#Smiles Everyone Smiles | {Dash Commentary}

[siixkiing]

"I'm gonna boop the snoots~"

[keenie-bopper]

Keenie giggles at the Kings' charm. "What a handy little mirror!"

[bloodylariat]

The only short muses on this blog

In order: 5' 6", 5' 3", and 5' 2"

[statiicstag]

[ tag dump ]

[prim3dsins]

" Stop! "

[kingsmedley]

"Well now he's just lying."

[fallenzangel]

“The reactions are precious though.”

[badaboomx]

Cause dancing's what I love (Bada Lee x Reader)

PAIRING: Bada Lee x Fem!Reader SETTING: Street Woman Fighter 2 AU, Reader belongs to a made-up crew. Reader challenges Bada to a battle, but with a twist. WORDS: 1.4k

ⓘ Diping my toes into writing fanfic again after a bit. I hope you enjoy it.

Gosh, this competition was TOO serious for your taste.

Battle after battle, you saw serious emotions and tension never ending. Old feuds surfaced and bubbled when people picked their opponents. Only one or two crews were actually having fun and having a gas, taking it as seriously as it should be taken, but even your own crew was caught up in the emotions of having been harshly (some say unjustly) critiqued by people who just didn’t get it. You guys won one, lost one, and now it was up to you to take the floor and challenge someone to a battle to stand your ground and show what you’re made of.

But when that mic landed in your hands you thought to shake things up a bit. Your feet moved almost by themselves and you got up on someone’s space. Someone that caught your attention.

The tall and elusive Bada Lee, the leader of Bebe, who had danced against Redy and wowed everyone with her cool swagger. But let’s back it up, why did you pick her?

Well, because when you walked in with your crew, she seemed to be… quietly surprised. If not quietly intimidated, perhaps with a dash of intrigue that she tried to hide well. The reaction of the dancers to you and your crew were mixed with respect and straight up disrespect on the hand of some of the rookies, but you dusted your shoulders and carried on.

However, from Bebe, some of the girls have made comments about you and your crew not being all that memorable, becoming noise in the background or something. Because you liked to kick stuff up, you walked up to their cubicle just as you heard that and looked around to find the girls who said it. Yet, your eyes landed on Bada who you could swear gulped as you approached, but didn’t move her gaze away. It intrigued you, like she was ready to face up to you even if you were quite a formidable foe on the dance floor. The girls who made those comments in question stared back with a quiet rage, and you were determined then to make an impression.

Most importantly, you were interested in getting that Bada to react.

“Dance with me, Bada,” you said to the mic clear and concise and the people cheered for this unexpected face-off.

Bada adjusted her cap and stood up, towering over you and putting that cool ‘idgaf’ face on as she walked over the stage.

Unfamiliar music blared from the speakers and you know it was her turn. The music overshadowed every cheer and every commentary, the world around you muffled as you observed your opponent. While she wasn’t predictable you knew and understood her style. She hit hard, her popping was unmatched and she stared at you right in the face. But something was different. While everyone else called each other out and taunted each other, Bada seemed to do more than just taunt. It was a tacit response to what you said earlier, and you understood the message.

“You wanna dance? Then let’s dance.”

She hit with precision, varied from smooth to rough, and made all those forty seconds count to her favor. The song was over and slowly transitioned to your picked song, the crowd around you cheering and your crew hyping you up to take that stage and tear it up.

The song choice was something your teammates didn’t expect, but knew what was coming after hearing just the first few notes. You were known for smooth and cool dancing, usually backed by a hip-hop track – or just plain energy backed by lively music that could make anyone smile. But you weren’t new to dancing to ‘I’m a Slave 4 U.’

Bada stood there a bit confused for a second, you could tell, her body instinctively moving to the beat like she was born to do so, but you were looking to break that cool facade of hers, to make her stumble and stutter.

So you came out of the gate swinging, embodying that slow and smooth swagger you were known for, but that dash of sensuality and that eye contact you held told everyone one thing. This wasn’t a battle for you, the way you smirked and smiled made it clear. Blending in the background and drama my ass, you were there to connect to your opponent, to get a personal victory even if you didn’t win the battle. You were about to make this fun for everyone watching.

You made sure to show off your moves, to show your versatility, using the space of the battle zone to your advantage and even facing the judges for the first few moments, and Bada could only predict one or two moves and remained cool, vibing.

But then you approached, got really close to her. Your hands on her shoulders, looking into the shadows casted by her cap, and glancing into those eyes who were fixed onto yours. You could read them in that split second, they were surprised, her body had tensed up at your touch for a second – unfamiliar. But she welcomed it just like a challenge.

‘Baby, don’t you wanna Dance above me.’

