#get that through your skull molly

[mollyrolls]

someone needs to do a psychological study on me bc anytime i SEE the name akaashi i swear to god my heart starts racing. god forbid he’s put in a Scenario

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧

James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader!

Summary: In which you go back home only to find something dreadful waiting for you there already

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, torture, also blood but nothing extreme, crying, death(s), knives, I think that's it?

Previous Part Series Masterlist Next Part

───※ ·❆· ※───

Over the next week and a half or so, James was there as you recovered. To the surprise of Lily and Molly, you were doing better than they expected, you were healing fast. Of course, only you knew how many times you had been tortured that landed you on the brink of death, and made it back, all in that hellhole you used to call home.

James was constantly asking if you were alright, if you needed something, and even though you had told him not to, James Potter was full of guilt.

Not only had he misjudged you and been rude to you for years, he was the reason you could have lost your life. He had to make it up to you, somehow. And he was glad you two decided to turn back the pages and write a new story, as he found your company very pleasant.

Sirius was completely blown away at the behavior of his best mate. Sure, you had saved James' life, but that didn't mean James had to follow you around like a lost puppy. Sirius had nearly stopped his cold behavior towards you but didn't try to warm up either. Remus merely quietly chuckled to himself at the sight of James and you. It was quite amusing to him, how James had hated your guts but was now wanting to spend quality time with you.

Going into the second week after the incident, you realized you were well enough and had to head home. James however declared he would escort you home, and would not take no for an answer.

"Potter, I'll be fine." You gritted through your teeth. James' constant stubbornness did manage to get on your nerves from time to time.

"No. I am going and that's final." He said, being stubborn as ever.

"Prongs, let L/n go if she says so." Sirius spoke in between, not happy about the newfound connection between the two of you.

James glared at him and gripped your forearm with a tight grip so you couldn't remove his hand, but not tight enough to hurt you.

You sighed in exasperation. "Fine." You said, giving in. You waved goodbye to Remus and Sirius, the latter not giving any response while Remus wished you farewell.

You and James walked out of headquarters before you closed your eyes, imagining your little cottage and the two of you apparated. You felt a wave of nausea hit you as your feet hit the ground and you bent over.

"Are you ok?" James asked with worry, trying to peer at your face.

You waved a hand, "Yeah, I'm fine." You answered, straightening up. However your mouth went dry and fear filled your whole being at the sight before you.

The door to your cottage was wide open, darkness pooling out. Above the building you called home, a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue, etched against the black sky like a constellation.

The Dark Mark

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" You whimpered, running towards your cottage with James on your tail. You rushed in, halting near your kitchen when you saw a dark red liquid staining the walls. Your breaths began to come out short and quickly, you felt your legs weaken as you leaned against the wall for support.

"This can't be happening." You breathed out, afraid of what you would see if you walked a few more steps in. James came from behind and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, surveying the situation.

"Y/n," He spoke softly, "We should go. I'll let the Order know and they can come and-"

"No." You shook your head as you freed yourself from the young Potter's grip, walking further in.

“Y/n.” James tried but you paid him no heed.

In the middle of the room sat such a heart wrenching sight that crushed your heart and soul entirely.

Your beloved House-Elf, the one companion you had since childhood, the one who healed your wounds, the one who had always made sure you ate and slept properly. The same House-Elf who had stayed by your side no matter how many times you had freed him, the one true friend you had for the longest time.

Dead.

And what broke your heart even more was that he had sacrificed his life, as his body lay lifeless in front of a small bundle of fur, also drowning in a pool of blood. The same puppy you had rescued from the streets only two months prior.

Both of them,

Dead.

You sank to your knees, sobbing your heart out.

"I'm so sorry." You managed to say out in between the heavy sobs escaping your mouth. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you two."

James stood rooted to his spot, reeling in with shock.

You shakily raised your hands out, grabbing the handles of the very metal that was pierced into your friends bodies and pulled them out. You tossed the knives to the side in anger, letting out a scream. At that, James finally snapped out of it and kneeled down beside you, bringing you into his chest.

"I'm so sorry." He said, rubbing your back as you cried.

You two stayed in that position for the next few moments. However a new sound caught both your attention.

Crack!

You pulled away from James' chest, wiping your face as you both exchanged a look.

Someone had just apparated onto the premises.

You both immediately jumped to your feet, wands raised in front of you.

You heard very tiny sounds of the pitter patter of feet and James moved forward, putting himself in front of you. You watched with bated breath over James' shoulder and when the newly arrived came into view, you shrieked, happiness and relief overwhelming you as you pushed past James. You fell onto your knees as you hugged your best friend.

"Willy! You're alive!" You spoke, feeling like your heart would burst.

A bark sounded and a very small bundle of white fur pounced onto you, excitedly licking your face. You picked him up, peppering his face with kisses.

"Hello to you too, my sunshine." You spoke as you hugged your dog, Fluffy, to your chest and pulled in Willy for a hug with your other arm. You were so overwhelmed with joy that tears began to cascade down your face again.

"Mistress, please do not cry. Willy did not mean to make Mistress cry."

You let out a watery laugh.

"How many times have I told you to call me Y/n, Willy?"

The House-Elf's cheeks colored pink. "Sorry, Mistress."

You wiped your tears away and then frowned, turning back to look at the scene in the kitchen.

"But if you're alive then, what's that?" You asked Willy, pointing over your shoulder.

"Those are fake, Mistress." Willy squeaked out. "About two weeks ago, I heard someone apparate and the wards shifted. Willy thought it must be you, Mistress, but it was not. You had told us to run if anyone evil came here, and we did but Willy had a good idea and with magic, Willy made the impostors so the evil people think it is us but Fluffy and Willy were gone and safe."

You let out a happy cry.

"You are an absolute genius, Willy, always have been! But how did you know we were here?"

Willy's ears bounced as he replied, "Willy had put up a new ward that allowed Willy to sense a new arrival if someone passed that ward."

You shook your head, smiling brighter than James had ever seen as you turned around, almost forgetting he was there.

"We need to go back. I need to stay at Headquarters until I can find a new place to shift us all."

James nodded but spoke without realizing, "Of course, but you could come to my place, it's fairly empty."

He mentally slapped himself. You two were at loggerheads two weeks ago and now here he was offering you to stay at his flat.

You smiled, "Thank you for the offer, but it wouldn't be nice of us to intrude, plus," You looked down at the excited puppy in your arms, "Headquarters may be more ideal for Fluffy in terms of space."

James nodded, not trusting himself to speak for if he did, something stupid would escape his mouth again.

James and you went through your cottage, collecting anything of importance and essentials, before apparating back to Headquarters, leaving the cottage in the state it was in case someone came back.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you're all well! This chapter was okay I feel but I'm more excited for the next few chapters, you'll see why when they're out! Take care! <33

Wizard Buddies (Taglist): @quack-quack-snacks @jamespottergf @themarauderswife7 @amethyistheart

[amyelevenn]

I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

PAIRING ; Max Verstappen x reader

SUMMARY ; after losing your wallet during a bar crawl, you and Max go on a drunken adventure to find what has been lost.

WARNINGS ; drinking, drunk!reader

A/N ; not really sure how i feel about this... is it proof read? no. do I care? also no!

also 20 second penalty? fair but oh my god my poor heart can’t handle this!! 💔💔

2.8k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

This wasn’t how your night was supposed to go.

Your plan was to drink away the stress that had being weighing down your shoulders the past couple weeks. A bar crawl wasn’t exactly your scene, but any excuse to get as hammered as possible with good friends was an excuse that you were more than willing to take.

It was a nice, albeit temporary, escape from reality. Your life had recently turned into a never-ending cycle of work, rent hikes that could rival a blockbuster plot twist, and family drama that would make a soap opera seem mundane. You had a list of worries so long that it could wrap around the block.

Somewhere around bar number eight, you��d promised the table the next round was on you. Reaching for your wallet, you felt only the smooth emptiness of your jean pocket. Sheer panic set in almost immediately, coursing through your veins despite being almost completely plastered.

Stumbling back to your table, you barely make it before tripping over your own feet.

“Molly, I can’t find my wallet!” you exclaim, your voice slightly slurred as you rummage through your bag again.

Molly, your closest friend, leaned in, concern etched on her face. “Are you sure you had it when we got here?”

“Of course I did! I had it when I bought those nachos!” You gesture wildly, nearly spilling your drink. “They were amazing, by the way.”

“Focus, love,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “Let’s retrace your steps. Did you check your pockets?”

You pat down your jacket, frowning. “Nope. Just my phone and... gum.”

You hadn’t even realised you were crying until Molly had bunched her sleeve up in her fist to gently wipe the tears off of your cheeks. You manage to whisper a ‘thank you’ through your soft sobs, wishing for nothing more than every piece of your stress to just leave you alone.

This was supposed to be a night away from it all. A night of drinks, laughter and warmth. A night with no anxieties, only carefree joy. This is exactly the opposite of what you needed right now.

Someone handed you a glass of water which you gratefully accepted, skulling it all in one go. You let out a heavy sigh, instantly aware of the uncomfortable heat creeping in as the fog begins to clear and you start to sober up. It makes you even more nervous having everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for your next move.

“I… gotta look for it, right?” you asked, more to Molly than yourself.

“Yeah. But you can’t go alone. You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll come with you.” Her tone was certain, but her expression betrayed disappointment at the night’s early conclusion.

Guilt gnaws at your chest. “No no no s’my fault, I don’t wanna ruin your night Mol Mol!” you slur as you grab her hand, giving it a squeeze as a form of promise. “I can take care of m’self, promise.”

“Mmm, no, honey, you can’t go alone,” she said, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll come. It’s okay—”

“I could go with her.” A voice cut through your little bubble. You turned to see Max, the one who had suggested it. “I’ve only had one drink, and that was over an hour ago.”

You didn’t know Max very well; you had been introduced to him once at one of Molly’s parties and had a couple conversations since, but that was all. It wasn’t odd to be at the same events, but you just happened to never find yourself around the same people as him. You turn to Molly for her approval – he was one of her friends after all, and you were putting all of your trust into her.

She hesitated. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, Max. I’m happy to go.”

He smiles, nodding. “It’s all good, Molly, I was planning on heading out soon anyway. I promise I’ll take good care of her,” he laughs, brightening the mood a little. It’s the first time you notice just how contagious his smile is.

You gathered your things, bidding your friends a hasty goodbye and pulling Molly into a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, my love,” you say, giving her a teary wink. She laughs, giving one final squeeze before letting you go. “I promise to make it up to you another night, and I won’t ruin that one!!”

“You could never ruin my night baby girl!” she giggles, laying her head on your shoulder. “Please message me if you find your wallet and when you get home, okay?” You nod, vowing to do so as long as she does in return.

Blowing her a kiss, you and Max make your way over to the bartender, who looks bored out of his mind. “Hey, what can I get ya?” he asks, moving to start mixing up some concoctions.

“Nothing for me, but a water for her. Thank you,” The bartender, Ollie, as you read his name tag, hums as disappears to get a clean glass and some water for you. After a few minutes, he comes back and hands you the cup, and you give him an appreciative smile in return. “Have you guys had any lost wallets handed in tonight?” Max asks whilst you guys still had his attention. He shakes his head, and you both thank him anyway. Your glass gets left on the counter, and you make your way out.

The early spring breeze hit you like a splash of cold water. “It’s freezing! Let’s find the next bar quickly,” Max joked, noticing your goosebumps. “Do you want to walk or catch a cab?”

Taking a deep breath, you consider your options. “Um...I dunno?”

“I think walking will be our best option for now,” he suggests, gesturing you to follow his lead. You fall in step with him, but the drinks you had earlier inhibit you from walking in a straight line. Every now and then you accidentally bump his shoulder, murmuring a quick ‘sorry’ and moving to the other side of the sidewalk for good measure. He laughs it off every time which makes you feel a little bit better.

Before you can even form a coherent enough thought to start a conversation, he is holding the door of the next bar open for you. You thank him, stepping inside and immediately soaking up the warmth radiating off the strangers inside.

Max leads you over to the counter, asking all the questions for you. He gets another water and some fries for you to eat whilst you walk. He isn’t stupid – he knows you won’t be able to stomach much, but you need to eat to help sober you up. It’s fair to say that this isn’t his first time sobering a friend up.

The waitress comes back from lost and found empty handed, but the hot chips help you ignore the sense of impending doom that is weighing on your shoulders.

“Do you want to stay here and eat for a bit, or keep going?” Max asks, guiding you towards the exit but not outside just yet.

“We can keep going,” you say, holding the door open for him this time. As he searches for the next bar’s location, strangers push you into his space, and the heat radiating from him nearly overwhelms you, stirring an intense longing to cling to that warmth. If you were as intoxicated as you had been just half an hour ago, you would have done it without a second thought.

He steps forward, seemingly oblivious to your flushed cheeks—though perhaps he noticed and chose to overlook it, wanting to spare you the embarrassment.

You move onto walking to the next bar, the chill of the night clawing under your skin and into your veins.

“Do you like to drink?” is the only question your drunk mind can come up with as a distraction from the frozen breeze.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” he answers, almost perplexed at how random the question was. “I would ask if you do too, but i feel like i don’t need to.”

“Nuh uh this isn’t ‘bout me,” you giggle, wanting to make it obvious you are interviewing him here. “What do you like ‘bout drinking?”

He laughs a little, amused at your state. “Well, I guess I like being with my friends and having a good time with them-”

“-oooh what else??”

“Uh, I like when-”

“-Look at those lights!” You giggle, swaying slightly as you point at a nearby neon sign. “It’s like a carnival exploded!”

Max chuckles, steadying you with a gentle grip on your arm. “Yeah, it’s very... festive. Just keep walking, okay?”

“Festive! Just like me!” You lean into him, your words slightly slurred, a wide smile spreading across your face. “You’re my designated fun friend!”

“Designated fun friend?” he echoes, smirking with a laugh. “You’ve had a burst of energy, huh?”

“I’m just trying my best not to cry!”

“Well, we are at the next bar, so hold onto those tears for another couple minutes!, yeah?”

But you are met with nothing by disappointment as the bartender shakes their head, confirming they’ve had no wallets handed in tonight. It was starting to feel like an impossible mission.

You and Max leave the bar, the cool air wrapping around you like a chilly blanket. The streets are buzzing with late-night energy, but all you can think about is that elusive wallet.

“Okay, next stop,” Max says, pulling out his phone to check the map. “There’s that dive bar a few blocks away. They might have seen something.”

“Dive bar? Sounds fancy!” You giggle, the thought of it making you feel a bit more adventurous. “Will there be karaoke?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Let’s focus on finding your wallet first, then we can talk about exotic pets.”

After a short walk, you arrive at the next bar, its entrance adorned with twinkling fairy lights. You push the door open, a wave of warmth hitting you instantly. It’s cozy inside, with a mix of laughter and music filling the air, just like every other place you had been to.

