#Oh and. Stealing a coin from some guy on impulse because it was from his ancestor. He regretted it immediately (the episode itself is silly

[teethbomb]

hhhhhhnnngh

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! I read your Jesper fic and it’s like my favorite that I’ve ever read honestly it was amazing! I was wondering if I could request a Jesper x reader where the reader is small and really sweet and he has a crush on her? And she like steals his clothes and he just gets rlly soft? Once again I love your writing have a great day/night and no rush!

hi there! we’ve talked over pm, but thank you again, those kind words mean the WORLD to me! i haven’t put my writing out there in a while, so this means a lot, thank you again :)

so i had a weird idea when i saw this when i woke up this morning. mind you, it’s been sitting in my requests for a few days, but i saw it and didn’t have a lot of ideas, but then inspiration struck me and brb i gotta cry over this. AHHHHHH

pairings! jesper x reader / kaz x inej ( being soulmates ) + nina x matthias ( also being soulmates ) + wylan van eck enjoying his pie

reader is again, gender neutral, but leans more female presented, BUT the pronouns they/their are used throughout

warnings! jesper and reader being the fluffest couple to walk the grishaverse, kaz endlessly shipping, kaz also pinning for inej, nina + kaz shipping reader and jesper, the crows in general shipping reader x jesper

word count; 3036 words

one-shot under cut!

this mood board was made by a friend and UGH IT TAKES IN THE FIC S O WELL!!! @r3tr0sp3ct !! thank you so much, SHFJD

5 WAYS TO TELL YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER YOU LOVE THEM

Courtesy Of Jesper Fahey, to my Dearest Y/N

5: Tease Them About How Short They Are

It was no secret that Y/N was the shortest of the crows. A mere five foot three, compared to the other Crows? They were short. Shorter than Inej by an inch or two, and by a foot compared to Matthias. Yet, it made them dangerous: able to move from place to place almost as swiftly as Inej. They were able to look unintimidating, when in reality, they could kill you, your family, and your relatives. They were able to lie their way through almost anything: another factor of people underestimating them. They were dangerous, which is why they were a part of the Crows after all. An asset, a leader even. Kaz saw them as valuable.

That didn’t stop the endless amount of teasing from the Crows though. And who had started it? Jesper Fahey.

First joining the Crows had been an impulsive decision, but one that Y/N didn’t regret. A family came with joining, and they’d lost theirs a pretty good time ago. What also came with joining was the teasing. Another day at the Crow Club, and Y/N, still relatively new to the Barrel life, was watching as Jesper gambled. They’d never understand the payoff of such quizzical acts of dumbness, but they stood there behind Jesper, confused.

Finishing the hand, Jesper glanced back at Y/N, chuckling slightly. Y/N’s eyes shifted, their glare at Jesper meeting him right in the eyes. It almost caused him to back down from what he was about to say, but he simply smirked the usual Jesper smirk. Flirtatious and bubbly. His hand swiftly moved, pulling Y/N to stand directly in front of him, the hand on their waist causing them to become flustered.

“You’re shorter than Inej,” Jesper inquired.

“I am not-” but Y/N didn’t finish their sentence. They’d already known such, but now Jesper was pointing it out. “So what?”

“It means I get to deem a new nickname for you! Inej would never let me call her anything related to her height, she threatened me with her knives. Or Kaz would glare at me, which scares me to say the least,” Jesper smiled now. He was going to have to find his way into Y/N’s good graces to fully engage in said nickname. They seemed conflicted for a moment, a pout making its way to their face.

“Does that mean I get to deem a nickname for you based on how tall you are?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow. They already had one in mind, considering Jesper was only a mere inch shorter than Matthias, the nickname still fit him.

“Well, that depends, Shortcake, what is your nickname for me?”

“Big Bear,” Y/N responded, smiling.

“Hmm, I like it. Shortcake and Big Bear. A powerful duo,” Jesper said, chuckling.

And thus, the teasing of how short Y/N was began.

4; Tell Them How Sweet They Are

The teasing didn’t stop there. Of course it didn’t. Because while the nickname ‘Shortcake’ was coined by Jesper, everyone had chosen new nicknames for how short Y/N was. Matthias called them Bubbles. Nina called them Babycakes. Wylan called them Munchkin. Inej called them Mini-me. And even Kaz had found a nickname for them; Firecracker.

But for Jesper, he wanted to find other ways to tease, or to tell Y/N what they meant to him, and low and behold, chance struck him. Eating with the Crows at one of the bakeries in Ketterdam, Y/N sitting next to Nina, with Jesper on their other side. Matthias sat next to Nina, squished between her and Inej. Wylan sat on the edge of the booth, opposite of Jesper, with Kaz sitting in a chair at the head of the booth.

Jesper glanced over at Y/N every once in a while, who was enjoying their creampuffs, he watched a bit of the filling be left on their lips. letting out a small chuckle, he watched Y/N turn toward him. “Hm?” They murmured, tilting their head. Sometimes Jesper wondered what someone like Y/N was doing in the Barrel. How Kaz had even found someone so sweet and kind roaming the streets.

“You got something a little-” Jesper raised his hand, his thumb brushing the pastry filling from Y/N’s lips. “There,” and with that, he chuckled before eating the filling. Y/N’s eyes had followed his hand the entire way, becoming flustered just as they had in the Crow Club just a few nights ago.

“That was my leftovers for later, Big Bear,” Y/N glared, their tone though was playful. The entire table now stared at them. Nina had a knowing look on their face, Matthias just seemed confused. Inej had let out a small laugh, Kaz’s eyes shifting to Inej upon hearing the sound. And Wylan? He just took another bite of his pie, his attention unwavered.

“Shortcake, you’re really telling me you would’ve saved any amount of those creampuffs as leftovers? I doubt it, they’re your favorite,” Jesper observed, making Y/N huff and taking another bite of a creampuff.

“They’re sweet and warm, of course I wouldn’t leave a single one for leftovers,” Y/N deemed, crossing their arms as they went to grab their last creampuff, but Jesper beat them to it, biting into it.

“Hmm, they’re not as sweet as you,” Jesper said, kissing Y/N’s nose, making them go cross-eyed with a smile.

“Hey! That was MY last creampuff!” Y/N said, coming to their senses after they realized Jesper had taken their last one. Before they could go to grab it though, Jesper raised it above his head. Oh, it was on. Before too long, Y/N was chasing Jesper out of the bakery, leaving the other Crows a laughing mess as they watched Jesper run, yelling for Y/N to catch him.

“Those two are soulmates,” Nina said, a wide smile on her lips as she watched Y/N practically topple Jesper onto the concrete, grabbing what was left of their creampuff and biting into it. Her eyes then shifted to Matthias.

“Soulmates.” Matthias agreed, smiling.

3; Save Them From The Bad Guy

Y/N was smart, Jesper knew that. They could probably give Jesper and Kaz a run for their money if they would like to. They were small, agile, talented. They were everything in Jesper’s eyes and more. But that didn’t make them any less susceptible to being overwhelmed during a job. They weren’t Nina Zenik. They weren’t Grisha, meaning if the right spots were hit they could indeed be overtaken.

But with Jesper by their side, that potential went down exponentially. Because whether Y/N believed it or not, and they did, Jesper would protect them with his life. They would do so for one another without hesitation. Which as Kaz put it: ‘is a dangerous prospect.’ The two didn’t care though. Well, in certain ways they did, but where was the fun in giving Kaz the satisfaction of thinking he was somewhat right? Answer: There was none.

Having just grabbed the package they needed during the job, Y/N and Jesper were about to be home free when they were spotted by the cashier, who undoubtedly worked for Pekka Rollins. Going eye wide, the two stared at the cashier for some time, and before they could come up with a Kaz level idea, the two bolted from the shop, Y/N’s hand in Jesper’s.

“We’re not dying today, Shortcake!” Jesper laughed over the commotion, the adrenaline of the job running through him as they ran.

“Hopefully not, Big Bear!” Y/N yelled, letting go of Jesper’s hand and breaking off from him. They were bigger targets together. Slipping through the crowds, Y/N ran as quickly as their legs could carry them. But speed could only make up so much when men who seemed twice your size were chasing after you.

Y/N knew Ketterdam well, but not Inej well. Not Kaz well. So when they came face to face with a wall that was too big for them to climb before the men managed to catch up, they scowled. Where the hell is Inej when you need her?

Turning to face the men who showed up, Y/N showed their hands. “Went after the wrong one,” They remarked, smirking. The men didn’t seem to be having it though, and as they stalked towards Y/N, a voice was heard behind them.

“And to think you’re usually the one saving my ass!” And then the three men fell, one bullet lodged in each of the men’s heads. Y/N looked up, smiling as they saw Jesper.

“Got the package?” Y/N asked, Jesper showcasing the bag of whatever it was Kaz had deemed they needed.

“I do, but I also have the most important package.” Jesper stepped over the bodies and took Y/N’s hand again, a wide smile on his lips.

“And what package would that be?” Y/N knew what he was going to say, but they wanted to hear it outloud

“Why you, of course!” Jesper winked, kissing Y/N’s forehead before they were off to bring the package to Kaz.

2; Let Them Borrow Your Clothes

Another night at the Crow Club, but something was unusual. Jesper was used to having a stalking Y/N behind him wondering how poker worked. This time though, they didn’t seem to be found anywhere in the Crow Club. It almost made Jesper not want to play. What was the point of playing if you didn’t have your lucky charm? There was no reason in his mind, especially as he began to have a bad streak of luck. So, standing from the table, he went to the booth Inej sat at, Kaz across from her.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Jesper asked, earning him a small smirk from Kaz, who simply glanced at Inej. He’d seen the newest Crow go to Jesper’s room while he’d gone down the steps. Kaz had been tempted to ask what they were doing, but he already had a feeling about what they were doing.

“They’re at the Slat,” Kaz said, deciding to rat out Y/N.

Jesper raised a brow. Weird. “Have fun you two! Inej, make sure he doesn’t come up with some more heist plans while I’m gone,” he joked, earning an eye roll from Inej. Turning from the table, he made his way out of the Crow Club, walking to the Slat and up to Y/N’s room, which was right next to his. Granted, they were really just tiny spaces meant to serve for the necessities. So, when Jesper arrived at their floor, he stopped in his tracks.

“Shortcake?”

Y/N turned, cursing as they realized they’d been caught. Instead of being adorned in their usual black attire, Y/N wore one of Jesper’s jackets.

“Listen, it was right there, it looked warm, I just really really . . . why are you walking towards me like that?” Y/N asked, watching as Jesper stepped towards them. If only they could see into Jesper’s mind, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was completely, utterly in love with the person before him. Letting out a gentle laugh, he kissed the corner of Y/N’s lips, earning him wide eyes.

“It looks better on you, although a little big, it’s perfect, Shortcake” Jesper said, in turn, he received a giddy laugh.

“Why thank you Big Bear. It is really warm, I may have to steal it,” Y/N remarked, crossing their arms and posing in the jacket for Jesper.

“You can’t steal it if I give it to you.”

“Hey! No fair. We’re criminals. I shall steal Jesper Fahey’s coat!”

“Mhm, now come on. I think you should show off your new attire at the Crow Club,” Jesper said, taking Y/N’s hand, but instead, they moved to stand beside Jesper, moving his arm so it wrapped around their waist.

When they arrived at the Crow Club once more, Inej glanced at Kaz, who now looked over his plans he’d been drawing out, his eyes on Y/N and Jesper.

“You’re so in on them being soulmates aren’t you?” Inej asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dearest Inej,” Kaz spoke quietly, making sure only she could hear.

1; Telling Them You Love Them

Whatever Jesper was planning, Y/N had a feeling it involved something big. They’d never seen him as frantic as he currently was. Then again, Jesper was a pretty frantic person at times, but still this probably took the cake for the most frantic. He had flowers, candies, creampuffs, not that Y/N knew all of that.

He was receiving different ways to tell people that you love them, and now he had no idea which one to go with. Nina told him pastries. Inej told him to simply be outright with it. Matthias told him some weird Fjerdan way they would do it. Wylan had shrugged, he’d never really been in love before. He hadn’t even DARED to ask Kaz for obvious reasons.

That left him with his own way of doing it. He wasn’t sure if Y/N would like it. He knew she’d like the cream puffs. But the candies? The flowers? Were they that kind of romantic?

It also didn’t help that when he’d asked everyone, he’d at first told them that he had feelings for Y/N, and they’d all replied that they knew. That didn’t help his nerves, because did that mean Y/N knew? Or were they just as oblivious as he was?

The night seemed simple enough - until it wasn’t.

The flowers didn’t smell right to Jesper, so he threw them out. The candies, as Nina revealed, were Y/N’s least favorite. The only thing he still had by the beginning of the night were the creampuffs. But he wanted to do this right. He had to do this right.

Entering the bakery, Jesper spotted Y/N at one of the booths, eating creampuffs. Well, there goes the last thing he had to give them. Making his way to the table, Jesper watched as Y/N raised their head to look at him.

“Don’t tell me Kaz sent you to come and ruin my night with some heist plans, Big Bear,” Y/N said, biting into their cream puff, humming in delight.

“Nope, just me. . . . just me,” Jesper murmured the last bit.

“Just you huh?” Y/N asked, finishing their plate and throwing it out. They stood, thanking the baker before leaving the bakery. Jesper followed behind. His mind raced with ideas on how to do this right. Maybe this was the right way? Stopping in one of the alleys, Jesper sucked in a deep breath.

“I love you!” He called to Y/N, who stalled for a moment, eyes going wide just as they did when Jesper had kissed the corner of their mouth.