Your hands slid down her shoulders, trailing down her body as you both swayed to the rhythm, watching her lips twitch into a smile that she couldn’t contain, her arms raising and her hands landing on her head as if by instinct. Your hand grabbed a fistful of her shirt and pulled her closer, but it was not like she was pulling away either. You let go of her only to turn around and really lean against her, swaying your hips to the beat and matching. Just as you were wondering if you were breaking a rule, if you were pushing it, you felt that subtle presence of her hand on your hips, her body grinding against yours for a brief moment – like she was caught up in the moment, acting on impulse. It felt good, warm and safe, like the battle was no longer important. When you came to, you had grabbed her hand and intertwined fingers briefly before pulling away, noticing the various reactions from people all around you and even your crew who was absolutely flabbergasted, but when you turned to face Bada and finish off your set you couldn’t help but to notice the redness in her face and that slightly nervous exhalation, coupled with a smile she couldn’t shake.

Oh, she liked it, a lot. Just like you liked it a lot. And while she wasn’t visibly shaken, she was definitely taken aback.

The song was over, the announcer made sure you both heard that since it seemed like the battle had gotten way out of hand.

You both stood awaiting judgment but you knew exactly the verdict you were going to get. You didn’t really ‘battle’ as the others had, and Bada absolutely did more to showcase a true fighting spirit. You? You were just there to make the tall woman flustered, to give a strong memorable impression on people. You were doing it for fun, because you could. Confident and accomplished, you stood there without moving an inch but with a soft smile fixed on your lips; Bada on the other hand stood swaying, hands clasped together behind her, her eyes searching you every now and then but unable to stay looking at you, and not daring to not look at the judges as they thought out their votes.

Right as rain, Bada won the battle and the comments were as you expected it. Not feeling like you had to explain yourself, you merely bowed and looked forward to the next opportunity.

But when Bada turned to see you, the poor thing looked like she wanted to say something to you. However, the show had to keep going and she had to return to her cubicle to attach her second win for the night.

You didn’t mind, because once you were at your crew’s hideout, winding down from a long day of battles, a note slipped from under the door in the middle of all of you chatting your heads off about today’s event.

When you picked it up and read it, you couldn’t help your own smile.

‘Let’s do it again?’

And you didn’t need to know who signed it.

Part II here

[dreamsinarcadia]

Mistletoe

In which Heungmin and his best friend find themselves under the mistletoe over the years (and he’s pretty much to blame for it)

pairing: sonny x bestfriend!reader

warning: fluff fluff fluff

Part 2 ➡️

8 years old

“Heungmin,” she ground out with barely concealed annoyance. “Give it back.”

The wishlist that had been oh so carefully curated was currently in the grubby hands of the bane of her existence - the neighborhood’s spawn of satan himself, Son Heungmin.

Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. But she was certain that the boy had made it his life’s purpose to grate her nerves from the moment they had met.

“I think the address is wrong,” he muttered, scanning the paper with narrowed eyes. “Doesn’t Santa live in the South Pole?”

“It’s the North Pole!” she snapped, reaching forward to try and snatch it from his grasp. The entirety of her morning had been spent scribbling furiously in the garden, ignoring her father’s witty comment about smoke practically pouring from her ears. There was no room for error - she would be competing with countless other children for a place in Santa’s list! This had to be perfect.

Of course, perfection was hard to achieve with Heungmin looming over like a storm cloud waiting to unleash a torrential downpour on her. Not to mention his cheeky smile almost sent her over the edge. Clearly he’d accomplished his task of annoying her for the day.

Ambling forward as smoothly as he could (a difficult task when wrapped in dozens of layers upon the insistence of his mother), he plopped down beside her and peered down at the list again.

“A book?” he balked. “Of all the things you could ask for, a book?” He’d grown to hate her newfound hobby of reading books. Ever since the new library had opened in their town, she’d been holed up between shelves of pristine books for hours on end. Heungmin wasn’t exactly fond of the new-found silence he'd become accustomed to; he always looked forward to her sarcastic commentary that always accompanied weekend night football. He missed having someone to stand in the unforgiving winter cold, clad in goalkeeper gloves (her mother’s oven mitts), and endure goal after goal as he practiced his penalty kicks and headers.

“Give it back!”

"No, I don’t think I will," he sang merrily, legs carrying him out of the porch and into the warmth of her home, dashing down the hallway up the staircase, narrowly missing a near collision with the family cat sprawled on one of the steps. He was much faster than she was and he knew it. He was faster than everyone in their grade, his height granting him an entirely unfair advantage over their peers.

"Heungmin, I’m telling your mother!" She warned as he skidded to a halt on the landing, arm practically stretched up to the heavens with her letter to Santa firmly grasped in his hand. With his other hand, he begun to rummage around in his pocket for something.

“Just give it back,” she whined pitifully, realising that her previous threats just fell on deaf ears. From beside him, she tried in vain to jump up and grab the letter from between his stupid fingers.

Grinning widely, Heungmin quickly pulled the letter away from her to hide it behind his back and replaced it with whatever he had managed to finally find in his pocket. “For the price of one kiss, you can have it back,” he offered with a cheeky smile, bringing a basil sprig between their heads.

She looked up at it, physically unable to hold back the eye roll. She’d seen plenty of adults on television sharing an intimate moment below a certain type of greenery during the holiday season. While it was a lovely tradition, it required a specific kind of a leathery-leaved plant. “That’s not even mistletoe.”

“You try finding mistletoe in Chuncheon,” he said with a shrug. “I had to make do with the next best thing.”