The bartender, a friendly woman with colourful hair, raises an eyebrow at Max. “What can I get you?”

“We’re looking for a lost wallet,” Max says, cutting to the chase. “Has anyone turned one in?”

She shakes her head, her expression sympathetic. “Sorry, not tonight. But I can help you with drinks if you’d like!”

You sigh, your shoulders drooping a bit. “Well, that’s like 4 bars down, and still no wallet.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” Max reassures you, his tone bright. “How about we take a quick break and sit for a minute? It’ll help take your mind off it.”

You take a sip of the water he had gotten you, and he raises his glass to toast. “To the next adventure!”

You clink your glasses together, laughter bubbling up, easing the tension in your shoulders. “To finding my wallet!”

As you sip your drink, the conversation flows easily. Max shares funny stories about previous bar crawls, and you find yourself laughing harder than you have all night.

“Okay, so if you could have any drink in the world right now, what would it be?” you ask, leaning in with curiosity.

“Hmm, maybe a classic gin and tonic, but made with a specific gin that costs an arm and a leg. Simple, but effective,” he replies, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Boring!” you tease. “You’ve got to spice it up!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, well what would you suggest then?”

“Oooh too many options to just pick one!”

You laugh together, absorbing the warm atmosphere on the pub.

After a few more sips, you notice the bar starting to get busier. “What’s the plan now?” you ask, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety about the wallet.

“Let’s hit one more place after this,” Max suggests, a determined look on his face. “We can’t stop until we find it!”

You skin was beginning to crawl as it started to sink in that you might not find it. It made your palms sweat and your head throb; the thought of losing nearly everything that mattered because of reckless drinking was suffocating. But Max seemed to notice the thoughts forming in your head, placing a soft hand on your shoulder in consolation.

“We’ll find it,” he soothes, rubbing a gentle circle on your skin before letting go. “That’s a promise, yeah?”

He seems genuine, but you just chalk it up to pity.

The last bar that you go to is once again unsuccessful, having had wallets handed in but none distinctly yours. Heaving a heavy sigh, you feel the weight of the past couple weeks’ stress returning to your shoulders, pulling you down into a mental spiral. You don’t even bother wiping the tears away as the roll down your burning cheeks, making the throb in your head pound even harder.

“m'sorry we didn’t find it,” he murmurs, offering a sincere smile that you don’t even glance at.

“s’fine. Can you take me home? I don’t want to be here anymore,” you say, already moving to leave the bar before getting an answer from him.

He leads you to his car, which was conveniently parked less than a block away. The ride there was silent, the only words exchanged being you giving him directions on how to get there. You pull up to your apartment block, moving to get out but noticing that Max does as well.

“What are you doing?” you ask, the words harsher than you intended.

He sighs, moving to help you out of the car. “Can i walk you to your place? I feel bad leaving you alone.”

You pause for a moment, feeling bad – he was just being nice, trying to help you. “Oh, no that’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, no i want to. I promise Molly I’d take care of you. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Considering it a moment, you revel in the soft smile he gives you when you agree. Locking his car, he follows you past the doorman and up towards the elevator. It’s quiet, but not awkwardly so – it’s the kind of silence that’s comfortable, between two friends, if that’s what you were.

The light ding tells you you’ve made it to your floor, and you turn to him before he can walk out.

“I can go from here,” you say, gently nudging his elbow with your own as if to reassure him you’ll be alright. He nods to himself, watching intently as you slowly walk backwards and away from him. “Thank you for all of your help tonight. I most definitely couldn’t do it on my own so… I guess I owe you.”

“Yeah, I guess you do. How does dinner sometime sound?”

You grin, taken aback a little by how forward he was. “That sounds very nice.”

He laughs lightly, and it makes your heart flutter. Theres something behind the smile that he gives you, as if he knows something that you don’t. “Your wallet will make it back to you, I promise,” he remarks.

The doors start to close before you can say anything in response, so you just laugh a little until he can’t see you. Yeah, right! you think, I’m never seeing that wallet again.

A week or so later, Molly and some others are over for dinner at yours. It’s a nice, intimate evening with your closest friends when Molly jumps out of her chair to run to her bag. Someone must have said something that caused a sudden epiphany because damn you have never seen her move so quickly.

She comes back into the room, holding a chunk of pale green with a little note on top. “It’s for you,” she says, placing it in your hands. You realise then that its your wallet, the one you had lost on that fateful night.

You squeal in appreciation, leaping out of your own chair to give her a big bear hug. “Thank you! Oh my god Molly how did you get this?!”

She laughs, enjoying the happiest she had seen you in a hot minute. “It wasn’t me. Max wanted me to give it to you.”

You scoff, not believing her for one minute. She insists, pointing to the little note scribbled on top. It reads:

“I pulled some strings.

Hope this is yours and not some strangers!

-Max”

You are in awe, and the conversation moves on too quickly for you to process what had happened. You spent the rest of the night unable to fully participate in a conversation, too wrapped up in your head.

He had gone out of his way to continue to look for your wallet. It astounded you; a guy you barely knew before that night spent time trying to help you, and didn’t ask anything of it.

You knew you would have to return the favour by getting him some of the over-priced gin he told you so much about.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[mastermindmiko]

Congrats! You're a heart breaker

an: the title will make sense when you read

Pairing: Bill Weasley + fem!reader

Word count: 1933

Summary: You're in love with Bill, unfortunately, Bill's engaged to Fleur

Warnings: Fights, Cheating, Shouting, that's it?

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Requests are open

His entire family is beaming around him, and my heart sinks deeper and deeper, as Fleur shows off the engagement ring she has on her finger. Molly and Ginny are less than pleased to have him marry fleur, but they're still excited.

A hand gets placed on my shoulder, and my grip around my cup tightens in surprise. I look to my side and there's Percy standing beside me. He squeezes my shoulder in support and asks, "Are you alright?"

"I will be." I reply and give him a weak smile. I look back at them and I can't seem to look away. He doesn't even notice that I'm here, and it makes sense, to him I'm only his younger brother's friend.

"Let's go somewhere." Percy says, like he does whenever I get sad. I let him lead me away up to his room. He closes the door behind us and I feel safe enough to let my eyes water. I sit on the bed and grab my blanket that he has stored for me under his bed.

Percy sits beside me and he holds my hand in support. He waves his wand and it brings over a box filled with books. Percy calls it 'the safety box' . It's filled with the books that bring me and Percy comfort and support, whenever one of us feels sad, we grab a book and start reading, the familiar characters fill us with a small sense of joy.

We started the box when Percy fought with his family and he found himself needing more comfort than usual. I never agreed with the whole disagreement, but I had to help my best friend. Eventually, after I gave him a stern talking to, and a couple break downs, he apologized to his family. Molly practically worshiped me the week after he came back.

I pick up one of my favorite books, and he hums in agreement. I grab one of the bookmarks that Percy has on his nightstand and shove it in the first page of the book. He squeezes my hand and says, "I don't think it's going to last."

"Why's that?"

"He doesn't love her." Percy says, and I bitterly chuckle, why would he be engaged to her if he didn't love her? Percy continues, "Bill's a bit like Ron, they're a bit dim when it comes to these types of things."

"And like you." I add, and Percy looks at me confused. I huff, incredulously and say, "Penelope had to give you obvious signs for three months before you noticed anything, and even when you did you couldn't get it through your thick skull. She had to ask you out!"

"That was one time!" Percy complains, and I laugh, "I could name the right if you like."

The door opens and Bill stands there. I wonder how he so easily got away from his family. He looks straight at Percy and then says, "We've been looking for you."

Bill's eyes flicker to Percy's hand that is joined to mine then looks back at his brother. He doesn't spare me a glance, as he turns around to leave, but not before adding, "Come on."

Percy stands and points to the door with his other hand, awkwardly, and repeats, "They're looking for me."

"Go, I'll just stay here for a while." I say, and give him a weak smile, I don't know why I try anymore, Percy already knows that it's fake. He clears his mouth and reluctantly goes to the door. He gives me one more look as if making sure that I'm safe, then shuts the door softly behind him.

I huff and lean back on the bed. This is what happens when you've had the same crush on the same stupid guy since first year.

~~~

I reluctantly went to work next Monday. The ministry has been on edge since the war's started, but it's gotten even worse after Dumbledore died. I worked on training the new Aurors, but not by going on field missions, but by giving them tasks to do, and things to learn.

It was boring most of the time, but I liked working with other people, and helping them reach their dreams of catching dark wizards. This wasn't originally the job I wanted, and I was so close to reaching my dream, but to me, staying home was my priority. I wonder what could've changed if I had gone to Egypt to be a curse breaker.

The worst part of the job was no doubt, the paper work. There was always heaps of it to get done and not enough time to do it. My feet dragged as I went to the office where I do the paper work, instead of the training room where I get to teach Aurors defensive spells.

I'm on the elevator when I notice that there's only few minutes before I'm supposed to be at my office. My boss was unfortunately, Nott Sr., who was not only a tough boss, but a boss was a sexist. He would do anything to get all the women in his department fired, so if I'm late, who knows what'll happen to me.

I bump into someone on my way to the office. I get steadied by two strong hands that feels familiar and I look up to find Bill looking at me. I can't move an inch, with the feelin of both his palms on my skin, it feels as if they're burning me, but I can't move.

"You didn't talk to me the other night." he clears his throat, and I avoid his gaze, I couldn't exactly do that with Fleur hanging off his arm, and I didn't want to either. I reply, shortly, "You were busy."

"Right." He replies, and I really don't know what to say. I look around and I see women eyeing Bill, like they've always had. Bill's attractive, I can't recall a time when he wasn't. We all fancied him when we were third years, but as soon as he graduated, everyone stopped, I didn't.

"Isn't this wonderful?" I hear someone say from behind me, and we turn to find Mr. Diggory coming towards us excitedly. Bill still has an arm on mine when Mr. Diggory comes to us. He grabs Bill's free hand and shakes it, excitedly, "Congratulations! Arthur told me this morning. It's such wonderful news."

Bill smiles awkwardly and thanks the man. Mr. Diggory looks at Bill's hand on my arm which has his engagement ring. I move away from him, as if I couldn't stand having that ring anywhere near me. Mr. Diggory looks between us and his eyes snap to my hand. He looks at me concerned, and says, "My dear, I think you've misplaced your ring! It's only been so song since you've had it!"

I flush a bright red and start to fumble trying to explain to the older man that I wasn't engaged to Bill, despite how much I wanted to be. Bill steps in, and says. "Oh! I'm not- she's not- I'm engaged to Fleur Delacour, sir. Y/N's just a friend."

"I'm one of Percy's closest friends." I interrupt. I've never been Bill's friend and I don't think I ever will be. I give Mr. Diggory a smile. I fix my bag over my shoulder, and excuse myself politely. I walk away, and notice, the clock once again. I groan, I wasn't going to enjoy the talk that Nott was going to give me.

I didn't bother walking faster anyway. I remember what Bill said, and I scoff at his words. When have I ever gave the impression that I was his friend?

~~~

I don't expect to see Bill again until I go to the Burrow once again, but the next day, I find him at the ministry. He was talking to someone, but when he catches me walking, he pauses his conversation and jogs towards me.

I try to rush past him, but he stands in front of me to stop me. I say, "I have class, and I need to go right now."

"You're class starts in ten minutes you have time." Bill says, and rolls his eyes at my antics. I huff and fold my arms over my chest. I look at him with a quirked eyebrow waiting for him to say what he wanted. He avoids my sharp gaze and he fumbles.

"You-you look good today." He stutters and it's my turn to roll my eyes. If it were only a few months ago, I would've jumped up and down at the words. I snap, "What do you want Bill? Why are you here? You don't work here."

"I'm finishing up some things for Gringotts." He says, and I frown, Gringotts, the god forsaken place where everything went to hell. The place he met Fleur. I say, "If you don't have anything to say, let me pass."

"I don't want us to be like this." Bill says, and I don't feel myself getting sad, instead I feel myself getting angry. I hiss, "Are you still engaged, Bill?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then this is how it's going to be." I huff, and walk past him. Onlookers are starting to pay attention to our conversation, and Bill notices. He pulls me off to the side into a secluded area near the toilets where he starts, "It doesn't have to-"

"Bill, leave me alone. Don't talk to me unless it's something Percy related. That's the only way we know each other." I say, and Bill says, "But I don't want it to be that way."

"Can't you understand that talking to you while seeing that stupid ring on your finger is killing me?!" I shout, and I feel my eyes tear up. I lean against the wall, and look away from him. I blink away the tears. I say, "Do you understand how it feels? How I feel?"

Bill doesn't say anything, so I continue to ramble, "I've liked you for forever Bill, and when I went to Egypt, we had fun. I even thought you feel in love with me, like I did with you. You tried to kiss me then ignored me, and I was an idiot to go to you and tell you that I loved you. I don't hear from you for months, and the next time I see you, you're with your family telling them that you got engaged!"

I rub my hands over my face, and wipe away the one tear that fell against my will. My mascara must be ruined. I sniffle and say, "So excuse me, if I don't want to be your friend."

"Wait!" Bill says, before I open the girl's toilets to escape when. I open the door with Bill behind me and we both stand transfixed at the sight inside. I gasp, and that alerts both, Fleur and Roger.

