#fun fact! apparently in dream of the red chamber

[voidfragments]

≈: medicine (for hong lu, and from faust if you'd like to include her :) )

by all rights, hong lu should be in bed right now. granted, they could be sicker (it seems to be just a bad cold and a fever), but still, they could get the whole bus sick like this--something they've already been scolded for, especially from the angle of "do you really want to get charon sick, vergilius would kill you and not let dante bring you back". but alas, if they're going to be miserable, they'd rather be miserable somewhere other than an isolated room that reflects their mental state, and so they'd insisted on staying out in the actual bus with everyone else. at the very least, they've moved from their usual aisle seat, taking over ryoshu's seat in the back row instead and leaning against the window (the cool glass feels nice against their flushed face, though charon's reckless driving has them bumping against it fairly often).

they're half-zoned out, staring out the window, so it takes them a second to notice faust offering something to them. is it a trick of the light as they blink sluggishly, or has even the bright teal of their eye faded with a sickly pallor?

...oh, that's cold medicine. they offer a small smile to faust as they accept it with a, "thank you, faust." they cough, then say, "it's strange, i never got sick like this back home... though, we haven't exactly stuck to the most sanitary areas. i suppose this was inevitable."

(not-really-a-)starter meme | @peachrote

[crow-in-a-teapot]

tower of nero spoilers

i have just finished the tower of nero. and before i go searching for other people’s thoughts and art and more of the characters i love so much, i want to write down some of my own thoughts because i know as soon as i delve into that ‘ton spoilers’ hashtag there are going to be complaints and criticisms and so much that i don’t want to hear, or essays that’ll make me upset, or things that’ll change my perception on the book (because on this website people really love to hate the trials of apollo).

i want to start with: i loved it. it didn’t feel earth-shattering or huge and momentous like some of my favourite riordanverse books (house of hades, the blood of olympus, the last olympian and maybe some of the magnus chase books take those pedestals for me) but it was satisfying. and i think it was satisfying because it in no way felt like an ending. whether because eventually rick will write that will-and-nico-go-through-tartarus-and-save-bob novella, or because we (or at least i) will continue writing and imagining and creating for this world i don’t know. he didn’t wrap up the story in a perfect little bow like ‘nineteen years later’, he simply put it on pause. gave us a glimpse of where every character was at at the end.

the only thing that makes me so angry and upset is that i did manage to get some spoilers for moments that i know would have been so good to experience for the first time if i hadn’t been spoiled for them. the moment where rachel mentions penguins in a mansion near her house, nico getting mental health advice from mr d, the fact that will and nico were going to be in the book for so much of the story, but the big thing was literally spoiled for me two days ago, it was the reason i sat down to read it as fast as possible because i was terrified of getting more spoiled and not being able to experience the moments for myself, was that piper had a girlfriend. i know that reading that for the first time would have been so cool and surprising, and the fact that when it came up for a moment in the last couple pages all i felt was disappointment because it was spoiled for me and because it was now tinged with whatever that person was saying about her having a girlfriend.

but i still had some warm fuzzy moments, the two parts where apollo thinks he’s going to die but nico comes up behind him - so good. impeccable. 

Leader Guy spat. ‘Now, I kill you.’

He raised his sword... and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands. 

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

and

Nero raised his hand, ready to give the kill command, when behind me a mighty BOOM! shook the chamber. Half our enemies were thrown off their feet. Cracks sprouted in the windowsand the marble columns. Ceiling tiles broke, raining dust like split bags of flour. 

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

gods. poetic brilliance. i can’t believe i’m still a nico di angelo stannie in the year 2021. in five years i have not changed (ever since the tv show announcement last summer i have managed to morph into myself from 2017)

from here i’m not sure where to go next i kind of want to go through everything, except it’ll be more difficult than my tyrant’s tomb reaction because i wasn’t reading on a kindle and thus can’t just do funny little reactions to screenshots of quotes, so i’ll just skim through the book page by page and see what i can comment on (i’m not planning on doing analysis today, no thank you, just enjoying the end of my childhood and trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible)

i have an emotional attachment to mr. snake from the very first chapter, and am very upset that he’ll never get off on his baltimore stop and get to see his wife, lu had no reason to shoot and kill him like that.

that brings me to lu, i liked her, it was interesting to see how rick kind of brought in not only the overarching theme of abuse, but also people who let the abuse happen, i have more i could say on this i’m too lazy to right now, and i promised no analysis - or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show non-lethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than - oh, I don’t know - refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors. 

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to opppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.

the parallels to meg and lester heading to percy’s apartment, and then to camp half blood to the hidden oracle was so cool to read, every callback to the hidden oracle just there to remind us readers exactly how far apollo has come and how he’s changed; the entire chapter with sally, paul and estelle just felt sickly sweet, it just didn’t seem real how wholesome and good that family is, like i get why apollo broke down and just sobbed in that shower.

also rick really saying acab again in toa, i thought he was done after that elf cop chapter in magnus chase (the magnus chase series is a masterpiece) but apparently not, with A ‘good cop’ is still a cop... still a part of the mind game.

the grey sisters, i forgot about them completely but this threw me back into was it the sea of monsters when annabeth summoned them? i’m not sure, it could have been the lightning thief either, they really remind me of the disney hercules movie. the whole ganymede paragraph was gold, i love gods being canonically confirmed lgbt in the riordanverse. i also love the whole eye-tossing part - 

‘He will crush our eye,’ Anger cried, ‘if we don’t recite our verses!’

‘I will not!’

‘We will all die!’ Wasp said. ‘He is crazy!’

‘I AM NOT!’

‘Fine, you win!’ Tempest howled.

also, the explanation for why dionysus chooses to look the way he does was perfect, because it was something i often wondered about and wasn’t expecting to get an explanation for, and i imagine the whole mythological dionysus to look like.. well like a more feminine apollo i guess, beautiful in a gender non-comforming way.

Other Olympians could never comprehend why Dionysus chose this form when he could look like anything he wanted. In ancient times, he’d been famous for his youthful beauty that defied gender.

... 

In retaliation, Dionysus had decided to look and act as ungodly as possible. He was like a child refusing to tuck in his shirt, comb his hair or brush his teeth, just to show his parents how little he cared.

every scene with nico at camp just BREAKS ME, i would throw in screenshots of every damn quote but unfortunately, as said above, cannot and would rather not type every one; we’ll start with, obviously apollo confirming to him that jason is dead. 

He didn’t look angry exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

ugh then will talking about how nico’s doing, confirming that he’s suffering with ptsd, mr d giving him advice, helping him sort though what voices in his head are real and which ones aren’t, then the paragraph that just recounts every horrific thing poor nico has been through, how will has to reassure him that he’s okay and ‘with friends’ when he wakes up after shadow travel

will’s kindness to apollo, buying him clothes, and apollo finding seymour the leopard’s head in his bed, put there by mr d aaaa AAAA A A A A A THE ORDINARY, EVERYDAY CAMP HALF BLOOD THINGS..

i could go on for years and years about how much i appreciate rachel having a big role in this book, and the visit to her apartment, everything, her art, the fact that she got what she wanted, she’s going to PARIS to study ART, she isn’t forced to be someone she’s not by her dad, and gets to be a big part of a demigod mission and not stand on the sidelines for once.

i love that her landscapes are still visions, that she still paints the quests demigods go on - the burning maze, jason’s funeral pyre, caligula’s ships; and how nico ~appreciates art~

‘And, hey, di Angelo -’ she pushed him playfully away from the canvas he’d been ogling - ‘don’t brush against the art! I don’t care about the paintings, but if you get any colour on you, you’ll ruin that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.’

i. love. rachel.

WILL GLOWS!! THE HEADCANONS FROM LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO THAT YOU’D SEE FLOATING AROUND ABOUT HIM MANIPULATING LIGHT!! CONFIRMED!! CANON!! AMAZING

I AM  OBSESSED WITH THE TROGS, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE GREAT, not gonna lie, i was expecting something more dramatic and spooky with how worried will was and how dionysus was going.. visiting the cavern-runners isn’t ♫ good for your mental health  ♫ but the little hat frog gremlins were a good addition. i like them very much and their funky little soup shenanigans. quoting the ghost king himself: trogs good. nice hats. (IM SORRY I KEEP MENTIONING HIM BUT I JUST) also how apollo starts wishing for breadsticks a s ajoke and theY STRAIGHT UP HAVE BREADSTICKS? HUH? WHERE DID THEY GET THE BREADSTICKS FROM??

yeah, i’m also still very much upset by every mention of jason grace, it’s funny how ever since his death in the burning maze i have grown to love him more and more and that’s not fun for me, for that boy to become one of my main comfort character’s and have his death and sacrifice and nobility mentioned every few chapters. i’m pretty sure i cried when he appeared to talk in apollo’s dreams, and this time the tears weren’t from the effort of keeping my eyes open and working for hours straight reading this book (i remember staying up until 2am to finish the sequel to beautiful, broken things, it was very much worth it)

‘All right, Jason. We miss you, though.’

ALSO. THE FACT THAT THIS KID. THIS CHILD. HAD TO THINK ‘BUT IF A HERO ISN’T READY TO LOSE EVERYTHING FOR A GREATER CAUSE, IS THAT PERSON REALLY A HERO?’ A KID ISN’T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT THAT AND BE READY TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD,, i,, ugh,, he’s supposed to be finishing school and designing temples not being the perfect hero and soldier,, spain without the s,,

as @couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name said: ‘thinking about how ghost! Jason didn’t seem to understand why Apollo was so upset about his death because he’s been raised to believe a hero’s sacrifice is noble and his life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme and also if he doesn’t understand why the person who watched him get horrifically killed is so torn up over his death he probably doesn’t even realize his other friends are grieving him..’

IM SO UPSET THE ARROW OF DODONA IS DEAD D: IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ALL THE FUNNIEST MOMENTS WERE BECAUSE OF THAT ARROW AND IT'S DEATH WAS SO SAD WTH LIKE WE FIND OUT HOW USELESS THE ARROW FELT AND HOW THE GROVE OF DODONA ALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CRAP AND WOULD FAIL APOLLO AND THEN ONCE WE FEEL BAD FOR IT, IT DIES??

the entire python battle was pretty grim, there is a part of me that's like because this is the last book series i would have loved say the magnus chase and kane chronicles gang in a giant battle with everyone like the battle of manhattan but even more dramatic, but even so, i did appreciate that python battle and the whole almost-falling-into-the-depths-of-tartarus thing.

him talking to artemis was cool, but JESUS: 'I turned and strode out of my room, trying to recall how the god Apollo walked.' like that HURTS. it was such a huge culture shock for apollo to go throught this huge character arc and be so human and understand the pain of others, to be around gods again who are so.. apathetic. also, zeus. 'Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let's be honest: some fathers don't deserve that. Some aren't capable of it.'

OKAY OKAY SO THE END?? CHIRON TALKING TO A CAT (BAST) AND A SEVERED HEAD (MIMIR) ABOUT SHARED PROBLEMS WITHIN THE PANTHEONS!! WILL AND NICO RECEIVING A PROPHECY FROM RACHEL TO GO TO TARTARUS AND SAVE BOB!! THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS, INCLUDING THALIA AND REYNA BEING BEST FRIENDS (qpr.. qpr..) HUNTING THE TEUMESSIAN FOX!! PERCY, ANNABETH AND GROVER, THE ORIGINAL TRIO, GOING ON A CHAOTIC ROAD TRIP TOGETHER!! - SO MANY STAND-ALONE SET -UPS PFSJSJSJ

okay quick word on the reunions at the end: funny little elephant visitation program with livia and hannibal. love that for them. calypso and leo's relationship seems rocky and complicated, but that's to be expected, i think even if they do get properly back together again it might not last long, because it does pretty much feel like a teenage relationship where the two aren't very compatible, but we'll see. hazel and frank are so funny with their gold plated necklaces. lavinia - tap-dance icon. almost cried at the mention of jason's temple-extension plan again. percy not being sure about what he wants to do in college is accurate and i like that that's left to be up-for-interpretation (rick does THE MOST for the fanfic writers pfsjsj). i am OBSESSED with aeithales, like i hate deserts so the burning maze setting is not my favourite but GOD that HOUSE, the vibes are off-the-charts. i'd love a house made of living trees that's also a greenhouse filled with dryads. meg gets a unicorn. that is so great.

i kind of wish the book hadn't ended with 'Call on me. I will be there for you.' because every time I imagine the friends theme song and i don't think that's the vibe he was going for, BUT i do love him talking to meg, that was genuinely emotional - 'You'll come back?' she asked. 'Always,' I promised. 'The sun always comes back.' ; i really wish it had ended with that, but i guess apollo does tend to break fourth walls and talk to the readers, like a lot of the protagonists of riordanverse books.

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter I

AN: Hi my lovely fellows! I’m making a Kurapika x reader! This will be the first chapter. Overall I’m trying my best for you to insert yourself in the story as good as you can. However, some point who are going to be relevant in the plot a little further, like (Y/n)’s age, Profession and first language have been modified.This is my debut as a fanfiction writer here on tumblr! 

As now, I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the first chapter of my story. (Second coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 783

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 am The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears. The same noise as every morning. Another day to go on. He woke up with this peculiar feeling, but so familiar to him. That unnamed pain hit him again as his senses started to stir. The bed beneath him felt cold and foreign. The morning was dull to him. Seeking to shake the feeling away, he sat up and stretched. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes burned. Just another morn after a terrible night with limited sleep and disagreeable dreams. That tiredness was omnipresent in his life for the last months.  He immediately saw the space that wrapped him. Empty, just the drawer, nightstand, a lamp, and blank white walls. Finally, getting up from the bed and arranging the also white sheets. Going to the drawer and pulling out his work uniform; a white shirt, black trousers, black tie, and a black jacket. Taking his loose pajama pants and shirt off and starting to button the white shirt. Thinking annoyed at how he had to abide another day Neon dramatically said how sad, miserable, and lonely she felt. The fairly frustrating attitude she had been insisting on the last weeks. What did she know about misery and solitude? Once dressed, he left his bedroom to the tiny hall of his apartment. Leading to the small room alongside his. The big black door remained in front of him. He stared at it for a moment. A certain doubt in his mind made its presence. Lastly, he opened the door, glancing at the scarlet eyes floating on the jars displayed in the room, and closed the door. The emptiness seemed greater than the last morning. He wondered one more time while putting his shoes on, what did he yearn? What did he lack to feel once more this abyss? He stepped outside his home and took a deep breath, the swampy air feeling his lungs. And head straight to the Nostrade mansion. He passed the big entrance gate, the security of the Nostrade's residence, and arrived at the main room. Unlike what Kurapika might have thought moments ago, there was something new that morning. An unknown person was sitting on one of the multiple couches, apparently waiting. Wich piqued his curiosity. Their guise was quite formal and unique, white cigarette bottoms and a moss-green long-sleeved sweater with a white dress shirt underneath. However, the shirt's collar was embroidered with a peculiar decoration. A botanic motif of tiny red, yellow and blue flowers plus green leaves was along the tip of the collar. Naturally, Kurapika carefully observed the intruder to determine if it was a possible menace. The individual had (long/short/medium/ with bangs) (curly/straight/wavy)(hair color) hair; it was loose and a bit messy. Some strands were framing their face. Their body had a juvenile apparent, around one or two years younger than him however their face looked more childlike. Their gaze was lowered into the book, so Kurapika was unable to see the eyes. He just saw the (long/short) eyelashes moving with the occasional blinks the person gave and some eye bags from fatigue.   They were sitting with their legs crossed, one hand was holding the book, and the other was rubbing the green fabric of the sweater between the index and the thumb. They gave an overall serene aura. It wasn't long before a butler came near Kurapika. -"Mr.Kurapika, Sir. Nostrade requested to have the young guest to his office. For security reasons Sir. Nostrade wants one of the bodyguards to watch over the guest. Please take them there." Kurapika agreed with a quick "understood" and made his way towards the outsider. Kurapika stopped in front of the sitting figure. "Excuse me, Mx"- The person reading gave a slight quiver in surprise to immediately put the book down and look up at him with a subtle and soft smile. Despite looking up at him, they didn't look directly into his eyes, fixing more in his mouth.- "Mr.Nostrade charged me to take you to his office, please accompany me." he addressed the outsider with a secure tone. "Hello, and thank you" was the quiet response the stranger gave him. Getting up and ranging the book in a black side bag. "This way." The person quietly followed behind him through the hallway, examining the distinct decorations and pieces of furniture all over the mansion. Once the both of them arrived at the office's door, Kurapika gave a knock, letting their attendance be known, followed by a grave "Come in" from Light Nostrade. Kurapika rapidly opened the door and entered the room. At the center of the room was Light Nostrade, sitting at his big wooden desk. Accompanying the desk, a coffee table and matching sofas were placed over a luxurious carpet. In one of the sofas, Neon was sitting playing with one of her stuffed toys. Mr. Nostrade without a word gave the guest sign with his hand to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, as the foreigner obliged. "Neon, this is (Y/n), they're your new companion and therapist. As you have let me know lately, you've been feeling bored and alone. As your dad, your welfare concerns me. So I searched for one of the best professionals to improve your state." -The man addressed the young girl next to him, to take the phone to his desk right away and address it to someone on the other line-"Let the rest of Neon's bodyguards in" -In an instant, the rest of the bodyguards entered the room- "Mx. (Y/n) present yourself to the rest" Mr.Nostrade finally ordered. (Y/n) got up in a unique move from the chair, and facing the rest of the company in the chamber, with their hands clasped in front of their body, they declared "Hello, I'm (Y/n) it's a pleasure to meet and work along with you."-(Y/n) presented themselves with a small politeness reverence, then they turned to faced Neon-"Neon, I am a Doctor with a specialization in psychiatry medicine. I, moreover, am a certified Hunter and I'm here to take care of your psychological and physical integrity. If required I can protect you in case of aggression. Besides I'm here to treat your loneliness and improve your mental health. I honestly hope my faculties will help develop several health skills!" they finally finished, all the discourse was made with the same quiet and kind voice tone, with the subtitle smile never leaving their face.  After the quick initiation, Neon's face went from attentive to a worried grimace to shout "DAD!!! AM I SICK?!?" (Y/n) tilted their head and stepped to Neon softly reassuring her "No Neon, don't worry, you're not sick. I am here just to prevent you from being sick. I'll take good care of your mental and physical state and keep you amity so you remain as happy and healthy as always! In other words, I'm your private psychotherapist." Following those words of reassurance Neon's face lights up in a smile "YAY, So you're my new companion! Finally, I won't be so bored around here! I'm Neon, but you seem to already know my name. You look strangely young, you know? Plus you have a weird accent when you talk!" Of course, Neon added lacking discretion as always. (Y/n) just tilted their head once more, without changing their friendly air they responded "Of course I have an accent, Neon, all chic and elegant people have one, like David Bowie or Kate Bush. And regarding my age, It's judged preferable to have someone closer to your age to establish a more organic cooperative relationship." -The response to the rude observations of Neon was devoid of any malice, it was rather merry and kind, giving Neon the sensation of friendship and calm -"If you'd prefer to consider me your "companion" is fine. As planned with your father, I will be with you every Tuesday, Thursday from 11:00 am to 8:00 pm and Saturdays from 2:30 pm to 7:30 pm. But today as being our first day, I'll be entire with you!" The grin on Neon's face just became wider "YOU'LL SEE, I AM GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN FROM NOW ON!''-Neon called once more, grabbing (Y/n) from their arm and dragging them somewhere. The (hair colored) didn't protest, just flinched to the sudden touche-"COME TO MY ROOM, WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO!" The stranger's identity and intentions finally became clear for Kurapika, letting him discard (Y/n) as a hazard. We followed them into Neon's room to guard the Nostrade's teenager. Hours passed by. Neon talked about all the nonsense she could think of, as (Y/n) seemed to pay special attention to every word the girl spitted out. Sometimes making some comments and writing down in a little (fav color) notebook with a little cat they took off their said bag. Kurapika was just sitting on one of the couches, some sort of relieved to have someone else to take care of Neon's heavy personality and tantrums. "She even seems calmer today, having some entertainment will be profitable to her. " he thought. Even if Neon was, in fact, calmer that day, you could still hear her from across the room. "Your notebook is really cute, you know? Where did you get it? Cats are SOOOOO cute! I want one like that!" "Thank you Neon! I got it at the novelty store in the Mall that's in the center of the town. I go near there quite often, I can get you one if you'll like. Also, I think I'm going to take my break now if you don't mind. I will go make some tea, would you wish some, Neon?" (Y/n) actively added to the chat, even if it's their first day, they seemed to fuse nicely with Neon, rather odd due to Neon's personality. "Nah, I don't like tea" the teen finally responded, getting a soft nod in agreement as an answer. (Y/n) got up from the chair they were sitting on and headed to the employee's kitchen. Not much time later, they came back with a cup of tea and a bottle full of tea. To Kurapika's surprise, (Y/n) handed him the cup of tea with the soft smile of always.  They simply added an "I made you some tea, you appeared a touch worn, I hope it's okay".  That was the first of many little acts of kindness (Y/n) had with him. They would make him some tea regularly in the day or ask about his day during the breaks. During the following weeks in which (Y/n) was going to give therapy to Neon, a lot of things could be perceived. The first was the improvement in Neon's attitude. Being gradually more used to friendly human interaction, and having a better understanding of her frustrations. The second was about (Y/n), they were a rather nice person, gaining some sort of  (or what was the most resembled) sympathy from Neon, which was a feat considering the lack of empathy of Neon. They were polite to everyone in the Nostrade's mansion, and their job as Neon's special doctor was their 4th job. Melody, during a casual chat, learned that (Y/n) worked Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturday mornings as a Psychoanalyst between a Psychiatric ward and a Private Doctor's Cabinet, and the mornings of the days she came to assist the Nostrade's daughter as an intermediary liaison psychiatrist (basically someone who gives psychiatric supportive treatment in non-specialized unities) in the YorkNew General Hospital Center. This explains largely the eyebags and exhaustion for which (Y/n) has earned comments from Neon such as "You know you have eyebags?". Also, that (Y/n) has 18 years of age (sorry dear readers if it's not your age, but this will be relevant for the plot, so please let me this one pass), remarkably young to be an accredited doctor. And they were "precocious" on their own words- as Melody said- And the third and last thing, noticed essentially by Kurapika was about (Y/n) comportment and personality. Even if (Y/n) was kind and polite to everyone, they were incredibly discreet. They acted with prudence in virtually all aspects, from their appearance to their very presence. Like if (Y/n) was hiding and acting from the shadow (Melody also commented about this borderline anxiety). Additionally, all the movements (Y/n) made were prudent and meticulously planned, which made Kurapika realize the intelligence (Y/n) had. He also could tell English was not (Y/n)'s first language. They had a peculiar pronunciation and spoke with a large and fancy vocabulary. Those things greatly aroused Kurapika's curiosity, but the part of (Y/n) that triggered that curiosity the most was related to (Y/n)'s eyes. They were very careful with the subject. So careful indeed that they were even subtle with the care they treated the subject. Were tiny and nearly unimportant actions from (Y/n) that made Kurapika realize the importance of their eyes. (Y/n) never looked anyone in the eyes. Sometimes, during the break, when feeling exhausted or overwhelmed, (Y/n) would close their eyes and cover them with one hand. The biggest event of all was one time he listened to Neon through the door curiously ask  "Hey (Y/n), what happens with your eyes?" and, when he opened the door to see if everything was correct, (Y/n)'s eyes were normal. As if nothing had happened. Kurapika had for sure some inquiries regarding (Y/n). However, all of his suspicions became more prominent with a precise action from (Y/n). One day, Neon decided to show (Y/n) her body part collection. "(Y/n) You're a doctor, I'm sure you're going to love this! You know about these things, You'll be able to appreciate my glorious collection!" Neon was bragging about how happy she was with her various articles. "I have hearts, livers, fetuses, all the parts of the brain, some left and right lungs, and a pancreas. And my favorite of them all! A pair of beautiful scarlet eyes!" Neon made a special address on how rare the scarlet orbs were and how proud she was of them, she even played with them a little. And for the first time, (Y/n) didn't say a thing. Their perpetual smile even faded a little. During the whole episode, Kurapika remained sitting on a chair. Hearing that kind of discourse about his clan's eyes was hurtful and infuriating. How could she talk in such a manner of his fellow Kurtas? With no compassion, like if they were a mear object. It was sickening. A dull and hurt expression plastered on Kurapika's face. He was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice it already was break time. If it wasn't for (Y/n) who came to sit beside him in an attempt to comfort his sorrow. (Y/n) had their gaze lowered and, for the first time, wasn't smiling. It wasn't a gloomy face, more like a flat expression. They didn't say a word and just stayed near him. Similar as if they seemed to comprehend. It wasn't until Kurapika looked at (Y/n) that they gave him a tiny smile. Nevertheless, this smile wasn't like the usual one. It was more caring, full of empathy and kindness, but also pain. None of them said a single word. And even if he never stated a thing about the subject, Kurapika felt a little comforted. At the end of that day, where everyone was heading to their own houses after such a hard working-day, (Y/n) came to Kurapika. He deduced they would just wish him a nice night. Except it wasn't the case. "Kurapika, pardon me, may I speak to you for a bit, pretty please?" (Y/n) mumbled to him, with the identical smile as always. A bit confused by their request, Kurapika responded, "Sure (Y/n), how may I help you?"  forthwith to its answer (Y/n) made him follow them to a more private place behind the Nostrade's mansion. (Y/n) looked down as they had their hands in front of their chest, similar to the pose of a meerkat, and was fidgeting with their fingers. "Kurapika"- then they looked up to him-"I know I'm putting my life on the line. Yet, what I'm about to do is an act of desperation wholly motivated by my conclusion. Are you somehow related to the scarlet eyes?" 