“Oh great, so you attacked my mother’s pot of basil leaves?”

“… please don’t tell her.”

Her brows arched in a look of defiance. “Try me.”

He wiggled the basil leaves. “Then say goodbye to your precious letter to Santa.”

Taking a step back, she cocked her head and peered up at the makeshift mistletoe in a moment of contemplation. Her options were limited, true, but it was hardly the end of the world. Just the thought of redoing the list brought her a bigger headache than Heungmin could ever induce.

And so, with tiny hands balled into fists, she took a decisive step forward and stood on her tiptoes to level their gaze.

Heungmin tried his best to mask his excitement, he really did, but nothing could have stopped the immediate bolt of lightning that struck his very being and coloured his cheeks and ears an adorable shade of pink when she yanked him forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

Taking advantage of his moment of disbelief, she reached behind him to snatch the letter from his grasp, call him an idiot and dash down the stairs with a speed that rivalled his own.

Heungmin, watching her disappear around the corner with a dopey little smile on his face, pressed the basil sprig close to his chest.

Christmas was fun.

•

Christmas fics in January? Why not? Truly a product of my own laziness. Part 2 awaits you 🥹

[annab-nana]

okay so I suck at making requests but want to support you the most I can so here I am hihi. can you write something with “hi. i am here to be your nurse.” please? maybe with robin buckley? but you can choose anyone you want ☺️ I love you hihi <3

omg of course and we are 100% doing this with robin! i love her and get so little requests for her so i was soooooo excited to see this one! i love you too sweetheart <333

warnings: not proofread, rambly nervous robin, wound cleaning, set in s4, a little bit of a longer blurb

❀ masterlist ❀

once the lot of you had dashed over to max's after leaving the upside down, everyone took a collective breather. steve, robin, and max were checking in on nancy and dustin was further explaining his plan to eddie, lucas and erica adding in their own aiding commentary. you took the opportunity to slip off to the bathroom.

even though every single one of them was a friend to you, you just couldn't truly relax and think with so many people around you. you also had bigger issues on your hands.

"shit," you hissed when you slowly and carefully pulled your pants down to reveal the damage the demobats—dustin's term, not yours—did to your thighs. they did a number on both, but your left truly took a worse hit than your right. "no more shorts for me for a while i guess."

glancing around to see what you could use to help your wounds, your eyes landed on the sink before you reached to turn the faucet on. first, you needed to get this clean. there was no telling what those things had and could've transferred over to you.

a knock pulled you from your focus.

"hey, it's robin," the girl announced. "max gave me some supplies to help you and steve clean up."

"is steve out there too?" you were comfortable with robin seeing you without pants on and steve wouldn't have been so bad. you would rather it be robin alone though.

"it's just me."

you let out a small sigh in relief. "okay, you can come in."

she opened the door only a sliver before sliding in. when her eyes met yours, she showed her famous slightly awkward grin. "hi. i am here to be your nurse."

the girl always knew how to put a smile on your face even in the worst of times.

"where do you want me, dr. b?"

she sat the stuff max had given her down on the counter and patted the empty space next to it. "right here will be fine." she then squatted down to open some cabinets, pulling out a large first aid kit that looked very well used. "we hit the jackpot coming to the mayfield's. max's mom has always been super paranoid of a skating injury so we've lucked out."

"i don't know if i consider myself lucky given the events," you mentioned, glancing down at your legs. "but, i do appreciate the positivity."

once she got set up, robin started gently pressing the wet rag to your wounds. your hands gripped harshly at the counter's edge while she whispered gentle i'm sorry's and i'll be done soon's.

she kept her head down, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you couldn't help but watch her. she stuck her tongue out ever so slightly in the most adorable way. her hands were so delicate as they touched you. her soft reassurances filled your heart with warmth and love.

"i really appreciate you doing this by the way." her eyes glanced up to meet yours before looking back down at her work.

"ye-yeah, no problem," she spoke quickly. "what are friends for?"

"oh, you've wounded me, rob," you teased, but it appeared with the way that her face dropped that she misunderstood.

"oh my g- i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to. i'll try to press more gently. i'm sorr-"

"robin, not with that."

"with what then?" sometimes, the girl could be so oblivious.

"what are friends for?" you repeated her words back to her. "i thought we were a little more than that."

"well, you're not just a friend to me. you're like my best friend. like my best best friend. more than steve even, but don't tell him i said that because he would be crushed and i can't deal with him being all down. it's so sad and he gets all mopey and clingy, but not saying that i wouldn't ever be there for him. it's just i-"

you cut her off with a call of her name, her eyes snapping to yours instead of bouncing all over the place as she rambled. "robin."

"yeah?"

"can i kiss you?"

her eyes practically bulged out of her head before she fully processed what you said and nodded in agreement. with a surge forward, your lips were on hers, relishing in the feeling they had wanted for so long. the circumstances weren't the greatest and it was highly likely that neither of you would make it out of this whole vecna thing alive. maybe that's what added to your urgency to kiss her, the fear that you would never be able to.

when you pulled away, robin attempted to fight off her growing grin while you relished in yours.

"i have to admit, i like your bedside manner, buckley."

