#rings bell like a town crier

[alderaani]

“Maybe I would, if it meant I got treated less like an errant Padawan,” Kenobi said. He sighed, and smiled ruefully. “It’s one of the curses of working with the same people you grew up with, I suppose.” Cody snorted. “You don’t have to tell me that, Sir.” Kenobi laughed. “No, of course I don’t. Though I’ve never seen Captain Rex bend your ear.” “That’s not really his style.” Rex had always been their resident snitch growing up, ready to dish up someone else’s dirt to keep the flack off himself, and because he’d retained a baby face longer than the rest of them he usually got away with it. And anyway, he was all indignation and righteous anger when he’d been scared, at least with Cody. It was how he’d known Rex would match well with Skywalker all those months ago. Looking back, setting up that pairing had been the first time he’d truly felt a kind of kindred with Kenobi - watching the two of them walk off to spearhead their own battalion, he’d looked as torn between fear and pride as Cody felt. Then he’d sighed, looked at him and said “I need a drink. Are you coming?” It was a tradition that they still maintained whenever they needed to authorise the 501st’s reports.

Full Work Summary:

Disaster strikes at the heart of the Republic! With a coup on Charra and their threatened secession from the Republic, caf stocks plummet across the galaxy and civil unrest permeates to the very centre of the Senate.

But not is all as it seems. Sent on a diplomatic mission to negotiate Charra's demands, General Obi-Wan Kenobi and clone Commander Cody must stand together to resolve this threat to the unity of the Republic, and, perhaps, may get a chance to confront the turbulent emotions between themselves...

[miwtual]

Call the nurse I think I slipped a Franklin in her purse And on the way out I asked her very nicely "make it hurt"

DISGUSTING! Vana (2024)

[blueinkjpeg]

I’m ringing a bell like the town crier. Come get ur poly bloom and rage fic!!! All the girls being in love fic!!!

[capseycartwright]

genuinely incredible to see deadline talk about a buck and eddie will they won’t they. did tim minear kiss the head of 911 comms gently on the forehead before he sent them to disperse the news of buddie canon pending to the biggest entertainment sites in the world. did he send them off like a town crier, ringing a bell with buck and eddies faces attached. did he sit back in his desk chair and think. yeah i am a girl who’s going to be ok. as he watches the buddie girlies of the world lose their minds. season 9. more like season buddie am i right.

[angelasscribbles]

The Highway Man: Aftermath

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Series: The Highwayman by @karahalloway

Parings: Drake x Harper (OC)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Death

Word Count: 1,200

A/N: At the beginning of 2024 @choicesprompts hosted a song rewrite challenge and @karahalloway knocked it out of the park with her submission. It was too good because it left me emotionally traumatized. SPOILER ALERT: if you haven't heard the song, just know that the lovers both die. I begged her to at least let Drake extract some vengeance first, but alas, I was told "That's not how the song goes" 🤣😭

So after she emotionally traumatized me, I asked if she would mind me writing a little follow up with the characters that were left.

She graciously consented. I drug my feet for nearly a year but yesterday I randomly sat down and produced this. I sent it to her for approval first. I was worried about doing proper credit to the story and the characters. I am so deeply touched and honored that she liked it so much.

I still have ideas about Harper's father going after the captain of the guard that instigated all this. So there might be another follow up one day.

I'm linking the original three-shot that inspired this:

The Highwayman /The Highwayman Part 2 /The Highwayman Part 3

The town crier walked in front of the wagon, ringing his bell and repeating, “The Highway Man is dead. He was served the King’s justice. Let this be a lesson to all who would defy the rule of law. We do not tolerate brigands or thieves in Cordonia.”

Crowds gathered around the roadside to gape and gawk at the body in the wagon. Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd.

“It’s really him!”

“The Highway Man…”

“Midnight Jack.”

“It’s him, the Raven Rider!”

“No, it can’t be.”

“Met him once on a deserted road, it’s him a’right.”

“The Highway Man is dead. Ye Gods!”

When they were done parading his body through the streets, the wagon returned to the gallows where three men had been publicly executed days earlier. The bodies still hung from the gibbet, swaying in the late afternoon wind.

“What do we do with the body?” The greencoat driving the wagon asked.

The sentry that took charge of the horses answered him. “Leave it in the wagon. Make sure it’s propped up so people can see. We’ll bury them all in the execution cemetery in two days time. Those are our orders.”

“Good,” the soldier huffed as he climbed down from the driver’s box. Jerking his head towards the gallows, he opined, “Those are starting to smell.”