“You make me rethink everything I know. You waltzed into the Crows lives, but most importantly, you waltzed into mine. I love you,” Jesper watched Y/N, seeing them laugh a bit.

“Go on, Big Bear,” Y/N spoke, walking slowly towards the gushing Jesper.

“I love the way you let me joke about your height. I love the way you get creampuff filling all over your face, you actually still have some on your lips. I love the way you joke with me during jobs, even when they go terribly wrong,” Jesper chuckled now, his smile wide.

“I love when you wear my clothes. They’re big on you. My jackets almost reach the floor. My sweaters reach your thighs. I love when you stand behind me while I’m playing cards, wondering how the game works. Or why it’s helpful. I love when you sneak into my bed late at night and lie across from me even with the small space we have, acting as if I don’t know you’re there. I love the way you chase me for your last cream puff and tackle me into the ground. But most of all, I love you . . . you, gosh do i love you,” Jesper felt out of breath. He wanted to yell from the top of rooftops that he loved Y/N. The things he’d do for them were endless.

“You know what I love about you, Jesper Fahey?” Y/N asked, tilting their head as they stopped in front of the breathless boy.

“What?”

“Everything,” and then they were on their tippy toes, their lips barely meeting Jesper’s.

The taste of cream puff filling hit Jesper first, a familiarity he knew with Y/N. Home. His fingers delicately moved to hold the back of their neck, his eyes shutting as he fully leaned down to kiss them. The pounding in his chest could likely be heard throughout the entirety of Ketterdam. He could feel the concrete underneath him, and it felt like the only stabilizer he had to keep him grounded. For if not for the concrete beneath him, he would’ve thought he was dreaming. Floating, even. But the feeling of their skin under his fingers, their lips. Everything invaded his senses and he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want them to stop.

Y/N had dreamed of this moment. The way Jesper’s slightly chapped lips would feel against their own, how soft his skin would feel, how his hair would feel. How he’d feel. Time felt lost, the world around them dimming as they let themself be consumed by this feeling. Nothing had felt so right. No one else existed except them.

Becoming breathless, Jesper pulled from Y/N, his eyes fluttering open as he placed his forehead against theirs. Then he felt the soft feeling of rain beginning to fall. “Isn’t that cheesy,” he chuckled, making Y/N laugh and take his hand.

“Ready to run through the rain, Big Bear?” They whispered.

Jesper didn’t answer, and instead he turned, pulling Y/N with him towards the Slat, their laughs being heard for miles.

[sirius-archive]

Dare or Dare (Prompt)

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, mentioned Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2256

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, mentions of sex i guess?

Request: Could you do 13 and 15 of random with James or Sirius maybe? :) - Anonymous

Prompt: 13. “YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” 15. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.” 

A/N: First prompt finally finished!! please send in more! the list is pinned to my blog. Enjoy <3

***

It may have been cliche, but it was a common tradition for you and your friends to steal food from the kitchens, get drunk and play stupid muggle games late at night in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire crackled and popped, emitting shards of amber light that jarred with the dark shadows, creating a golden-warm atmosphere that encompassed you and your friends. You sat crossed-legged on the ground between Mary and Marlene Marlene while the boys - James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - sat opposite you, forming a circle that sort of resembled a seance. Littered in the centre of your ‘Friendship Circle’ (coined affectionately by James) was your plunder; a variety of puddings and treats and left-over sweets from a recent Hogsmeade trip.

Soon enough, two bottles of firewhiskey were brandished and passed around the group, and everyone was taking long sips from the bottle - everyone except for you.

“Boo,” Sirius jeered, “You’re boring.”

“Well excuse me if I don’t want liver failure,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “Besides, six people sharing from the same bottle? That’s unsanitary.”

“What? You worried you’ll catch boy cooties,” Sirius teased, “Because last time I checked, you didn’t mind boy cooties when I saw you making out with Prongs in the broom closet last week. And trust me, none of that was exactly ‘sanitary’.”

You felt your face glow with embarrassment as laughter bubbled over the group. You glanced at James, at the little curl of his lips that wasn’t quite as mischievous as a smirk, but not as open and carefree as a smile. It was somewhere in between...like he wasn’t embarrassed of kissing you, of even being lumped in the same sentence as you. It made your heart swell, your cheeks no longer warm from embarrassment.

“Why don’t we stop harassing (Y/N) and Potter and get on with some games!” Marlene urged, gracefully saving you from Sirius.

“Yes!” Peter agreed, “I managed to find a load of fun muggle games in this book!”

He pulled out a book from his bag and brandished it before you friends.

“101 Party Games to Play at your Bachelorette Party,” Remus read aloud, frowning, “Some how, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I do!” Mary said eagerly, leaning forward to get a good look at the book.

“Whats a Bachelorette Party?” asked Marlene, brows knitted in confusion.

“It’s a party where a bride and her bridal party celebrate her last night as a ‘single’ woman,” Mary explained excitedly, “My mums been to loads. She always comes back with weird penis shaped memorabilia.”

“Well, what’s the hold up, Wormtail?” James asked, grinning broadly, “Let’s crack it open!”

Peter dropped the book in the middle of the circle and sat back as Sirius opened the first page. A devilish grin spread slowly across his face as he read the index.

“This is brilliant!” Sirius laughed, flicking the page, “’Stick it in the Hole’ a game inspired by all those sex ed classes you pretended to listen to in High School. Two people are required, much like the real thing.”

“Muggles are insane…” Marlene decided.

“Dunk the Weenie in the Creampie,” Sirius continued, “The only time when it is encouraged to be bad at cooking. Simply tie a sausage to your waist with a short rope and try to dunk the sausage in the centre of a cream pie. Beware, this game is messy.”

“Yeah, I’m not playing that,” said Remus, disapprovingly, “I’m not sure what’s worse; having to embarrass myself by grinding on a cream pie in front of my friends or watching you lot do it.”

“Agreed,” said Peter, who was blushing furiously.

“What about this?” Sirius perked up, reading intently, “Bridal Truth or Dare. A sexy twist on a classic game. Players must reveal deep truths or suffer through scandalous dares. The more debauchery, the better!’”

“I’m down for a game of truth or dare,” Mary piped up excitedly.

“Same!” Marlene chimed.

“Me too!” said Peter.

“I have no shame and I don’t believe in regrets so I’ll play,” said James, winking at you.

“Oh what the hell,” Remus shrugged, sighing, “So long as the fire whiskey’s still flowing.”

“What do you take us for, amateurs?” Sirius gasped, his tone oozing with mock-offence.

Everyone turned to look at you. An unpleasant burning sensation prickled beneath your cheeks.

“Alright,” you sighed, grabbing a sugar quill, “I’ll play.”

Marlene and Mary giggled excitedly as Sirius dropped the book in his lap and skimmed the first page.

“Right,” he said, importantly, “If someone asks for truth, they have to answer or risk being forced to do a dare from the list of Extreme Dares.”

“I like the sound of that,” said James, craning to peer at the list.

“I don’t,” you muttered, glancing at Remus.

You knew beyond a doubt that you’d be asked about you and James�� complicated history by one of your friends and, if you refused to answer, would probably have to do something embarrassing with him like let him fondle your breasts or something stupid like that.

“Alright, so the eldest starts,” said Sirius and he grinned, “Which is me so suck it losers.”

Everyone groaned. Having Sirius start a game of Bridal Truth or Dare was going to be excruciating to say the least.

Sirius feigned a deep look of hurt, clutching his chest in pain, “I had no idea you guys thought so highly of me!”

“Hurry up, Padfoot,” Remus grumbled, taking a swing of fire whiskey, “Lets just rip it off like a band aid.”

Sirius’ lips spread into a wicked, calculating smirk. You knew that look all too well; it was the look of someone who was either barking mad or insanely clever forming a devious master plan.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he pretended to think for one attractive moment before narrowing his eyes on you.

“(Y/N), Bridal Truth or Dare? Quickly now, or we’ll all sober up and lose our nerve.”

You thought that was quite impossible for two reasons: one, everyone except you had had enough fire whiskey to drown their veins in alcohol and, two, Gryffindors never lost their nerve.

You sighed long sufferingly, “Alright, truth.”

“Bridal truth,” Sirius corrected and then furrowed his brows in thought. His eyes sparked again with a look of wild excitement, “Have you and Prongs ever reached third base?”

Marlene and Mary stifled their giggles. James shot you an apologetic look, grimacing at Sirius.

Something about the challenging look in Sirius’ eye rankled you, grating obnoxiously on your competitive streak. Usually, you were more rational, more ‘pick-your-battles-carefully’, but now, Sirius was closing in on your relationship-not-relationship with James, something you considered deeply personal. If Sirius wanted to play this game, then he’d better be prepared to lose.

“Padfoot,” James began, glancing at you, “I think that’s-“

“No,” you answered, defiantly, “James and I have not reached third base, and that’s only because we kept getting interrupted by you.”

There was a stunned sort of silence at the tone of your voice. Everyone was used to you denying your relationship-not-relationship with James, so your candor was like a splash of cold water in the middle of winter.

You broke the silence by snatching the bottle from Sirius’ grasp, “I’m too sober for this shit.”

“You don’t even drink,” said Marlene in shock.

You uncorked the bottle, “Maybe I should start.”

Tipping your head back, you took a long drag of the fire whiskey and winced as it seared the back of your throat. A moment later, a tickling warmth kindled in your stomach, and what felt like gold shot through your veins, filling you up.

Everyone was staring at you, shocked and speechless. You - Gryffindor prefect, one of the top performing students in the school, rule abider and teachers pet - were breaking a dozen school rules by drinking fire whiskey and admitting quite blatantly that you and James would have had sex if it weren’t for Sirius.

Their shocked expressions made you smirk.

“Are you lot going to keep staring at me or are we going to play?”

***

An hour into the game, and your brain was swimming in pools of intoxicated bliss. It was like peering through rose-tinted glasses - everything was hilariously funny, and your courage and impulsivity had been dialled up by about a hundred while your common sense had abandoned you.

Everyone had participated in an array of embarrassing truths and even more embarrassing dares. Peter had asked you what it was like to kiss Sirius (you and Sirius had a few…flings…in the past, before you had realised your feelings for James).

“Be honest now,” Sirius winked at you, “You don’t have to lie because ol’ Padfoot is here.”

James looked slightly amused, but there was a glint of something dark, something wild in the mosaic of his eyes.

You took your time, formulating a response.

“Eh, he’s alright” you shrugged, nonchalantly, “I’ve had better. A little overrated, if you ask me.”

That had been a mistake. Without warning, Sirius had launched into a wild tickle attack, scrambling toward you and poking his fingers between your ribs. Laughter erupted from your lips as you keeled backward, lying flat on your back as Sirius clambered on top of you.

“YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP TICKLING ME!” you shrieked, laughing hysterically, “SIRIUS! GEROFF”

James was the first to pull Sirius off you, smacking him around the head.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, but he smiled at James’ playful expression.

The hours ebbed away.

Soon, everyone was getting bored with Bridal truth or dare and instead decided to play Dare or Dare. You, Marlene and Mary had been dared to race each other stripping your bras off without taking your tops off. While you had done it a million times before, it had been significantly more difficult to do while drunk.

Remus had been dared to sneak into Filch’s office and leave him a love note and James and Sirius had been dared to kiss - which they did, passionately and unabashed.

“Alright,” James had smirked as he stared at you, “(Y/N). Dare or Dare?”

You pretended to consider your options, “Hmm…Dare!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” James grinned, dodgy and lopsided, “Alright, I dare you to sprint past Dumbledore’s office, topless.”

You grinned, climbing to your feet, “I’ll do you one better.”

Slowly, while maintaining eye contact with James, you stripped into your underwear. James’ expression cycled rapidly between awe and arousal, and you couldn’t help noticing the way he squirmed, trying to casually cover his lap with a pillow.

Marlene let out a low whistle, startling you. You had forgotten about the others.

Grabbing your cloak, your friends all made your way to Dumbledore’s office, dodging out of Filch’s sight and weaving around Peeves, who was throwing furniture around in Filch’s office.

It was only after you watched Nearly Headless Nick sweep past Dumbledores office when you unclasped your robe and let it pool around your feet. Moonlight soaking into your skin, you stepped into the empty corridor and took a deep breath. The air was cool, prickling your skin with goosebumps. Your cheeks, however, felt hot and flushed from the alcohol and adrenaline.

“Go!” urged Sirius and, without hesitating, you ran.

Arms flailing in the air, you sprinted past Dumbledore’s office while your friends giggled madly. Once you reached the corridor, you turned around and raced back but came to a sudden halt when a figure stepped around the corner.

Severus Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, a look of shock and embarrassment creeping into his thin, pallid face.

You immediately took a step back. Severus had become your friend after meeting him in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. You’d stopped associating with him after he had started associating with Death Eaters and you had noticed a definite change in his attitude toward muggleborns.

“(Y/N),” he said, softly, as he drank in the view of you, your skin glowing in the moonlight, “W-What-?”

James and Sirius stepped forward protectively and Remus draped your cloak around your shoulders, forcing you behind him.

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James spat, “Looking for another kitten to drown for Lord Stinkamort, are you?”

Severus’ expression contorted into a look of fury. He grabbed for his wand when you stepped forward, lacing your fingers with James’.

��He’s not worth it,” you whispered, and with another urgent tug, you pulled James away, Sirius following.

Perhaps because you were there, neither James nor Severus attacked one another as you retreated to the Gryffindor common room. James was grasping your hand tightly, still enraged by Severus’ presence, but that changed when you pulled him around a corner and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?” James asked in surprise.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” you asked, playfully, “Oh, alright then…” you started to saunter off but James pulled you back into his arms and crashed his lips onto yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and the words from your tongue.