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 1

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 1 - The Magic of America

Nova

I ended up having a great time with mum in America. I have to give Penny credit, Muggle vacations aren't so bad. I can't remember the last time I spent so much time with my mum. In the morning we went to the beach and then for lunch we tried cooking the Muggle way which usually ended in disaster and us laughing. In the evening we went for a stroll and talked about dad and Quidditch and my O.W.L.s panic as they were approaching too fast.

I also decided to talk to her about Charlie because she kept teasing me, like always, and it didn't amuse me at all since all I had on my mind all Summer was Murphy. I told her about his blond hair and blue eyes and how fast he speaks and how enthusiastic he is about Quidditch. Then I told her about Penny and Andre and Tulip's crush on Jae.

I couldn't believe how fun it was talking about these things to her and even though I missed my friends, I wouldn't trade this Summer for anything in the world.

—

This year, along with my list of books and things I would require for my Fifth Year, another letter came. I knew immediately what it was about and I squealed so loudly in my room that mum ran upstairs to see what was going on.

She was a Prefect as well and she knew what was inside the envelope when I swung it around. I got up and we opened it together, standing in the middle of my room.

“Mum, they picked me! I'm a Prefect!” I started jumping up and down, hugging my mum as she started jumping with me.

“Oh, sweetheart! I knew you would become a Prefect.” She cupped my face. “Dad would be so proud.” She gave me a tight hug and then left me to write a letter to Charlie. This was the first time she didn't make her smug face when I mentioned him. Admitting that I fancied Murphy apparently did the trick.

It wasn't even a day when Pip came back with Charlie's response.

Me too!

Was all that he wrote back and I couldn't help but be excited going to the Prefect's meeting on the train with him. Besides us, Andre and Penny became Prefects as well. As it would be any doubt that miss Potions wasn't going to be a Prefect.

Bill wrote to me a few days later and I couldn't help but chuckle at his letter.

Dear Nova,

Charlie was so excited when he found out that you were picked as a Prefect beside him that he completely forgot to tell you that I was made Head Boy. I am in charge of you two now, haha!

I'm joking, we all miss you very much! I hope you're having a great Summer!

But seriously, I am keeping an eye on both of you!

Love,

Bill

The Summer was ending and it was time to go to Diagon Alley. We met Charlie and his entire family there and Charlie and I couldn't stop laughing about how we will mess with Tulip, Tonks, and Jae when they tell us something bad that they did and we'll be able to put them in detention.

Mum allowed me to go and stay with the Weasleys for my last week since she would have to go to work in a couple of days anyway.

I couldn't believe Fred and George when I saw them. They were almost taller than me! Even Charlie, who was always almost the same height as me, was now a head taller than I was and did he get more muscular, or was he always so well built?

Ginny, now 7, was so happy to see me that she almost started crying and I had to let Charlie down easily because I wanted to spend as much time with her that week. At first, he was grumpy about it but understood that spending a whole school year together was enough compared to Ginny, who had me only for a week.

Percy, now in his Second Year, actually congratulated me on becoming a Prefect which was probably the nicest thing he ever said to me. Ron was getting so good at Wizard's Chess that after beating me 3 times in a row, in what seemed like minutes, I didn't want to play anymore.

One thing that I missed the most was playing Quidditch on Weasley's fantastic Quidditch pitch. They finally allowed Ron to play and Ginny became the one who had to sit, disappointed, at the edge of the pitch.

Fred, Bill, and I played against Charlie, George, and Ron. Charlie couldn't believe that I caught the Snitch before him and the twins didn't make him forget it for days! Neither did I since I knew he was going to win the Quidditch House Cup for Gryffindor for the third year in a row anyways!

—

It was time to say goodbye to our families and go back to our second home. I couldn't wait to see the girls, even though I knew I wouldn't have the time to talk to them as much as we usually did on the train, since we would have to patrol the corridors.

After our Prefect's meeting, which was lead by no other than the perfect Bill the Head Boy Weasley, Charlie and I decided to patrol the corridors together to make Penny do it with Andre, at who she stared for the majority of the meeting and I was sure that for the first time, I listened more attentively than her.

I couldn't help myself but walk around the compartment where Murphy was the most. He caught sight of me a couple of times and smiled. I tried to be as casual about it as I could possibly be even though I was sure it was 100% obvious I fancied him.

After I passed the compartment for the fourth time, Orion invited me inside.

“Congratulations on becoming Prefect, Nova.” He said.

“Nothing surprising there, there was a 98,5% chance that Nova would be our Prefect and I only had 1,5% of a doubt that she wouldn't be.” Murphy beamed at me, making me blush.

“Yeah, congrats!” Skye actually smiled at me.

“I hope that won't take too much of your focus off Quidditch. We want to win this year and on our first practice, Murphy will present his new strategy how he reckons we could win against Gryffindor.” Orion explained. Listening to Murphy talk. What a dream come true! Even though I knew I would have to prepare myself mentally for it to listen and not daydream about going out on a date with him.

I decided it was safe to go on a break and I joined my friends in our usual compartment. Charlie came after us, he was proud as he already busted a Slytherin trying to use firecrackers in the bathroom.

“I don't understand, why I wasn't made a Prefect.” Scoffed Tonks, even though I knew she didn't want to be one.

“Why would you like to be a Prefect?” Charlie chuckled.

“So I could get myself out of trouble.” She grinned mischievously.

“They can do that.” Tulip said, pointing at Penny, Charlie, and me.

“You're right! They will keep us out of detention!” Tonks clapped, excitedly.

“Nymphadora Tonks, if you think for a second I will not take points away from you if I catch you doing something, just because you are my friend, you are highly mistaken!” Penny frowned.

“You would take points from your own House, Penny?” I giggled. I knew she would. She was going to be the best Prefect Hogwarts has ever seen. Right next to Bill, of course.

Tonks and Tulip looked at me and Charlie and we shrugged our shoulders. The second Penny looked away I winked at Tonks, letting her know that we would keep their mischief away from Penny.

If we weren't talking about Prefects and our new responsibilities, we were talking about O.W.L.s. The second Penny started talking about them I knew that Tonks was going to avoid her as much as possible this year. I didn't mind it as much as I wanted to get as many O.W.L.s as I could. I was just hoping she would be able to talk about anything else and give us a break here and there.

Deep in conversation, we almost missed the biggest scandal that has ever happened on the Hogwarts Express. Bill stopped in front of our compartment, talking to a girl. I knew she was in his year but I didn't know her name. He looked shy and his cheeks were red and the girl started eyeing him suspiciously trying to understand what was wrong with him.

“So, you see...” He ran his fingers through his long hair. Was he trying to look cool?

“I fancy you and I was wondering if you'd go out with me sometime.” He finished his sentence. Everyone in our compartment gasped. Bill turned around, now more embarrassed than before, knowing he asked a girl out in front of his friends and his little brother.

“Are you joking?” Bill turned back to her as she spoke. “I wouldn't go out with you, WEASLEY, if you were the last wizard in the world.” I felt anger rushing through my body. How dared she! She would be lucky to date a guy like Bill. He was great and attentive and an amazing and smart student. Who does she think she is?!

She walked away, leaving Bill standing there, stupified. I slowly opened the compartment door, careful not to startle him, and pulled him inside.

“Tough luck, mate.” Charlie really looked like he felt sorry for his older brother. I didn't think he would be so understanding about these sorts of things.

“Was that Emily Tyler?” Penny forgot how to closer her mouth.

“Oh, get off it, Bill!” Tonks almost shouted. We all looked at her, eyes wide open. “You deserve so much better than that twat!” Tulip and I gasped at her words. “She's not pretty enough for you and her personality is as much of a myth than the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts.” Even though I wasn't completely sure where she was going with that, it cheered Bill up a little.

“Tonks is right, Bill.” I pulled him in a half hug and rubbed his shoulder. “You can do so much better.” His face was still stunned. Poor lad, that rejection even broke my heart.

“I reckon she was dropped on her head as a baby.” Tulip's comment came out of nowhere as she spoke for the first time since Bill joined us.

“Tulip!” Penny scolded her but couldn't hide the fact that she agreed with her.

“You are one of the best students at Hogwarts, you are smart and a great friend and you are pretty good-looking.” Tulip continued, not paying attention to us. Bill managed to give us a little smile after that compliment, his cheeks bright red.

“Yeah!” Agreed Tonks. “I always wondered if you were single by choice?”

“Yes, he is. But not his.” Charlie never knew when was the right time to mock someone or tell a joke. I gently smacked him on the head.

“Don't listen to him, Bill, he doesn't know what he's talking about.” I said.

“Well, he's not wrong.” Sighed Bill and buried his face in my shoulder.

“You will find the right girl Bill, we are sure of it. Wouldn't you say so, Charlie?” Penny hissed his name as she was still glaring at him for what he said.

“Yeah! Mate, listen.” He scratched the back of his head like he did every time he was embarrassed about something, his cheeks slightly turning red. “You're too much of a man for that Emily twat. You can do better and besides, mum wouldn't approve of her anyway.” Charlie awkwardly leaned over me to pet Bill on the head. I couldn't help but chuckle. Never ask Charlie for love advice, got it.

—

Tulip and I paid attention to this year's Sorting Ceremony as we wanted to see in which House Penny's little sister was going to be sorted. We weren't at all surprised she was a Hufflepuff as well and I couldn't help but laugh as I looked at the Gryffindor Table and saw Charlie gave out a sigh of relief. Penny told him on the train that Beatrice still had a crush on him and he was hoping ever since that she wouldn't become a Gryffindor.

We knew that the professors are going to give us more work than ever since it was our O.W.L.s year but what they were putting us through just in our first two weeks was pure torture. After the first week, I had more homework than all the previous years combined.

As we learned that studying is better together, we spent every sunny day down by the Lake, writing our essays and checking each other's answers. Even Tonks joined us since both Jae and Tulip wanted to study as well. I doubted Tulip wanted to study as much as she wanted to be close to Jae.

“It is better to do this a couple of times per week and be on track with homework than doing everything last minute.” Penny scolded her. “We do have O.W.L.s this year, you know.”

“You don't say.” Charlie mocked her while Tonks rolled her eyes.

Days were going by faster than ever, with the homework, the insane amount of Quidditch practice Orion wanted us to have, and studying for O.W.L.s I barely had any time to spend with Charlie and if I didn't like Ginny so much I would say that I regretted not spending more time with him when I was at the Burrow.

[queenof-literature]

Wolfie

Wild meets Wolfie. The second part of my series, Hero of Wild! 

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778263

AO3: queenofliterature

Link could always talk in his dreams.

He didn’t know why, it always came out as a painful gargled mess in real life. Once, one of the treasure hunters at Dueling Peaks Stable heard him trying to talk to himself and said he sounded like a demented toddler, causing both brothers to cackle. He kept trying, he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue and each time he thought for sure he could reach them. He never did. There weren’t always cruel words when he tried to talk, sometimes it was just scathing glares like the gossiping women in Hateno. Sometimes it was mothers dragging their children away from him as if he were a rabid dog. Eventually, Link never talked again. Not that he couldn’t take a joke, but he was the Hylian Champion. What would people say if they heard their champion talking like that? Not to mention that using his voice sent waves of fire through his throat. Enough people knew sign language, he could get by with a notebook if he had too. It was fine.

It wasn’t fine.

Watching all the other Links chat the long traveling days away hurt more than he expected. They were fun, and they understood him in ways others didn’t. They were Heroes of Courage too, they knew how hard the expectations could be. But Link, or, Wild now, wasn’t one of them. He had failed his Zelda, his Hyrule, and his friends. Why should he deserve new friends? But a selfish part of him wished he could talk to them. Wished he didn’t have to try and wave for their attention to add an abysmal amount to their conversation that had already left without him. It wasn’t their fault they could talk. It wasn’t fair to ask them to slow down so he could sign something half of them didn’t understand completely. Apparently, sign had changed over the centuries.

He wanted so badly to be able to talk. He had so much to say, so much that his Zelda had taught him and what he had learned on his adventure. Did they know how cooking hot-footed frogs bring out certain properties that are cancelled out when combined with other materials with hidden properties? He had done so many experiments with his cooking and he had found out so much! Oh well. He’d probably just annoy them anyway. That’s what happened when he talked in his dreams. People would make fun of his voice. Zelda would make fun of him for being a failure who can’t even talk properly. The other champions would blame him for his death, and when they didn’t they told him to shut up and do his job, in his dreams he never took his vow of silence. He thinks he had dreams, deep in the Shrine of Resurrection. His death on loop, his failures repeating in his mind. Sleeping leads to dreams.

He didn’t like dreams.

~

Twilight had the last watch tonight, although Wild tried to take over a watch every single night. Twilight tried to connect with Wild, he really did. He just didn’t know how. Focusing on everything was hard to do. If Wild wanted someone’s attention, he had to wave and hope they noticed. He would never go out of his way to gain someone’s attention, and he would never do more than a little wave. Sometimes Twilight would be able to catch it and ask who he wanted. Most of the time it was just little facts about his Hyrule. He was trying to be helpful and Twilight appreciated it. It was just hard to communicate with the shy boy. Especially when they were walking, when they all had to look out for monsters.

Twilight could see why his name was Wild. In that battle against the Lynel, he was an elegant force of chaos, breaking equipment, finding odd ways out of a situation, and seeing the battlefield in ways no one did. That was his element, the wild. Twilight wanted to get to know him in his environment, but it’s not like he wanted to chuck the boy into danger. He just wanted to see that spark again. Ever since Wild joined the group, the hollow spot he felt wasn’t so hollow. He never told anyone, he would sound insane, but Wild was meant to be here the entire time. Twilight just didn’t understand why Hylia waited so long.

Speaking of Wild, the boy was sleeping curled up in his thin bed roll away from the campfire at the edge of camp. He wanted to sleep further away, but everytime he tried Time told him to get at least within the bounds of camp, as to not be taken by a monster in the middle of the night. Wild huffed through his nose, but did as he was told.

Everything about him was a paradox. He was untamed, and yet he wasn’t disrespectful. His scarred face showed experience, but his age showed adolescence. His eyes were ancient and haunted, but also carefree and bright. Wild was a conundrum that Twilight and the others desperately wanted to solve.

Wild came with so many questions. Why couldn’t he talk? Was it physical with the scars on his neck? Mental, with the anxiety he clearly faced? Both? Neither? Did he just hate them? Twilight and the others had no idea.

Something about Wild made the wolf within him claw to get out. Not in an angry way, or a way that hurt. But in a way that the wolf wanted to help him, protect him, and ease his pain. He wanted Wild to talk to him and to trust him. Perhaps it was him being jealous of Warriors and Wind, and he shouldn’t pull Wild into his jealousy. No… it was deeper than that.

It felt like Wild was to Twilight as Twilight was to Time. Damn. He’d have to talk to the Old Man about this tomorrow.

~

“Link.”

“Link.”

“Link!”

Link’s eyes snapped open, only to be met with a lid of glass, surrounded by water. No no no. Not again. He didn’t die again. He didn’t. He didn’t fail again!

“Link, you failed me.” The voice was Zelda’s.

“No. Please Zelda this is a mistake. I’m coming. Let me out! Zelda I’m coming!” Link screamed, slamming his hands against the glass, hands turning red. But the glass didn’t budge.

“You left me, Link. You arrive one hundred years late to stop Calamity and you disappear two weeks later. I’m rebuilding a kingdom and you’re playing hero. You think your shiny new friends care? You’ll kill them, just like your last ones.” Zelda’s voice filled his ears no matter how hard Link covered them.

“No! Zelda I’ll come back! They need my help! The Master Sword told me!” Link pleaded.

“So now you feel your connection to the sword? I prayed for seventeen years. You don’t deserve the sword Link. You deserve nothing.” Water began to rise within the chamber. Link panicked and banged on the glass once more, but nothing changed. Nothing would ever change.

~

Twilight was twenty minutes into last watch when he heard soft noises coming from within camp. Twilight sighed, there were many restless nights with eigh-nine Heroes of Courage in one place. Whether it be nightmares, insomnia, the Heroes of Courage sometimes just had a hard time with sleep. But someone would sense it and wake up to comfort their friends. Twilight was close with them, but he didn’t want to step on any toes or cross any boundaries.

Hm. He should have heard rustling by now, one of the other heroes rising to comfort another one. But all he heard were the same soft noises becoming increasingly strained. Now that he thought about it, Wild hadn’t slept in the past few days they were together…

Twilight whipped around and looked at Wild from across the campfire. His scarred face was pulled into a pained expression, even from what little Twilight could see under the hood he insisted on keeping pulled up, even in sleep. His skin was pale and clammy, and his hands were scratching at his scars, turning them a bright red. Oh Hylia, Wild suffered from nightmares, and pretty terrible ones if they all looked like this. Perhaps he hadn’t slept at all since they were grouped together because of them. Wild seemed like the type to be embarrassed at needing help. They all were to an extent.

Twilight desperately thought of a solution. If it were the others, he could wake them up and give them reassurances or a gentle hug, depending on who it was. But with Wild, he had no ideas. Wild didn’t like to be touched at all so he couldn’t imagine he’d be very keen to affection after a horrifying nightmare, Twilight knew for a fact he slept with a knife and his slate nearby. But he couldn’t just leave the kid alone in a nightmare that would probably only escalate. Shit, what did he like? Maybe Twilight could throw a rock at him to wake him up? Hylia no that’s an awful idea. Shit he was so bad at this. Oh wait! Animals! Wild loves animals just like him! He could transform into a wolf and be gone by morning. It wasn’t ideal, Wild wouldn’t assume he spoke sign and therefore wouldn’t be able to talk, but he could at least offer physical comfort if Wild wanted.

He would have to be careful. The others knew about Wolfie, but if Twilight wasn’t there come morning, they would panic and wonder where he was and why he left them unprotected. And Wild hadn’t met Wolfie yet, and there were many savage animals in his Hyrule. This wasn’t his best idea, but it was the only one he had. Slowly, Twilight crept out of camp. Not far enough to leave the camp unwatched, but far enough from prying eyes who might happen to be awake. His transformation to Wolfie didn’t really hurt anymore, it was just the uncomfortable feeling of bones shifting. Once he was fully transformed, he silently trotted back to the edge of camp where Wild was.

