#am trying to acknowledge feelings as they pass but keep getting hooked like a scarf on a cheap metal bolted chair

[idk-anymore-mydudes]

Me: Next time I know I'm overreacting, I'm just going to not.

Me, five minutes after learning I threw away three slices of a friend's bacon that were not actually moldy but just super greasy: I'm the worst friend in the world.

[critrolesideblog]

Evening falls in the Pearlbow Wilderness with the last of the autumn leaves. A bitter wind heralds the coming of winter as it rattles its way through the skeletal trees, and the veil of gray that has been pulled across the sky all day awaits its cue to blanket the world beneath with snow. So, when a golden-amber light shines briefly in the wilderness, halfway between Erdeloch and Kaltenloch, there is no mistaking it for dying sunlight, which has not been seen by these tree trunks for some time, and it is little surprise at all, when a man with hair the color of a hearthfire appears out of the light with the soft crunch and thump of sturdy boots meeting forest floor.

The man looks north briefly, and then turns in a slow, clockwise circle, his azure eyes, bruised from lack of sleep, searching for any sign of his quarry. He hears the familiar, chittering call of an elf owl, and watches it take to the sky in a flutter of feathers and rustle of tree branches. A smile pulls on one side of his lips, and he hopes the bird is a good omen as he turns the slow circle again, but he finds only trees, trees, and more trees. The wind, delighted to have a new orange toy at its disposal, tugs excitedly at his hair. "Go where the wind blows, I suppose," he says with a sigh, and the leaves on the ground agree quietly that it is really the only sensible way to be getting along.

As he sets off west-northwest, he reaches into one of his coat's many pockets to touch the trinket housed there. It is a small thing, barely larger than a gold coin. He stole it over a year prior from a place far east of here. He turns it over in his pocket four times, before methodically tracing the design on its face with his thumb, a new habit he has picked up in recent weeks as he has searched for the woman it reminds him of.

Night arrives quickly in the autumnal wilderness, and cold quickly follows suit. Luckily, the man knows a thing or two about light and heat. He produces a flame in his unpocketed hand as quickly and easily as most people breathe. Most trees would be perturbed at the sudden appearance of fire in their midst, but the trees of this forest are old and delight in the man's bright magic. You are so close, they whisper as the wind glides across their branches. She is just there. The snow, sensing its cue, begins to fall then, kissing the man on the top of his head, shoulders, and cheeks, melting against his skin like a lover. Come, come, the flurries beckon. You are very close. He does not hear them, but he feels a renewed determination, or perhaps stubbornness, as he sets his shoulders and forges ahead.

It is the light he notices first. He extinguishes the flame in his hand, thinking it a possible trick of eye, but no, he can definitely glimpse a glimmer of light up ahead. He notices the trees next, the way they have created a path for him, their branches curling elegantly overhead like living archways. Finally, pace quickening, he catches the scent of woodsmoke and food on the air. As he gets closer, the glimmer coalesces into a series of arcane lights, like too-still fireflies, leading a path up to the door of a home, now visible in the clearing, and wreathing it in gold. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he is reminded of a tree, far away, glowing with daylight in a city of eternal night.

He blames this rush of sentimentality for his lack of caution as he steps through the final archway. He does not sense the arcane wire until he has already tripped it. He hisses in pain, flinching backward, as bright, white light sears his retinas. Old habit brings his hands instinctively level with his face, palms outward, a position of readiness disguised as surrender. He hears what can only be the door ahead opening with a groan, and a woman's voice calls out from the light, full-throated and wary.

"Who's there?"

"My name is Caleb, Caleb Widogast." He replies, trying his best to keep his voice level and calm, despite his mounting discomfort at the fact that he cannot see. "I mean you no harm. I am looking for someone. I believe her name is Torvi. I met her once, some years ago, and I wish to speak with her, if I may." He pauses to allow a reply, but all he hears is the wind in the branches and the faint crackle of a fire. He can feel his pulse thumping nervously in his throat. He ventures to speak again. "I," he pauses, considering how direct he should be. "I met her in-- in a place called--"

"I know what the place is called." The woman's voice is not soft exactly, but it is no longer quite so sharp. The lights dim back to their firefly glow. "You are not the first person from Vergessen to find their way here." He thinks it might be sadness he hears in her voice and ventures to open his eyes slowly.

As the black splotches on his vision reduce, the woman comes slowly into focus. He notices first the book in a sling on her hip, dark leather stark against the golden yellow of her dress. Next, the dishcloth in her hands, giving the impression of being caught in the middle of a chore and undoubtedly hiding any number of spell components. It is not Torvi. Torvi's face is the first clear memory he has after ... after. He thinks he sees a resemblance, in the shape of her eyes, the sweet-apple roundness of her cheekbones, the broad curve of her nose, the pointed slope of her ears. Her jaw is different, though, more square, her shoulders more broad, her stature just a bit too tall. "May I ask who you are?"

"I'm Maeve, Torvi's sister." She beckons him with a tilt of her head. "Come on in."

Caleb approaches with greater caution this time, as Maeve steps back, opening the door further. He casts Detect Magic with a practiced twist of his hand and spots no further traps on the path ahead of him -- at least, none that are currently activated. There are, however, a dozen different wards that he can see around the perimeter of the clearing and a dozen more traps besides. It is some of the most intricately woven Abjuration magic he has had the pleasure of witnessing, and he regrets, for just an instant before he steps through the doorway, that he does not have time right now to investigate it further.

His beleaguered eyes adjust to the candle and firelight of the interior to take in a simple but well-appointed home. There are cabinets and a large work bench along the far wall. Herbs of all varieties hang from the rafters. There is a bookcase filled to bursting with books of all sizes, some of which glow with magic. There is a large dining table, crowned with a steaming cauldron of stew, and there, in a chair by the hearthfire, is Torvi. She has a blanket pulled around her, and she is leaning against one side of the armchair, her arm curled beneath her chin as a pillow, gazing into the hearthfire, seemingly lost in thought, or perhaps, just lost. She gives no indication that she has noticed him enter.

He has had weeks to get used to the idea of her being alive and not dead, as he had assumed her to be from the moment Ikithon took posession of her holy symbol all those years ago, but no amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for the experience of seeing her there exactly as he remembered her.

"This will hurt." The first words to cut through the clouds in a decade, as the heart-shaped face of a half-Elven woman, with dark-brown skin and sunlight-on-honey eyes, comes into focus, her warm hands caressing his face. "Like saltwater on a wound, it is necessary. There is so much you may yet do." Her expression shifts, then, from an apologetic smile to slack-jawed awe. Her eyes are bright as they rove across his face. "I see the face of Corellon in you."

Now that he is within the warmth of the home, Caleb cannot attribute the tingling numbness in his face and hands to the cold. His heart pounds against his ribcage, as desperate to escape as he suddenly is, but he manages to draw in a deep, shaky breath. Breathe, he reminds himself. He  grips the charm in his pocket with all his strength, such as it is, and takes a deep breath again. Eins, swei, drei... It takes him a moment to realize that Maeve is looking at him expectantly. "Sorry?" He croaks.

"I said, if you want to speak with her, you'll have to wait, but if you're not in a hurry, she'll come around soon enough."

"Ah, ja, I can wait." He picks a point on Maeve's cheek, just below her eyes, to fix his gaze upon. Stay on task, Widogast. "I had hoped to speak with you as well. Perhaps, we can do that first." One of her eyebrows quirks upward.

"Alright," she says, after a moment. "We can do that over dinner. You can set your coat and things there" Though her words are phrased as suggestions, her voice rings with the authority of someone used to being listened to, as she motions to a coat rack by the door. Her eyes flick to his pocketed hand. There is still a wariness in the set of her shoulders, and the dishcloth still partly obscures one of her hands. Ah.

Caleb nods in acquiescence and acknowledgment, one paranoid arcanist to another, and removes the hand from his pocket slowly, palming the trinket as he does so. He turns away from her and divests himself of his scarf and coat, keeping the trinket in hand all the while. He keeps his eyes on the wood floor, the cob wall, the curling leaf design of the wooden coat hooks. When he turns back, Maeve has set three places at the dining table. "Ah, none for me, please," he says, waving a staying hand as he crosses to the table. She pauses, ladle suspended in midair, and her eyes pass over his thin form, even thinner now that he no longer has his coat, in frank, skeptical appraisal. Judging by the unimpressed look on her face, she finds him wanting.

"We feed our guests around here," she says, in the same authoritative tone, and ladles soup into each of the three bowls. Caleb's lips form a thin line, briefly, the only outward indication of his inward prickling at this insistence, but he quickly clears the frown from his face. He wants her amenable to his request, and if he has to eat a little, in spite of the knotted nerves residing where his stomach should be, so be it. He notices that his bowl, at least, is more broth than vegetable as Maeve retrieves a large loaf of crusty bread from a cupboard, tears off a large piece for each of them, and settles into the seat across the table from him. "So," she says, before digging into her bowl. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Caleb takes a deep breath. "Are you familiar with a man by the name of Trent Ikithon?"

Maeve stills. Her eyes meet Caleb's, wary and discerning. "I know of him -- he is one of the members of the Cerberus Assembly -- but I have never met him."

"Count yourself lucky," Caleb says, forcing his face into a wry smile. He launches into a monologue he has rehearsed many times over the past few weeks, detailing some of the crimes of his former mentor, how Ikithon used Vergessen as a base of operations, the ordeal of his trial and imprisonment, the nigh certainty of the involvement of other Assembly members in Ikithon's crimes, and the painstaking, fruitless search to find anyone willing to testify against them. Maeve's eyes stay on him all the while as she takes in every word with a quiet, steadfast focus that reminds him of another wizard he knows. "So," he says at last, after pausing to eat a small bite of broth-soaked bread. "If there is any evidence you can offer, any testimony of anything you or your sister might have witnessed --"

"No."

Caleb blinks once, twice, three times. "No?"

"No," she repeats, softly. "I admire what you are doing, but we cannot help you."

"If you are afraid of reprisals, I can assure you--"

"I'm fairly certain you can assure nothing where the Assembly is involved," she says, with a cynical smile, "no matter how powerful you or your friends with the Cobalt Soul are. But, nevertheless, I have no evidence to offer. I witnessed nothing, aside from my sister's declining health, which is too circumstantial to be helpful, and any evidence she might offer would not stand up in court of law."

Caleb's shoulders and head curl forward as her words hit him like a blow to the chest. He hazards a glance at the woman by the fire, who has not moved over the course of their conversation. "Is she so unwell?"

