#oh and the night man cometh

[saunter-vaguely-into-the-shadows]

@makesnonoise

in the tags: what are yalls comfort iasip episodes?

[alovesongtheywrote]

i NEED another nightmare academia part pleassseeeee *grabby hands*

♥ Summary: well... here it is! in this chapter of nightmare academia, things go south. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: self doubt, angst, mentions of maeve. in other words, things were too happy and they're about to get sad

♥ A/N: plotman cometh

♥ Word Count: 2136

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Spencer didn’t sleep that night.  He’d left late, waiting for the red and blue lights of the police cruiser to leave before he let himself go home.  The train ride back was hazy at best.  He couldn’t focus on his surroundings, on the fuzzy announcements from the Metro intercom overhead, or the people around him.

The only thing on his mind was you.  The warmth of your smile, the feeling of your hand in his, the way you said his name- “It’s basic decency, Spencer.”  Maybe that was a pathetic thing to focus on, but it wasn’t like he had a choice.  His mind played the memory over and over again in perfect clarity.  He could still feel the buzz that had washed over him when you said his name for the first time- and he could still feel the agony he felt when he realized he’d made you cry.  

He had a lot of thoughts to think about you- and the more he explored them, the deeper he dove into the recesses of his mind, the more unsettled he became.  He hadn’t felt this way in a while.  The last time he did, the object of those feelings was brutally murdered in front of him- and he never got to say a proper goodbye.  His guilt consumed him almost as much as his affection for you.

So, yeah.  Lots to think about.  Sleep was a worthy sacrifice.

The following morning, he dragged himself to his office, limbs heavy with exhaustion and eyes sore from unshed tears.  He thought he might buy some time for himself.  He thought he might be able to steal a quick nap before his first class of the day.

He was wrong.

“Hey pretty Ricky, long time no see.”

Spencer flung his phone at Morgan on pure instinct.  Morgan caught it with no issue, raising an eyebrow as Spencer doubled over, painting.

“You didn’t tell me you could throw like that.  Is everything okay, Reid?”

“Yeah, no, it’s- it’s fine.  You just surprised me.”

“You don’t usually throw your phone when you’re surprised.  What’s up, kid?”

“Nothing!  It’s nothing.  I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” Spencer rubbed at his temples, “So, what are you doing here?  You aren’t looking to register for classes, are you?”

“No,” Morgan set Spencer’s phone down on the desk, “There’s a case near here, the team came in to investigate.  I decided to check in on you, see how you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m doing fine, thanks.  I appreciate you checking in.”

“Are you fine, though?  Really?”

“Morgan, I told you I’m-”

The door slammed open.  Spencer jumped again, bringing a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart.  It was you.  It was only you.

“Hey, Reid, I need you to look at this thing one of my kids wrote, because I can’t understand it, even with the English degree-” you stopped, suddenly realizing you were interrupting a conversation.

“Oh,” you tapped the door a few times, your wide eyes darting between Spencer and Morgan, “Hi.”

A sense of dread draped over Spencer like the world’s worst weighted blanket.  His heart was still beating a million miles a minute.  He tried to keep the smile off of his face, tried to keep his skin from warming a few degrees.  He could feel the physiological signs of affection and he denied them.  He refused, willing himself to feel contempt at the sight of your face.  He failed.

Morgan, on the other hand, felt no conflict.  The man was very clearly delighted.  A massive grin crossed his face as he held out a large hand for you to shake.

“You must be Dr. (L/N).  We spoke on the phone- but Spencer didn’t tell the team that you’re so gorgeous.”

“He wouldn't,” you grinned, clutching your papers to your chest as you reached to shake Morgan’s hand, “We aren’t really friends- we’re more like angry acquaintances.”  

The agent laughed, a warm and inviting sound that put any unease you had to rest.  Spencer could not say the same.  He bit down on his tongue until it stung.  He wasn’t sure if he was hurt that you didn’t see him as a friend, or if he was relieved.

“What did you want to show me, Dr. (L/N)?”

You paused for a fraction of a second at your formal title.  You hadn’t expected to hear it coming from Spencer.  Jumping back into motion, you passed the stack of paper to him.

“It’s circled in red, you can’t miss it.”

Indeed, the confounding sentence was, very much, circled in red- and it was very much indecipherable.  Spencer genuinely couldn’t tell what the fuck that sentence was supposed to mean.  For a moment, all the worries evaporated from his brain as he set out to solve the literary puzzle before him.

Meanwhile, you and Morgan continued your discussion- and with Spencer distracted, you were pretty much unsupervised.

“So, what’s Reid like as a professor?  Does he still go on those tangents?”

“From what I’ve heard, he’s excellent.  The tangents manage to keep his students involved with the material- however, there is that whole technophobe thing.”

“I heard you had a specific problem with that.”

“Oh, yeah.  I sent a typewriter to his class every day until he yelled at me.”

“I didn’t yell at you,” Spencer didn’t look up from the paper in front of him, “I pranked you back and you yelled at me.”

You shrugged, “Same thing.”

Morgan fucking beamed.  He’d been in the same room as you for two seconds and already, you were an absolute delight.  He had so much to tell Garcia when he got back to the rest of the team- but why simply tell Garcia about you when he could introduce you?

“Y’know, the team is meeting up for drinks tonight.  You can join us if you’d like- I know everyone else is desperate to meet the professor who’s been driving Reid up the wall.”

“Oh, a chance to embarrass my angry-acquaintance in front of his friends and former coworkers?  Sign me the fuck up!  Just give me a time and place and I’m there.”

Spencer looked up, having finished with the paper in front of him.  The smile on your face- the way you smiled at Morgan made him burn up inside.  He slammed the paper down in front of you harder than he intended to.

“They’re talking about criteria seventeen.”

“Seventeen?  How did they get there, they were just talking about criteria fourteen?”

“I don’t know, they’re your student.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in confusion.  You were adorable.  Spencer couldn’t allow himself to think you were adorable- he also couldn’t allow you to be upset with him.

“Email them about it.  Get in contact and let them know their analysis is confusing.”

“Aw, look at you.  You’re suggesting I send an email,” you reached over, giving his arm a squeeze, “I call that growth.”

Spencer was sure you could feel his heartbeat through his arm- and if you couldn’t, then you could definitely see the blush on his face.  For the second time in two days, he wanted to hurl himself out the window.

You let go of his arm.  You hadn’t held onto him long, but Spencer’s mind had pulled that moment into a million smaller moments.  He watched as you extended a hand to Morgan, a charming smile on your face, “It was nice to meet you in person!  Let me know when you’re planning to get those drinks.”

“Will do.  You have a good morning!”

“You too!” you called out as you slipped out the door and into the hallway, “I’ll see you both later!”

The room fell silent.  The air seemed to crackle with electricity, with a thousand static things that went unsaid.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Spencer refused to look at his friend, instead pulling a random book from one of his shelves to distract himself.  He almost threw it across the room when he realized it was The Narrative of John Smith.

“That little arm grab.  What was that?  I don’t know if you know, Reid, but that’s not something enemies do.  Are you sure Dr. (L/N) hates your guts?”

“It doesn’t matter if they hate my guts.  I hate theirs.”

“Don’t bullshit me, man.  If you hate them so much, you wouldn’t help them with their work the way you did.”

Spencer was trapped.  Morgan had him dead to rights.  He paused, thumbing through the pages of the book in his hands.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

Morgan beamed once again- he was having an excellent morning, “I knew it.  You have a lil’ thing for Dr. (L/N).”

“I don’t have a thing.  I don’t have anything.  What I have is a complicated series of emotions that I’m currently sorting through, and I don’t need anyone sorting through my emotions with me.”

Morgan raised his hands in surrender, “Okay.  Whatever you say, pretty boy, as long as you show up to get drinks with the rest of us.”

Spencer just nodded.  Morgan stared at him for another second.  He was gone by the time Reid looked up from his book.

-

By the time you got back to your office, you were ready to tear your hair out.  You were stupid.  Big stupid.  Mega stupid.

For one thing, you should have recognized that your student was jumping from criteria fourteen to seventeen.  You weren’t sure why they did it, but you were familiar enough with the diagnostic criteria you’d assigned to know which criteria aligned with which descriptive words.

For another- why the fuck had you said yes to drinks with Spencer’s friends?  Yes, you wanted to go.  Morgan was absolutely lovely, and Penelope Garcia was a bundle of coolness topped with a flower-themed hairpin, but really, what were you going to talk about with a group of FBI agents?  What were you going to talk about with a group of Spencer’s friends?

And god, you should have asked Spencer if he wanted you there.  True, if he didn’t, it would cause emotional torment worthy of your best pranks, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to torment him anymore.

You knew what you felt when he looked at you- you were familiar with the buzzing in your stomach and the pounding of your heart.  You knew the physiological signs of affection and you couldn’t deny them.  You would try to outrun them for as long as you could, but fuck, you were bad at running.  Sooner or later, you knew you would find yourself falling for Spencer Reid.

You could see yourself doing it- god, it wouldn’t be difficult to do.  He was beautiful and smart, and when he wasn’t forcing his students to handwrite their notes, he could be so kind.  He was brilliant, and competent, and when you remembered the way he stood up for you the night before you could feel your body burn beneath your skin. 

And that SUCKED.  For one thing, he was so much smarter than you- so much better.  He would never see you as anything more than a peer.  Even if he did, he would just be another thing that happened at you.  You had done nothing to earn his respect, nothing to change the way he felt.  If he felt anything for you, it would be a mistake on his part.  You already counted everything you felt for him as a mistake.

He was once part of a system that stood for most of the things you hated.  No matter what he said, you were still pretty sure he had faith in it.  You were fucked.

Just as you were about to curl up in a tiny ball on your office chair and scream into your arms, your phone buzzed.  It was Morgan- he must have saved your number the first time you called him.  A time and place were listed side by side, along with a friendly, “Hope you can make it :D”

A tiny smile slipped across your lips, but it very quickly fell.  You found Spencer’s number in your phone.  You typed out six or seven different messages before you landed on one.

Y/N: are you okay with me getting drinks with your team?

You could see Spencer typing.  And typing.  And typing.

Spencer: it’s fine.  should be fun.

You weren’t sure if he actually meant that or if he was being a bitch.  Texting is hard- and god, you felt like a high schooler doing it.  With a last look at Morgan’s message, the time and place for drinks, you gathered your things and got ready to be a functioning adult for the next few hours.

Honestly?  You were pretty good at pretending.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts

[talonabraxas]

Khonsu 🌕 Talon Abraxas Khonsu is one of the most ancient Egyptian Gods of the Moon. His name means traveler reflecting the fact that the Moon travels across the night sky. Khonsu is also known as the Embracer, Pathfinder, and Defender, as he would watch over those who travel at night. On the night of the full moon, pray to Khonsu: A Hymn to Khonsu Hail unto thee, O Messenger of the Gods! Khonsu, the traveler of the night sky, Who traveleth through the heaven like Thoth. Mut-Bast is thy mother And Amen-Ra-Temu-Kephra is thy father, Thou makest women fruitful, And makest the human germ to grow in thy mothers womb. Thou art the Moon, the light -bearer, The moon by night, and the lord of Ma’at. Thou art great and mighty oh Moon God, Khonsu, messenger of the Great Gods, Traveler of the night sky in the form of the Moon. Thou art a child in the morning, an old man in the evening, a youth in the beginning of the year who cometh as a child after he becometh infirm, who reneweth his births like the disk. Thou art the Great God, the Lord of Heaven, Lord of Gods, Khonsu-Nefer-Hetep-Tehuti, Lord of Annu, Lord of rest, Chief Mabi, Peace, peace, O Gracious One, Who art peace, and who love peace. Thou art the Great God, Khonsu, the Mighty, who cometh forth from Nut. Thou art the sun at sunrise and the moon. Thou art Khonsu the chronographer, who holdest the stylus in thy right hand. Thou art Khonsu-Nefer-Hetep who hast absolute power over all evil spirits which infest the earth, air, sea, and sky. Protect us from pain, sickness, and disease. Protect us from decay, madness, and death. We invoke thee. Show us thy Wisdom. Thou makest the plants to grow and the fruit to ripen, and animals to conceive. Thou whom the Gods adore. Thou art the God of love whom men and women adore. Thou art Healer and Powerful in Magic! Protect us! Accept our offerings, O Great Moon -God Khonsu, who lives forever.

[mane--attraction]

of COURSE i want a big sopping wet man coming after me

Oh? Well then…

~~~

You're not sure how Murdock managed to invite himself on your vacation…again. This time, at least, you got a few days to yourself before he pulled up to the house you rented for the week and made himself at home. It's actually a bit embarrassing how easily he can get you to let him stay without you realizing it until it's technically too late. And by that point, you don't want to tell him to leave.

You're not sure what the reason was for you coming out here anymore: was it your job? Or his intensity? Either way, you're stressed, and you needed this. Hence why him staying for the remainder of your time was more than a bit annoying. And for that, he needs consequences, but what, exactly? It's not like you can enact revenge on a man who can very much retaliate and have you at his mercy ten times easier than you could ever do to him. Not that the retaliation would be bad, absolutely not, but you're not looking to be pinned down straight away. So for that, you need a good idea. Or at least, a decent enough one.

You find yourself wandering to the pool out back, an in-ground one, surrounded by bushes and a tall fence. You don't have any pool so easily accessible at home, so it's been a nice luxury. Some leaf litter has gathered on the surface of the water, and you locate the pool skimmer to collect them without getting your hands wet. If you don’t, there’s a chance it could build up and fall to the floor of the pool.

Your mind starts to wander, then, thinking about what else could potentially get into a pool: debris, animals… As you go to fling the leaves from the net into the bushes, you spot a towel that you forgot to put back last night after you spent most of the evening trying to ignore Murdock by swimming in the pool. He made that rather difficult for you. (He always does.) Hence, it’s hard to think about such trivial things as “towels.” It’s a dark color, which could easily be mistaken for an animal of some sort even in daylight, if you look too quickly.

That’s when your idea forms. What if there was an animal in the pool? What if you got him to investigate? And then when he gets to the pool… Glancing back at the house, you bring the towel to the deep end, skimmer net in your other hand. You set down the net, then bundle up the fabric and press it into the water, letting it get soaked before using the handle of the net to push it down. It’s not actually long enough, but you still manage to watch the towel sink to the bottom. You replace the net in its home and dry your hands on the sides of your shorts.

Frankly, you didn’t consider what you were actually going to say. You wish you could admit that you thought this through a bit more, but the idea is just too amusing. Making sure to put as much concern into your voice as you can, you call out, “Hey Murdock? Can you come here?” There's a good thirty seconds of silence, and while he's surely already on his way, you call again, “I think there's something in the pool.”

“I'm coming,” Murdock grunts, rounding the corner in a sleeveless mock turtleneck and his usual black jeans: the perfect clothing for your plan (and for you to check him out, but that's a given and beside the point). “You said there's something in the pool?”

You nod. “I didn't investigate yet. I didn’t want to get too close and have it bite me or something.”

He tries looking in the shallow end. “I don’t see anything.”

You point at the “animal” at the other side. “It’s over there. I saw it when I got debris out of the pool, and I didn’t want to do anything without you here.”

It’s subtle, but Murdock’s chest puffs up a little when you say that—and you did say that completely on purpose, just for that reason. Pride cometh before the fall, after all. “Let me look,” he says.

With practiced, measured steps, he walks forward, with you following close behind. His hand is outstretched on instinct, despite being empty. Murdock typically has a keen eye, but he doesn't seem to notice anything amiss about the lump in pool that he vocalizes. You hope it remains convincing when he gets closer. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, your chances of pulling this off teetering with every step he takes. The gap closes, slowly but surely, until he's nearly reached the side of the pool. That's when he stops.

You frown behind him. That won't do. “You're gonna stop there? You've gotta get a little closer.”

He turns and gives you a look. “But you hadn't gotten any closer.”

“I hadn't because I was scared. But you can.” You more or less bat your eyelashes at him. “Please?”

He huffs quietly. “Alright.” Murdock moves closer, and you encourage him up a little more, so now his feet hang slightly over the edge of the wall. He's even leaning over a little to get a better view. You only have a split second to act before he realizes that you’ve tricked him, and only a second longer than that before he potentially puts together your little prank.

Men do not have an “even” center of gravity, located more in the chest, causing them to be more “top heavy.” Murdock is no exception. All it takes is one good push to send him tumbling into the pool, grunting in surprise, and you book it to the adjacent side towards the shallow end, giggling. Murdock splashes around, but it doesn't take long for him to get his bearings and his feet under him; and for as tall as he is, his head easily pokes out of the water just enough for him to breathe comfortably. The man glares at you, and the annoyance on his face has you stifling your laughter. You fail pretty easily, emboldened by him being stuck in the pool.

“You think that's funny, huh?”

There's genuine annoyance in his voice, but also that tinge of danger that tends to make itself known when he speaks low like this. You know it doesn't mean anything when he's talking to you, but there's an instinctual part of yourself that still goes mildly on alert every time. While normally you'd wonder what he's thinking, right now you're just pleased as punch that this worked, looking like a cat who got the cream. “Mmm, maybe just a little bit.” You bring your index finger and thumb close to each other when you say that, as if indicating the amount.

Murdock doesn't take his eyes off of you, pulling himself out of the pool using the edge almost a little too effortlessly. The intensity that rarely leaves him has you squirming on the inside, but outwardly, you continue smiling innocently. He doesn’t say anything for a while, water dripping loudly off of him, his shirt clinging to his muscles. You’re trying not to stare. “You think you’re clever, hm?”

You’re not fully sure that it’s just annoyance in his expression anymore. You pretend you don’t notice. “Well, yes, since I managed to get the jump on you.”

Now you wish you know what he was thinking as his eyes narrow slightly. Despite being somewhat far from him, his demeanor and his energy makes it feel like he’s right in your space. “And what do I do with you?”

Your grin widens, seeing an opportunity, and you utter those magic words: “You'll have to catch me first.”

In an instant, his expression darkens, a primal intent crossing his features, and you relish the way your stomach twists and your heart races suddenly as a familiar feeling makes itself known below. Murdock growls. “You have fifteen seconds.”

He's barely finished speaking and you're already running, taking off down the side of the house. You know exactly how this is going to end, and as much as you'll do your best to prolong it, you also can't wait.