What was the best way to go about this? He certainly did not want to get stabbed if Wild saw a giant wolf looming over him. So maybe a quick wet nose to the face then back up? Yes that seemed best. Twilight stalked forward, pressing his nose between the hands scratching at scars to stop him before he hurt himself further, then quickly backing away as Wild jolted awake with a small gasp and grabbed the rusted knife under his bedroll. Wide eyes gazed rapidly around for a threat. Wolfie shrunk down and whined, trying to make himself look as nonthreatening as possible.

~

Link gasped awake. A threat. His hand immediately went to his knife, desperately looking around to what was trying to kill him tonight. Yiga? Bokoblin? Moblin? After frantic eyes scanned the whole area, they landed on a hunched over wolf, stunning Li-no Wild. That’s right, he was in the camp with the other heroes. Keeping the knife in front of him, he eyed the wolf suspiciously. Wolves didn’t act like this, they would have bit him immediately since he was at the edge of camp. He knew he should have slept in a tree like always, but it seemed rude to be up high and more protected than his new group. The wolf, still having his head down slightly, approached him slowly. Not in the slow stalking motion that meant it was waiting for an opening. It almost seemed inviting. Wild wished he could talk to it. Was it hungry? He could spare some food but he didn’t want other wolves coming to this area. What in Hylia was going on?

~

Twilight continued to approach slowly, watching the knife wearily. Wild let him approach, though Twilight could tell he was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? At least Wild has some sort of self preservation. Soon, Twilight was at the knife. This was the moment of truth. He ducked under the knife and sniffed Wild’s hand, before nuzzling it slightly. Wild almost dropped the knife in shock, blue eyes wide. Twilight began to walk closer to Wild, before huffing and laying his head down in his lap. Looking up, he saw the clear shock on Wild’s face. Hesitant and shaking hands reached to pat his fur. Once he realized it was okay, Wild buried his hands into soft fur. Twilight wagged happily that his plan had worked, until he felt something wet on his head. It seemed the soothing motion only had Wild’s nightmare come back full force. Wolfie whined guiltily.

Wild attempted to tell him he was okay, but all that came out were rasps and words so broken Twilight couldn’t even begin to comprehend them. Twilight’s heart broke for the boy. It seemed he really wasn’t physically able to talk. Wild’s hands went to scratch at his neck and face again, but Wolfie intervened. He wanted the boy to cope however he could, but he didn’t want Wild to hurt himself. Wolfie sat up and nuzzled into Wild’s neck to prevent his hands from reaching it. Wild tried to say something but Wolfie couldn’t understand no matter how much he tried. Wild’s dam broke completely as he buried his face into Wolfie’s fur and cried, trying to use the fur to muffle any sounds he made. Twilight stayed the entire time, even as Wild’s small cries turned to hiccups and he got drowsy, Wolfie stayed.

His original plan was to leave as soon as Wild fell back asleep, but the teen had all but collapsed on him as they laid down. He didn’t have the heart to move and possibly wake the boy, leaving him alone to transform back into Twilight who he felt he couldn’t open up to yet. So Wolfie stayed. Time could make up an excuse for him in the morning, he was the only one who knew. He would see Wild draped on top of him and the tear tracks on the younger’s face and know what happened. As a wolf, he had better senses. If something came close to them, he would know. For now, he stayed by Wild’s side.

~

Time’s eye opened a crack, he’s always one of the earliest risers in the group. He sat up, back cracking slightly from sleeping on the ground before turning to say good morning to his protege on watch. Time froze when he realized his protege was nowhere to be found. He grabbed his Biggoron Sword and stood quickly. Twilight wouldn’t just leave them unguarded. Time’s eyes scanned the area, before landing on their newest addition draped on the wolf form of his protege. Time’s posture relaxed, although his abrupt rising woke some others in their party. Legend and Warriors had also awoken.

“Seems the new guy has finally met Wolfie.” Legend smirked at the sight before him, smirk only dropping when he noticed the tear tracks on Wild’s face.

“Seems like he had a rough night.” Warriors commented. “Leave it to our resident wolf to cheer him up.”

Wolfies’ eyes peeked open glaring slightly at the other heroes, almost daring them to wake the boy on top of him before dozing off once more. Time chuckled slightly. Seems his protege was a little protective over their newest member.

“Where’s Twilight?” Warriors asked, masking his concern. “He wouldn’t leave us to the monsters would he?”

“No.” Time shook his head. “Wolfie isn’t panicking so I’m sure he’s just checking the perimeter or scavenging. He wouldn’t leave us without Wolfie here to alert us.” Time resonated. He held back his relief when the others bought his excuse. Time smiled once again at Wolfie and Wild, not making too much noise and risk waking the others. Breakfast could wait a little while.

[varibean]

Try Turning It Off And On Again

This was my piece for the tangled dreams zine that can be found here! I wanted to try writing a bit of Team Awesome/Dadgene so I hope y’all enjoy and lmk what you think! 

Read On AO3

It was no small exaggeration to say that, on paper, Varian was living a near perfect life. It was hard to imagine the boy-or as his father so often called him, ‘young man’-wanting for anything and for the most part he didn’t. After the battle with Zhan Tiri and the terrifying day of the eclipse, all of his dreams had been practically handed to him on a silver platter. Royal Engineer, renowned alchemist, best friend to several important people; with all that under his belt it was hard to imagine him not being in a constant state of euphoria over how well his life was playing out. Especially after his rocky start.

However if someone was to catch him in the early hours of the morning, they would be led to think that nothing had ever gone right in the history of his entire life.

It wasn’t a fact of Varian not being a morning person that was the issue but rather the sheer number of things he had to do once he got up. Early on in his career as royal engineer, Rapunzel thought it to be a great idea that he live in the palace with them. He’d been excited about the prospect at first; getting to live close with his greatest friends? Spending his days working on machines? Winding down at night in the grand ballroom for dinner? Absolutely perfect.

What he hadn’t considered was the fact that, by living in the palace, he was essentially on the clock twenty-four seven. Every morning when he woke up he skipped his usual routine of combing his hair or brushing his teeth in favor of opening up his bedroom door. That action was always greeted with a pile of neatly placed but still numerous scrolls, all left behind by the morning castle page. Each one was either a task, request, or order form filed by any and all who needed his service. It was only after he picked them all up and read through them that he continued his other morning tasks.

Life at the castle was more boring than he’d ever considered life in a castle could be. The whole place worked like clockwork and not the fun kind. The only thing that broke up the monotony of the place was Rapunzel, with her always chipper nature, and Eugene, who often tagged along with her despite his own duties as Captain of the Guard. But even that small burst of excitement was becoming less and less as time went on. Less Rapunzel, less Eugene, more work.

When Varian first arrived, everything had been wonderful and new. The scrolls at his doorstep were exciting projects, not boring chores. He had time for his own inventions and endeavors no matter how small they were, and most importantly, he got to spend time with his friends. All of those things were slowly fading, dwindling in time and importance as his daily tasks grew and grew. When writing his father about it, the older man simply replied that it was all part of growing up. Varian hated that. Still, the days dragged on, the ever steady pace of the castle completely uncaring to his internal plight of drudgery.

____

It was on a day of heavy rain and wind when Varian got the notice that something was wrong with the boilers. Nothing major enough to cause an entire village to explode, he’d been sure to put that safety precaution in place, but enough to warrant a knock on his door as he was preparing for lunch. No ham sandwich break for him today.

Apparently some rainwater had managed to seep through the shallow earth and gotten into the underground reservoir used to fill the tankers, in turn causing them to overflow. It wasn’t the overflow that was causing any structural issues, the machines wouldn’t rust overnight after all, but it was causing an imbalance in the chemical reaction. Too much water meant there was more liquid than the chemicals could properly heat, leaving everyone with lukewarm water. Tragic.

Duty called though and lunch would have to wait.

“Lukewarm water. Oh”, Varian said sarcastically to Ruddiger as he prepared to go down and find the leaky bit of earth that was causing the problem, “The horror of it all.”

The people of Corona could survive a day or two without hot water, but why should they when they had a Royal Engineer at their disposal? Nevermind the fact that he was a person too, who was currently missing out on his meal so that everyone else could wash their hands in comfort.

He bit back the desire to spout out another sarcastic comment to his furry companion, knowing that he was just being unreasonably bitter because he was hungry. Food would still be there when he got done; the longer he ignored the problem the worse it would get. In all fairness, it took priority. Besides, something like sealing up a bit of loose earth and diverting the dripping water from the tankers would be an easy fix. He could do it in his sleep.

____

Varian had been correct in assuming that the boiler problem would be an easy fix, maybe slightly tedious at best. What he hadn’t accounted for was how difficult it would be to simply get down to the reservoirs in the first place.

The problems started the second he stepped out of his room and into the main hallways of the castle. Ruddiger trotted beside him happily, the fat animal knowing that his only job was companionship and nothing more. Given the time of day and the raininess outside the place was busier than it normally was. Gardeners muttered over their tools, maids rushed to clean up dirt and grime that had been tracked in, and all the other servants began to hustle and bustle around in order to make sure that everyone was safe and well attended to.

It shouldn’t have been a long trek, just a few turns before getting to the downstairs, but the trip was elongated by everyone constantly bumping into him and pushing him aside.

Despite being a respected member of the staff, he was still just a boy in many of their eyes. He glared at the people who brushed past him, knowing that he’d helped each one of them with at least half a dozen things at some point or another. They’d been perfectly kind to him then but now he was nothing more than another body blocking their way. It was easy to be nice to someone while they were doing something for you and even easier to ignore them when the time was over.

Half way through the crowd to his destination he felt a hand grip at his arm and turning around he was met with the stern face of a maid, face flushed with frustration.

“Excuse me young man, you’re the Royal Engineer correct?”

Her voice was twice as haughty as she looked, speaking as if she couldn’t believe that she had to stoop to the level of talking to him in the first place.

“Varian. Just Varian.” He didn’t have time to deal with whatever nonsense the woman needed him for even though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was about to be given no choice.

He was quickly proven right as the woman gave a soft huff and pulled him alongside her to whatever issue she needed fixed. For a moment he considered squirming out of her grasp or maybe telling her that he was busy but as nice as those both seemed he knew that it would only come back to bite him in one form or another. If he didn’t fix whatever problem she had now then he would have to do it later. He was already missing lunch, might as well make the most of things.

She all but shoved him into one of main rooms, where he was met with several maids and servants covered in dust and circled around one of his many machines.

Ah , he thought, That explains a lot.

“Your blasted machine blew up. How are we supposed to clean up dust when the device that you made to help does nothing but blow it back in our faces?” The woman huffed as she crossed her arms.

Varian would have rather been scolded by old lady Crowley than whoever this woman was. At least Crowley didn’t balk like a fish when she was angry.

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” Varian tried to joke to lighten the mood, but was met with only a cold shoulder and a stifled chitter from Ruddiger.

Eugene or Rapunzel would’ve found it funny.

He signed while leaning down to the device and fixing it up with one very simple step: Flipping the switch from ‘blow’ to ‘suck’.

“Let me know if you have any actual problems with it ma’am. Sadly, even I can’t fix operator errors.”

He skittered out of the room before anyone could berate him for his mouth. He smirked to himself, thinking how funny one of his friends would find that line. That was only the beginning of his troubles though.

It seemed that every step he took towards the boilers, someone needed his assistance.

Nigel’s mechanical pen needed the ink chamber fixed, Hope needed the automatic laundry cart’s wheel to be tightened, one of the chefs needed more preservation chemicals to keep the food fresh until next week.

By the time he actually got to the door to the boiler room it was well past his lunch break, time slowly and steadily creeping towards dinner. Hours of helping crowds of people with their problems and all that just so he could get to the actual problem of the day.

But yet again, right when he was about to turn the knob on the door and enter the stairwell for the boilers at long last, another hand grasped at his arm.

“Hey there buddy-”

“For the sun’s sake I just need to fix one stupid problem!” Varian shouted, turning around to face the stranger who’d grabbed him only to find that it wasn’t a stranger at all.

Instead he was met with Eugene’s surprised and amused face looking down at him, red uniform dampened slightly from the outside rain and hair slicked back in an admittedly stylish fashion.

“Well hello to you too short stack.” Eugene’s response was met with a groan as Varain pushed in the door and began to descend into the underground area. “Rough day?”

“Not more than any other day here.”

“So I’ll take that as a yes. What’re you doing going to the boilers so late, it’s almost chow time kiddo. You know how your dad will chew us out if we don’t get you your three squares a day.”

Even with Eugene’s joking nature Varian could hear a bit of sincerity in his words. He couldn’t bear the thought of confessing that he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat lunch. Instead he just kept walking downwards, the other man following close behind with Ruddiger.

“The rain cracked through one of the underground tunnel walls, which has been causing the small reservoir down there to flow faster. It’s overfilling the machines which means the formula for heating them isn’t working and that means a bunch of people upset at me until I can fix it.”

“Well of course, can’t imagine what a tragedy it must be to go a full day with only lukewarm water.” Eugene’s tone was sarcastic, mimicking Varian’s earlier sentiments on the matter.

Despite the day he had, the alchemist laughed. Of course Eugene of all people would share his same sense of humor at the situation.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if people would just let me get down here in the first place.”

“Nah, they can’t make it too easy on you kiddo, that’ll just make you go soft.”

Another chuckle rang out against the walls. It was more than Varian had laughed in probably an entire week. Suddenly the task of fixing a leak didn’t seem so bad; having company helped and though he loved Ruddiger to pieces, there was only so much conversation that a single raccoon could have.

“So what do we have to do to fix it?” Eugene asked after the laughter had settled and the two made it to the bottom of the steps, leading to the underground tunnels.

“I’m just going to put some of my newest solution on the crack and up the Flynnolium for a few hours. That’ll give everything time to reset by morning and then I’ll adjust the Flynnolium solution release back down to four percent per tanker. And it’ll also give everyone else ample time to find something new to yell at me about.”

Though he spoke with a joking tone he could see the flash of concern that drifted over Eugene’s face, making him instantly regret saying anything at all. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful to the older man; he really did love his job even with the few pitfalls that came with it. His snark was nothing more than the result of a little stress. That’s what he told himself at least.

The rest of the walk was short and comfortably chatty, Eugene going on about his latest guard duties while Varian laughed and ribbed him on his work ethic. It was nice to finally get some time to talk to his friend again, Team Awesome. He almost didn’t want his work day to be finished but the fixes he needed to implement were easy; it had just taken him forever to get down to do them. Just as soon as the two (plus Ruddgier) had made it to the caves, they were back to the top of the staircase.

“Well kid,” Eugene started, “now that we’ve got that all done let’s go get some grub. Don’t want to keep everyone else waiting.”

Eugene began to walk in the direction of the dining hall but Varian stayed put. He was hungry, that much was for sure, but he’d spent all day around people. Being around them, fixing their problems, having them bump into him and squawk at him. It was nice to spend some time with just Eugene but an entire room full of more people...now that was something different entirely.

“Actually I still have some leftovers from lunch in my room.” By which, of course, he meant his entire lunch. “I’m not that hungry anyways so I think I’m going to pass tonight, tell everyone I said hi.”

“Are you sure? Heard there was going to be cookies tonight-”

“Yeah, don’t-don’t worry about me it’s just been...been a really long day.”

Varian mustered up his best smile and gave a thumbs up as he walked away before Eugene could say anything else.

It had been a nice reprieve from his regular day to day drudgery, but it was time to go to bed and start the whole process over again tomorrow.

____

When Varian woke up the next morning he wasn’t tired which was his first clue that something was wrong. He stretched and yawned, squinting as the sun shone brightly through his window which was the second clue.

The third, and by far the most obvious clue, came when he cleared his nose and sniffed a few times and was met with the scent of fresh ham and eggs. Turning to his night stand he saw a brilliantly decorated tray of toast, butter, and scrambled eggs with ham and tomato slices mixed in.

“What in the-oh shit!” Next to the delicious smelling breakfast was his alarm clock which had apparently not gone off despite having wound it up the night before, seeing how the time displayed on it read 11:12. He was late, beyond late. It was nearly noon, he would never hear the end of it. Not only that, but there was a bigger issue at hand.

“The Flynnolium!” He darted up out of bed, not even bothering to put on his work clothes or brush his hair.

He nearly tripped over his own feet trying to reach the door. When he opened it, however, he ran face first into a solid body, sending him reeling back from the impact.

“Well good morning there sleepy head. Man, you really must’ve been worn out to sleep that long huh? Any sweet dreams?” The voice was calm and teasing with just a hint of sincerity playing against the tone of a smile.

“Eugene!” Varian steadied himself and once again tried to get by him. “I can’t talk right now, I have to go. I overslept somehow and-and the Flynnolium has been set on high for too long, I need to get down there and-”

“Set it back to four percent per tanker? Already taken care of buddy. Now come on, I worked all morning on that breakfast and you haven’t even touched it. Well, the royal chef worked all morning on it but I was in the room so i’m pretty sure that counts for something. Supervising, you know, is a very important part of the process.”

“Wha…”

Varian couldn’t even finish his sentence as Eugene guided him back to his bed and sat him down, moving the breakfast tray onto his lap.

“Well don’t sit there wasting all that hard work, dig in.”

“But I don’t...I don’t understand how-what the hell is going on?”

“Language.” Eugene chidded jokingly before sitting down beside the other, “I noticed you seemed a little stressed yesterday. So, I took it upon myself to give you the day off. Woke up this morning and turned the Flynnolium down. Bribed Ruddiger with a few apples to get him to turn your clock off and let you sleep in.”

Varian looked down at the food in his lap, speechless. He hadn’t been that tired, had he?

“Why though?” He asked, quizzically picking up a slice of toast and slowly biting it.

“I just told you, you’re stressed. We’re Team Awesome and Team Awesome looks out for each other.”

Varian continued to crunch slowly and Eugene let out a soft sigh before putting his hand on the other’s back.

“I know the people here demand a lot from you. It would be a big adjustment for anyone just to exist around this place, let alone be the Royal Engineer. Doing projects every day, people only giving you the time of day when they need you, running around like Pascal chasing after a fly. And I know I...probably haven’t helped much in that regard either. You’re the Royal Engineer because Rapunzel and I know you can handle it. But just because you can handle it on your own doesn’t mean you should have to.”

The more Eugene spoke the more Varian relaxed, shoveling more food into his mouth as he got more comfortable.

“Fankfs.” He said, his cheeks full like chipmunks, causing Eugene to laugh.

“No problem buddy. Anyways, like I was saying, I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much-”

“That’s not your fault.”

“No, but it is my fault for not trying harder. And for not realizing how tough things have been on you. So, here’s the plan, once a week from now on you’re getting a full twenty-four hours of off time. Maybe after a few of those and we’ll finally have you back on a decent sleeping schedule. Anyone who interrupts it gets thrown in the dungeon, my royal decree as Captain.”

“I don’t think Captains can make royal decrees.” Varian stated flatly, suppressing a smirk.

“Ok smart mouth, well they can now. You have the rest of the day off.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as Varian finished eating, setting aside the tray and closing his eyes. He leaned against Eugene’s shoulder, content and full and happy.

“Thanks Eugene.”

“Anytime kiddo. Team Awesome?”

Eugene extended his fist and Varian happily, if not a bit tiredly, pounded it with his own.

“Team Awesome. Now, since I have the rest of the day off…” In a split second Varian was falling back against his bed, rolling himself up in the blankets pillows, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Eugene laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Lazy bones. Well, have sweet dreams. Sugar plum fairies and all that.”

“Nah, I’m going to be dreaming of cute blonds who look like Flynn Rider and take me on daring adventures.”

That caused Eugene to laugh even louder.

“Wow, you really are such a teenager aren’t you? Well tell dream hotshot that if he wants your fantasy hand in marriage he’s going to have to get through me first.”

“And my dad.” Varian joked bluntly.

“Personally I think I’m the more important one to impress but, yeah, that guy too-” Suddenly a pillow hit Eugene’s face, muffling his chuckles, “Ok ok I get the message, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”

“Eugene?”

“Yes sleeping beauty?”

“Thanks, I needed this.”

“Any time kiddo. Love ya.”

As Eugene closed the door, Varian closed his eyes, sinking down into his mattress and into a day of blissful sleep.

“Love you too.”

By the time Varian got the drowsy words out, Eugene was already gone, but it didn’t matter. He already knew.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 11: Archduke Silly Bot

I built a new Mess Hall and Accessory Shop, but before I could play with them, my castle was attacked! By spooky ghost men from the Astral Plane I mean, I summoned them, but still, the castle is in danger. Fifteen enemies showed up to try and seize the fort. Lilith was supposed to help me fight, but just stayed in her pond and did nothing. Dumb fish.

The invaders were tough, but focused more on smashing stuff than killing my Units. Unfortunately, there was a casualty. Kenshi, our valiant POW who we force to serve as cannon fodder, was slain in battle. I mean, not really, because I’m playing Casual mode. Still, I renamed the castle Fort Kenshi in his honor.

The invasion gave me the points needed to build two new structures: the Rod Shop and the Smithy. The Mess Hall can be used to slightly boost unit stats for one battle. The Rod Shop can be used to buy various consumable items. Smithy can be used to reforge Weapons; for instance, I gave Kenshi a new bronze club called Kenshi’s Whacker. The Accessory shop can be used to buy and equip fun accessories, like the bath towel that is all Kenshi is allowed to wear.

Support: Jakob/Mozu

C: Jakob finds Mozu crying, because she had a nightmare about the death of her family, and comforts her.

B: Jakob tells Mozu that she is fortunate to have had something to lose; he explains his abusive childhood that ended with him being sold into servitude of the royal family and tells Mozu to hold onto her memories of her village.

A: Mozu begins training so she can be strong enough to protect everyone and thanks Jakob for looking out for her.

S: Jakob proposes to Mozu, asking her to help him create memories worth cherishing.

Review: This one was short, but good. It could have very easily just been a throwaway conversation about Jakob’s fanciness contrasting Mozu’s lack of sophistication. Instead, it was a genuinely touching conversation that expanded both characters and made me love Jakob even more.

Support: Orochi/Saizo

C: Orochi tells Saizo to stop being mean, because it’s ruining his reputation with the ladies, and threatens to take matters into her own hands.