I had no idea that Fleur was here, Percy told me that she was going to France to her parents for a week. Turns out, Parents is code for Roger Davies. Fleur gasps, and pushes Roger away. Bill looks angry, and I take that as my sign to head to my class.

~~~

"The engagement is off." Percy tells me when he enters the flat. I hum in acknowledgement, looking at the set of papers in my hand that were the official grades of everyone in the class, these were the papers that would say if they were going to be Aurors or not.

"Don't you want to go talk to him?" Percy says, and I look up to see Percy shifting from foot to foot in front of me. I narrow my eyes at him, and I bite the insides of my cheeks, and said, "No."

"Too bad." Percy says and as I'm about to inquire about the weird sentence, Bill enters the flat. Percy heads out before Bill can close the door to give us some privacy. I stand up to go to my room, but Bill rushes to talk a hold of my wrist.

"I'm sorry."

Bill was never good at giving heart felt conversations or saying what he was feeling at least to me. He takes a step closer and I look away from him. He takes a hold of my chin in between his fingers, and makes me look at him. My heart skips several beats, and it reminds me of when he almost kissed me. The pleasant feeling leaves me and a bitter one takes it's place.

"I'm sorry that I was an idiot when I didn't kiss you that night." Bill says, and it all comes back to me. That night, I was about to finish my training as a curse breaker and they gave me my acceptance. I was going to work in Egypt, but decided against it. My life was here. I told him and I remember it very clearly.

He had a cake made with the words 'Congrats! You're an official curse breaker' on it. It made me telling him even harder but I did. He shrugged his shoulder like it was no big deal, but I could tell that he didn't want me to leave. The year I spent with him there was one of the happiest times of my life because my crush turned into love that I thought was reciprocated. He hugged me goodbye and when we parted he looked at me like he had something to say. Instead, he grabbed my chin the way he was doing now, and tried to kiss me. He stopped before our lips touched, and left.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I loved you back when you told me." He added. The morning after, I was about to leave for London, and I told him that I loved him. He apologized and left. Bill's hand moved to my cheek to cup it. He says, "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you for months, but I had to."

"Why?" I croak out, my voice heavy with emotion. He rubs his thumb over my cheek, soothingly, and answers, "We were going to be apart. We couldn't have a relationship like that, it would've been easier to get over you, if I didn't talk to you."

"And when you came back. What stopped you? Why did you propose to Fleur?" I ask, one question after the other, and he replies, "I couldn't be with you. I wouldn't do that Percy."

"What do you mean?" I ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He smiles, sadly and says, "Percy told me that he liked you, a while ago. I couldn't be with you when my brother liked you."

"A while ago? You mean..." I trail off, thinking if there were any signs of Percy liking me. I have a revelation and I hit his arm. I shout, "You broke my heart because Percy told you he liked me when we were in third year!"

"Ow! Ow! stop, he already gave me enough of that himself!" Bill complained, and moved away from my arms that were hitting him, aggressively. He help both my wrists to stop me, and he looked into my eyes, and said, "I'm sorry."

"You're going to have to make it up to me." I say, pointedly. He nods his head. He says, "I'm going to make it up to you, and heal that broken heart of yours. What's the first order of business?"

"Finally kissing me."

[lintubintu]

Sky notes

I´m starting another music tag game.

Look through your music collection and name your Top 3 song titles mentioning sun, moon and stars (in any language).

If you can´t find any song titles, try the album or EP name or band name instead.

To round it up to 10 songs, add a wildcard that is sky related and quote your favourite line. Alternatively, tell me about any sky related tradtitionals or native songs you know about too.

Then tag the people you think would have the most interesting music collection.

I start.

Sun:

Ode to the sun by Dredg

Solstice by Matt Berry

Die Sonne scheint by Die Apokalyptischen Reiter

Moon:

Vollmond by In Extremo

Brother Moon by Amorphis

The Moon by The Swell Season

Stars:

Hang me in the Tulsa county stars by John Moreland

Highway Star by Deep Purple

The light of a fading star by Flogging Molly

Sky wildcard:

Sky by The Rasmus

„I never thought I would get it together but finally now as I´m leaving, life has a meaning. I just wanted to see the sky open the one last time.“

I´m tagging @hotcat37 @morbid-things @bisonaari @smimon @teal-skull @katinkulta @zomb1edude @omppupiiras

If you haven´t been tagged and see this, you´re welcome to play along.

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

Molly Cadoret, known brawler,

the brawler: lack of empathy, confrontation

Her hand hurts. It has, for days, though differently; they insisted on a healer to fix her hands, grow back the nails she broke off, but they couldn’t insist that she let them. Three and a half hours of holding her down to pull her nails out to a normal length, clean the scabby mess she’d made of her hands on the stone. Healing hurts less if you don’t fight it, Molly has learned. Hurts like hell if you do.

Her hands have hurt like hell for days.

She thinks with vicious satisfaction that she’s wrecked her knuckles on his face, now, as the high chancellor staggers backwards with a hand covering his freshly-crooked nose, blood spurting bright over his elaborate robes. He does not swear—though the way his eyes are screwed up she thinks he must want to—but he does wave his other hand to return the half-moon of swords drawn to point at her to their sheaths. “It’s fine. Fetch a healer. Miss Cadoret,” the high chancellor says, through his own blood, “this is the greatest honor that we can bestow. There have only, in history, been six—”

“I’ll hit you again,” she says, quite calmly. He won’t make the same mistake of leaning within reach, if he’s smart; but he doesn’t look so sturdy that he can’t be knocked down.

“Martin Septim—”

“Brother Martin.”

“—the Emperor,” continues the high chancellor, with a delicacy not meant for her, “would have wanted some recognition of your—”

She laughs. The sound is ugly, scratchy; she’s made of dry straw and sparking and they, still, won’t just light her. “Because you know that, do you, you know what he wanted, and what he would want now—or you could just go ask him. It’s not like he’s going anywhere now, is it?”

One of the shiny suits of armor beside him, wearing a bland blank face instead of a helm, twitches for the sword again. The high chancellor dabs his handkerchief at his bloody nose and murmurs, “Leave it.” Aloud, he tells her, “We would prefer your cooperation, you understand. The political situation, as it stands, is… precarious.”

“I bet.” Breathe. One-two-three-four— “But I said no.”

“It would be a service to your Empire.”

Service to whose godsforsaken— She says nothing, snips her mouth shut, her teeth sore from grinding them, and flexes the hand she hasn’t hit him with yet at her side. She barely registers the stinging in her palms from a series of bleeding crescents, the fresh nails they made her grow back sharper than she’s used to.

The high chancellor regards her for a moment. “We’ll need to schedule a fitting,” he says, now, to another of his shining bland-faced array, “for the new armor.”

So: she doesn’t even see him, really. Just white. (And light, and light, and light—)

The arc is in progress before she’s aware of it, because she did decide it, and she did warn him. She doesn’t reach him this second time: someone sends her crashing to the cold tile, rattles her skull, sears her vision. She hears some awful howling and it was supposed to be over, it was supposed to be over, but they won’t even leave her anywhere alone and they want to take her name and the wolf and the stone-grit embedded in her fingertips—

“Where is the boy,” the high chancellor is saying as his healer with the dour eyes arrives to set his nose at last, and the suit of armor pinning her to the floor makes no move to get off her. Someone else goes out the door to chase his question.

She runs out of energy before there’s even tears. Finds herself, instead, staring at the ceiling as her pinched face goes slack again, everything too heavy, everything a waste. Her breath rushes out in a limp wet puff.

He stays silent as the healer finishes straightening his nose. Molly can hear her blood in her ears. “Let her up, Quintus.” The suit of armor obliges. She makes no move to get off the floor, anyway. “The remaining Blades insist you are an asset of a sort we are running low on.” The high chancellor sounds cautious—always looking for the stable footing. There isn’t any, obviously, but it won’t be taken the right way if she points it out.

He's the closest one, she thinks, to agreeing with her aloud. “And do you think I’m an asset to anyone,” she says to the patterns on the high ceilings, her voice unsanded.

There is a long, long pause. “Without an emperor,” he says, “there is no Empire. The world is no more secure than it was two weeks ago; we only face a different threat, now. We are yet fighting to preserve the people—their homes, their futures. Miss Cadoret. Can we count you among our number?”

Her body doesn’t even fit right. Too substantial. Too small. Everything useful has already been wrung out.

But this is not the answer he wants, so she gives him nothing, instead.

[zoobus]

I apologize in advance because I'm taking a tag way too seriously and this isn't even YA novel navalgazing, this is literally about a series written for 3rd graders.

I'm realizing "fucked up that the moral of this story was" is a minor trigger for me. It drives me insane in a way obviously unequal to whatever the original context is. But this is my blog so.

The American Girl series was not a moral-driven set of stories! They weren't Animorphs or anything but they were absolutely a kid's introduction to the intrinsic unfairness of life and a solid chunk of the stories ended with the """"moral"""" of the main character left to uncomfortably ponder why something so clearly not right could be allowed to continue before they clunkily skipped to the next story like the previous didn't happen.

I used to own several sets and I skimmed through a few before selling them some years back. The sudden harsh reality of whatever historical ills going on were part of the appeal! It was fucked up and scary and that's why they were good (to an elementary schooler to be clear, these aren't good books)

Like the "moral" of Nellie's story was that it was fucked up to be a child factory worker. It was fucked up that her response to "oh your hair is so pretty, you should grow it longer" was to recount the time she witnessed one of her elementary age coworker get scalped by one of the child labor machines. It was fucked up that she's 8 with PTSD. Of course Nellie got a happy end but like... abused little puppies getting cleaned up and spoiled is a popular media trope. It's not a lesson. Even though it works out for her, you're still left with the knowledge that the girl who's hair was ripped off her skull and untold number of fingerless kids were not adopted by Samantha's rich grandpa.

I'm rarely comfortable saying there's one specific point that a story is objectively going for and you're a fool if you don't see it, but I do think the American Girl series was intentional in showcasing period-specific suffering might have looked like in a way a little kid could conceptualize. And it worked! For example:

Molly, the WW2 American Girl (AG). Her family takes in a little Bri'ish girl and Molly's soooo excited wow imagine having a fancy English girl in your own house. She is irritated when the 9yo lass is very quiet and not into being her doll. After weeks of molly snipping at her, British girl goes off like sorry I'm not fucking prancing around you dumb bitch but I'm not here as a foreign exchange student, I'm here because my house got bombed and my friends and family are probably fucking dead

Samantha, the Victorian AG. We already know Nellie who, as explained before, had a very different life than the wealthy Samantha. But Samantha also had a black nanny she adored up until she disappears without warning. After a lot of snooping, she uncovers that nanny had a baby! So of course she sneaks out at night to find the little man for herself🤫

Her mischievous giggling starts to get more nervous as she gets closer to nanny's address. It's getting dirtier and shittier and there's only black people around and they're openly gawking but not approaching. People live here? Nanny lives here? With a baby? She eventually finds her and the baby who is cute but Samantha is left at the end like. Hm. So. I guess my life is not universal? Much to think about. There's no happy resolution to this. Nanny never returns, segregation continues.

Last one, Addy, the escaped slave (apparently a controversial opinion, but I liked Addy). The other stories take a bit to get to wham aspect, but with her? Right from the start we have Overseer catch Addy slacking while picking cotton. She's just not debugging fast enough. This grown adult man, so infuriated an eight year old child isn't picking cotton tobacco fast enough, forces her to eat one of the fat, green worms she missed. They describe Addy holding back tears, the worm bursting in her mouth, the bitter taste, the humiliation. I feel like this was the first time I like...*got* slavery. You learn about it in school, sure, but owning people, beating people, it sounded bad but unconnected to anything I knew. Like maybe it's because at the time of reading, I too was a daydreamy 8yo black girl, making it hit a little too close. How could anyone do that and feel justified? Or feel nothing at all? An adult made a little kid eat a bug and it didn't hurt his conscious? This guy probably goes to church and doesn't even remember this. He doesn't think he needs forgiveness. This is nothing to him. This is normal. He died thinking he did nothing wrong, probably. Those were my thoughts then. Very good.

These aren't morals. Of course you shouldn't expect a refugee to perform for their host family. Of course you shouldn't make a child eat a worm. Child labor is bad. Didactic American Girl was not.

[cyberphuck]

ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART ONE My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)! When we last left Fitzy-Fitz, it was a really fucking long time ago, sorry, I stopped going to church and learned to chainsmoke (and this book is LONG, I mean it’s LOOOOOOONG, so I kept avoiding getting started on Abridging it, lmao). You can brush up on the frankly insane amount of different characters here at the Royal Assassin Cast of Characters post, or find the links to the rest of the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series here at this link here.

- Fitz awakens one fine October morning in a bed at Jhaampe hospital, where he's been recovering from being poisoned and poisoned and bludgeoned and kicked and drowned. At first he was having eighty seizures a day, but now that it's down to only twenty-five seizures a day, he and Burrich figure it's high time for the two of them to skedaddle before they get snowed in.

  Then, exactly like that scene in Attack on Titan where Eren reaches for a spoon and accidentally turns into a Titan, Fitz drops a spoon and accidentally turns into a seizure. It's a lot less cool. He wakes up hours later back in the same damn hospital bed with Jonqui the King's Sister and now healer sitting beside him.

  "This sucks," he whines.

  "Time heals all wounds, Pull-Out Fail," Jonqui says sagely.

  "Shut the fuck up. I'm fifteen and obviously know a lot more than you about healing, and I've decided I'm never going to get better."

  Burrich strides healthily into the room with a swanky new skunk stripe in his hair where his skull was recently cracked open. "What-ho, Lil Accident, are you ready to go back to Buckkeep?"

  "No. Everybody's gonna make fun of me. You go back without me."

  "So long as you wear that collar," Burrich says solemnly, "I must follow you."

  Fitz touches the black collar with the word DADDY on it in gold letters. "The way you followed my father?"

  "Yes."

  "Was it like, a sex thing?"

  Burrich, who has enough hidden piercings to set off a metal detector at twenty paces, asks, "Are we going back to Buckkeep or what? I'm getting kind of bored sitting here watching you do the Harlem Shake."

  "Also, I heard that Molly's candle shop was foreclosed on and she had to go live with relatives in a town that's about to be raided by Vikings," The Fool says from under the bed.

  "Gosh, I wish I could talk to King Shrewd or the Fool or find out what's happening to Molly," Fitz sighs, then sits up as the room fills with the wavy lines and harp glissando of a dream sequence.

  "Wake up, King Shrewd," the Fool says. He's sitting on a chair, not under the bed or in a hay bale for once, and Fitz finds it extremely disturbing.

  "Fool? What are you doing here?"

  "Oh, King Shrewd and not Fitz, I have to be here because you're sick and old," the Fool fools. "Here, let me fluff your pillows and feed you soup."