". . . No." Maeve drags the word out into two syllables. "She is much better than she was, but..." She taps a quick staccato rhythm against the side of her bowl with her spoon, before gazing across the room at her sister. "Torvi was not insane before she went to Vergessen, only inconvenient. When she was a teenager, she began performing miracles and wonders around our village, and she was not shy about declaring their provenance. She was always blessing people that they may 'walk in Corellon's beauty' or 'may the light of the Archeart guide them.'" Caleb's heart sinks as he guesses where this story is going. Maeve shrugs, her gaze dropping back to her bowl. "We got fined every time the Reapers came to town. The villagers didn't care, so long as their kid was healed or their shop brought in coin -- a blessing was a blessing. But she didn't stop there. She also went after the priest to the All-Hammer that kept the shrine in our village. She said he worshiped the Empire, not the Gods."

"I bet that made her a lot of friends in high places."

Maeve gives a snort of humorless laughter at this, her cynical smile returning. "No kidding. My parents made a deal with the lawmaster: instead of sending her to jail, they agreed that her worship of "false gods"--" she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers "-- was a sign of her obvious madness, and sent her to Vergessen instead." She pushes her soup around the bowl with her spoon. "They thought they were doing her a kindness. But, regardless," her eyes flash up to catch his, hard with grim certainty. "Even if she was completely well, I think we both know the word of a convicted heretic and idolator is worth very little in the eyes of the law."

Caleb rubs his tired eyes with a sigh, as his left hand worries at the charm. He has so much work yet to do. Da'leth, Margolin, Tversky -- they were all too close to the Volstrucker program not to have been involved. They had to be removed from power for any real change to take place, and his search for concrete evidence and testimony had been so fruitless. When he had found record of Torvi's discharge from Vergessen, it ... it had felt like a sign, he admits to himself, cringing a little at the irrationality of it. A sign that perhaps he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He unfurls his hand to reveal the trinket: a small disc of silver engraved with two moons backed by a four-pointed star.

Maeve, glimpsing the symbol, tilts her head curiously. "Are you a devotee of Corellon?"

The idea that someone could mistake him for a devotee of any god is strange enough to make him fumble the charm as he turns it over again in his hand. "Ah, I cannot say so, no. I have never been much for religion."

Maeve's gestures with her chin toward the book holstered at his side. "Why bother with the fickle will of Gods when us mortals can achieve so much on our own?" It is not really a question. There is a book on her own hip after all.

Caleb nods. "That is part of it." He turns the charm over in his hand again, and a memory rises to the surface of his mind: the soft, rhythmic clack-clack of wooden prayer beads as they sift through his mother's clever fingers. She kneels before the shrine of Pelor, eyes closed, the dawn light shining off her burnished copper hair, prayers whispering earnestly through her lips. Much good that it did her. "For a long time, it seemed to me the supposed benevolence of the gods was nothing but a cruel joke." Bless my son that he may live always in Your light. "My view is a bit softer now, but ..." Bless our Empire that we may bring light to the dark corners of the world.

Maeve nods. Her eyes gleam with a cold anger. "I rage at that one, sometimes," she says, her eyes darting toward the moonlit star in his hand. "And argue -- one-sided." A wry smile twists her lips.

The sudden scrape of metal on metal makes both of their heads turn at once toward the front window. It opens with a creak and in hops a tiny elf owl.

Maeve rises and crosses quickly to the window. "You've been eavesdropping, haven't you?" She asks, as she closes the window with a sharp snap. "It's very rude to keep your guest waiting." The owl's head swivels to gaze at Caleb, and he recognizes immediately the familiar glow of Fey magic in the bird's eyes. With another little hop, it takes flight from the window sill and lands on the table a foot from him. There is a long moment of silence as the bird looks him over, this way and that, and -- pip, pip, pip-- hops a little closer, faerie fire still burning its eyes.

Caleb remembers well the safe, comforting distance of viewing the world through a familiar's eyes. "I had a little owl like you once," he says, softly. A smile tugs at his lips as he remembers Frumpkin perched on Beau's shoulder, his tiny feathers ruffled by the ocean breeze. "Well, he was a cat really, but he was an owl for a little while."

"She is a bigger owl really," says the first voice he remembers from Vergessen. "But she is small for right now."

Caleb takes a deep breath. Eins, swei, drei... He forces himself to tear his eyes from the safe visage of the little bird and face her. She is not quite looking at him, but she is facing his direction now. He can see clearly now that the light reflected in her upturned eyes is not fire but Fey. "Do-- do you remember me, Schwester?"

"Of course, I do," she says, voice soft and warm.

Caleb rubs his thumb over the design on the charm one last time. "I brought this for you," he says, holding it out for the owl to inspect. "To replace the one that was taken." The owl bobs its head this way and that in a circular motion, and then snaps up the trinket so quickly that Caleb barely has time to worry for his fingers before the bird is midair again. She lands on the back of the chair, dropping the charm onto Torvi's waiting palm. Her hand closes around it, and as it does, the light in her eyes grows and brightens until they shine like twin stars from her face. They are bright enough that Caleb is not able to look at her long without needing to avert his weary eyes. It is not unlike the ways he has seen Jester and Caduceus' magic manifest at times, and he wonders what visions her deity is granting her, as Maeve resumes her seat across from him.

The room is quiet for a long while, save for the crackle of the hearthfire and the occasional scrape of Maeve's spoon against her bowl. The tiny owl is beginning to doze on the back of the chair, when the light disappears from Torvi's eyes with a blink, and she looks down at the trinket with her own eyes for the first time. "Beautiful," she whispers, as errant tears spill down her cheeks.

"Schwester..." It feels cruel to ask, another sin to add to the pile, but she is here now. Really here, and he has traveled all this way. He has to ask. "Schwester, is there anything you remember about your time at Vergessen, any evidence you can offer, any direction you can point me in, to help me bring down those who used that place for evil?"

Still gazing at the talisman, she tilts her head in a way that reminds Caleb of a curious bird and seems to consider his question for a moment. "You were the first one I restored in that place," she says at last. "Half mad and half cursed, so young and so full of Corellon's beauty and magic." The ghost of a smile curls around her lips as she rubs her thumb over the design on the charm in much the same way Caleb had a moment before. "And now you have done so many beautiful and important things." And ugly and terrible things, Caleb thinks wryly. The scales are not yet balanced.

"I just need to do a little more, Schwester." A phantom, stinging itch starts up in his forearms, and his fingers worry against each other for lack of the charm to turn between them.

Torvi's eyes meet his without warning, and he is caught like a startled creature in the sudden glimpse of sunlight.

"Fuck, if I ever have to sit in a courtroom again, it'll be too fuckin' soon," Beau says, stretching in the dim lamplight outside the tavern. He makes a noise of agreement, and she glances at him. "Y'know, Yasha's got some unfinished business in Xhorhas. We've been talking about taking off for a few weeks, few months maybe, to go back to her old stomping grounds..." She looks at Caleb sidelong, and he can read the concern in the slight shift in the pitch of her voice, the rising of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, though she plays it off well. He knows he looks like shit. It turned out listening to weeks of testimony against his abuser was not a great aid to his already-fitful sleep.

"Gut." He says, and he means it. "It will be good for her to get some closure. She deserves it, and you both deserve some time to yourselves." He offers her a smile he hopes is reassuring.

She nods, and between one breath and the next, her arms are around him. He allows himself to lean into her vice-like grip, hugging her back as hard as he can. "Take it easy, while we're gone, alright, man? We'll kick some more Assembly ass when we get back." She releases him at last and gives him a pat on the cheek. "Get some rest, man. You deserve it."

Caleb feels the heavy weight of his allotment of Trent Ikithon's platinum and gold in his coat pocket and knows that he does not. "Ja," he says. "I will. There's just a little more to do."

"And then what?" The question snaps Caleb's attention back to the present. Torvi is peering at him, her eyes seeming to search in his for an answer. "A little more, and then what? After you find this evidence you need, will it be a little more still, or will you rest?"

If he found evidence against Da'leth and the others, there would be more trials. The web would unravel further still, and he would have new threads to follow. Not to mention, the problem of the ex-Volstrucker scattered to the winds. "Well, you know what they say," he says with a sardonic grin. "There is no rest for the wicked." Torvi does not return his grin.

"You are not wicked." She says this with such certainty that it sparks a small flame of anger in his chest.

"How do you know?" He asks, more than a little petulantly.

"I know." And there is something in the compassionate depths of her sunlit eyes that makes Caleb think, inexplicably, that she does know. She knows what transpired before Vergessen and since. The flame in his chest is quenched thoroughly. He tears his gaze from hers at last, eins, swei, drei... "Alas," she continues, once his breathing has evened out again. "My memories from Vergessen are... muddled." She concludes quietly. "But if I think of anything helpful, I can contact you." He nods, his eyes on the floorboards, as disappointment washes over him.

"I suppose I'll be on my way then." He says, quietly, and rises from his seat. Maeve rises with him.

"I'd like a favor from you before you go," says Torvi, as he turns from the table. He looks up, in surprise.

"Name it."

"I'd like you to hold onto this for me," she says, holding the talisman out with a smile. "I'm always losing mine."

"It's true," mutters Maeve. "I'm always finding them in strange places."

"This one means a lot to me," Torvi says. "I don't want to lose it." She holds the charm out toward him insistently. "Keep it safe for me."

Maeve looks at him sidelong and sighs. "If you don't, she'll just find some way of sneaking it into your pocket as you leave."

"It's true," Torvi agrees, and there is mischief twinkling amidst the warm affection in her eyes, a particular mix that reminds him strongly of Jester. He crosses to her to take the trinket back, and as he does so, her fingers catch his. He feels a familiar warmth settle over him. "May you walk in Corellon's beauty, Bruder." When Maeve had said the words earlier, they had sounded trite to Caleb's ears, but Torvi's benediction was infused with such sincerity.

Caleb bends forward slightly, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Danke, Schwester." She smiles at him warmly, as he releases her grasp and pockets the trinket.

Maeve opens the door for him as he hastily dons his scarf and coat and steps out into the frigid air. To Caleb's surprise, she follows him out onto the step, closing the door behind her. The clearing is now covered in a thin layer of snow, and their breaths create little puffs of fog in the dim glow of the arcane lights. Maeve leans out past the eave of the house for a moment to look up at the sky, but the stars are veiled with clouds. She frowns and straightens, crossing her arms. "Can I give you a little advice?" She asks, her voice pitched low, eyes following the meandering descent of a snowflake.

Caleb watches the snowflake, also, watches it spiral and drift, until it is lost in a sea of shadow. He is not sure he wants advice. He wants evidence, a direction to go in. He has lost his only lead, and now, he is back at square one.