B: Orochi reveals that when they first met, when Saizo was a child and she was...whatever age she was, she predicted misfortune in his future, which scared Saizo so much he wet his pants. She then reveals that she’s told everyone. Saizo runs away to salvage his reputation.

A: Saizo comes back, furious. Apparently, Orochi lied about telling everyone and Saizo, in his attempts to explain that he only peed his pants because he was a child, ended up spreading the story for her.

S: Saizo has turned over a new leaf and is trying to be nicer thanks to Orochi’s mind games. Orochi confesses that, when she fortolled misfortune in Saizo’s future, she must have actually been talking about his father. Because, as we all know, Saizo has not suffered any misfortune in his life. Also they get married.

Review: This one was decent. Saizo ignoring Orochi’s threats at first then ruining everything in his struggle to fix things is amusing, and the duo have better chemistry than most couples in this game.

Support: Azura/Corrin (Birthright)

Notice the Birthright parenthetical. Corrin and Azura, the main duo, actually have different conversations in different routes, which is neat.

C: Corrin and Azura take a walk together. Azura compares the nice day to Castle Shirasagi. She then apologizes for bringing up her childhood, which she feels belonged to Corrin.

B: Azura asks Corrin about her childhood and Corrin explains both the forced isolation and the constant companionship from Elise and the servants. Corrin actually says she misses the Northern Fortress.

A: Corrin and Azura reflect on their different opinions of Nohr: Azura’s feelings of it being the evil she escaped and Corrin’s of it being a home she misses. They discuss the fact that no place is truly good or bad, something the game’s writers needed to be reminded of, and vow to bring peace.

S: Corrin states that his good memories of Nohr all stem from kind people and vows to be that kind of person for her. The duo exchange some insanely on the nose promises about being fine in a dark pit if they’re together and their fates being intertwined. Now, this may feel like incest because they share parents and siblings, but I actually think this one is okay? As long as there isn’t some late game twist that makes them cousins or something, this seems good.

Review: Overall, a fairly good conversation. Corrin’s feelings on Nohr are more nuanced than this game normally is and the idea that Nohr isn’t evil because of the people is a good sentiment.

Support: Setsuna/Subaki

C: Subaki and Setsuna are assigned to train new recruits together. The new recruit is Kenshi, I have decided. Subaki, worried that Setsuna will be Setsuna and mess everything up, does everything himself.

B: Setsuna just wanders off in the middle of training new recruits and Subaki tries to help her be a better leader.

A: Setsuna attempts to resign from teaching, but Subaki tells her that her wandering off actually helped the recruits because she’s observant, I guess. Setsuna does not retire from teaching.

S: Setsuna tells Subaki that she likes him then wanders off because she’s done talking. Subaki chases after her and proposes.

Review: This one was mediocre. Setsuna is always fun, but this support conversation lacked a good conflict and was resolved in a dumb way. Setsuna wandering off in the middle of a confession is fun, but the relationship wasn’t built up at all.

Birthright Chapter 9: Land of Gods

The gang head to Izumo, a neutral kingdom south of Hoshido. The guards, recognizing Azura, let the party in. Corrin asks about the missing princes and is told no battle happened near Izumo. No war in Ba Sing Se and all that jazz. Archduke Izana approaches them, looking like a wise and calm leader. Then he talks and they realize that he’s a silly boy.

They ask him about the battle on the border of Izumo and he tells them he knows nothing about it. Izana invites the gang to rest and be treated by his healers. He also invites Corrin and Sakura to go to some special spa healing in his deep relaxation chamber which is absolutely not suspicious.

The deep relaxation chamber is an execution chamber. Nohrian soldiers march in to kill Corrin and Izana reveals that he is actually a Nohrian mage named Zola. His voice sounds like Gollum and he has this weird jester hat. I cannot wait for the part of the game where we kill him.

Right before Corrin is executed, half of the Nohrian soldiers attack the other half. It’s revealed the soldiers are actually our soldiers in disguise. Where they got the Nohrian costumes, I do not know. Maybe they looted them from some corpses? Also, how did they know this was happening? And how did they seamlessly blend into the Nohrian army? I have many questions.

Hinoka explains that she knew Zola wasn’t the real Izana because no royal would ever act like such a silly boy, because she has never read any history textbook. The battle begins.

Something I haven’t mentioned yet that I want to mention: if an enemy has a super effective weapon, a red balloon with an exclamation mark appears above them as you move your unit. Nice touch.

On turn two, two new characters march into battle: a Samurai named Hinata and a Spear Fighter named Oboro. The two of them are looking for Takumi. The two bicker. Hinata is an idiot and is thirsty for Takumi. Oboro fantasizes about killing all of the Nohrian scum and Hinata tells her to chill out. These two idiots are Takumi’s retainers. Corrin goes up to the duo and recruits them.

Hinata

A samurai and one of Takumi’s retainers. His personal skill, Triple Threat, hurts enemies who lower him below half health. His design is fine, I guess. I think they’re going for a meathead thing from his introduction and his scars and muscles, but he looks way too young. Personality wise, he seems to be kinda dumb, but not enough to be funny.

Oboro

A spear fighter who is really goddamn thirsty for Takumi and is also really racist. Her unit description is: Loves fashion, hates Nohr. Her personal skill makes her do extra damage to Nohrians, which is useful because we are at war with Nohr. Fates has a bad tendency of reducing characters to a single character trait and we’ve already been shown three traits for Oboro, which I assume will dominate every line she ever says. Seriously, we’ve known her for a minute and she’s said Nohrian Scum a dozen times.

This map was good. It was a standard fighting enemies in a castle map; nothing special, but then again it didn’t need to be special. After the battle, Zola says that he’d rather die than tell Corrin anything. He then throws a smokescreen and runs away, only to be attacked by Leo.

Leo says he’s going to kill Zola for being a disgrace to Nohr and Corrin says, no, don’t do that, don’t hurt another Nohrian. Except, Corrin has killed dozens of Nohrians at this point. Leo yells at Corrin for being a traitor and gives her Zola to keep as a pet. Corrin reflects on how Leo has gotten stronger, but also become more cruel, since her betrayal of Nohr.

The gang meets the real Izana. Yeah he’s every bit as weird and wacky as Zola was. He tells the gang about hearing that the princes were near the bottomless canyon and reads Corrin’s fortune. He sings the next verse of Ocean’s Grey Waves, implying that this song is genuinely a prophecy about this game.

In the white light, a hand reaches through

A double-edged blade cuts your heart in two

Waking dreams fade away,

Embrace the brand-new day

So, let’s see. First off, a lot of imagery about light, which is Hoshido’s aesthetic. Not sure what verse one means, but verse two is some heavy foreshadowing for Chapter 26. I’ll talk about it more then. Verses three and four are about Corrin leaving the fake life in Nohr and returning to Hoshido. Probably.

Azana also predicts that the princes are both alright, so the gang heads off to find them. That night, Azura talks to Corrin about the prophecy, saying that it is the lyrics to a song she was taught as a child that now seems to be about Corrin.

[bookocd]

Light As Air Chapter 5

Alright I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope it makes a couple of you chuckle. Thank you for reading and if anyone wants to be added to the tag list let me know!

Tag List:

@wxstedhexrt

Summary:

In the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash, Fenrys finds himself connected with a mysteriously powerful fae female. With the confusion of her past and vast amount of power, the Aelin’s court becomes weary of Fenrys’s involvement. 

Fenrys is still reeling after Connall’s death and while joining Aelin’s court has been a dream, his nightmares are still plagued by Maeve. 

Vel will do anything to get the help she needs, but her past controls her emotions, and her hopes for the future clouds her judgement. 

Maybe together they can mend what has been broken, but Vel’s strange origins will continue to keep them apart. 

Link to Master list!

Chapter 5:

The plan was to let him think she was sleeping.

The plan was to wait for him to leave.

The plan was to sneak out of this room and out of the castle and never come back. 

Plans fucking change. 

Looking at Fenrys was the equivalent of looking into the sun. It hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. This was the only reason she allowed him to maneuver her into the position they were in now. She knew that his training ran deep and when she loosened her hold ever so slightly on his hand that he would take the opportunity to gain back his dominance. 

The new plan was to look at him and then throw him off of the bed all together. It only took one shift of her lower body and legs, and then he would be on his ass. 

Vel found herself unable to buck him off, because she couldn’t stop staring. The scars on his face were now just subtle red lines and somehow the almost nonexistent scars allowed him to look real. Vel had never seen someone who looked as perfect as him. Given that she had never met more than five people in her life, until recently, but the characters in her books had nothing on the male hovering a couple of inches from her face. 

“Are you going to behave if I let your arms go?” His voice brought Vel out of her thoughts. 

A rough laugh filled the chamber and she flashed him her teeth in anger. He was speaking to her as if she were a small child. “Probably not,” she gritted out.

“Then I guess we are at a standstill sweetheart.”

“Do not call me that.”

His eyes shone and she knew her mistake. He would never stop calling her that now, but her emotions got the best of her. The only person that had ever called her that was her father. 

Fenrys made to speak again, but Vel beat him to it. 

“Is this how you like your women? Pinned down, unable to move?” Her taunt was gross, uncalled for, and only said for the purpose of getting him off balance. His hands let go of her arms almost immediately and his face went completely blank. 

It was a look of utter nonexistence, a look of nothingness. Vel just watched, eyes wide, as the warrior in front of her started the shake. His breathing started to quicken and then he was across the room. Vel sat up and looked upon the male. He was sliding down the brick wall while hyperventilating, eyes glazed over, like he was living in a nightmare. 

Knowing the signs of a panic attack and having personal experiences with them, Vel slowly walked over to where the male now had his head in-between his knees. 

“Breath, just breath,” she started to say as calmly as possible. “You are safe. Try to slow your breathing.” Nothing happened. “I need to know how to help you. Please tell me how to help you.” The whimper she heard from him nearly broke her heart. She kept repeating commands of breathing, but she realized that maybe he was more like her than she realized. There was only one thing that would get her out of a severe state like this. 

She knew what she had to do.

—

Fenrys didn’t know how he got here. His panic attacks never came on this fast and never with someone else in the room. He was happy with keeping his problems to himself, but with peace came more time for thought. His thoughts were never good and neither were his memories. 

He faintly heard Vel speaking to him, but it wasn’t his humiliation that kept him from looking up at her. It was the fact that for one second, she turned into another black haired female. He had been in that position before, many times and never with his consent. Her commands came back to him in a flood and then he was transported to a lavish room in Doranelle being forced to be the whore the whole city thought him to be. 

His thoughts of Maeve’s face were interrupted by a hand on his knee. Still not looking up he tried to focus on the voice in front of him, instead of the sultry voices of the past. 

“I was really young when magic was taken away and so many magical families and fae were killed. My father felt the only way to ensure my safety was to keep me in a secret cellar at all times. It wasn’t until I was 13 that I was allowed out of the cellar, 15 when I was allowed outside of the cabin, and 17 when my father allowed me to travel with him. He had finally deemed me mature enough and smart enough to know I would die if anyone found out what I was. This is only relevant to the story, because I need you to know that I was fucking stupid when it came to social interaction and normal everyday activities having to do with people.” She huffed out a slight laugh and slowly but surely his breathing started to slow as she continued talking.

“I went into a village with my father, so we could gather some food and because he finally got fed up with me pestering him everyday about getting out of that cabin. This town was larger and had both an Inn and connecting bath house, along with a farmers market and several small shops. It was far enough from Orynth that it wasn’t attacked, it wasn’t valuable enough to pillage, and definitely not large enough to be a threat, so they were left mostly alone. I stayed quiet with my head down and tried to slouch as I walked, to hide both my teeth and unnatural tallness, but still people were kind to me and I actually enjoyed myself. At one point toward the end of our journey my father wanted to talk to an elderly man about his book collection, which ended up taking hours. Once he got talking about books, nobody could stop him.” It was at the sad tone that Fenrys finally looked up. Her hand was still on his leg, tethering him to the real word, and there were tears in her eyes. When she met his gaze a small smile formed on her lips. He still couldn’t speak, but he pleaded, with his eyes, for her to continue and she seemed to know what he was asking. 

“I started to get stir crazy and reckless. I also had never had a real bath. The closest I got was a stream by our house, which was not the same thing. It was getting late and the most people had already gone home or to the pub in the main floor of the small inn. I thought I could be quick, in and out, so I headed over toward the bath house.” Her hand finally left his knee and covered her face as a blush was slowly creeping across her cheeks. 

Through her hands he could barely hear the smothered words. 

“I also need to tell you that I was wearing boys clothing because… well, that’s a story for a different day.”

His heart soared at hearing her talk about the future, even if she probably hadn’t meant it. 

“So yea, I walked toward the bath house and when I went inside no one was in the main room and there were only two doors leading to the baths. The wall with the two doors was covered with a huge landscape painting of a Terrasen forest in the winter. To this day I can still picture it, the snow covered evergreens and mountainous background. Anyways I didn’t see any difference between the two so I just decided, without using any common fucking sense, to walk into the left door.”

Her eyes peaked out in-between mangled fingers at Fenrys, but he still wasn’t quite sure where this story was going. With a huff she dropped her hands and all but yelled, “I saw penis’s okay!?”

His eyes widened as she went on. “In the artwork on the wall connecting to the baths, there was a doe on the right door and a buck on the left, to signify which door was for which gender. This only became clear when I walked in to see all the farm hands, who apparently all bathe together after a hard days work instead of going home, which is what I thought they did. There was at least 12 men spread about the room. In the actual water, lounging in chairs, wiping themselves off with towels, but all fucking naked. I saw several different cock’s and I looked like a boy so no one covered themselves when I walked in. The asked me to JOIN THEM! I was mortified and scarred for life, and I ran out. When I finally found my father, who hadn’t realized I had left, we walked home in silence and he asked me several times what was wrong. Of course I said nothing, but later that night I found myself asking my brother what the average size of a penis was and ended up telling him the whole story. He laughed so hard that fell out of a chair. I never spoke of it since, well except for right now. So yea… penis’s. That’s the end of my story.” 

Fenrys didn’t know what to say, so instead he burst out into a fit of laughter. 

“You’re fucking k-kidding with me-e?” He managed to get out in-between wheezes. 

Her miserable face was enough to answer his question, but she nodded and said, “And apparently, from the information my brother gave me, they were all rather unimpressive.” 

“Oh. My. Gods.” Clutching his stomach his laugh worsened and he keeled over onto his side, tears blurring his vision. She started to laugh with him slightly and covered her mouth with a hand, but her eyes gave away her smile. 

“Fenrys it’s not funny. I couldn’t close my eyes for weeks, because all I saw were small flaccid dicks.” 

All of a sudden everything was silent. He quickly righted himself and just stared at her. The laughter was gone, some tears were still falling down his cheeks, chasing each other. Her smile vanished and a worried look replaced it. 

“What did I say. I’m sorry about what I said before, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to get you flustered so I could kick you off, but I know it was wrong and I just—“ Fenrys cut her rambling off with a hand to her impossibly soft cheek. 

This female had successfully gotten him out of a panic attack, made him laugh like he hasn’t in over 100 years, and then when she said his name it was like the sun parting two storm clouds. A sun that was now shining down on him. 

“You said my name,” was all he said. He dropped his hand when she started to look guarded again. “Well that was the worst story I have ever heard and I think I have doubts about your observation skills.” 

“I was 17, I’ve learned a lot since then,” her taunting tone coming back in full force. 

“I’m sure you have, but I’m still going to go around the city and write Male and Female on all of the bath house doors.”

Her laughter fell around him like silk.

“You are not!” She said still laughing, but they both were turning as the chamber door opened. 

—

Vel tried not to think about the story she had shared with him, the mention of her family almost sent herself over the edge, but she had the strangest urge to help him, even if that meant hurting herself. She also was trying and failing to stop thinking about the look her gave her after she spoke his name aloud for the first time. The look was so warm and the absence of lust is what struck her. It had nothing to do with him being sexually attracted to her, which was evident in his hardness that he had tried to hide earlier, and he was definitely larger than those men in the bath house all those years ago. A lot larger. 

She was very thankful when the door opened, cutting off her laughter at his last comment. She watched as the head of the queen popped out from behind the door. The shock was clear on her face at seeing Fenrys and Vel both sitting on the ground and there was no way she hadn’t heard them laughing, but she quickly schooled her face into one of neutrality. 

“I hate to break up the party, but dinner is being served and I wanted to see if either of you wanted to join.” She then looked directly at Vel and continued, “Or if you are still not feeling well, we can have someone bring something up for you.” 

Vel was shaken by the kindness, and almost agreed to come down, but she was not ready to face their whole court yet. Not after what happened with her powers and what had just happened with Fenrys, so she said, “Thank you, but I think I should probably head home. I already feel as though I have taken too much of your time and kindness, and do not want to be a burden any longer.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day, so you will not be leaving to go walking through the forest at night. I will have someone bring food up to you and if you try to leave, which I seriously doubt you are strong enough to do so, we will have someone guard your door.” The voice was that of a queen, but Vel knew that she wasn’t keeping her here to make sure she was okay, but to make sure that the kingdom was safe, from an uncontrolled powerful fae female. 

Vel just nodded and Aelin relaxed slightly. Fenrys then stood and put a hand out to help Vel do the same. Without looking at the queen he said, “Aelin I will meet you downstairs in a couple of minutes. Don’t let Lorcan and Rowan eat all of the meat.”

Aelin let out a small laugh and left mumbling something about bastard fae males and their bottomless pits they called stomachs. 

Alone again, Vel looked to Fenrys and suddenly felt exposed. She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around her waist. His lips angled downward, as if he was unhappy. 

Even with the light gone from his face he still his voice still managed to flow with warmth as he spoke. “Thank you for helping me.” He continued, but sounded more unsure, “The others don’t know about… um my… uh episodes. I don’t think it will come up, but if we… could um keep that between us.”

“I would never tell anyone and thanks are not necessary,” she said and watched him nod and turn toward the door. She didn’t move as he turned back towards her. 

“How did you know that telling me that story would work?” 

“It’s what my father used to do for me, when I went through the same thing.” His eyebrows raised at the admission, but wisely didn’t ask her to say anything further. He closed the door with a small smile.

Vel turned back toward the bed and sat down. She hadn’t realized how tired she was and would probably fall back asleep before her food was delivered.

She had only just laid down when she heard a knock at the door. Shooting up into a sitting position she watched the door open and Fenrys’s head to come back into view. He cocky grin was back and she felt relieved at the more normal behavior. 

“Oh and Vel, I want you to know that fae males have quite a significant difference in average length than that of human men.” Her eyebrows raised. “And for scientific and comparative purposes only, I would gladly show you one above average, even for fae.”

The door closed quickly as a pillow went hurling through the air and hit the door with a thud. 

[lunasaturnine]

What would musicology look like? Would it look like lots of memes? Lol.

The purpose of this post was to be excited about the Future but where did all those thoughts go?

Just to let myself wander and dream…

During my wisdom a few days ago it became apparent that I AM a MUSICOLOGIST since whenever I stop doing things, musicology is what I start doing. Even if I do end up playing as well, I always have to study the music first or else I’m unhappy. Playing isn’t the first thing I want to do. I understand playing is very important, but it’s a means to an end and performance isn’t super interesting to me.

On the other hand, when I do perform well, I change people’s lives, so idk haha Can I be a musicologist for performers? Yes I absolutely can. The disconnect between understanding of music and performance of music is baffling to me.

What if I get there by staying on the same road I’m on, with my studio? They are so fun and I feel so empowered by my training.

I feel a lack in my life because I am not employed by a university. I do not have the special relationship with students, of handing down sacred knowledge, that my professors had with me. That yearning in my heart has been covered up by several things: my trauma with grad school, professors bitching about how they don’t like any of their students except me and my Franz, and general intimidation by the red tape of university, and pressure to balance teaching and researching. Plus, the general fear of narrowing down anything, because it means acknowledging all the things I will Never Be…

That’s not true though. I am having a more sensual relationship with… the… invisible world hahaha. I had a moment of holism, whatever u want to call it, washing the dish last night, realizing everything was connected, realizing washing the dish was partaking in every thing that I want in the world. It seems like a profound understanding, that I’ve fought for? Or grown towards, determinedly and without guidance, my whole life. It also seems like it’s a necessary precursor to enjoying literally anything about life.

How does the fact that everything is a part of everything else influence my general anxiety about career and the future? It can really soothe all kinds of anxieties if I invite it to do so. Here I invite it….

Mmm

Every single dream I have, every single reality I want, I can touch in every moment. I can lift the cup to my mouth in a way that makes everything impossible or a way that makes everything possible anD FULL OF GLITTER. Wow. That’s… different. I feel the reality of that, more so than I did just two or three days ago. WOW!

So I should dream. Well. When I don’t feel capable of many things, my dreams all feel bad and I send them away. But once I loved music with everything I had, and I studied it so much that I became fluent in its languages and qualified to be a cultural leader. Can I be a Cultural leader? I think I can, but only if I am inspired, which… I don’t necessarily feel right now. What I feel inspired about is the community-building aspects of music, more so than the intrinsic ones. Hmm… I’m really interested in the idea that music can be playable WELL by people of multiple skill levels. I’m really inspired by my little orchestra, of my students, and their joy and beauty and radiance. That whole thing was so wished-for.

This is still music and it’s still the little details that made music so interesting to me, but applied on a different scale. For instance, emphasizing the downbeats of Nun Ska Vi Skorda Linet Idag rather than creating a whole harmony line is brilliant… not in the sense that it’s inaccessible knowledge or no other person could have come up with it, but it is not necessarily the most direct approach, and it is inspired and correct. Even in this less elite atmosphere, I still have access to the kind of brilliance that improves people’s lives. And it’s accessible.

Hey!!! That makes me feel really good.