  "This is so weird," Shrewd-Fitz says. "I feel like... oh, the Skill line is ringing. What? Vikings are viking Siltbay so late in the fall?"

  "You know, it's creepy when you talk to yourself like that," the Fool mutters.

  But Shitz (Shrewd-Fitz) is already on a Skill video call, watching the Red-Ship Raiders pulling up onto the coast. Vikings run through the town, viking everything in sight. The raiders are wading through blood up to their knees, people are running around headless and on fire, it's awful. The raiders aren't even stealing anything-- they're just wrecking stuff, which anyone who's been to a Raiders game can attest to (go Cowboys).

  "Fool," Shitz says. "You can see the future, right?"

  "This is a weird time to reveal that particular nugget of information, but sure. Let's see... ah, yes. I see a bard who can't fucking read the room trying to find a rhyme for 'dismembered child.' That is not something Jaydee made up, it's a real line from the book."

  "Thank you, Fool, that's extremely fucked up," Shitz says. "Oh wait, who's this on the video call... It's Molly! Oh SHIT, it's Molly and Vikings are going to vike her!"

  But Molly wasn't called Molly Nosebleed as a kid because she's a trembling little violet. A Viking tries to vike her and she stabs him to death, whirls around and shouts "WHO WANTS SOME, MOTHERFUCKERS?!"

  Then a house falls on her.

  "Oh god, oh fuck," Shitz says, panicking. "Fool, use your future vision and tell me if Molly's okay!"

  "A bunch of women died in a bunch of horrible ways," the Fool says. "Do you want me to list them?"

  "No," Shitz says, and so the Fool doesn't spend two pages describing the graphic sexual assault, murder, and maiming of a bunch of townsfolk. Shitz sits back in his bed. "Run off and let Verity know Siltbay is being viked."

  Ever loyal, the Fool cartwheels down the stairs. Then Shitz sighs and says, "Man, being old sucks."

  "Yes it does, so quit your fucking whining about your little seizures and come home," Shrewd says, and ends the Skill call.

  The next morning, Fitz-Fitz packs up his stuff and heads out with Burrich and Hands to make the long boring trip back to Buckkeep.

The return to Buckkeep sucks especially hard because they have to take the 99 instead of the I-5 like last time, and Fitz is getting carsick. Along the way they keep having to stay in incredibly sketch Super 8s, which wouldn't be that bad (free soap and free weird smells!) but Burrich and Hands overhear someone standing out in the hallway talking loudly on their phone about how much King Shrewd fucking sucks.

  "Yeah he keeps raising taxes to 'defend our country' or whatever but Vikings are still viking the beach towns as much as they want," had said the Buckboi in the hallway. "You know who rules, though, Prince Regal!"

  "What towns did Buckboi say were viked?" Fitz asks.

  "A town no one cares about," Hands answers solemnly, "and the one where Molly had a house fall on her."

  After that incident, Burrich decides that they're gonna make the rest of the trip using surface streets and driving through people's yards. "If Regal finds out you're out here, he'll send someone to kill you," Burrich explains. "Verity's definitely not gonna protect you."

  "Is that because he consistently sees me as a tool first and a family member and human being second?"

  "Look," Hands interrupts. "I see Buckkeep-shaped lights in the distance." They ride up to the gates, which are guarded by a kid who was born a thousand years too early to be the squeaky-voiced teen working at the drive-thru. “Halt,” he squeaks. “Who the fuck are you?“

  Burrich scoffs. ”Who the fuck are YOU?“

  ”I asked you first!“

  ”I asked you sec—“

  ”All right, all right, who's holding up the line?“ The last book had a rich and exhausting cast of random extras murmuring in the background, but this one used all of their budget on talking CGI wolves, so they had to fire most of them and give almost all of their lines to Blade, The Guard Captain. His job is to appear at important moments and say things like 'hear, hear!' and 'how big WAS she?' “Holy shit, it's Burrich! Twitter said you and Chivalry's Post Nut Regret were dead!”

  “It's called X now,” Fitz says, emerging dramatically from the shadows.

  “Oh.” Blade says, while four of the other guards die of secondhand embarrassment. “H-hi, Chivalry's Pos... I mean... Fitz. You uh. Did you have a nice trip? Hey, you... did something with your hair, it looks... it looks good!”

  “Prince Regal was going around telling everyone I was dead, wasn't he,” Fitz says flatly.

  “Sometimes I can still hear his voice,“ Regal sighs from somewhere in the castle.

  ”What? No. What?? No! What?! No!“ Blade laughs as six more guards thud to the ground. ”No, of course not! It was just, you know, like, you know. YOU know. You know. I didn't really believe you were dead, I did retweet the link Regal posted but I commented with 'big if true,' so it wasn't really...”

  Fitz smiles. “Ho ho ho, Captain, don't worry your sweet little tits about it. Everyone falls victim to misinformation from time to time, and I accept the apology I assume you were about to provide me. Do carry about your business.”

  Halfway up to the stables, Burrich pulls Fitz aside. “Listen, Lil Accident, we're not at Grandma's house anymore,” he hisses. “You can't talk to people like you matter or Regal's gonna get his panties in a knot about it.”

  “And then he'll choke me,” Fitz agrees.

  “What?”

  “With his knotted up panties.“

  ”I'm also still alive,“ Hands offers after a long silence. ”Fitz, you're too weak and pathetic to wax your own horse, let me do it.“

  ”But...“

  ”Come on, Fitz, let Hands, my new favorite child, take care of the important work.“ Burrich takes Fitz's arm. ”Now go on up to the castle, that collar is making everybody question their sexuality.“

  ”What's a sexuality?“ Fitz asks, just before he's shoved into the castle, screen door banging behind him.

  Inside, Fitz looks around and notices that the place looks cleaner than it had before he'd left on the world's worst road trip. All the beer cans and ash trays have been cleaned up, someone's taken down the band posters and put up tasteful watercolors of succulents, and the 'NICE COCK' that had been scrawled above the toilet has been replaced with 'live laugh love.'

  ”Wrow,“ muses Fitz as he passes a sign on Verity's door that reads 'IF THE WARSHIP'S A-ROCKIN', DON'T COME A-KNOCKIN'. ”I'm kinda gonna miss the crusty sock smell. Good thing my room still reeks like teenaged boy.“

[another-whump-sideblog]

Fixing Tracy -- The Tour

TWs in the tags

Masterlist

"Are you hungry?" Molly asks. As if she didn't just tell Tracy she's broken and Molly intends to fix her.

"How do you plan on fixing me?"

"For right now, all I want is for you to feel safe. I know that will probably take a long time, after everything you've been through, so it's mostly about building up trust, day after day, that you will always have access to food and no one is going to hurt you. Stuff like that."

After everything you've been through. How long has Molly been stalking her? How much does she know? "And… after that?"

"Trauma processing stuff! All at your own pace, of course. I don't plan on forcing you to do anything, I'm just here to help you with what you want to do."

"And keep me locked up."

"And keep you safe. After all, you can't feel safe unless you are safe, and processing trauma while it's still happening is near impossible."

Okay, Tracy's starting to understand Molly's motives now. That doesn't mean they make sense to her, but it does make her feel more secure that Molly won't actively hurt her. "Do you think being held captive against my will isn't traumatic?"

"Change, even good change, can be traumatic sometimes. I'll help you process that too, once you're ready."

"I thought you said processing ongoing trauma is near impossible."

"It's not going to be ongoing, dear. I know that you're shaken up, and it feels like you're going to feel this way forever, but you're not."

Tracy grits her teeth. "You kidnapped me. Do you understand how violating that is? Do you understand that every day I wake up here without ever choosing to be here is going to be violating all over again? Do you see how that's… breaking my boundaries?" She feels a little silly phrasing it like that, but she thinks platitudes are more likely to get through to Molly than just saying she wants to go home.

"You're not going to feel violated every time you wake up here. Once you settle in, knowing that this was against your will is going to be freeing. You're going to be so glad that you can rest without guilt because you never chose to abandon your responsibilities. And don't be silly, dear, just not wanting someone to do something isn't a boundary."

Tracy needs to be on Molly's good side. She needs to gather information and gain trust. Screaming at Molly isn't going to help anything, so she needs to calm down. She forces herself to breathe evenly. "Okay. Okay, how about a tour?" Anything but listening to Molly say that kidnapping someone isn't a violation of their boundaries, fucking hell.

Molly grins. "Oh, I've been so rude! Yes, I'll show you around." 

She gets up and offers Tracy a hand, which Tracy doesn't take as she gets up.

"This is the main area, as you can probably tell. I have lots of DVDs and stuff for the TV on that bookshelf. It's also got a bunch of video games! None of it is connected to the internet, for obvious reasons, but if there's anything that you want that I don't have, you should let me know!"

Molly walks over to a small table with two chairs and Tracy follows. "This is the dining area, but you can eat on the couches if you want. I don't mind. You already saw the bathroom, feel free to let me know if any of the products aren't to your liking." 

Molly opens a door next to the bathroom. "This is the kitchen! I stocked it up with your favorite foods, but again, let me know if there's anything else you want. You've already seen your bedroom, of course. I'm always willing to get you new clothes or new bedding if you'd like. And finally…"

Tracy couldn’t see any knives in the kitchen. Molly guides Tracy to another door and opens it. "This is, like, an indoor gym kind of thing. I know a lot of the activities I prepared for you are pretty sedentary, so I figured I should give you a few options to get moving if you want."

There aren't any weights. If only there were, Tracy could bash Molly's skull in.

"And that's it! Oh, I forgot, that bookshelf has a bunch of card games and board games if you ever want one of those. Besides that and the TV bookshelf, the other bookshelves just have books. I know how much you like to read, so I wanted to make sure you have lots of options."

There's one door that Molly didn't open. That must be the way out. 

"Shoot, I keep forgetting things!" Molly rushes over to a strange device on the wall. "This will allow you to contact me while I'm upstairs. Just press this button and talk into it, and I'll hear whatever you're saying! Well, I will if I'm home. I'll let you know before I leave, though."

Upstairs. That door leads upstairs. Tracy feels a rush of pride. She held back her anger and got some information, just like she planned. She'll be out of here in no time.

"Thank you for the tour."

"You're welcome! What would you like to do now? Besides leaving, I mean. Are you hungry?”

“…yeah. I’ll make myself something.”

“I labeled the drawers and cupboards, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find whatever you need if you want to cook.”

“…thank you.” Tracy heads to the kitchen.

“Do you want help?”

She wants to search the kitchen for potential weapons. “No, I want to be alone.”

“Of course. I’ll be out here reading if you need me.”

Molly’s nonchalance worries Tracy. Is she really not worried about what Tracy might find in the kitchen at all? How can she be so sure that Tracy will stay cooperative?

The kitchen door also locks from the inside, so Tracy makes sure to lock herself in before setting down her lightbulb. Sure enough, the cupboards and drawers are labeled, and looking through them all reveals them to be labeled correctly. There's one filled with her favorite snacks, so she stuffs a bunch of them in her pockets. Just in case. 

There are no knives. Maybe she could ask for one? Molly has kept insisting she can ask for anything.

A quick look in the fridge reveals that probably wouldn't do anything. Everything that she might want to chop or cut is pre-prepared. If she asked Molly for a knife, she'd probably say something like 'What would you possibly need that for, dear?' Ugh.

There are pots and pans that Tracy thinks could make for good weapons. She doesn't plan to use them now, she needs to keep gathering information, but it's useful to know. 

Now she needs to make herself something to eat. There are an overwhelming amount of options, and she struggles to narrow it down. She should start with the most perishable stuff first, right? Just in case.

She settles on making an egg salad sandwich. Two, actually, one for her and one for Molly, as a show of cooperation to hopefully get Molly to let her guard down.

The simple process of cooking helps her to relax a bit and think through her situation.

Most likely, the only way out of here is through the door. There are windows in the main area, but they're high up and frosted like the one in the bedroom. Since she wasn't strong enough to break that one, she probably wouldn't be able to break any of the others either. It didn't look like the chairs in the 'dining area' were nailed down, though, so maybe she'll be able to use one to stand on and get a better angle to attack the windows.

The door has a better chance, though. She's very familiar with how to break down doors. As long as things stay like this and Tracy isn't in any active danger, the plan is to wait until Molly leaves for the night and then break down the door and get out of here.

Molly will leave, right? There's only one bedroom down here…

If Molly plans on sharing a bed with Tracy… well, that's even better. Tracy can suffocate her with a pillow once she falls asleep.

She wonders if she'd get arrested for that. Really, there's no way to prove she's been kidnapped and didn't just decide to move in with Molly voluntarily. There's nothing incriminating about anything down here. So… once she escapes, she won't go to the police. Too much of a hassle. Hopefully she won't have to murder Molly. Maybe she should start breaking things, to show signs that she was being held against her will if a police investigation does happen.

Wait. Tracy nearly smacks herself in annoyance. If Molly decides to sleep down here, murder won't be necessary, because she's definitely got the key to that door on her somewhere. So long as Tracy can get it quietly, she'll be able to slip out and be long gone by the time Molly wakes up.

What does it say about her, that she thought of murder before thinking of that?

Who cares?

She actually doesn't even know if that door is locked. It almost definitely is, but she'll probably want to try it before any attempts at breaking down the door or stealing any keys.

She finishes up her egg salad sandwiches, unlocks the kitchen door, sets the plates and utensils on the table, goes back into the kitchen to get her lightbulb, and then finally sits down.

"I made some for you. I don't know if you like egg salad sandwiches, or if you've already eaten recently, so if you don't want it I can just have yours as leftovers later."

Molly gasps. "That's so nice!" She sets down her book and comes to get seated at the table instead. "Let me know if you run out of anything in the kitchen, by the way, so that I can get you more."

Tracy nods and eats her sandwich. Molly follows suit, taking incredibly tiny bites at first and then switching to eating the sandwich normally.

She didn't look apprehensive at all, but it seems like she was testing to make sure Tracy didn't do anything to the food. She knows Tracy doesn't have access to anything that could kill her, but Tracy could have poured a bunch of some spice on it or made it gross some other way, or even put soap in it.

Molly expects Tracy to try to hurt her. That's very interesting. She doesn't act like it, she's even let Tracy carry around an improvised weapon with no complaints, but she isn't stupid.

It's good to have this as a benchmark. Molly hasn't let down her guard, even if she acts unguarded. The way she's behaved so far is how she behaves while she fully expects someone to hurt her.

Tracy doesn't share any of those thoughts. Instead, she takes the dishes back to the kitchen and sets them in the sink. If she ends up staying here long enough that she has to wash dishes… that would suck.

There are clocks on the stove and microwave in the kitchen, and they seem to be the only ones in her 'new home,' so she checks the time before heading back into the main area. It's 11 AM.

For now, she just needs to kill time until she's either alone or can get the key from Molly. She takes a deep breath and leaves the kitchen, still clutching her lightbulb.

"You should show me how to work the TV. I've never used a DVD player before."

Tracy spends the rest of the day trying to be friendly to Molly and seem like she's totally fine with being 'fixed.' It's… not that hard at all, especially once she gets into one of the video games Molly shows her. She can't remember the last time that time flew like that for her.

When sunlight stops coming through the windows, Molly yawns. "I'm going to go upstairs and go to bed. Unless you want me to stay with you?"