"let's get you cleaned up and maybe we can do some more of that, yeah?"

"sounds wonderful, dr. b."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tagging: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Thank you so much @callivich for taking the time and effort for coming up with these questions, and thank you @such-a-barbarian for tagging me also!

This got long lol

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once? 

one of my favorite generas of fic is shameless Mickey worship and for that I aways come back to from head to toe and the many things Mickey Milkovich has been called, Unforgiving Touches and the Feeling of Their Bruises. 

also, in no particular order You’re Tough To Love When You Don’t Love Yourself, the broad shouldered beasts series, sincerity is scary.

for something a little smutty go back to sleep has always been a favorite of mine

and as always, my favorite fic of all time Boy In The Box

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog? 

i love that gif set of Ian sniffin’ on his husband, also I think there’s one thats a compilation of Mickey’s best smiles through the series, gorgeous.

this beautifully edited (?) gifset I stg this is better quality than the actual show idk how they did that

this gorgeous art/gifset is awesome also!

this one is very important to me but man it hurts

another heartbreaker

everyone say thank you gif makers!!!!

What’s a fanart you love looking at?

I literally just saw this one for the first time, it immediately went to the top of my list!!

Its so beautifully done and captures the tone of the original piece so well while also transforming it into a unique moment and commentary on intimacy in their own relationship, ugh, gorgeous 

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about?

creative mickey! the best thing season 10 gave us was mickey and his notebook. i just know when Ian sees that thing come out post canon a part of him locks up in genuine fear

i don’t really think he gets into art persay, but just being a creative thinker, figuring out how to run their business, decorating their apartment, building ian a garden on their balcony when he gets put on the waitlist for the community garden

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration?

so I had this idea very vaguely floating around in my head for a while, but it wasn’t even remotely formed, let alone developed and then suddenly last weekend the plot just came to me in that beautiful and cruel way inspiration comes and goes, but it will take forever to write because I want the pace to feel very slow and syrupy and a little dream (or nightmare) like.

i dont want to give away the plot but its very southern gothic, slight true crime elements, cults, slight age difference (younger Mickey)… anyways if anyone from the rural south wants to be on call to explain geography and culture to me, hit me up 

i also have an idea for a dirty filthy, nasty smut fic but i would have to post it anonymously i wouldnt be able to look anyone in the (virtual) eyes

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else?

in all seriousness, analyzing Shameless as a show overall is so interesting, understanding each of the characters as case studies in different particular expressions of being raised in poverty, which is what makes it twice as upsetting when someone is like, ‘why would this character do this, thats so stupid’ and the answer is that statically speaking that character was actually very likely to do that because of the circumstances they were born into and the way they’ve been affected by that throughout their life, but okay. I also noticed that a lot of people on here are not from America and I always wonder what their take on the social/political reading of the show, if it feels familiar at all etc.. 

i also remember the first time someone commented under my fic to be like, ‘why are you giving Mickey a pass Ian did this’, and someone else commented underneath that ‘oh well Mickey did that so he’s a bad person etc.’ and it was just so upsetting to me, I dont see a lot of that on my dash but I just personally believe that if you are judging teenagers/young adults who are in the middle of their first major mental health crisis or who have suffered unimaginable abuse and neglect their entire life, you need to recalibrate your empathy levels 

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show?

I love love early seasons (1-3) there is just something so nostalgic about it and as a show that’s when the writing was at its most creative and interestingly paced

also who doesn’t love baby gallavich?

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship? 

Ugh Im so sorry I am going to have to add all the lyrics to In Your Love by Tyler Childers, the inspiration for my first fic title because it is the most perfect song to encapsulate the passion between them and the work and sacrifices they put up for each other

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved?

where is mandy? where the fuck is my girl?

also the fact that kevin had a son with v’s mom and just, has no interest in a relationship with him? like that made the story easier for sure but it doesn’t make sense with his character

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough?

guys, there is not a scene in this show that we have not done to death already (affectionate)

and you know what? we’ll do it again!

but just for the sake of it, the “would you take care of me if i was paralyzed” scene, you can see that Mickey is almost idk, hesitant? but that’s because he’s really picturing it and that his yes is genuine and thought out, and ian’s face of wonder when he realizes that he has someone who loves him unconditionally and forever? earth shattering

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale?

listen, i think the laws of television writers being assholes would dictate that they would give a break up (and maybe reconciliation) arc which is my least favorite television trope

but irl? (u know what i mean) i think they do have some hard, stressful times both out of their relationships and in it and realize pretty quickly that they have to work as a team and lean on each other and it only makes them closer

i also think that they simply refuse to sleep without each other, like one night when Ian gets stuck at the gallagher house taking care of sick franny mickey will drive over and sleep in the twin bed with him or if mickey gets wasted on a night out with sandy and debbie and his battery runs out he’ll stumble his ass home instead of going with one of them when they offer even if it takes forever

and ian grows his hair and stubble out to look like it does in the most recent photos (fluffy mullet) and mickey adores it he can’t keep his hands off his husbands head it’s a sensory dream

Thanks again for tagging me!

i’ll tag @stocious @mybrainismelted @sirrudo @solitarycreaturesthey @juliakayyy @jrooc @jezzibelle89 @i-think-you-mean-reduction @iansw0rld

[siixkiing]

"You can boop the kitty cat?!"