Here are degrees I might want to get:

A DMA at McGill

HEY! I just got an email from that guy. Looks like he’s chamber music AND orchestral studies too. Hahhaha

Well that could be cool! I could also get some kind of master’s in musicology from somewhere… in Edinburgh…

I feel less intimidated by the name of degrees, because I think of my grandfather, a very empowered and well-regarded herpetologist, whose degrees were in entomology. It’s okay to be a generalist, as long as you feel empowered to do your work. That’s what I’ve been lacking, that sense of empowerment, dignity, ability. Is that what I’ve been gathering in this second half of my twenties? Let’s say so. Hahaha

Well honestly, it has been good to DO things. To have a structure that isn’t exactly someone else’s (except my students’). It’s shown me that I am capable and smart and innovative. Hmm.

Okay this is a nice self-esteem post. McGill has always felt resonant to me. I would have to learn French, which I am opposed to on many levels. Harrumph

[call-me-nerdy]

Felix doesn't have "Vacations"

Felinette November Day 4; Vacation

It's late, sorry.

So I had a vague idea of what to do, but it went off the rails real quick. I'm not proud of the ending, but I'll live.

I couldn't finish this yesterday because of well, school. So I'll probably do a double update one of these days to catch up on schedule.

-----

Felix Agreste is endearing.

Semestral break crept up on Felix like a fox stalking an unsuspecting prey; slow and steady before pouncing on him with a hectic onslaught of extracurricular activities on his schedule.

Felix would say he was merely inconvenienced by the numerous 'hobbies' his mother had requested him to partake in, but that didn't mean he wasn't overwhelmed by her overeager plans.

The timetable was light in his hands, though it honestly seemed to weigh him down with every task that was printed on the pristine, white paper. Felix scanned the letters in disdain, a faint throbbing started to grow at the back of his head.

A modeling gig on Monday, followed by a violin recital on Tuesday. Wednesday entails a whole day rehearsal with the local Chamber Orchestra, and we are set to perform on Friday at night. I have to assist with the fencing classes on Thursday, and another modeling event on Friday afternoon before the performance. Add my daily study sessions and the projects I have to finish into the mix, and I'm positive that this is impossible to achieve.

Felix bit back a groan. He knew how awfully ambitious his mother could get, but even he had to admit that this was edging on to overkill at this point. The thought of Monday alone l was enough to drown his mind with poisonous dread– draining Felix of the motivation that he tried desperately to keep. It didn't help that these kinds of events were already preplanned appointments, locking Felix out of any opportunity to just *ditch* them in favor of laying on his bed with an absurd amount of sweets. Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering words of frustration under his breath.

"Grumpy today, aren't we. What's on your mind?" The familiar voice rang clear, the scent of freshly baked bread tickled his nose. Felix looked up to meet cheeky, bluebell eyes staring back. Marinette smiled at him, a tray of freshly baked croissants in her hands.

Felix inhaled the aroma, savoring the phantom taste of croissants on his tongue. He sighed, reaching out for a croissant. "Keen-eyed as ever, Dupain-Cheng." Felix quickly retracted his arm when Marinette slapped it away.

"Not until you tell me why you're grumbling over there." She set the tray on the table, and with a swift movement, plopped down on the seat in front of Felix.

"My mother gave me my schedule for the week today. And because it's semestral break, she took extra care to make my vacation, and I quote, productive." Felix emphasized his point with air quotes, handing the paper to Marinette. "And as much as it is a nuisance, her overeager involvement in my extracurricular activities is barely an uncommon occurence."

Marinette winced, "Wow. This is overkill. Is this even a vacation anymore?"

"It's an eyesore." Felix grumbled, taking a croissant from the tray. The pastry broke easily in his mouth. Flaky and crisp, it melted into raw happiness on his tongue.

Marinette giggled, "Well, best of luck to you. I bet you can't even survive 'til next week without me." she challenged.

Felix clicked his tongue, "Oh, please. I may have a hectic schedule, but it's still a vacation from seeing you tripping on air every five minutes." he rolled his eyes, taking another bite of his croissant.

Marinette stuck out her tongue, "Maybe so. But admit it, you can't live without me for a whole week." she said as she took a croissant for herself

"Keep on dreaming, Dupain-Cheng. I can survive very well without your cheeky comments." Felix scoffed, only to recieve Marinette's smug smirk in return.

"We'll see, Agreste." She giggled, "We'll see."

-----

Marinette didn't like liars. In fact, she openly despised them.

Perhaps her hatred for untruths stemmed from her strong sense of justice; a trait that, although it was already prominent in her life before Ladybug, was carefully nurtured and encouraged by Tikki to the point that it was nearly a fault. Marinette wouldn't have it any other way.

Yes, she may lie on a semi-regular basis, but it was only always when she needed to get away to transform into Paris' superhero, Ladybug. Marinette hated lying almost as she hated liars themselves. And so when she came to the conclusion that she loved teasing Felix Agreste, who was she to deny the truth? Denying it would've made her as bad as Lila Rossi, and Marinette absolutely refused to be likened to that witch.

She couldn't help herself. Felix was the stereotypical 'Ice King' at surface level: cold, reserved, and refused to show any weakness at all costs. So seeing his pale cheeks rapidly color a shade of pink, and him trying so desperately and failing to fight the flush everytime that she jested and poked fun at his little quirks, – It was not only hilarious, but outright endearing.

Felix Agreste is endearing.

Last week was no different.

Felix arrived earlier than usual at the bakery. Hell, she had only woken up about thirty minutes prior to her Papa announcing that a friend was asking for her downstairs. Marinette scrambled to make herself presentable, and went downstairs rather chaotically with a few fresh bruises on her ankles. Armed with a tray of freshly baked croissants, she scurried to their usual table only to see Felix looking awfully grumpy in his seat — well, grumpier than he usually was. Marinette may be a sometimes most of the time, tripping over her feet and bumping into random objects. But make no mistake, that despite all her shortcomings, she was observant. Observant enough to notice the frustration that shaped Felix's frown and his troubled countenance as he bit down on his lip. She had noticed his narrowed eyes, scrunched up nose and the way his fists tightly clenched the paper he glared at so furiously.

And so she greeted him heartily, hiding her concern when she asked why he looked so glum.

Apparently, his mother had filled his whole week with events. A photoshoot here, a rehearsal there, it all seemed so taxing. Felix had claimed that his mother was merely 'overeager', and that he had survived such schedules multiple times in his past. Marinette would've voiced her opinion of his mother expecting too much from him, but she ultimately decided to bite back her assumptions until after she had actually met Ms. Agreste. Instead, she did the best she could to lift his spirits with a few innocent jokes.

When he left, she made sure to give him a bag full of sweet pastries to lighten his mood. She knew how that boy loved sugar.

She continued to send some pastries to him everyday, with little cheeky notes sneakily attached to the inside of the paper bags. Macarons, pain au chocolats, croissants, cookies and even straight up chocolate arrived to his doorstep every morning. Yes, every morning. Marinette had forced herself to wake up every Seven AM just to make the poor boy some sweets. Tikki teased her about it for hours.

Maman and Papa are rubbing off on her.

Nevertheless, she just wished that Felix wouldn't get hospitalized over exhaustion. Actually, Marinette prayed that he would be alive on their next Sunday Afternoon meetup.

Which was today.

Felix entered the bakery with a subtle skip in his step, gray eyes frantically scanning the whole room in search of something.

Of someone.

When Felix finally met her gaze, Marinette could've sworn that *relief* flickered in his eyes.

The boy walked hastily to their table, sitting across Marinette,

"A bit enthusiastic today, are you?Welcome back." Marinette handed him a cup of hot chocolate.

He took the cup, and nodded. Now that was strange, Marinette thought. She was so used to him having witty comebacks for her every bite. Why was Felix acting so bashful?

"Thank you for the pastries." He finally said, his voice was slow and uncertain.

"You're welcome! It's no problem at all!"

"..."

He was silent again.

"Hey, Fé. Is something wrong?" Marinette asked him gently. Her worry grew every second that Felix maintained his averted gaze.

She frowned. Did he have a fever? If he did, then he shouldn't have come here! Marinette reached over the table to put her hand on Felix's forehead.

Felix drew back in surprise, pink started to appear on the skin of his neck up to his cheeks.

"Do you have a fever, Fé?

Felix forced a scoff, "I... am perfectly fine, Dupain-Cheng."

She deadpanned, "It doesn't look like it."

"W-well, I am." Did Felix just stutter?

"Then why weren't you answering me?" Marinette frowned. Felix being unsure of himself was strange.

A guilty look flashed on Felix's expression, "... My apologies, Marinette. I was simply... panicked because of our previous conversation."

Marinette's eyes widened, "Oh my God."

"Yes, I– what?"

"You actually used my name!" She squealed, a grin stretching across her lips.

"I..." He trailed off, the pink on his skin grew a few shades darker.

Marinette gaped. Felix Agreste; Resident Salt King, honor student, overachiever, sharp-tongued, cool and collected Felix Agreste, was right in front of her with no witty comeback, as red as a tomato, avoiding her eyes and pouting? In what world?!

Then it hit her.

Felix was pouting.

She cackled. Uncontrollably cackled.

Oh my gosh, that's adorable.

"Pfft, Ahaha! Y-you should see your f-face!" Marinette wheezed, clutching her stomach in laughter.

Felix sat in front of her, his face was all red.

She gasped for breath, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Marinette wiped a tear. She cleared her throat, "Why were you worried?"

Felix took a deep breath, "Through a number of contemplations, as well as evidence of a few peculiar moments in the week, I have deducted that you were correct in your prediction." Felix sped through his sentence.

"Uhm, what?" Marinette could barely understand his overly convoluted words; he was more verbose than usual, an air of uncharacteristic awkwardness surrounded him.

"AllthroughouttheweekIfeltthattherewasalwayssomethinglackinginmyeverydaylifeIhadnoonetotalktoandgivemewittyremarksandthiscausedmetobescoldedsomanytimesbecauseIkeptspacingoutand—" Marinette's eyes widened.

"Felix, slow down!"

"Idon'tknowwhatI'mfeelingbecauseI'vebeverreallyhadarelationshipwithanyoneaboveacquaintancesandIdon'tevenknowifyouconsidermeafriendand–"

Marinette stood up and pinched his cheek.

"Felix! Calm. Down!" She cried. Felix snapped out of his wordy breakdown.

"Apologies." Felix cleared his throat.

He was worried about a previous conversation they had? She was correct in her predictions? What in the world–

Oh. Marinette thought back on their last meetup.

Ohhh.

"Wait. Are you saying that you missed me?" Marinette couldn't stop the glee that bubbled frantically in her chest.

Felix looked at his hands, "I... If that is the term, t-then I suppose so."

Marinette almost squealed.

"Oh my Kw- that was adorable." She gushed, pinching Felix's cheeks once more.

"Hmmpf–" His face glowed scarlet at this point, Felix his flustered expression behind cupped hands.

Felix Agreste is endearing, and Marinette couldn't understand why anyone would think otherwise.

[ailelie]

In which Fjord and Jester invite Caleb into their relationship.

It starts when Caleb dreams of Jester and talks in his sleep. Fjord, on watch, overhears and realizes that Caleb likes Jester. 

After the initial jealousy, he realizes that Caleb is not doing anything to pursue her. 

In fact, Caleb offers to help set up a date for Fjord and Jester as he did for Beau and Yasha. Fjord initially declines, but then Caleb responds, "Ah, ja, of course. It is available, though, that's all." And he seems resigned, which is what leads Fjord to go, "Actually..." 

The date is perfect. It feels like a gift. Fjord has trouble enjoying it, though, because he only really sees Caleb going all out for Jester. But he also sees Caleb trying to ensure their relationship is a success and it opens up a small pit of guilt he knows he has no reason to feel. He isn't responsible for Caleb's feelings. Caleb isn't acting on his feelings. Jester chose him. And yet. 

When he catches Caleb having a nightmare on another night at the end of his watch, Fjord awakens Veth for the next watch and asks what should be done. Veth says Caleb needs to be held and Fjord says "All right" before Veth can do anything. He lays down behind Caleb and pulls him in close and feels him relax against his chest. Sleep follows quickly. When he awakens, he is still holding Caleb and Jester is watching them, her fingers twitching for a pencil. Fjord blushes and stammers to explain, which awakens Caleb who goes red as he pulls away. Jester just laughs and waves all explanations and embarrassment away. 

Later Fjord asks Caleb how frequently he has nightmares and Caleb first pushes him off with an "I'm fine." But Fjord pushes and Caleb holds out his arm and asks, "What do you think?" Which is an answer for sure. 

Fjord starts to pay more attention. He sees Caleb always accepting more than his share of the blame and thinks again about how he has never even hinted to Jester about his feelings. 

They all reach an evening of safety and rest. Beau and Yasha go on a date. Veth goes out with her family. Caduceus goes to his room early and Caleb steals a corner table to sit and work. And Fjord looks at Jester and thinks about going out with her, but instead he says "Do you want to stay here? Bother Caleb?" Jester glances at the table and says "He does look like he needs company." The band in the tavern starts playing and Jester grins. "We should make him dance, but let's dance you and me first." Fjord smiles, relieved for multiple reasons. "All right." They dance the first three songs before crashing at Caleb's table. Then Jester is up and wheedling Caleb into a dance. He doesn't deny her. Fjord knew he wouldn't. How could anyone deny Jester? He watches them. Jester flies. Caleb cracks a smile. Fjord moves toward them before he realizes what he is doing. "Cutting in?" Caleb asks like he expects it and Fjord wants to knock him off kilter, so he says "Yes" and then, turning to Jester asks, "Do you mind?" Jester beams and steps away with an elaborate bow. "By all means," she says, gesturing to Caleb. Fjord takes her place in the dance. Caleb's eyes widen and he laughs in surprise. They finish the dance and the next before Jester cuts back in and reclaims Caleb. They dance and then Fjord and Jester dance again. Eventually they get tired and collapse together at the corner table. "That was a lot of fun," Jester says. "We should do that more often." "We are usually running these days," Caleb notes. "You should have gone out like Beau and Yasha. No reason to--" "We had fun," Fjord cuts in. "Are having fun," he corrects. "Yeah, Caleb," Jester says, drawing out Caleb's name in a way Fjord has only recently started paying attention to. "Are you not having fun?" "No," he answers softly, "I am." And, in the candle and torch light, Fjord feels content. 

The next time he and Jester are alone they are shopping and it isn't a date, but every moment spent with Jester feels like a gift. This time, though, part of him is absent. "You know, Fjord," Jester says suddenly. "If you have something to tell me, you should just tell me." "What?" he asks, surprised. "You still like me, don't you?" she asks. Fjord draws back. "Yes, of course I do. Why do you even ask?" "I knew you do," Jester says, smiling. "But, Fjord, do you like Caleb, too?" And the question throws him entirely. "No," he says automatically, but Jester just gives him an unimpressed look. "If you say so," she says, unconvinced. Fjord is certain in his 'no' until he sees Caleb again. His hair has fallen loose from its tie again. His fingertips are stained with ink. He glances up when Fjord and Jester return and nods at them and Fjord thinks shit. Because Caleb likes Jester, not Fjord. This is a mess. He can't like two people at once. Jester apparently reads his thoughts on his face, because she just raises her brow at him and Fjord can feel his face warm with a blush. "Is everything all right?" Caleb asks. Jester grabs Fjord's hand and squeezes it. "Everything is perfect," she says. "Is it?" Fjord asks in a low voice. "It can be," Jester replies. Caleb looks between them, clearly at a loss. "All right then."

“What did you mean earlier,” Fjord asks that night when he and Jester are on watch together.  “About what?” Jester asks. Her head is resting on his shoulder. Their hands are entwined.  “Everything is perfect?” “Oh. Relationships can have more than two people, Fjord,” she says, utterly matter-of-fact. “You should read more books.” “I suppose I should.” He waits a moment and then asks, “Is that something you want?” “For you to read more?” Jester asks in a tone of voice that he knows is teasing, but Fjord isn’t in the mood for banter.  “Caleb.” “I don’t know. I liked seeing you together dancing.” “You were gorgeous with him.” “He’s pretty too. And he likes pranks. Did you see him leave a celebone with Allura?” “I must have missed that.” “He always goes along with my tricks.” “Are we really going to do this?” “I think so. I’m going to have boyfriends.” He kisses the back of her hand.

The next time they are going to bed, Fjord snags Caleb’s sleeve. “Are you sure you’ll be all right alone.” “Ja, I’ll be fine.” Caleb seems mystified by his concern.  Fjord catches Jester’s eye. She claps her hands together. “We should have a sleepover,” she declares.  Caleb caves to her like Fjord knew he would, but the rest of the group prefers their beds. “If you need to cuddle,” Jester says to Caleb later, “you should say something.” “I don’t need--” “You have nightmares,” Fjord cuts in. “Veth said it helps if you’re held?” Caleb’s cheeks are burning red. “I’m fine.” “Please let us help you, Caleb.” She takes his hands into her own. Fjord puts a hand on his shoulder. He feels the moment Caleb gives in.  The sleepover is nixed, but that night, Fjord and Jester go to Caleb’s room.  Caleb lets them in without looking in their eyes. “This is really not necessary.” “You need sleep, Caleb.” So they curl into bed together. Fjord holds Jester’s hand over Caleb’s hip. “This is ridiculous,” Caleb says. “Go to sleep,” Fjord says, pressing his and Jester’s hands down. Caleb quiets and eventually falls asleep.

In the morning Jester asks Caleb if he had a nightmare that night and Caleb says, “No.” Fjord stretches. “So we’re doing that more often then?” He is shocked at how easy this is. He likes being in on a scheme with Jester. He likes provoking the pink in Caleb’s cheeks. When they exit Caleb’s room, Fjord gives Jester a kiss. “We’re still okay, right?” “Yes,” she promises. Veth’s door opens and she catches them outside Caleb’s. She raises both brows. “Did you get lost?” Fjord’s cheeks burn, but Jester just lightly answers, “No.”

From then on, Fjord and Jester spend time together shopping and on watches, but they also make an effort to draw Caleb in when they can. They pull him into conversation over dinner and crowd his bed at night.

“What is this?” Caleb asks one night, letting them into his room. “Wouldn’t you rather spend your night together rather than with me?” Jester looks at Fjord and he realizes that this is move. “We like you,” he says gruffly.  “What?” Caleb asks, blankly. “But you’re together.” “And we want to be together with you, too,” Jester says, “But even if you say ‘no’ we’ll still cuddle with you at night so that you can sleep.” “I need to think.” He goes into his bedroom.  Fjord grabs Jester’s hand. “Do you think we should have said something sooner?” “Maybe.” They fall asleep in on the couch in the outer chamber, awakening when Caleb finds them early in the morning. It is clear he hasn’t slept.  “You like me.” He says it like an accusation. Fjord stretches. “Yes.” Part of him wants to pull Caleb down onto the couch with him and Jester. “Why?”  “Lots of reasons, Caleb.” “You’re generous,” Fjord says.” Jester nods, her horns scratch against his neck. “Kind.” “A good man.” “And cute.” Caleb closes his eyes, pained. “You know what I’ve done. You can’t--” “We do and we can.” “You like us, too, don’t you, Caleb?” Jester asks. “That doesn’t matter.” His hands are in fists at his side. And Fjord feels something like hope, because until now he had thought Caleb only liked Jester, that this relationship might only ever be hinge, but Caleb cannot meet either of their gazes. He has a chance.  “Will you promise to think more on it?” Fjord asks. “On us?” “I still don’t understand, but I will.” It is enough for now.

There is a fight. There’s always a fight. Their lives are tiny isles of calm surrounded by chaos of running and fighting. No one nearly dies, but in the aftermath, Fjord pulls Jester into a tight hold and kiss. When he lets go, he sees Caleb watching them and so he holds out his hand to pull Caleb into the embrace. To his delight, Caleb accepts.

Jester gifts them both with a set of romantic novels about polyamorous relationships. 

They figure things out.

[kindness-ricochets]

The Feast of Sankt Nikolai

Working title: Sinterklaas in Ketterdam

Corporalki: @flowerboynoah @sassysaltysarcasticstupid

Materialki: @imjustsomebodyelse @rootcellars [x]  @sargents

Summary: Several years have passed since the Ice Court job and the winter holidays are approaching! For Jesper and Wylan, this means a chance to take a break from business and spend time with family—including Marya; Colm, visiting from Novyi Zem; Inej, on a brief stop from hunting slavers on the True Sea; and Wylan’s half-sister. But Ketterdam never stops. Wylan should be focused on convincing the rest of the Merchant Council to approve spending for public education… and he would be, if he weren’t distracted by a body on the docks in Hanraat Bay.

Merriment, merchers, and murder—’tis the season, Ketterdam-style.

Ao3 Link 

In four and a half years, many things had changed for Jesper Fahey. He no longer lived in the Barrel, though he still lived in Ketterdam, and he was no longer a university dropout, but approaching completion of his degree. His body had taken pity and finally allowed him to grow a beard, though he was clean-shaven for now. It was more the knowledge that he could, if he wanted, have a beard. He kept his hair long, in Zemeni-style braids.

As he strode past two members of the stadwatch, he nodded in greeting and the men nodded back, familiar. He did not pause his stride. That was one thing that hadn't changed: as ever, Jesper was running late. He hurried up the stairs to the second story.

Jesper still dressed Barrel-bright, though. He had lost his jacket somewhere—in the pub? By the time the cold pierced his shirt, he had been too far along to turn back, already behind schedule—but his wine-red shirt and plaid trousers set off his paisley brocade waistcoat delightfully. A man could be a responsible university student and maintain his style!

Even as he heard voices spilling out from the theater where the Merchant Council held meetings, Jesper continued to lament the loss of his jacket. It wasn't a particularly nice jacket, but it was a particularly chilly corridor.

Sodding Kerch, he thought.

Six years of living in Ketterdam might have made him as familiar with the city as any nativeborn Kerch, but he would still curse their tight-fistedness on the heating budget. It was a government building, for the Saints' sake!

Jesper opened the door and slipped onto the balcony. Other observers crowded in; though he tried to edge closer, he knew he wouldn't be getting a prime spot. Instead, he craned his neck to get a view. At least the acoustics were good. The moment he opened the door, a crisp voice had washed over him, pitched to reach the rafters. He knew for a fact that voice was pitched to reach the rafters. He had been present for the elocution lessons.