"When I'm stuck on a spell," Maeve continues. "I find the best thing to do is take a break. Then, when I'm doing laundry or gardening or whatever, the solution will come to me." She reaches out a hand past the eave to catch some of the falling snow. "Even the Wildmother can't bloom all the time." A strong gust of wind swirls around them then, trying its best to push Caleb northward. Caleb adjusts his scarf and coat to stop its icy fingers from trailing down his neck, and Maeve shrugs. "Take it or leave it."

"Thank you," Caleb says with a nod. Maeve nods back and turns to re-enter the house, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

Caleb steps off of the porch, re-casting detect magic with a twist of his hand. He wants to be well clear of the Abjuration magic before he attempts to teleport. The snow crunches under his boots as he makes his way down the row of lights, and the wind whistles in the tree branches and tries, once again, to tug him northward, pulling at his hair this time, loosening it from its tie.

The sharp, clean smell of the fresh snow reminds Caleb of Eiselcross... of Essek. The thought of reuniting with Essek had been a light at the end of the tunnel, during Ikithon's trial. He had even spent time crafting his own Sending spell, so he could contact Essek once the trial was over. When the day came, it had felt too selfish to use it. There was still so much to do.

And Essek isn't the only thing awaiting him in Eiselcross. In the underworld of Aeor lies a crucible, a final test of his tentative, hard-won, untrustworthy goodness.

Caleb walks much further than he needs to. The snowflakes try to kiss his worries away. When this doesn't work, they stop falling, leaving only the wind carding its fingers through his hair with alternating sweetness and frustration. It whistles some more to catch his attention, but he is too lost in his spiraling thoughts to hear it.

He does hear another noise, though, or thinks he does. He cannot find the little owl when he looks up to the tree branches, but he does see a star. A single star, bright enough to shine through a thinning in the veil, twinkling, safe and familiar...

Caleb swears under his breath and yanks a copper wire out of his pocket, before he can think better of it. He shapes it much like he has seen Jester do numerous times and takes a deep breath. He visualizes Essek, his lilac eyes, his high cheekbones, the iridescent freckles dusted across his twilight skin, the elegant curve of his jaw, the small dimples that appear on his cheeks when he smiles, really smiles, and speaks the magic word. "Hallo, Freund, I--" It occurs to him suddenly that, although it is a very reasonable 6:13 in the evening in this part of the Pearlbow Wilderness, it is much deeper into the night at Vurmas Outpost. "I apologize I didn't think of the time. I hope I'm not disturbing you." Nine words left. "Thinking I'll travel to you soon... to exchange theories?" The words leave his lips with the ghost of a smile, and he thinks he hears a smile in Essek's voice as well, when he responds:

"Caleb Widogast, it is good to hear your voice no matter the time of night. I can think of nothing else I would rather do."

.

.

.

Notes: I rather extended the limits of Read Object and Read Mind from the Knowledge Domain descriptions, because.

[theoreticslut]

The Truth that you Deny // Part 5

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

A/N: i’m honestly so sad that this is the last part to this series guys :( I had so much fun writing it and have had such amazing feedback on it, i’m not sure i want to give it up. I have thought about doing a small drabble or two of the story further into the relationship, but i don’t want to drag it out too long. If you guys like it enough and would like a sort of epilogue, let me know and I’ll definitely think about doing one. thank you to everyone that’s been reading this as I post it and giving feedback and/or reblogging. I am eternally grateful for you guys <3 out of the previous 4 parts this story has a total of about 400 notes which is actually crazy. so just, thank you! i love you guys Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton

You woke up christmas morning excited to spend the day with the people you considered family. You felt that you had gotten them all some great gifts and couldn’t wait to give them to each of them.

Even thought it was only 7:30 in the morning you couldn’t help but be awake. You knew most everyone else was still sleeping save for Mr and Mrs Weasley.

You decided that you’d like to have a shower before everything got started today so you quietly got yourself out of bed and found yourself some clothes to wear.

Stepping into the hall was oddly uncomfortable since there was no distant chatter from downstairs or someone’s room, but nonetheless you made your way to the bathroom which was just down the hall from Fred and George’s room.

Neither of them would be up for at least another half hour which was plenty enough time to shower.

You started the water and waited for it to warm up as you stripped down naked.

Stepping into the shower you shivered at the sheer temperature difference, but you happily welcomed the warm water on your skin.

You washed your face and shampooed your hair, finishing it before adding some conditioner. You started shaving and as you did so you started humming, getting lost into one of your favourite songs.

Eventually you finished shaving and washing your body, able to rinse the suds from your skin. You sighed as you shut the water off and stepped out into the bath mat.

After drying off and getting dressed in a pair of jeans and an older sweater, you picked up your mess and put everything back the way it was, throwing your towel into the basket Mrs Weasley had left in there for them.

Opening the door you were surprised to find George sitting on the floor against the wall.

“George?”

“Hmm? Oh, are you done?” He asked, lazily looking up at you from the floor.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Uh, what were you doing out here?”

“I had to use the bathroom but you were in there so I figured I’d wait right here. But I’m still a bit tired and you sing really nice.” He smiled, taking your extended hand to get up.

“Oh, uh, thank you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but it’s all yours now.” You smile as he nods, smiling back at you.

As you walk away he can’t help but notice how great you smell, which is only more intense in the small bathroom.

~.~

As you appear downstairs, you’re greeted by Mrs Weasley as she makes a pot of coffee.

“Good morning.” You smile.

“Good morning, dear. Would you like a cup?” She asks as you stand next to the table.

“Yes, please.”

“Is anyone else up yet?” She asks.

“I ran into George on the way out of the bathroom, but I haven’t heard or seen anyone else. George doesn’t even look like he’s ready to be up yet.” You chuckle, taking the mug she hands out to you.

“Typical.” She smiles, sitting down at the table and motioning for you to do the same.

“Have you talked to Fred and George yet about everything?” She asks, taking a sip from her mug.

“Not yet. I didn’t want to make anything awkward right before the holidays, but I’ll tell them soon”

She nods and takes another drink from her mug.

~.~

After sharing a cup of coffee and a good half hour conversation about school and what you’re thinking about for next year, Mrs Weasley asked if you would wake everyone up.

First you went and woke Ginny as she was closest. She didn’t quite want to be up yet so you left her and made your way to the twins room.

You knocked on the door, not hearing anything from inside.

“Fred? George? Time to get up.” You knocked again, but still didn’t hear anything.

Carefully, you opened the door and peered around to see the two of them still fast asleep. You sigh, but smile nonetheless.

You make you’re way into their room to shake them awake. You start with Fred to which he just groans, turning around.

“Come on you two. It’s time to get up.” You huff, trying to pull the blanket off George as he fights you.

“You two are impossible.” You sigh, shrieking when Fred grabs you from behind and pulls you down onto the bed with him.

Both of them laugh as you huff, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

“Your hair is cold.” He points out as his face rests on it.

“I showered this morning and it’s still damp.”

“I can’t imagine my hair taking that long to dry.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“Can you let me go, please? You know that your mum would kill us if she found us like this, right?”

He hummed, not really giving you an answer but acknowledging your statement.

“I really don’t feel like dying on Christmas.”

You can hear the both of them chuckle, but you still don’t get a response.

“Are you guys falling back asleep?! For Merlin’s sake” you groan slapping Fred’s arms and when that didn’t work you steal one of his pillows from under his head and hit him with it.

“Just ten more minutes, that’s all we’re asking.” George mumbles, already half asleep again.

“No! Get your ass up.” You huff, throwing Fred’s pillow at him.

After another few minutes of struggling you finally get them both out of bed and you sigh in exasperation.

With them finally awake you work on waking Ron and Harry, and then waking up Ginny for real.

~.~

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Hermione greets as she makes her way in the house that afternoon.

“Merry Christmas, ‘mione.” You smile, taking her bag for her so she could take her jacket off.

“Have you guys done gifts yet?” She asks, hanging her coat on one of the hooks by the door.

“Not yet. We’ve been waiting for you. We can all sit in the living room and get started if you’re ready.” Mrs Weasley said, carrying a tray filled with mugs of cocoa for everyone.

Hermione nodded and followed you into the living room, taking a seat next to Harry, Ron, and Ginny. You take your place  between Fred and George, both of whom smile as they pass you a mug from the tray.

About an hour of opening gifts, you were nearing the last couple gifts. So far you had received the traditional Weasley sweater with your initial on the front, a pair of sparkly yet simple teardrop earrings from Ginny, a book about one of your favourite classes from hermione, a notebook from Fred, followed by some nice quills from George, a mixtape both of them had put together for you of some of all your guys favourite songs. You had also gotten a new maroon scarf from Ron and some candies from Harry.

You had given Fred and George their gifts from you; a notebook for each of them to keep track of all their crazy inventions, a few joke toys you were certain they’d never seen which made each of them laugh, and a promise to buy them each a butterbeer on your next trip to hogsmeade.

Everyone else seemed to enjoy their gifts from you as well which was nice to know. You loved getting people gifts and it was always so much nicer when they liked them.

“Okay, I think this is the last of them and it’s for y/n from Fred and George.” Mr Weasley read.

You looked at them, gingerly taking the small gift as it was handed to you. You looked between the two twins wondering what else they could have gotten you as you had already gotten enough from them.

“Stop looking at us and open it.” Fred chuckles.

“Why did you get me something else? You both already gave me enough.”

“Just open it, please.” He smiles, rubbing his neck.

“I’m a little scared, nothing is going to pop out at me is it?”

“Nothing will pop out at you. We promise.” George says, looking over to his brother as you finally get the wrapping paper off the small box.

You open it up and gasp. Inside lay a beautiful silver locket with intricate detailing on the face of it.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, looking between them.

“Open it up.” George urges.

You do as he says and your mouth falls open, your hand coming up to cover it.

“Fred, George...” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes.

On the inside, there was a picture of the three of you from earlier this year on the side that would lay against your chest. In the opposite side there was an engraving of a heart and the words ‘we love you, f & g’

“Do you like it?” Fred asks, trying to catch your eye as you’re still looking down at it.

You nod, trying to keep from crying.

“I love it.” You say, clearing your throat as it had gotten groggy holding back tears.

“Good,” Fred smiles. “We really like you, like a lot, y/n.”

“We have for awhile.” George adds.

“We weren’t sure how to tell you, but then we saw this locket and knew.” He smiles as you watch him.

“Yeah, we knew you would like wearing it, even more so when we got the engraving and picture put in.” Fred says.

“Like we said, we really like you, y/n.” George starts.

“It’s actually more than just liking you. We’ve both loved you pretty much since we all became friends.” Fred adds, the two of them seeming to ramble at this point.

“We know you were worried about hurting one of us, but you don’t have to. We don’t care what anyone else might say, we love you and we’re going to be with you for merlin’s sake.” George smiles, watching your face for a reaction.