[randoimago]

Day 25 - Stuck in the Rain

Fandom: Critical Role

Character(s): Dorian Storm

Type of Request: 31 Days of Oc-Trope-R

Note(s): Remember how when Dorian was first introduced there was a lot of people asking, "Oh is he a water genasi cause he's blue?" I had to incorporate that into this for funsies.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Came the whining exclamation from one Dorian Storm as, per his chosen namesake, it started to rain. The Crown Keepers are in between cities, and it's been cloudy for a while. He had hoped you'd all make it to the next place before it did start raining, but of course as soon as he had hope it would be dashed.

"Aren't you a genasi? I thought you liked rain?" Dorian can't help a scoff from Dariax's question. It is an innocent one so he's not mad, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it.

"I'm an air genasi not water."

"But you're blue?"

"And what color would I be if I was air? Translucent?!"

Before the boys could get into another discussion with jabs at each other, Fy'ra let out a sigh which immediately shut the boys up and caused some giggling among the others. Hearing the sound of your amusement made Dorian feel better about the situation, until he realized that the rain wouldn't let up anytime soon.

"Well, we should probably find somewhere to hide out for the night if it's going to keep raining like this," you say, and the others agree. "I'll go look."

"I'll go too!" Dorian was quick to pipe up, and he ignored the knowing looks he got form Fy'ra and Opal as well as the thumbs up Dariax tried to give him secretly, but you obviously saw. "It'd uh, just be safer with two people," he said as an excuse, but you easily gave him a smile and agreed to let him come.

And now the both of you are walking around, using your cloaks as badly made umbrellas while you attempt to find a place for everyone to stay for the night.

There's some talking between you two, some more of Dorian complaining about his hair or the makeup he had put on. But besides that, it was peaceful. Maybe a bit awkward on Dorian's part because he had a thousand things he wanted to say to you but didn't know what words to use.

"Think the rain will last long?" He asks and makes a bit of a face because is that really the best conversation starter he had? You don't seem to be bothered by his question though as you both keep walking.

"Hopefully not. Too bad none of us have a 'rain rain go away' spell," you comment, giving a bit of a joke to lighten the mood. He did chuckle at your words, appreciating the light commentary.

"I don't know, maybe we can convince Dariax that if he dances then the rain will vanish." You both laughed at that idea, knowing that you might be able to manage that, but also knowing you wouldn't want to deal with the pouting Dariax would give when it doesn't work.

Eventually, you both stumble upon a cave. It's a good place for everyone to lay low and rest until the rain stops. Dorian sends out a quick Sending spell while you do your best to make a fire to dry off. Dorian notices that you seem a bit cold, so he takes a deep breath and shuffles to sit a tad closer to you.

"Cold?" He asks and he knows the answer is obvious, but he's read enough cheesy romance books. He thinks he knows the right moves to do.

"A bit," you respond and give him a small smile. Dorian takes another deep breath. This is his moment to shine.

"We could cuddle? For body warmth," he suggests, and you stare at him a bit, probably processing his suggestion. And the longer you look at him, the more nervous he gets because that was such a stupid pick-up line, why would he say it? But then you shrug and move close enough to have your shoulder next to his and your thighs touching as you sit. And Dorian has no idea what to do next because he didn't think he'd get this far.

"Thanks for coming with me," you tell him, and his brain has to think a bit to realize what you're saying before he remembers how he volunteered to look for shelter with you.

"Well, I couldn't have you go alone. If you're going to split the party, might as well make it even," he says even though it really wasn't an even split up. But math doesn't matter when you have a massive crush on someone.

"I still appreciate it." You lean your head on his shoulder, and he tenses a bit before relaxing and resting his head on yours.

The rain continues to pour outside while the cave is lit by the warm fire that's in front of the two of you. It's a peaceful moment and makes his heart feel light.

[kageofthehiddenmist]

Dash Commentary

[ic][open?][drabble?] We just don't know. See tags for instructions.

"Ara ara ♥... what a catch," Mizukage Terumi Mei said.

The double doors of her office banged against the walls, as two jounin from Border Control dragged in a limp body. They tossed it in front of her ancient desk. The body slid, then came to a halt in the center of the office.

The Mizukage's assistant, Ao, sorted through a stack of reports and didn't intend to get involved. Mei paid him a glance, then she stood up.

"I will have a look at what prize you boys dragged in," she said. She rounded her desk. "Where did you catch the little rat?"

"Cargo ship to Konoha, ma'am. He was among the vermin."

The lady Mizukage put her shoe against the captive's shoulder, and flipped him onto his back. Once the cloak slid down, she saw his hair was like straw. And he wore a red scarf, and white armour. The ANBU mask was as tattletale as his scarf.

She squatted down. "And the mask?"

"It's still Tobirama Senju-grade, ma'am. Careful. Can't remove it without blowing up the head and setting everything ablaze."

She knew that. Her red nail ticked against the mask. Tick, tick, tick. "What are you?"