The crowd slowly dispersed as the sun sank behind the horizon.

Late into the night when it was full dark and the streets were empty, when the lanterns and candles were put out and the town was fast asleep, a lone figure melted out of the darkness and pulled the body from the wagon. Working quickly and noiselessly, the figure strapped the body to one horse, then clambered onto the other and disappeared into the night.

Dawn’s light revealed an empty wagon where, the night before, a body had been.

Rumors quickly flew through the countryside that the Highway Man had risen from the dead and was seeking vengeance.

*****

Robert Gale stood in the shade of a great oak that sat in the backyard of the house he’d raised his daughter in and several hundred meters from The Crown and The Flame, the tavern that had provided for him and his family for the last thirty years.

He had no family left now and no one to provide for.

He stared down into the grave at the body he had just placed there and then wiped the sweat from his brow. He had to stop to catch his breath.

He was an old man now, not as hale and hearty as he used to be, and this was the second grave he’d dug in a week.

He’d known the raven rider was dead even before the greencoats started gloating about it all over the countryside.

A riderless horse had limped into stables, its leg injured, but not broken. Bullet wounds in its chest, but none fatal. A horse as dark as midnight. A horse that the stable boy Emile had identified as belonging to Midnight Jack.

“So, you knew? Everyone knew but me?” He’d demanded.

His anger had evaporated as Emile recoiled in fear. “I’m sorry, sir, but he swore me to silence and threatened my life if I told!”

“It was fear for your life that kept your lips closed then?”

Emile faltered. “I… liked him, sir. He was kind to me.”

Robert’s eyes narrowed, “Which was it then? Fear or loyalty?”

The stableboy gulped with wide eyes. “Both. And Harper…. She begged me not to tell.”

The old man softened. “Tell me what you knew about him and my daughter. Please.”

That had been two nights ago. He’d saddled his horse and ridden to the county seat, knowing the body would be there. It was standard practice to display hunted criminals to the public, to discourage others.

He might not agree with the life this man had led, but it had been clear that he and Harper loved each other. They had created a child together, and the three of them deserved to have eternal rest together.

He had just thrown the last shovelful of dirt onto the grave when he became aware of a figure approaching. He watched quietly as the man made his way to the makeshift graveyard under the great oak.

Guilt and regret were etched on every feature of Theo’s face.

The old man leaned heavily on the shovel with a sigh. “You know, I always thought of you as a son. Never had one of my own. I truly thought that someday you and Harper might—well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Theo’s eyes darted from Robert to the two graves as his head shook from side to side. “That could still happen, perhaps, if she can find it in her heart to forgive me.”

“Non, son.” He gestured to the grave on the right. “There she lies, in the ground. She won’t be marrying anyone.”

Remorse, shame, and grief washed over the younger man. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Sobs wracked his body. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never wanted Harper to get hurt! I thought I was protecting her from him!”

Roberts' eyes fluttered closed briefly as he remembered all the times he’d tried to push them together. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“What?” Theo stopped sobbing and looked up.

“I’m her father. It’s my tavern. If you were so concerned, why didn’t you just come to me?”

“I….” he had no good answer because the truth was that he had wanted his competition to pay. Anger, jealousy, and insecurity had eaten away at him when he’d realized Harper loved another. And when he’d realized who… well, there was no way he could compete with a literal legend, so he’d done the only thing he could think of to remove him permanently.

The older man nodded in understanding. “You were angry at her. For loving him.” He pointed to the grave on the left.

Confusion washed across Theo’s face as his eyes tracked to the second grave. “Who’s that?”

“That’s the Raven Rider.”

Anger and disbelief coursed through him as he jumped to his feet. “Why did you bury him next to her? He's the reason she's dead!”

“Is that what you believe, son?”

“Yes! That’s the truth! If it wasn’t for him, she’d still be alive!”

“If it wasn’t for you, they’d all three be alive.” There was a tightness in Robert's voice that Theo had never heard before.

Confusion and curiosity overrode the first stirring of fear in his chest. “Three?”

“Yes. She was carrying my grandchild in her belly.”

“So, he defiled her as well as endangered her!”

“That’s enough!” he roared. “You will not speak of my daughter in that manner! She loved him, and he loved her, and you betrayed this family.”

The grieving father pulled a pistol from his waistband and raised it in the air.

Theo’s eyes widened as he finally realized the danger he was in. “Wait! Please! I never meant for Harper to get hurt! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“No.” He pulled the trigger.

[amarmeme]

Ringing the bell like the town crier.

Next chapter up! Illario/Rook and they finally kiss.