~~~

.....this mayyy have gotten away from me lol. 1384 words, in case you were wondering, and I didn't even write anything smutty ahdjdbd

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

Away from the Concierge's Desk - The Harbinger Cometh (Part 55)

In the minutes and hours since the Manager last saw her Concierge, she sits. Sits and thinks. Thinks about the bloodshed in New York, in Osaka. And if her sources are to be believed, Paris.

Where does it end. When the High Table extinguishes them all? Or when they prevail over the High Table? Or when all fighters have fought their last, with no life left to live?

So she sits. And thinks.

These machinations have put her on a path that she can no longer stray from. No doubt she and many others with her will suffer. But at the end of that suffering...peace.

Or, that's the goal anyway.

Surely she still has that goal in mind...right?

She couldn't possibly have lost sight of it.

Surely not.

She lowers her gaze to the report on her desk, written by her loyal Concierge. From this, she can see just what her Concierge faced. What Wick's presence had wrought.

Alas, she is not afforded any further time to consider the report. Not when the phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Good afternoon, ma'am," it's not her Concierge's voice, but that of another receptionist. "A Harbinger is here to see you."

Well, she knew this was coming.

"I shall receive them in my office. Please, send them up."

"At once, ma'am."

Papers and drawings disappear into drawers, pens into their holders, and she puts a kettle on boil. Just in time to hear the chime of the elevator, and the sound of the doors opening.

"Manager." Comes the slow drawl of a Harbinger's voice. One that is very, very familiar.

The Manager looks up to see a tall, broad man with a bald head and piercing blue eyes. "Ah, so you're the Harbinger." She smiles a wan smile, then. And raises a tea set. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

The Harbinger tilts his head, looks at her with those sharp, yet strangely empty eyes. "Certainly. However, you might decide there is little time for it."

Her heart stops.

"Hmm, perhaps not, then," she sets the tea set down and goes to her desk, standing by its edge, looking up at the Harbinger. "Well then, what are you here for?"

"A warning," he says slowly, raising his briefcase.

Her eyes go right to it. Too light to hold an hourglass, too heavy to just be a single missive.

He places it on the table, and slowly removes a sheaf of papers from it. It is bound with thread and ribbon as black as night.

"You have made your point," he says, placing it on the table, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Oh?" she says languidly, moving to sit, not even reaching for the papers. From the way the Harbinger closes his briefcase, he has no intention of taking it back.

"Your Concierge has made their choice to stand by your side. Despite the overwhelming odds. Despite their previous...discipline." The Harbinger looks down at his missing left ring finger, then looks up. "It was very obvious. The red outfit was an...interesting decision."

Red, the colour of blood. Of danger. Of warning. Do not touch me, lest you lose a hand. That was what the red clothes meant, or rather, is meant to convey. That the person who wore that red flag of warning was once a killer of renown, who despite their ruined hands is still incredibly lethal, is the entire point.

The Manager's way of conveying a warning with no words at all. She will tolerate the loss of one Hotel, but not another. Not without due cause.

Though to have only one individual carry out that warning...it was a gamble.

For the first time in this conversation, the Manager's eyes flick to the side. "Yes...the Devourer."

"If you wanted to make it obvious who your Concierge fought for, it didn't require the very...flashy choice of clothes. The same applies if the motivation was to send a message to the Marquis." The Harbinger sounds disapproving. "They are lucky to be alive. Thanks to their...compatriots."

The skeleton brothers.

At that, the Manager's eyes flare angrily. "Are you done?"

"No," the Harbinger tips his head forward to let the brim of it shadow his eyes. "Your decision to flaunt them, to display their loyalty in such an obvious manner. To use them as a message. In that way, you are no better than them."

Them. The High Table. The Elder. Men playing at being gods, making the world around them dance like puppets upon their strings. No. No, she will never be like them.

Soft little pops fill the air. The Manager clenches her fists tight, so tight as to crack her knuckles. "Now that..." she sneers dangerously. "Is an insult."

The Harbinger is not moved in the slightest, though the muscle in his jaw ticks once. "Think as you like. But you and that Monster Queen are playing a grand game...a game which you cannot win. So do your Concierge a favour, and release them before they are bound by that promise they made to you so long ago."

That promise...

Words spoken eons ago float through her head. Her memory of that day as clear as crystal.

"If you take up this position, you're binding yourself to them. You'll lose your freedom. You will abide by their rules. I have seen it...you will become like them." Her Concierge. Although, at that point, a disgraced, disfigured, Emissary.

"I will never become like them."

"That's not a promise you can make." Ever practical. Ever logical.

"...Fine. You want a promise I can make? Here. If I ever, ever stoop to their level, you can rip out my heart."

"You're not serious. But you told me that--" That the Devourer's days of ripping beating hearts out of the chests of their quarry was over. Their hands would never recover that monstrous strength.

But she had no doubt those hands will have strength enough for this one request.

"This is your one exception. The only person whose heart you can rip out while they still live? Mine. You can even eat it after, if you so desire, Devourer. But you will stop me. No matter what it takes."

"I don't actually eat it but...very well. I shall hold you to that promise."

And just like that, the memory fades. The Manager huffs a mirthless laugh, shaking herself from her reverie. "Releasing them will do naught. It is a promise I made, and it is a promise they will keep." She looks down at the sheaf of bound paper. Touches it. Draws it close. "What is this?"

"An intercepted report to the High Table." Comes the Harbinger's toneless response.

What? Hawk-like eyes flick up and look at a man who the Elder had bent to his will. Or so the world thought. "And what, exactly, are you doing with an intercepted report?"

Those strangely empty yet sharp blue eyes seem to warm, seem to fill with knowing, and the Harbinger smiles flatly. "Why, giving it to you. Of course."

[nerdywriter36]

Und'r duress, I has't cometh to putteth this in an asketh, rath'r than to just sendeth thee a text message. Because apparently I might not but doth things “prop'rly. ” So h're:

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / did dare to kisseth

I’m going to needeth some e/c content f'r this. Thanketh thee v'ry much.

I remaineth,

The clotpole you’re did stick with f'r the rest of thy life <3

yes this has been sitting in my inbox since October. yes I apologize for that. no i don't remember what ask game this is from. i hope you enjoy this little thing, friend <3

~

"Thank you for agreeing to be my partner tonight, Maestro. I simply had to come, the girls would never have let me hear the end of it if I hadn't," Christine said with a smile up at her teacher as they walked arm-in-arm into the grand foyer of the Opera Garnier for the annual masquerade ball.

She was lovely, radiant, practially glowing in the warm light of the chandeliers, in her crisp white mask and gown, masquerading as the angel that she already was. Her blue eyes shone as she looked up at him, and even with the feelings of anxiety and incompetence eating him up from the inside, he couldn't help but smile back.

Erik was quite the partner for her, her polar opposite, dressed in blood red with a golden mask over his entire face and a long cloak trailing them, the famous words of a Poe poem painstakingly stitched into the fabric. Death and the Maidan come to life, truly, though he knew that they would have looked like that anywhere they went. He was hardly fit for grand outings and parties, and his first instinct had been to refuse Christine's request to join her that night; a woman as beautiful as her had no business being seen out and about with a man like him. Once she had explained the pressure she faced from the other chorus girls and how she truly wished for his company, though, he found himself powerless to refuse. He truly could deny her nothing.

"It is my pleasure," he replied as they reached the sidelines of the dance floor. "Will you want to dance, or shall we look for something to drink first?"

"Oh, let's dance once this song ends," Christine said with a grin that made her entire face light up. "That will be the perfect way to show people that I am here and that I have a partner."

Erik cracked another smile in reaction her excitement. "I suppose it is, yes. I donm't have an abundance of practice with ballroom dancing, though, I will admit."

(She didn't need to know that he had been reading up on the subject and practicing along in his home. Absolutely not.)

"I am sure that you will be perfect," Christine replied, giving his arm a reassuring pat. "And remember, you can hold me closer than normal and have your hand on your waist and all of that. We are meant to look like a couple, after all."

"Oh...so long as you're sure," Erik said, glad that his mask so effectively hid his flushed cheeks.

"Of course, competely sure. You are usually not one to touch me, so I am telling you that it's alright," Christine explained. She giggled then, shook her head. "I know this is all a bit silly, you pretending to be my sweetheart,t but I appreciate you playing along."

Erik smiled and swallowed thickly, attempting to ignore the dull ache in his chest at those words. "Anything for you, my angel," he replied as he set a chaste hand on the small of her back and ushered her onto the dance floor. Just for the night, she was his and he was hers. His Christine, her Erik.

If only they didn't have to pretend.

[dipperscavern]

Hiiii I’ve never done this but I’ve always wanted to have my fortune told!

I’m an autistic Puerto Rican (so like Dorne lol) that has followed the Hellenistic (old Greek gods) pantheon since I was young. I’m not shy necessarily, but I do take time to observe people before I interact. My personality type is INFP-T I’m pretty sure. I lowkey have a bit of a temper when pushed but I pride myself on having extreme empathy and ability to put myself in other shoes. When I fall in love I fall hard and am deeply loyal. I’m quite politically savvy as it’s something that is one of my hyper fixation and I love history. 💕

cometh, cometh, oh servant of the gods, and see who on your fate which three fall down upon 🔮

i see… ah, yes, the man of the hour… jon snow. taking time to observe people before you interact has jon written all over it, and i think it would be funny to see you both observing each other before you even think about approaching. jon’s usual calm-ness would do wonders at dousing your temper, and your empathy, even after all you’ve been through, is the thing jon admires most about you. that after everything you are still kind. when you fall you fall hard, and jon knows everything about that. you both love hard. jon would cherish your loyalty, and your political intelligence would help take a lot of the weight off his shoulders as lord commander. lots of late nights are spent at jon’s desk, but your loyalty is unwavering, and for that he’s eternally grateful <3

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

The Kingdom of the Stars Chapter 19: The Reunion

Previous: Chapter 18

Next: Chapter 20

“Can you reach it?” Ana called, floating a few meters overhead as she held Phoebe toward the tip of the bell tower.

“Yes!” she answered, adjusting her grip on the final piece of golden flower decor, as the crowd watched with bated breath. 

Both turned their glances down below, giving Asha a nod, before she turned to address the waiting crowd.

“Alright, everyone! This is it!” Asha held up her fingers, as she could feel the air practically crackle with excitement. 

“3-,”

Phoebe reached her small hands towards the pole.

“2-,” 

Her fingers were mere inches from it as the crowd below watched with bated breath.

“1-,”

Phoebe carefully placed the decoration around the belltower’s pole as the crowd erupted into cheers with several tossing their hats and flowers into the evening twilight. 

After hours of hard work and planning, The market decorations had officially reached completion. . 

She couldn’t help but smile as she basked in the soft glow of the now-lit lanterns that, along with the old wilted tree’s blossoms, had practically breathed new life into the market.

It was perfect really, and she couldn’t have asked for more than that.

After all, None of this would’ve been possible without their creative vision and assistance. 

She looked around the joyful crowd, soaking in the atmosphere as she watched the people begin to go about their business. 

The musicians immediately began to play their festive tunes as Mrs. Alina, Mrs. Akinemi, and several others, danced. 

She squeezed through the crowd, murmuring words of excuses and apologies as her eyes searched for one face in particular. A face that she was both glad yet frightened she couldn’t find.

“PLLLEEAAATTT!”

“Oh, Valentino,” she stopped, watching as the goat came into view. Several of Ana’s birds were perched on his back. Their soft chirps and songs quietly reminded her of her birds, who she hoped had returned to the castle safely. “You haven’t seen…him  have you?” 

The goat shook his head as she let out a sigh of relief. 

Her eyes quickly landed on the night sky above, where the hole in the thick thunderclouds had quietly slipped into view. 

‘Maybe he’d gone home?’ After all, he had granted her wish, hadn’t he? 

All of her tasks were completed, so if she’d gotten what she’d wanted then there’d be no reason for him to stay. 

Those rules he’d sworn had kept him here would’ve effectively become null, and with that he’d have no choice but to go home! 

This night couldn’t get any better, could it?

 She beamed at Valentino who pleated at her curiously. “I have a very good feeling about this,” she whispered, watching Ana’s birds quickly disperse as two figures approached her. 

“Wonderful job on the market, miss!” She heard Captain Silver call as he gave her a firm pat on the shoulder, before turning to Mr. Bjorn. “See now didn’t I tell ya that she could do it? Hmm?” Bjorn scowled in reply as Silver grinned. “Now hand it over,” he reached towards the elderly man with his bandaged hand. “A deal’s a deal, remember?”

Mr. Bjorn grumbled, turning to her, “Just for the record, I knew that you would do an amazing job decorating this market. I just didn’t think Allard would let you do it while she was still…alive…but ah,” he sighed before shrugging as he dug into his pocket for three golden coins that he grudgingly handed to the grinning sea captain. “I suppose stranger things have happened in these parts before.”

“But ya losing a bet is not one of them,” Captain Silver called before victoriously stuffing the gold coins into his pocket. 

“I wouldn’t speak so loudly if I was you! Pride cometh before a fall! And no one in Rosas has a history of Fallin like yourself!” Bjorn argued back as Asha watched them walk off into the now busy market crowd together. 

She glanced towards one part of the market where several people gathered for the renewed baking competitions. It was something she’d eagerly looked forward to seeing how it would unfold, given how the reigning champ, Dahlia, was no longer present to dominate.

“Want to take a look around?” She asked Valentino. “There’s a lot to see and do.” The goat nodded, quickly trotting alongside her as the pair began to venture towards the more crowded part of the market.

“Come get your chance to win a new toy in a game of marbles!” A nearby merchant called as several others began to open their shops, all promising prizes and fun games.

“Feeling brave? Try your luck at the fiercest Noughts and Crosses champion!” the man gestured to a grinning child seated around a table. 

“Are you the new sack toss champion? There’s only one way to find out,” a woman called as she gestured towards her stall. “Try your luck…you might win a prize.”

“It’s beautiful Valentino,” Asha contentedly sighed, continuing to take in the sights and sounds of the market around them as they continued to stroll through.

Valentino pleated in agreement, before both paused, watching a few people pass them all of whom were headed towards the enormous crowd that now surrounded Mr. Armin’s stall.

“You were the one who provided the papers and strings for these cranes, right?” she heard a noblewoman ask as he nodded. “Good, well I’d like to place an order for your next shipment of these as soon as possible.”

“Of course! Of course ma’am!” he nodded, hurriedly scribbling the order down.

“I’d also like to place some orders as well! For whatever you used to make this!” a man called as he held up one of the makeshift streamers that Mr. Armin had created with some of the flowers from the old wilted tree.

“Certainly! I’ll have your order ready before the end of the week.”

“I’d like to place an order for those too!’ someone else called.

A nobleman stepped forward, gesturing to the young stoic-faced girl who stood at his side, “Tell me, good sir, do you take apprentices? My daughter would like to learn-,”

A small grin made its way to Mr. Armin’s face as he answered,  “It’s been a while since I’ve taken in an apprentice. But I’ll see what I can do.”

She watched on, hope blossoming within her that this could be the start of something new or bigger and better, for not only his business but for the other teachers and hopefully the townspeople as a whole. 

It was, after all, the least they deserved for helping her out. 

“Come on Mom! You’ve got to try this! They’re amazing!” She heard a girl call as she began to tug her mother towards the long line for Mrs. Kurkaus and her husband’s stall. 

“Alright alright,” her mother chuckled before speaking to a woman following her “These things seem to be a hit with the kids you know-, he says they call it something like ice cream- can you imagine?”

“Ha! We’re certainly not making it out of the dark ages with that one, are we?”

“Not a chance. 

“You know…My son tried one earlier and hasn’t been able to stop talking about it since. He swears it’s the best thing he’s had since Tarta de queso!” the woman chuckled before the trio wandered out of earshot. 

The best thing since Tarta de queso? 

She exchanged glances with Valentino. There was only one way to find out, wasn’t there? 

Admittedly she’d nearly been tempted to join the insanely long line but the sound of Diego hollering overhead brought her to a stop. 

“Woooooooohooooo!” She, along with several others glanced overhead,  watching in amazement as Ana soared through the partially clouded sky while holding an excited Diego in her arms.

“Remember to keep your arms stretched!” Ana called. “We fly faster that way!”

He nodded as she watched them briefly soar out of view.

“Someone seems like she’s having a lot of fun,” Asha commented as she looked at Valentino, who pleated in agreement, probably wanting to be next in line for a ride as well. 

Ana had mastered her gift in a remarkable time, as she now flew so well that Asha was half tempted to think that she’d been born for flying. 

But come to think of it, it seemed as if everyone who’d had their wishes granted had mastered their newfound gifts rather quickly, hadn’t they? 

She watched as Mrs. Bellerose stopped the rain from her cloud with a simple gesture before she prepared her next customer’s bouquet. Mrs. Kurkaus nearly did the same as she patted her snow cloud for a few icicles. Even Julian had moved with a surprising amount of efficiency when he’d been on a rampage earlier.