Tracy shakes her head immediately and Molly chuckles.

"I figured. Try not to spend all night gaming, it's not good for you." Molly tries to pat the top of Tracy's head (which she skillfully dodges), and then she leaves.

Molly watches this part very carefully. She takes a single key out of her pocket (so the door was locked) and unlocks the door. After she steps through it and closes the door behind her, there's a small click to indicate it's been locked again.

Tracy'll have to break it down. She'll wait a couple of hours to be sure Molly's asleep, and then she'll break down the door and get out of here. Just a few more hours.

[imeternallylove]

Secret - S.Holmes; part seven

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Genre: purely angst, upcoming age and some smut

Warning: none

Word: 2.8k

main mastetlist  | request & ask | prompts | theme song

Chapters index

prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part night | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | epilogue

Sherlock stared blankly at the words 'Y/N Harris and Zoe Harris' printed out on the report in front of him, seeing the black shapes but failing to focus properly to read. His mind was still reeling from what he'd learned, attempting to absorb and make sense of it all. So he had a daughter: a kid he hadn't even known about for five years.

How could he not notice it? How could you have lied to him and kept such a critical facts hidden from him? You were meant to be his best friend, but did he truly know you when you held the most significant part of your life secreted from him?

If Zoe hadn’t had a seizure today, would he ever have found out that he had a daughter?

His heart clenched in pain at the thought of little Zoe… His daughter. He was a father now. At least he was in title – he hadn’t done anything to deserve being a father. And just when he’d had his first chance, he ran in the opposite direction like a coward. Would he have done the same thing if you had told him you were pregnant all those years ago?

“Sent Susan’s skull back to Bart’s yet?” His flat mate asked, pulling him back to reality and yours with his daughter’s files is what he was supposed to be paying attention to.

As he looked around the flat, he noticed John staring at him with an expectant expression on his face as he set down the grocery bags and returned Sherlock's credit card into the wallet over the stove. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" The detective stuttered, nervously licking his lips.

“Susan’s skull,” the shorter explained, frowning at Sherlock for a second along with the rest of the flat before carrying on. “I met Molly and the grocery store and she asking for that skull. Maybe tomorrow you go drop her toy there?”

Sherlock just nodded, dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the image of you and Zoe out of his head. He didn’t know what to do. Too much was spinning around in his head and he didn’t know what the best thing was.

Should he try and be a father to Zoe? 

Would you want him to?

Would you let him in?

Would Zoe even want him?

A sharp nudge in his ribs brought him back from this thoughts, the kitchen-lab filtering through his vision again. “Are you ok?” John murmured quietly in his ear, a worried expression on his face as he stood against the counter.

He looked at his friend and felt the pressure of his life weighing heavy on his shoulders. He wasn’t ok. He was a lot of things 一confused, angry, hurt, lost 一but definitely not ok. “I need some air,” he gasped breathlessly, feeling like the walls were closing in and suffocating. Without another word, he pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat and scarf, stumbling down the stair's then throwing the doors open and sprinting down the street.

All he could think about was that he needed to escape.

He shoved a door open and fell into the cab that just passed him, collapsing into the backseat with his head resting on the cool window. Tried to calm himself down. In the end, he squeezed his eyes while his palm on his mouth, didn’t care that the driver looks back from driver’s mirror …and then he just cried, crying in silence as he could.

“What am I going to do?”

You were distracting Zoe with a game on your phone when doctor Jonathan pretended to knock on the cubicle and pulled the curtain back a little to step inside. He was carrying a brown folder in his arms that you assumed were the results from the number of tests your daughter had been put through and there was a smile on his lips. Did that mean he had good news?

“I’ve got the results back from the MRI scan and the blood work we had done,” he started, opening up the folder so he could rally off some numbers and levels that didn’t make much sense to you. “We think the seizure was caused by an infection,” he announced, looking up from the folder and pushing up his black framed glasses.

You frowned, flickering your gaze from the doctor to your daughter, who had earphones in to block of the hospital noise. “It’s not epilepsy?” You questioned. The first thing that you ran through your head when you heard of Zoe’s seizure, was epilepsy. 

The doctor nodded slowly. “The MRI scan showed no signs of epilepsy whereas the blood tests seem to suggest an infection,” he explained in a calm voice that oddly soothed you. “We’re going to start Zoe on antibiotics and move her up to the children's ward so she can be observed overnight. If the antibiotics start to work and the fever she’s developed reduces, we can think about letting her go tomorrow.”

“And there’s no lasting damage?” you asked, looking back at Zoe and pushing the hair back off her face while she carried on quietly playing the game on your phone. “She’ll be ok?”

“She should be back to dancing around her bedroom in no time,” he laughed, bowing his head before placing the folder with the file at the bottom of Zoe’s bed and closing the curtain behind him.

Leaning back in your chair, you ran a shaky hand through your hair and sighed in relief. Zoe was going to be ok. The heavy weight on your shoulders began to lift and you suddenly found it a little easier to breathe. All the anxiety that had built up like a knot in your stomach started to unravel. The worst was over … at least in terms of Zoe’s health scare.

“What did Mr Doctor say?” Zoe asked quietly, making you look up from your lap. Her face betrayed how tired she was, her usually sparkly eyes dull and drooping low. But you knew she was trying to be brave and hide how terrible she felt, because she was being stupid and trying not to worry you.

You moved closer to the bed and folded her tiny hand in your own. “You’re going to be fine,” you told her with a big smile. “He said they are going to move you to the children's ward and give you some medicine. If you feel better tomorrow, they might let you go home.”

“So we’re having a sleepover at the hospital?” She smiled up at you, but it soon turned into a yawn.

Taking your phone away from her, you plumped up the pillow behind her head and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Yeah we are,” you reassured her, kissing her brow softly. “Why don’t you have a little nap before they move us?”

She tried to resist but after a couple of minutes of soft head strokes, your daughter was out like a light.

With your daughter taken care of, your mind ultimately fell to the other important person in your life. You never meant for that to be how Sherlock found out he was a father. Then again, you hadn’t ever allowed yourself to think about Sherlock finding out. You never expected him to walk back into your life like this, to worm his way back into your heart like he never left. And now he knew, he was gone and you couldn’t help but feel crushed by his absence.

You wanted a chance to explain everything to him so he could understand why you did what you did. It wasn’t that you were proud of your decision but you did what you thought was best at the time: for you, for Sherlock and for your unborn child.

Your phone suddenly beeped alive with a message and your heart soared at the possibility of it being from Sherlock. Since he ran out, you’d tried calling and texting him but everything had been ignored. Quickly you swiped your phone unlocked and opened up your messages, only to find a text from Elle’s mother instead. Your heart swiftly sunk again, throbbing with a dull ache of pain you were getting used to.

Apparently Elle had a card from the whole class and really wanted to see Zoe and make sure she was ok. Holding the tiny tears pf disappointment in the corners of your eyes, you sent a quick message back, inviting them to the hospital in an hour or so once you were settled in the ward. You knew Zoe would love to see Elle, and you didn’t want her to be alone while you went home to gather some things for your hospital stay.

After sending the message to Elle’s mother, you tried calling Sherlock again. So much was up in the air and you just wanted to hear his voice. But all you got was his answerphone …and that’s when the first tear fell.

Sherlock had been sitting on the bench outside the hospital since midnight, deciding whether or not to go inside. He has a pair of cigarettes in his hand, a habit that he brings it along when he needs to think, but he hasn't used them yet.

He wanted to see Zoe and find out how she was doing, but he didn't want to see you. The anguish of your betrayal was still fresh in his heart, and he needed time to gather his thoughts or he'd say something he'd eventually regret. He didn't want to add to the commotion. 

So Sherlock snatched his coat and hopped out of the bench, his scarlet face hidden from view as he hurried into the hospital reception. He said Zoe's name to the receptionist behind her desk and begged her to tell him where she his daughter in the hospital.

"I really apologise, sir. We can only give that information to family members," she replied, with a disappointed smile.

Sherlock clenched his fists and took a big breath. "I am her father. She had previously been hospitalised after having a seizure at school. Please, I need to see her," he pleaded, his lips pinched together.

Squinting at something on the screen, the receptionist began typing on her computer. "Can you tell me her date of birth?" She persisted in her probe. 

The date of his daughter's birthday was now irrevocably ingrained in his thoughts.  Even if he made an effort he couldn't forget it. "September 21st, 2006," he said hastily, trying to relax by loosening his grip and hiding his hands in his pockets.

"They've moved her to the the kid's ward for observations," informed the receptionist. "Take the elevator to the second floor and then follow the blue signs," she responded, smiling.

Sherlock rushed to the lift, impatiently waiting for it to come and then again for it to move up. When it did, and the doors on the second floor opened, he jogged down the corridor, following the blue signs as instructed. He was suddenly outside, gazing in through the window of the door, after being buzzed into the hospital and asking a nurse for Zoe's room.

The room was barely lit by a small nightlight in the corner, but Sherlock could see Zoe well, curled up in a little ball on her side, her head resting on a teddybear. Her hand was connected to an IV line, which was slowly releasing fluids into her body. She appeared tiny and fragile, almost swallowed up by such a large bed. Sherlock couldn't believe she was his daughter.

But when he looked closely, he could see it, the little portions of her that were practically identical to him. Her eyes have a beautiful contour. Her lovely lips' delicate curvature. Her brown hair was splattered across her brow. She had all of your greatest characteristics as well: the same small button for a nose, the same round face, the same small ears that you used to carefully tuck hair behind.

Sherlock instantly realised that he had produced this little child, and that it was also his responsibility; otherwise, he should never call himself a father. 

His attention shifted away from Zoe and rested on you, sleeping sweetly in the recliner positioned as close to Zoe's bedside as possible, your hand extending on top of her blankets to securely clasp her tiny hand. He tried to figure out why you would lie to him and keep such a lovely girl from him, but it only made his heart suffer more.

Sherlock moves his hand over your head, trying to fondle your head with his like he has done for many years before. He holds his breath, hesitates, and his spread-out fingers tighten into a firmly fist. Yet, he loses control in the end, gently tugging your hair away from your face, realising you're fatigued expressly even if you were sleeping just there.

He despised the fact that you'd lied to him, for whatever reason. You are the liar. Sherlock was no longer enraged. He was just hurt, you always pushed him back downward. That's why he believed that just because you had kisses, laying on his embraces, eye contact in the class, or when your cheeks were red when he pulled you sitting on his laps, even had sexual conduct with him, it’s doesn’t mean you have felt the same way he did.

However, Zoe was not born without your blessing. It happened twice when you two were engulfed in ardent lust, and both unprotected. Sherlock is sorely sure that you are still remembered the nights of incredible sex between him and you.

He grabs Zoe's hand and watches her for another seizure, his lips delicately pressing on her back palm, which is so small in compared to his. Sherlock Holmes, he typically has a solemn and dry face whenever he goes out or whatever, but the teardrops on his under eyelids reminding him that he was weak from all, these droplets making his vision hazy and hazier.

Sighing, it was the middle of the night. He had to go to Molly's lab in a few of hours and needed at least a few minutes of sleep to get through the day. It hurt him to leave when he had only just arrived, but it had been a hard day and seeing you and Zoe fast asleep made him terribly jealous.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered quietly, peeling himself away from the door reluctantly.

You were startled to wake up in a hospital room, until everything that happened of yesterday before rushed back to you. The day had begun routinely enough, with Zoe being dropped off at school, all the pressure at work, and then lunch with Sherlock. Then you got the call about Zoe's seizure, and everything seemed to fall apart from there. Zoe was in the hospital on antibiotics, and Sherlock had discovered your secret and was ignoring you.

You couldn't seem to concentrate on him. Zoe was your first priority, and she was moving right in front of you.

"Morning, little one," you said softly, scooting closer to stroke her hair away from her face and cup her warm cheeks. You kept waking up during the night to make sure she was still alive and breathing. "How are you feeling?"

Her lovely eyes widened, and the glitter in them returned slightly. "Hungry," she muttered sleepily, clutching Mr Snuggles and kissing him good morning.

"Yep, you're definitely feeling better," you replied, lifting her up and kissing the top of her head. Your back ached from the uncomfortable positions after sleeping fitfully in an armchair all night. "Shall we go to the café for breakfast?" You asked, raising your arms up over your head in an attempt to realign your spine.

Zoe soon sat up, a smile on her face. “Yes! Please, mummy!" She flung aside her blankets and climbed out of bed slowly, being mindful of the IV anchoring her to a bag of medicines. 

"Do you need any help, little one?" You volunteered, already walking around the bed to give help. 

“Mummyyyyy! I can pee pee by my myself!" She exclaimed as she pushed the IV into the bathroom. "I have been doing it since I was two!" She stuck her tongue out and slammed the door behind her, making you giggle. No lie, she made you feels so much better right now. 

While you waited, you checked your phone for calls and emails, surprised and a little afraid to find a message from Sherlock. Nerves hammered hard in your chest. You were terrified to read what he had to say. Would he be upset? Was it a message saying he didn't want to see you again?

You gulped hard and pursed your lips in a tight line, swiping the message open with bated breath. Whatever words were written on his letter were going to transform your and Zoe's lives, and the thought of that terrified the crap out of you. But you needed to confront the lies you told, so you looked down at your phone, your heart missing a beat.

‘I want to meet Zoe ㅡ SH’

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Proven Guilty live blog

Proven Guilty live blog

We start with an execution of a 16 year old warlock 

Is the hood really necessary?

There has got to be something better than just execution or the doom 

Can Harry punch Merlin as well? Harry saved the day with killing Corpsetaker and stopping Cowl and it gets thrown back in his face 

Merlin seriously bought a warlock all the way from presumably South Korea to Chicago to have Harry watch that’s incredibly petty 

I’m glad both Harry and Ebenezar know about the traitor and are doing something about it 

I like Ebenezar’s Scottish accent creeping in his speech

Oh uh black magic is afoot 

No Harry, Ebenezar is trying to make amends go to lunch together 

Lasciel appears yay!

Ha Harry made Lasciel wear a seatbelt 

Aw Harry’s avoiding Michael :(

Oh no someone hit Harry with a car 

Oh Harry is good at lying not sure if that’s good or bad 

“All lean muscle, sculpted and well formed” pg. 58 Bi Harry 23

Thomas! 

“Because guys don’t do it like that” pg. 60 Harry that’s stupid talk to Thomas 