You chuckle as tears are starting to spill over your cheeks. You pull both of them into a hug, sighing as you feel their arms wrap around you.

“It’s about time!” Ginny cheers, causing all of you to chuckle. Well except for Mrs Weasley who shushes her.

“It seriously is though. I’m glad you all finally admitted it.” Hermione says, smiling.

“Yeah, congrats guys.” Harry says.

“I love you, guys.” You whisper, smiling as they both kiss your cheek.

“This does mean you’ll be our girlfriend, right? And maybe even someday, our wife?” George asks.

You pull away and chuckle as you try to wipe your eyes.

“Yes. Merlin are you two dumb.”

Fred and George both smile at you, admiring how gorgeous you look sitting there as theirs, even when you have tear stains across your cheeks. It took a while to get here, but now that they were, they wanted to keep it for as long as they possibly could.

[new2otomelol]

Maid to the Rescue - Part 2 - KBTBB fanfic

I do not own the rights to KBTBB, Voltage does. This is just a fanfic made for fun! Hope you enjoy.

Two days later...

Preparation for rescuing the bidders took longer than expected, but when it comes to the prime minister, we have to be extremely thorough.

Night lights on the freeway breeze past me as I speed to my location. My heart beats in anticipation for what's to come; not out of fear, but excitement. 

A year ago, a planned mode of attack would have never crossed my mind, in fact, many things scared me back then, not anymore.

A sudden beep lures me back to the present. "Siren! It's done! Net took his buddies out to the bar. Nix and I are taking off." I tap the earpiece in my ear to respond. "Great job everyone, I'm parking at the south end. Was the other vehicle dropped off and weaponized earlier?" Nix responds this time, "hell yes darling and I can't tell you how happy I am to be back with you all." God I missed my friend. "It's rock and roll time! Gage, do you have controls over the cameras and signal blockers for the warehouse?"

I hear a different beep this time, "yes sweetheart, there's 20 armed guards and a masked guy in there. Be safe. We're on standby for you." I click my earpiece one more time and give the code "operation GAMBLE is underway."

I park the car two blocks away from my intended location and exit the vehicle, proceeding to remove my weapons from the trunk. First, I store the tranquilizer guns on my side holsters and grab a couple of Glocks loaded with armor piercing rounds and other small bullets to cause damage, but hopefully not to kill. I place my knives on the inside holsters of my jacket as well and place a few hand-held darts on outside pockets of my my bulletproof vest. I have to anticipate the boys’ physical condition due to their current situation, they might be weak, or worse. Just in case, I prepared injections containing electrolyte solution and a bit of adrenaline educing drugs and store them in a small container on the inside of my boots. I finish off with my face scarf covering everything except for my eyes and connect my earpiece to the side of my tactical helmet that is equipped with automatic night vision and other goodies. Clad all in black I walk toward my destination in the darkness of night.

I reach the rear entrance of a dilapidated warehouse and notice a guard standing outside the door; a parking lot light hardly illuminates his area of supervision. I make my way slowly behind him as he leans lazily on his side against the door, attempting to ignite his lighter for some much needed nicotine relief.  The man suddenly jerks as he notices a shadow on the ground creep up from behind and a sudden sting on his neck, but it's too late to react as the Ketamin in the dart takes effect. I catch him quickly and ease him down on the ground as he falls. It's nighty night for a few hours sweetheart.

I hurriedly pick the lock on the door with my tools and enter a very brightly-lit hallway that seems to have a couple of doors. The building itself is old and has been abandoned for some time, but these guys get use of everything the government owns, thanks to the prime minister.

I scope the area out and discover one of the rooms to be the security camera section, bingo! I tap the side button of my helmet to connect to my earpiece and contact Gage. "I'm about to take on the video security guys, let's start radio silence and jam all signals for 2 minutes." I whisper and hear a small beep as acknowledgment from Gage. I open the door slowly and find 3 men sitting in front of a set of 20 monitors. Some of the videos I could tell had been looping thanks to Gage's crafty hacking. I slowly take out 2 tranquilizer auto-injectors and sprint  towards the men stabbing the two to my left  and quickly taking another to engage the third guard. The poor man is  taken by surprise which causes him to react late. He reaches for his radio and turns pale as he notices there is no signal detected.  He lunges towards me in an attempt to strangle me, but I side-step him quickly and tranq him as he passes me.

I honestly feel bad for the men, they're only doing their job, but still, these are the bad guys Lisa, focus! I turn my attention to the monitors and notice that most of the views of the warehouse are set to observe outside and to a couple of the hallways, then I spot them, the bidders. The men are sitting on what looks like steel chairs that are volted to the ground and restrained with chains that are all connected to the center of the room held by one large lock. This should be easy enough.

I engage my comm and contact Lucy. "Alright Luce, I can see where the guards are and have acquired their location, go ahead and cut off the lights and block cellphone and radio signals again, we don't want them to communicate with each other."

"Sweetheart are you sure you want to go fully silent? We won't be able to get to you in time should something happen." Gage interjects. "I'm sure guys. I got this. Stay ready for part 2 of the plan and I will contact you in the next 15 minutes, if not, send help."

"Roger Siren!" I hear them all say and then the audio goes dead. The lights cut out almost immediately activating my night vision visor. I take out my dart guns and walk out to the hallway once again.

I can hear the rushing of footsteps all around the factory as confusion and chaos sets into to their reality. I run down the hall to the second door and before I can open it, one of the men bursts in. I take a step back and shoot him with a dart. Once he falls to the ground I notice two more behind him and shoot them as well. Seven down, 13 more left.

I jump over their bodies and make it to the main open area of the warehouse. I look around to find the stairs, I need to reach the second floor. The scene before me is almost comical as I see these tough men in suits scramble around in the dark aiming their weapons at nothing and sometimes at each other. "What the fuck man? Somebody must have broken in!" one man yelled. "Dude, better not shoot at anything, we need to get our flashlights! Where's our boss?" another yells. The first idiot answers back, "he's upstairs with those assholes!"

I try not to laugh at their dialogue and shoot them and 5 other men with darts; 10 to go. I rush up the staircase and notice beams of light coming from the railing. Crap, they found their flashlights.

"I see something!" one of them yells as I climb up the last few steps and spots me. He runs towards me in an attempt to tackle me. I drop my now empty tranquilizer guns and take out one of the auto injectors. I open my stance to let him get to me as he clashes to my torso, I bring up my knee with much force to strike him in his diaphragm, knocking all the air out of him. He pins me against a wall and coughs roughly, gasping for air. I stab the needle in his arm to tranq him and knock him out.

I hear the whistling sound of a bullet pass me by as I realize the rest of the men on the second floor with me and some have me in their sights. I push the man off of me and take out one of my Glocks as I roll out of the way and hide behind a metal cabinet. I hear many more shots, but I crouch low and shoot out their flashlights, gaining back my cover. 

I venture out once more and pass by two men before another one manages to grab me by the neck and squeezes tightly as he realizes that he has acquired me. I hold on to his arm and perform a scissor kick, entangling my legs around his neck and shifting our weight breaking his center of axis, taking us both down to the ground and knocking him out successfully.

Hearing the scuffle, 3 other men walk towards me, trying to feel their way around in the dark. I shoot each of the men’s legs where I know it won't be fatal and quickly get up and run towards the door at the end of the hall where my targets are located.

Keeping the count going, I have 5 men left to go and the masked idiot as well. I take a step back against the metal railing  and support myself as I kick down the door that leads me to the bidders. Once the door is smashed I roll out of the way and take cover behind the wall next to the door. As expected, the masked man remained inside with the rest of the guards. They quickly shoot a few rounds and stop to reload.

The lights suddenly flicker back on. Figured as much, I knew one of the men I left alone would eventually make it to the breaker and restart the system. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I know and have planned for. "Come out you bastard or we shoot them!" a man’s voice calls out from the room.

So cliché, can't criminals be a bit more creative? Laser sharks? Something more fun? Ugh, alright, time to end this. I stand up and walk in slowly while waiving my guns in the air as a form of surrender.

"Now what in the world do we have here?" Says the masked man. As expected, he is confused by my physique. Why would an intruder be skinny and shaped like a woman? Men, so predictable. I look at Eisuke, Mamoru, Ota, Soryu and Baba and thank goodness they are aware enough to see what is going on. It won't take much to get them going, although, poor guys, they look very roughed up and dehydrated.

The masked man lowers his gun, preparing himself to make a villainous speech and I take advantage of his ideocracy. I drop my guns to give him false hope that I am turning myself in, causing the men to laugh. They should have paid attention to my fingers, my throwing knives are hooked and ready to go.

It all happens in slow motion for me I start to swing the knives quickly into position and throw them. First, I am at the masked man's shooting hand, stabbing him right through his wrist. I then start to cart wheel to the side as one of the men begins to fire and I throw two more knives with one hand, hitting both men as I use my other hand to support my movement. I end up croouching next to Eisuke because I know the guards are under strict orders to not shoot him or the others.

"Bitch! Come out here and fight us!" One of the remaining two men states as the others either tend to their wounds or run away. I laugh a little too loud by accident and one of the men catches it, grunting in frustration.

Eisuke looks down at me and whispers, "I don't know who you are, but do you have a death wish?" I shrug it off, if he only knew who he was speaking to. "Okay, so does that mean you want to fight  hand to hand?" I yell out to the remaining morons.

The men whisper to each other, more than likely coming up with some sort of half-assed strategy. "We're lowering our weapons, come out, right fucking now." I place my guns on the floor and kick them away. I stand up and walk towards the men. As expected, one of them pulls out a knife while the other tries to pull out his gun from his back belt-holster. I run towards the man with the knife and smash my left arm in an angled swing against his right arm as hard as I can, causing him to drop his knife. I hold onto his biceps pushing his arms back and using them for balance as I plant my left leg down and kick hard at the man that was reaching for his gun, hitting him right under his chin with the heel of my right boot. I then shift the top part of my body back arching as much as possible, grabbing and pulling the knife guy hard, flipping him downward, smashing his head on the floor with his own momentum. Before I can hit the ground, I had let go of the man used my arms to support me leaving me in a wheel position, except for my extended right leg. I bring that leg down hard on top of the guard’s head, propelling the lower part of my body up and helping me flip upside up again. Both men end up knocked out.

I move quickly go to collect the guns from the floor as I hear a startled Baba yell, "Holy shit, that was amazing pretty lady!" I laughed again, they have no clue of who I am and no way to know as my helmet disguises my voice. I take a quick bow for fun and quickly look around again to get my bearings straight. At least two men are able and out there somewhere and masked freak has run out of the room like a wounded dog.