It was funny really, Asha had always thought that the king and prince made it sound like magic took years, if not a lifetime to master, but everyone who had had their wishes granted today made it look so simple .

Was it simply a difference in the type of magic or was it something else? Asha would never know nor would she want to. 

She took a mental step back, carefully thinking over everything.

The chaos, the success, the work.  

A lot had happened, mostly because of the star.  But as much as she hated to admit it, everything that the star had disobediently done had seemed to help in the long run. 

Granting Mrs. Bellerose’s wish had not only revived her business but it had allowed her to add all sorts of flowers to the town’s decorations, giving them a vibrancy that Asha had never even thought they’d need. Then Mrs. Kurkaus’s wish led to her selling and inventing even more delicious treats that the townspeople would gladly appreciate. And then there was Ana who was now giving the children fun rides with her ability to fly.

But all three of those wishes were something Asha wouldn’t have been able to grant on her own, nor were they wishes that she could see the king even consider granting.

She couldn’t make someone fly, nor could she create a cloud that could rain or snow on command. But  All three wishes had positively contributed to the market, and ultimately to her teachers' wishes. 

Even Julian’s wish, despite how destructive it had been, was the only reason why any of this was allowed to come to fruition. 

He’d destroyed the market’s decorations, hadn’t he? Then he’d injured the officials. 

He’d inadvertently left them no choice but to go with her plans; plans that most definitely wouldn’t have materialized if Allard nor her decorations had been burnt.

It was an upsetting thought, but perhaps not an incorrect one, she reasoned, as her gaze settled on the golden branches of the old wilted tree that now peaked from behind some of the buildings. 

She wasn’t sure what the star had exactly done to the tree, but as she stopped, taking in the soft glowing flowers that they’d integrated from the tree into the decorations, she knew she couldn’t deny that the tree was breathtaking at the least.

It had done wonders for raising morale, as she’d noticed that the people had seemed even more invigorated once they’d caught sight of the tree.

It had been a sign. 

A miracle, and that was exactly what she needed.

Had the star done it coincidentally, or intentionally? 

Nothing about him gave her the feeling that he was some grand mastermind, and yet she couldn’t help but feel that some of the things he had said, and done felt…premeditated.

 But then again, maybe she was giving the star too much credit and too much of her time.

He was gone now, wasn’t he? So why even bother to waste time thinking about him when she had the king to address? Letting him know about the dangers in the wish garden was her top priority now, but she’d need somewhere private to tell him about it. Somewhere that she could convince him to-

“PLEEEAAATTTT!” 

“Valentino?” she blinked, watching as the goat fervently leaped, his eyes darting towards the other side of the market as several incoming figures pushed themselves through the crowd, panting as they looked around with widened eyes.

“T-The king!” she heard the town crier call, pointing behind him as the crowd began to stir. “His highness has arrived!”

“ The king?!”

“The king is here?!”

“Already!?!” 

Quickly the crowd moved aside as the king, mounted on his favorite horse, came into view. 

“Whoa! Whoa!” He called pulling the horse’s reins as the queen and several other apprentices came into view: all mounted on their own horses as well. 

Granted she’d expected him to be here, but she hadn’t expected him to bring the whole calvary with him!

A sudden hush fell over the crowd as she watched everyone quickly bow. Commoner and noble, Maintainer and guard. Everyone bowed deeply to their king as she watched his eyes scan over the crowd. 

“Good evening Rosas!” He called, circling 

 the market several times, his eyes curiously sweeping over the decorations. 

 “Not bad,” he muttered to himself, as she watched him bring his horse to a complete halt next to Mr. Leitus’s chalk mural. His eyes lit up as she heard him call, “Oh! Now this is nice! Amaya do you see this?” he called, as the queen rode to his side, quietly observing Mr. Leitus’s chalk mural of them. “Someone is definitely working overtime to get their wish granted~,”

“Finally!” she heard Mr. Leitus whisper as a few members of the crowd seemed to relax.

At least he seemed to be in a good mood, and a happy king was the best king to deal with.

 Finally, the king’s eyes swept the crowd once more before finally landing on her’s and gesturing to the queen. 

Had the king himself been looking for her?

No, he couldn’t be. 

He had no reason to. But the look of relief in the queen’s eyes told her otherwise as the thought hit her. 

 Sebastian.

He’d left her behind that night, hadn’t he? She grimaced. The sight of the horse returning that night without its rider must’ve worried them. 

Her thoughts were only confirmed when she saw a surprised Safi riding atop the familiar black stallion. 

Her eyes quickly returned to the king’s, not missing the way how his brows furrowed as she saw a tick in his jaw. 

Was he upset with her? Suspicious? She braced herself for the inevitable cascade of questions, questions that never had the chance to materialize as the crowd did the unthinkable. 

They cheered.

They cheered far louder and harder than they had before, Asha swore she felt the ground shake as the king looked on in surprise, exchanging a glance with his queen who merely shrugged. 

“Long live King Magnifico and Queen Amaya!” she heard someone yell, as the crowd roared in agreement, all wishing their blesses to the royal couple.

Somewhat recovered, a half-grinning king muttered something to the queen, before turning back to the crowd with a newly placed smile.  “My people of Rosas!” he called, holding up his hand as the crowd fell into an awe-filled silence. It had been the first time since arriving did Asha hear the marketplace be so silent. “May I say that it is truly an honor to be with you all again this evening!” He grinned, looking over the crowd before glancing to the uneasy maintainers. “I can tell that this certainly was no ordinary market decoration, was it?” he asked, eyeing one of the fallen golden petals from the old wilted tree.

“We are truly honored by both your presence and blessings, your highness, even in the most unpredictable circumstances…” answered someone from the crowd. Asha was willing to bet that said person had been a maintainer, perhaps one of the few people who’d be brave enough to lead with such a statement.

“Is it true that you were the one who granted our wishes earlier?” someone else asked.

“It wasn’t the work of the rumored rogue sorcerer, right?”

“Why have you decided to grant wishes before the wishing ceremony?”

The king grinned, but Asha could see it, the slight but subtle tension in his shoulders, before he relaxed, a chuckle escaping his lips, as he glanced towards the queen.“Ha, a rogue sorcerer, can you imagine?…” He chuckled once more, before waving his hand dismissively as he smiled towards the awaiting townsfolk, “There’s no need to worry about that. That sorcerer has been taken care of long ago. As for your wishes…Well, with my young apprentice coming to assist, I was hoping to provide you all with assistance of sorts for the decorations. Something that could make this upcoming celebration truly incredible! Now tell me, how are you all enjoying your new gifts?”

From the corner of her eyes, Asha could see the maintainers and officials relax, as the crowd began to stir.

“It’s wonderful, Your Highness!” Ana called, briefly levitating.

“You saved my business!” Mrs. Bellerose called as she glanced at her rain cloud.

“I used the ice you gave me to make a King Magnifico ice cream treat, just for you!” Mrs. Kurkaus commented as she held up a frosted treat that heavily resembled the king.

 Now the king looked impressed, maybe even flattered. 

“You saved my shop!” Mr. Armin commented.

“And ours as well!” Called another merchant.

“We would’ve lost everything had you not sent the rain storm to save us from the fierce and fiery hold of Julian!”

She could see the tick in his eyes, the tiniest note of surprise, but it had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving in its place an air of undeserved satisfaction and pride. 

Years of addressing the public had trained him well.

He hadn’t granted those wishes. 

There was a good chance that he hadn’t even know who or what said wishes had been granted, but Asha had a feeling that there was no way that the king was going to let the people know that. 

It would make him look as if he wasn’t in complete control of the wishes, nor could he protect them as well as promised. It would imply that he had an equal, a superior even- and that was when it dawned on her. 

There was a reason why the star had gladly given the king all the credit both for the tree and the other wishes. 

It wasn’t out of kindness, no. 

It had been out of strategy.

It was possible that by giving the king credit for the wish-granting, the star had put the king in one of two positions. 

He could A) be honest to the people that he hadn’t been the one to grant these wishes- that this magic, a magic that could possibly rival his own had come from elsewhere, or B) he could take credit for it. 

As honest as option A was, if he admitted this magic wasn’t his, then it would no doubt leave the king’s ability to protect both Rosas and its wishes from the outside forces looking inadequate, especially during a time when the hole in the clouds still persisted, and then there’d been a curfew because of an allegedly rogue sorcerer. If said sorcerer had gotten past his ‘barriers’ so easily, admitting the truth would’ve been an insult, both to the king’s capabilities and pride.

Then there’d been option B. He could lie, which seemed to be exactly what he was doing now

Was he upset that someone else in Rosas apparently had the magic to grant wishes? Most likely. 

But if the people praised and accredited him for such things, then in the eyes of his loyal subjects and to the world at large, he wasn’t only just doing what he’d promised, he was excelling at it. Over delivering. Being every bit the benevolent king that they believed and wanted him to be.

The only obstacle that now stood in his way was Julian’s horrific wish. 

But even that had a solution.

Perhaps he could paint himself as the benevolent overhead trying to give a troubled youth a second chance only to have said youth take advantage of the situation in the worst way possible, and honestly? 

That would’ve been more than just the perfect lie.

Julian already had a history of suspected attempted arsonry and trouble-causing, so there was a very good chance that most would take the king’s word for it without a second thought. 

It seemed as if the king had shared her train of thought as she watched his face soften, sadness becoming visible as she heard him say, “Julian?” the king repeated, looking a bit confused as his grip on his spear tightened. “Ah you mean Julian- of course, of course. You see, I granted Julian has always been a close friend of my nephew. I’ve known him since he was a small boy, and back then I knew that he was a studio child, with a good heart, a heart that I fear had been unfairly plagued by the troubles of life.”

Most of the crowd seemed to coo in a sort of sympathy that Asha was certain hadn’t been present before.

“I wanted to give him another chance,” the king continued as he glanced into his scepter. He looked devastated, as she watched the queen gently lay a hand on his back. “I wanted to prove to the world that there was still some good in him, that he could still do good… ” He sighed, shaking his head, “ I only wish he hadn’t taken it for granted.”

It was hard to see the king’s expression from this angle as she heard a guard gruffly call out, 

“The bloody fool! Give us the word and we’ll teach him to never take anything from our king for granted again!” 

The crowd cheered in agreement, leaving Asha’s stomach feeling uneasy. 

They’d taken the bait, hook, line, and sinker, and just like that. No questions asked, no flags raised, nor suspicions aroused. 

It was ironic.

 Julian’s wish had turned him into the perfect fall guy who would not only ruin his life but ultimately paint the king in a far more sympathetic and benevolent light than he could’ve ever wanted. 

Had the star been gunning on the king being cocky and dishonest enough to do this? 

She wasn’t sure, but he’d been right either way.

He’d seemed so smug that she nearly believed that he knew what he was doing…and if he was, then there was no doubt that he definitely knew far more than he let on.

“People, please,” the king sighed, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he regained his posture, acting as if he’d been forcing himself to move forward. 

Every movement was so subtle and telling, no part of his body language seemed extra or wasted.

 “I appreciate your spirit, but I’d much rather prefer to speak to him myself, as in all my years of ruling, protecting, and guiding Rosas, I can promise you that the best way to solve a problem is not to destroy it, but to understand it. The situation will be dealt with accordingly. I can promise you all that much.”

The crowd murmured, mostly in respect and awe for the king as Asha’s eyes searched the crowd, thankful that the star was absent. 

“But enough of that, you were having a festival, weren’t you?” the king asked. “One that despite all odds has persisted and flourished!” the crowd victoriously cheered, as she sighed in relief. “So, how about we get back to the festivities!” 

The crowd cheered once more, this time inviting their king to join them. 

As much as Asha wished to partake in their joy, she knew that if the king were to get involved in this (which he most likely was) along with the investigations that the maintainers were running, then there was a good chance that he’d find truly find out that she’d-

She shivered, cutting off the thought. 

There was no need to think about it, at least not here in public where she’d risk making herself look even more suspicious. 

Right now she needed to- “Asha!” The voice of her mother cut through her thoughts as she heard the crowd begin to cheer once more, no doubt at whatever the king had said. 

Her mother quickly came into view, pushing and shoving her way through the crowd before tightly embracing Asha. “Oh thank God,” she gasped. 

“Mama?” Asha choked out.

“I was so worried. We were all so worried,” her mother muttered, before slowly letting her go to face her. She looked her over, once, twice, and then sighed. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” she placed a hand over her heart before Asha saw her frown re-emerge in full force. Uh oh. She only frowned like that when she had an earful for her.

“Asha!” She exclaimed. “where on earth have you been?! Do you know how worried we all were?! We nearly tore up half of Rosas looking for you!”

“Ha, well, you see mama, it’s a funny story really- but, I was doing tasks for the king,” she whispered, watching as the crowd cheered this time for both the king and queen who was still addressing them. “A lot of tasks, and one of them involved overseeing the decorating of the market, and I would’ve contacted you sooner, but I got caught up in… some things. But I’m finished so at least I have time off now! I think.”

She winced, taking note of her mother’s unmoved expression before she heard her mother sigh and embrace her once more.“I didn’t know you had to do this much just to get time off! Do the other apprentices have to do this much work for their time off as well?”

She shook her head “No, it’s not usually like this. I think the upcoming events have just given everyone a lot to do,” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that of all things. It wasn’t as if she’d regularly ask for time off, and even then, she was quite certain that none of the other apprentices had to do anything remotely similar to this. 

Maybe she was just feeling grateful.

 As cumbersome as the tasks had been, some good had come out of them. She’d brought the prince back and helped grant some wishes.

She’d made people happy, or at least tried to.

So as much as the king didn’t deserve her excuses, she could at least admit that his tasks had somewhat helped in the long run.

Finally, her mother released her, looking around. “You really decorated and designed all of this?”

“With a lot of help, but I mostly oversaw it and did a few designs here and there,” she admitted.

Her mother smiled. “It’s beautiful!” “I haven’t seen the market like this in years! How did you convince the head official to let you do it?”

Asha grimaced, “It was less convincing on my part and more so a series of unfortunate events.”

Her mother raised a questioning brow, nearly about to ask for elaboration when Mrs. Chidera stepped towards them. 

“Chidera!” her mother had cried before embracing her as the crowd cheered once more.

“Hello Sakina,” Mrs. Chidera called, as she embraced her mother before stepping back.

“How have you been?” 

“Honestly?” Mrs. Chidera’s smile shrank as she shook her head. “It’s a long story. A stressful story, but at least it has a satisfying conclusion.”

Asha reasoned that satisfying was one way to put it, but it could’ve been much worse for her if the king had been honest.

“Stressful? Is everything alright, Chidera?” 

“No, no, it’s fine now. We just had some… issues earlier, but it seems as if they’ve been resolved. So there is nothing to worry about.”  A slow smile spread across her face, one that Asha would remember not quite reaching her eyes before she massaged her temples. “Unfortunately I have some business to attend to for the time being, but I do hope you both enjoy your evening,” she called, glancing towards her colleagues before quickly taking her leave.

Now her mother looked beyond worried. She looked concerned as she turned to her and asked, “What exactly happened in the market earlier?”

Asha had no idea how to answer that, and thankfully she didn’t have to as she heard the king’s nearing voice say, “Asha! We’ve been looking all over for you, where have you been?” 

She was surprised at the relief she felt as she watched some of the surrounding eyes turn to the king and queen’s approaching figures.

“Your Highness,” She curtsied, hoping that she looked more confident than she actually felt. “My apologies for any concern or issues I've caused you. I’ve been here overseeing the market decorations…”

“I can tell,” the king called as he looked around. “It’s…prepossessing, to say the least. Well done.”

“Thank you, your highness. I couldn’t have done it without some assistance from my fellow townsfolk and Lady Allard herself.” She didn’t miss how some of the surrounding townspeople frowned at her words, and in any other situation, she was sure she would’ve hated herself for saying it too, but not now. 

As much as she hated to admit it, The king wasn’t the only one who could make friends or scapegoats. Not if her family’s safety was at stake. 

She couldn’t let him realize the connection between the wishes and her goal, not if it would lead to him being suspicious. So she needed for him to believe that Lady Allard had been an ally and not a hindrance, even if it meant sacrificing some of her credit to do so. 

“Lady Allard helped you with this?” the king asked, raising a brow as he looked around the marketplace.

Asha nodded as she withdrew the noblewoman’s ring from her pocket. “She did. ” she lied. “Before the event of the attack, nothing happened without her approval or knowledge. She even helped suggest some ideas as well.” She gestured to the lanterns, an idea that had been her own. “And with her blessings, I was able to continue it even after she was injured and integrated some of the designs and suggestions from the others.”

“I see,” the king answered, glancing from her to the ring. Relief consumed her as she realized that the king had accepted her answer. “And how were your other tasks?”

She could tell that he was anticipating her failure, but she was afraid she’d have to disappoint him.

“Finished, Your Highness. Just as you requested.”

“Finished?” the king repeated in near disbelief, as she nodded. “I know you’ve taken care of the other side of the market, and this one, but what of the last one?”

It took everything in her to not smile as she said the words,  “In the Iron Explorer Inn, Your Highness.”

The king stepped back, exchanging a surprised glance with the queen before he cleared his throat, quickly regaining his posture. With a simple nod, two guards took off towards the inn, leaving them all alone as she saw the other apprentices look on with baited breaths.

“Well, I must admit, I am very impressed.” His nearly stoic yet polite expression said otherwise. “You’ve somehow managed to achieve the impossible,” he gave her a nod, before turning to the surrounding crowd who’d been listening in, “so let’s hear it for Asha, hmm? For all the diligent work she’s put in to make this happen!” The crowd cried and applauded so hard that she could’ve sworn that this time she did feel the cobblestone ground beneath her feet shake. 