Panting as he pulled away, James looked around and spotted something to your left. You followed his gaze, where it landed on the Prefect Bathrooms.

“Fancy a dip?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Definitely,” you smirked, tugging on his belt, “And this time, we won’t be interrupted.”

***

@siriusmuch  @beyoncesdragon​ @moon-zodiac @mflufflion​

[glasyasbutch]

Oh, do you want some angst this week? is that what you want? alright bud let's go!! 1, 3, 7, and 28 for whoever has the Most Interesting Answers!!

Thank you for sending this in!!! Under a read more both bc Prose Boy but also because the first question ended up becoming a short story with some themes of body horror in it so! look out!

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

I rolled amongst the characters I haven’t already discussed in depth later in this ask and got Roona. Lovely.

Being a person with near zero impulse control and a penchant for doing it just because someone said not to, I think at some point while barding alone on the road, she ended up in one of those small towns with a big secret that pop up in the thousands in D&D. 

One of those places where there’s a house on the outskirts of town with the windows all locked up and the front gate rusted shut, but it’s not dilapidated, and if you listen close enough there’s still voices drifting out through the cracks. And if you ask about it in the tavern, the room falls silent and no one’s gaze is meeting yours and after a tense few seconds the bartender slides you a too-full glass and tells you “You best be forgetting about that place, it won’t do you any good.”

And you want to know so badly what happened there and every answer you get is vague until the coin purse comes out, and then the hushed whispers come out too and you start to hear things about how the family that used to live there would collect all kinds of artifacts, and one day they imported something horribly cursed, and it’s probably still inside, it’s got to be, because no one’s ever been seen leaving with it, and anyone who goes to get it back walks away with blood-drained face and shut mouth. 

And so you try to sleep at night but you can’t, because you’re thinking about this fucked up house, and you’ve been to enough roadside tourist traps to know that the value’s in the show, and terror and wonder are almost the same emotion, and you’re pretty sure that this is just some long con publicity stunt that some recluse rich ass family is pulling, because rich people are fucking weird like that. And you’re not gonna call them on it, but you’d like to see for yourself, just to know if your hunch is right. 

So you sneak over there in the dark of night, and you hop the fence and press your eye to the shutters of the living room, and you curse your short legs that you don’t have the best of angles, but you’re still able to make out movement inside the place, and you can see the figures milling about in profile, but it’s hard to make out since the lights are off, which granted, is a little bit weird. 

But you squirm and shimmy and hoist yourself up by the window ledge and you’re still looking through the slats the whole time and you’re trying to see, you can almost get the right angle of your head and the moonlight to make out something of worth in the room, you just need to get a little bit higher and -

And you kick the side of the house and it reverberates much more than it has any right to, though that could just be the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but it really feels like the whole house has shaken, and the figures in the room all freeze in place, which is a bit worrying, but you don’t see them looking at you, which is almost a relief. 

But they are looking at you. The longer you sit and wait for them to go back to their business, the more you realize they’re waiting for you to leave. They can tell you’re here and you’re not supposed to be, so everything comes crashing to a halt, and they’re looking at you, so you know that you’re the disruption. 

But you didn’t realize until now that’s what they were doing, because they don’t have faces. It’s smooth skin, no sign even of eye sockets or cheek bones or nose bridges, just blank skin, like a mannequin come to life, but even with nothing there you can still feel them staring and you want to run away as fast as you can but you’re too scared too move. 

You become scared enough to move again once one of them begins to move towards the window that you’re at, and you hop the fence once more and high tail it back to the inn, hand on the hilt of your sword the whole while. And you slip back into your bed and wish you’d heeded the warnings to stay away, because even though you checked over your shoulder a thousand times to make sure they didn’t follow you, it still feels like the lack of eyes is staring right at you from the dark of every corner in your room. 

And you don’t sleep well again until you’re miles away from that town. 

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as before they lost them? 

These are d&d characters and I’m a tragedy slut so long answer short, yes, approximately half of my characters have key backstory moments revolving around the death/betrayal of a loved one.  Craving, Tov, Stella, Ezra are Supremely Emo, with Gildy and Nissy being lesser versions but still fitting the prompt.

Craving: Her entire life has been a series of deep losses that fundamentally changed the way she grew up. First person she lost was her mother, Kaissa, who died of a mysteriously incurable illness and whose public autopsy was revoked by the city for reasons no one could figure out. It broke her trust in authority, in public figures. The medical sector had refused to treat her mother and then hidden the evidence, it was as good as murder, and she figured every seat of government had as much blood on their hands.

The second to go was her father, Anvan, one of the first victims of a plague that devasted the tiefling population of their city far worse than any other race. He died before a vaccine was developed, but it wouldn’t have mattered any ways, because it was distributed in a horribly biased fashion by the producers which benefitted the human populous first. Not only did this break her trust in money, as a tool for growth and prosperity and caused her to see wealth as possessions as a tool for cruelty (which, you might ask, doesn’t she want wealth? doesn’t she steal impulsively? yes. she does it to be cruel right back at the world.) BUT it also was the moment at which she really lost her youth, because with the death of her father, she had to go into working full time.

The last to go was her brother, Sirris. He was stabbed and burned to death in a hate crime attack on their store. She went into the back room that day as a broken but loving woman, and crawled out of the ashes dragging her brother’s body behind her as a hell-bent, rage-blind servant of eye for an eye retribution. She was going to tear this world down from the inside, and she is still barely starting to learn that there are some things that don’t deserve to be crushed in the wreckage. 

Tov: He went to the Shadowfell to get some sorcery powers and when he walked back out he did a little attempted murder on his brother, who funnily enough Did Not Like It, and cast Tov out of his clan and his life, out of everything he’d ever known. Tov stood on the shores as his brother boarded the boat home alone and the second the ship was out of sight, he became a shell of a man that he’s still trying to fill back in.

Stella: Her entire community got burned to the ground and only a handful of survivors made it out, and she had to go from balance-oriented hippie kid to Literal Fucking Assassin to survive so uh. She got lost in a world where she had to become mean and cold and emotionless in order to stay living, and if she’s being honest, made it a lot easier to deal with the fact that Literally her Entire Life was irreparably gone. 

Ezra: His sister died on a quest for his God, after being promised saving by his God, and failing to be resurrected by clerics of his God. It made him stop believing in God. Like that one’s super duper straightforward.

Gildy: Not nearly as emo, but her spouse passing of old age and leaving her alone in the house made her finally realize that her life is. Hers. And that’s it. And kicked off her quest to do things that actually interest her and get into 3D art and forging and eventually a lifestyle of travel and adventure in the name of her art. She focused on herself for the first time in her life and maybe its just it being 1 am but I am a little bit soft about how that deep deep loss of a spouse was a catalyst for one of the most unabashedly happy times in this woman’s life because she finally didn’t have to care about pleasing anyone but herself! Nissy: He eloped with his girlfriend and then got dumped by her and he realized he kind of sucked shit on his own and decided to go adventuring to prove himself about it. At the time I played him he was fresh out of the breakup so he hadn’t changed much, but I feel like by the time he gets back home he will actually be much more sure of himself as a person who has value and worth and deserves a place at the table as he is, because that’s what being with Mavy had started to teach him, and after she left he was able to internalize it better bc there was no external source to pass it off onto. 

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? 

Stella would kill Geran, the man who caught her assassinating and promised her a clean wipe of her criminal record in return for a year of SUPREMELY sketch and manipulative personal guard work. She knows she can’t do anything to him because if she fails he turns her in himself, and if she succeeds one of his lackeys does, but he’s also an absolute creep and a sleazeball and she hates his guts and the world would be better off without his freakness in it. Hey actually Rebekah this guy would make a great fourth character for Ludo. 

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?  Is it not the essence of a queer person’s D&D game that every character’s greatest strength boils down to a unfathomably deep love and devotion to whatever persons or tasks they deem worthy?

[bestnoncannonship]

Alright..I'mma get in on this VC fancasting debate.

As a director, I often have a LOT of opinions on people's casting decisions. A LOT. (Someday, I'll write a novella on Ken Brannaugh's casting.) So as I see a LOT of fancasts casts based on how people look and few based on whether or not the actor can likely handle the role, I'mma throw my hat in the ring. (Warning....the more I write the less technical and more shitposty this is gonna get!) So here you go! The Vampire Chronicles series if I got to cast and direct it!!

The Brat Prince:

Most importantly....we gotta get us a Lestat. And the choice is clear:

Evan Williams: this fabulous shitposting aesthetic trash is as close to the one and only Vampire Lestat as we are gonna get on this plane of existance. He is all charm and quite light in his loafers and a complete mess.......but most importantly, he has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is able to play a character that does inexplicable and morally reprehensible things while still being read as highly sympathetic, likable, and even a hero. That's what I worry about most with Lestat. He really is a very terrible person who doesn't learn or face too many consequences. And he has to be very very very sympathetic. Not just "Oh I Stan that villain" likeable.....but a true hero. And it takes a very. Special. Actor. To pull that shit off. And this is it. This is the guy. He was hired to play an Iago-esque gay villain type in Versailles, STOLE THE SHOW OUT FROM UNDER GEORGE BLAGDEN (no mean feat as Blaggy was giving a hell of a performance) and made his character a beloved icon. Yeah....I trust him to lead a show. I trust him to be Lestat.

Nicholas L'enfant:

Okay not gonna lie I struggled with this one. There was someone else I wanted to see in this role....but I decided he was better employed elsewhere. And this is who I ended up with:

Yep. George Blagden. See...in the grand scheme of things Nikki is a very low-screentime role that has a LOT of impact on the story. And who better to trust with low screentime that the god of grantaires, who took a few small shots and lines and GAVE US A FULLY CHARACTERIZED GRANTAIRE in the Les Mis film. He is very sweet faced, and easy to like, can make being an on screen depressive fascinating instead of dull and has proven time and time again that he is the master of the complete mental breakdown, complete with horrifying but tragic crazy eyes. Also.....he bears a strong enough physical resembles to.....

Louis!!!!:

Our beautiful depressed dark angel with a vampire eating disorder who has no self esteem and is still in love with his abuser needs nuance. He needs soul. And he needs a sweet and delicate beauty. And so:

Alexaner Vlahos!!! The soulful eyes!! The delicate bone structure!!! The slight tones of simmering resentment!!! The ability to play a character that could have become VERY one note VERY quickly with goregeous amounts of nuance and sympathy!!! Vlavla has quite the varied resume. Mordred. Phillipe. Romeo. Captain Hook. To put it lightly he has a LOT of range and the one through line is he is NEVER boring. He plays a lot of roles that could very quickly become boring and one note (Romeo? Captian snooze right there!). But every second he's on screen or stage he is so completely alive in whatever he is feeling. I TRUST him to keep the entirety of Louis's brooding nuanced and fascinating for an audience and to physically and facially convey Louis's very important internal monologue that we will not be able to hear because this version is going to be from Lestat's point of veiw. I toggled with the idea of making him Nikki for a while....but ended up with Louis for 2 reasons. 1) he doesn't need the scripted plot drama Nikki has written in to make a compelling character and 2) he and Williams share such beautiful chemistry. Whenever they're together, even off screen, their focus shifts so that they orbit each other like bianary stars and any director can see that that's something that should be explored and exploited to add demension to the Louis/Lestat relationship and justify why they keep coming back to each other.

(And so ends the Men of Versailles segment of my fancast. So sue me. There's some incredible actors there.)

Let's return with

Gabrielle De Lioncourt:

The incomparable Alex Kingston, lately of River Song fame, though I met her as Elizabeth Corday, and Doctor Corday is driving this casting choice. I wanted an actor who was an appropriate age to play Williams's mother cause we don't fuck with that women are "old" at 30 shit in this house. And she can carry off the kind of "I will not hesitate to kill a man" BDE that Gabrielle requires without trying, but she's also proven herself comfortable and competent with the level of CAMP that VC requires. I can see her easily showing up on set for a few scattered episodes, slipping easily into the verse, and nailing the kind of woman who can put Lestat in his place then run back off to the jungle. Also....that De Lioncourt hair!!!!!

Marius "Daddy" Romanus:

Yep. This fuck. I can hear it now.... "Why isn't he lessssaaaat??? He's so blonde and prettttyyyyy????" Well....mainly because....I ain't sure this lil fuck can run a show as a very despicable but likeable hero yet. He's admirable. A good actor. A great villain. But not a hero and not heroically likeable. Personally, I'm of the opinion that in 10 or 15 years he will have grown into the ability to play something as complex as Lestat with likability....but for now.....DAMN is he a creepy imperial thing. He's got that "My house, my rules" vibe down. He's preditory. He's distinguished. He is Marius. And he's go the best Roman coin profile I've ever seen.

Armand:

N/A

Ok. Controversial decision....but I want to see a complete unknown as Armand. Send casting out to cast a wide net, scour the world for the Botticelli death machine. But definitely don't pull him from the pool of already famous younguns. Because your Armand needs to be deep. Skilled. And primarily UNSPOILED by the school of child acting that is forced upon child actors. (I was a commercial kid and child stage actor. It was terrible.) Go out and get some twinky fresh faced raw talent so you get depth.

Claudia:

N/A

Big old ditto on what I said above about child actors. A nice doe eyed unknown, preferably without a stage mom.

AKASHA:

Yikes. So many amazing choices!!! How do you follow Aliyah??