"An ANBU from Konoha, ma'am," said the officer on the left, and the officer on the right quickly filled in: "A sparrow, ma'am."

"Sparrow, mm?"

The captive remained unconscious as she ran her finger down over the beak. She said thoughtfully:

"Konoha ANBU are prideful, they often employ members of the high clans. Straw hair.... so there's a heightened chance this one is a Senju or Yamanaka or Akamichi.

"Sparrows are flighty birds. This foreign combatant isn't a tank or DPS, not even an assist. He's most likely a scout or information-gatherer that does medium-distance communication with spies. His clothes are dirty, his pouches are empty, which means he was on his way out..." So there's even more information leaks.

Then she stood up with a smile and a hand confidently on her hip. "Would you care to help a lady out?" The question was an order in disguise and everyone knew that. "Take him down below, give him to the DM. The dungeon master will know to strip-search him and put him in chakra mittens. Thank you. Good work."

Once they were out, they closed the double door.

Mei went to the double doors, opened them, and she turned to Ao.

"Ao? Send in Yapper from International Relations. She and I will write up a message to Hell's Capitol to let the devils know we caught one of their spawn."

"Birds of a feather, flock together. Do you think Oriole is involved?" he asked.

"I'm keeping that option open," she said grimly. "Does Konoha currently keep any of our people prisoner?"

"No, as far as we know the kill-before-capture strategy has been flawless." Ao answered.

"Good, we have four of theirs now. With the Sparrow, this makes five. Five is a good number. Let's see if I can finally get a high-ranking devil at my dinner table~"

"Do you want to invite the Hokage?"

She shook her head. "No. That is too high-profile. I want someone who I can bargain with. Someone who can go home as a changed man."

Ao offered: "You can consider Commander Shimura of Administration, or Commander Hatake of ANBU, or Commander Morino, Jiraiya of the Sannin, or perhaps a clan leader?"

"Shimura is unmarried, right?"

"Our spies suspect he has regular meetings with the Senju princess who broke Lord Second's hand."

The Lady Mizukage cursed like a sailor under her breath, and then she smiled.

"Let's see who will show up, shan't we? If they leave Sparrow behind, we can do to him whatever we want. I suggest we turn him into a breeding stallion, and then in twelve years, we give Konoha a taste of their own bloodline limit."

Ao rarely heard her speak with such a scary happy voice. He did knot like that. She was quite intimidating. "Ma'am, you're raising your voice too high. It's inappropri-"

She smiled. Then she closed the open doors. On a lower voice, she said: "This time, I wanted the spies to overhear. They'll get antsy, and move, and make mistakes."

Ao was quiet.

She said: "Be a dear and send the ANBU Commander after we're done talking. I want the ANBU to cross-comb the city so find out whom exactly Sparrow talked to. And if any civilian or bureaucrat dares to suddenly go on an 'emergency holiday', we will set our Hunter-nins on them. We have five prisoners now. Let's up those numbers. Ten. Fifteen. Fifty. I want this city as tidy as a geisha's hair. A single woman always cleans her house before an esteemed guest arrives."

She didn't hold Konoha in high regard. But she was a lady looking for marriage. And in the affairs of bachelor love, one can't predict their future audience!

[dalishious]

Running Commentary: The Masked Empire Ch 17 & Epilogue

TL;DR: Gaspard and Michel finally have their duel. Briala realizes Celene cannot be trusted, and takes control of the eluvians for herself, claiming them for the elves of Orlais.

—————

After the fight with the varterral, Michel and Gaspard prepare for their duel.

Briala asks Celene where she got her Lady Mantillon ring, the same one Gaspard possesses. Celene says it was given to her as a gift after her parents died, lying that the lady must have felt sorry for her. Briala pretends to believe this, and kisses Celene... when in actuality, she uses this kiss as a distraction to pick the magic ruby that unlocks the eluvians off of Celene's person. (But Celene isn't aware of this yet.)

Gaspard and Michel begin their duel, but Lienne and Mihris cheat using magic to hex Michel. Briala picks up on this, but when she tries to stop the fight, the two mages supporting Gaspard say that they can't hear her, #BecauseMagic. So Briala slits Lienne's throat, and then announces that she's figured out Mihris is possessed by Imshael. Imshael threatens to just kill everyone if he doesn't get what he wants, but is sated by Felassan's mental promises of something big to come.

“You know, you’ve got a good point,” Felassan said. “Fire and swords are dull. But what if something bigger was coming?” “I’m listening, Slow Arrow,” said the demon. “What could you possibly do that you and I have not seen a hundred times before while the sweaty mortals lusted and grappled and bled their lives away?” Felassan said nothing, just smiled, twisting the tattoos around his face. “Oh, my,” Imshael breathed. “Is that a promise?” “Well, I was going for more of a threat.” Imshael turned to Celene, who stared at him uncertainly. “Empress,” he said, “best of luck to you. I do believe you’re going to need it. Whatever happens, I believe that Orlais is going to be quite exciting for the next little while.” Then light flared around Mihris, and she fell to her knees, her staff flickering back to icy white. For a moment, a smoky shape flickered around Mihris, a haze that clung to her body, and then it was shooting across the room through one of the mirrors on the wall. The mirror flared brilliant red, then darkened back to the inert dullness of its dormant state, and the demon was gone.