I re-upholster my guns and take out the case holding the electrolyte coctails I made for the men. As I take the auto-injectors  out, the men begin to panic a bit. "What are you going to do with those?" Soryu yells. "Relax gentlemen. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already (I always wanted to say that). These are to help you get rehydrated and give you the strength you need to follow me out of here, I can't carry you all."

I head to Mamoru first and stab him on one of his legs and do the same to the rest of the men. "Who are ya kid?" Mamoru starts off the inevitable round of questioning. I go to the center of the room and begin working on the massive lock that is holding all of their chains together. Jesus, masked man has a flair for the dramatic for sure. The lock seems complicated, but I begin to work on it. "Look pops, right now is not the time." He scoffs in frustration.

"Who sent you?" Eisuke asks. It takes me a minute and the lock finally gives way, I don’t have time for idle conversation and have to ignore them. "Alright men, listen to me. You can begin pulling your chains, they are lose now." I look up at them as they stand, then see that they have thick metal cuffs, stupid masked man. I take a small container of acid I carry for just such occasions. "Okay, show me your cuffs. I will be putting a drop of acid on the hinges. Be sure to shake them off quickly." The men do as told, but not without making a fuss about it all. "What else ya got on you?" Mamoru asks, trying to be funny. I remain silent, focusing on my plan.

"Okay men, we are heading out of this warehouse towards the back end. I anticipate that we'll be followed so we have a great cinematic car chase to look forward to. Be sure to grab some guns from the ground. Let's go!"

PART 3 COMING SOON...

[carmenlire]

Oh jesus, I sure would cry if SOMEONE, like my FAVOURITE author *cough* you *cough*, would write a christmas prompt for my birthday that's coincidentally on DECEMBER 12TH, 12 days before CHRISTMAS, I'm just thinking out loud here

It is midnight in Germany so Happy 18th Birthday Julia!!! You are so amazing and I am so glad that we are friends and I just want you to know that you’re super lovely and I am so happy to have you in my life

read on ao3

“And what are we supposed to be doing here?”

Sighing exasperatedly, Magnus wraps his scarf around his neck. It’s a little hideous– a mishmash of patterns and swirling colors courtesy of Madzie– but it was a gift and Magnus makes it work, wearing an austere black coat to really let the riot of colors pop.

He meets Alec’s eyes in the mirror. “We’re going to the Christmas Fair downtown. We’re supposed to be having fun. Nothing serious, no business or worry of demonic sightings.”

Turning around, he takes the few steps over to Alec, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “We’ll browse around the shopping booths and eat something sweet and freeze our asses off.”

Alec smiles and leans in to kiss him only to pull back abruptly. “You have different chap stick on,” he says accusingly.

“Peppermint,” Magnus confirms, placing a smacking kiss on Alec’s cheek and trying not to coo and the vaguely disgusted look Alec throws him. “I thought it only appropriate. Tis the season, after all.”

Alec shakes his head but he’s hiding a smile. Magnus will take it as a win.

The two of them leave the loft and Magnus doesn’t try to hide his smile when Alec immediately reaches over and grabs his hand, thumb sweeping over his palm. They take the subway– yes, Alexander, I was taking the subway before your grandfather was even born– and get off at the stop that leads to Midtown Manhattan, close to Rockefeller Center. It’s two weeks before Christmas and the sidewalks are jam-packed with tourists and stressed shoppers.

Magnus doesn’t mind, though. There’s something about the very air in December that’s achingly sentimental. While he’s never been one to practice Christianity, Christmas is something that he’s celebrated for the past couple centuries, ever since he first landed in Europe.

Still, New York City at Christmastime is another beast altogether. They pass a dozen vendors selling Christmas trees and Magnus is paying far more attention to Alec than he is to his surroundings.

Doing his best to keep his fondness under wraps, Magnus internally rolls his eyes at Alec’s expression. He’s trying to look unaffected at the crowd of people and the miles of lights and garland and decorations. They’re rounding the corner when Alec stops in his tracks and Magnus grins as Alec’s eyes light up.

“Still aren’t sure what you’re supposed to do,” Magnus teases.

Alec doesn’t even spare him a glance as he takes in the crowds of people milling about in barely organized chaos. This Christmas Fair has been going on in the city every December 12th for over a hundred years and it’s gained quite a following.

Families are milling about, kids racing by with cookies and toys. Magnus looks around and breathes in the scent of balsam and toasted marshmallow and feels something settle into place.

For the millionth time, he wonders at how Christmas could be so much more than a simple day.

He startles, though, as Alec pulls him toward the closest booth.

“Are you looking for anything in particular,” Alec absently asks, paying close attention to the boxes of artisan chocolates on display.

Humming, Magnus thinks for a minute before shaking his head. “Not really, I’m afraid. I usually end up buying whatever catches my eye. What about you?”

He eyes a box of peppermint bark, debating, while he waits for Alec’s answer.

No,” Alec finally says. “You know that we don’t really celebrate Christmas. While I know more than other shadowhunters, I can still be pretty clueless. Izzy, Jace, and I usually exchanged gifts and snuck out of the Institute to eat dinner but that’s about it.”

“I still don’t know how even shadowhunters keep their heads in the sand about Christmas, especially in New York. Signs of it are literally everywhere, darling.”

Alec shrugs. “You’re forgetting that we spend most of December at the Academy until we graduate. Idris has their own holidays. Though none that mean unlimited gingerbread,” Alec ends distractedly.

Magnus looks up from the chocolate and sees that Alec’s moved on to the next booth– homemade gingerbread cookies.

“I didn’t know you liked gingerbread,” he says, amused.

“It’s never come up.”

Alec looks over at him, considering, and Magnus grins as he moves on without buying the peppermint bark. Laying an arm around Alec’s back, Magnus looks between Alec and the gingerbread, bemused.

“Alexander, you’re about to start drooling.”

Glaring, Alec just asks, “Do you want one?”

Magnus makes a show of thinking before finally suggesting, tongue in cheek, “We could share one?”

He bites back his laughter at the incredulous look Alec shoots him. “I don’t share my gingerbread,” Alec says firmly.

Magnus sighs dejectedly, gently bumping his hip against his boyfriend’s. “Very well,” he says sadly. “I thought it would be romantic to share but I forgot my boyfriend is possessive over his sweets.”

“Frosting or no frosting?” Alec doesn’t even deign to acknowledge Magnus and Magnus tucks a hand into Alec’s back pocket as he murmurs, “Surprise me, darling.”

Alec pays for the cookies and immediately bites the head off his frosted gingerbread Santa, meeting Magnus’s scandalized eyes without expression. “It’s the best part,” is all he offers and Magnus laughs as he shakes his head, nudging them to keep going.

The two of them make their way through dozens of booths. There are wood cutouts and photography booths and they pass enough food vendors that Magnus starts to wonder if Alec’s stomach isn’t both bottomless and made of cast iron.

He’s long known that his boyfriend has a sweet tooth to rival the Cookie Monster’s but it’s something else entirely to see Alec in his element.

There are quite a few toy booths, and Magnus finds himself in quite a few heated debates with Alec over the best present for kids. Magnus discovers– much to his surprise– that Alec’s a fan of classic toys. Magnus himself very much prefers toys that light up and make obnoxious noises and all around look fun.

Alec, by contrast, likes toy soldiers and spinning tops and toys that look more suited to what a character in a Dickens novel would have salivated over.

As he watches Alec absolutely lose his shit at a rather terrifying Jack in the Box, Magnus wonders who their kids will take back after. He doesn’t voice the sudden direction of his thinking and he’s quietly surprised to realize that the thought doesn’t make his heart squeeze in his chest painfully. No instead, it settles something in him.

Magnus can’t help but look over at Alec– his boyfriend, perhaps even his husband one day– and see the decades unfold. He can’t think of anything more adorable than a son with Alec’s stoic mannerisms or a daughter that loves potions and cooking as much as he does.

He blames Christmas for the sudden yearning that overtakes him and clears his throat when Alec looks back up at him. “I wish I’d had something like this when I was a kid,” he says and Magnus looks at the jack-in-the-box with suspicion.

“Out of all the toys you could pick, you want something that’s meant to scare people?”

“It’s colorful and a surprise and plays music. Really, hits all the requirements for a successful children’s toy.”

Magnus just eyes the toy warily and gently but inexorably guides Alec away from the toy booth. Alec lets him with a small smile and Magnus hides his grin in Alec’s shirt when he throws an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close.

They run into a row of ornament vendors and spend quite a while looking through ornaments of all shapes and sizes and materials.

“I had fun decorating the loft with you last week.”

Magnus looks up from where he’d been mulling over a stethoscope ornament for Catarina to see Alec gently lift a glass-blown orb from its hook. Taking the stethoscope with him, Magnus wanders over to Alec, replying, “I’m glad to hear that. It was fun trimming the tree with you, darling. I usually enjoy decorating by myself with one of my jazz records and a glass of wine but maybe I just needed to find the right helper,” he teases with a grin.

Alec laughs but most of his attention is still on the ornament. Coming to stand next to Alec, Magnus takes in the script on the front and his smile widens.

“Today only, we’re offering free engraving on all ornaments,” comes a voice behind them and Magnus turns around to see one of the employees approaching them. They’re dressed in holiday cheer with red bow earrings and an elf’s hat.

“Free engraving,” Alec repeats.

Taking the ornament gently from Alec’s hands, the staff member nods. “It’s usually a dollar a word but since it’s the first day of the fair, it’s our promotion.” She takes a second to read the ornament before looking back up at them with a smile. “Are you interesting in personalizing it?”

To his surprise, Alec speaks first. “Yeah, let’s add our names to it,” he says and looks to Magnus for confirmation.

Magnus looks over at Alec and sees that Alec’s already watching him with that damned look in his eye– like all he sees is Magnus.

“I think it only right that we have a memento of our first Christmas together, don’t you,” he asks softly.

He watches Alec’s eyes light up before he’s following the vendor to the engraving station to fill out an order form.

Magnus checks out with another employee in the meantime and meets Alec at the front of the shop just a few minutes later.

“Julia said that it’ll take about an hour to finish ours and we should come back later to pick it up.”

“Julia,” Magnus asks with a raised brow. “Don’t tell me you made a friend, Alexander.”

“Shut up” Alec mutters. “She was nice and mentioned that she had bought the same ornament for her girlfriend last week.”

Smiling, Magnus doesn’t say anything and the two of them wander around the market, though Magnus’s gaze zeroes in on a booth further up the thoroughfare. He comes to a stop in line and Alec shoots him a curious smile.

“Hot chocolate?”

Magnus hums, reading over the menu. “I only drink hot chocolate in December and this particular booth has the best cup I’ve ever had– and their marshmallows are in the shape of reindeer. Do you want some?”

“No, I think I’m going to head over to the mulled wine booth across from here.”