Fix! 

Billy got married?!? When was this?

“None of the evil geniuses I ever worked for could have handled something like this” pg. 72 Harry is smart as Little Chicago sounds complicated 

Little Chicago is really cool 

Molly’s in jail why is Molly in jail? What did she do? 

Hey Harry (and Jim) could maybe please tone down the description of Molly please 

Why does Molly’s boyfriend kinda sound like Harry appearance wise? Or am I reading too much into it?

Molly’s what 17? Why isn’t she living with her parents? Why isn’t she in school? Did she run away? 

Molly got full named 

Charity stop with the animosity with Harry 

Charity maybe don’t say your daughter looks like a savage 

“Possession. Marijuana and Ecstasy” pg. 122 Ha Molly had Molly (Ecstasy) Those drugs aren’t that bad. I’m with Michael parenting wise

“Professional Wizard Incinerates Amateur Vampire. News at 10” pg. 131 Harry this is probably a trauma response please go get therapy or talk to your friends 

“Actually I do,” I said. “I make fun of almost everything” pg. 133 Ha

“I would be coming down on the same side of the situation as Charity, which might be one of the signs of the apocalypse.” pg. 134 Ha 

Rawlins! 

“Believe me. I know burning buildings.” pg. 144 Ha and yes Harry knows burning buildings incredibly well 

So the bad guy came in and out through NeverNever is what I’m guessing maybe they were fae? 

Murphy! I’ve missed you 

Killing somebody must really eat you up inside 

“What if I grow into some kind of monster? One who takes life without consideration for anything but his own will. Who cares more about end than means. More about might than right. What if this is the first step?” pg. 175 No Harry you’re not monster 

“Painfully obvious, sometimes” pg. 176 Yep

“If we ever did get together, I’d kill you inside a week” pg. 177 it’s both funny and painful knowing that they’ll get together and then Murphy will died

No Harry take your duster knowing your luck you’ll need it 

Do bring Mouse because he’s wonderful 

“Mouse isn’t big. He’s compactly challenged” pg. 186 Ha

I’d be nice if Harry could actually use new technology and not short circuit it 

“Karrie Murphy” pg. 190 Karrie?!? It’s like when Ebenezar calls Harry Hoss

Is Molly magic? Is she doing gray or black magic? Is she a warlock? Cause Mouse’s reactions to her are sus. Like he can detect evil and he’s acting like Molly is bad. Maybe she hasn’t done anything too bad so Mouse isn’t on all out attack yet. Harry should really listen to Mouse. Maybe she’s all the black magic that’s happening? As I’m not sure if the council would know about nonhuman beings performing black magic. That brings into question some stuff with Harry, Justin, and papa Raith. Why would Molly do Black magic? It's bad? Maybe she doesn’t know? 

“Worse, there were what looked like almost like burn marks on her temples

-small, black, neat holes, as if someone had board a hot needle through the skin and skull beneath.” pg. 195 Ok so probably Molly has mind magic cause that’s too precise to be from an attack and she’s been hopefully trying to help her friends not be addicted to drugs cause you don’t become sober in two weeks from heroin that girl should definitely be having withdrawals. But mind magic is a big no no in terms of the laws. And you know it's ethically bad. I feel like even not knowing the Laws Molly should know better than to do mind magic as the media hasn’t presented mind control as good. Does she know the laws? Surely not or she wouldn’t meddle with mind magic. Can she do other magic? Can talent just pop up? Harry’s mom was magic so it seems like it can pass down? So maybe Michael or Charity could do magic at some point but not now as Harry’s touched them before and he didn’t mention anything magic. Maybe it has something to do with Michael being magic adjacent to being a knight. Or maybe Charity used to do magic. Harry hasn’t had a handshake with Molly yet. Last time Harry saw Molly she was 14 back in Death Mask and she didn’t have magic then. When does magic come up? Puberty? When did Harry’s magic come up? This is all under the assumption that she has magic. So many questions and theories and wild guessing

“Sir” pg. 203 Harry called Pell sir? I thought he only called Ebenezar sir? Maybe it’s just old men that Harry respects that get called sir?

“Thing is. That was the only damn movie ever scared me” pg. 204 Interesting 

“It’s a spiritual entity that feeds on fear. It attacks in order to scare away people, and feeds on that emotion” pg. 205 Spooky 

“You take too much responsibility on yourself, Harry. You’re just one man, but you're still only human” pg. 207 aw :( Harry needs to not take so much responsibility.

“This is what happens when I don’t wear the coat” I opined “People start thinking I’m not a superhero” pg. 207 Ha

“You can’t be everywhere at once. You can’t stop all the bad things that are going to happen” 

“Doesn’t mean people shouldn’t try” I said 

“Maybe. But you take it personal. You tear yourself up over it. Like with that girl just now”  pg. 207 Harry really does follow Peter Parker

“I just can’t stand it. I can’t stand seeing people get hurt like that. I hate it” pg. 208 

Yep

Aw Thomas is leaving:(

Why does Maeve know Harry hasn’t been with anyone?

“Technically? When I killed Aurora” pg. 235 Well Harry’s correct 

“When I’d defeated Aurora, there had been a healthy chunk of luck involved.” pg. 236 Well there saw some skill involved 

What did Maeve do at Billy and Georgia’s wedding?

“These mortal notions,” said Maeve “Good, Evil, love. All those other things your kind natter on about. Are they perhaps contagious” pg. 240 Interesting idea humanity is infecting 

 Rich is here boo 

Butters mentioned!

“Crane was a surprisingly good-looking man” pg. 252 Bi Harry 24

“He turned that dazzling smile on Murph” pg. 256 Bi Harry 25

“He recognized too, I felt famous” pg. 258 Oh he’s a supernatural

“Go read the yellow pages in your room. I’m in  there. Under Wizard” pg. 258 Ha

“Greene was an ass” pg. 271 Couldn’t agree more 

So they’re illegally interrogating Molly a minor without her parents there shame on them 

I want Rich and Greene fired 

What would Sam Vimes say? 

What’ll happen when Murphy finds out?

Why doesn’t Harry have a conceal carry license? 

“Would it kill you to stop being an asshole for five minutes, Rich?” pg. I think it might actually kill him  

Huh I thought Murph would be madder

“But any child of mine would inherit more than my eyes and killer chin” 

“Any child of mine would be bound to inherit some of my enemies, and worse maybe some of my allies” pg. 283 aw :( poor Harry 

“I didn’t follow her right away

She didn’t look back 

Stab

Twist 

God, I love being a wizard” pg. 284 ouch 

“One of these days, you’re gonna have to tell me what you did to make Mab want to kill you” pg. 289 What did Bob do?

“Even knights can die, Molly. Shiro did. It could happen to Michael too.” pg. 294 ouch more pain 

Bob please stop talking about Molly like that I’m begging you 

“Bob is my little creep, and the only one who gets to call him names is me.” pg. 298 Ha

“That boyfriend Nelson bears quite the striking physical resemblance to you” pg. 298 What. I was joking before. It was supposed to be a weird tin foil theory. I wasn’t supposed to right. 

Bob and Lasciel better be wrong about Harry and Molly I swear

I like it when Harry performs magic. Interesting descriptions 

“But imagining invisible perpetrators or hidden conspiracies veers pretty close to paranoia” pg. 302 Murphy, Harry’s a bit paranoid 

“It’s only paranoia if I’m wrong” pg. 303 Ha

I like it when Harry gets technical when he talks about magic; he's such a magic nerd!

“The universe conspired against me” pg. 307 Ha and yes Jim is definitely out to get Harry

“Charity introduced my chin to her right hook” pg. 307 Ouch 

“I’ve had an incident or two with involving buildings and fire” pg. 323 Ha 

“She’s dead” pg. 329 oh no 

I’m not sure if Harry let the phage go he would have been able to save the girl

MOUSE! I know he’ll live but poor got hit a car that’s got to hurt

“Your head must be as hard as everyone says” pg. 341 Ha and yes Harry indeed have a hard head

“As tall and dark and handsome as you please” pg. 341 Bi Harry 26 

“You’re siphoning my noble hero vibe” I told him “Cease and desists or I’ll sue” pg. 345 Ha

“So who’s going to pony up for one Harry Dresden, slightly used?” pg. 346 Ha

“I suddenly felt cold, all over.

I was captured by the Red Court once. Held in the dark by a crowd of hissing, monstrous shapes.

They did things.

There was nothing, I could do about it.

I still had nightmares to remind me 

Not every night, maybe, but often enough. 

Often enough.” pg. 346 Poor Harry :( This doesn’t help the implications. Harry describes some truly terrible and awful things and the fact that he doesn’t with what happened to him is telling. It makes sense to me as it can take people time to come to terms with the fact that they were victims. Harry not being able to speak about it other than saying they did things to him adds to it. 

“That the White Council’s unyielding policy is one of nonnegotiation with terrorist” pg. 347 Boo white council 

“No unacceptable. A numbered account only. I don’t trust those people on PayPal” pg. 347 Who is trying to buy Harry on eBay? Is it Marcone? I bet it’s Marcone because that’ll be funny. This is my head cannon 

“Are you selling me eBay?” pg. 347 Ha

“There are too many blondes in your life, my host” pg. 348 Ha

The Full Moon Garage is there no other creepy warehouse in Chicago? Do the villains have a time share on this place? Out of the warehouse you choose this one? 

Thomas to the rescue! 

“I’ll not surrender this prize” pg. 368 Harry isn’t a prize to be bought >:(

“My dog was alright. Maybe my eyes misted up a little.” pg. 373 Aw Mouse is ok 

“And the expensive puddle of water instantly froze into a sheet of glittering ice” pg. 390 so cool that Harry used a fire spell to freeze something 

“Hell you think I’m going to walk into one of your patented Harry Dresden anarchy-gasm without all the protection I can get” pg. 392 Ha

Thomas took part in the Wild Hunt

What why would Molly be behind the phage? 

Oh no the other kids :(

Charity is scary 

“I never look good” pg. 409 True

“He rapped his knuckles gently with my own” pg. 410 Yeah fist bump 

“It is beautiful here” pg. 412 Lasciel having doubts 

“Sometime in the Mesozoic Era” pg. 410 Ha

Nelson has the same wounds as Rosie 

“How long has it been since you’ve used your magic?” pg. 424 I was right?!? My theory was correct?

“Wardens got wind of it” pg. 427 More questions about the White Council 

So Michael saved Charity from a dragon cool

Michael doesn’t know!?! Why didn’t Charity tell him? This is a big secret to keep from your husband 

“I was setting an example to Molly of everything Charity wanted her to avoid” pg. 429 that’s not Harry’s fault 

I feel like this whole conflict could have been avoided if people were open and honest with each other. Communication 

“I think she used magic to invade their minds” pg. 430 I’D LIKE TO STOP BEING CORRECT NOW. 

I’d like to be wrong about Molly and magic please 

“There’s a child out there who needs me. I’d rather die than let her down. I’m doing the spell, period. So fuck off.” pg. 448 So cool 

“Murmuring a stream of faux Latin” pg. 449 So Harry uses Latin for his spells. But the White Council speaks Latin. Does Elaine also speak spells in Latin? Why would Justin let them speak in Latin when the White Council also speaks Latin? 

Yay Little Chicago worked

“Then I turned on Murphy and gave her a jubilant kiss on the mouth.” pg. 460 Yay!

“Hey Murph” I said “Look at that zeppelin” pg. 477 Ha

 “So, like a crazed loner with more death wish than survival instincts” pg. 480 Ha

“I don’t care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching-they are your family.

And they were my heroes” pg. 492 So cool

“I’d done worst in the past with both Justin DoMure and Ebenezar” pg. 497 I’m questioning both of your teaching methods 

“I’m starting to think that maybe I’m getting a little bit out of my depth here” pg. 500 Ha

“I mean, God, you are dense sometimes. Are you just now noticing this, Harry?” pg. 500 Ha

Oh someone attacked Mab’s fortress with Hellfire

So many bones

“How about a little fire Scarecrow” pg. 531 Cool

Is Mab just torturing Slad till Harry becomes the Winter Knight? Slad seemed happy that Harry had come to supposedly kill him. Maybe that’s how Winter knight get chosen kill the previous one. If Harry does kill Slad I’d view it more as a mercy kill at this point. Put the man out of his misery 

Oh no Lea 

She doesn’t seem herself. Is she possessed? Is that why she tried to usurp Mab? 

“Why all of Winter, child. All of us” pg. 543 Oh no

“Then give me the sword and I’ll do it myself. I’m not leaving her.” pg. 544 aw :) Harry care about Lea

Well Lea is definitely possessed 

“I can’t sleep well any night I haven’t inflicted a little property damage” pg. 555 Ha 

“She’d avoided direct contact before” pg. 568  Like with the first wife from Blood Rites 

“But I won that little blue ribbon. I still have it back at home” pg. 570 aw :)

I feel like how their magic showed what their proficiency is. With Molly it’s mind/illusions with Harry it’s more external changes wind/fire physical 

“I had this problem where I gave a lot of lip to older kids. And teachers. And pretty much everyone else who tried to intimidate me, whether or not it was for my own good” pg. 570 Ha 

Why didn’t Molly talk to Harry when her magic turned up? He’s a friend of the family and an actual wizard who helps people

“But I thought maybe I could help her. With magic. Like you” pg. 573 Hooboy is right 

Molly please take responsibility for your actions 

“Her talent was not a modest one” pg. 575 Maybe I’m just not getting this but does this mean Molly has a lot of power or not a lot? 

I take it Harry is going to take Molly under his wing and him and Molly will be under the Doom. That would mean Harry has been under the Doom twice. Has that ever happened to any other wizard? 

Soul Gaze time 

Molly’s soul was interesting 

Charity isn’t going to like this chat 

“We just haven’t had one of them one in ten or twelve years” pg. 598 I assume the last trial was Harrys 

“You sound familiar with this situation.

I smiled a little. “Intimately.” pg. 601 Yep must have been scary for Harry

“Morgan got within about twenty feet of the Red King himself” pg. 607 cool

“So the Merlin holds them by default. And he doesn’t like me. He’d cast the vote to condemn her just to spite me” pg. 609 WHAT KIND OF KANGAROO COURT NONSENSE IS THIS?!? This can’t be legal, no wonder the council doesn’t have many people who keep killing potential wizards. When most of your jury is unavailable then you reschedule. Who decides if a person has gone too far? Does the accused have a lawyer? Will the trial be in a language that everyone knows? Why does Merlin get to cast votes for the others? The judge shouldn’t preside over the trial if there’s a conflict of interest. Molly is 17 and didn’t know the laws. This is a terrible system. This can’t possibly carry out justice. Why is there only two options: execution of prohibition with a death sentence hanging over their heads? Surely there can be other options. You’re telling me that in these hundreds of years wizards haven’t built a prison besides Deamonreach to hold  warlocks? Or use the anti magic handcuffs. 

“The Reds had to find a way to draw off some of our heavies and they found it. Luccio’s boot camp” pg. 607 The wardens have a boot camp?

“Some terrified corner of my brain had noted that so long as the hood was over my face, I wasn’t a person. I was only a creature, a statistic and one that was a potential threat at that. It would be far easier to pass and mete out a death sentence when one did not have to look at the face of the damned” pg. 612 Yep that’s why the hood is a bad idea. This doesn’t happen in an actual court of law

“If I fought the White Council’s justice” pg. 614 This isn’t justice 

Gatekeeper! Here to the rescue 

“He beckoned the Council secretary, a dried-up old spider of man named Peabody, and put his head together with the old man in a whispered conference” pg. 622 Why are Peabody and Merlin talking? Why do they need to talk? What does the scribe for the White Council need to talk to Merlin about? Peabody wasn’t part of the investigation. He didn’t look at the victims or soul gaze at Molly. Why is he talking to Merlin? To sway him to kill Molly? 

“He’d planned on undermining me with Latin from the moment he heard about the concave” pg. 616 I repeat this isn’t justice this is petty spiteful vengeance nothing more

“If it hasn’t faded into a blur of senility” pg. 624 Ha 

“But when it comes to the Council sitting self-righteous, arrogant judgment over a young wizard who made an honest mistake, I believe I have more experience than anyone in this room” pg. 626 Ha and yes Harry is the black sheep of the White Council 

“In the past three years the Council has tried and condemned more warlocks than in the past twenty. Children who are raised in societies that do not believe in magic suddenly inherit powers they could hardly imagined, and certainly cannot control. They have no support. No training. No one to warn them of the consequences or the dangers of their actions” pg. 626 Preach

“For Gods sake, wizards, if we are to survive this war, we need all the talent we can get” pg. 627 Yep 

“I’d beaten the Merlin. He knew it. 

And he hated it.” pg. 628 Suck it Merlin 