With literal human perfection Gina Torres of course!!! Again....I wanted to go with an older woman. Someone who would be seen as an authority to all vampires. Someone god damnned goregeous. And someone who I find intimidating. Also, since I'm skewing a little tall with this cast (at least as TV actors go) I wanted someone who comfortably stands among and above most of them! She's a seasond tested actor, and certified badass. And we know she can steal a scene. Besides if she can look regal as a queen in that weirdass dress they gave her in the serenity movie she can pull off whatever monstrosity costumes comes up with to follow the Aliyah getup.

Khayman:

Don't @ me but....I have a LOT of feelings about Khayman. I love his particularly breed of immortal insanity. I love the way immortality drove him mad into a childlike enjoyment and curiosity. And I knew exactly who has to be casted to play that combination of intimidating ancient and innocent curiosity:

This is Howard Charles. He is capable of playing both an intimidating giant and a sweet soulful cinnamon roll at the same time. I cannot sing this man's praises enough. Am I scared of him? Do I want to hug him? Both? He's also one of the best scene SHARERS I've seen on screen in a long time and that's very important in a supporting role.

Maharet:

Just because Anne Rice doesn't know shit about Mesopotamia doesn't mean we have to follow her in that. I wanted to pull from Middle Eastern or Indian populations for her to best reflect the look of the region in a time that's roughly in line with the pre-dynastic Egyptian mish-mosh associated with Akasha.

So I'm gunning for Indira Varma. When I say this woman has timeless beauty.....I mean timeless. She's as prehistorically hot as she is today. And she's such a strong actress, I want to give her a role that isn't 50% sex scenes. She's got both the warmth and the commanding strength to play Maharet. I would ideally like to get a dancer to play Mekare....someone who can handle the physical interp of the role. Probably an Indian dancer to match Indira Varma.

David Talbot:

In the newly declared tradition of Doctors playing Talbot:

This is the only current Gif I could find of Sylvester McCoy. Known to many as the Seventh Doctor. And to many as Ratagast the Brown. He embodies that sort of huffy aging britishness that David projects, but has the over the top personality that can give us those hints of the vitality of David's youth. Basically I can see this man telling stories about hunting tigers in India. Then when he gets the hot young Raglan James Body:

Luke Pasqualino. Swarthy young troublemaker. But for all the youthful good looks, he proved that he was able to play grace and gravitas as D'artagnion in the final season of the BBC Musketeers. I'd love to give him a chance to explore that deeper part. I also trust his ability to match the energy of a cast, which he did repeatedly on musketeers, and portray both the impulsive self aggrandizing Lestat in the Raglan James body and to play the DarkAU Musketeer type that is Raglan James himself.

That's literally all the Gifs I can put in a post. I know I skipped Daniel......but that's because I have surprisingly few opinions on Daniel.......he's very much a vanilla audience connecting character. I'd almost like to see an unknown in that role....just to see what we a new face could make.

And thus ends my casting of the Vampire Chronicles!!

[cygnahime]

FFX Reliveblogging Part...4?

I'm grinding in the Omega Ruins in my other save, and mildly frustrated because Tidus has the highest strength in the party but......chocobo racing sucks, so he's capped at 9999 damage. Meanwhile Auron in yellow HP is doing 50k and hit 99,999 with a crit. Just the once, but it got me that trophy. I'm pretty sure Auronlu has already talked a lot about the Luca/Bevelle Crusaders/Warrior Monks conflict taking place in the background of the game. It first really comes up in Maechen's little discourse about the history of Lord Mi'ihen. Notable is that the Crusaders, originally founded as the Crimson Blades, were not originally part of the Yevonite power structure, but were subsumed presumably as an alternative to holy war. (Which is kind of hilarious, considering the our-world history of "Crusaders".) Ahhhh it's my favorite lesbians! And Clasko. I could say a lot of unkind things about the Battle Thongs, but the narrative at least never treats Lucil (and Elma) with less than total respect. Which I guess just shows how...gratuitous the clothing is. It's completely inconsistent with the characters. Bad design. Speaking of outfits, I looooove Belgemine's dress. It's so elegant! I'm pretty fond of her as a person, as well. And not just because she heals our aeons for us. She is a lady. I mean, also an undead, but it's rude to comment on these things. I usually lose this first aeon duel, but I'll give it my all anyway. Yes! I got off two Energy Blasts with a whole 37 HP to spare! Is Belgemine looking for Yuna specifically? Did she maybe meet Braska, either while alive or after death? Or is she just meeting up with all the promising summoners to see if one of them will prove worthy of her sisters? She's so mysterious and cool, I love her. Everyone has to practice their smiling faces when little kids cheer for Yuna bringing the Calm. It's very awkward, especially for Callie's mom, who does know. Now I'm talking to Luzzu and Gatta again, which of course leads me to the eternal question: who shall live and who shall die, who by fire and who by drowning, who by sword and who by beast. It's like the one branching-paths decision we make in this game, which means I think about it a lot. Additionally, when I first played this game I was deep in my Achilles/Patroclus phase and these two gave me feelings. They still do, but now the feelings contain a strong element of nostalgia. This area is just full of NPCs I love. Shelinda is a doormat, but I am fond of her. Even if it a bit rich of her to say, "It's not about defeating Sin!" to a summoner. Defeating Sin is everything to Yuna. And she still goes out of her way to make Shelinda feel better. Yuna is so kind. Auron does not have time for your racist bullshit, Wakka. Also we're all low on MP, especially you, and MP is life. We are not doing the other half of the Highroad like this. Continued adventures of endeavoring not to boost Lulu's affection through the roof. Lu, I love you, and I love talking to you, but please, let me get cutscenes with Yuna. I firmly believe that Yuna asked her guardians not to tell Tidus the full truth, after this scene if not before. She doesn't want him to change how he treats her. (How he treats her: giving her minor crises of faith every time they talk, but in a good way.) She's in a particularly yearning mood here, not least because she's just been recording her will. And here comes Tidus, acting like she has a future... (And all her other guardians pretending not to be eavesdropping.) (Up until Auron can't take it anymore, anyway.) Enter Rin, Al Bhed ambassador (unofficial). At least, he's the one out there taking up space and being Highly Visible, suggesting strangers learn the language, doing all that stuff. He is, however, definitely wearing a kink collar. No, I do not know why. I knocked the Chocobo Eater off the cliff for the very first time! Usually I kill it before pushing it that far back, but with Lulu, Auron, and Tidus all hasted, it didn't get enough turns to push back. This is usually the part of the game where I save the chocobo ride for later and grind for Ability Spheres. With Extract Ability, this will probably take less time than usual, though I also appreciate the extra AP. Plus I want to get Kimahri 'round to Steal ASAP. [Some time later] I wonder what Dona does between getting turned away at the gate and meeting us in Djose. Is there another way around, or does she just wait until Operation Mi'ihen explodes and take the main road? She's quite close behind us. I wonder if she stays to help with the aftermath as well, or if she just heads onward. She definitely got ahead of us at some point (Guadosalam if not before). I find her blend of selfishness and selflessness very intriguing. Seymour's moving on Yuna even here. I wonder if he picked her over Dona and Isaaru because she was the one he happened to encounter, or if it was deliberate: she's younger, more naive certainly than Dona, and certainly seems very devout (liable to be dazzled by a maester's attention), less experienced...younger. But I expect Seymour would have gotten quite a long way with Isaaru, who is after all the most devout of the three - and besides, if Seymour told him what becomes of a chosen guardian, Isaaru might do a lot to keep his brothers from that fate. Seymour says all the right things to and about the Crusaders, even things Tidus thinks (and we are likely to think) are true, but he doesn't mean any of them. He just wants the operation to occur as part of his power struggle with Kinoc, with a bonus of having an effect on Yuna, making her more urgently want to complete the pilgrimage before more people die. I doubt Auron's 100% got Seymour's specific number yet, but he does know he's a maester, and Auron is the founder of Team Fuck Yevon. He knows you don't move up in the ranks without stepping on the people below you. (I mean, also Seymour advocates blatant hypocrisy, which is just the Yevon leadership trademark.) Being asked to perform the sending before people die may be more of a burden than being asked after. That's a heavy emotional burden to place on a teenager. (Although I do think legal/cultural adulthood in Spira is younger than it is for us - life is short no time for childhood.) Fact: the first time I played, I didn't even notice Luzzu and Gatta standing over there and missed the scene entirely. It's a good scene, and really highlights how much Tidus still doesn't understand on a gut level. He sees Gatta wanting to fight, and doesn't think that he could die, and of course there're warring impulses there. God though, the HD remaster takes all the character out of Wakka's face, and I hate it. You know, some people might see saying, "I'll propose when we win the cup," as meaning, "when pigs fly". But I guess that doesn't make sense considering Lulu's behavior. "Being with your girl is good, but keeping Sin far away from her is better." God. Men. I mean, in Spira it's not just men - Lulu went on two pilgrimages to try to keep Yuna alive - but she's also not someone who appreciates being protected. Yeah, Tidus doesn't understand yet why Yuna let Luzzu go, because he doesn't know that she's going to her death, too. And if she feels it right to ignore all the people she loves and who love her telling her not to go, then it's right for Luzzu to do the same. They both think saving the world is more important. Wakka, Wakka no, Wakka don't - see? Racism and religious fundamentalism leads to hurting yourself by kicking a cannon when you're wearing sandals. (I do appreciate the realism though.) I flipped a coin, and it looks like this run, Gatta lives and Luzzu dies. I don't really have an opinion on which is best; it's tragic either way. Though I guess it feels a little more narratively awful to have Tidus naively suggesting Gatta go to the front lines where he gets killed...But the coin has spoken. I appreciate how they give Kinoc character and relationships in so little time. Just his intro - he walks up and hugs Auron, not a huggable person - says something. Auron is still stiff and cagey with him, but that he allowed himself to be embraced says there's more there. Of course, he's also plotting Operation Mi'ihen to break the Crusaders (and, if X-2 is taken into account, setting up the deaths of the Crimson Squad - I think to take out potential rivals), so it's not like he's a good person or anything. But he's less flat. Got the overkill on Gui with ease, thanks to Energy Blast. (And got everyone AP.) Man, Sin's arrival is Lovecraftian as fuck. I like it. The black tendrils snaking through the bay... top creepiness. How Lucil, Elma, and Clasko - how anyone - survived Sin's blast I'll never know. People were disintegrated where they stood! I also don't know how Seymour, a full caster, has the Strength to physically hold off Gui2. It's been weakened, sure, but come the heck on. (His Summon command, which he must have, is also not there. I guess we're not allowed to get a sneak peek of Anima yet.) I appreciate the extra touch of giving Seymour AP, to trick you into thinking he's going to join the party long-term. :C They almost got a shot off on Sin, but unfortunately, horseshoes and hand grenades. Also heartrending: the messages that come up when you check the corpses. Shut up, Seymour, I have another Energy Blast in me. Besides, he could go for Sin at any time; he has his Final Aeon, after all. But he won't. He'd rather destroy the world than save it with his death. And he wants Yuna to feel helpless, so she'll feel like she needs him. Oh no the dead kid who we saw practicing to avenge his sister...no...stop it... Before Jecht came to Spira, his drinking didn't have real consequences to him. He was "still the best", after all. He still had a wife who wouldn't leave him. He hurt other people, but they didn't confront him about it. It took Spira to make him see that it was a problem. Hell of a thing to put on your kid, like, "Hey, son, can I get a mercy kill? Thanks." Though I guess that is...I mean, end-of-life care is a traditional part of a child's duties. Just...not usually in your teens.

[harlequinlaw]

Unwritten

She felt somewhat stupid…well really the more she thought about it the more stupid she felt. Yet, it had to have sounded good at some point, right? In fact, she had been just as excited about doing this as all the other girls in her Ancient Myths & Legends class earlier that day.

The class had been assigned a project in which they had to present information about a myth revolving around an object or place somewhere in their area of Karakura. Next they debated how probable each myth was and what had occurred to start it. Rangiku had found out about an old well that was located on a shrine near her home. She had said that according to the information she received from the shrine maiden, that calling out the name of one of the Seven Lucky Gods who blessed the well, then making a wish, would make it come true.

Rukia had stressed about finals since Midterm and Momo had suggested that everyone go make a wish on the well for good finals, since tonight was the right phase of the moon for success. Everyone in the class had thought it was a great idea and they had all decided to meet later in the evening to go by and make a wish. Rangiku had been the only one to show up at the spot they decided to gather at and she told Rukia that everyone else would meet them at the shrine later. After arriving at the shrine, Rangiku had then run off with her boyfriend Gin when he showed up, leaving poor Rukia there alone to do it by herself.

The shrine was beautiful with kasuga-zukuri style buildings made of stunning Sequoioideae and jade that looked well maintained with large sakura trees scattered throughout. Rukia walked down the sandō, passing the tōrō that decorated the sides of the walkway. There was a samusho with a shop that sold religious trinkets located across from the ema. A haiden for praying was located at the end of the sandō with a large honden located directly behind the haiden. There were smaller sessha on the grounds as well. The well was located off in a corner next to a large sakura tree in full bloom. The well itself was made of charming gray marble that stood just above Rukia’s waist, with a small roof that looked old and worn compared to the other buildings. Rukia watched as sakura petals floated to the ground around her before she walked up to the well and looked over into it. It didn’t seem to be anything special but most things that had myths revolving around them didn’t, in her opinion.