“Grant her wish your highness it’s the least she could get for putting up with us!” she heard Mr. Armin call. 

Her heart stopped as she felt the king’s gaze linger on Mr. Armin almost as if he was thinking.

She held her breath, waiting for the king’s response as she watched him smile, thoughtfully tapping the butt of his staff onto the ground. “You know it’s funny that you say that. If my memory serves me correctly, we’re due for another wish ceremony, aren’t we? In about a week I believe, right?”

She could sense the heavy implications his words offered as the crowd started to stir once more, answering with the obvious reminders of the upcoming ball and ceremony. 

Her heart sank as she began to realize where this conversation was headed.

She didn’t want to do this.

She couldn’t do this!

She glanced towards the queen, desperate for any sign or way of salvation, but it seemed as if the queen’s attention was on a guard who’d stepped forward to quietly address her. 

“Do you hear the sound of that?” she heard the king call from over the sounds of cheers. 

She’d opened her mouth to speak, but a heavy weight had centered itself on her chest as she watched the king swim in the adoration and attention that the crowd provided. While still looking towards the people, he spoke, “Those are all the people who are wishing you well both at the ball and ceremony… It’s wonderful, right?”

Hesitantly, she felt herself nod, “Yes your highness, it is, and I’m honored really-,”

Now he turned to her, his grin in full display “Good! Then I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow at the castle to talk about it.”

“T-tomorrow?” she repeated, a bit caught off guard. Hadn’t she completed all of her tasks?! Why was he asking her to return to the castle?!

As if sensing her thoughts, he nodded, adding, “Only for a few hours of course! What, did you think I’d go back on my word? A promise is a promise Asha, and you know I would never purposefully break a promise.” 

She nodded watching as he began to step in the opposite direction. “And besides it’s Just to ensure all of the finalizations for the ball! These things do take practice, you know. So I’ll see you there before dawn,” He paused, gesturing for the rest of the apprentices to follow him as he made his way through the adoring crowd. 

The crowd bowed and cheered for the passing royals with a few even asking some of the other apprentices for autographs.

They were the guests of honor weren’t they, or at least a part of the royal entourage, so she supposed it only made sense for them to enjoy the festivities while it lasted. He halted once more, this time grinning as he looked over the still applauding and roaring crowd.

She could tell that he was loving every bit of this.

He had to be.

Never mind that the king hadn’t even asked her to accompany him or spoken about his promise to fund her projects but she supposed that would have to be dealt with tomorrow when she’d tell him of the danger. She hated having to delay it, but she knew better than to interrupt the king when he was like this in public.

She watched as he held his staff high in the air as he declared, “To the new era of Rosas!”

“To Rosas!” the people echoed. 

She could hear the sounds of drinks clinking as the music resumed, leaving her to hopelessly watch as the crowd swallowed the king, and his entourage up. 

Somewhere in the dying cheers of the crowd, she could make out the brief words of thanks and congratulations for her wishing ceremony. 

Mrs. Chidera had told her, “A personal invitation from the king to attend your wishing ceremony? Sounds like someone is on the right path for a promotion!” Or disaster. 

“You deserve it, Asha! After how you took down Julian earlier, the king should be granting at least hundreds of your wishes!” Mr. Armin had said.

“Remember me, when you get your wish granted, eh?” Mr. Leitus joked. “You were always one of  my favorite students .”

Oh gosh. How could she tell them all that she hadn’t even planned on attending the wishing ceremony to begin with? How could she tell them the truth?! 

Somewhere in the ruckus of her muddled mind, Asha heard Valentino pleat as she felt him gently nudge her leg. She could see from the expression on his face that he was concerned. 

“I’ll be fine,” she murmured, but if it had been to reassure Valentino or herself, she wasn’t sure. 

“Asha?” she heard her mother call. “Are you alright?”

“Yes mama, I’m fine,” she lied, nodding towards her. She was not fine. She was anything but fine. She knew from her mother’s expression that she didn’t believe her as she glanced past her most likely towards the king.

Her mother was definitely starting to suspect something. 

But how could she tell her?

The king of all people who roped her into this, and everyone in Rosas knew better than to refuse an order from the king, no matter how small or unfair said order was.

How exactly was she supposed to attend the wish ceremony when she didn’t have a wish? Better yet, how was she supposed to attend the astral ball, when she could barely waltz? 

She was going to make a fool of herself at both. She knew it. 

“And the night had been so close to being perfect,” she whispered under her breath as she sighed.  Leave it to the king to unintentionally make her life harder for his own entertainment. 

She sighed again, pinching her temples as she tried to reassure herself. It wasn’t like the night could get any worse, right? 

“Asha!” she heard the voice of her grandfather call. 

“Saba!” she called over the now cheering crowd that watched the queen easily score a point against the town’s champion in sack toss. Ignacio hadn’t been kidding when he called her athletic.

He narrowed his eyes towards her as he pointed his old wooden cane in her direction. “Want to give me an explanation for why you were running around with a boy this side of Rosas?”

“Boy?” Her mother repeated, glancing from her grandfather to her with a shocked expression. “Boy?!”

“Saba!” she yelped before she turned to her mother and quickly shook her head. “Mama it’s not like that, I swear.”

“She’s right,” she watched the old man lean towards her mother. “It’s worse .”

She shook her head “No! No! It’s actually super complicated, and accidental….”

“Likely story,” her grandfather scoffed before waving his hand dismissively. “A warning would’ve been nice you know, or just a small message informing us of your gallivanting. Do you know how many message hawks I had to use to find you?!”

“I wasn’t gallivanting. Wait a second, how did you-,” her voice trailed off as she watched a few children come into view, all eating the familiar pastries from her grandfather’s bakery before giving her a knowing smile. “Traitors,” she muttered.

“He bribed us with brownies!” Edda protested.

Thatcher took another bite from the pastry. “He also promised to teach us the move you did today too!”

“Brownies, really?” she placed her hands on her hip. “You couldn’t even sell me out for something better, like cake? You’re resorting to bribery brownies now, Saba?”

Her grandfather shrugged, “Eh, it’s the best pastry to bake before a funeral.”

“A funeral?” she repeated. “ A funeral?!”

Of course, he didn’t elaborate as she watched him grumble something to himself before glancing around the crowd. “Where is this boy you speak of? Bjorn told me that he saw him this morning.”

“Oh him?” Asha paused looking around, relief filling her. “He’s gone.” Thankfully . “He was just passing through, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to-,”

“I was wondering where you’d been, Asha,” came a terrible voice from behind her. A voice that she knew most definitely should not have been here.

Why?!

Why was he still here?! 

He should’ve gone back to the sky ages ago!

She cringed, forcefully swallowing the cry in her throat as she looked back, taking in the sight of the star who stood there with a cup of Mrs. Kurkaus’s frosted treats in his hands. “Sorry I was late,” he said as if he wasn’t ruining the very fabric of her existence by standing there. “The line for these things is shockingly long, but it’s worth it. See? I got you one-,” his voice trailed off as she watched his eyes full of blues, purples, and oranges settle on both her grandfather and mother.

“Asha-,” her mother began, looking from her to the star. She cleared her throat, offering the star a polite smile. 

She could tell that her mother was trying to be polite, but unfortunately, the sentiment wasn’t shared as her grandfather frowned. “Asha, who is this?”

Oh boy.

One minute passed, then two, then three, and by this time Asha was very certain that she was cursed as she heard Valentino pleat excitedly. Unlike her, he wanted to see how this would unfold.

“Hello, ma’am!” The star said with a small wave and smile that could’ve won anyone not named Sabino or Asha over.

“Hello,” her mother replied. “You must be Asha’s friend!” She offered the star a polite smile. 

“Yes ma’am, you could say that,” the star answered while casting a glance in Asha’s direction. 

“I thought you said he was your acquisition-,” she heard Edda mumble.

“The word was acquaintance,” Asha sighed, even though she had a sinking feeling that Edda’s words hadn’t been entirely far off from the truth. 

This was such a weird situation. Why did it have to happen to her?!?

“Where are you from?” her mother suddenly asked, far more interested in the star than Asha would’ve hoped.

Please , she mentally begged him, ‘ Please don’t say anything outrageous. Please attempt to be somewhat of a normal person. Please!’ Asha knew the star could do a lot of things, but now she hoped that mind reading was one of them.

“Oh me?” the star blinked while pointing to himself, his eyes matching the pleasant colors of the passing twilight. “I fell out of the sky yesterday night, ma’am.”

NO! NO NO NO NO!

“Well at least he’s honest,” her grandfather mumbled with a shrug. 

Her mother’s brow furrowed in confusion as she looked towards the old man, “what?!”

“HA, HA HA! You’ll have to forgive him! He hit his head earlier,” Asha interjected as she lightly pushed the star away.

“Is he fine?” her mother asked, concern making its way onto her face.

Asha nodded with a nervous laugh, “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just not from around here.”

“We can tell,” her grandfather answered.

“Sabino be nice,” she heard her mother warn while still looking somewhat confused.

“And this isn’t really his first language, or second, for that matter. But that’s how they greet each other where he’s from-,”

“It’s true,” the star nodded like he wasn’t absolutely insane. “It’s the most respectful greeting one can give.”

“Interesting! So you’re passing through for the astral ball and ceremony?” her mom asked once more. 

“I am,” the star politely answered. “I even helped Asha to decorate the market!”

“So I’m guessing this was your work, then?” Her Saba asked as his cane gestured to a few scattered golden petals.

“Some of it,” the star admitted. “But a lot of people helped! So it was actually pretty fun!”

Her grandfather muttered something incoherent under his breath as she heard her mother comment, “Well if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any accommodations? 

“Accommodations?” The star repeated, looking a bit confused. 

“Yes you know,” she paused, looking a bit surprised by the star’s confusion. “someplace you’ll be staying overnight?”

“Don’t use that kind of speech with him, Sakina,” she heard her grandfather interject. “They never get it at first.” He took a step forward, this time gesturing to the star as he said, “Your family isn’t with you, right?” 

“I’m afraid not. I usually travel alone,” the star admitted. The curiosity in his eyes had changed as he watched her grandfather carefully. 

“You’re here by yourself? Where will you go after the market finishes tonight?” Her mother asked, sympathy making its way into her voice much to Asha’s dismay. Now was not the time to show the legendary Rosas hospitality! 

“I…I’m not sure,” the star admitted, glancing towards Asha as if to ask for help. “But I’ll figure something out.”

The star’s words had unknowingly hit a little too close to home for her mother as she heard her ask. “Would you like to stay with us? At least until you get yourself settled?”

Before the star could answer, Asha stepped in, grinning. “Could you please give us a moment? I just…need to talk to him about a few things! We’ll be back soon! Bye!” she called, dragging him away as she watched her mother’s expression of polite curiosity slowly intermingle with suspicion. 

As soon as she was certain she’d dragged the star from her mother and grandfather’s earshot, and into an alleyway she quietly exclaimed, “You fell out of the sky yesterday night?! WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT!”

He blinked, “It was the truth-,”

She facepalmed, “I thought I told you NOT to tell people anything crazy!”

“But I didn’t! Don’t people fall all the time? I mean someone nearly fell off one of the ladders earlier-”

“Yes but not out of the sky! WHEN THEY FALL OUT OF THE SKY THEY USUALLY DIE!” she roughly whispered, before taking a few forceful yet deep breaths to calm herself. 

Yelling at the star would get her nowhere and as much as she wanted to know why he was still here, the consequences of someone accidentally overhearing their conversation were far too dire.

So that question would have to wait until later, but for now- she needed to ask him something.

“Be honest with me,” she forced the words out. She knew that despite her uneasy tone, it sounded confrontational, but she needed to know, she deserved to know. She forced herself to meet the star’s somewhat surprised gaze, “are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to destroy me! Are you intentionally trying to destroy me?”

He blinked. “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged, “Because you’ve made my life infinitely harder as of late! So c’mon…just admit it. I’ll respect you more for it.”

“But…I’m not-, I couldn’t destroy you. Not even if I-” his eyes widened as she saw his lips press into a thin line. “No,” he shook his head. “No. I would never. I could never. There are rules to this Asha.”

“Which is?”

He leaned against the wall, not taking his eyes off of her as he replied, “We can’t harm whoever wishes on us. Regardless of intention. The consequences are quite dire, you know. Why do you think I sent the storm to stop Julian from hurting you?”

She felt herself stiffen. She hadn’t even realized that the sudden yet strange weather occurrence had been another act of the star’s power. But it had saved her. It’d given her the time she needed to disarm Julian safely. 

But it hadn’t been the only shocking thing about the star’s revelation of this rule. He couldn’t hurt her, at least not without suffering from dire consequences. 

Now that certainly changed things! Not as much as she’d like, but hey! At least she could sleep well tonight knowing that incineration by star would not be the way how she died! 

Feeling brave, she finally decided to ask him the question that had been plaguing her all evening. “Did you mean for this to happen?” 

“For what to happen?”

She took a step closer, making sure they were alone as she whispered, “For everything! For the decorations to be unsalvageable, for the head official to be too injured to continue, and to then give credit to the king- did you mean for all of this to happen?”

“I didn’t intend for the head official to get hurt,” the star answered. 

“But you intended for everything else to happen, didn’t you? Is that why you granted those specific wishes? Because you knew they could do more to benefit me?”

“I-,” he started to answer only to come to a pause as she saw his eyes focus on the alleyways entrance as her grandfather’s figure quickly came into view.

“Saba?” She asked, surprised to see him as he quickly made his way towards them. “Saba, what are you doing here?”

He huffed, abruptly turning to leave as they followed. “I could ask you the same question! Running off into dark places with boys you can’t even properly introduce to me! And in this alleyway of all places! Asha, please have some standards! That is no proper place for a murder!”

“Saba I’m not going to kill anyone- I don’t kill people! I’m telling you this is all just one massive misunderstanding! It’s not what you think!” The look in the star’s eyes told her that he hadn’t forgotten how she’d swung her sketchbook at him the night before. But that had been attempted murder, something that wouldn’t have happened if he could just stop sneaking up on her! 

Her grandfather didn’t answer as he paused, whirling around to regard the star. “You!” He pointed to the star. 

“Yes sir.”

Her Saba narrowed his eyes, “What is your name?”

“It’s Cepheus, sir.”

“Cepheus,” he repeated before shaking his head. “Unfortunate. Who are your parents?” 

“My parents?” the star repeated, looking a bit taken aback. 

“Yes! What are their names?”

“Ah, well,” the star fidgeted, glancing from the sky and then finally back to her grandfather as he answered, “their names are…Ray and Evangeline.”

To the star’s credit, those were…shockingly believable answers! Sure they didn’t impress her Saba but it was far better than hearing him say something outrageous. 

But come to think of it, did stars have parents? She’d have to ask him later as she followed her grandfather towards Mrs. Kurkaus’s stall. 

“Searching for you has been as exhausting as it has been stressful,” he stated as they stood in the now short line for ice cream. “So I think I deserve to have this.”

“Hello, Asha, Cepheus, and Mr. Sabino” Mrs. Kurkaus smiled, “How may I help you all today?”

“I’ll have three Rosas specials, please,” Asha smiled. One for herself, her mother, and then Valentino, whom she knew she owed for giving him the burden of watching the star.

“Alright, and what would you like?” Mr. Kurkaus asked the star. “The same as last time?”

“Yes please,” he nodded. 

“And you, Mr. Sabino?”

“I’ll take a nice helping of your finest non-royally themed delicacies,” he stated, before placing a few golden coins on the counter of the stall. Mrs. Kurkaus laughed, nervously glancing towards the king who thankfully was a bit too busy playing against the queen and several noblemen in spellicans to notice. 

“Heh…Coming right up!” she hummed, before handing them all their treats in record time. 

Soon, they’d seated themselves by the fountain, enjoying their treats as Asha glanced at the somewhat empty side of the market. “Where’s Mom?” 

“Talking with some of her clients,” her grandfather answered before taking another helping of his ice cream. “You know how those nobles get around this time of the month. Everyone’s gotta look good for something.”

“That’s good for business though, isn’t it? It’s what keeps the economy going. Even you can’t refute that Saba.”

He scoffs, readjusting his grip on his cane as she hears him say, “Don’t tempt me. You know I can be very unreasonable when I want to be.” 

She grinned, against her better judgment as she placed Valentino’s ice cream on the ground for him to eat. She could always count on her grandfather to have some sort of answer, no matter how ridiculous they usually were.

“BLLLEAAATTTT” she paused, hearing the sound of a distant explosion as the sky illuminated in a brilliant display of lights and colors as the crowd watched. The king must’ve been enjoying himself if he were using his magic to conjure fireworks outside of a ball or ceremony. 

She could only imagine how good he felt now taking credit for wishes he didn’t grant to earn.

“What’s that?” The star asked, looking at the sky curiously. 

“Fireworks,” she replied in between bites while she watched Valentino practically devour his ice cream. “Sometimes we have those at big celebrations…” she paused taking in the star’s expectant expression. “what?”

“Oh nothing,” he shrugged. “I was just expecting to hear your whole science spiel on how they work. And how it’s not magic. Can’t forget the anti-magic attitude!”

She grunted, not in the mood to give magic nor the star any sort of positive acknowledgment as she finished the last bit of her ice cream. 

Her grandfather scoffed, eyes rolling as she watched him turn away from the fireworks, muttering “Illusions. Distractions. That’s all they are…don’t be fooled.”  After a moment or so of fidgeting, he finally settled to his feet muttering something along the lines of “I’ll be back soon,” before walking off towards a group of less than friendly-looking individuals, aka mercenaries. 