(Felassan is, of course, thinking about Solas's world-ending plans.)

With that taken care of, Briala thinks about the last story Felassan told her of Fen'Harel. She interrupts the fight by calling out to Michel, saying she is enacting the debt he owes her, and orders him to yield. Michel does so, and also reveals to everyone else that his mother is an elf as he drops his sword.

Celene demands answers from Briala.

Celene spun at Briala, her daggers drawn. Briala stepped away, two steps carrying her out of range. She did not draw her own blades, but she was certainly looking at Celene now, and Celene cursed herself for a fool as she saw the anger in her lover’s eyes. “Why?” Celene gripped her blades so tightly that her fingers burned. “Tell me again how you will free my people.” “I gave you my word!” Celene stepped forward, a dagger raised. “I swore!” “And I think you even believed yourself.” Briala swallowed. “But when the nobles protested, when it threatened to weaken the empire, you would have let it go. You would have ignored your promises to me, knowing that I would always forgive. That I would always stand at your side.” Now her blades came out. “After all, I believed in you even after you killed my parents.”

Briala put together that Celene in actuality got her ring from Lady Mantillon after her first arrangement of death as part of the Game; namely, all the servants in her estate, including Briala's parents. And Briala herself, had she not successfully hidden from them, if you recall.

Celene jumps to attack Gaspard, and while everyone is focused on that, Briala dashes for the pedestal. Realizing this, Celene notices that she no longer as the keystone ruby, and that Briala took it from her in that last kiss. Celene tries to kill Briala, but is stopped by Mihris. Briala reaches the pedestal, and whispers a passphrase to secure her control of the eluvians. She announces, “I claim these eluvians for the elves of Orlais.”

Briala uses the eluvians to send Michel and Gaspard away. Celene tries one more time to say that she would have freed the elves, but Briala is done falling for that shit.

“I would have freed them, Bria.” Celene stood a few paces away. Mihris and Felassan leaned against the pedestals, not quite blocking Celene’s path to Briala. “So you say,” Briala said. “But freedom is not given. It is won.” “It is both.” Celene shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. She seemed so much smaller now than she had in Val Royeaux. “Have you seen nothing in all the years you spent at my side? Change comes through careful planning, through compromise.” “You compromised my parents.”

Briala then sends Celene to Halamshiral.

Mihris asks if Briala will share the passphrase to the eluvians with her, which Briala laughs off, but does promise that she will work with Dalish only if they help all elves. Mihris departs, leaving just Briala and Felassan.

“Are you sincere? You will use the paths of the eluvians to help your people?” Briala thought for a moment. “Celene and Gaspard saw an army, but that would be fighting their fight. With the paths, I could get food to alienages where elves would otherwise starve. They would let me move ahead of an oncoming army and warn the target, or move behind them and attack their supply lines.” “Which army are you going to hamstring?” Briala looked over at Felassan, smiling, even as she started to shiver from the winter’s chill. “Whichever one seems to be winning. What was it? Anaris and Andruil?” Felassan smiled. “You prolong their fight, and in the chaos, your people work free from their bonds?” “It can work, I think.” Briala held her arms around her. “Halamshiral rioted because of a single nobleman. I can find elves who will help me with my work in every city in Orlais, and more who are too afraid to fight, but will serve as eyes and ears if I can help their children survive the winter.” “That is,” Felassan said, and after a pause, finished, “a unique use of the ancient relics of our people, da’len.” “I think Fen’Harel would have approved,” Briala said, and saw Felassan give a startled laugh. “He might have,” her teacher said, “though I very much doubt it.” “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “The passphrase to access the eluvians. In case we’re separated, it’s—” She broke off as his fingers brushed her lips, looking at him in surprise. Felassan smiled again, but his eyes were sad, and wiser than Briala could ever imagine. “Don’t.” She looked at him silently for a moment, and then put it together. “You’re leaving.” “I must.” “The Dalish?” He snorted. “Them? Please.” Then his face turned serious. “But the elves of Orlais are in good hands, it seems. Many other things are not, and I have more work to do elsewhere.” She nodded, though her eyes stung. Begging him to stay would accomplish nothing, she knew. The protestations in the back of her mind—that she had more to learn, that she could not do this without him—she silenced before they gained a voice. The wisest man she had ever known trusted her to winher people’s freedom. And to her surprise, she found that she didn’t doubt his judgment. “One last question, then, hahren. Was this…” She gestured at the tunnels; then at the woods where, somewhere a few days’ journey away, Clan Virnehn lay dead; then to the north, where Halamshiral tilted toward the war that might set her people free. “Was this always your plan?” He chuckled one last time. “No, da’len. You did this yourself.” He leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead. His lips burned like a brand, and her head spun for a moment.

Felassan disappears, and Briala whispers the passphrase, “Fen’Harel enansal” (Dread Wolf's blessing) to seal off the tunnel.

Celene arrives in Halamshiral and begins preparations to engage in a civil war.