It was late and Rukia found her way to the well using the dim light cast off the nearby lanterns and the streams of moonlight of the evening’s full moon. The sky was void of clouds and slowly stars burst forth in the darkening sky in an array of illumination. For a moment, Rukia considered turning around and just going home but surprisingly she decided that it couldn’t hurt anything if she did make a wish; so she looked around to make sure no one was watching and proceeded to make her wish as Rangiku had instructed. The directions were to throw a coin in the air and make a wish before it hits the water and the bigger the coin, the better the chance you have at getting your wish. Rukia went over her wish one last time before tossing the coin into the air and as she looked down; he stepped into her line of vision.

I threw a wish in the well, Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell I looked to you as it fell, And now you’re in my way

I’d trade my soul for a wish, Pennies and dimes for a kiss I wasn’t looking for this, But now you’re in my way

As she closed azure eyes and began her wish, his face appeared in her mind’s eye and a slight blush graced ivory cheeks. Quickly, Rukia became irritated at her lack of control and inability to concentrate on something so simple. She tried to focus on what she wanted, but again thoughts of him plagued her mind. At that moment, she heard a “plop” from the sound of the coin hitting the water…she had gotten to – I wish – and all other thought was consumed by him.

As she opened her eyes, he was standing a short distance away, leaning up against a wall staring at her between sips of water from a bottle he was holding. Or maybe he was glaring; she wasn’t sure because of the scowl on his face. His eyebrows were drawn up over dark amber eyes, under a messy shock of ginger hair that whipped in the warm breeze. Rukia couldn’t remember if she had ever seen hair that bright before, as it had a slight glow in the early moonlight. She caught a scent on the wind of the forest after a spring rain and musky vanilla. It was distinctly masculine but it was pleasant to her senses and she figured it must belong to the male that was a short distance away. He looked to be about the same age as her, maybe a year or two older and was wearing a dirty white t-shirt and some jeans with rips in the knees with the bottoms ragged from use covering up work boots.

Your stare was holdin’, Ripped jeans, skin was showin’ Hot night, wind was blowin’ Where you think you’re going, baby?

At that point, he stood up from the wall and turned to walk away. Suddenly, something came over Rukia and she found herself running up to him. She grabbed his arm, floundering momentarily with what to say and finally a soft “Hey”, came out of her lips. He turned around at her statement and Rukia found herself pulled into his amber gaze. She couldn’t understand why she couldn’t look away and pondered on what he must be thinking of the situation as well. As she was contemplating the exact color of his eyes, a warm voice brought her out of her musings, “Hey, you alright?” His statement clearing the fog in her brain and with a startled expression clearly on her face, Rukia came back from her earlier musings.

It’s hard to look right, At you baby, But here’s my number, So call me, maybe?

Suddenly, his phone went off in his pocket and he looked at it to see who was calling. Rukia wondered who had called; waited patiently for him to speak and held her breath when he looked down at her. “Sorry, but I gotta go. It’s late and I’ve got class in the morning”, the smooth timber of his voice wrapping around her senses. “Oh right, I’ve got classes tomorrow too. I’m so sorry; I don’t know what came over me.” Brought back to her senses, Rukia released his arm and watched as he gave a small nod with a slight smirk on his face before he walked away.

After he had rounded the corner out of Rukia’s eyesight she slowly blinked, realizing that she had been staring at him as he walked away. Just then she turned to walk back to her apartment and her foot collided with something. When she looked down, she noticed a toolbox that he had sat down when he had walked over there earlier. A spark of mischief and bravery shot through Rukia as she decided to do something extremely impulsive for a Kuchiki. She found a notepad in her bag and wrote:

To the orange-haired boy at the well,_

Hey, I just met you and this is crazy,_

but here’s my number, so call me…maybe?

From the dark-haired girl at the well._

Then she scribbled her number at the bottom and stuck the card in the toolbox where she knew he would see it, she thought – how sad is this that I don’t even know his name –? As she walked home, Rukia felt a bit happier than she had in a long time, a small smile coming to her lips.

And all the other boys, Try to chase me, But here’s my number, So call me, maybe?

To say that Rukia was popular with the boys would be an understatement. As a Kuchiki, a reputation had preceded her into college and most of the male population tried for her attention as a way of creating ties between their family and the honored Kuchiki clan. Thankfully, Rukia was still attending Karakura Junior College, so her classes were primarily female. She only had to deal with upper class-men from Karakura University at the quarterly formals marking the change of seasons and semesters.

You took your time with the call, I took no time with the fall You gave me nothing at all, But still, you’re in my way

Ichigo looked down at the number scrawled across the paper he held in his hand. He had debated about whether to call the strange girl or tack it up to ‘things that happen when you’re out too late’. He thought back to that day, almost a week ago, and to the strange girl Rukia. She had dark raven hair that ended at her shoulders with a slip of bangs that fell between large azure eyes nestled in an ivory face. That girl had been wearing her uniform, which let Ichigo know which college she attended and after talking with his friend Tatsuki he found out that her name was Rukia. It consisted of a white short-sleeved blouse, peacock-colored, pleated skirt with a matching vest that contained the schools crest on the left breast. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t yelled at her when she ran up and grabbed him. When he turned around to look at her, his voice failed him and he was suddenly lost in her large eyes.

After talking to his friend Tatsuki, who attended the same college as Rukia, he decided that he would give her a call. Tatsuki had told him that she never saw Rukia with a guy, and he was curious as to why this girl Rukia decided to slip her number to him without knowing his name.

Ichigo dialed her number and waited as it rang a few times before going to voice mail. First, he felt annoyed that she had given him her number and then not answered. After that he decided that she didn’t know his number and probably thought it was a wrong number. So, he dialed the number again and waited for the voice mail to go through and left her a message…"Hey, Rukia. This is Ichigo from the other day at the well. –Wow that sounds so dumb– Anyway, I thought that maybe we could go out this weekend? Give me a call back if you’re busy; otherwise, I will see you Friday around 7 at the Kamui Shrine.“

I beg, and borrow and steal Have foresight and it’s real I didn’t know I would feel it, But it’s in my way

She had been in class when Ichigo called. Rukia had pondered the irony between his name and his bright hair color…and how did he find out her name? Doing everything she could to be able to make the date Friday, though she wasn’t sure why she was trying so hard or why every time someone asked about Friday, Rukia found herself blushing and making up excuses. She begged her friend Renji to cover her shift tutoring that night. Momo had insisted that she borrow a cute summer dress of hers for the evening, the violet color accented the matching flecks in her eyes. Rukia spent all afternoon stealing glances at the clock during class in anticipation for when she could leave and get ready.

Rangiku, who happened to be Ichigo’s cousin, had told Rukia that she knew they would have a great time. That she had seen it in a dream and her dreams were never wrong. Rukia had a sneaking suspicion that her friends had set her up, yet she pondered if Ichigo was aware of it also. Deciding that the success of the date would determine her 'friends’ fates, she began the short walk to Kamui Shrine.

Before you came into my life I missed you so bad And you should know that I missed you so, so bad

Rukia arrived ten minutes early, surprised to find Ichigo was there waiting for her. She observed him for a minute, wanting to know a little more about him before walking over. Rukia had to admit that Ichigo cleaned up pretty nicely. He wore a white t-shirt under a deep violet, short-sleeved dress shirt, with khaki pants and brown dress shoes. His orange hair was spiked up just as she had seen it before, though she guessed he couldn’t get it to lie down if he tried. She watched as he paced back and forth with a slight scowl on his face as though he was in deep thought. As she pondered what he could be thinking about to bring such a look to his face, Ichigo suddenly stopped and looked towards her. Rukia jumped slightly at the intense look in his eyes before making her way over to him.

Ichigo took in Rukia’s appearance as she made her way over to him. Every hair on her raven head was in place, with light makeup on her face that accented her eyes and made them look larger than they already were. Her dress came to just above her knees and was violet in color with splashes of yellow on it that made her look like she had been painting. She wore dainty yellow shoes on her feet to complete her outfit. Realization hit him that Rangiku must have known what Rukia was wearing since she told him to wear the shirt he had on and thus they now matched…how sappy.

Rukia stopped a couple of feet from Ichigo and bowed before holding out her hand. Ichigo returned the bow and shook her hand as she spoke, "I think a proper introduction is in order. Hello, my name is Rukia Kuchiki. It’s nice to meet you, officially.” Ichigo returned the gesture, “Hello, my name is Ichigo Kurosaki. It’s also nice to officially meet you. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I am”, replied Rukia. Ichigo held out his arm for Rukia to take and she was again surprised at his actions. He didn’t come across as a person with such manners, but then again Rukia didn’t know much about him and was just going from her assumption of him based on his appearance from one meeting.

Taking his arm, Ichigo led them to a nearby park. They walked down a cobblestone path passing sakura trees in bloom and under weeping willows whose branches hung over the trail. They stopped for a moment at a stone bridge that crossed over a small stream leading to the lake just ahead. Beautiful wildflowers of every color sat along the ground in the dimming light and the couple watched the sun begin to set on the water, the sky painted in crimson, ochre, amber, fuchsia, and azure. Rukia gasped at the beauty of it all and quickly pulled her camera out of her purse and took a quick snapshot. She glanced over at Ichigo and noticed that in the dimming light his hair appeared to be on fire. Rukia took a picture of Ichigo leaning on the railing of the bridge with a serene look on his face, like he had spent many evenings in that exact spot watching the sun set. Suddenly, Rukia heard Ichigo murmur:

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date … .”

Putting her camera away, Rukia took a step towards Ichigo and he jumped slightly, coming out of his trance. He looked down at Rukia and offered his arm again. She gladly took it, appreciating the quiet moment he had shared with her.

After leaving the park, they walked along the street towards a small bistro that Rukia recognized. She had heard that the food was excellent, but had never been in the neighborhood to stop and try it out. They were seated shortly and gave their orders. Rukia ate rice dumplings with cucumber and eggs while Ichigo ate karashi mentaiko. “Whose work were you reciting earlier at the bridge”, came the quiet question from Rukia. “Oh, I didn’t realize that I said that out loud. It’s a sonnet written by Shakespeare. I’m a theatre and martial arts major at KU and I specialize in Shakespeare.”

“That’s quite a combination. I’m an arts and ancient literature major. I thought that sonnet sounded familiar. This is my last year at KJC and I will be a freshman at KU in the fall”, Rukia informed Ichigo.“ Oh, that explains the camera you had earlier. That is a great place for photography. Each season has its own special look”, replied Ichigo. They continued chatting for a bit while they finished up their meals. Afterward, they headed to the patio for a few drinks before they noticed some of their friends walking by. Gin and Rangiku, Uryu and Orihime, Toshiro and Momo, Renji and Tatsuki, Chad, Mizuiro and Keigo stopped when they noticed Ichigo and Rukia sitting at a table on the patio of the bistro. Rangiku ran up to the railing, dragging Gin along behind her. “Hey, you guys should come with us to the new club down the street. It’s opening night so the cover charge is half off.”

Normally, the first response from both of them would have been no, but after a few drinks they both decided that going to the club wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially since there was no school the next day. Ichigo paid their tab and again offered his arm to Rukia. All the girls awed at them and Rukia blushed while Ichigo looked away and scratched the back of his head. They decided to run by their apartments and change before heading out. Now Rukia was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt with slits in the arms with cut off jean shorts and low heels. Ichigo was sporting a long-sleeved white shirt with a black vest and worn jeans with sneakers.

By now it was nearing 10:00 pm and both Ichigo and Rukia were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier. Everyone paid to get into the new club Kabuki, which was a club themed after the classical Japanese dance. The club was filled with lavish decorations including kabuki masks and the staff was dressed in kabuki style uniforms. The group got a table and ordered drinks while everyone talked and got better acquainted. With the noise being so loud, everyone had to yell to be heard. As soon as the next song started up however, the girls got quiet before jumping up and dragging their men to the dance floor. Rukia had been sitting at the table talking to her friends while Ichigo went to get them another drink. Rukia realized that she had missed things like this. She noticed him across the room and once again something came over her as she stood and made her way towards him to let him know that she missed him.

When the group first arrived…

After the group grabbed a spot to sit, they split off into two groups. All the girls wanted to know how Rukia’s evening with Ichigo was going so far and the guys were bugging Ichigo about whether he was going to get laid that night, much to their shared dismay. Rangiku ordered some shots for the girls and Renji ordered a few pitchers of beer for the guys.

“So Rukia, how has my cousin been treating you tonight?” came the question from Rangiku before downing her first shot. “He’s been a perfect gentleman the entire evening, Rangiku”, Rukia replied while eyeing her shot warily. “Really? Those acting classes must be coming in handy,” Tatsuki said with surprise evident in her voice. “Maybe he just really likes Rukia, so he is being shy,” piped up Momo. “If so, Rukia is in for a shock when she gets a dose of his usual demeanor,” Rangiku added with a slight chuckle. Rukia sat back listening to what everyone was saying, wondering how everyone else seemed to know her date so well, when she had just met him. She looked over to see her orange-haired date glaring at the other guys at the table with a slight blush on his face and Rukia wondered what they were talking about.

“Guys, I’ve only known Rukia for a few hours. What on earth makes you think she is going to put out on the first date or that I’m even going to try?” came the gruff response from Ichigo after Renji’s inquiry to his progress tonight. “Rangiku and I barely made it through dinner before heading back to my place,” came the remark from Gin as he grinned at Ichigo. “I really didn’t need to know that about my cousin, Gin,” Ichigo replied bluntly, “It was bad enough she wouldn’t let me get dressed in private earlier.” That remark earned a chuckle from the guys at the table. “The rest of you have no room to talk either, since you all knew your girlfriends before you got together,” Ichigo said pointedly to Renji, Toshiro and Uryu.