Come and get it!!

[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part VIII

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part | series masterlist

word count: 2202

warnings/tags: 18+ only plz mdni, dry humping, grinding, cum in pants, pussy eating, fingering, getting caught, as always if I missed anything please lmk

note: next chapter is gonna be cute maybe drama free

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News travels fast around town. You see it before you hear it. People running to each other, gossiping and holding pieces of paper. You hear the sound of a rhythmic bell approaching the bakery, the ringing getting louder and closer. You step outside to see a man dressed in a royal purple getup, the town crier, announcing Evan’s departure from the royal family.

You don’t know why you’re surprised but you freeze. He actually did it. That part of you that held some doubt, vanishes as you’re handed a piece of parchment with the same words from the man’s mouth.

As you read the royal announcement, your stomach bubbles with excitement? Anticipation? You’re not sure but you can’t wait until you see Evan again.

You’re watching the clock tick by. You interact with the customers and restock displays but your mind is elsewhere.

“Welcome in!” You hear Albert’s voice.

“Hi, is Y/n here?” It’s not a voice you immediately recognize.

“She’s a bit busy at the moment. Can I help you?” Albert raises a brow.

“I was just hoping to speak with her is all.” You tense when you do recognize her voice.

“What can I help you with ma’am?” You quickly turn the corner and emerge from the back.

“Can we talk?” She pleads, hands clasped together.

“It’s really not a good time.” You pinch at your skirt, eyes to the ground.

“It’ll only take a minute.”

“Sure.” You meet Albert’s eyes, a silent are you sure? “Can you handle this for a minute?”

He nods as you remove your apron and hang it on a hook. You hold open the front door for her and watch as she exits before you.

“So, what can I do for you Margaret?” You smooth out your dress.

“I came to apologize about my actions. I should have never hit you.”

“Okay.” You nod, walking alongside her through town.

“You seem like a lovely person with a great heart. I’m sure you’ve heard about Evan.” She stops and turns to you.

“I have. I don’t mean to be rude but is there a reason you’re here?” You turn to her. “I really need to get back to the bakery.”

“Evan is packing his belongings as we speak. He won’t speak to me or even Maddie at the moment. I know his heart will be in good hands with you but I want to assure he’s financially taken care of.” Her hands shake as she searches in her purse. “Please take this.” She hands you an envelope.

“What is this?” You snatch it from her hands, peeking inside. “Are you serious? Take this back.”

“Please, I’m not trying to offend you.”

“Well, you are. I don’t need your money.” You shove the envelope back in her hands, storming off, back to the bakery.

“Hey, everything okay?” Albert perks up from the counter.

“Yup.” You pull your apron off the hook.

“Can I ask you something?” Albert follows you to the back.

“Sure?”

“Is it worth it? Like going through all this drama just to be with Buck?”

You take a moment to think before speaking. “I think Buck’s worth it. All of this has been hard but I love him. It’s crazy you know? We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend officially and we really haven’t spent much time alone but I think when you know, you know.” You laugh, the more is comes out, the crazier is sounds.

“I can tell you really love him. You’re really strong for putting up with all this mess.”

“It’s not easy but I think about the end game. I hope one day we’ll be married and maybe have kids if that’s something we decide. I guess that’s what keeps me going. Plus, he makes me feel good.” Albert’s face crinkles with disgust. “Not like that!” You laugh.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.” You raise a brow.

“June kissed me.” Your mouth drops. “I heard crying as I was leaving the day of the wedding and I found her in the garden. Her parents were blaming her for not keeping Buck satisfied or whatever and I gave her a hug and we kissed.” He rambles. “She’s actually really sweet.”

“Oh my god.” You cover your mouth. “You like her!”

“I don’t know!” He laughs. “I haven’t seen her since but I’ve been thinking about her.”

“Well, what are you going to do?” You inquire.

“I don’t know. I want to see her again but I’m not sure her parents would allow it.”

“I see.” You nod. “Well, just prepare yourself for the consequences. If you really like her, go for it.”

“Right, thanks y/n. I’m going to finish cleaning up. I’ll bag up the leftovers.” Albert smiles and begins the closing duties. Once he leaves, he’ll take the leftovers to the local shelter for donations.

You head to the back and begin cleaning dishes, wiping down counters, and sweeping.

“See you in a few days, y/n.” You hear Albert’s voice as he leaves through the front. He already knows to lock up after himself so you continue sweeping at the back of the store.

“Hey,” You’re startled. “Albert let me in.”

“Buck, I’ve been worried about you all day. I missed you.” You smile softly and wipe your hands on your apron.