She only hoped they weren’t working.

“Ay Sabino!” she heard one call as the group caught sight of her approaching grandfather. 

Someday she’d have to have a talk with her grandfather about his associates from his days before his retirement. Someday.

“Your king seems quite popular,” she heard the star call rather thoughtfully as he examined the crowd. “And it’s not hard to see why. He can grant wishes, can’t he? And that’s what he did today,” The star smiled as he turned towards her. “So It’s best to let a king enjoy himself, especially on a day he'll have to remember favorably. It’d be foolish for him to do otherwise to ruin such a day, don't you agree Asha?” 

She hesitated. 

To do otherwise? She hadn’t gotten what the star had meant at first, but when she heard the crowd cheer for his fireworks it clicked. 

The king couldn’t backtrack his statement of granting those wishes. Even if he’d done a thorough investigation into the matter, he could never release the truth. He could never let anyone know the truth, not unless he wanted to look like a liar. 

No wonder the officials and Mrs. Chidera had seemed so relieved. There was a good chance he’d call off any investigations if he claimed responsibility which was a benefit for all of them. Most Investigations usually cost money and in worst-case scenarios, reputations or jobs.

But it seemed as if she was safe…for now.

“Careful,” Hal’s voice whispered. “Careful-,” The crowded stall fell silent. Hal had worked her way through the market effectively crushing, conquering and destroying everyone in sack toss, which had left her with only one remaining challenger- the champion himself. 

He’d put up an admirable fight, leaving the two locked in a strenuous tie, as Hal was left with the final sack. 

“It’s not too late to retreat,” she heard him whisper. “I’ll respect you for it.”

“Keep your respect,” she called back. “I’m going for the gold!” She readjusted her position before tossing the sack, all anxiously watched as the small sack sailed through the air and perfectly into the furthest hole, breaking the tie.

“We have a new champion!” the stall owner called, more than happy to collect the money that people had betted against Hal. 

“WOOOOHOOOO!” Dario yelled as the teens cheered, all congratulating Hal as she took what must’ve been her twentieth stuffed toy that evening. 

“Congratulations Hal!” Safi said. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks,” Hal grinned, turning to the champion as he shook her hand. “Good game.”

“Good game,” he repeated with a courteous bow. “It was an honor, Senorita Hal. But it certainly won’t be the end.”

“Noted. I’m always up for a rematch,” she answered as the crowd around the stall began to disperse. “Well that was fun,” she sighed, turning to her companions as they ventured toward the more private parts of the market. “So what do you guys think we should do next?”

“We could do the baking competitions,” Safi sniffled, as he tossed a few bread crumbs to some birds. 

“I know Dahlia would love that,” Hal grinned, looking at her friend.

Dahlia shook her head, not returning the smile. “No, no. I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dario asked as she watched him begin to take a few bites from his ice cream.  “Everyone knows you’re like the best baker ever.”

“I know,” Dahlia nodded. “So it wouldn’t be fair to just destroy the competition like that. You have to give everyone a chance to shine.”

“We could be the judges,” Hal suggested. “I heard one of them had to drop out after trying one of the mona de Pasqua’s the official’s apprentice made. It got really nasty.”

“Ugh,” Dahlia grimaced. “Thanks but no thanks… Pastries that are baked with more stress than sugar are pastries that are not worth sharing,” she stepped past them, leaning against an empty stall as the three teens exchanged glances.

“You’re still waiting for Bazeema aren’t you?” Hal asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

Dahlia shook her head, frustration slowly making its way into her voice, “She should’ve been back by now! I mean we all heard Asha when she said that she’d completed all of her tasks! I’m not crazy!”

“What does Bazeema have to do with Asha’s tasks?” Dario asked, earning a pointed glance before nodding, “Oh right!  The secret mission. You’re talking about Bazeema’s secret mission. The secret mission we all chose to give to Bazeema. That mission?”

“Yes Dario, that one!” Dahlia sighed before rubbing her face. 

“The secret mission for Nachos!” Dario whispered, before taking another hearty helping of his ice cream.

“Emphasis on the secret part,” Dahlia added.

“I can’t believe she found him in less than a day,” Safi sniffed. 

“I told you she could do it,” Hal shrugged as she crossed her arms.

“But she did it so fast- and by herself! How is that even possible?! I mean for her to go to you-know-where and back in time to decorate an entire market- it just doesn’t make sense! What?! Did she fly there!?” Safi exclaimed before sneezing as one of Ana’s birds chirped. “Thanks,” he sniffled, as he withdrew a tissue from his pocket. 

“It’s Asha, so it’s best not to think about it,” Dario suggested, taking in the surprised looks of his friends. “What?” he shrugged, “she’s scary! We know this!”

“I wouldn’t call her scary, but her grandfather…he has a whole sharpened broadsword in his cabinet,” Hal blinked in disbelief as if she couldn’t believe her own words. 

“Well…He wasn’t the captain of the guards for nothing.” Dahlia sighed, as the remaining apprentices, a small pause filling the space before they heard the screams of fireworks overhead.

“Fireworks? Seems like he’s in a good mood tonight,” Dahlia blinked as she adjusted her glasses.

Safi wiped his nose, “No surprises there, I mean did you see him when the crowd started cheering? He’ll have to pass a royal decree to make the doorposts higher from how much his head was swelling!” 

The teens laughed, watching in silence as a few more fireworks exploded before Dario whispered “Hey, just between the four of us…since the king is in such a good mood right now, do you think he’d grant my wish too?”

Hal laughed, “To quote the king- Not a chance,”

“Nope,” Dahlia shook her head. 

“Not in a million years!” Safi exclaimed. “Besides he probably didn’t even grant those wishes to begin with.”

“What?” Dario blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?!”

“C’mon,” Hal leaned against the stall, looking around to ensure they were truly alone before she continued. “We were with his highness all day, Dario. If he did something, there was no way we wouldn’t have seen it!”

Dario deflated, “Ah, you’ve got a point….”

“And besides,” Hal shrugged. “The most wishes he grants when he’s feeling generous is 15, and that’s over a whole year. There were at least four wishes granted today, which is more or less equal to what he normally grants in a third of the year. You want me to believe that he’d outdo himself randomly today of all days and here of all places?”

“C’mon Hal,” Dahlia frowned. 

“Sorry! I mean, let’s be honest, if he were to go splurging with the wish-granting, don’t you think he’d do it to his favored members of the court? Just to keep favor, and all those politics.”

“Fair enough, but if the king didn’t grant those wishes…who did?”

A strange silence fell over the group as the teens exchanged glances with each other. 

“Maybe-,” Safi began, pausing as they heard the sound of galloping hoofs heading towards them. 

“Someone’s coming!” Hal whispered, as the teens scattered, just as a horse came into view, its rider pulling on the reigns, bringing the horse to an abrupt halt. It was hard to see the figure’s face that was shrouded underneath their dark cloak as Dahlia’s eyes darted past them and to the familiar figure who was mounted behind them. 

“Bazeema!” Safi cried.

“Hi!” Bazeema squeaked as the horse calmed. “Sorry it took me so long,” she whispered as the figure dismounted the horse, before offering her a hand down. “Thanks,” she smiled, dismounting as the teens quickly surrounded her and the figure. 

“Nachos?” Dario called, as the figure paused, looking towards him. “Nachos!” he yelled running towards the figure with outstretched arms. The figure stepped forward ready to receive him, only for Dario to run past him.

“So close,” the figure sighed, as Dario ran out of the alleyway. 

“Ignacio…” Dahlia began, her voice quiet as she squinted. “Is that you?”

“In the flesh! And I come with gifts!” he replied as he pulled his hood back, and smiled, holding his arms out, as Hal, Safi, and Bazeema embraced him.

“It took you long enough, Your Highness,” Dahlia huffed, crossing her arms. 

“Sorry! It took me forever to lose the guards my Tio sent for me. You know I’m on a tight leash here.”

“Right, right, I nearly forgot about that” She nodded, taking in his expectant gaze. “What?”

“You didn’t join the group hug-,”

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” he snapped. “I didn’t get banished for three years just for you to miss out on group hugs.”

Dahlia sighed, grabbing her crutch as she made her way over to her friends, and embraced them. Admittedly being together did feel nice, especially when she’d thought it would never happen again. “There. Is that better?” she asked. 

“Much better,” he smiled, before releasing them as Dario made his way back to them, receiving his own hug from the prince.

“I missed you Nachos!” Dario cried before releasing the prince. 

“I missed you too!” Ignacio replied. “All of you.”

“You got super tall!” Hal exclaimed.

He grinned, shrugging, “What can I say? It’s in the genes, right next to the magic-,”

“Speaking of magic, did you hear about the wishes that were granted today?” Dahlia asked. 

“No?” he shook his head, confusion lacing his tone as he asked, “Wishes were granted?”

Hal nodded. “Yeah- I overheard some of the maintainers talking. They said six wishes were granted in the market today. One went haywire.”

“Haywire?” Dario asked.

“Yeah. Some kid named Julian tried to burn the place down.”

“Julian?” Ignacio repeated, as his face paled. “Julian?!”

“Yeah. I think that’s what they said. He was stopped by a storm and Asha. Hey Dahlia, do you know this Julian guy?”

“Somewhat,” she confessed. “He was the son of one of the most influential noblemen in these parts a while back, I think. I only remember hearing about him recently because of all his familial problems. Is something wrong Ignacio?”

The prince let out a small yet uneasy laugh, “No! No, everything is fine! I was just wondering if any of you knew where he is now?”

Hal shook her head, “they didn’t say. The whole thing is under lock and key now. The officials and maintainers wanted to do an investigation, but it got called off.”

“Called off? Who’d call something like that off?!”

“The king,” Hal answered, gesturing to the man who was still amusing his subjects. “But on the bright side now someone can fly, and manipulate a snow cloud and a rain cloud!”

“It’s how we got this!” Dario called as he held up his ice cream. “Seriously! You need to try one of these things! It’s better than flan!”

“Ok, let’s not get hasty now,” Ignacio laughed. “Nothing is better than flan. Except for maybe more flan. Made by a certain someone-.” he glanced towards Dahlia.

“If that’s your way of asking me for some flan then it’s not happening,” Dahlia answered.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he sighed with a small shrug, before looking the small group over as another explosive firework from overhead illuminated them.

“THANK YOU PEOPLE OF ROSAS!” The king’s voice boomed, as the teens all turned to watch him as the crowd cheered at the final firework. “It’s been a true pleasure being with you all tonight!”

“Have you spoken to him?” Dahlia asked, glancing from the king to the prince.

“Not yet,” he answered, slowly clenching his jaw as he looked them over. “Where’s Asha?”

“Not sure. I don’t think the king invited her to hang out with us,” Hal shrugged, as Safi glanced around. 

Ignacio frowned. “She really decorated the market and he didn’t ask for her to show him around?” 

Safi coughed, as Hal fidgeted, no one wanted to answer the prince’s question as Bazeema stepped forward, softly stating, “Last I saw of her, she was with her mother and grandfather.” 

“Really?” asked Dario before he took another bite of his ice cream. “Because that doesn’t look like her mom or grandpa to me-,” he stated before pointing to the other side of the market where Asha’s figure came into view, trying to pass through the outskirts of the crowd, when a second hooded figure appeared.

“Who is that?!” Hal exclaimed, watching as the figure seemingly drew the attention of a few women towards himself. 

“It’s…it’s a boy,” Dahlia repeated in disbelief. “And her grandfather didn’t kill him yet?”

“We truly are living in strange times,” Safi sniffled as the figure continued after her. 

“Why are you asking about Asha anyway?” Bazeema whispered, her voice quietly wavering as the others frowned and looked toward the prince.

He shrugged, “I heard the innkeeper say something about Asha needing some male clothes this morning after she bought a room for two…so I was just curious. That’s all.”

His friends, save for Dahlia let out a sigh of relief, as he watched Dario devour another scoop of his ice cream before wailing “No! I’m almost out!”

“We can always go get some more,” Safi offered, before turning to Ignacio. “You haven’t tried this have you?” 

The prince shook his head, “No not yet. I was thinking of doing so earlier, but the lines were atrocious”

“You might have better luck now, Nacho,” Dahlia pointed out. “Because everyone’s so distracted with the king and his fireworks, the lines should be very short now.”

“Well then! What are we waiting for?” Hal grinned. “I’ll buy!”

“Really?” Ignacio furrowed a brow towards her. “You’d really buy something for a prince?”

“Only because I’m Hamlet’s Sack toss champion,” she beamed. 

“You know Mrs. Kurkaus is making a fortune off of these things,” Dahlia commented as the teens began to move toward the more crowded parts of the market. 

“Definitely. Hey, have you ever thought about combining your cookies with her ice cream?” Ignacio asked.

“Cookies and ice cream?” Dahlia repeated. “You think it’ll work?”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Ignacio called, with a shrug as they all made their way towards the ice cream stall.

Had they lingered where they were for a bit longer, they probably would’ve seen when the king had begun to make his way through the crowd, proudly taking in the words of praise and adoration from his surrounding subjects as he neared the stables.

The night had been a success. 

Granted he had a few…issues to attend to, but overall, the day had gone splendidly well. 

Anyone who was there could have told you that, but where the story falters is what happened afterward.

Everyone remembers the king making his way through the crowd, but very few remember the hooded figure passing him. Anyone who saw it would’ve told you that the figure most likely was a young male, not any older than eighteen who’d stopped to speak to a few noble girls before resuming his trek after someone. 

But what they wouldn’t have told you was how said figure walked past the king, with neither party touching nor sparing the simplest of glances toward the other. From an outsider’s point of view, it’d been nothing more than the king showing comfort in the proximity of his subjects, or at least that’s what it would have been if both parties hadn’t come to a complete halt in the middle of the market.

Only the queen would see her husband’s grip on his staff tighten. “Amor?” she called out, eyes narrowing with concern, as the king took one breath. 

Then two. 

Then three, before suddenly turning around with such force that the audience gasped. Magic flew from his fingers into the ground, snaking along the cobblestones until they reached the fountain, elegantly freezing the water into two sharply angled pristine figures.

“A parting gift for your hospitality!”  the now laughing king called to the startled crowd as they slowly began to clap, all oblivious to the sharpness in the man’s teal-colored eyes as he looked through the crowd. 

His eyes landed on the spot where the figure should’ve been or rather would’ve been, but now, it was empty, leaving behind no trace of its former occupant. 

[thedreadvampy]

ARRGHGGGG ordered 2 burritos

didn't want to go to this place. they're a bit meh. but they're somehow the only place other than the barburrito chain in the entire city of Edinburgh that offers carnitas. and my partner wanted carnitas. so ok we go here.

wait an hour

burrito man cometh!

check the bag

one burrito

call down the stairs "hey there only one burrito here" he's like "call justeat about it byeeeee"

justeat do not have a customer service number so I go ok I will call the restaurant

first. where is the restaurant based. oh it's a fucking ghost kitchen at where? Shit Chain Restaurant BarBurrito

call them. they say "oh hey sorry about that. we can make you another one if you call JustEat."

I go, submit a complaint to JustEat, get a message saying "we will respond in 3-5 days"

call back the restaurant say hey it's fucking impossible to call just eat. can you please just give me my fucking burrito it is 10pm on a Saturday night I'm hungry I'm just skip my fucking dinner will I?

quote, "we can't take responsibility for food once it's left the restaurant"

I'm like uh ok. It's in a sealed bag. It's not the courier's fucking fault you forgot to put half the order in that sealed bag. and what? I can't complain about the order if it's left the restaurant? I'm not standing over your fucking shoulder watching you make it, I don't KNOW about the order until it's left the restaurant. this is pretty clearly on your team.

whatever. I have hung up. I am currently making myself a rage toastie. didn't want your shitey wee burrito anyway literally only ordered from here to be nice to my partner. I am FUMIN.

[libidomechanica]

His delight occasionally this: hath looks taught this still pursues

At sixteen she washen clear the     shepherd. Moments her backache after due search, a blushing     means a few grave the first

the moon-tints of moan and my breaks     passioned brought thee any of his virtue dignity,     the mountain when spoke not,

though heroic salamander,     we were blood be then Iphigene I claim. That follows bare     heaven and water. I

thanks one more, still resign’d. Like wealthy,     with our heroines of keen Indian friends—as thus     we meet: yea, I should be

doubly name. But since I am,     and then in rhymers incense. Last night; today is as a     bittour bumps with insomnia,

perfume. If it cometh     up from these confined to the queen and claspt with his name, though     the bridled, and the tortured

ever crimes away twould give     year. Stare: the questions fine; but like a globe, yearning they hire:     my prospect he wander’d,

cabin’d, so intense she, death of     woe; studying Gladiator’s art which most unregeneral     acts are a mistress,

and show and tends upon earth     we are to serve the first do blow. His delight occasionally     this: hath looks taught this

still pursues! Oh, yes, lest I am,     and eke the think a very well; all creatures and waters,     an’ she had more. Seeking:

the new Venus, but what kind     of a pieces of their day; the trophies—not of silver     when their life as with his

own: but when young. To fix the dolour     of regency ghouls. I thank all we can be. Being     dumb; for feelings, I put

in vogue has virgin marble for     best in the king: thaw this lovers, to cold, with thee thousand     like. Sets the shows the last:

if it’s not with pains its dose;—hers     wake, and such fire, and let thy fate, an airy instant more     informed, that … felt an

innocent and if I shifting back,     the slick-faced. But no one hurt exclaim How fair Acceptance     of love; there before white

bitches, than going to women     what you get up each out of that lace, makes to behold, his     hand, and swell of twelve yards

off, or reproach. That lay broad stay’d     at dawn and moral Washington of noble race, that true     blood townes be led; here these

blenches, when with herself, in     happiest of purpled, spiking back to resumed with a     roysterious, just come, song after

I am old and shield, which     slays esteem and given vp for plants in one simple in     the body—I lookt other

to me, darling, that eternal     feast; she there, by cool and all as man that living letter’d     Houses—and, Behold!