“By the way Renji, how come you seem to know Rukia so well, but I’ve never met her?” Ichigo questioned. “Oh, my dad’s firm has represented the Kuchiki’s for a long time, so Rukia and I spent quite a bit of time together at business parties and such,” Renji replied looking embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He didn’t like to be judged by his father’s reputation, so he didn’t talk about it much. “Her brother Byakuya was very particular about who Rukia interacted with when she was younger. She was home schooled until high school and then she went to a private academy. Rukia threatened to never marry if Byakuya didn’t let her attend KJC,” Renji said followed by a laugh when imagining Rukia telling Byakuya anything.

At this point both groups had consumed more alcohol than they probably should have and most likely they would all be regretting it one way or another by the next morning. Everyone else had made their way to the dance floor and Rukia was currently sitting at the table waiting for Ichigo to bring her a drink. They had just come from the floor and were catching a breather…mainly because neither of them cared for the current song.

Rangiku knew that if anything was going to happen between Rukia and Ichigo that night that Rukia would have to be the one to initiate things. She knew Ichigo had a lot of respect for women and would never try anything while they were drinking. Rangiku also knew that with the right persuasion, Ichigo might come over the dark side with the rest of them…after all she was his cousin and she knew way too much about the guy.

The girls found a really good song that they knew Rukia was familiar with and that might push all the right buttons with Ichigo. They instructed the DJ to play the first half of the song without the words and that their friend would be singing that part.

Rukia saw the girls run over to her and Rangiku was bringing a microphone headset along with her. She knew what that meant and while she would usually refuse, she was feeling generous tonight. While she had just been contemplating her feelings for Ichigo, the girls had presented her with the perfect way for her to let loose and not really think about it. Taking the headset, Rukia stood up and walked over to Ichigo as the music started to play. As Ichigo began to turn around with their drinks, he noticed Rukia coming towards him and over the noise of the club he heard her voice ring out.

Hey, over there, please forgive me If I’m coming on too strong Hate to stare, but you’re winning And they’re playing my favorite song

Rukia sauntered up to Ichigo, who was as still as a statue in awe and shock of what she was doing. Who would have thought that a girl such as Rukia would be able to sing like that…and willing to sing a song like this? Rukia ran her hand along Ichigo’s shoulders as she circled him, stopping in front of him to run her hands down his chest, then taking their drinks and placing them back on the counter. Grabbing his vest, Rukia started pulling Ichigo closer to her as the next line of the song started.

So come here, a little closer Wanna whisper in your ear Make it clear, little question Wanna know just how you feel

Rukia pulled Ichigo down so that she could whisper in his ear…at this point everyone in the club was hanging on every word she said. Each person waiting to see what Rukia would do next. 

If I said my heart was beating loud If we could escape the crowd somehow If I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me?

(Ichigo’s eyes widened)

Rukia ran her hands up Ichigo’s chest to meet behind his neck, doing her best to pull herself flush up against him. Running her hands down his arms to thread their fingers together and twisting so that her back was now pressed up against Ichigo’s front, Rukia recited the next lines of the song.

‘Cause you feel like paradise And I need a vacation tonight So if I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me?

As the final line left Rukia’s lips, she shifted back to look into Ichigo’s eyes. Ichigo was so caught up in her words, the sounds around them fading away as he focused on the way Rukia looked, her perfume making him lightheaded. Ichigo lifted his hand to Rukia’s face and bent over to kiss her deeply, trying to convey his feelings in that single act.

Rukia, still holding Ichigo’s hand, turned and pulled him out onto the dance floor.

Hey, you might think that I’m crazy But you know I’m just your type I might be a little hazy But you just cannot deny

There’s a spark in between us When we’re dancing on the floor I want more, wanna see it So I’m asking you tonight

One of the guys had grabbed a headset and tossed it to Ichigo, knowing that at this point there was no way he would back down from a challenge. Ichigo surprised Rukia by singing the next part as he twirled her around, hearing a giggle escape her which brought a smile to his face.

If I said my heart was beating loud If we could escape the crowd somehow If I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me?

‘Cause you feel like paradise And I need a vacation tonight So if I said I want your body now Would you hold it against me?

Rukia’s eyes grew larger than normal at the timber of Ichigo’s voice. She would have never guessed that her poet could sing. It flowed over her body like warm honey and a shiver ran down her spine as she imagined how husky it could get. Rukia’s favorite part of the song was coming up so she gave Ichigo a look, hoping to convey her message to him…which he seemed to get as he gave her a wink in return. The next part they said together.

If I said I want your body Would you hold it against me?

Rukia pulled herself out of Ichigo’s arms as the girls came up behind her. They had made up a group dance for that part and proceeded to do it as the guys walked up behind Ichigo. As the dance wore down, each girl walked up and grabbed her man before they moved off to continue dancing. Finally, Ichigo was the last one standing as Rukia came up and wrapped her arms around him. The night continued along, with the pair getting a lot of grief from the group over their performance, though everyone was honestly impressed with how well they worked together.

Ichigo escorted Rukia home, both having decided that the night was a total success. They had parked in Rukia’s driveway when Ichigo spoke up, “So, I had a great time tonight. Call me?” Rukia was surprised that Ichigo had asked her to make the next move, “Maybe. But you’ll have to actually leave first”, giving Ichigo a suggestive smirk at the end. Grabbing his keys from the ignition, Rukia gave him a quick peck before jumping out of the car and sprinting towards her house…evil laughter bubbling out as she contemplated where to hide the keys. Ichigo sat stunned for a minute before what she had said and done finally registered in his brain. Climbing out of the car, he hurried to the house, locking the door on his way through as he set out to find Rukia and eventually his keys.

Ichigo felt the couch shift as Rukia moved to grab some popcorn from the bowl that was perched on his stomach. When a runaway kernel hit him in the eye, Ichigo looked up from Rukia’s lap to see the girl covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter, though the shaking of her body gave it all away. Removing the offending kernel and popping it in his mouth, he returned his attention back to the movie they were watching.

Honestly, at this point Ichigo was getting tired of this movie. One of his theatre related classes required that they watch The Mask of Zorro. Now watching the movie wasn’t difficult, it was all the paperwork that had accompanied it. He had a packet of questions to answer before he watched the movie, after he watched the movie and another one to answer as he watched it again. All relating to how your perception changes based on your knowledge and how foreshadowing can benefit or harm a production. The dance scene was coming up and Ichigo decided that they needed a change of pace. Hopping up from the couch, Ichigo turned and bent down on one knee before Rukia, holding out his hand and mouthed along with the voice on the screen.

“Would you care to try something more robust, or do you feel unequal to the task?” He noticed Rukia’s eyes light up almost instantly and knew that she had caught on to what he was doing as she placed her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet and away from the couch.

“No. On the contrary Don Alejandro, I think only of your distaste for perspiration.” Ichigo laughed at the haughty look in Rukia’s eyes as she delivered her lines.

He pulled her over to an open area in the living room as the music started. Ichigo twirled her into a dip with his left arm before switching her over into a dip on his right. The pair did a few fun spins and twirls before the music started becoming more serious and they came back together, Ichigo lifting Rukia off the ground to make up for her lack in height as he buried his nose in her neck, making her giggle before they sprung apart once again. Rukia moved low to the ground as Ichigo rose in the air, then each doing different dance poses as they moved in a circle around each other. Together and back, then together again…each move more dramatic than the last. They moved to the left and the right, Ichigo picking Rukia up as needed before twirling her around. Ichigo lowered Rukia to the floor before pulling her up…Rukia jumping up to wrap her legs around Ichigo’s waist. The dance over and the show left in the background as the pair got lost in each other.

Ichigo proceeded to press Rukia up against the wall…following his previous movements with his mouth, wrapping one arm about her waist as the other braced himself, while Rukia plunged her hands into citrus hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. After a moment, Ichigo pulled away before resting his forehead against Rukia’s.

“One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well;  another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman,  one woman shall not come in my grace.”

Rukia ran her hands down to cup Ichigo’s face, “Using Shakespeare to sweet talk me? You clever boy.”

Ichigo moved back and fell down on the couch, Rukia in his lap, “Well, I’ve got to keep impressing you. It’s only been a few months and there is not nearly enough of our stuff sitting around each others place. You’d think we barely see each other.” Rukia laughed at the serious look on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around Rukia and hid his face in her neck, “Besides, Byakuya isn’t my biggest fan…so if I don’t have you on my side, I’ll never get to keep you.”

“With hair as garish as yours, can you blame him?” Ichigo glared at the insult as Rukia smirked back at him.

“I’m not dyeing it black. If it hurts his eyes so much, he can wear sunglasses. Pretentious ass”, irritation clear in Ichigo’s voice.

Rukia straightened up to look at Ichigo, “Anyway, after the last formal…I’m pretty sure most of the campus knows who is coming home with me.”

“Hey, I honestly had no clue that there was a fan-club dedicated to me! Rangiku is the hustling busybody who started the damn thing. It was utterly embarrassing. Thankfully, you were there to rescue me from the clutches of those scandalous women”, Ichigo had gotten rather dramatic at the end.

Rukia laughed at his act before she spoke, “I definitely never thought we’d have to defend each other from a hoard of would-be suitors.”

“If that bunch of stuffed shirts would have left well enough alone, I wouldn’t have decided to step in”, Ichigo retorted with a smug look.

Rukia nodded in agreement, “Yeah, the look on their faces was priceless. You know, if you’d just come out and tell people you’re part of the Shiba family…they’d lay off. I know you want to make it on your own merit though. Just one more thing about you that draws me in, I guess.”

Rukia laid her head down on Ichigo’s chest and they sat there in silence for a few minutes…the television in the background simply noise behind their thoughts.

Rukia mumbled into the shirt under her cheek, “So, Ichigo. When are you going to hunt for your keys again? It’s been about a week since the last time.”

Ichigo looked thoughtful for a moment before he responded, “I suppose I should look again. I think you keep moving them on me, to be honest. My poor car has sat in your drive for months now. Plus, I’m still making payments and keeping insurance on a car I can’t use.”

“That’s why you don’t keep your spare with the original. And yes, I keep moving the keys cause I take your car out once a week to keep it in shape”, Rukia snickered at the shocked look on Ichigo’s face.

“Seriously! So you haven’t lost them. I’ve got to find those keys.” Ichigo tossed Rukia over his shoulder and started his mad dash search through her house…which generally ended somewhere upstairs, around her bedroom. Rukia was good at distracting him that way. If only he knew that she did it when he was getting close…unless he did know and was just playing along.

[robinhoodrevisited]

Trust Issues (pt.3)

Nottingham Town. Marketplace. (Robin casually circles Rose and puts a nut into his mouth.) Robin: “This the Sheriff’s work?” (Robin takes another nut from his hand and pops it into his mouth, stepping in front of her. Rose speaks in a slightly Welsh accent.) Rose: (Annoyed:) “Just go away. (Robin stops, surprised her attitude.) Look, I don’t want any sympathy and I don’t want any manky food thrown at me. So unless you’ve got a better idea, go away.” Robin: (Circling her again:) “Well, how about I rescue you?” Rose: (Scoffs.) “No thanks.” Robin: (Stands close to her. Softly:) “I am Robin Hood.” Rose: (Looks at him.) “Really? (Robin takes a step away and pops another nut into his mouth.) No thanks. I’m taking the punishment for me children. They were caught stealing scraps from the castle kitchens. (A boy and a girl appear in between tables under the marketplace’s awnings. to the children:) Go on, shoo! (The children scamper off.) I’ve got to stay or they get it. It’s just for a day. So do me a favour and get lost.” Robin: (Walking to her side:) “If you and your children need extra food, my men and I can help. (Robin slips a small coin into her hand behind the post.) Every few days we bring those in need a little food and money. I can add you to our list… if you give me your name.” (Glances at the castle sentries.) Rose: “What? You think because you’ve given me a coin I’m going to tell you my name?” Robin: (A flustered sigh. Looks behind him.) “I have to go. You don’t have to give me your name. (Walking away:) Just be in the market on Thursdays. My men’ll find you.” (Disappears between the tables.) Rose: “Hey! (Robin turns around and comes back.) Rose. My name’s Rose. (Robin nods and leaves.) Thank you.” (Smiles slyly, watching Robin go.) Nottingham Castle. Sheriff’s quarters. (The two children from the marketplace enter. The Sheriff claps once, stepping away from the birdcages.) Sheriff: “Excellent, my tiny tricksters. (Bends down to them.) Now, where’s Gisborne, hm? Tell Gisborne it’s show time! (The Sheriff wiggles their shoulders and they giggle.) Good. Very good.”

Sherwood Forest. Outlaws Camp. (Much has arrived back at camp and is relaying Robin's instructions.) Will: "Yeah but Allan's better at thinking of ways into the castle than I am." Much: "Well Robin said we have to figure out a way of getting over the wall." Djaq: "Where is Allan?" Much: "Oh I don't know, off sulking somewhere." Djaq: "Okay, well what about-" Little John: (Spotting the Princess:) "Clarke!" (The gang all turn to see Clarke walking towards their camp. Djaq and Will running to meet her.) Will: (Smiling:) "We lost track of you back at the castle, we were worried that-" Clarke: (Raising her hand:) "I'm fine. I've been with Octavia and Lincoln at their cave." (The three walk back towards camp.) Djaq: (Puzzled:) "But the last time we saw you, you were with the Commander." Clarke: (Nods:) "That's why I'm here. I've been asked to come and collect you all." Much: "Collect us, what for?" Clarke: "The Commander has granted us a truce. Today we all meet to formalise it. (Looking up to Little John:) I thought we could bring some of your home made booze, John. To share at the meeting." Much: "You're going to try and broker peace by giving them some of that stuff?!" Little John: (To Much, Annoyed:) "Oi. (To Clarke, Warily:) Where?" Clarke: "Back at their settlement. I was hoping to bring Marian and Edward with us after I came and got you. Where's Robin?" (The gang all look at each other, not sure where to begin.) Just outside Camp. (Octavia and Lincoln stand waiting for Clarke to return with the gang. Indra paces angrily near them, giving each a dirty look. Meanwhile on horseback, the Commander sits waiting alongside her bodyguard, Gustus.) Lexa: "Stop worrying, Gustus. Like you've always told me: 'all alliances are risky.'" Gustus: "This is not the same as uniting the twelve clans. The English are different. They're more like the Prince and his men than us. It could kill our coalition." Lexa: "Our coalition, or me?" Gustus: "You are the coalition, Commander." Lexa: (Considers this:) "Then do your job and protect me."