“My words slowed him, he froze in place for a terrible heartbeat” pg. 631 Interesting it seems that Harry got through to Morgan 

“Stand aside, Dresden. Please” pg. 631 Oh Morgan being polite to Harry 

Yay the rest of the Council has arrived 

“Michael came in” pg. 634 Yay! Michael to the rescue 

“If you’re right” I said, “you still get to kill the girl” 

“Merlin glanced at me. “True,” he said. “And you with her.” pg. 636 Why doesn’t Merlin like Harry or Molly? Surly he’s been in charge long enough that this isn’t the first time someone has beaten him. And surely Harry isn’t the first black sheep of the Council. Surly Harry isn’t he first to question or define his authority so why does Merlin not like Harry and Molly? Is he worried someone will try to challenge his rule and or try to and take his position as leader

“In short: I’d become a politician” pg. 638 Ha 

“I thought to myself, hey, it would be great time for one of the Knights of the Cross to show up, eh?” I shook my head “It didn’t work out that way” pg. 642 But Butters came does it matter if he’s not a knight yet he came 

Charity should tell Michael that she had magic

“She’s got real talent” pg. 643 So Molly dose have a great deal of power or talent 

“Greater love hath no man,” he said quietly. “Nothing I can say would enough. She’s my daughter, Harry. Thank you” pg. 643 aw :)

“Not the Merlin of the Council. Merlin. The original” pg. 645 So cool the similarities between the Merlin original and Harry

“Like they did with Shiro” pg. 646 aw :( 

“I certainly have no intention of an early retirement” pg. 646 Well you’ll get it whether you like it or not

Yes Harry talk to Michael 

Michael knew about Lasciel?!? You couldn’t have told Harry this sooner? 

“Walk away from your magic,” he said. “Forsake it. Forever”

“Fuck that” pg. 651 Yeah I would have a similar reaction. I don’t know what Michael was expecting. Harry’s life is magic he’s been training and using it for decades. It’s a part of him at this point. He loves magic. He’s a magic nerd.

“If that happens,” I told him, and my voice was a dry whisper, “I want you to” pg. 653 Real friends will kill each other if they go to the dark guy

“And hungry. No one has touched you in a very long time” pg. 660 Why do people keep commenting on Harry not having a sex it’s none of their business 

NOPE delete do not go there back up you two this will not happen

“But that stopped once I picked up the pitcher of ice water from the mantle and dumped it over her head” pg. 662 Ha 

“This isn’t going to happen” pg. 662  Good it shouldn’t ever happen 

Oh so Molly had a crush on Dresden 

“It’s trite but true that a lot of young women look for men who reminds them of their dad. Your dad fights monsters. I fight monsters. Your dad rescued your mom from a dragon. I rescued you from Arcrtus Tor. Seeing a the pattern here” pg. 664 Well that is a pattern 

“That you’re both stiffened necked idiots” pg. 673 Ha Thomas is such a Harry/Murphy shipper

“I’m proud of you, boy.” 

“Something inside of me melted” pg. 679 Aw my heart :) I think Harry needed to hear that

I love that Ebenezar vouched for Harry at his trial. I love that Harry and Ebenezar are rebuilding their relationship. I adore their relationship. It was a good ending :) 

Final thoughts 

I liked the fights. Now onto some of my issues with the White Council. Did they not know that a member of theirs Justin turned into a warlock when he enthralled Elaine and did they not notice that Justin sent a monster from outside reality. Did the White Council not know about Harry and Elaine as they don’t seem to know Elaine exists and Harry never mentions wearing an apprentice robe or going to their headquarters or boot camp. No one seemed to have stopped by to check in on Justin at any point during Harry’s apprenticeship. Are there no regulations or oversight when it comes to apprenticeship? This all just reminds me of bad homeschooling where the parents take the kids out of school to isolate them and abuse them. Continuing with the isolation, Harry's magic uses Latin. The White Council uses Latin surely if Justin actually cared he’d have advised against it. Justin could have encouraged Harry to have his spells in Latin as a way to make sure he wouldn’t be able to talk to the White Council if he escaped him. That could be why his Latin is so bad. Are we sure Justin didn’t just kidnap Harry? I’m going to need some paperwork as a young orphan in foster care is an easy target. Onto other parts of the book because we’ll be here all day if a rant about my issues with the White Council. We had 4 Bi Harry moments up to 26 on the counter. I didn’t like being right about Molly and magic. I still don’t really get why Molly didn’t go to Harry when she got magic but I’ve never had a teenage crush before so I can’t relate. The things between Harry and Molly better stay platonic. I’m mad Bob and Lasciel were right. I can’t wait to see the apprenticeship. Hopefully I’ll learn more about Harry’s own apprenticeship through how he teaches Molly. I didn’t like more implications about Harry and Bianca’s party. I thought the trial was a joke, it was truly terrible.  I’d like to add that the White Council’s methods might have worked in the before times when people believed in magic and there weren’t so many people. But now people don’t believe in magic. There’s 7.8 billion people alive and with the Masquerade and the secretly of the White Council this is going to keep happening. The Council needs to get with the times and change and progress. Or start over. Or something else comes along that’s better. They have to get the word out to kids with magic. Harry has the right idea being in the phone book. The White Council wrote books on magic so they’re not opposed to writing books. Have them write a “fiction” book about the signs and laws of so if any of the magic kids read it they’ll have a better idea. They shouldn’t be worried about the Masquerade or the muggles they don’t believe in magic. Or have apprentices or a low level practitioner set up a website. Because right now they’re losing kids to the dark side out of ignorance of magic and the Laws and as far as I can see they’re not helping. Onto the next book!

[bennydwight]

Saw the "Libby in Chairman's Robe" piece just now, and I wanna ask, how do you think Molly would look, and feel, in that robe?

Okay okay okay Koskela I’m so sorry but you opened the floodgates here.

I know the intention here was a cute picture of Molly playing dress up but for some reason I saw your ask and my mind exploded with enough red string to choke a conspiracy theorist and I have to get all this out somewhere, so buckle in folks because I’m about to jump to more conclusions than a paranoid frog and it’s going to get long

Molly and the Cloak

We begin with the previous Chairman. An intimidating looking dude, meant to serve as a direct opposite character-creation-wise to the ghosts immediately around him. He’s physically taller, built like an inverted triangle as a contrast to the characters he usually hangs out with

(Scratch is a rectangle don’t @ me)

But there’s one more interesting physical difference he has with every other ghost we’ve been introduced to:

Underneath the cloak, the Chairman is bone. In fact, the bone motif seems to be a large part of his design, since his facial area is shaped loosely like a skull.

Neither of which ghosts have.

And we know it isn’t a style transformation because when Scratch uses the cloak, he’s still the same underneath (no bones about it!)

And since skeletons haven’t been introduced to part of series canon (maybe they’re planning that for season three), we can only deduce that there was once a human under the hood. And it’s not a typical way for a human to exist in the Ghost World, since the default form is obviously ectoplasmic and not skeletal. So what might’ve caused the Chairman to differ so greatly from his peers?

(This is where the red string comes out.)

Before we dive into the next point, let’s take a look at some of the other traits of the Chairman for the purposes of this headcanon/theory/alternate universe/whatever:

He never speaks

He rarely moves, only in stiff, disjointed jerks

He gains power and sustenance from misery

We’ll get to that last one later, but for now let’s focus on the first two. We’ve seen these symptoms in another concept already introduced to us: possession. (Speaking less so than moving, but we do know there's at least a tonal difference.) So if the human that was once the Chairman is dead, why isn’t the ghost under the robe? What happened to it? The thing that makes it tick, the soul, the free will, is gone, leaving only the physical body behind. You could argue, sure, that the human died, the ghost went on to have fun ghosty adventures, and its body was left behind for something else to pick it up (but why bother if everyone’s a ghost anyway?)

Well, the thing that picked it up wasn’t a ghost.

The Chairman is the Cloak possessing a human corpse.

This explains a few things: it doesn’t talk because its got no voice (either meat or spectral), it keeps movement to a minimum to avoid suspicion, the body provides a shape to fill it out (hence why the Chairman has more human proportions), and solidity could also act as a form of armour.

(My theory here on why it had to be a corpse it couldn’t just be a ghost is that, from what we’ve seen, we can assume that ghosts can’t possess other ghosts. Otherwise nothing would get done. It’s likely the Cloak needs a physical vessel because trying to push a spirit out of a body without the body probably won’t work too well.)

But why go through all the rigamarole of possessing a skeleton and instigating yourself as the head of a ghost society? Why the secrecy? Now we get to point three: misery. The Cloak needs to feed off misery, and a bunch of angry, bitter people with lifetimes of grudges is probably a pretty great meal. Access to so much misery ensures its growth and survival. It’s a parasite. One with rudimentary forms of free will too, as we’ve seen the Chairman making decisions of its own accord.

As an intelligent parasite with the potential for an eternity of sustenance at your fingertips, the only smart thing to do would be ensure you kept the misery-generators under your control and were in the position to manipulate your surroundings to prioritize your continued survival (why scaring is mandatory, closely monitored, and punished if insufficient). Thus, the Chairman rises to power.

The deal was probably pretty good until the season finale. With the misery engine that was the Flow of Failed Phantoms gone, and the final hit depleting the last of the misery-born power the Cloak held, it lost control of its vessel, now so old that the bones basically liquified instantly. Weak and desperate to cling to life (as parasites are), it fell dormant as a defense mechanism.

Another thing to consider: in the season two premiere, we’re told that the person who vanquishes the Chairman becomes the next one and inherits the Cloak (makes sense, a position of ultimate power is probably pretty good for the parasite to remain in). We don’t know if its been a ghost before (we don’t know how long the previous body lasted), but the next leader is… Scratch. Someone wholly uninterested in power or misery of any kind, and unable to be controlled since he can’t be possessed.

Not a great day for the Cloak, I bet.

Any other parasite would pack their bags, not a whole lot of surviving happening if the new Chairman decrees scaring isn’t necessary anymore. But the Cloak sits quiet and plays nice. Why? Because of a simple little detail that’s bothered me ever since season two episode one dropped.

Scratch didn’t kill the old Chairman.

Molly did.

Young, human, easily controlled if it can just get close enough, the Cloak won’t bother settling for second best when the grand prize sleeps four feet away from its current host, not when its existence is on the line. Its still weak from the massive blow of joy Molly dealt, but it can feed off background misery and regain strength until Molly asks to play dress up one day, or Scratch leaves it laying around unsupervised, and then it’s an easy job of quashing one tiny soul and regaining power.

Its had an afterlifetime of practice, after all.

[thecheeselord75]

I don't like media with super powered people with little to no explantation. For example the X-men X gene makes no sense to me. Super humans in my world have a gland in their bodies that produce a substance called potentia. As the name suggests, its unlimited potential. The substance has the potential to be anything, but without a person to direct is just a glowing purple liquid. Super humans have a gene that stores their power, upon contact with potentia, someone with this gene will have their power activate. The glands are normally in the arm and lead out of tubes to a small slit in the hand. This means most supers shoot powers out of their hands. You occasionally get other spots like in the skull for something like laser eyes for example. You can also get the tubes going through your entire body, which is how powers like Ollie's and Molly's work. The gland itself is mostly dormant until puberty can be activated if the hosts life is in danger. This substance has been harnessed by people in the modern day, being used to create tech such as laser guns. You just load a cartridge of potentia and you have a small skin sample from a super with laser powers in the barrel. Why do some people just casually have these glands? Well thats because {SPOILERS}

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/infiniteko/742131312246276096/you-have-no-advice-or-pointers-well-thanks-for?source=share Koda, you are way too patient and lenient with these anons. I admire that, but at the same time SOMEONE really deserves to be properly pinched as a reality check.

Dear anon, check your attitude because the whiny baby who wants to be handheld and molly-coddled act combined with passive aggressive whininess are not gonna take you far. You are just one of hundreds; you think your case is special? It is not. No one is going to do the thinking for you. If you really want "self-realisation", then go for it instead of harassing bloggers who HAVE SHARED ALL THEIR KNOWLEDGE ALREADY, extensively and over and over again so it finally gets through even the thickest of skulls. If you can't be arsed to ponder on your own and are hoping to have a magical solution spoonfed to you, then it's a you issue.

FYI the illusory problem you described has been covered in chapter 3 of Non-Dualism for Dummies so I see you haven't even gone outside the basics.

Every of those evil and gatekeeping ND bloggers you talk about has once been a "desperate normie", otherwise they wouldn't have been looking for a way out. And no wonder they get snappy and sardonic when they receive the same question 10s of times from people who haven't even gone through their posts 😍

😭

Thank you!

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

So how about that last chapter, huh? Still reeling?

WELL, HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE NEXT ONE, which is proceeding well on schedule to be dropped next Friday.

In this scene, the Nein return to Vasselheim to seek out information about their enemies and enlist some old allies. In case you haven't realized that this arc serves as a bookend to the very first arc yet.

-

Months had gone by since the Nein first walked through the grid of houses set against the backdrop of the Vesper Timberlands. There was no Cobalt Soul monk or supervised criminal to guide them this time, but the only thing that had changed was the season and Caleb remembered the way to the house with the dragon skull in the front yard.

Beau, recalling how hard it had been for the man's own daughter to get him to answer the door, started out big and loud with her knocks, but the person who answered after only three was not the cleric, but a red-skinned tiefling woman with dark horns that curved back from her forehead like a crown and silver eyes, dressed in a black silk robe.

It revealed one fundamental fact to Caleb- Tasya Hydris looked like her mother.

”It's awfully late for knocking like that,“ she drawled.

Bright and early in Bazzoxan translated to 'too late for visitors' in Vasselheim, but the Nein had been so determined that no one had thought to consider the time difference. Caleb was aware of it- of course- but it hadn't seemed important and remained that way even now.

”We're sorry to disturb you, but my friend here is a co-worker of your daughter- of sorts- and-“

The woman looked at Beau's garb that did everything in its power to say 'I am not a member of the Cobalt Soul' with a raised eyebrow that cut Caleb off at the pass, and Beau quickly produced her Expositor's badge from a secret pocket inside of her coat. ”Your, um… Husband? Did us a favor. We need to talk to him again.“

Her eyes lit up. ”Oh! You're the ones with the horrible flesh city.“

”So much for knowing us by our cool titles,” Veth sighed, drearily. “We're the flesh city people.”

“Come in. I'll get Kash up. He's going to be grumpy, but I have to admit we both found the entire thing worrying with how little the Soul seems to know about any of this.“ She stepped out of the doorway and continued speaking over her shoulder. ”The Vault prides itself in keeping as many records from Pre-Calamity as possible, but there's next to nothing on this Cognouza.“

”I'll have a full report to file for them, eventually,“ Beau said, puffing herself up, only to immediately deflate again, as if it was too cruel of her to take pride in a potential victory so minuscule while Molly and Yasha were suffering.