[shammah8]

Prayer Intimidator #3 The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.

I confess that this was a major prayer intimidator to me. You see, I am a fairly unemotional person. Therefore, except when the Lord moves mightily on me, it is difficult for me to pray fervently.

And what does James 5:17-18, say? It says that it’s fervent prayer that counts! Right? Wrong!

In fact, the New International Version says, “The prayer of a righteous man (or woman) is powerful and effective.” My favorite treatment of this verse is the International Children’s Version of the New Testament, which says, “When a good man (or woman) prays, great things happen!”

Also, 1 Peter 3:12 says, “For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers . . .” Christian, it’s really not that complicated. I repeat: it is not so much the fervency of our praying, but the righteousness of our living that catches the ear of God and provokes Him to answer. And it is God who makes us righteous! (2 Corinthians 5:21) Now God loves fervent people. There are many fervent people in the Body of Christ. I’ve noticed that intercessors, those whose primary ministry is prayer, tend to be rather fervent. In fact, many people refer to the intercessor-prophet Jeremiah as “the weeping prophet.” He’s the one who said, “Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people” (Jeremiah 9:1). Now that is fervent!

However as a side note, Jeremiah’s concern wasn’t that he was weeping, but that he wasn’t weeping. In fact, although he may have wept many times, we don’t find any reference to Jeremiahactually shedding a tear. Nevertheless, he was fervent.

Don’t get me wrong. God loves tears! Most of us are familiar with Psalm 126:5, “They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.”

Amazingly, according to Psalm 56:8 God puts our tears into a bottle and records them in a book! In 2 Kings 20:5, Isaiah told King Hezekiah who was sick, “Thus saith the LORD, the God of David thy father, I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee.” Yes, as the late songwriter Dottie Rambo wrote, Tears Are A Language God Understands.

Life is not a rose garden. There certainly are pressing times and issues that we will all face that will bring us to tears. The writer of Hebrews describes Jesus’ praying in the garden when facing the cross. “While Jesus lived on earth, he prayed to God and asked God for help. He prayed with loud cries and tears to the One who could save him from death. And his prayer was heard because he left it all up to God” (Hebrews 5:7, ICB). Notice, Jesus was heard because He left it all up to God.

Yes, tears communicate our soul’s sincerity to God. But they aren’t to be a bargaining chip we use to wrestle things from a reluctant God. He is more than willing to keep His promises to us.

So, the Father is not only looking for fervent men and women, He is looking for faithful men and women! (Ezekiel 22:30) The Bible confirms that He’s not as moved by our tears as by our faith.

(Matthew 9:2, 22, 29; 15:28; 17:20) Look at this Scripture. “But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him” (Hebrews 11:6).☕️Eddie Smith

[echantedtoon]

Rules Of One's Soul Ch19 Date P3

He barely remembered the rest of that night, it was just a blur of Jevil smothering him in love and affection until the Rudinn left and hadn't stopped even when the loon noticed he did. But he eventually stopped and giggled at how flustered and embarrassed the worm was, too angry to sputter anything out other than "WORM!", making him laugh more. Thankfully he did leave, but not before giving a sly wink to the already melting man. Oh! How he was going to scold him a new one when he showed up tomorrow...

Except. He didn't show up the next day.

Rouxls had woken up from another dreamless slumber, odd he's been having those a lot lately, without the banging on his door, or the shaking him awake, or the shock of someone coming in while he was sleeping. But considering Jevil could teleport and Seam could teleport furniture it wouldn't stop either of them most likely, and especially liked to point out cruel loopholes of his logic that had nothing to do with the rules. But at least his lock was fixed so intruders no longer stole anything from his home. Thank goodness. But it didn't explain the silence he felt when he woke up and found no one there, he found it a relief but also strange. So he went through his usual morning routine of his morning beauty process, and opened up his shop for business. Flipping the sign open and unlocking the newly installed lock with a satisfying click. He was sure the moment he sat down behind the counter, that Jevil or Seam would stroll through the door any minute now that the shoppe was open.....But none came. The silence was a refreshing change of pace for him at least, but he looked over his shoulder every so often out of habit. But there was no yellow eyed smile there, which was odd. He tried busying himself with small things around the shoppe. Shifting through the two giant bins of 'darke candy', and shifting about any other small items he thought looked out of place-.....And suddenly noticing that some of his diamonds and other precious stones were missing from the display case under the counter. He scowled and made a mental note of asking Seam about it later.

But absolutely no one came in today.

...Ok. Not a big deal. Jevil was probably busy with his job back and Seam had a shop and child of his own to take care of. But he naturally couldn't help but be a bit suspicious and paranoid about this, old habits. The next day-...Haled the same results. He woke up without any other spooks and all alone like the night before....Ok. This was alright. He felt more curious than paranoid this time but his suspicions never went away. After a few silent hours of just sitting there in anticipation waiting for something to happen, he threw his hands up in defeat and stood from his comfy stool. In just a few moments, he was already flipping the closed sign in the window and marching his way down the path towards the Sheap just down the road. It's not like he was being over anxious or anything- He just happened to remember he still needed to return Seam's old burlap sack, yeah. That was it.

The old doll was waiting for him when he walked in. His already tired and smile became just a bit wider upon seeing the figure of the Worm duke peel back the flap door and stick his confused face in. "Welcome, Duke. What brings you to my humble home today?"

The worm gave a quick glance around the sheap and tilted sideways to glance around the cat and into his room in the back, just to see no one. His eyes blinked back to the ever patient cat who was smiling at him. "I..uh...*Ahem*" He straightened up and held a hand out holding the old sack. "I have cometh to return thine satchel. I-I haveth no need for it anymore."

Seam slowly held his hand out and grabbed the bag from the duke and dragged it under the counter before smiling back up to Rouxls. "Thank you, Friend. I was wondering where it had went." Rouxls made a hum and gave another look around the sheap, Seam tilted his head at his silence, "I take it you're looking for something as well? Perhaps I can help you find it."

"...Perhaps thou might." He turned his eyes back to him. "Where tis thine comical c-companion?"

"Oh, Jevil?" Rouxls didn't seem to flinch or anything at the name this time. Good. He shrugged. "At work most likely. If memory serves me right, King Hearts has been going over a few surprises for the big celebration next...week I think. And of course that promise to help watch out for the young King he made to you. But-..." He button eye spun as his one good eye looked him over. "Hehehe. He did mention wanting to let you relax a few days of your vacation before you go back next week."

Rouxls blinked...and stared confused at the smiling feline in front of him. "...Next week?"

He chuckled. "Well it's been six days counting today. I could've sworn you're break was ten days. Or not, I might be miscounting in my old age."

Rouxls's eyes widened slightly as he stared at the cat. A-All of this....EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED!! Had happened within a span of six days?! It felt like a lifetime! He stumbled and had to grab onto the counter to keep from falling, Seam quickly reaching his arm out to catch the worm's shoulder and staring at his dumbfounded look with concern.

"Whoa there, Friend. Are you alright?"

"I-I-..." Rouxls blinked and shook his head, "Y-Yes. I just hadst...n-no clue how long I-it hast been."

Seam slowly leaned him back onto his feet and gave a smile. "Well I think we all have been a little distracted the last few days. It's perfectly understandable to lose track of time. "

"B-B-But...How waseth I not able to notice thine time? I amst always on top of thine schedules!" He gave Seam a disbelieving look. "How couldst I not know about this?"

Seam hummed before pointing at him. "Perhaps your mind and body really did know how much you needed this break?" A paw was placed onto his shoulder and gave a few reassuring pats. "Don't worry about anything right now. Heed my words and rest, Dear Duke."

The walk back home was filled with him scolding himself for not being on top of the time, and beating himself up over how Lancer must've been so lost without him to help him right now. I mean who else would know just how to make him fried worms and meatballs he loved so much? Or read him his favorite Hide and Seek with Fluffy Bunny book before bedtime? Or helped him with running his part of the kingdom?! .....Or keep him from the dungeon? O-Or be his father...Surely no one was more qualified than him right? He's been there from the very beginning and certainly going to be there until his end. ....But he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he was curious about this whole 'plan' Jevil had put together. Oh he better had been keeping his word about Lancer this entire time. If he found so much as a hair misplaced on his fuzzy little head, he'd be sent back to the dungeon faster than you could say 'Chaos'.

The rest of the day had been pretty quiet as well. Not so much as a guard stopping in and saying hi. Wow. It really had been a while if he wasn't used to the usual quiet of his shoppe. He decided he might as well heed Seam's words and 'relax' as everyone kept telling him. So the very next day he decided to do just that, still woke up fairly early out of habit, but his body was strangely more...less tired? If that even made any sense. Perhaps everyone was right. Maybe he did need a rest- Those thought were quickly shaken away and replaced with 'Well, If I really need a break then I could've just easily taken one at anytime if I wanted too. Lancer still needs me.' 'Yeah, well considering nothing tramatic has happened that says a lot about your boy huh?' 'Oh shut up!' 'What Jevil said about giving him some room from you was probably true, but you keep denying his truth. Just like you keep denying your feeli-"

"Ok. That tis enough self monologue this morning!" He quickly escaped the warmth of his bed and stood up. Time to start the day.

During the next two days, the shoppe was filled with relaxing music played from a small record player in the corner, it's owner sitting behind the counter knitting away or rereading his calligraphy books on poetry, some he might've written himself and wasn't too bad. If he said so himself, who could write poetry better than him?~....King Hearts but that's besides the point. He still looked over his shoulder every so while but that was just force of habit. Speaking of habits, he tried really hard not to think of Lancer or the eventual 'date' he accidentally agreed to with Jevil. The endless possibilities of what that little loony would do made him shiver, hopefully he'll be more aware of his own boundaries.

The third day was his next to last one for break if he remembered right, oh he could taste the sweet relief of seeing his sweet little boy again. His smile and giggles were to absolutely to die for. The thought made him get into a better mood, momentarily making him forget any worries and putting him into a better mood. The one guard who finally came in had the pleasure of having a smiling duke winking at him. Sold a good few diamonds and dark candy that day. But he didn't expect the next morning to be filled with his head pounding from a headache. So groaning and tossing his head under the pillow seemed a good way to start his morning.

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!!

Grumbling, a blue face surrounded by white mess bedhead rose from under the comfy pillow and blinked tiredly. How..What was- More knocking sounds came from the other side of the shoppe and he lazily turned his gaze in that direction. It sounded like a bloody rabbick was knocking it's way around outside. Wouldn't be the first time those little rodents tried to break into his food supply. So with a grumble and annoyed look, the worm forced himself out of the comfy warm bed and onto the cold floor. Shuffling his way over towards the door, the knocking was still coming on strong and it was starting to get annoying.

"Alrighteth! I amst coming. Keepest thineself down." The knocking seemed to halt from his shout and was silent as he reached his hand around the doorknob and pulled the door open. ...The sight before him wasn't what he was expecting.

"Why hello, hello.~" A familiar smile and yellow eyes peered up at him from the ground. Long tail wagging behind him. The faint smell of candy came at him full force and dull purple and red suddenly flashed across his vision. "Hehe. For you, you.~"

Rouxls had to blink and take a step back to take a good look at the smaller man in front of him. ..He still half believed he was asleep by what he saw. Jevil The Jester....Wasn't wearing any jester outfit as per the norm. Instead his body was adorned with a purple suit with a comically large orange bow, and same clown shoes. His hand was holding up a couple small tree branches, covered in small dark black flowers that would've been candies soon if Jevil hadn't broken them off the branch. They were all tied together by a small red ribbon tied in a bow. Jevil was standing there with a beaming smile and seemed to be waiting for his reaction.

He slowly blinked and looked at the strange bouqet of branches in front of him. It shook a bit when Jevil pressed it a little closer to him, he slowly brought his hand up and lightly grabbed it from him. He gave it a confused look over, a few leaves falling from the twigs. "Um....Thank thee."

Jevil's tail wagged a little faster and he let out a couple more giggles before looking back up at him. "Are you ready, ready?"

"Ready...for what?"

"Our date, date silly, silly Rouxls.~"

Rouxls full on stopped and stared dumbfounded at the smaller man. One could see the wheels turning in his tired mind before his eyes widened and his brain finally snapped back like a rubber band to reality. "THAT'S TODAY!! R-RIGHT NOW!?"

Jevil giggled and reached a claw over to gently poke Rouxls's pajama pants. "I see you're late, late. Did you forget?"

"NO!...*Ahem*" He quickly stood back up and cleared his throat. "O-Of courseth not! I nay forgot about this event. I just...w-wasn't expecting thou to arrive so soon...*sigh* Cometh in and wipe thou's feet." The duke turned and trudged back into the shop and in followed the bouncy happy purple menace behind him. The bell dinging as the door closed behind them. The tree branches were placed onto the counter as the tired worm walked around it and gave Jevil one last look before disappearing into the back. "Wait here please."

He egerly nodded and watched him disappear behind the curtain before chuckling to himself. PERFECT!! Part one of his plan was already complete! He got Rouxls to agree with his idea and he had already accepted his token of his affections. Now the next step was to wow him of course! And he had plenty of practice from the plays he and Seam used to script together and perform for the Kings! Just take some of those old romance scenes and play them into real life. Genius right? OH! Seam wouldn't stand a chance against him now! Because he had a secret weapon on his side in the form of a very round boy and the very hopeless romantic that was the King of Hearts! The boy provided the game stats on the Duke and his majesty gladly gave him all the romantic advice he could give for his help in the ball restorations. Everything Seam didn't even know about Rouxls.

Now all he had to do was just keep his cool and keep this plan on track. After all. HE COULD DO ANYTHING!!

His head snapped up towards the curtain as it flapped open again and the worm appeared in all his suited up glory, making Jevil's tail wag out in glee.

"*sigh* Showest me what thou has planned for me today, Worm."

[talonabraxas]

Khonsu 🌕 Talon Abraxas Khonsu is one of the most ancient Egyptian Gods of the Moon. His name means traveler reflecting the fact that the Moon travels across the night sky. Khonsu is also known as the Embracer, Pathfinder, and Defender, as he would watch over those who travel at night. On the night of the full moon, pray to Khonsu: A Hymn to Khonsu Hail unto thee, O Messenger of the Gods! Khonsu, the traveler of the night sky, Who traveleth through the heaven like Thoth. Mut-Bast is thy mother And Amen-Ra-Temu-Kephra is thy father, Thou makest women fruitful, And makest the human germ to grow in thy mothers womb. Thou art the Moon, the light -bearer, The moon by night, and the lord of Ma’at. Thou art great and mighty oh Moon God, Khonsu, messenger of the Great Gods, Traveler of the night sky in the form of the Moon. Thou art a child in the morning, an old man in the evening, a youth in the beginning of the year who cometh as a child after he becometh infirm, who reneweth his births like the disk. Thou art the Great God, the Lord of Heaven, Lord of Gods, Khonsu-Nefer-Hetep-Tehuti, Lord of Annu, Lord of rest, Chief Mabi, Peace, peace, O Gracious One, Who art peace, and who love peace. Thou art the Great God, Khonsu, the Mighty, who cometh forth from Nut. Thou art the sun at sunrise and the moon. Thou art Khonsu the chronographer, who holdest the stylus in thy right hand. Thou art Khonsu-Nefer-Hetep who hast absolute power over all evil spirits which infest the earth, air, sea, and sky. Protect us from pain, sickness, and disease. Protect us from decay, madness, and death. We invoke thee. Show us thy Wisdom. Thou makest the plants to grow and the fruit to ripen, and animals to conceive. Thou whom the Gods adore. Thou art the God of love whom men and women adore. Thou art Healer and Powerful in Magic! Protect us! Accept our offerings, O Great Moon -God Khonsu, who lives forever.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Is there any chance we could have a round up of the Circus? I am so lost on how the dominoes fell over the last 40 days

Okay this is not comprehensive, because (a) my husband the politics nerd is currently on his way to a gig in west Wales somewhere and so cannot chime in and also (b) all our political journalist friends are understandably quite busy right now doing political journaling, but I seem to have an influx of new followers who are also very confused and don't understand what's going on, so I shall try.

Alright so what we're seeing here is the Second Clownfall of 2022, the hotly anticipated sequel to the Adventures of Big Dog the Clown. However it revolves around the character of Liz Truss, and will use some terminology, so

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor's Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

...okay I think that's everything. On with the show!

The Premiership of Liz Truss (2022-2022)

Week One

We begin our tale on September 5th, 2022. Coincidentally, that was also the date that I personally started my new job. Let's see which of us does better!

The Daily Mail is delighted, and runs a headline proclaiming "Cometh the hour, cometh the woman". Tory rag in a frock coat the Financial Times runs an op-ed:

So the results ARE IN! She will definitely fuck us up! But that's a good thing for vague reasons! Blitz spirit everyone. Tally ho, pip pip, shoot a servant and have sex with a wall, hey what. Good old Blighty.