"…that this proposal diverts badly needed funds away from the city, away from Ketterdam's hardworking denizens, on a project we do not need!"

"Do not need?" repeated another member of the Council. Jesper recognized the voice—Hiram Schenck. Voice like a frog, with a face to match. Schenck was true Kerch. All that had value had value in coin.

"Podge," Jesper muttered.

A second Councilman added, "Kerch needs its defenses. Kerch needs its safety. Or we may as well call ourself Shu Han!"

Boreg's logic sounded good, at least enough to earn murmurs of disapproval from the gallery. They did not wish to be called Shu Han. Well, neither did Jesper. He still woke up in a cold sweat sometimes from dreams about the kherguud. It didn't matter how many reasonable intellectual arguments he heard; Jesper did not hate the Shu, but their Fabrikator-modified soldiers left him with a deep fear of them.

"We have the Council of Tides," replied Wylan.

"Clever thing."

"Shh!" whispered someone beside Jesper.

Jesper didn't care. Wylan was clever, and just as Jesper needed reminders from time to time that he was safe, Wylan needed reminders that he was smart. Some wounds took a long time to fade. The Council of Tides and Merchant Council had their own power struggles, but those were carefully concealed from the public.

When he first saw Wylan, Jesper thought of him as a lost prince. He still saw Wylan that way, in his more romantic moments, simply no longer lost—found, cleaned up, made a man but never made a king. And today, Saints, his prince was shining.

"We have a more than formidable arsenal! What do we show the Zemeni and the Southern States if we insist our trade routes need more protection? They are our allies! What do we show the people of this city if we bankrupt their children's schools to pay for weapons to sit and wait for a war that may never come? Kerch must learn its lessons from Ravka, see how that country suffered from its wars and learn not to court our own."

"And if the Fjerdans should recover well enough to enter the fray?" asked Naten Boreg.

Fjerda was a changing country, but its strong military tradition prevailed. Had he not been over the figures again and again to prepare Wylan for this, Jesper might have felt the fear of that statement. He knew Wylan was frustrated down there. He must want to throw out the arguments he used with Jesper when they were alone: Kerch had a strong enough military now, they were strong at sea, Schenck's arguments had more to do with his mines than his fears! Jesper simply saw it as a sound approach. When you have Kerch's sole ruthenium mine, naturally, you argue that Kerch needs ruthenium. Needs weapons. Made sense. But his sweet, optimistic revolutionary continued to believe people ought to think of the greater good.

"We trust our allies in Ravka—"

"After what they did just a few years ago?" Schenck cut in. Jesper nodded to himself. He didn't like Schenck, so he had been particularly amused when the man thought he had pulled one over on the king of Ravka and brought home false submersible plans.

"Even so," Wylan insisted.

"The Ravkans have no love of the Fjerdans, either," offered Karl Dryden. "If Fjerda builds up its weapons again, Ravka is at the greatest risk."

"Our junior members seem to forget that the duty of this Council is to protect Kerch," sniped Boreg.

Jesper smiled. "Idiot," he muttered happily, earning himself another shush.

"My esteemed colleague," Wylan said, addressing Boreg with those silly, adorable merch manners, "the schools you would take these funds away from for one more submersible, they have already shown to benefit the children of Ketterdam. Fewer children are dying and more are finding their way into apprenticeships with even a year or two of education. Do we want to protect against an attack we might not face instead of continuing to fight dangers we do? Dangers like malnutrition and disease? These programs do protect Kerch, because what is Kerch—"

"If not her people!"

The line had put Wylan's name in the paper a few years ago. Years on, they still weren't tired of it. They broke the protocol of silence to shout it at him. With him.

Wylan had timed his speech perfectly. The bells announced three-quarter chime. The Merchant Council would be getting restless, would want to get home to their warm parlors and suppers.

Jellen Radmakker banged his gavel and called a vote.

Jesper already knew how Wylan would vote, and Dryden would follow as he often did. Dryden was not an impressive man in his own right, so he followed after Wylan—not openly, he was clever enough to deviate some and not look like a follower, but only on the smaller votes. When Wylan was this worked up, Dryden would follow. Similarly, Schenck and Boreg would oppose. Hoede would probably follow Wylan's side, Smit the opposing. Hoede, Dryden, and Wylan had come into their positions at close to the same time, but only Wylan, the youngest by far, had anything to bring besides more of the same. Hoede and Dryden tended to follow him more often than not.

When it came to the final vote, there were six for the military expansion and five against, with Van Aakster abstaining. Jesper still felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins, barely down from the kick it got when Van Aakster abstained. Abstained! Wild card!

A man could have as much fun at a political debate as he could at the card table if he looked for it.

The final vote cast was Radmakker's, and it drew an uncertain reaction from the crowd.

"Draw," announced Radmakker, "the Council will reconvene for an emergency session to resolve the matter at seven bells and half chime tomorrow. So ordered."

He banged his gavel, and with that, the meeting was adjourned.

"What was that?" someone in the gallery muttered.

"Waste of time," replied another.

"A damn show," complained a third.

Jesper let the crowd carry him along, listening as the discussion continued. Overall the people seemed malcontent with the outcome. He was inclined to agree. All the build-up to a cliffhanger? He was ready to be elated! He was ready to be furious! He was not ready to be postponed for a day. The Council would be especially fussed at the loss of a holiday. Sacred is Ghezen, but the winter holiday was apparently even more sacred than commerce.

On the first floor, Jesper fell back and let the crowds thin before starting against the tide.

He wasn't actually allowed in the Council chamber. No one was but the Councilmen, despite the stadwatch posted by the door recognizing Jesper. He didn't bother arguing. A few of the Councilmen passed, greeting him by name. Even those who didn't like Jesper or didn't like Wylan had accepted that the two were a pair. Merchers to the last, they kept their manners. Jesper was almost impressed not only by how many cast nervous glances at his revolvers, but how many managed to greet him anyway. Just for Wylan, Jesper did not antagonize the merchers. He could have casually pushed up his sleeves and given a glimpse of the crow and cup tattooed on his right arm—but the weather today was too cold for that, and Jesper was actively trying not to alienate the people Wylan had to work with.

Speaking of whom…

"Jes!"

Wylan's face lit up, a sight Jesper only had a moment to enjoy before Wylan was hugging him like it had been weeks rather than hours since they were last together. Jesper would never get tired of that.

"How was it?" Wylan asked, pulling back, searching Jesper's face for answers. He was sweating, pupils wide, marked the way Jesper used to be after an hour at the tables. The only difference was that once Wylan's jitters wore off, Jesper knew he would want—need—holding and soothing. Wylan didn't actually like public speaking. It happened to be necessary to his aims and he was good at it, but he didn't like it.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine now that you're here, my blessing," he said, pressing a kiss to Jesper's knuckles.

The endearment had rankled some the first time Jesper heard it. He knew Wylan meant it literally. Wylan had always accepted Jesper's powers more easily than Jesper himself accepted them. Maybe from someone else it would have been too much, but this was his Wylan, coupling the term with an open, adoring look, and Jesper had seen no choice but to accept that to Wylan, Jesper was a blessing.

"Come on," Wylan continued, "tell me everything. Where's your coat?"

The words were barely out but Wylan began removing his own coat. He had changed in the past few years, too—grown in confidence and just grown . Now they could kiss without Wylan standing on tiptoe.

By size alone, the idea of Jesper borrowing Wylan's coat was not absurd.

For every other reason, it was absolutely absurd.

Jesper stopped Wylan with a hand on his shoulder. "I don't need your coat," he said, straightening the lapels. He let his hands linger, brushing a fingertip against the necklace tucked under Wylan's shirt, eliciting a soft sigh from Wylan. Then he resettled the coat. The cold might bother him, but it wouldn't make him susceptible to illness. He was zowa. He was Grisha. Whatever you called him, that seed of magic kept him immune to germs and other feeble nonsense.

"Right, right," Wylan said. "I want to hear all about your exam!" he concluded, lacing their fingers together.

Jesper laughed. "No, you don't," he said.

"I do!"

No, he didn't.

"You've been waiting for the end of the semester since two weeks in," Jesper retorted. Usually Wylan had eagerly helped him study, listened to Jesper read off his class notes and textbooks and latched onto the information as easily as he had reports and business correspondence. This semester's course in public administration had challenged both of them to the edges of their patience. Necessary, for his goals, but dull as rocks.

That wasn't fair. Wylan liked rocks for their history. Jesper was less impressed with sedimentary striations, but he appreciated the shiny rocks they sometimes gave one another.

"Then I'm pleased it's here," Wylan said.

"I passed and it's over?"

Wylan brought their linked fingers to his lips for a kiss as they stepped outside. Jesper swallowed a shiver. The kiss was nice. The air briefly made him wish he had accepted Wylan's coat.

"You did great."

"You always say that."

Wylan shrugged. "You always do great."

"Excuses."

"I'm sorry you're so brilliant, Jesper."

And with that, their game had begun.

"I'm sorry you make such a great study buddy."

They had a lot of games between them. Mostly they were things Jesper did, like when he would hold Wylan and demand a toll to release him, but this one Wylan had invented. The apology game. No one stated the rules. They simply evolved and were and Jesper loved it. He loved how fun their games could be in better times and the framework those games gave them when bad memories threatened to overwhelm either of them.

Wylan snickered. "Study buddy," he repeated.

"One of your many talents."

"Unlike wordplay, which is clearly your kingdom."

"Mm," Jesper replied, feeling Wylan begin to lean against him. The adrenaline was fading. Jesper unlaced their fingers to wrap his arm around Wylan's shoulders, inviting Wylan to lean more into him. They had been together for nearly a year when Wylan finally hit his growth. He was still the smaller of the two and fit tidily under Jesper's arm. Very convenient, especially at times like this. The public meetings were necessary but they wore Wylan out—not that Jesper had any complaints, either about his closeness, or about the warm windbreak he made. This was truly not the weather in which to skip one's coat.

When Jesper directed them toward a coffee house, Wylan shook his head. "We can't, Jes. Let's stop off at home instead. You need a coat."

"I'll be fine," Jesper objected, though he wanted his coat. Stubbornness required him to object.

"Jesper Llewellyn, we are going home or I will buy you a new coat, but we will not go to Second Harbor without a coat on you."

"You're not fun when you call me Llewellyn."

"I'm sorry, my love. One of us has to be practical and it's not going to be you."

Jesper snorted. "Sure, Mister Practical, the guy trying to convince the Kerch Merchant Council to invest in its schools over its weapons."

"Just you wait, that vote's going my way tomorrow morning."

"Mm, all right. Home it is. Just think what people would say if Councilman Van Eck went around with his husband in a shabby coat."

"You're not my husband yet."

Jesper laughed. "Of course, gorgeous. Just one more ring and I'll stop being hilarious."

[romioneflufffest]

We Have to Quit Meeting Like This (or Six Times Ron and Hermione Used the Hospital Wing to Flirt)

Creator: hello-blue-roses Prompt: Hospital Room, 2:38 am Description: Six drabbles over six years.  First time writing fanfiction in almost a decade so apologies in advance for any errors! Rating: T

December 27th, 1992, 2:38 am

The first time it happened was Harry’s fault.  As with so many turning points in the pair’s relationship, he was both impetus and witness.  It was a few days after the Polyjuice debacle which had landed Hermione in the Hospital Wing in the first place.  She’d been laid up there for just over a day and was still in the process of trying to convince herself that this convalescence was a good thing.  Since arriving at school back in September, she had hardly had a second to breathe.  They hadn’t even made it through the start of term feast this year without problems arising.  And between Malfoy, the Chamber of Secrets, petrifications, and the highly illegal brewing of an advanced potion in the girls’ toilets, Hermione was feeling more than a little burnt out.

A few days rest couldn’t hurt.  

This was an opportunity to focus on herself for a change, instead of Harry.  She could stay in her pyjamas all day if she liked and start one of the books her parents had sent her for Christmas.  There was nothing Hermione loved more than spending time by herself.  At least, there hadn’t been before she’d come to Hogwarts.  Now, she couldn’t make it past “I have just returned from a visit to my landlord” without getting sidetracked.  Her mind kept getting stuck on what they’d learned a few nights before.  A student had died the last time the Chamber had been opened.  A student who had Muggle parents just like her.

Hermione wasn’t too worried about her own safety, there were rarely any times that she was alone without the boys to help watch her back, but what about the first years who barely knew how hold a wand let alone protect themselves!  Colin Creevey, two beds down, served as a constant, sobering reminder.

These thoughts, continually swirling about her head, made it nearly impossible to fall asleep so she decided to pass the time with research.  Though she’d never say it out loud, especially not within earshot a certain Weasley, reading ancient dusty tomes was not by any stretch of the imagination fun.  They were incredibly dull and tiresome at times, especially when one didn’t know what they were looking for, but it was a one of life’s necessities and proved to be remarkably useful more often than not.  Like when an overactive brain needed to be turned off for the night.  With a heavy History of Magic book propped on her lap, a quill at the ready, and a whispered Lumos, Hermione began the most soporific activity she could.

Quickly, she’d gone to that place somewhere between awake and sleep, where each minute feels like an hour and each hour a minute.  She would come to, unaware she’d nodded off in the first place, scribble down a few more words, and drift off again.  One of these bouts had her more alert than usual, whether because of genuine interest or circadian rhythms, she knew not.  As she lazily skimmed through yet another goblin rebellion, a noise came from near the door.

Hermione’s head turned so quickly that she pulled something in her neck, immediately wide awake.  Grimacing, she nonetheless readied her wand in a white knuckle grip beneath the blankets.  A few moments passed, the ticking the clock growing indistinguishable from her heartbeats.  Just as she was beginning to believe she must have dreamed it, there was shuffling from the empty bed across the row.  Her stomach jumped to her throat and she had to fight every instinct that told her to duck beneath the covers.  The heir of Slytherin could be back to finish off what he’d started and Justin and Colin were completely defenseless.  Raising a shaking hand, she managed to aim her wand towards the source.  Though Hermione was putting on a brave facade, she didn’t trust herself at all to attempt a spell in this state.  Was it a person?  A wizard?  Should she try to disarm them?  Was it Dobby or a ghost?  Would Immobulous work on a non-human?  Immobulous on a ghost suddenly brought Nearly Headless Nick to mind and Nick made her think of…

‘Peeves?’

Someone snorted near her left ear.  She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and let her body slump back against the headboard at the familiar sound.  The relief didn’t last long, though, when the realization that she’d been terrorized for no reason sunk in.

With a huff, Hermione snatched up one of her pillows and scooted towards the disembodied voice.  ‘You… prats…,’ she hissed, emphasizing each word with as hard of a swing as she could manage from her recumbent position, ‘…are the most…ir-re-sponsible’ She finally connected with her target who had dissolved into giggles at her hit.  His attempt to dodge her had resulted in the cloak slipping off, in the process exposing another set of legs, and confirming her suspicions.  He jumped onto the neighboring bed, dark hair even wilder than usual, and stuck his tongue out triumphantly.  She threw the projectile at him one last time for good measure.

This scuffle had given the other culprit more than enough time to sneak to the end of her bed and grab the end of the duvet.  The bedspread bucked and bounced in waves as the person continuously yanked it up and down again.  ‘Ronald Weasley!’ she snapped after getting a face full of bedding.  ‘Enough!’

‘Who is the Ronald Weasley you speak of?  It’s me, Peeves!’ he said, in a surprisingly decent imitation.  This sent Harry into yet another fit of laughter.  Spurred on by this reaction, an unseen hand began poking at her foot until Hermione trapped his hand beneath her heel, only letting up when he finally removed the invisibility cloak.

‘Ow!  Bloody hell, Hermione!  That was my finger!’  Ron cradled it to his chest, frowning.  ‘Look, it’s broken now, thanks to you!’  He proffered the slightly red digit as proof, gingerly flexing it as he did.  

‘It’s not broken.  You’re moving it just fine.  You’ve probably jammed it.’  

‘Same difference,’ he grumbled, plopping down beside Harry.

They lapsed into silence; Harry eyeing her eerily still fellow patients, Ron grumpily glaring into his lap, and Hermione trying desperately to regain her train of thought.

‘So…’ Harry finally started, ‘how are you feline?’  Ron guffawed loudly before clamping his apparently broken fingers over his mouth to stifle his sniggers.

Hermione sighed, ‘Look, if you’ve just come to pick on me-’

‘We haven’t.  I swear,’ Ron cut in, trying very hard not to smile.  Harry nodded along enthusiastically.  

She opened her mouth to ask them why on earth they were sneaking around the castle at a time like this when a light flicked on behind the door at the far end of the ward.  The two boys scrambled to their feet, quickly disappearing from view as Hermione threw herself beneath her blankets and tried to look asleep.  

June 7th, 1994, 2:38 am

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’  Ron hadn’t really meant to say it out loud.  He’d been staring up at the ceiling for over an hour, attempting to rest, but unable to partially due to his broken leg but mostly because of this niggling feeling of betrayal that he hadn’t been able to shake.  The question had been plaguing him ever since Dumbledore’s visit earlier in the night.  It’d finally become too much to bear and had slipped out, hardly above a whisper.  A few moments passed, and just as Ron was starting to relax, thinking he’d got away with it, he heard movement from his left.

From the sound of it, she’d turned over to face him but he was too much of a coward to verify and so he continued to stare at the dull grey stone as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.  He knew what she’d say if she was, in fact, awake.  ‘I don’t know how that’s any of your business,’ in that stiff, haughty tone she used when ever she knew she was right.  Her lips pursed, eyebrow cocked, challenging him to deny it.  God, it drove him mad.  She was so self-righteous and condescending and-

‘I wanted to.’   For a split second, he thought that he’d finally gone round the twist and imagined the small, tremulous voice.  It was the first time in the nearly three years they’d known each other that she’d ever sounded vulnerable.  And it was uncomfortable.  He’d seen known her to be anxious, uncertain, upset, sure, but this was different.  This was new.  It made his chest tighten up and made it difficult to swallow and he sort of wanted to cry.  Before he could attempt some ham-fisted consolation, she spoke again, a little louder.  ‘I’ve ruined everything.  We were finally becoming friends and then I had to go on and on about Scabbers and Buckbeak and the Nimbus 2000 and now this..’

‘What?’

‘I’m trying to apologize,’ she said, as if that clarified things.

‘No, what do you mean we were finally becoming friends?’  Even through the shadows of the dimly lit room Ron could see Hermione’s cheeks darken considerably.

‘Oh.  Well, it’s no secret, really, is it?’  At his lack of response, she continued.  ‘That you only put up with me because of Harry?’  He opened his mouth to say something, anything but once again she got there first.  ‘I just thought that maybe, after all we’ve gone through that we’d, you know, but I understand why.  I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with.’  When she’d finally finished, Ron could only manage to gape at the gasping, sniffling girl before him.

Finally, he managed to croak out the words, ‘You don’t consider us friends?’  Ron’s head was swimming more now than when he’d tried to understand the logistics of time travel.  His words seemed to break through whatever spiral Hermione’d got herself into, though, because she suddenly sat up in her bed.

‘You do?’  She wiped her face with the backs of her hands like a child and before he could second guess what he was doing, he’d shifted to the far side of his bed to make room for her. 

‘C’mere.’  At the word, she launched herself towards him, wrapping her arms around him, holding the back of his t-shirt in her little fists.  It didn’t take long for her to calm herself but neither one of them moved.  Finally, he mumbled, ‘For someone so smart, you’re really stupid sometimes.’  Her breathy laugh near his ear made his chest do that weird tightening thing again and he quickly pulled away, feeling his own face heat up.  

Hermione settled back so that her sock covered foot brushed against his hip.  ‘I think I’m just exhausted,’ she eventually sighed between shuddering breaths.

‘Well, yeah.  You’ve been living twenty-six hour days since September.  That’s to be expected.’  His attempt at a joke got a half smile before her face fell again.

‘I really did want to tell you,’ Hermione reiterated.  ‘Actually, there were a few times when I came close, but time turners can be dangerous and I thought I could handle it but it’s very overwhelming, you know?  They’re a lot of responsibility and then we kept getting in arguments and I was sure this would be the last straw.  I promise I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.  Professor McGonagall was insistent that neither of you could find out.’

Logically, this all made sense but Ron still couldn’t help butfeel a little betrayed.  She’d kept this from them for nine months.  And she’d had plenty of opportunities to come clean.  He’d confronted her on the impossibility of her schedule and her constant disappearing/reappearing act more than once.  Ron felt the bed shift as she squirmed and realized he’d yet to respond leaving her to jump to her own conclusions.  ‘I’m not angry,’ he said carefully, ‘I don’t want you to think I blame you but I still feel, I dunno, bad.”  What he wanted more than anything was to tell her that McGonagall should have never let a fourteen year old shoulder that burden let alone a fourteen year old whose best friend was mixed up in all the crazy bullshit that Harry was.  That sentiment would probably reopen the rifts they’d only recently mended, though, and he was so sick of the fighting.  ‘I’d have helped you if you’d asked.  I could have covered for you in class or done my own homework or brought you a snack.  I’m not completely useless.’

‘I’ve never thought you were.’  Ron finally glanced up to find her staring intently at a spot somewhere between their parallel legs.  He bumped his knee against hers, hoping she would understand all of the things he couldn’t put into words, all of the things he couldn’t confront yet.  Hermione sleepily smiled up at him before nudging him back and returning to her bed for the night.

June 25th, 1995, 2:38 am

‘I can’t believe he’s dead.’  The Hospital Wing had finally quieted down.  Ron and Hermione were sitting together on the bed across from Harry’s.  Other than the pile of gold and the low voices of Mrs. Weasley and Bill in the corridor, it could have been any average day.  Which made it all the more unsettling.  ‘I’ve never known someone my own age who died.’

‘Me neither,’ mumbled Ron, only half aware of what she was talking about.  You-Know-Who was back.  You-Know-Who was back.

‘…and the look on Mr. Diggory’s face-‘

‘Shut up for a second, would you?’ he snapped, dropping his head to his hands.  Surprisingly, Hermione didn’t hex him into oblivion and instead sat there waiting for him to elaborate.  ‘You don’t get it.  You’re not from here.  You don’t understand what this means.’  He sounded a lot harsher than he’d meant to, but he needed her to recognize the gravity of the situation.