Magnus looks up as Alec steps away from him. “You’re choosing wine over hot cocoa? Over marshmallows and enough sugar to fell an elephant? You don’t even like alcohol,” Magnus says accusingly.

Laughing, Alec takes another step back. “The only alcohol I’ve ever enjoyed is mulled red wine. With the cinnamon stick? It’s like juice that makes me want to take a nap,” he says sheepishly.

“Very well, then. Leave and go get your nap juice. I’ll just be waiting for my dessert in a mug.”

Magnus sees Alec grin before he’s turning away to get his own drink. The line for the hot chocolate is long, though, and Alec sidles up to him just as he’s placed his order.

“Back so soon,” Magnus sniffs. “Maybe that’s a sign that hot chocolate is definitely the most popular Christmas drink.”

Alec just takes a sip of his wine, humming in satisfaction.

The sun has officially set by the time they make it back to the ornament stand and pick up their purchase. Magnus shivers a little in his coat, burying his nose in his scarf a little deeper.

Alec looks adorable with a red nose and ruddy cheeks and Magnus pauses at the edges of the fair to throw away his empty cup.

Before they can continue, though, he steps up to Alec and unwinds part of his scarf around Alec’s neck. For his part, Alec stands unmoving with a faint grin.

“You know we can’t walk like this,” he says dryly.

Magnus arches a brow. “I��m getting tired of you ruining all of my romantic gestures.”

Alec huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “I love your romantic gestures, just not when they get in the way of my food or when they become a tripping hazard.”

“And the say romance is dead,” Magnus mutters. Before he can say anything else, Alec is kissing him. It’s lingering and soft and when it ends Magnus doesn’t want to open his eyes.

“I have to keep you on your toes somehow, babe.”

Opening his eyes, Magnus grins at Alec before unwinding the rest of his scarf and looping it around Alec’s neck, hushing his protests.

“You look like an icicle, Alexander. I won’t have you catching a cold and ruining my plans in a few days.”

“Oh? And what are these plans you have that are more important that a potentially sick boyfriend?”

Narrowing his eyes, Magnus takes his hand and they start the walk back to the subway station. “I’ll have you know that I need to wrap your presents and I can’t do that if you’re in the apartment with me, now can I?”

“I guess,” Alec sighs dramatically though his lips are twitching at the corners.

The commute back to the loft is pleasant as it can be, considering they’ve taken the subway. Magnus immediately leaves his bags by the foyer and makes his way to their bedroom, Alec right behind him.

Changing into comfortable pajamas, they return to the living room, though Magnus grows confused when Alec goes to their bags.

“Leave that, darling. We can go through everything in the morning.”

Alec doesn’t listen and after a few minutes of rummaging, he pulls out the box, going right to the tree and turning it on before placing the ornament right in the middle.

Magnus walks over to him and studies the tree. While most assumed that Magnus would have an elegant Christmas tree with a classic theme, the truth was that he loved the chaotic potential of such a statement piece. He had ornaments from friends stretching back decades and there was popcorn string and multicolored lights and tinsel. Each and every thing on the tree was a memory for Magnus and his heart clutches a little at Alec’s new addition.

“Perfect,” he says, kissing Alec with the heat of the fire at his back.

“It’s our first Christmas living together,” Alec says as he looks over the tree, the colorful lights playing over his face.

“The first of many.”

Turning to the living room proper, Magnus stops Alec when he goes to sit on the couch.

With a wave of his hand, a dozen pillows and a mountain of blankets fall to the ground in front of the couch. Alec smiles but doesn’t protest and they settle onto the floor with the fireplace below the television providing them with a little extra warmth.

“What do you want to do for the rest of the evening, babe?”

Shifting closer to Alec, Magnus lays his head on his chest. “We could watch a movie if you–”

“Rudolph?”

Magnus tilts his head up to see Alec looking at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear there was a pleading note in his voice.

“You want to watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? The children’s movie? With that horrendous claymation?”

Alec scoffs. “Claymation is a gift that just just keeps on giving and it’s my favorite Christmas movie,” he admits.

“I had no idea you knew any Christmas movies, let alone animated ones.”

Magnus climbs to his feet and the dvd appears in his hand. He makes his way to the tv and places the disc in the player before returning to Alec who’s delightfully warm.

“It was on the television at the restaurant we went to that first Christmas, when we snuck out.” Alec shrugs and Magnus trails a hand over his chest as he continues, “It looked fun. It was silly and that dentist elf– Hermey– was weird but endearing?”

“Well, then, let’s watch it.”

Magnus settles over Alec again, relaxing into his boyfriend as Alec’s arm wraps around him, sweeping over his back.

The watch a cheesy movie and order in takeout and share a bottle of wine.

The perfect day, Magnus thinks with a drowsy smile.

The Christmas Fair was a staple for Magnus– he’d been going since the very first one all those years ago. As he lets himself fall asleep to the sound of Alec’s breathing, Magnus knows that he’s found that missing piece that makes this time of year all the more special.

Love. Alexander.

Magnus and AlexanderOur First Christmas2018

[captainsimagines]

RENT - PART 1

In which eight old friends in dire need move in together for one year. 

Warnings: language; heart attack; angst

A/N: AH! I’m back! I am so sorry I was gone for so long but I finished yet another quarter of college. The play went amazing, I believe I passed all my classes, and I here I am with another great idea for an Avenger’s series! I am basing it off the musical RENT, but the storyline is not going to be the same nor will the characters resemble those in the musical. I really hope you guys enjoy this series. These will be slow updates but hey, this feel good story is just in time for Christmas/holidays! I love you all!

PART ONE 

“Seasons of Love” - PART TWO

STEVE

“Guys, I really need to stop,” Steve panted, resting his palms on his bruising knees. Each breath was beginning to burn his chest, expanding and contracting in desperate spurts.

“Really, dude? This is the fifth freaking time in thirty minutes!”

Steve couldn’t assign the voice to a face nor did he care to do so at the moment. The longer he remained bent at the back resulted in new cramps spasming throughout his arm. Steve huffed a couple more times before he straightened himself, hissing at the massive headache he suddenly endured.

“Dude, are you okay?”

Before he could give a verbal response or a simple nod, Steve collapsed. Rapid shocks ran up his arm and to the middle of his chest, blistering his heart as it continued tormenting him. Wide-eyed and right hand over his heart, Steve gasped for just a sliver of air.

”Steve, you have to calm down to breathe!”

The whole gym seemed to be surrounding him, stealing the air he so desperately craved.

”I think he’s having a heart attack! Call an ambulance!”

Before he blacked out entirely, Steve managed to latch onto someone’s hand.

”Get Y/N.”

Y/N ran alongside the stretcher Steve was currently unconscious on. She stumbled over her own brain for a couple seconds trying to visualize the steps on how to save a heart attack victim. When they finally lifted his lifeless body onto a hospital bed, she quickly began with chest compressions. She counted them under your breath, searching Steve’s face for any sign of awakening.

“Step away!” another doctor yelled, stepping forward and shocking Steve once on both sides of his chest. The sight of her high school friend bouncing but remaining comatose had her stuttering. Y/N leaned forward and performed CPR, hoping the little oxygen she supplied was somehow enough.

“Clear!” Another shock and bounce but no result. She resumed CPR, cursing at Steve under her breath.

“C’mon, Steve. I didn’t know you that well but you can’t die on me,” she whispered, pinching his nose again and breathing into his mouth.

”Clear!”

Stepping away before the shocks came, Y/N clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. This could not be happening.

”Call it,” one of the doctors muttered, setting the equipment down. Without thinking twice, she reached over and rubbed the paddles together before shocking Steve herself.

”Doctor Y/L/N!”

Screams of protest vanished when Steve’s heartbeat became regular and steady again. She released a breath she had been holding in for Steve, the weight on her shoulders instantly lifted.

“You got lucky, Y/L/N.” She could only nod since an immense amount of relief was keeping her immobile. She waited until the nurses finished hooking Steve to the machines to lean over and push the hair away from his face.  

”What in the world happened to you?”

3 Years Later

“I’m fine,” Steve groaned while on the phone, rolling his eyes at his mother’s daily check-up. He bit his lip and smiled when she reminded him for the hundredth time during that one phone call alone to take his medication.

“Steve, honey. Don’t work yourself too hard, now.”

“I never do,” Steve said, finishing the sentence with a quick ‘I love you’ and goodbye. He hung up and returned to his recipe book, scanning the numerous healthy options that never seemed to peak his interest. Steve finally chose one and made it from scratch, leaning over the counter every couple seconds to make sure he didn’t forget an ingredient.

Munching on a piece of garlic bread, Steve let out a heavy and boring sigh. He ate silently, sitting outside on his small balcony overlooking Brooklyn. For such a crappy apartment, he sure did have an amazing view. He read the newspaper alone, busted a hundred push-ups and sit-ups alone, and even slept alone.

This was his life. Wake up and go for a morning jog only to come back to make a healthy meal that he didn’t share with anyone. Well, there is one person I could shar- no, no, Steve thought.

It was December 20th, five days until Christmas, and Steve was planning on spending that alone, also. He told his mother he had plans with friends. In all honesty, he didn’t want to see family these days. The overwhelming push to visit family was chasing him but he refused to acknowledge it. All he heard when he visited was a long string of “Well, you certainly don’t look like a guy who would have a heart attack!”, “Are you eating healthy?”, and “You still can’t find a job? How are you affording that place?”

The apartment was huge. It was definitely large enough to pack about fifty people. In the past three years, Steve could only hold a few jobs here and there, the strain of heavy work too dangerous. His employers would witness one mishap, that never had to do with Steve’s heart condition by the way, and fire him on the spot to avoid a potential lawsuit. He was barely paying his rent now, skipping a few months here and there only to ask for more time to gather some extra money. The landlord gave him every chance, but Steve knew his luck was running out.

By the time he returned to his apartment in the late hours of the night, he found that the electricity had been shut off.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his cold hands together. He marched up to the thermostat and whined, seeing that the current temperature was low enough to turn his balls blue- and not in the pleasant way.

Shuffling around each room, he snagged every blanket he could find. He wrapped himself up tightly, sitting on the couch and huffing loudly. No television, no electricity, and no heat. He just sat there, cheeks red and face angry.

Throwing the blankets to the floor and standing angrily, Steve dragged the trash bin to the middle of the room and grabbed his lighter. He piled up some of his old photographs- simple images of nature and animals that he took a while ago. He threw them all into the bin and lit them on fire, moaning in content by the sudden rush of heat.

That’s how he spent his whole night- rubbing at his hands and arms over the fiery trash bin, struggling to stay awake the whole time so he didn’t fuck up and burn the whole building down.