(That's my best impression of Tories I'm good at their accents I hope you like it)

Truss does an interview with Laura Kuenssberg, and fellow guest and comedian Joe Lycett wildly and effusively applauds her every word. Even Liz realises no one would sincerely applaud her. Bafflingly, the entire right wing press and every member of the Tory party freak out about this, because they don't understand the function of a satirist and don't know how to defend against it. It is extremely funny. Joe Lycett announces he's a right-wing comedian now, and begins a new extended career bit effusively and sarcastically praising right wing politicians. They all cry extensively and call him mean.

SO, it's been a long hard leadership campaign! But she made it. For years, Tories have been blighted by the curse of the PM/Chancellor relationship, backstabbing and cheating and lying about each other to try and get power. But not our Liz, oh no; her Chancellor is Maths Mate and BFF Kwasi Kwarteng, an insipid and poisonous gnome known for three (3) things:

He once wrote a stupid book with Liz Truss about his stupid opinions on how he thinks economics work and everyone laughed at him and stuffed him in a locker

On the night of the Brexit vote he was overheard by a journalist gleefully saying “Who cares if sterling crashes? It will come back up again“ which are of course the words of a man who knows all about economics and how they work

This fucking bullshit back in July:

But hey IT'S OKAY! Everything is fine! Because Liz and Kwasi are BFFs who certainly never had an affair and are marching in lockstep and have each other's backs and both love maths more than their own children if they had any! Maths Friends!

Multiple resignations immediately follow.

Among them is Ben Elliot, the Tory Party chair, which is a pretty big deal from a man who just lived through the Johnson years; also, shockingly, Priti Patel, the deportation-happy Home Secretary, decides that even as an animatronic goblin she cannot support this nonsense.

It's not a resignation per se, but at ten to seven in the evening it's announced that Andrew Bridgen, the Troy MP for Leicestershire North West, has been evicted from his home and ordered to pay £800,000 in legal costs, and a possible £244,000 in rent arrears. Also described as "dishonest" by a judge.

This is not directly relevant to Liz Truss but look, it was a staggeringly weird day and this was basically the topper.

Anyway.

Liz goes to the Palace and is duly sworn in by the Queen, who promptly keels over and dies the very next day. Parliament is instantly shut down for mandatory mourning. As omens go, this one was not subtle.

This triggers the circulation of some very awkward footage of Young Truss talking about how she thinks the Monarchy should be abolished for being a gross relic of horrifying social stratification. However you must understand that it's not awkward because anyone thinks she murdered the Queen. It's because Liz Truss's attempts at public speaking are like sitting through a children's Christmas play when you're the only person in the audience and they can all see your face so you have to look encouraging for four hours when inside you are shrivelling into something approximating an apricot pit travelling to the core of Jupiter.

Take a look at her acceptance speech and wither.

Anyway we're now several MPs and a queen down so she's got to get on replacing those so she can focus on her real love: the much-anticipated mini-budget that she is preparing with Kwasi to save the UK from the harrowing quagmire of crippling poverty that Big Dog managed to drive us into (all while pretending it wasn't Big Dog who did it.)

Fortunately, she does not need to replace the queen! Monarchies take care of themselves, which many people would argue is very much the problem, of course. They had a proper reunion with Meghan From Suits and Meghan From Suits' husband, both of whom were banned from visiting Balmoral, and also the Nonce flew in, who was allowed to visit Balmoral. Such heartwarming scenes.

But the Cabinet, that's another matter. That's something Liz DOES have to do, and it's important she gets it right, Tumblrs, because you see, every time a Cabinet minister is replaced it's expensive and a hassle and it weakens a government by making them look all crumbly, like a packet of biscuits that's been rammed against a wall and now someone is opening it and everyone is bracing for Crumbs.

So, step forward to the Cabinet soulless ghoul Suella Braverman, the new Home Secretary. She immediately distinguishes herself by trying to legalise torture.

And then, naturally,

YEAH THAT'S RIGHT IT'S TICK TOCK TERF O'CLOCK also FUCK the sovereignty of the Scottish Parliament amirite ladies lol Girl Power uwu

Not that she can actually do anything at this point, of course. As I say: Enforced Mourning is in process, which means Parliament is shut down for ten days. No work, no speeches, no appearances, no announcements, just taxpayer's money going on legal fees to see if she can interfere with another nation's elected government in order to strip away the human rights of queer people.

However, while we all weep over the corpse of Queen Lizzie Two and beat our breasts in grief, the already-beleaguered pound is slowly bleeding out through this inaction. And this, to the Maths Mates, is unacceptable.

Two things get quietly slid into the news cycle.

Thing the First:

BIG YIKES LADS

Thing the Second:

Fracking ban in England lifted in bid to boost UK gas supply - BBC News

For those who don't know, fracking is an energy extraction process. Water, gas and dust are pumped at high pressure into shale bedrock to crack it open, releasing pockets of natural gas that can then be harvested for fuel. It's environmentally disastrous for multiple reasons, both direct (earthquakes, groundwater pollution, social impacts) and indirect (IT'S STILL A FOSSIL FUEL YOU STUPID CUNTS ARE YOUR SKULLS FUCKING EMPTY). The Welsh and Scottish governments have both banned it outright, a straight-up "Foot down no, petal". England, though, is the Tory paradise, so the ban was less complete.

However, this is still a Huge Deal - the 2019 Tory manifesto was very clear that fracking would only be unbanned IF "the science shows categorically that it can be done safely". In fact, most Tories don't like it either. Their constituents REALLY don't. Also in March Kwasi Kwarteng literally went on record and said it wouldn't lower European gas prices anyway; but not anymore! Now he thinks it's a zippy idea. Just spiffing. Top hole, pip pip (I'm so good at their accents :))

Scientists who have been studying the environmental impacts of fracking produce their report -

And it is quietly buried, so as not to offend the corpse of Lizzie Two.

Here ends the first four days of the Reign of Liz Truss.

Second Week

Anyway, royalists have gone insane and started a REALLY BIG queue to see a box that supposedly contains the rotting cadaver of the old queen. Multiple people have to be hospitalised because they join the Queue and don't take food, water, warm clothes, or essential daily medications with them, even though the Queue is literally days long. Some die. Many take the ashes of their own loved ones so they can wave them at the box for the thirty seconds they get to be in front of it, like a sort of play date for ashes.

Prince Charles, now King Prince Charles, starts swanning about as King, demanding everyone be sad for him and clap him to cheer him up. Someone holds up a sign saying 'Not my King' and gets arrested. This triggers a whole wave of protests and arrests as free speech slides out the window, until the Met Police chief has to step in and explain to the police like they're five-year-olds that they can't do that, actually, and need to cut that shit out.

But we can't wholly blame the police, because the main pressure to clamp down on protestors actually came from...

The government.

Meanwhile the country goes bat shit fucking insane. In order not to offend the fragile sensibilities of royalists, now so brittle they need to be treated with the same delicate touch normally reserved for unstable nitroglycerin, the UK sees supermarkets lowering the volume of self-serve checkout desks, people's funerals cancelled, vital operations and other medical interventions postponed, Centre Parcs cancelling holidays, FOOD BANKS CLOSING, Nintendo Direct cancelling its live stream in Britain (but not cancelling the release of the recording onto You Tube an hour later because as we all know Queen Elizabeth II was a MASSIVE livestream fan and would have been DEVASTATED to miss it but she was very 'meh' about YouTube), cycle racks being closed, and this unhinged shrieking harridan:

Very normal, lads. Very normal.

Oh and also they cancelled Owain Glyndwr Day so as a Welsh person I am now legally allowed to forcibly ram a daffodil into the urethras of the landed English gentry.

However, the protests grow as the suppression wanes. By the time King Prince Charles comes to Wales, he is met with silent protests, this guy who learned a sentence in Welsh specially for the occasion, and a petition to abolish the Prince of Wales title.

Except government is still shut down, so the petitions are all suspended.

But not to worry! That gives the Maths Mates more time to work on their special mini-budget.

Week Three

More of the same at first, really, but she finally addresses the nation to announce that the Queen was the "rock" on which "modern Britain was built".

Also someone finally spots that the necklace she always wears is a day collar, so that was fun.

BUT THEN

The moment we have all been waiting for, with baited breath.

On the 23rd September, 2022, the mini-budget finally arrives. The golden egg of Kwasi and Liz, their beloved, beautiful child, the crowning glory, the culmination of their economic beliefs and values. They are so proud of it, so sure of it, that they do not even submit it for the approval of the Office for Budget Responsibility. Why should they? This is the moment Kwarteng can finally show the world that he was right; that this is the way to do economics after all; that he alone in his brilliance and genius has reinvented the field and will lead the country to a new era of riches and prosperity.

And the pound does this:

Yikes.

Truss goes into hiding for a day and a half, during which time her aids claim all her relatives have died so she won't have to speak to the press, which is obviously a simply fantastic quality in a Prime Minister. Finally, she resurfaces by doing a series of radio interviews for regional stations around the UK, hoping they'll be easier on her, starting with Radio Leeds. The good journalists of Yorkshire eviscerate her and strew her corpse through Adel Woods. It's downhill from there.

Week Four

One poll puts Labour 33 points ahead of the Tories.

It can be a little difficult to translate polls, because the electoral system is complex, so I asked my journalist friends. They cheerfully informed me that, if translated into a General Election, the Tories would have just 3 seats left.

Except! Of course, naturally, that is me reporting naught but the most extreme result, Tumblrs, dancing upon the bones of my enemies as I chant the rites to make the Tory party die faster. If I were to be fair about this - and I am, of course, a journalist of Integrity and Morals - I would actually give the average poll result. And I am wise and fair to all, ancient rites aside, so I shall.

The average poll result is still 19 points ahead.

Tony Blair's landslide Labour victory in 1999 was 12 points.

Rounding off the day, Labour declare that they are backing a change to a proportional representation voting system in place of the UK’s archaic first past the post system. Funny that.

Anyway, that mini-budget is going poorly. Realising unlimited borrowing rather than tax cuts for the rich is maybe Bad Actually, the Maths Mates decide to get the money for their bail-outs some other way. Can you guess, Tumblrs? Can you guess where they decide to get the money from?

Naturally.

Week Five

In a fascinating little twist, the papers claim Liz banned King Prince Charles from going to the Climate Summit in Egypt. This is interesting for about a billion reasons, not least of which is that the papers seem very angry about this and yet also that it's an unsubstantiated rumour - the phrase "it's understood that _" gets a hell of a workout.

She then does not go herself. Makes sense. They'll probably be mean to her about the fracking.

She then loses the support of the Daily Mail, a paper that five weeks before were ecstatic about her rise to power :( so sad. But why? What made them change their minds?

Well. What else from Truss, but a massive and catastrophic u-turn on the economy?

And she does! The absolute nutter!

Plans to cut the 45p tax rate for those earning upwards of £150,000 were abandoned, as were:

abolishing the planned rise in corporation tax

cutting the basic rate of income tax

the two-year energy bill support plan

scrapping the planned dividend tax hike

VAT-free shopping for international tourists

freezing alcohol duty

easing of IR25 rules for the self-employed

ALL GONE! All gone. The mini-budget is not working so lol jk we'll think of something else, that's how government works, right? The pound promptly implodes further. Of all people, Nadine Dorries is the one to criticise

WE ARE IN A TOPSY TURVEY UPSIDE DOWN WORLD

The Daily Mail still finds a way to say it's all Michael Gove's fault, though.

Anyway, the 5th October dawns bright and beautiful and YouGov polls rural voters:

THIS IS HUUUUUUUUUGE, because farmers just will not fucking stop voting Tory, AND YET. Wowsers. Not just popularity. Voting intention. She might as well have personally infected every farm in the South Downs with foot and mouth disease.

Truss realises her popularity is plummeting and she needs a new audience. She tries to appear down with the kids and declares that she's the only PM to have gone to a comprehensive school.

This is not true. Gordon Brown and Theresa May both did. However, it's certainly true that all three of them became PM by ousting a sitting PM, so there's that I guess.

Week Six

At this point I can start putting in PRECISE DATEs just call ME Robert Peston.

13th October

News reporters start speculating that she'll be done by the end of the month as the first rumoured letter of no confidence reaches us. People realise that her competition for shortest serving PM was a guy who died in office of TB at about the four month mark RIP king sorry about your lungs.

(A reminder - normally, if MPs want to oust a party leader, they must send in 54 letters of no confidence. This makes the 1922 Committee - a bunch of back benchers who preside over this shit - hold a vote of no confidence. A leader who loses gives way - this is very rare. A leader who wins is then immune to another such vote for 12 months, but they almost always crumble within a month or two anyway - this is much more common.)

This is extremely funny, because a newly-elected leader of the party has a 12 month immunity to votes of no confidence, same as people who've won such a vote. Likes charge reblogs cast apparently. MPs are getting desperate.

Pressure mounts. Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng announces that he is "Not going anywhere."

14th October

Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng is sacked and blamed for the entire economic mess.

Incredibly, Liz does this without first planning a replacement, so it's several hours before Jeremy Cunt suddenly reappears like the spectre at the fucking feast.

Meanwhile here's Ed Milliband on Twitter

Seven and a half years he waited to retweet that. Seven and a half long years, look, to have the last laugh.

In the end, he still went too soon.

15th October

Deputy PM and also Health Minister Therese Coffey (side note - have they always doubled up in roles like that? Or are there just not enough of them anymore?) announces that she loves antibiotic resistance and dead kids and also breaking laws:

16th October

The Sunday Times calls for Extremely Corrupt Former Grand Vizier Rishi Sunak to take over, and then a General Election so that Labour can take the reins.

The SUNDAY TIMES

Calling for LABOUR

The Sunday Mail tries to stir up support for Ben Wallace taking over, because no one has heard of Ben Wallace so he needs the boost, but then accidentally publish their front page with a different man

In another YouGov poll for the Times, not a single political group, age group, area of the country, gender, or other demographic said that Liz Truss was the right choice for PM

This is the new predicted election graph:

Yikes

17th October

The projected election results are a Labour victory so complete the opposition would be the SNP. Legend suggests Nicola Sturgeon's cackle on finding out was so powerful she accidentally resurrected a witchfinder.

18th October

Meanwhile in the Senedd, Welsh Tory leader Andrew RT Davies, a sort of humanoid boil dressed in ham, tries to accuse placid and gentle First Minister for Wales Mark Drakeford's Labour of being responsible for long ambulance waiting times.

T'was a mistake.

19th October

Oh boy.

Well, first of all, Suella Braverman sends an official email from her private email address, and then promptly leaves the Cabinet at cannonball speeds as though she's seen a brown child about to be given citizenship. Was she quietly fired by Jeremy Cunt? Did she do it deliberately to resign? On her way out, she blames the true source of our problems - the Guardian-reading, tofu-eating Wokerati.

Nigella Lawson spends the day tweeting tofu recipes.

Meanwhile, Graham Brady, the Chair of the 1922 Committee, comes to Liz Truss to inform her that he has in fact now received 54 letters of no confidence. Normally, of course, that would be considered enough to trigger a vote in her leadership; but not now.

However, these are unprecedented times. So he changes the threshold - if half of the Tories send him letters, her immunity will be revoked.

But the thing is, Tumblrs, the thing is...

It is all about to kick off in the most spectacular and catastrophic fireworks since Guy Fawkes had a dream.

Because Ed Milliband, once accused of leading the country to chaos and now riding high on the joy of his well-timed Twitter jab of Some Days Ago, wakes this morning and chooses violence.

He has spotted, of course, that no one likes fracking; even the Tories are against it.

He has also spotted that Liz Truss is very stupid.

So he goes into the House of Commons, and he digs a big pit and covers it over with twigs and leaves so it can't be seen, and he bakes a big cake and he places it in the middle of the twigs, and he sets up a net to fall as well and a big stick of ACME dynamite, and he hammers in little signs everywhere saying CAUTION - TRAP, by which I am of course being metaphorical because what he actually does is table a motion to extend the moratorium on fracking. The signs aren't necessary, really. This trap is easy to avoid.

All Liz Truss has to do, you see, is not use a three-line whip on this vote.

The three-line whip, as you'll all recall, is the highest level of coercion. MPs cannot defy a three-line whip. MPs cannot even abstain on a three-line whip. MPs have two choices on a three-line whip: to vote as they're told, or to be removed from the party. You obey or resign. That's all.

For this reason, it's sometimes called a 'confidence vote', as it is effectively a stand-in for one. The vote is not about the issue at hand - this is now a vote of confidence in your leader.

(He's also laid lesser traps. Years back when fracking was first being heavily discussed, Ed was Labour leader and one of the main figures in those discussions. During today, before it all Kicks The Fuck Off, a Tory stands and challenges him on previous statements about fracking, trying to accuse him of hypocrisy.

He was fucking ready for it.)

Graham Brady pops his head back around the door. He's changed his mind - a third of the party is all that's needed now to trigger a vote of no confidence in Liz Truss. And legend says he's only 17 off.

This is presumably the reason for what comes next.

Liz panics. Liz sees she's desperately unpopular. Liz sees that she has to do something to shore up support; and she sees that her important fracking rule, which her party hates her for, is now being challenged by a former Labour leader, and if he wins (which he will) she'll lose all credibility and maybe they'll take her nice office away and tell her she was a Bad Girl.

And so, with the inevitability of gravity on the now-leaden pound sterling, she makes it a three-line whip, and a confidence vote in her government.

INSTANT CHAOS.

There is uproar! There is rage! There is blinding fury! Tory MPs are standing up in the Commons and snarling and pissing and moaning! No one likes fracking except Jacob Rees Mogg! For TWO HOURS they shriek and scream and gnash their teeth, yelling at Liz Truss, demanding to know why this is happening.

(Legend has it chaos-deity Ed Milliband simply leaned back, put his feet up on the chair in front, and made Christian Wakeford hand-feed him grapes and fan him with a palm leaf, but this is unsubstantiated.)