They made themselves at home in the overwhelmingly kitschy and cluttered living room again while the lady of the house- who introduced herself as Zahra- busied herself with the unpleasant task of rousing her husband. Moments later, the man in question, hair unbound, mismatched eyes lined in dark circles, and holding a mug of coffee was glowering at them from the doorway.

”I was hoping I'd never have to see you again.“ He looked to Zahra. ”You can't do things like this. It’s like feeding strays- they'll just keep coming around. Haven't you learned anything from Allura and Kima?”

“I've learned that Allura and sometimes Kima like helping the younger generation, darling.” Zahra flicked some of his hair out of his face with a long, well-manicured talon. “But if they didn't come here themselves, I was considering having Tasya get in contact with them, so this is kismet. It saves you being grumpy at me.”

Kash made a gruff noise and then kicked Veth out of what was most definitely his chair so he could sit down. Fjord didn't even wait for him to get comfortable before voicing a concern all of them were nursing.

”Sorry. You said that this has been troubling you since we left you? Badly enough you almost called us back?“

Lucien leaned forward, scanning every bit of visible skin on Kash's body- searching for eyes supplied a helpful little voice in the back of Caleb's mind. He must not have found any, judging by how he leaned back in disinterest almost immediately after.

An urge tapped Caleb on the shoulder and the copper pieces in his pockets felt as if they were made of lead, begging to be acknowledged. You know what you could do.

Detect Thoughts had been written into the grimoire infinitus when it awakened at his touch. He’d stared at that spell for so long, aching to use it and knowing what a slippery slope it was. It was Trent’s favorite spell, one used with impunity to the point of it being one of his signatures. Despite knowing how much easier it would have made his life, he never took the opportunity to learn it and now it was easily accessed, burned into his brain from the moment he read it. Keen minds have their disadvantages.

He saw Jester shift and watched her twist her ring enchanted with that same spell, free of baggage and any desires beyond curiosity, and relaxed a bit at having the desire taken out of his hands for the time being.

”Sometimes you look into something you shouldn't've seen and it looks back, it stays with you. Z and I are well-versed in that kind of shit. I've dreamt of that place every other night since I saw it.“ As Kash spoke, Caleb looked to Jester to gauge her reaction and found her only staring at the man with a look of deepest sorrow.

”Did anyone speak to you?“ Cree asked, unaware of what Jester was doing or in what way Caleb was taking cues from her.

”Nope.” Kash popped the 'p' on the end and sipped at his coffee. “I'd just see it, floating there, and it would get worse every time I looked at it, like an infected wound that just keeps rotting.”

The image of Cognouza wreathed in black chains and bleeding ichor from Vokodo's dying moments flashed into Caleb's head. The collective tension of the entire group said he wasn't the only one so plagued. No spell needed for that one. “And what did you make of it?”

“A nuisance mostly. I nearly broke a vow and contacted someone to ask about it, but Z talked me out of it.”

“Someone?” Veth prodded. “Like who? Your god?”

Come to think of it, they never did figure out what god Kash worshiped. It was usually one of the first questions he, in particular, asked of a cleric out of a habit he’d never shaken.

Zahra smiled with too-sharp teeth, proving that inviting that question now would ruin her sense of hospitality. “We don't talk about her.“

So definitely his god, whatever she may be. Jester, Caduceus, and Cree exchanged looks- clearly stricken by the idea that a cleric could be completely out of contact with their deity like that. It would have been worth prodding at on any other day, but not this one. Not when they needed Kash's cooperation more than they needed to test how much Jester could annoy him and still make him like them enough to want to commit to their cause.

Besides Jester had more context thanks to her ring and that fact alone had her biting her tongue now to avoid blurting out secrets and ruining everything.

”I will be frank, then,“ Caleb said, voice stern, eager to derail Jester’s need for impulsive action with forward motion. “Two of our friends were taken by a cult whose primary ambition at this stage is to bring that city back to this plane. One of them is possessed by the beings who control that city. We have no idea what that means for him yet, but we do know what it means for Exandria.”

Lucien slid in and surprised Kash with everything from how he spoke to the way he leaned forwards down to the look in his eyes that said he did know better than anyone what he was talking about, rather than simply behaving like he did- everything that said he very much wasn’t Molly. “What you saw is a cancer that will consume everything until we are all nothing but minds in a hive controlled by the most mad wizards from an age of mad wizards.”

“And we know what all of this means for the Soul right this second,” Beau joined in before Kash could ask the obvious question- who the fuck is he, which no one had any time or desire to answer now even in simple terms. “To bring the city back, they need the threshold crests. Now I don't know what High Curator Kerthis did with the ones I gave her in the end, but the last memory Molly has of them is bringing them here and that cult is here now, probably looking for them.”

The implications didn't need to be spoken- their daughter and her entire organization was in immediate danger. In warning them of what could happen, they had given them the opportunity to do something about it before it became untenable as if in penance for their part in bringing it to their doorstep.

Kash wasn't grateful and clearly would have preferred to have been left out of it at all, but he had helped them once and by and large this was merely finishing off what had been started and left to hang. The look in his eyes said very clearly that 'no' wasn't on the table, but he was running through a dozen caveats before he agreed.

“What's your plan here?” He finally asked. “You want your buddies back first, yeah? Cool. How are you gonna do it?”

The silence spoke volumes. Kash handed his coffee to Zahra, perched on the armrest of his chair, so she could put it on the end table for him. The entire motion was so fluid and required neither of them to look away from them that it must have been a dance practiced many times in front of their children.

“I don't get involved in shit without a plan in place. You want our help? Do your godsdamned research, figure out how to approach these people, because what you're telling me without saying fuck-all is you got your shit rocked and now you want payback right now. That kind of thinking gets people killed.”

“We planned on stopping by the Vault too,” Beau grimaced, tightly. “We just wanted you two to be aware of the situation as it stands.“

”Consider us aware.“

Zahra laid a hand on her husband's knee in a gesture that soothed the ravages of his barely controlled temper. ”We do appreciate it and we want to help you, but we're not as young as we used to be and…“ She smiled warmly. ”We've seen what becomes of adventuring parties who don't think things through before they act. They might survive, but there is usually a cost.”

And we have already paid too much. Kashaw wasn't wrong even if it wasn't what the Nein wanted to hear. It would be unreasonable to assume a practical stranger would leap out of bed, determined to go and meet their enemies in the woods right this second just because he had helped them once.

If anything, he might have spared them all some grief by being logical, rather than a man of immediate, dramatic action.

“They keep weird hours at the Vault,” Kash said. “Get to it. 'Cause even if we throw our hands into this mess, this is all on you. As of right now, you're the only fucking experts on something that could destroy Exandria and the only people equipped to deal with it because of that. You need to be sharp and you need to be ready.“

All facts they all knew full well, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still made Caleb wince. The gods themselves could not have made it plainer and they were certainly trying to.

This was their fight, no matter who they asked to back them up at the gates of Hell, and if they failed, there would be nothing left to grieve how foolish a decision it was to place all of this on a group of fuck-ups from Wildemount.

So we won't fail.

He looked to Beau who gave him a tight, pained nod, a reminder of their vow from last night. Whatever it takes.

Sometimes what it took had nothing to do with blood and rage and everything to do with patience and careful planning.

Sometimes you had to grit your teeth and wait.

[spuddlespud]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks to my lovely friends for the tags, sorry it's taken me a couple of weeks to get round to it. There's a couple of these from bits of writing that never went anywhere so I wanted to share bigger chunks.

@untethereddreams - Light, Rain, Rich, Grime, and Stack

@winterandwords - talk, wait, remember, and something.

@ahordeofwasps- guide, lied, sighed, pride, and collide!

I'm tagging: @littlepatchofhell @inkspellangel @eccaiia @talesofsorrowandofruin @aohendo @lady-grace-pens @writingamongther0ses @primroseprime2019 @azriel-alexander-holmes @bardic-tales @sapphsoon @gloriafrimpong

Your words should you choose to accept them are: tree, mirror, footstep, hand, hair

LIGHT - ???

Everything suddenly went black. The sirens screamed in response, repeating their competing jingles to each other in an endless cycle. Fantastic. A power cut. She stumbled over to the dresser, tearing through and tossing things on the floor until she found it. The light came on after a few turns of the handle and she descended the stairs feeling like Florence Nightingale.

RAIN - a Workers Guide to Demonology

The bus stop itself is nothing remarkable. It smells faintly of piss, but thats just humanity for you. A group of dour faced people stand silently staring at their phones. One of them swears when a drip of mossy rainwater falls on their head from a crack in the bus shelter roof.

RICH - ???

Scowl deepening, she tugged angrily at her cuffs, trying several times to slide the sodden discoloured sleeves up her arms, eventually giving up and rolling them. "And what do you think you're laughing at." She yelled up a the mocking figure. "Trust me, if you could see your face right now, you'd be laughing too." This was followed by even more laughter which devolved into snorts. Molly definitely wasn't a delicate giggler.

Having successfully rolled up her sleeves, Beth began to scale the hill, pulling on tree roots with a grunt. "That's pretty rich coming from someone who starts snorting like a pig every time she finds something vaguely amusing." "I am pretty rich, I've got you visiting every day haven't I?" Beth finally made the last few feet up and over the ridge of the hill. Despite her breath catching in her throat from the beauty of the woman in front of her (and also from scaling a massive fuck off hill), she still managed to paste an unimpressed look on her face. "That is the biggest load of tripe I've ever heard!" Of course this earned nothing but another undaunted giggle. The woman moved closer. She was an inch or two taller than Beth (not something she ever let Beth forget). Her simple green dress was covered in a multitude of different stains, each one Beth well knew was related to some kind of mishap with one or other of Molly's potions. 

GRIME - none

STACK - Dragonsbreath and Skelefellas

"Fine, I'll go get it from the back." She looked over to where Andrew was poking his skull head from behind a stack of haunted books. "And behave, you!"

TALK - The Bite

She took a big swig of bitter coffee, letting it out half a sigh at Charlie’s next words “I was bitten by a werewolf.”

Of course werewolves were the next step. It was only a matter of time. “It’s too early in the morning for this Charlie, can we talk about it this evening once I’ve got a pint in me?”

WAIT - Old Inn Door

The bullet barely grazed her skin as she'd carefully aimed at the closest brute. His fellow soldier just looked confused as she carefully positioned herself so that he followed his friend in a pile on the floor., her bonds loosening with every shot. Not waiting for his body to hit the floor, she rushed to the door, clumsily using her shoulder to shut the bolt behind the door, even as angry footsteps sounded in the hallway.

REMEMBER - A Workers Guide to Demonology

Outfits have changes much since I was last on this wretched rock. All three are dressed similarly enough to make it clear that that is the current fashion. Their black pointy hats are tall, and I have no idea what purpose they would serve. Their dresses are much shorter than I remember them being.

SOMETHING - ??? (I'm sharing a big section because it's something that never became something and I think it's cute)

This floor wasn't going to get the best of her. She'd decided that as soon as she'd slammed the bucket down and seen the wave of soapy mess slop onto the floot. The burning smell of lime was already starting to make her feel dizzy and every scrape of the brush against the floor sent a pain shooting down her raw rubbed knuckles. A thick layer of sweat was building up under the coarse material that covered her back. But this floor wasn't going to get the best of her.

She dropped the brush for a second, sitting back into kneeling position. She tried to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face with the back of her hand, sighing when it determinedly bounced right back into it's previous position.

"Here, watch out" a gruff voice said as a hand reached down to pull the strand of hair back and tuck it behind her ear, just below where her cap sat.

She smiled up at the figure standing above her, the gentle touch of calloused fingers against her cheek sending a giddy thrill through her. In other circumstances the looming figure could have been interpreted as intimidating, but Meredith had come to know that slightly lopsided smile well over the last two years she'd been in this house. She'd never seen those large hands raised in anger, neither had she heard that gruff voice raised above a speaking level. Jack was undoubtedly the softest soul Meredith had ever known.

Jack smiled back, a shy smile but gentle none the less.

Meredith stood up, intending to say something clever and inspiring like "How's your day?"

Unfortunately she never got to finish the question as in the process of getting up she stepped on a particularly soapy patch of floor, sending her foot slipping back from under her, her back slamming into the ground in the process, knocking over the brimming bucket of limewater.

Jack had instinctively reached out to grab her as her tumultuous decent had begun, and had leaned over fast enough for the falling bucket to knock her off her feet and tumbling down after Meredith. Landing in a heap. Jack's large frame gained an "oof" from Meredith as she practically fell on top of her. GUIDE - The Familiarity Between the Owl and the Pussycat

"...and then I saved that ungrateful runt, at great personal risk. And you know how he thanks me? Instead of coming back here to stay safe, he's back out playing at hunting. Are you even listening to me?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Séamus" Bathsheba sighed "You know what Midnight's like, you're the much older, and obviously much wiser and much cleverer one. It's upto you to guide him."

The response from Séamus could almost be described as a snort, but she new she'd managed to placate him a little.

LIE - A Worker's Guide to Demonology

Except that as I'm drifiting off one of the stupid humans decides it's the perfect time to start pounding on the bedroom door. "Ellie! Ellie! You need to get up. You're late for work."

Knowing how stupid mortals are I decide on mubling a minimal effort lie. "It's okay, I have the day off."

Ha! Got her. Easy as pie, whatever that means. Time once more for sleep, glorious sleep.

"You don't have the day off. You told me you had to train the new staff member this week."

SIGHED - ??? (I think I've posted this one before)

Belle fake sighed, finishing the last bite of her biscuit. "Fine, what can it hurt. But we've got to have all the protective measures in place before there's any funny business. I'm not having a repeat of the time we summoned the banshee."

PRIDE - Dragonbreath and Skelefellas

It was always nice to see Skully without their official skull  make up on. There was a red tinge to their cheek from rushing down the  tower stairs and their hair was practically standing on end, proving  that whatever they had been working on had distracted them from any  hairbrushing since they woke up. Damn did they look good though.

Trying  to maintain the annoyance on her face, after all she did have some  pride, Saph pointedly rearranged her now diminished workspace on the  table so that they were’t in any danger of more knives falling off.

Skully  slammed their hands down on top of their immense pile of books.  “Saphire. My darling. The light of my life. You love me, more than  anything right?”

This couldn’t be good. Saph sighed, mentally  waving goodbye to her dream of spending the afternoon training and  having tea with Andrew.

COLLIDE - nothing