The next morning, December 21st, Steve rolled out of bed in pain. He clutched at his chest and rapidly searched for his medication on his bedside table, snapping the lid off and swallowing two pills. The pain continued for a few minutes before the medication kicked in, soothing his violent muscle spasms. Steve sat at the edge of his bed trying to control his breathing, eyes closed in concentration.

Sighing heavily, he carefully stood up and dressed in sweats. He decided to skip his morning jog because of his rude awakening, but he still opened that recipe book and struggled with breakfast.

______

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Banner asked, removing the stethoscope from each ear. Steve smiled at his doctor and gave him the same reply he always did.

”Could be better.”

“Anything new?” With his hands, Dr. Banner motioned for Steve to lay on his back. Steve obliged, groaning silently when the cold, plastic covering made him shiver.

“Shortness of breath, pains in the morning. The same thing,” Steve explained. Dr. Banner squeezed down and around Steve’s stomach, listening to Steve intently.

“Still taking your medication?” he asked, watching as Steve’s face scrunched when he ran his hand over his kidneys.

“Two pills, four times a day.”

“Good. You can sit up now.“

Steve pulled his shirt down and sat up, a thin smile printed on his face. For the past three years, Steve had been visiting Dr. Banner after his mother suggested it. He didn’t pay for his weekly to monthly check-ups. Without insurance or a plan at all, his mother was his guardian angel. Without a job even, it would be hard to pay anyway.

“Well, Steve. Your heart continues to struggle.” Steve sighed and bowed his head. “But, your lungs are getting better. Don’t start smoking, though.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Steve mumbled, smiling up at the man he had grown fond of.

“Oh, and I got that information you wanted from your last visit,” Dr. Banner said, jogging to his desk and pulling out a small index card.

“Oh, really? I thought she dropped off the face of the earth,” Steve chuckled, taking the index card from him.

“She kind of did.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Steve looked from his doctor to the address written in black ink.

“No, no. I know this address,” Steve shook his head. “Did you get her name right?”

“I did. Your friend works there now,” Dr. Banner chuckled, picking up a few files and organizing his desk.

“Um, Y/N Y/L/N,” Steve drawled out, still not believing the man in front of him. Dr. Banner let out another laugh and simply nodded.

“Your friend, Y/N Y/L/N, the person who saved your life,” Dr. Banner leaned over and tapped the card in Steve’s hand. “She works there now.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, unable to form another sentence. With that, he thanked Dr. Banner one last time and went back home. 

____

After finishing dinner, Steve took his camera out from under his bed and decided to go for his daily walk. With the index card tucked into his jacket, Steve left his apartment in a rush.

Dressed in an oversized coat, a heavy scarf, pants that were a little too short on him, his winter boots, and his camera strapped around his neck, Steve walked at a steady pace. He counted each step to make sure he wasn’t going to fast, afraid his heart wouldn’t catch up. He snapped a couple pictures here and there of anything that caught his eye- trees, the sky, a fashionable teenager, anything.

Once he arrived at the address, he couldn’t bring himself to open the front door. Each time he would reach out to pull it open, someone would exit rapidly. Jittery about the whole situation, Steve simply ran his hand through his air and cleared his throat, as if he wasn’t just about to enter the run-down establishment. He sucked in a breath of cold air, however, and reached for the door handle once again. As if saving him from yet another embarrassing encounter, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

”Hey, man.”

Steve turned away from the front doors and quickly fixed his phone to his ear. The smile on his face was sure enough permanent.

“Bucky?”

”So, you remember my voice? Sweet,” Bucky chuckled causing Steve to smile wider if that was even possible.

“I haven’t heard from you since you returned from the war!” Steve stated, turning around and heading back to his apartment, his original plans thrown out of his clouded mind.

”There was a reason.” Steve was about to ask what he meant by that but Bucky continued speaking. “Listen, I need a favor.”

Steve jogged up the stairs but stopped right in front of his apartment door. With a quiet sigh, he tore the eviction warning down and crumbled it up. “Yeah, anything!”

”I need a place to stay for a while.”

Steve unlocked his door and nodded to himself, forgetting that Bucky couldn't hear his approval. “No problem. One question, though: You got rent money?”

“You got another question?” Steve laughed as well, giving Bucky his address and telling him goodbye.

A knock at his front door snapped him out of his boyish excitement. Throwing open the door, Steve gave his next door neighbor a bright smile.

“Hey, Peggy!”

Peggy cleared her throat and scanned Steve up and down quickly, matching Steve’s wide smile. “Hi, Steve!”

The quiet pause had Steve scrunching his eyebrows. Before he could ask what she wanted, Peggy held out a flyer. “Sorry, I just wanted to drop this off.”

Steve took the flyer from her hand and read the bold writing. “It’s a flyer for my dance recital on New Year’s Eve. I was hoping you could make it.”

Peggy rocked back and forth on her feet, her heart stammering with every motion of Steve’s occupied eyes.

“This sounds amazing! I’ll definitely be there,” Steve smiled, holding the flyer close to his chest. Peggy held in a squeal, nodding slightly as her response.

“Really? Thank you so much.”

“Anything for my best girl,” Steve joked, leaning against the doorframe. Peggy breathed into her chilly hands and chuckled.

“I’ll talk to you later. Thank you, again Steve.”

“Hey,” Steve said before Peggy left. “Can I bring a friend?“

Peggy swallowed thickly, afraid Steve’s friend was of the female species. “That would be great!“

Steve did a little cheer and told her goodnight, waiting until Peggy entered her apartment to shut his door. 

Steve snuggled up in a dozen blankets that night, not that it was any different from any other night. Still, Steve didn’t quite realize that his apartment was about to become a lot warmer in the next few days than he thought possible. A warm Christmas.

”525,600 minutes, how do you measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

In cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laugher and strife.”

TAG LIST: (tell me if you want to be tagged!)

@4theluvofall @ihavemymomentsstill 

[furederiko]

"A universe without Naga... I can't even imagine it" Can Balance save his BFF, and bring him back into the light? Kyuranger's 31st episode delivers the answer, and it's a tearful one...

- Expecting a utopian present after defeating the real Don Armage proves to be a wishful thinking. According to Hammy, everything remains the same and Jark Matter's reign is still at large. In a way, it also feels that our heroes is losing more winning this war. The team is no longer the 12 members unit as it was with Commander Xiao and Champ being left behind 333 years ago in the past. And they don't only lose one, but seemingly two Orions: the warrior who gave up his life to give Lucky the miracle power-up, and ORION the spaceship that is heavily damaged due to the time travel trip. - Things aren't faring better for the 'Save Naga' team either. Ever since Lucky went to the past, Balance has gone MIA, and both the Blues were captured by Dark-Naga and Akyanba. Dark-Naga is now using Garu and Kotarou as baits to lure out Balance, because he wants to "get rid of him, personally". Ouch! On the opposite side, Echidna is still determined to eliminate Naga. Since this new formation of Kyuranger also refuses to aide her, she decides to do it alone. Which is obviously NOT a wise choice. - The battle between Ophiucus Metal and Echidna is shortlived, but it does get pretty dark. The former now has the ability to take control her body with his freezing ray! Great goodness, he's only mere seconds away from making Echidna kills herself!!! Thankfully the Kyurangers (sans Raptor and Stinger) arrive just in time to prevent that. Pursuing his goal, Ophiucus Metal specifically targets Libra Gold, and unleashes the Black Hole Kyu Globe to eliminate him. Leo Red jumps in to protect Libra Gold... and, the two of them are obliterated. Wait... WHAT? - Well, if you somehow sense the over-the-top "Mamma Miaaaaa!!!" reactions of the other Kyurangers feel... bizarre, then you're totally not alone. And no, it also doesn't mean that the director simply forgot to tell these actors to act. This scene was nothing more than a deliberate ruse! A brilliant one at that. Beside, Kyuranger has pulled off many emotional scenes that were waaaaay better executed than this, so clearly something is amiss. - But seriously, what happens to Leo Red and Libra Gold, then? This is where things get faux-sciency. Turns out, Balance hasn't been sulking or sobbing in a bar, making himself wasted due to the loss of his BFF (unlike... a certain someone I'm familiar with). All these time, he has been actively working for a solution: analyzing the people who were also 'emotionally' affected by Akyanba, and tweaking the Microscopium Kyu Globe as the tool required for his big rescue plan. Last we saw this Skill Kyu Globe in action, Raptor used it to detect the 'microscopical Mothma' affecting ORION's control. With Balance's special add on, the Kyu Globe not only magnifies object, but actually gives its user the ability to SHRINK down into microscopical size! Ladies and gentlemen, Kyuranger had just officially gone "ANT-MAN" on us. Marvel-ous surprise. LOL. Fun fact: the same episode that debuted Microscopium, also had Naga as 'victim' to a supposed-crime incident. In actuality, we all knew he only passed out while practicing expressions in front of the mirror! At the time, it was set as a silly humor. But was that really a coincidence, knowing this episode revisits the same Kyu Globe, while also trying to rescue Naga as a victim? Hmmm... I don't think so. - You see, there's a faux-scientific reason to why Akyanba's victim got emotionally warped. Turns out, she planted microscopic Indavers into their brains, and they messed around with their nerves (remember, emotions are triggered by particular neurons. That's actual science...). Don't get the wrong idea though, Naga DID have his emotions unlocked by the Vice-Shogun. He wasn't mind-controlled, and still accepted Akyanba's offer on his own free will. But at the same time, Akyanba also infected him with the same 'virus' that caused every victims to go berserk, hence the aggressive result. It all made sense! I can't believe I didn't realize this sooner, when the evidence (the civillians? duh...) has always been there in plain sight. That's brilliant writing, I say. - As Lucky and Balance cleans up the Indavers that are twisting Naga's neurons, the other Kyurangers are also able to track their location to free Garu and Kotarou. Now, the 'BRAIN' setting is where things get a bit... surreal and/or metaphorical. When Balance is approaching 'Good Naga' to free him, Malistrate Microtsuyo-Indaver stops him and seemingly summons 'Dark-Naga' to the place. This is NOT actually happening in reality, because the real flesh and blood Dark-Naga is still on the ground, guarding his two captives. Simply put, Balance is fighting the 'virus', or negative conscience that takes the form of 'Dark-Naga', so he can free the body's positive conscience (something like... immunity system, perhaps?) that's taking the form of 'Good Naga'. Get it? - Then again, understanding this tricky metaphor shouldn't really be much an issue. I'm sure any audience would pretty much be carried away by their own emotions, that they don't have time to nitpick or pointlessly analyze (like what I've been doing LOL). Seriously, if you don't feel an inch of pain and sadness or concern as you see Balance taking all the hits, even throwing away his own life to protect 'Good Naga'... then you probably don't have a heart. This scene is heartfelt and moving, and amplified to the optimum when the other Kyurangers (with Hammy as the lead) begin calling out Naga's name to 'come back'. No kidding. Those flowing tears from his eyes? Dang it, the feels. And that flashback of him wanting emotions so he can cry or be angry? Aaaaaw... THE FEELS!!! T_T - Of course the rescue plan would be a success. 'Good Naga' champions over 'Dark-Naga' to protect Balance, winning back the control over his emotions. It's basically a "Persona 4" situation of fighting their own demons/shadows. Naga himself chose to have emotions, so it's him who needs to choose and filter how it would take shape of. But there's one more surprise to the outcome. Naga gets to keep his power-up in tact!!! After the BN Thieves team up to take down Microtsuyo-Indaver (who grows giant... into regular size. Comedy gold. LOL), Ophiucus Silver transforms into benevolent Ophiucus Metal! He then uses the Black Hole Kyu Globe, combining Leo Red Orion's "All Star! In-Finish Blast" with his "Metal Ophiucus Crash" to defeat Akyanba. Other Kyurangers then use their own finishers. Everyone (just 6 members) form Kyutamajin to deal with giant Ophiucus Metal, a manifestation of Dark-Naga's rage that has built up inside Microtsuyo-Indaver's body. The Vice-Shogun walks out alive, but the battle is still won. NOTE: Leo Red Orion's space manipulation to create portals in battle is wicked-awesome to see in action. The scarf/mantle part is really effective to add flare in battles. Even in stage performance, as evidenced by the G-Rosso's theatre footage that was aired during commercial breaks. However, the dearly-missed reunion of Libra Gold and Ophiucus Silver naturally sucks up all the attention and glory. It's just really good to see the BN Thieves together again, am I right? That includes taking the spotlight in that ending sequence. As for Ophiucus Metal, worth noted that it's pretty rare for recent Sentai series to assign power-up to a non-Red member. The last one whom I recall received similar treatment was Super StarNinger who achieved a new poncho thanks to the Gekiatsutou. - The closing scene takes us back to another heartfelt moment. Despite his carefree facade, Balance can no longer hold back his feelings, and cries his heart out for Naga. Such a moving scene. Aaaaw... the feels. Dang it, Kyuranger! Dang it. Echidna witnesses this teary celebration, and attests that everyone is strong because of their emotions. I WAS kind of expecting her to have a more important role, perhaps a twist of her being someone's close to Naga or something. Alas, that turns out not to be the case. I'm definitely not disappointed or anything, but it's still a potential that could've been explored. Then again, before heading home, she decides to let Naga's supposed 'treasons' slide. Since Naga is off the hook, does this mean Echidna has a change of heart? After all, he does prove that having emotion isn't that much of a threat for people from the Ophiucus System... as long as one can contain it to focus only on the positive sides. I wonder if this turn of event will encourage change to their home planet? - Celebration time! Unfortunately, this celebratory mode is not fully shared by everyone in the room. One particular Kyuranger, is firmly setting her sight on another pressing matter: the ORION's condition. That's the story for another day...