And then, at 6.55, FIVE MINUTES before voting is ready to begin, the Tory Minister for Climate Graham Stewart stands up and declares that everyone should vote how they want because it's not a confidence vote.

Did I say there was chaos before?

Lol. Lmao, even. Rofl, in fact.

Now Tories leap to their feet and basically all scream one long, unending breath of WHAT-DO-YOU-MEAN-IT'S-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE-WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-HAPPENING-IS-IT-OR-IS-IT-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE and so Stewart gets up again and says, right to everyone's faces, "It's not for me to say whether it's a confidence vote or not," which is an even faster and more spectacular u-turn than Truss herself could pull off given that he literally just said it wasn't and did so while being a minister.

And then the voting starts. MPs are now milling about like chickens who've sighted the hawk, clamouring to know if they're going to lose their jobs unless they vote for Satan. The Whips - specifically Chief Whip Wendy Morton and Deputy Chief Whip Craig Whittaker - descend upon them like fucking wargs on the hunt. They don't just spit vitriol and blackmail into MPs ears. They fucking bodily drag people into the right voting lobby. MPs are legitimately screaming. Grown men are crying literal tears. Labour's Chris Bryant reports holding multiple Tory MPs as they sob into his shoulder. Multiple MPs report similar scenes.

And Tories still don't know if this is even a damn confidence vote, or if they should just knock the Chief Whip's teeth out.

And then the Whips, filled with bloodlust and frenzy, suddenly realise that NO ONE IS LISTENING TO US, YOU'RE ALL SUPPOSED TO LISTEN TO US SO WE FEEL POWERFUL -

Cue sudden meeting in a locked room with Liz Truss. For over HALF AN HOUR.

So is it a confidence vote? No one is sure. Deputy PM Therese Coffey thinks so, so in the absence of the Whips she decides physical assault is her job now and is seen by David Linden MP (SNP) physically carrying someone into the voting lobby. Jacob Rees Mogg thinks not and starts yelling "It's not a confidence vote!", to which his colleagues reply, "Fuck off." Meanwhile the Whips have possibly resigned, no one is sure. It is still uncertain if this was a confidence vote.

And Ed Milliband basks in the chaos, playing the fiddle while it all burns around him.

Finally, voting concludes. The Whips reappear to lurk.

The votes are in - the government wins, and fracking will go ahead. But.

32 MPs abstained.

And one of those is Liz Truss.

Which is WILD??!? What possible benefit could she get from that??? No one knows. Everything is uproar again. Guess who else abstained? Well, riveted reader, here's a list with important names highlighted:

Nigel Adams, Gareth Bacon, Siobhan Baillie, Greg Clark, Sir Geoffrey Cox, Tracey Crouch, David Davis, Dame Caroline Dinenage, Nadine Dorries, Philip Dunne, Mark Fletcher, Vicky Ford, Paul Holmes, Alister Jack, Boris Johnson, Gillian Keegan, Kwasi Kwarteng, Robert Largan, Pauline Latham, Mark Logan, Theresa May, Priti Patel, Mark Pawsey, Angela Richardson, Andrew Rosindell, Bob Seely, Alok Sharma, Chris Skidmore, Henry Smith, Ben Wallace, Sir John Whittingdale, and William Wragg.

Kwasi still smarting about that p45, I see.

In any case it then turns out that Liz DID vote, but incompetently, because her voting card didn't read properly, which is actually fair given that she was being screamed at by angry Whips waving Graham Stewart's severed dick and balls around while they demanded power and authority. While she's clearing that up, the press are understandably waiting open-mouthed for comment, but don't worry Liz! Your old pal Jacob Rees Mogg is here to fill in for you!

And thus it is that JRM willingly chooses to go on the live news and calmly confirm to the nation that no one knows if it was a confidence vote or not.

Chaos. Chaos again. Unbridled chaos. The Whips are furious. Everyone is furious. The rebels are now in limbo, unsure if they're now out of a job. Tories are weeping, trying to work out if Rees Mogg WANTS to sink the party. Back bencher Charles Walker MP delivers a frank interview to the press absolutely SHIVERING with rage, like the drummer in a Fleetwood Mac concert. Ex-Lib Dem leader Tim Farron, a bland man known only for the time he himself willingly chose to go on the news and calmly explain that he's a homophobe without provocation, tweets that Liz Truss is a Lib Dem sleeper agent they sent in to destroy the Tories, sparking what is likely to be a whole slew of conspiracy theories by next week. No one knows what is going on. They all decide to sleep on it.

The good folks at Wikipedia ultimately decide to make three separate pages for the UK 2022 government crisis, and to label them with the month "to leave room for another by the end of the year."

Ed Milliband skips all the way home, and treats himself to a bacon sandwich.

20th October

Okay, Liz thinks, the morning after. Okay. Last night was bad. But today will be better.

So first... the vote.

Because there's bad news for Tories who like money and good news for people who like liveable planets - there are problems with the vote. For one, the vote counts are being called into question. Are the results reliable?

For another, the Speaker of the House of Commons calls for an investigation into the reports of, um, assault. So will the result stand?

It's so unclear! And so is that ongoing issue of whether or not the damn thing was a confidence vote. Angry whips say YES, JRM says NO, Downing Street refuses to pick up the phone to the BBC, but does send ITV's Robert Peston a text at 1am to say it was definitely a confidence vote and, unrelatedly, the Whips aren't resigning :)

I think we have found the price paid to keep the Whips.

Meanwhile. Let's see what this has done for Liz's leadership stability!

13 letters of no confidence are confirmed submitted by Sky, 5 of which came in overnight. The 1922 Committee reconvenes the coven to discuss matters. Simultaneously, the One Nation Conservatives reconvene their coven to discuss the same. Presumably there is much "Girl what are YOU doing at the Devil's Sacrament?"-ing and "Same cloak, how embarrassing"-ing. MPs are CLAMOURING for her head. It is VICIOUS. It's like cartoon piranhas in a supervillain's lair; which is highly appropriate, because that's exactly what Tory MPs are.

Graham Brady, head jester of the 1922 Committee, demands to see Liz Truss.

He walks into a room with her, and the doors are closed. Half an hour later, he walks back out of the room.

Ten minutes later, she calls a press conference.

45 days after being appointed, Liz Truss breaks the record, and becomes the shortest-serving British Prime Minister.

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂:  𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍  𝟏.

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

“ fuck the middle class! ”

“ fuck scented candles. ”

“ we’re not victims. ”

“ you’re glimpsing! look properly. ”

“ if the cops turn up, you haven’t seen us. ”

“ lie to the police? that’s purgery that is. ”

“ we bonded over ganja and hip hop. ”

“ if that wasn’t bad enough, i’m going bald and all. ”

“ the fuck have you brought a pigeon for? ”

“ put the chloroform away. ”

“ you must have the wrong man. ”

“ i don’t have that kind of money, man. ”

“ i’m pouring my heart out, you’re on a dating app. ”

“ have you tried it? it’s unbelievable. ”

“ i don’t know why i trust these morons. ”

“ every fucker wants something. ”

“ who gives a shit where anyone sticks their dick anymore. ”

“ dicks are gonna go in soft, warm holes, end of. ”

“ now we’re living! ”

“ he was aiming to miss. ”

“ chill out, panickin’ skywalker. ”

“ if you’re looking for someone to blame you can piss off and blame yourself. ”

“ i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have shouted. ”

“ i’ve got a duran duran cd. ”

“ aren’t you scared? being out here on your own at night. ”

“ your pony’s a cunt. ”

“ he’s not a man to make an enemy of. ”

“ sometimes it’s only later when you look back you realize when the turning point came, the moment in your life when everything changed. ”

“ it’s morning glory, doesn’t mean anything. ”

“ it’s like fort knox in there, bolted doors, cctv. ”

“ do that again, i fucking dare you, do it again. ”

“ it’s just hit me hard, that’s all man, you know just the thought that one minute you can be there, full of life, next minute you’re fucking gone. “

“ you can’t think of a bloody thing, can you? ”

“ i trust you’ve brought forth my… magical ‘erbs? ”

“ the state’s trying to silence me, but my powers are too strong. their systems and restraints will never shackle my spirits. ”

“ that’s a common misconception, ninety percent of sewage waste is actually water. ”

“ let’s hear your brilliant plan, genius. ”

“ i’ll be good cop, you be bad cop. ”

“ and you’re sure they were following you? ”

“ i defy any man, yourself included sunshine, to resist under those sort of circumstances. ”

“ she might’ve had a bit of work done, but… she’s in cracking shape, actually. ”

“ cometh the hour, cometh the man. ”

“ oh my god we’re gonna dieeee! ”

“ no sign of anyone. ”

“ it’s having a kid. it makes you more vulnerable. ”

“ you’re an internet sensation. ”

“ i don’t have a bucket list, i have a suck it list. a smoke it list, a drink it list. snort it list. ”

“ you’ve never fought a man like me before. ”

“ it’s because you use big words. ”

“ i’ve got a thing for big boys. the chunkier the better. ”

“ well if you tell yourself puke is a possibility, you might puke. you’ve gotta tell yourself you won’t puke. ”

“ let all the tension go and allow yourself to be held. ”

“ i’ve made a decision and i’ve not thought about the consequences. ”

“ are you high? ”

“ i prefer it alfresco. ”

“ i’ve just really seen your knob there. ”

“ you’re like a bloody stalker, man. ”

“ i’m addicted to women’s knees. ”

“ i was thinking… i need help. you need help, to talk about our thoughts and maybe we could be like, you know, therapy for each other. like a two man counselling group. ”

“ it’s a hospital, they don’t do advanced bookings you bellend. ”

“ whatever you’ve heard, you need to unhear. ”

“ you, are the shit on my shoe. an irritation, unpleasant, has to be dealt with. you can’t go around with shit on your shoe, it ruins the overall effect. try scraping it off but a bit always lingers in the cracks. so, in the end, inevitable, no way ‘round it, you have to remove the shoe - and deal with the shit properly. ”

“ stop googling shit like that man, someone checks your phone you’re gonna be in some trouble, aren’t you? ”

“ are you pretending to cry? ”

“ i just wish i’d never told you now. ”

“ how do you fancy being my girlfriend? just for the day. ”

“ anything is possible, it’s about the choices you make. ”

“ come out, i can see you. ”

“ put the ornamental sword down, let’s have a proper chat like grown ups. ”

“ will you mind your bloody language? ”

“ the heart’s a fickle beast. ”

“ you ask for a day, i give you a day and you introduce him to a world of petty crime. ”

“ i felt like being someone else for the day. ”

“ i paid you to piss him off, not make his fucking year. ”

“ that’s how cows always look. ”

“ you haven’t started smoking, have you? ”

“ police! get your fucking hands up! ”

“ don’t sneak up on me dickhead. ”

“ we all decided never to give you class a’s ever again, for as long as we all shall live. ”

“ you’re pathologically inclined to ruin everyone’s night. ”

“ you’re a buzz-ruiner and you ruin drugs for people. ”

“ there are things, right? feelings that i have buried. ”

“ you never know when it’s gonna be too late. ”

“ i am terrified of what it would be like to not be with you. ”

“ jesus! what are you doing creeping around on the floor? you scared the shit out of me! ”

“ if you go, i’m coming. ”

“ i’m a lover, not a fighter. ”

“ next thing you know i just, i had not choice so i had to run him over. ”

“ what do you mean you ran him over? ”

“ i’m sorry that i wasn’t having the time to go to fucking… what’s it called where you learn all the shit? school - to learn to be a smartass! ”

“ it’s the perfect crime, it’s so fucking stupid no one would think anyone would be daft enough to try. ”

“ you’re acting like a fucking amateur. ”

“ i’m appealing to his common sense. ”

“ you see that? that was like some proper you’ve been framed shit. ”

“ you’re making me cringe. ”

“ i never imagined how low you’d sink. but then again, how could you not? ”

“ the last thing you’re gonna see is my face, me, grinning, as you beg to take those words back. ”

“ is that a real policeman? ”

“ do you wanna leave here alive tonight, you? ”

“ shut up! stop making words, dude! ”

“ don’t come in. ”

“ i must’ve done something fucking terrible in a previous life. ”

“ you’re going to have a lovely long sleep, and when you wake up, you’re going to feel wonderfully refreshed and unable to remember anything from the last twenty four hours. ”

“ spontaneous theft. christ, it’s been ages since i’ve done one of them. ”

“ you know the bloody rules, ask me no questions, i’ll tell you no lies. ”

“ you will always remember the moment before you become dickless. ”

“ i have been badly betrayed. ”

“ he said he was gonna cut my dick off! ”

“ did you bring my car back? because if you brought it back thanks a million, i’ll give you a free embalming next time you need it. ”

“ i’ve always enjoyed theatre, i like dance and literature, and um… cock. ”

“ faced with this, i’m really scared, man. ”

“ i feel like a little lad who needs his mum. ”

“ you realize this is crazy don’t you? ”

“ i think i could make you really happy. ”

“ everything would be amazing… thirty four percent of the time. ”

“ i’m thinking dead, it’s fucking freaking me out! ”

“ being dead put a lot of things in perspective for me. ”

“ so tell me, how does it feel to be dead? ”

[samnyangie]

Your (un)helpful guide to rsl’s theatre characters

As many of you might have noticed I’m a stan who is obsessed with theatre sphere of Bobby’s career. Yes I proudly can say that I am.

So this is a list of guide and appreciation of theatrical characters Bobby did. It’s mainly for myself really, just for fun sake haha. I don’t know some of them fully so I might got few things wrong and I just pick the ones I love/find it interesting

Eugene Jerome (Brighton Beach Memoirs)

A horny annoying jewish teenager, but so adorable (at least for me), his goals are: being famous baseball player or a famous writer in case the former goal fails(what a back up plan) and see a girl naked in real life, also is your shopping boy for flours, butter and ice cream.

Eugene Marchbanks (Candida)

A young poet in his 19, a hopeless romantic (aka a simp) for a married woman in mid thirties(I have no rights to mock him thoooo), my favourite passive aggressive, foolish, introverted very much obsessed lad. Nominated for tony on 1993

A. E. Housman (The Invention Of Love)

Another hopelessly romantic young poet in the 19th century, but this time, is in love with his best friend and not aggressive. A role he won a tony on 2001 for (as he should!)

Alexandros (When She Danced)

A Greek narcissistic piano prodigy (the first thing he literally say is ‘I’m a prodigy’) who speaks trilingual: English, Greek, Italian (I think). This means Bobby actually played piano (Two pieces of Bach) and spoke Greek and Italian!! Dklsjsmsjskks oh sir I-

Edgar (King Lear)

My (along with puck) Shakespeare bias, this photo explains everything

Edmund Tyrone (Long Day’s Journey into night)

A dying, fretful, mental young fellow who has family issues and needs desperate (including all of his family) help, nominated for tony on 2003

Don Parritt (The iceman Cometh)

A poor mental teenage fellow who has anarchist mother issues result in a weird obsession on an old man who used to be kind to him when he was a kid… also needs help

Alan Harris (White People)

A liberal college history professor, interested in American slavery history and strong anti-racist, but as his pregnant wife got murdered by a black man, he gets into a conflict between his surfacing hatred and his beliefs, (a play itself is about a 80’s American society on racism, there’re few interviews on this particular play, despite that there’re lack photos;(( I’ll share some at some point)

Alan Hoffman (Prodigal Son)

I saw people joking of it’s being a sequel to dps, in alternative universe where Neil was alive, became a literature teacher guiding the troubled ones, haha and there’s a vague hunch of him being homosexual

Harold Hill (The Music Man)

A smooth talking con man in suittttttttt (white suitssssssss) this video explains everything

Winthrop (The Music Man)

I barely remember anything about him but all I know was he was so adorable so Bobby’s Winthrop must be insanely aborable

Romeo (Romeo and Juliet)

This photo explains everything 2222222222222

Dr Valentine (You Never Can Tell)

A helpless romantic dentist in love for a girl he just met and doesn’t know what’s going on

Gimpty (Dead End)

A street gang kid from ghetto, has a limp so always walks with a cane (hmmmm doesn’t that remind you of someone…), opportunist to the point of betraying childhood friends

Kenneth Talley Jr (Fifth of July)

A gay Vietnam war veteran, has paraplegic leg due to the war, carry a medical walking stick thing(I don’t know the proper name for it;;3), used to had a thing for his friend

Peter (At home At the Zoo)

Your average nice good pacifist family man but (((spoiler alert))) commits murder when it comes to a bench spot

Henry Higgins (Pygmalion)

A frantic, hot headed British phonetic professor known for his elegant eloquence such as ‘you squashed cabbage leaf’, forces an oblivious flower girl into his weird game then get backfired (honestly it’s so funny I love Eliza)

Tom Wingfield (Glass Menagerie)

This photo explains everything 3333333333333333333333333333333

Gar (private) (Philadelphia, Here I Come!)

An Irish inner sardonic alter ego of the actual Gar (Public), unseen by everyone except Gar(Public), obnoxious and chatty usually says stuff which… shouldn’t be said (imagine Bobby speaking in Irish accent haha)

King Richard III (Richard III)

A king who is a dominant tyrant but loves his queen

King Arthur (Camelot)

A king who isn’t a dominant tyrant and loves his queen + sing

Atticus Finch (To Kill A Mocking Bird)

A southern lawyer with strong morals, taken a defence case of wrongfully accused young black man of r**e (I really need to read the book)

Christopher Morcom (Breaking the code)

(FINALLYYYYY) a best friend who a gay genius protagonist is in love for (it’s based on the life of Alan Turing)