Nottingham Castle. Dungeons. (A ragged-looking prisoner is tugging at Allan’s leg.) Allan: “What? What? What?! What do you want?!” (Allan pulls his leg away from the prisoner and steps to the door, then sees Gisborne approaching.) Gisborne: “So tell me, where are your friends?” Allan: “What are you talking about? (Gisborne turns and heads for the stairs, stopping when Allan speaks.) Oh, not this again. You think I’m one of Robin Hood’s men, don’t you? The one who looks like me, what’s his name? Erm… Allan, right? No, no, my name’s Tom. Tom!” (A guard drags another prisoner between Gisborne and Allan, followed by the jailer.) Gisborne: “Don’t insult me. (Steps back to Allan.) What’s happened? Robin Hood kick you out, hm? (Allan looks aside.) Tricking working men in taverns doesn’t sound very Robin Hood to me.” Allan: “I told you, I don’t know Robin Hood.” Gisborne: “Show me some respect and maybe we can talk about a deal.” (A guard approaches.) Soldier: “Sir Guy, Sheriff says it’s show time.” (Gisborne raises his eyebrows at Allan as the Jailer stands behind him, then turns to go.) Gisborne: (to the Jailer:) “Torture him.” (The Jailer works a key loose.) Allan: “Hang on. Hang on! I admit, all right? I’m Allan A Dale.” (The cell door opens.) Gisborne: “Too late.” (The Jailer grabs Allan and pulls him out.) Allan: “I want a deal! You said a deal!” Gisborne: (Smiles.) “Too late. No need any more.”

Nottingham Town. Marketplace. (The executioner is sharpening a broadaxe. The castle gates open and the portcullis is raised. The children, being escorted by two guards, Gisborne and the Sheriff come out. Marian follows last. A drum sounds a sombre, repeating triple beat. The townsfolk all stop and form a circle to watch. The sentries at the gate cross their halberds in front of Marian and she is forced to stop. The Sheriff steps past Rose and smiles, ready to address the crowd. As he is about to speak, the drum sounds again and he glowers back at the drummer. The drumming stops.) Sheriff: “People… my dear people, these two young scallywags here think because they are children they can escape justice. (Tuts, wagging a finger.) They have committed a crime! One of my men saw fit to take pity on them and their mother and allowed her to take a punishment for them. Very generous… but misguided. (Holding his hands up:) They must lose a [grips his wrist] hand. (The townsfolk mutter in horror.) It is the law.” Rose: (Hysterically:) “No. No! My children, no!” Sheriff: (Grimaces at the noise.) “Ah… ah, motherly compassion. Very sweet, charming. Bring out the equipment.” (As Rose protests, the executioner continues sharpening the axe, a guard and a peasant man set a large wooden block in the middle of the marketplace and two more guards bring the children forward.) Rose: “Please, they’re children. They meant no harm. Please don’t take their hands, please!” Sheriff: “Shutup! (Rose sobs as the executioner puts a cabbage on the block and chops it easily in two with the axe. The Sheriff laughs.) Come along. Chop, chop. (Gisborne smirks. The children’s hands are clamped down to the block as the Sheriff gets out a parchment and reads.) I, Vaisey, Sheriff of Nottingham, hereby pronounce sentence on little tiny Billy and tiny little Jane, blah-di-blah-di-blah. Chop off their hands!” Rose: (Hysterically:) “Somebody save my children!” (Robin, standing on a nearby rooftop, shoots two arrows simultaneously into the block by the children’s hands. The townsfolk cheer. Marian impulsively smiles at the sight of him.) Robin: “Touch those children and there’s an arrow in it for you,Sheriff!” Sheriff: (Pointing to the executioner:) “Do it!” (The executioner raises the broadaxe and Robin shoots it out of his hand. Another arrow follows, landing in the side of Rose’s post and severing the rope binding her hands. She raises her hands in front of her face in amazement.)  

Robin: “Rose! Children! Run!” Rose: “They can’t! Help!” Marian: (Suspecting a ruse, quietly imploring Robin:) “No, Robin, don’t go down.” (Robin lets himself down a rope to the ground with his knife clenched in his teeth. Marian unhappily watches him. He takes out a guard with a kick and a swing of his scimitar, then runs into the marketplace. He grabs the sword arm of a charging guard and kicks him back, then turns, knocks aside the sword of another, kicks him in the chest, then drives the hilt of his sword into his back. He takes the knife out of his mouth. Robin tosses Rose the knife and she catches it.) Gisborne: “Now!” (Several cloaked guards who have been waiting around the marketplace pull off their disguises, draw their weapons and surround Robin with their swords pointed at him. Rose and Gisborne smile smugly. Robin turns from side to side, ready to face the newcomers with his scimitar, but 18 swords are too many for him. Marian watches miserably, helpless to intervene. Rose swaggers to Gisborne’s side. The Sheriff stands between them.) Robin: “Clever. Very, very clever.” Gisborne: “Put down your weapon, Hood.” Robin: (Drops his scimitar with a clatter. to Rose:) “So… tell me… are these even your children?” Rose: “Children? (Shudders in abhorrence. Robin shakes his head slightly, realising the ingenuity of the trick.) Now…you show me your face… and I’ll show you mine.” (She pulls off some fake skin from her nose and cheeks as Robin stares and the crowd mutter, then she pulls off her wig and some false teeth to reveal the woman Robin robbed in the forest. The townsfolk gasp. She smiles smugly as the Sheriff steps behind her.) Sheriff: “Did I tell you I had a sister, Hood?” 

Sherwood Forest. Warrior's Settlement. (The group of warriors, outlaws, Clarke, Lincoln and Octavia move along the dirt road, lead by the Commander. As they reach a fenced off area, Lexa stops her horse and dismounts.) Sentry: "Open the gate!" Gustus: (Turns towards the outlaws:) "Weapons." (Little John grips his staff tighter and Much looks nervously around as Lincoln steps forward.) Lincoln: (Handing over his dagger:) "We need to disarm before we enter." (Clarke steps forward and places her knife into the large box a warrior is holding. Taking her lead, Will relinquishes his axe to Gustus. Much and a reluctant Little John follow suit. Gustus moves to stand in front of Djaq who does not make a move to disarm. Silently, Gustus begins to remove the Saracen's weapons from her person himself. Djaq's eyes are cold and distrustful of the man before her. Once Gustus is satisfied that the gang have been fully disarmed, he turns to the Commander.) Gustus: "Commander, all clear." (Lexa nods then turns and leads the way as Indra and Gustus follow close behind. Looking to Will, Clarke nods and begins to follow the Commander also.) Further inside the Camp. (Moving deeper inside the walls of the camp we can see that although the clans could not have settled here for more than few months, there is no denying that the camp could easily be considered a village in it’s scale. The voices of the camp's inhabitants can be heard welcoming the Commander back.) Man: "Commander! Commander! Welcome back!" (As they draw closer however, many of the people notice Clarke and the outlaws and grow angry.) Woman: "Why have you brought them here?" Man: "Death to the English!" Another Man: "Murderers go home!" Much: (To Little John:) "Oh, I knew this was a bad idea." (Lexa continues into the village but is stopped by an enraged villager.) Villager: "The English took everything from me!" Gustus: "Stand aside" Villager: (Shaking his head:) "Murderers are not welcome here." (Lexa looks at the man then over to Gustus and nods. Taking his cue, Gustus moves forward and begins to assault the villager. Beating him viciously as the Commander looks on. Clarke rushes forward and speaks with Lexa.) Clarke: (Pleads:) "Commander, stop him, please! (Looking around at the gathered villagers:) They'll blame us for this too." (Lexa glances at Clarke before acquiescing.) Lexa: "Let him live." (Gustus immediately stops beating the man and other villagers rush to his aid, helping him to his feet. Turning to address the gathered masses.) Lexa: "These Englishmen and women march with us now. Anyone who tries to stop that, will pay with their life." (Clarke looks around at the warriors who show nothing but deference to their Commander. Pleased by their silence, Lexa turns and continues into camp.) Djaq: (Flatly:) "Quite the warm welcome."

Nottingham Castle. Dungeons. (Allan is tied to a post.) Allan: “Listen, listen. We can sort this out.” Jailer: “Shut it!” (The Jailer punches him in the stomach and circles him.) Allan: “How about a little bet, eh? You a betting man? How about a little wager?” (The Jailer slaps him, then leans an arm on Allan’s shoulder.) Jailer: “That’s no, by the way.” (Isabella arrives and walks into the cell.) Isabella: “That’s enough! Leave us.” Jailer: “I can’t leave the prisoner unguarded Milady, Sir Guy said-” Isabella: (interrupting:) “To enrage his sister so much that she beats you to a pulp?” Jailer: “No, I must’ve missed that part.” (He leaves, hurriedly.) Isabella: (Stepping towards Allan:) “Are you hurt?” Allan: “Me? Nah, he hits like Much.” Isabella: “I’m sorry this is happening to you, it’s my fault.” Allan: (Shakes his head:) “It was my own fault - conning people out of their money in broad daylight was asking for trouble.” Isabella: “Maybe, but I know the reason behind it.” Allan: (Looks to her then realises what she means:)  “It’s nothing to do with that.” Isabella: “I don’t find you less of a man because you’re poor, Allan. (Allan looks down.) Lord knows my husband had plenty of money and he was a monster.” Allan: “It’s not just that... It’s about my future, everything. (Looks up at her.) When the King was coming back it made me think about what I’m gonna do once I’m pardoned. (Laughs) If I’m pardoned.” (Isabella nods and slowly walks around Allan, bracing herself for his reaction.) Isabella: “That’s why I told Guy about us.” Allan: (His head snapping up:) “You what?” Isabella: “I had no choice! The Sheriff suspects that I killed my husband. It’ll be only a matter of time before he has me hanged unless I can do something to convince him otherwise.” Allan: (More than a little annoyed:) “So what, you thought you’d sacrifice me to your brother?” Isabella: (Putting her hands up in front of her to placate him:) “Not sacrifice… utlilise your…considerable talents. Gather information and relay it to my brother for payment.” Allan: (Takes a moment:) "I’m not being funny, but that’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard of.” Isabella: (Sighs:) “I will speak to Guy, I will get you out of here I swear it.” Allan: “Yeah, well I’d say ‘Break a leg’ but seeing where I am I don’t want to give the jailer any ideas." (They both look at each other and eventually Allan winks at her, Isabella smiles slightly, knowing things are alright between them, then turns and leaves the cell.)

[longformshorthand]

Runewright

Wanted to do creative writings for November, only just now finally starting some of it. Dedicated wordcount for every day, so I’ve gotta play a lot of catchup. Decided to finish up a short story about a tabletop OC, Joshua Willow. Professional spellslinger and wanted fugitive. I had about 1500-ish words of this written before I sat down today, and it clocked in at 3464. That’s not bad. Anyway, enjoy.

The sound of thunder welcomed his arrival into town, but it was a sound he was used to.  

Truth be told it always rained like shit on this side of the nearby river. But he was low on supplies, hadn't slept in a bed that actually fit the definition of the term in days, and the sack of coins that rested precariously off his belt was dangerously close to whipping away in the wind, for how light it was. And it was raining, so his one good cloak - hood over the face and all - was soaked to the bone and was gonna be useless to him if he tried to keep a pace like this. As much as he hated wandering into town this time of night - in this part of the country, to boot - he needed coin and comfort, and town was the only place he was going to get that sort of combo. You couldn't milk coins from cows. At least not with his talents.

So it came to pass that he was in a rain-drenched coat, slogging his way through god-forsaken mud, dragging his ragged ass into the most homey little hamlet he could stumble into late one evening. Smelling for all the world like wet hay and stale ale. Admittedly, that's because he'd polished off the flask that held the last of his 'reserve' and slept the last night in the middle of an abandoned barn, so taken all into account, they were correct. But like hell he'd admit to such a thing.

And with luck, he found a place open that might actually be one he fit in perfectly: Barn Owl Tavern, a nice cozy place that took up the majority of the main 'thoroughfare', if you could even call it that. But he wasn't even to the doors of that warm-looking hole in the wall before the people still outside, hiding under canopies and sheltered roofs were giving him dirty looks as he tried not to muddy his worn-to-the-sole boots too much more, though picked up his steps enough that he figured people wouldn't much try and pick a fistfight in the damn rain. He'd hope.

Sliding into the door of the tavern, the warmth washed over him like his favorite bottle of spirits. It wasn't much to look at, true - places like these never were. But damned if a nice roaring fire and a decent meal didn't put him in a better mood than he'd felt for the last few days of slumming it on the road. Making sure to wipe his boots on the rug at the front, he strode up to the woman at the counter, hood still drawn over his face.

"Pardon me, but would you by any chance have some rooms still available for the night?"