Overall: This tearjerker episode had a tough task, coming out after a powerful entry that was last week's episode. Comparison between both episodes, particularly for nitpickers like yours truly, would be inevitable. In general however, I personally call this a success. It had a fine balance of tone shift that wondrously transitioned from emotional moments, to humor and action in between without ever breaking the flow. The 'Evil Ranger' arc was wrapped nicely, and it was crucially tied to the next plot right away. More importantly, the minor/personal arcs of both Balance and Naga that began since their debut, were given a sweet and wonderful closure. The BN Thieves are bounty and treasure hunters, so it's heartwarming to know that the ultimate treasure they have been looking for, has always been close by all along. Balance discovered, realized, and acknowledged that the greatest treasure he could ever wanted, was none other than the BFF he cared and trusted the most. While Naga's desire to acquire true emotions was obtained, fulfilled through darkness, but only made full circle with the selfless love and help of his BFF. The pair complemented and strengthened each other, proving why they were always meant to work as a duo, and not solo. Not unlike Chewbacca, and Han Solo, right? Next week: Story of Raptor & dear uncle ORION PS: TV-Nihon has released their fansub for the first episode of "High School Wars". Word of advice though, you might want to postpone any desire to see it. Do NOT watch it until late October, unless you're okay having the next four episodes (episode 32 to 35) to be potentially spoiled. The mini web-series works as a coupling to V-Cinema "Episode of Stinger", which according to report, takes place around episode 35. So it's probably best to avoid "High School Wars" accordingly as well, at least until episode 35 airs.

Episode 31 Score: 8,2 out of 10

Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: September 27th, 2017 - Version 2.15. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)

All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

[togetherinsolitude]

I write to you from the night’s solitude in the privacy of my home. Although I’ve been self-isolating since the 12th of march, my first diary entrance mentioning the pandemic was on the 24th. This virus made a globally shared awareness and reality that I’ve been busy failing trying to escape. So I have been quiet, spending a lot of time in my head, which has its own special pleasures and terrible nightmares. At this point, I have said little in response when it comes to the crisis, although I have been listening a lot in the sudden boom of zoom and jitsi meetings. So let me share my thoughts on this topic that I dread to you here, in an attempt to be together with you and co-exist for a while.

So, I am staying at home these days. I am grateful to have a home where I feel safe, loved and warm. My thoughts are often with those who are locked in with their abusers, with the question of battling domestic violence. I don’t know what else to do than spread the info of hotlines and shelters online and plaster them on the streets.

For me, my home is where I can be with and alone at the same time. It’s one of my places for solitude and privacy. For many I guess, like those with kids, a bit of privacy is rare. I don’t think my upstairs neighbors get much of that these days, with five little monsters stuck inside their three room apartment. I need solitude to stay sane and happy, like I need solitude’s opposite too. That is a harder to come by these days. Of course, I miss going out and being around my friends and family, but at the same time it’s like we’re actually talking more than we used to. For a while, I felt frozen since plans I had are not possible now, worse, they didn’t seem to be relevant anymore or even make sense. It will remain frozen I guess, until this thing has blown over.

At the moment, here in the Netherlands we are three weeks into the Corona measures, but we don’t really experience a heavily enforced lock down. We can still go outside, we’re not allowed to school together or move around in groups larger than three, but I haven’t seen any cops giving out fines yet where I live. There are no megaphones every hour urging people to stay indoors like in Spain and Italy. Most of us are just following government’s advice. Few people are wearing masks, not even in the hospitals, only the ones working with the corona patients. People look at you strange when wear one, I’m wondering how to make it hip, because you cannot know when you carry something and it’s better to be safe than sorry. I saw a woman in the market yesterday who was selecting lemons wearing a glove. The alcohol sprayed on the bars of the obligated shopping carts rubs off on people’s hands, but I don’t think it’s enough to keep all the germs at bay. They don’t clean the produce and so I thought it was a nice gesture of her.

The Dutch government has been terribly slow in responding to this crisis for which we have been warned so well in advance. These white people are acting superior as usual, thinking they are untouchable using words like ‘intelligent lockdown’, as if the Dutch are smarter than everyone else in the world, meanwhile ignoring good practices and experiences from the Asian countries who already passed the peak of this crisis. There is some security for those of us with the right residency permits, to fall into a shadow of the dwindling welfare state’s social net that is still catching many who end up not being able to work with special measures for freelancers. Yes, it is weird how they conjured up all that money to give to the people not working right now. Since that kind of money is just there, then why can’t we just get the basic income? No matter how wealthy this country is, our government refuses to support the southern European states. Ikke ikke ikke en de rest kan stikken, or me me me and the rest can choke. Another crisis, another selfish response from the stupid people in power.

The prime minister and his liberal party is gaining support, even my mother who despises the party thinks he’s doing well. I haven’t watched any of his press conferences, cannot stand their voices speaking with those potatoes in their throats. They’re still just fascists to me, hiding under their polite smiles, saying suddenly there is a society, while they built for no such thing. Their hypocritical faces nauseate me, as they’re praising the health care workers whose budgets they’ve been cutting and cutting for years on end, as if they haven’t been exploiting all these “essential” workers of the world, these people they call low-skilled in normal times while they continue to break down them and the other workforce they depend on from our undocumented circuits. I haven’t heard anything about whether the Dutch state is still deporting refugees, in Germany at least last week they were still organizing flights to Iran for that. The family prison in Zeist, whose function is literally to keep the strangers locked up (vreemdelingen bewaring), remains open 24/7, although their services and hours may differ due to COVID-19. I wonder if they wear any masks or stopped sharing cells.

A few days ago, when I was biking through the city center after almost three weeks at home, I saw there were still shops open selling trinkets, clothes and chocolate. What’s essential next to food? The local feminist bookshop took to delivering and reading out loud online, the anarchist library opens a window for pick up on the weekends and set up a solidarity kitchen serving free food every day. Most of the food supply to the homeless people in the city is cut off. The municipality is championing the volunteers for picking up their slack, without acknowledging they are slacking when it comes to support the vulnerable groups. The shop that sells the wool I like is closed, so I’m making due with what I have left. My mother thinks I’m bored out of my mind and had a puzzle delivered to our apartment. At some point I picked up an audiobook and let myself disappear to a world with witches and dragons, feeling like a teenager again, while looping soft threads of wool with a hook to make a waffled scarf. What’s the English word for crochet? in French from croc means hook, from Dutch too it translates as hooking. What’s the word?

I don’t mind the at home life. Although it’s hard facing the demons of my administration, I think I’m skilling up in my reproductive work, yes, taking care and trying to find structure, tweaking my rhythm. We started making plans for food in advance, are cooking most days and doing the laundry regularly instead of it piling up for weeks. I’ve even been consistently picking up all the stuff I tend to leave behind me in trails. I’m up late, but sleep as long as I like. Anyhow, it’s not a bad thing to slow down, it’s been a revolutionary cry for almost a century, because slowing down is a strategy to resist, refuse, rattle and collapse this sick system we live under. I wouldn’t mind to keep this part of how the virus has affected me, giving me time to rest and reflect when I thought I didn’t need it.

Now, I’ll have to think about work again, but since I don’t need the money, I promised myself to take things easy for a while. In the first week of isolation, I rearranged our guest room to make another place to work aside from the living room table. It’s not finished yet, because the table needs screws and also extra shelves would be nice. I want to go buy those things, but don’t want to go to the construction market and line up with all those other people. Infections are rising and we don’t have enough tests and beds for all those people that are going to get sick. So far, it’s mostly the south struggling and there are still beds in the north.

Better don’t risk contamination before things are past the peak. Patience never hurt anyone.

5 april, Utrecht