‘Because I’m muggleborn?’ asked Hermione, like she was really trying to understand him instead of being annoyed or angry like she’d usually be at his clumsy words.  He nodded, trying desperately to piece his thoughts into some semblance of order.  ‘Then explain it to me.’

‘Death Eaters they- they’re not like the Slytherins or Snape.  They’re so, so much worse.  You saw how they treated those muggles.  That was child’s play compared to what they did in the last war.  They slaughtered whole families.  My mum’s brother’s were murdered.’  Her head snapped up to look at him.

‘I’m so sorry, Ron.’ 

‘Don’t be.  It’s not about that.’  He pulled his hands through his hair and turned his gaze to Harry’s sleeping form.  If he saw her face right now, he would lose it.

She took this change of focus as something else.  ’Harry’ll be alright.  He’s got Dumbledore on his side.’  The tone she used was one she usually saved for house elves and the tenderness of it made his heart clench even tighter.  ‘He’s got us, too,’ she said, slipping her arm through his.  ‘We’ll just have to support him now more than ever.  Remind him that he’s got people behind him, people that would follow him to the ends of the earth.’

Hearing her say that out loud seemed to break the dam and the flood of memories he’d been trying so hard to restrain came crashing to the surface.  Malfoy calling her ‘mudblood’, Bill and Charlie cornering him after the World Cup to reiterate how he need to watch out for her, her petrified in this exact bed two years before.

‘What are you doing this summer?’  Ron finally glanced at her, really seeing her for the first time that night.  Her hair was half falling out of it’s plait, her eyes bloodshot, but she was resolved.  And he knew that this plan was the right one.

‘Erm, I’m not sure yet.  Probably going somewhere with my parents.  Why?’

‘Well, Harry’ll most likely be at the Burrow again and you’re always welcome to, you know, come help me support him.’  

Hermione frowned and he was positive she’d figured out his ploy until she said, ‘But your mum hates me.’

‘Not anymore she doesn’t,’ he grinned, hoping beyond hope that she couldn’t see through him.  ‘C’mon, Hermione.  It’ll be fun.  And then you won’t have to spend your whole holiday worrying about boy wonder over there.’  

He didn’t know what he’d do if she said no.  Probably go mad picturing all the horrific things the Death Eaters would do to Harry Potter’s ‘girlfriend’.  His stomach was already churning at the thought of her leaving his sight tonight let alone traveling to God knows where with no way to protect herself.

He couldn’t tell her that, though.  She’d accuse of him of being overprotective and sexist and of underestimating her and they’d end up in a stalemate.  So for now, he’d just pretend it was for Harry.

June 20th, 1996, 2:38 am

‘Do you need me to go get Pomfrey?’ Ron asked, already halfway out of his bed.

‘There’s nothing more she can do,’ replied Hermione through gritted teeth.  ‘I’m already on the highest dosage of pain potions.’  He looked stricken at this so she attempted to assuage him.  ‘I’m fine, Ron.  Sleeping on my back is just taking some getting used to.’  

It was the third time that night that she’d awoken to searing pain in her chest after unconsciously flipping onto her side and, consequently, the third time Ron had too.  He’d been the one to rouse her on the first two occurrences saying that she’d started breathing funny and groaning but this time was enough to wake them both.

Ron had been offered a bed at the opposite end of the ward but for whatever reason, he’d vehemently refused.  This didn’t stop Hermione from feeling incredibly guilty about being such a hassle.  He needed rest just as much as she did.  Though he kept downplaying the extent of his injuries to her, she’d caught a few glimpses of the angry red welts on his arms when his wounds were redressed and saw him wince every time the unction was applied.  More than anything she wanted him to trust her enough to show weakness.  Did he think she’d tease him about it?  Or think less of him?  Or, as the nagging voice in the back of her head suggested, was she so terrible at this whole friendship thing that she’d misjudged how close they were?  

He startled her from this train of thought by dumping three or four pillows at her feet.  At her curious look, he sheepishly nodded towards the now pillow-less beds around them.  ‘Mum always made us sleep propped up when we got sick.  I thought it couldn’t hurt to try.’

Ron took her hands and gently pulled her into a sitting position.  Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out so as not to worry him any more.  He quickly set about arranging them, attempting to fluff the worn, old cushions and building a barrier of bedding along her left side.

‘There,’ he said after a few minutes.  ‘Hopefully that helps.  Thought this might stop you turning over.’  Ron rubbed at his reddening neck before looking hopefully up at her.

‘I- thank you.’  He just shrugged and moved to help her lay back.  She couldn’t tell if the warmth she suddenly felt was gratitude, fever, embarrassment, or some combination of all three.  Ron returned to his own bed and she attempted, once more, to fall asleep.

‘Hermione?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m really glad you’re okay.’  His voice was thick and somewhat strangled and she felt a lump forming in her own throat at it.

‘I’m really glad you’re okay, too, Ron.’

March 8th, 1997, 2:38 am

The first thing he said upon opening his eyes was, ‘We have to quit meeting like this.’  And she began weeping in response.  Not in the pretty, Scarlett O’Hara-esque way Parvati did or the teary-eyed-stony-faced method that Ginny favored.  No, Hermione Granger wept in earnest; crumpled, swollen, snotty.  She’d been too incoherent to explain any of what’d happened to him so he’d ended up hearing the story from Madame Pomfrey while she administered a checkup.  

Apparently, there were privacy rules surrounding patient’s confidentiality and Hermione had dutifully gone to leave but before she could stand, his large, freckled hand had clamped onto her knee, effectively locking her into her chair.  Madame Pomfrey had tried to argue about permission and protocol and Ron had reminded her that his recent birthday meant he was now ‘legally able to consent’ (he’d glanced sideways at Hermione to say the last bit with a smirk that she was fairly certain would power her patronus until the end of time).  Their little rendezvous was cut short, though, as that morning’s classes started fifteen minutes after he came to.

The next few days hadn’t allowed for any time alone with him, especially once word had reached Lavender of his recovery.  It wasn’t until Harry’s injury that she had an excuse to be there at all hours again.  After the emotional rollercoaster of her past week, it was unsurprising when she ended up dozing off between their beds late one night.

Hermione slowly awoke to a shuffling sound as Madame Pomfrey made her potion rounds.  The muffled exchange between the nurse and Ron broke through the haze

‘Didn’t I tell you to wake her two hours ago, Mr. Weasley?’

‘Well, yes, but you also tell us all the time how important it is to get a good night’s sleep.’

‘In your own dormitories, not in my infirmary.’

‘She isn’t bothering anyone.’

‘Clearly the matter is keeping you up, though.’

‘I woke up when you came in.  I’m a really light sleeper.’ 

‘Good try.  If she’s still here when I come back around at five I’ll be forced to give a detention, do you understand?  Students are required to be in bed at that time.  No exceptions, not even for prefects.’

Hermione listened to the footsteps recede before pretending to wake up.  They may have been on speaking terms, but there were a lot of things left unsaid between them and letting him know she’d overheard him talking about her was probably not the best place to start.  Not wanting to startle him, she’d planned on making a little noise but when she sat up from her hunched over position an embarrassingly loud groan escaped her.  Ron was up like a shot, quickly untangling his legs from the blankets and moving to the edge of the mattress. He reached towards her shoulder and hesitated, deciding instead to say, ‘You okay?’ in a gruff sort of voice that hadn’t been there moments before.

It was all too much for Hermione to take in at once and she forced her aching neck to nod since she didn’t trust herself to speak.  Ron swallowed loudly and said, ‘It’s really dark in here.  You’re going to have to move closer.’  

Her mind jumped immediately to a scenario she’d thought of a hundred times; one in the common room where she would announce she was chilly and he’d move closer with a smirk and offer to share body heat and- this was definitely not the time or place.  She adjusted the chair until they were knee to knee (or more accurately knee to shin) which was as much as she was willing to touch him for the moment.  Until there was some sort of apology, that was all she’d allow there to be.  She still had principles even if she was half in love with the guy.

‘What time is it?’

‘Just past 2:30, I think.  Pomfrey already came by and that’s usually when she does it.’

‘Right.’  They sat in silence, staring in the general direction of each other and Hermione wasn’t sure whether the darkness makes this easier or harder.  ‘I’m sorry.’  It came out abruptly, impulsively, fervidly. 

Ron nervously laughed.  ‘Er, isn’t that supposed to be my line?’

‘You nearly died, Ron,’ she choked out.  ‘You nearly died believing that I hate you.’

‘You should hate me.  I’ve been an arse to you all year.’  He ran his palms down his thighs and she had to suppress another groan.

‘Not any more than usual.’  She tried to say it light heartedly, to show him she didn’t blame him at all for the pettiness.  Nevertheless, he unexpectedly stiffened and the familiar feeling of floundering returned with a vengeance.  Ron was the one enigma in her life that she could not puzzle out.  Just when she was sure she had a grasp on him, he went and did something that turned her view of him on it’s head.  It was thrilling and terrifying and she was so pathetically far gone.

‘I’ve been awful to you, too.  And without good reason.  You, at least, thought I was insulting you.  I’ve been immature and overreacted to things that were none of my business.’  He began to interrupt her but she continued.  ‘You’re one of the most important people in the world to me.  If you’re happy, then I should be happy.’

‘I’m not happy,’ he murmured, slipping his kneecap to rest between hers.  The insinuation of those words seemed to hang in the air.  

‘Good.’  Thankfully, her voice sounded braver than she felt.  The ball was in her court now and dammit if she was not going to take advantage of it.  Her whole body was vibrating as she slowly nudged his legs apart and slid forward until her inner thigh was pressed against his.  They both froze, limbs interlocked and she couldn’t tell whether the labored breathing she heard was his or her own.  It was silly how affected she was but she could feel the warmth through his thin pyjama bottoms and she was beginning to get lightheaded.

Then his heel was tracing it’s way up her bare calf and the only thing tethering her to reality was the pain in her knuckles from gripping the seat of her chair like her life depended on it.  Ludicrously, it sort of did.  Because if she let go, if she allowed herself to touch him, it was over.  Everything they’d so carefully built up would come crumbling down.  There were far bigger things at stake than their friendship.  But they were only seventeen and she had waited so long and he was saying her name in that low, husky way and she was accidentally whimpering in response.

A loud snore wrenched through the silence.

Hermione tried to stand but with her legs still tangled in Ron’s, she only managed to end up in his lap. 

Harry’s bedsprings creaked and Ron’s arms tightened around her.  She buried her nose further into his hair as he rested his against her neck.  The picture of the two of them from Harry’s vantage point popped into her head.  Their position was beyond compromising.  She was practically straddling Ron, his hand dangerously low on her hip, her skirt bunched up between them.  They’d already been flirting with crossing that unspoken line but a witness to this completely accidental scene would validate it.  They could never go back again if Harry knew.  How would he look at her if he saw them now?  

This was wildly inappropriate, even before she tripped.  It was two thirty in the morning, her feelings were anything but platonic, Ron had a girlfriend, for god’s sake.  The whole room seemed to get hot and she twisted out of his grasp the second she was sure Harry was still asleep.

‘Hermione…?’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

May 3rd, 1998, 2:38 am

It was eerily quiet now that his family had gone home for the night.  Ron had never really slept alone.  He’d grown up in a creaky house with six siblings and a ghoul, roomed with four other boys all through school, and lived in a tent with his two best friends for the past year.

But there he was, in a private room in St. Mungo’s alone.  They’d crashed in the dorms immediately after the battle, but upon awakening, the three of them were summoned to an empty classroom to discuss everything that had happened with Kingsley and McGonagall.  Their reaction to the revelation of the Horcruxes was… less than ideal and after conferring with Bill about potential ramifications, it had been decided that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would need to be kept under surveillance for at least the next 24 hours as longterm exposure was “under researched.” (Ron was pretty sure this was just an excuse to keep Harry which made sense when you considered the whole human soul receptacle/literally died thing.)

Mostly, though, their admittance into hospital was because of safety.  They needed somewhere to recuperate without wayward Death Eaters, prying reporters, or hoards of onlookers.  St. Mungo’s was the best option until the Burrow could be secured.  

There was a horrible sense of relief he felt at not having to go home.  It was awful and selfish because the rest of his family didn’t get to avoid this new reality.  George would never be able to look in a mirror without being reminded of his loss while Ron was locked away from the world with his friends and people to take care of him and the ability to suspend disbelief for one last night.  Harry and Hermione didn’t even have homes or families to go back to.

The last forty eight hours were too much to process.  Lying there, unable to sleep, he tried to catalog all of the major events, hoping that maybe, in doing so, it would start to sink in.  He kept getting stuck on one thing in particular, though.  He told himself it was the loose ends that were making it impossible to move past.  

It was all so stupidly familiar; this routine of dissecting all of his interactions with her late at night, of convincing himself that his reasons for doing so were perfectly rational, noble even, of seeing her the next day and having to pretend that he wasn’t consumed with her, that he didn’t dream of her touching him every night, that he didn’t notice every goddamn thing she ever did.

Unconsciously, Ron found himself staring at her door.  It had been closed since they got there and he’d assumed she’d fallen asleep again but now that the hall lights were dimmed for the night he could make out a faint glow beneath the doorframe.  

By the time that he realized that he had no idea what to even say, he was already halfway into her room.  Hermione glanced up at him quickly before turning back to the pile of papers she had strewn over the bed.  

The whole scene was absurd.  It was two am, they’d just defeated Voldemort, he had snuck into Hermione’s bedroom and instead of being surprised or even mildly interested, she’d continued taking notes.

He watched her working for a good minute before he said, ‘Are you planning on acknowledging me sometime today or…?’

‘Hello, Ron,’ she said, not even bothering to look at him.  He should have known that her way of coping would be throwing herself into something new.  With a sigh and a flick of his wand, the lamp turned on and he sat heavily in the visitor’s chair beside the bed. Hermione pointedly turned off the torch she had been using and faced him, glaring.  ‘Can I help you?’

‘What’s with the muggle lumos?’  Ron knew what a torch was and she knew he knew but sometimes she needed to be riled up to let her guard down.

‘I was making some lists for myself and needed a light,’ she said calmly, not taking the bait.

‘Can’t your wand do that for you?’  Hermione continued her unblinking eye contact.  ‘Where is it?’  She shrugged.  ‘Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.’

‘I didn’t.  It’s in the bottom of my bag somewhere.  I wanted to leave it at Hogwarts but I thought you’d be furious.�� So I compromised.’

Prior to the battle, she’d all but stopped using magic.  He was fairly certain it was due to the wand, but he’d be lying if he said that it hadn’t crossed his mind that one day she would wake up and announce that she was tired of being a witch.  That she would decide to go to University and meet some nice, posh, upstart who could give her the world.  

Unable to think of a way to voice these concerns to her without sounding like a jealous prick, Ron grabbed the nearest sheet of paper.  Written in small, neat print was the word, “Australia” and suddenly the faceless man he’d been picturing was tanned and shirtless.

He cleared his throat and attempted to sound cordial.  ‘I hear it’s nice there this time of year.’

‘Yes, it’s supposed to be very temperate in the winter.’

‘How long do you reckon you’ll be gone for?’

Hermione dropped her head to focus on twisting a thread on her blanket.  ‘I guess that depends on whether I can reverse it or not.  And whether they forgive me if I do.’

’They will.  It may take a few weeks to get over but trust me, you’re incredibly hard to stay angry at.’  She rolled her eyes in that way she reserved just for him but her face flushed just the same.

‘You’re too charming by half,’ she joked.

‘So I’ve heard,’ he said, mock seriously.  As the conversation lulled, Ron asked as casually as possible, ’What about after?’

‘I don’t know.  I never let myself think that far ahead.’  He was well aware of what that euphemism meant having used a few times himself.  The three of them had become so good at tiptoeing around it all year.  The “I’m not expecting to live” quandary.

‘Well, let’s start small.  What’s the first thing you want to do when we get out of here?  It can be anything.’  Hermione stared at him blankly.  ‘I’ll start then.  I want my mum’s roast dinner.  For breakfast.’  She pulled a face.  ‘Your turn.’

‘I definitely don’t want roast dinner for breakfast.  That’s for sure.  Maybe currant scones.’

‘With jam?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’d like to play Quidditch.’  Ron leaned in, elbows on knees, chin in hand to await her reply.

‘Ride a bike.’

’See a concert.’

‘See a movie.’

‘Buy something useless.’

‘Eat sweets,’ she said smugly.

‘You stole that from me!  Fine.  Get Harry drunk.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Get you drunk.’  He waggled his eyebrows as she tried not to laugh.

‘I’d like to see you try.’  Hermione crossed her arms as if challenging him.

This time it was Ron who guffawed.  ‘I seem to recall that you, Ms. Granger, have a certain weakness for wine.’

Now she was really blushing.  ‘It’s an affinity, not a weakness.  Weakness makes it sound like I’m a sot.’

‘Fine.  Then instead of getting you totally pissed, I’ll ply you with both wine and food.  Is that better?’

‘Much.  We’ll get Italian food so you can finally try pizza.’  The smile she gave him at the prospect made him dizzy.

‘Budge up,’ he said, banishing her notes to a stack in the corner before climbing into bed alongside her.  She flopped onto her back, laughing as she pulled him down with her.  They were the wrong way, sprawled across the middle so their legs hung off the end.

Her hand, heavy in his, gave him the confidence to ask, ’What about ten years from now?’

Hermione burst into giggles.  ‘Is this a job interview?’

‘You never know,’ he teased.  

She pretended to seriously contemplate her answer.  ‘Hmm… well, married to Zacharias Smith, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’  

‘And I assume running the Three Broomsticks since I’m Madame Rosmerta’s natural successor.’  Hermione motioned towards her modestly endowed bust.

‘We’ll be neighbors!  Romilda and I have plans to take over Madame Puddifoot’s!’ said Ron, finding that it probably wasn’t the best time to tell her that he was more than acquainted with her tits.  When she didn’t respond, he sat up on his elbows, ready to rib her for not having a comeback but instead he found her deep in thought, her dark eyes straight ahead.

Eventually she said, ‘I’ve always wanted a brick house.’

’Somewhere with ivy.  And hedges.’

‘Yes, and lots of windows.’  He could picture her there.  Curled up in an oversized chair, reading, while he listened to the wireless.

‘Harry’d live nearby.’

Hermione eyed him.  ‘Not too close.’

‘Of course not,’ he scoffed.  ‘Next town over at least.’  She nodded.  Ron felt her fingers find his again.  Emboldened, he added, ‘Maybe a dog.  So Crookshanks can have a friend.’

She moved to mirror his position, propping herself up.  ‘How big is this house?’

‘What do you mean?  A dog doesn’t need that much space.’

‘How many bedrooms?’ she insisted.

‘Depends on the amount of people living there.  It wouldn’t need to be like the Burrow or Grimmauld Place or anything.’  Hermione shook her head.

‘No more than three kids.’

’No more than two,’ he countered, wrinkling his nose.

‘Deal.’  

They both seemed to recognize the implication at the exact same moment.  Her body went rigid beside him.  His first instinct was to deny everything and claim he hadn’t meant it like that.  But what was the point anymore?  Hermione clearly at least somewhat fancied him, the room of requirement had proved that, now they were in her bed together.

‘Sod it.’  And he kissed her.

[harusha]

I just saw your post about PJ and I'm wondering, do you have any book recs?

On mythology specifically or overall? I’m gonna do both since I’m not sure. Also sorry for the relatively late reply, I had to think about this, and I just got back from dinner.

The Count of Monte Cristo- Fantastic page turner, and a genuinely good “revenge” tale. It’s actually one of the first of that kind (or at the very least, one of the most popular ones). It’s also a book that a lot of people cite as the one that changes their mind on classics as “boring.”

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn- Somewhat of a controversial pick (both because of its subject matter and because it’s often “required high school reading,” ie “boring” to a lot of people.)

Huck Finn is an exceedingly complex character, and his friendship with Jim is really good. Pay attention to what Huck Finn does and says; he’s an unreliable narrator due to how he was brought up, his age, and his illiteracy. There’s also a lot of symbolism and other literary devices at play in his character (ex. notice his fixation with death and how it colors how Twain writes him). It’s very much a book I recommend if you want to study the unreliable narrator as a trope, the  Naïf version of it.

As a side note, it’s very poignant because of how Huck learns to condemn his racism. One of the messages you can get from this book is “If this uneducated poor white boy can learn to overcome his prejudices, so too can someone who has been educated, has money, etc.” It is a brutal condemnation of racism (though you do have to consider the time period, the “lens” of which you have to view through.)

Lolita- Another controversial pick, and one I’ll upright say as a lot of trigger warnings attached (google the summary, and you’ll see what I mean).

Beautiful prose (some of my favorite in literature actually) and a monster of a protagonist. When you read this, remember how Humbert Humbert is framing it. He is telling his tale to a court; he is unreliable and will frame events to make himself appear sympathetic. One notable factor of the author’s skill is how often Humbert gains the readers’ sympathy despite the atrocious subject matter. I personally felt viscerally uncomfortable reading his thoughts, and this is one of the few books that has ever made me feel that way. I didn’t fall into the sympathy trap, but look at any discussion of the book, and you’ll see what I mean.

I also recommend this author’s (Vladimir Nabokov) other works.

Franz Kafka’s literary works- Kafka is one of my favorite authors because he really showcases the isolation (both due to WWI, technological advancement, and the “beginnings” of modern capitalism) of the beginning of the 1900s, and he’s one of modernism’s premier authors. His works often deal with the themes of isolation, judgement, and outcasts. 

In particular, I’m fond of “The Metamorphosis” (cliche pick I know) and “In the Penal Colony.” The former is a short story so quick read if you just wanna try his writing style + it’s very influential (See Part 1 of Tokyo Ghoul for one example).

Also know that Kafka had a very strained relationship with his father and a conflicted relationship with his religion. I recommend reading “Letter to his Father” first to get an understanding of Kafka’s psyche to truly get pass the “nonsensical” nature of his works. It, like the title says, is a letter he wrote to his father, but his mother never delivered it.