Gaspard and Michel are transported somewhere in the wilderness, and part ways, with Gaspard vowing to keep Michel's secret origins hidden.

Felassan contacts a mysterious person, who we know is Solas, in the Fade. He reports that he does not know the eluvian passphrase, and refuses to take it from Briala. So Solas kills him.

The Masked Empire is a wild read, because there's so much I can't stand about the story... and yet at the same time, it has some great characters in Briala and Felassan.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my commentary, and found it helpful if you've never had the opportunity to read the novel yourself.

[nine-blessed-hero]

Lines from... tag

I've been tagged by nearly everyone I know in this game, but as I have lots of lines to share, I'm going to do them all individually.

So thank you @bretongirlwrites for this one. All my lines here are from The Ruby Falls.

The rules are to share:

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

"I had… other concerns by then. Girls. Boys. O-Levels."

"Ah yes, the three genders,,," It's so simple, it's so silly, and it still makes me chuckle.

A line from your fic that makes you sad

Martin's face fell. His eyes flickered closed and he took a deep breath. "Please, Aderyn, don't be like this. I need your judgement, not your obedience. I merely want you to understand-" Aderyn slapped his hand aside. "I understand all too well." Tears stood in her eyes and she dashed them away, waving a finger in his face. "If you even so much as fucking think about getting hurt-" her throat constricted. "I swear to god- I'm gonna-" She dashed tears away. "I'll never-" Martin gathered her up in a hug, smoothing her hair down as she clung to him. "I know you will, my dearest problem child. I know."

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - Aderyn is nothing if not a scared child wearing the outfit of a loud, angry, brash woman. That she feels safe enough with Martin, just before the Battle of Bruma, to be even this vulnerable speaks volumes to their relationship. But this makes me sad, because she's so utterly, utterly terrified of losing him but she still can't quite get over that hurdle of just telling him that, and has to fall back on the "I'll never forgive you if you die" rhetoric.

A line from your fic you're proud of

[Belisarius] glanced down as she was plugging the seatbelt in. "You… bought a new laptop?" he asked, tilting his head. "Not exactly." Aderyn hunched down in the seat, bringing the bundle to her chest. Belisarius' shoulders went up. "You stole a new laptop." Aderyn shrank down further. "It's not what you-" she tried, but Belisarius reached over, brushing back part of the carrier bag. His hand stilled. In her periphery Aderyn saw his eyes widen. "Those," he said, making an effort to keep his tone even, "are the Commentaries. Why-?" "The Director told-" Belisarius pursed his lips, and then looked away. The engine started in a low-throated purr.

My pride in this feels a bit stale now, but at the time I thought it was the bees knees because I'd just been learning about subtext through body language and was pleased I'd been able to implement it to so effectively. So I'm still proud of it for that, so it goes here.

A line from your fic you think could have been better

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

"Very well. I wasn't being hyperbolic – if you don't assist Broussard, then he could very well be captured, and Martin would be in danger. Since you gave your word to protect him, and yet he remains at risk, you are still in the middle of a job. Thus what I said back at the Priory still stands. If you abandon Martin now, I will make it known to everyone important within the community that you deserted on a job." Preston leant over the table, fixing Aderyn with a stone-cold look. "I will see that you're unemployable if you don't do as I order."

Gods, Jauffre's a cunt, eh? A ruthless, stone-cold bastard. He failed his last employer, the new one is in danger, and by hook, crook, and blackmail, he's going to set things right. (he's also angry and grieving his best friend, but shh, that's not supposed to be the takeaway here since we're in Aderyn's POV).

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

Aderyn clicked her tongue and held out a hand. "It'll still be there in the morning. C'mon Dad." Martin froze in the act of reaching for her hand, staring up at Aderyn's wide eyes. "I mean- Um. Like. I was joking, yeah?" She gave an uncertain smile. Martin blinked. "Ah… Yes. Of course you were, problem child." He grabbed her hand, and allowed her to pull him upright.

It's just slips out. She plays it off as a joke, but they both know how they feel.

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

"I'm sorry, Miss-?" "Griffiths." He smiled shyly. "We didn't know there would be an extra person coming. Aderyn snorted. "You and me both." "I'm afraid you'll need to squeeze in on the end here," Darrow said, arranging the cutlery. She stepped back as Economou slid a folding chair into place, pursing his lips as he looked down the table. The grey metal stood out, starkly different to the rest of the elegantly carved wooden set. Economou opened his mouth as if to say something, but Aderyn waved it away. "No worries," she said, sliding into her seat.

Is it too on the nose? Maybe. I'm not a subtle person TBH. I'm planning a similar scene later on where they find an extra matching seat and, yeah, that's also on the nose, but if it works to get the point over then it works.

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

"You're still heavily injured. This isn't a video game, where you're healed in just a snap of the fingers. Aderyn, you can't go out into the field in this state." Martin frowned.

I'm so funny (half sarcasm). In case the context of this one has been missed, The Ruby Falls is set in a Modern, Non-magic AU, but based off a game that very much has magic with the ability to do this.

A line from your fic that's shocking

A line from your fic you want to talk about more