The girl looked up at him quizzically, and, perhaps, a bit of apprehension - after all, he didn't exactly look like your model citizen. Dark red hair with streaks of white, facial hair that hadn't seen a razor in a week, and a white tattoo that seemed to encompass his right eye - whose color was mismatched with his left, instead of a sea-foam green a more stark pearl-white. He was a mess, and he damn well knew it. He shoved down the urge to give a crooked grin to complete the visage of a madman.

"Well, I- one room, sir, but the ceiling leaks a bit in this weather-"

"Over the bed?" "No, sir." "How much?" "12 silvers, sir-" "And a hot meal with a drink?" "F-five silvers-. but" "I'll take it."

The girl seemed taken aback and flabbergasted - clearly trying to push him away with a leaky ceiling and substandard service. He rooted around in his pouch. Yeah, just enough. He dropped two gold coins on the counter. The young woman looked at him, admitting defeat as she pulled a ledger out of the underside.

"Your name...?" "Willow's fine." "Alright, Willow. It'll take some time to get you your meal and your room set up. Do you mind waiting down here?" "Not at all. Thanks."

With a curt nod, he managed to shuffle himself away from the counter and towards the roaring fireplace near the wall, cracking with enough heat he could feel his clothes already starting to dry a bit. For a brief moment, things looked up, and, drying himself in what looked like the cosiest chair one could draw up to the fire, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the tension seep out of his body a bit. Maybe for one he'd have a chance to step into town without everything going to-

"Oi, you!" Shit.

Heavy, lumbering steps seemed to cross the distance from the other side of the inn, the voice belligerent and bellowing at what he knew was his direction, but chose not to respond. Not that he didn't know he was referring to him, but it at least made him look slightly less suspicious if he waits until-

"I'm talkin’ to you, ya drippy hooded shitbag!" There it is. He starts to turn, looking up a well-built, heavyset man and his two lanky friends - all common folk and locals, by the look of it. And smelling to high heaven of cheap beer, the piss-drunk smell managing to seep through his own odorous aura of 'wet dog'.

"Hm? Yes, what is it?" He put on a polite, almost casual face - which wasn't hard, indifferent as he was to the trio of common folk glaring daggers at him.

"What it is, you out-of-towner asswipe, is that you're sitting in my seat." The heavyset man leaned down, giving him a beady eye. "And we locals don't like when out of towner asswipes coming into our favorite inn and steal our seats."

"Is that so." He could only respond with the coolest indifference to the man's anger.

"Yes, it is so, so if you'd kindly move your ass-"

"See, now, that's my fault, really. Terrible mistake on my part." He remained still in the seat (his seat), but he could feel a smirk starting to dance across his weathered face. "You see, claims like this, I was told to believe, needed to have some sort of written backing to them. And, well, you didn't look very literate to me."

A vein pulsed at the base of the man's neck, fingers curling into white-knuckled fists. "What did you say?"

"Oh, no, really, it's my mistake. See, you looked all the world to me like some illiterate hooch-guzzling lunkhead, but I can see now how deceiving looks can-"

The man, blood boiling, wasted no time hauling him to his feet by the scruff of his cloak, which got more than a startled grunt out of him - especially since the hood dropped heavily to his back, letting them see his face in all its misaligned glory.

"Hey - innit he the guy on the posters they put up all over every town from here to the border?" The lanky friend to the right of the heavyset man muttered.

"Well, I figure you're right!" The one on the left grinned, crookedly.

"Ohh, friend. You oughta not have come here." The lunkhead's fury turned to what could only be described as a dark and manic glee. "See, sounds like you've run yourself afoul of the powers-that-be. Manny read the list off to me. Dereliction of duty, practicing of outlawed magics, treason-"

His own smile split wide, half-lidded eyes lighting up. "Aha, I was right. You are an illiterate hooch-guzzling lunkhead."

They didn't like that.

With a roar of various obscenities he didn't quite catch in the commotion, he found his body hurled through the air, slamming his head against what he suspected was a wooden table, which immediately made his vision swim for a split second. When his eyes realigned - one of the two lanky men had grabbed a chair, with the intent to bring it down on his already hurting skull.

"Oh, fuck this-!" Gritting his teeth,he'd pulled out his weapon of choice with alarming speed - a branch of elm, with a curved grip that fit right in his hand. He pointed it at the chair the man raised high. "You asked for it-!"

He grit his teeth as he could feel the magic respond. He felt a heat on the right of his face, his tattoo glowed, his eye, he knew, followed suit, and his hair, those white streaks, lit up with a bright firey red as a blast erupted from his wand, catching the chair, as the smell of smoke suddenly hung in the air.  What shortly followed was a scream and a sizzling of something burning - what soon became obvious, as the man dropped the now burning wooden chair with a cry, his hands red as the spell-slinging man’s hair in an instant. He rolled out of the way out of the burning chair, managing to spring to his feet against the two remaining assailants as the man impulsively ran for the door - probably to dunk his hands in the horses water trough.

"Alright, you assholes. I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm sober, and you're in the way of me fixing all three. So I'm only gonna give you one chance-"

The big lug and his remaining skinny friend bellowed and charged him, apparently more inspired by his display of magic affinity. Great. They never did let him finish.

Pointing his wand at the skinny friend, he felt the mark on his face tingle, the telltale sign of a gold-and-blue flash running from his tattoo to his eye and hair as a bolt of lightning cracked straight out from the wand and into the skinny man, who promptly lost control of his legs. Getting out of the way of the collision course was easy enough after that, though he had to admit he wasn't expecting the man to knock himself out charging straight into a wall.

"You curse-conjuring bastard!" Fuck, that's right, the big guy. He swung a haymaker that he just barely kept from knocking his chin out-of-place, gritting his teeth as he was backed into the corner, he didn't really want to have to resort to raw magic, but the fellow wasn't exactly giving him any other options.

The next time the man wound up for a punch that would have permanently crooked his nose, the wand was pointed at his midsection. Another flash - not a tingle like the electric energy, not the heat of the burn, but the feeling of energy, of arcane might without form or purpose coursing through him as his shot hit the man with enough force to knock him on his hindquarters, clearly in pain from the single shot alone. Lucky him.

Panting and rubbing at his cheek, he walked forward, leaning down to the man in pain, who looked up with him with an all-to-familiar mix of hatred and fear. "I'll get you for this, I swear I fuckin’ will, you think you can just-"

"What I think I can do," he said, his eyes cold and piercing, forcing the man who'd caused him so much trouble to look into his mismatched eyes. "is give you chicken feet and leave you stranded in the closest monster-inhabited cave if you try to mess with me again."

The man's color drained from his face real quick, scrambling back away from him as he bolted for the door, clearing out what was left of the inn's lower floor.

Exhausted, he staggered over to the counter, leaning on it. "Miss," He said, speaking to the woman attending the counter he had spoken to when he first entered, who was now cowering under said counter. He couldn't exactly blame her. "Look, I'm sorry about that. I can't really pay for the chair I lit on fire, not really. In fact, I was hoping that over a hot meal I could ask your proprietor or proprietress about any work that could be done around here for coin-"

"And why exactly would I be doing any business with a wanted fugitive?" He heard a telltale click, whirling around, hands in the air, as he stared down the business end of - shit on him, a crossbow? And one that looked like it was meant to hunt things much hardier than him.

The woman holding the deadly armament was looking him dead in the eye now - a little older than him, but probably a rugged huntress in her prime. A frown on her face.

"Ma'am, I know I caused a bit of trouble for you, but I promise you-"

"You realize that was my cousin Manuel that you just gave blistered fingers for a week? What do you gotta say to that?"

"Manuel... he was the one of the trio that could read, right?" As usual, his mouth lept before the rest of his brain had detangled the best way to talk himself out of his own mess.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I guess I'd say then that your cousin is a fool, and an asshole besides." Shit, goddammit, Willow. You stupid motherfucker. You're about to get shot.

There was a pause. The woman lowered her crossbow, laughing.

"You're damn right, too. I've told that idiot that Wilson's a moron who's only gonna get him into trouble, and the idiot gets suckered into a tavern brawl with a damn Runewright! I hope his blisters burst."

His hands lowered as quickly as his brow raised. The fact that this tavern owner knew exactly what he was-

"Oh, don't give me that look." And she could read him like a damn book. "At least not until we get you your meal and drink. After that, you can tell me why exactly the Runewright and fugitive Joshua 'Quicksilver' Willow is in my tavern."

---

His clothes were finally on the dryer side by the time he got to sit down with meal and a refreshingly cold ale, sitting in the cozy chair that had gotten him into so much trouble (he earned it, dammit). The tavern's owner sat across from him, enjoying a similar meal as she shot him looks that he'd be worried were rife with mocking mirth if she hadn't, y'know, avoided shooting him.

"You weren't gonna really turn Wilson into a chicken, right?" She broached, choosing her words with care.

"What do I look like, a witch?" He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk crawling across his face now that he could at least answer his belly's growling . "No, that was just to make him piss his britches and think twice about coming back with a mob overnight."

She responded to the smirk with a chuckle of her own. "Thought so. Never heard of a Runewright who could give a person chicken legs."

There it was, the fact she knew that word. The right word for what he was. He couldn't stop himself from looking at her, scanning her for some sort of tell.

"You're wondering how I knew you were a Runewright." She said, putting down her mug.

"I'm wondering that you knew of Runewrights at all. The tattoo's a bit of a dead giveaway." He responded.

"We had cause to head to the city and hire one up when I was a bit younger. He had to have been around your age when we first met him. Johnny Montgomery he was calling himself, then."

The name triggered a twinge of remembrance, as a barking laugh escaped his throat. "Shit on me, you knew old man Monte the Ward?" He leaned forward, posture hunched. "Old-fashioned grumpy-ass stickler for rules. I would have never expected him to go by 'Johnny'."

"By the tone of your voice it sounds like he was your idol." She had to hold back her own laughter - instead committing to a weirdly dainty sort of snicker that he found kind of charming on a woman who could twist his arm behind his back.

"Mentor, actually. Insomuch as any of us Runewrights have or listen to them." A sigh escaped his lips,looking down at the plate. "We aren't exactly known for being bookworms, despite the arcane pedigree."

"So I noticed."

"Still, Monte the Ward taught me and a few others everything we knew about the craft. Jinxing Jacobs, Hector the Hex, Ash-Wood Annabelle..."

"And what happened to them?" Ah, the thrust of her point, laid bare for both of them to see - her eyes clearly showed some worry now. For him? Maybe not. But she had known ol' Monte.  "I mean, all we knew was the announcement from the Ruling Chambers that Runewrighting was now an offense and blight upon the land, yadda yadda, and that every last one of them were now fugitives at large."

He stared into his drink, and contemplated not answering. After all, what did he owe this woman? A hot meal and meager lodgings, maybe, but nothing so much as a damned story by the fire. But, after a preparatory swig - one that took much longer than any sane person would like, and left the cup as dry-bone as could be, he felt the words bubbling to the surface easily enough.

"Your guess is as good as mine. S'not like we were told exactly the reason now we were being hunted for 'crimes against the Ruling Chambers'. Sure, it's a damn dangerous art, but we knew the risks when we signed up. Hells, the announcement didn't come until after we'd broke loose of our own quarters - morning raid by the capital's City Guard."

Her eyes went wide at that. "You're shitting me."

"Dead serious." And his face was set in a misaligned scowl as serious as he could muster. "We had all of about 3 minutes forewarning, and I'd never seen ol' Monte so inflamed. It was his idea, what happened. He'll hold them off, the rest of us - the whole lot, the entire Runewrighting society, or whatever the hells you want to call it - scatter to the four winds. No contact, no meetups, nothing. Fly solo, and don't get involved in each other's business. If they hunt down one of us, they can't get to the rest of us."

"Hells below." It was her turn to stare into her cup.

"Yeah. So that was the last time I saw Jinxing Jacobs or Monte or Annabelle or any of the other probably dozen-plus others. I mean, I used to see them on wanted posters and the like - the ones you guys see of me. But that was a year ago. I haven't seen any but my own in the past... six? Months? Maybe they got out of the damn country, like I'm trying to do. But it's just as likely I'm the only Runewright still out there not under lock and key."

"Well, damn, Willow. I'm sorry."

"Ugh, don't be.” He refused to meet her gaze. ”Last thing I need is some innkeep in a town this side of the river wasting her compassion on a wreck like me." He waved a chicken drumstick in her face, chomping down on it with reckless abandon.

"If you insist." Her lips pursed closed as she thought. "...Tell you what. You're lookin' for work? I know a field nearby needs cleared of some spirit or whatever it haunting it overnight, and there's probably a cave or two that could use you lookin' at it."

"What's the catch?"

"Catch one is I'm takin' that wooden chair my idiot cousin tried to hit you with out of your pay."

"Understandable." He grimaced, but it's not like she didn't have a point.

"Second catch is I need you out of this town by sundown tomorrow evening. I'm not gonna risk another altercation with Wilson, and he'll be back here by sundown as sure as I am that you'll be gone. And I won't pay you if there's anything left undone when it's time for you to get gone."

"Two caves, a haunted field, and a 24-hour time limit? Hah. You're being almost generous." His smirk finally bloomed into a grin, a bit of cocksure feeling finally getting back into his step.

"Don't make me grab my crossbow off the mantle again, Quicksilver. Do a good job and I might even throw in a map to the border for you. It ain't far south of here." She returned that cocky smirk back wholesale, and it was all Willow could do to laugh.

"Deal."

It was a job, and he was nothing if not a professional. At least, that's what he had to tell himself on the days that it all worked out.

Gods, he needed out of this goddamn country. It was going to the dogs.