If you want even more info on Kafka to understand his works, I recommend Kafka: Judaism, Politics, and Literature which covers a lot more (and in more succinct words) than I can on his works and life. As a fun fact, Vladimir Nabokov also placed him as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. On Kafka himself, he thought he was a failure of a human being and writer, and now look at him. He’s up there in the Western Canon with Shakespeare.

Paradise Lost + Paradise Regained- If you’re interested in Lucifer (or Samael if you subscribe to that theory), this is a must-read. Beautiful, haunting, and with a very charismatic figure in Lucifer. Alongside the obvious Divine Comedy, this work has influenced the portrayal of Lucifer and Hell quite a bit imo. Namely, the “sympathetic” portrayal you find in works such as Supernatural. It’s also an epic poem so it’s best listened to imo rather than read.

No Longer Human- Osamu Dazai’s work if you’re into that one show. An incredibly depressing book that’s often thought to be semi-autobiographical. It’s a haunting book that I don’t recommend for prose, but for the mood it evokes. I don’t recommend this unless you’re in a decent state of mind.

The Catcher in the Rye- Mildly controversial pick in that you either hate Holden or love him. It’s a book where you have to be in the “right” state of mind to appreciate Holden. For example, the period of moving away from home for college  This work deals with societal isolation and human loneliness and features an unreliable narrator.

It’s just a very particular feeling you have to be experiencing to appreciate Holden. I think anyway.

The Epic of Gilgamesh- Not super fancy or a reinterpretation of whatever. Just the oldest known written work of mankind. I like it a lot, but I like Sumerian myth so YMMV. It’s still missing a few tablets last I checked, but still a good read.

Also the related Enuma Elish, you get the creation myth.

Vampire Chronicles- I recommend the first three or four so books honestly. Afterwards, Anne Rice just goes off the rails. Prose is pretty, and Lestat is a terrible person but fascinating to read about. I am partial to Armand though tbh.

Dracula- I think this is another page-turner. I certainly enjoyed it. I don’t think it’s as scary as it would be in its’ published time period, but it is a classic Gothic horror. The unabridged version may look intimidating, but like Monte Cristo, you’ll sweep through it rather quickly.

“A Rose for Emily”- One of William Faulkner’s short stories. I think it’s a lovely piece and showcases the Southern Gothic (crumbling house, decaying and failing tradition and the southern nobility, etc.) There’s a theme of decay and time passing throughout this work.

As a side note, I actually enjoy Faulkner a lot, but he’s a difficult author imo. It’s not as apparent in this work, but more so in Intruder in the Dust (the first racial thriller) and especially The Sound and The Fury.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof- A play that deals with repressed homosexuality (maybe, it depends on how you interpret Brick’s dialogue and actions), loss, and denial. I quite like it a lot, and Tennessee Williams actually was gay (was because he’s dead and all). I read it, but tbh I feel like it would be better watched if you can find a performance on Youtube.

The Picture of Dorian Gray- Oscar Wilde’s most well known work imo. I enjoy the prose and the themes of corruption and indulgence present throughout the novel. There’s also a lot of allusions to Faust in it if you’re interested in that.

Peter Darling-a more modern choice but it features a trans and gay protagonist. Part of what I enjoy is how it’s not browbeaten into you that the protagonist is trans. It’s interwoven into the character where it’s an important part of him, but to where it doesn’t overwhelm his entire character. However, this is a novel where I feel the beginning and ending are great, but the middle is so-so. It’s a retelling of Peter Pan.

The Tain- Focuses on Cu Cuchulain and his cycle.

Poetic Edda- A must read if you’re interested in exploring Norse myths outside of Marvel. It’s basically a collection of tales.

Arabian Nights- Scheherazade is one of my favorite female figures from literature. She’s daring, clever, and particularly resourceful. It’s a frame narrative sort of tale so you technically won’t be seeing her as much since she’s telling each story, but it’s a lovely piece and perfect for a bedtime read because of its collection of tales. A lot of them have been referenced in media and related as well.

The Book Thief- Classic YA novel rec. It’s set in WWII and one of the novels that really showcases what YA could be. Basically a classic gem in the rough pile.

John Keats- He’s a poet, but I love his poetry because of how haunting and dark it can get; he often deals with themes of mortality.. Ode to Nightingale is particularly good.

China’s Four Great Classical Novels (Journey to the West, Dreams of the Red Chamber, Water Margin, Romance of the Three Kingdoms)- I decided to clump them here since this is already super long. Each one is incredibly well-known in Asia (and obviously China), and you can find allusions everywhere to these four novels. Each novel is rather long and expensive though (I paid like 40 USD for each set). Journey to the West follows Sun Wukong, unarguably one of the most well-known figures in literature (at least in the East; he’s super influential, but somewhat less so in the West; keyword somewhat). Dreams of the Red Chamber has some very pretty poems, but it’s often thought to be the semi autobiographical work of the author (it deals with the rise and fall of his family and the dynasty).

Daiyu’s flower poem is one of the most memorable for example.

The blossoms fade, the blossoms fly,  the blossoms fill the sky. Their crimson fades, their scent dies out,  and who is there to pity?  Drifting threads gently twist together  and float past the springtime lodge;  Falling willow floss lightly sticks  and strikes the lady’s window drapes.

Water Margin is a bit “bawdier” than the other ones imo, but it’s a good tale and has many notable figures and scenes. On Three Kingdoms, it’s the one I’d recommend to start with if you’re interested in military intrigue and battles.

I also have a Goodreads where I organize everything by shelf if you prefer to look at that. I do need to update it though tbh.

https://www.goodreads.com/Mahariel

[momestuck]

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim volume 2!

So each volume of this VN is semi-self-contained, it seems. There’s not a continuous route through every chapter, or at least if there is, there’s no like persistent state beyond unlocking a little icon for befriending each troll.

The last couple of chapters seem to be bugged, since I have the achievements unlocked already, even though this is my first time playing the game.

Anyway last time our options were to get mind controlled by a twitch streamer, or steal loads of hot dogs with a homeless kid... or accidentally straight up fucking murder him, that can happen too. What are we up against next?

Beginning volume 2, it does in fact seem to be set chronologically after volume 1. Presumably Diemen won’t feature, since he may not have actually survived the first chapter!

So this time we have an indigo blood troll (same as Equius) - and a yellow blood (same as Sollux). So in each case, we’re basically one rung up the hemospectrum from the last game. Let’s go from left to right again.

Amisia

According to the credits, Amisia is written by Aysha U. Farah.

Amisia’s typing quirk seems to be that she doubles up the letter ‘u’. She finds us cute. Or rather, cuute.

She lives in a classy part of town.

Our first choice is whether or not we’re an artist. Going off pattern, saying we’ve never had a knack for art is the rejection option.

...turns out not. Apparently friendships with artists can be ‘frauught’. She’s very happy to have us along, and the narrator seems to be very happy to find someone not a ‘maniac’.

The narration calls attention to the paint on her smock. Which ‘doesn’t really look like paint’. 

Oh.

Ooooooooooh.

Yeah so remember the Grand Highblood who liked to paint his judgement chamber in the blood of various trolls? Yeah I’m pretty sure I can see where this one is going.

She puts our arm in a ‘medicalizer’ which heals our injury. The narration mentions we have a sling so... does that mean the branch where we killed Diemen is canon? Probably shouldn’t assume so. Maybe we got a sling in another branch. Then again... those other branches seem kind of final, so maybe this does follow killing Diemen, and ending up friendless.

We get the choice to be chill or dance around the room. Always dance, I say. Not surprisingly, we end up falling on our ass.

We fall on our ass a lot in this game. But the result is that we get a cut and that makes - shocker - Amisia really excited about our bright red human blood.

Lucky she never met Karkat, I suppose.

She takes the opportunity to be Space Racist.

Then she pulls out a huge axe. I guess if Equius’s thing was a huge bow, her thing might be a huge axe.

Whereas if we don’t flop around, we will surely remain unhurt. So I think we’re on track to become a kind of artistic blood donor.

The narrator finally gets a bit of a clue. But noo, she just wants to show us the axe... and somehow it slashes our wrists.

Sure is Hussie writing.

We get a reveal... she’s not a real painter. She’s ‘really good at the other parts’...

But now she’s inspired, and unlike her other contributors, she’s not gonna just murder us.

So instead we get kept on as a permanent muuse.

We really know how to pick ‘em in this game huh!

So now we have a couple of branch points to try. First, let’s say we’re an artist ourselves...

Amisia is not impressed.

The second branch we can try is to be chill about it when she heals our broken arm.

Ardata gets a mention. Technically this isn’t inconsistent with the route where Diemen dies, but I think it’s more likely this is a kind of ‘floating canon’ where you’ve implicitly tried all the routes, even if it doesn’t make strict logical sense. But if we want to construct a consistent timeline... either an Ardata route happens after Diemen dies, or we injure Ardata’s lusus and then do one of the Diemen routes.

In this route, you tell her you have red blood, and she assures you she has plenty of burgundy. How convenient.

This sounds healthy!

So some troll cops show up with a troll for Amisia to exsanguinate. (Oh it’s good when I get to use a word like “exsanguinate”!)

She tries to get us to do the axe murdering honours, but our ribs give out. We learn that, like Equius, she is STRONG. I recall that wasn’t supposed to be a general indigo-blood trait, but whatevs. So she gets us to hold the troll while she kills them instead.

It goes poorly.

Amisia briefly mentions another troll named Chahut as she kicks us out for messing up her hive.. I presume we’ll meet them later. We get another ending:

Honestly, this seems like a better ending for us. We’re alive, our arm’s repaired and we haven’t lost loads of blood, and we’re not trapped in a ‘friendship’ with Amisia.

Speaking of which... the narration hinted at some kind of supernatural cause behind our obsessive need for friendship, I think. That’s probably worth noting.

So now...

Cirava

I can’t find who wrote Cirava in the credits. Maybe I’m just not being observant!

I kinda like Cirava’s music actually. Feels cyberpunky.

Cirava’s typing quirk seems to be using the word ‘lmao’ a lot, and similar abbreviations. I’m kind of imagining that as saying ‘ell em ay o’ out loud.

We reveal that we’re an alien. Cirava seems chill.

Ohhhhhhh my god this is the vaporwave troll??? And there’s like... a troll bong there?

Also who’s that on the screen? Is that Ardata’s torture stream? ...no, those horns are different.

Cirava, it turns out, is also a streamer, whose viewers are into aliens.

So far... this seems kinda... not horrific? When’s the other shoe gonna drop lol

That’s a little real!

So, in Alternia, instead of vaporwave we have ‘moisturewave’. Which, I’m gonna say, we’re hella into.

Incidentally, the narration seems to be using ‘they’ pronouns for Cirava, so that’s neat.

So I guess we’re making fun of those music youtube channels too? Also trolls have anime, apparently.

The effects of chasing online fame are like, our Theme here I guess. Cirava mentions an ‘incident’ that made them less trusting...

A little on the nose huh.

Cirava, apparently, won’t be our friend unless we get a better aesthetic and a ‘chittr’ account. I’m pretty sure Homestuck already had a Twitter parody, but that was in the whole dream bubbles thing so I guess it wouldn’t extend to Alternia.

Our second choice is whether to let Cirava do our look, or do it ourself. Let’s try doing it ourselves.

Next stop, Harajuku. Cirava, luckily, is into it.

The narration seems to be pretty clear that the generic MSPA reader figure is a guy, alas.

Soon we’re being hit on by strangers. Next up, we’re vaping out of a bug’s ass.

So we get high on alien vape juice hell yeah. Time for THE INCIDENT.

Like a lot of trans girls (come on, vaporwave musician here? blatantly trans), Cirava got in a bunch of twitter chittr fights and started getting fake reported. Only on Alternia getting reported as a psionic means getting enslaved, not just banned off Twitter. This social media fight resulted in Cirava’s friends abandoning them to avoid being targeted (...yeah, that’s real), until Cirava removed their own eye to avoid being used as a psionic battery.

And now... they stay quiet, try not to get in fights, or get close to people.

Help I care about a fucking vaporwave troll now

So yeah that’s like... well of all the endings it’s the least awful one? god ><

Anyway what’s the other route? First, if we say we’re not into moisturewave... predictably, they say this isn’t going to work and kick us out.

Second, we get Cirava to dress us up.

hell yeah

Unfortunately Cirava gets kind of Chidi about the whole ‘making decisions’ thing. Eventually they dress us up...

Exactly like them.

Unfortunately this proves a bit too popular and Cirava freaks out that we’re going to steal their fame.

And as a result of stealing their look and popularity...

As a result, you straight up... kill yourself? With a gun that you find under a stump, because of MSPA memes?

Honestly?

Those wacky kids and their callout posts, am I right? This isn’t exactly a hot allostatic load level critique of disposability and social media mobbing here.

eh. whatever. this definitely feels like an outsider critique... but it feels more personal when I’m vaguely adjacent to the subculture getting mocked lol. (not that i smoke weed and work on vaporwave and make callout posts - but like Cirava’s whole thing is like ‘trans memer’ stereotype, you know?)

Anyway, that’s the outcomes available to us. Chill and smoke space weed with Cirava, be a living blood bank for Amisia, fail to murder someone, or die.

Fun times in Alternia!

I’m not sure if all of these episodes are gonna be like... ‘meet troll, hijinks, backstory dump, suffer’ or if there’s going to be more of a plot later on.

[nowimthevillain]

Super long and fucked up dream but honestly it played out like an awesome movie (in my head)

For some reason I was having a retirement party? I’m not that old? But still this badass black chief of police guy came to my party we must have been friends or colleagues or something and he wished me a good party and a good thereafter... anyway...

So I was at like a school a couple of my work friends and for some reason Sam and dean from supernatural attended with me and we were just going to classes and stuff normal school til one day I heard rumours that people were disappearing without a trace but no one seemed bothered about it.

One day I heard a struggle in a broom closet and I went in to find someone in a human sized bag filled with transparent red liquid on a gourney he looked like he was drowning in the liquid so my instinct was too try and get him out but someone came and pushed me aside and shouted he’s fine and wheeled him away when I stood back up and looked for the person he was gone

I was in a class later that day and dean came to me and told me he couldn’t find Sam and that he thinks he had been kidnapped and I told him about the bag of red liquid, dean decided that he would get himself caught so he could find out what was going on from the inside, I told him he was insane and the last guy I saw looked like he was drowning and he told me he had to for Sam so we snooped around and found one of these bags, dean fell asleep first and then we activated the bag and it filled with the liquid, it didn’t look like he was drowning though which put me at ease somewhat.

The guy that came to pick up the first bag arrived me and another friend stopped him we asked him where they were going and why and who was doing all this he said he couldn’t say and he looked scared we sat and talked to him about other things to try and make friends with him but eventually he got up and took the bag with dean and another one away we tried to follow him but he ran

We ran down the corridors trying to follow, again no one else seemed to care or even notice we got to a stairwell that me and my one friend stopped in time but another (not noticing there was no railings) fell off the edge and fell down a floor or two and screamed in pain, we ran down the stairs to go help her I asked if she was ok and she said she was fine but her ankle was fucked up so I carried her to a nearby bench in what would have been a school playground type place we were sitting talking about what can we do people are being snatched and no one knows why or cares there were 3 celebritiy singers sat behind us on another bench for some reason (yeah this bit was weird) and they were just providing backing vocals for our conversation we we started singing with them a little bit for fun...

Anyway back to the story... I left my friend resting on the bench she said she would catch up when her ankle felt better I know I needed to find the guy that kidnaps the people! I searched for ages until I find him and talk to him a little I ask him don’t you think this is wrong why are you doing this and he ran from me again, I caught him and I said please I’m scared for these people even if you think this is just 10% wrong please I beg you you have to tell me what’s going on, the fear drained from his eyes and he looked determined, keeping eye contact with me he pulled the fire alarm and took me to the science department.

By this point I knew I needed information and the science department it were it would be, as I walked through the halls and classrooms students were getting leery throwing papers flipping desks one even smashed a fish tank, I walked into a specific class room, must have been where the guy left the kidnapped people some students had set a few small fires and trashed the room I walked through and felt like a complete bad bitch, somehow me walking with intent had drawn a crowd ready to help me deal with whatever was going on, I found some information in the back room of the classroom about a secret facility right here in the school I collected some heavy things like wrenches and other tools in a bag incase it got ugly and so we marched up to the front door

It was pure white to look at from the outside with a glass panel to see the inside of the lab but really all you could see was some machinery and blue and red lights, the sliding door was locked and next to several panels, there was an option for new recruits I had to press a button to get a pill that had instructions on how to insert a tracker under my skin I some how managed to avoid doing that but there was more to it there was another capsule that had a code in that I had to input on a screen but the screen was really slow and the numbers kept fucking up when I put them in, luckily it eventually accepted it I had to give my finger prints to the screen too and put in yet another code and answer some questions, a memeber of my crowd decided to give me a bro so we could play the “we are cleaners” role a notion that slightly confused and amused me, I however decided I would be scholarly and ask questions as to what was going on before getting down to business, when the door finally opened I had to step through into a disinfectant chamber but I held the door which allowed the rest of my group to enter behind me and brute force through the other door, they all split off in different directions as to let me do my thing, the scientist on the way in looked taken aback to see so many people but not concerned she put out her hand to take my bag stating they don’t allow them inside but I just continued to walk with intent and ignored her...

This is where is starts to get fucked up and gory so if you don’t like that stuff maybe stop reading

As I furthered Into the room I saw vats of a translucent brown/green liquid that had red dancing on the top in most cases there was surgical equipment and medical machines surrounding them, I walked to the first one and to my horror I saw what appeared to be some type of wild boars inside only they looked very much in pain, bits of flesh skin and muscle exposed tusks removed, I asked the scientist near by might you tell me what’s going on here? She told me that they were improving that animal, that this species was endangered and they were changing it to make it better but also to remove the poison glands it had, apparently this species of boar was capable of spitting acid and in knowing humans, the wretched things looked barely conscious there was one sitting on the floor that looked more ill than had ever seen any creature in my life, it squealed and lurched for me as I walked by, it scared me a fair bit but I moved on to the next tank.

A giraffe! A whole giraffe in a tank again it looked tranquilised and still in a lot of pain, flesh on its long neck exposed and weeping it almost made me cry how anyone could do such a thing to such a creature, I asked the scientist next to this tank what was going on but I was too numb to hear what she had said... that is until I notice what’s next, body parts

Human body parts in a giant iced cooling rack organs still pumping and convulsing but other things eyes, hands, feet even penis’

A short Indian woman approached me she appeared to be the head of the facility, “it’s quite an amazing collection wouldn’t you say” I told her it’s absolutely sick and vile she claimed there was no price to high for science, I look to the other side of the room and see people suspended in red liquid not unlike in the matrix, there are also dozens more tanks and pieces of human anatomy on show I see some human heads the the head scientist claims are models but I’m not so sure, I take a look at the other scientists in the room the vast majority are students at the school, I address the head scientist first followed by everyone else in the room, “how could you do this aren’t you disgusted by what you’ve done?” No one seemed particularly phased but I asked these people are your family and friends someone piped up to tell me the people they were experimenting on were nobodies, they didn’t know what the head scientist had orchestrated my group threw back a curtain and revealed the people they had stolen from the school some where shocked that they were in fact friends and family, as I was looking around to see the shocked and not so shocked faces I saw a large machine, it was throwing animals into it alive I asked what it was and o was told it was a harvester, the other side of the machine on a conveyer hearts, lungs, livers etc were being produced from the machine, I asked so you experement on animals then harvest them? I was told no the harvested animals are fresh and untampered with they then use the organs on the experimented animals to keep them alive, I was furious they were killing other animals to keep theirs experiments alive and in pain, I told the head she had to pay

She whipped out an extending stick and launched herself at Me I moved out the way and quickly collected a wrench from my bag, I kicked the bag over to my brother that had joined my group earlier so he could retreave a weapon, the other people in my group started to revolt and smash the lab up and some of the scientists fought back! The other scientists huddled around the edges of the room. Me and the head scientist got a few hits in on each other before I finally got her to the ground I used the wrench to hold her to the floor by her neck threatening to choke her to death if she tried anything I asked her questions how and why etc (I can’t actually remember what she said but I think it basically boiled down to money) and science is the greater good and there has to be sacrifices to advance, she somehow got free from me and was about to attack me again when the lights for the whole place went out and someone burst through the door and screamed get down in the ground! The silhouetted person was carrying a huge machete type blade, everyone hit the floor including me and the head scientist, though I heard my brother climb into a clean tank of water behind us, the head scientist was right infront of me, the silhouette shouted if anyone moves there are going to die, it shortly walked past me and I saw my chance, I kicked the head scientist Into the path of the silhouette and he struck her across the top of the head, the silhouetted man when to flip the switch on the breaker and turn the lights back on, when they came back on the head scientist was gone and the silhouetted man revealed to be the police chief guy from the bringing of the story he gave me his hand and pulled me up from the floor and asked it I was ok and told me they never would have found the place without my help

Some people were being arrested and some comforted, a lot of the scientists resented me because they were now out of a job but I just kept thinking how could the resent me for stopping this when they have been comiting such heinous deeds, the police chief called me over to the clean tank as my brother popped up and said is this an experiment should I put him out fo his misery and he aimed a gun and him and I said nooo wait that’s my brother the chief said fine and he got out shortly after another figure rose from the water! It was the head scientist bleeding profusely from the head wound, the chief said what about this one to which I said yeah out that one out of its misery to which she had half a second to say “no wait I-“ before the officer shot his gun, it was a regular hand gun but the bullet seem to transform into a large harpoon in the air and absolutely decimated the head scientists head which smashed into hundreds of pieces, I smirked and some bad ass music started playing and credits rolled like the end of a movie

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Defo one of the more strange and in-depth dreams I’ve had, no idea where that came from but it was both weird scary and awesome, I just wish I could have painted a better picture of the visuals of the dream if I was an artist I would storyboard the shit out of this lmao but yeah it was interesting and if you read this and think I’m a freak it’s because I am one