“I missed you more.” Buck says as he rushes up to you. He presses you fiercely against the table, lips smashing into yours but careful enough not to hurt you. You don’t question it, your hands wrapping around his neck.

“I love you.” He mumbles against your lips and he lifts you onto the table. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You sigh against his lips. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” He pulls you closer to the edge, planting himself between your legs. He bunches your dress up to your thighs.

“Buck…” you whisper.

“I need you.” His hands firmly grip your thighs, lips trailing across your jawline.

“Here?” You laugh into a moan when he sucks at your collarbone. “Shit, that feels nice.”

He laughs against your skin, “can I keep going?”

“Yes, please.” You rest your hands on the table top and lean back. Buck leans with you, pressing himself closer to you as his arms wrap around your back.

“I love this dress on you.” He whispers into your ear, sucking just below your earlobe. “You’re just so fucking pretty.”

“You drive me crazy.” You nudge his cheek with your nose. “In more ways than one.”

“Still so mean to me.” He jokes and pulls you forward, body flush against yours.

You pull Buck to you by his shirt. You lick into his mouth igniting a fiery kiss. Your tongues are fighting each other, twisting around each other sloppily. You suck on his tongue eliciting a deep moan from him.

“Shhh.” You whisper, “can’t be too loud.”

“Can’t help it. You make me feel good.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt. You help him pull his pants to his mid thighs.

Buck pushes his clothed cock against your covered folds. You feel Buck through his boxers as he ruts against you. Buck holds onto the fabric at your hips as he grinds into you.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to keep steady as he rocks back and forth. His rock hard tip hits just at the right spot each time he thrusts forward.

Your foreheads stick together as you both look down to where you’re meeting every few seconds. There’s two obvious wet patches smeared along the front of your underwear and his boxers.

“That’s so hot.” You gasp. “Keep going.”

Buck bites his lip to stop his moans. “I’m already close.”

You smile as you latch your lips to his neck. Your actions are animalistic as you suck and kiss at as much skin as you can, trying to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Fuck, keep doing that, right there.” He moans loudly as you suck on his jaw.

You suck harder and watch as he squeezes his eyes, mouth dropping open. You feel his body stutter and twitch against you while he spurts into his boxers. You look down just in time to see the last gush of his cum seep through his boxers and dampen your underwear.

“God, that was incredible. You’re incredible.” He nips at your neck with his teeth, leaving little bites along your skin. You’re both giggling and clinging to each other, toppling back onto the table.

Buck quickly guides you to lay back against the cold material. “Can I taste you?”

You nod and flip your skirt up to your chest. Buck gently removes your underwear, apologizing for the mess he’s made. You wave him off and lift your hips for him to remove your underwear.

Buck rubs his thumb along the inside of your folds, spreading your wetness along your slit. Your body jumps when his thumb meets your clit.

Buck rubs circles as he stands between your legs, holding your right thigh with his unoccupied hand.

You’re softly moaning and whimpering beneath him. “You’ve got me all worked up, Buckley. Do something.”

“You’re so impatient.” He teases, sucking his thumb. “Just wanted to admire you for a bit.”

“Buck please…” You whine.

“Okay, baby. Just relax.” He wraps his arms around your thighs as he bends down to bury his face between your thighs.

Buck’s lips press a peck on your clit before he’s flicking his tongue over and over. He switches from small flicks on your clit to flattening his tongue and dragging it from your hole to your clit.

“Do that again.” You moan, hands holding his wrists.

Buck licks around your hole before dragging his tongue up to your clit and swirling around it.

You can hardly form words as he continues at a consistent pace. Buck replaces his tongue with his thumb, dropping his head lower. His tongue prods at your hole, the tip dipping in and out.

“You taste amazing. Should’ve did this on my birthday.” With each upward flick of his thumb, his tongue enters you. He creates a pattern with his movements.

Your fingernails dig into his forearms as your body begins to tense. He moves with you as you lift off the table, not stopping his movements.

“Buck, I’m so close.” You cry out. Buck presses you back down onto the table as he pulls his hand from your clit. You sob at the loss before his lips are sucking your clit and he pressing two fingers into you.

“Relax, baby. Let me in.” He breathes against you. You take a deep breath but it’s no use as he begins to pump his fingers slowly. “Yeah, baby. Fuck, you look like angel.”

You moan and grind against his fingers. You can feel how close you are , you just need a little more. “Buck, come kiss me.” You demand.

Buck stands, back aching as his fingers move quickly. You lean on your elbows and he ducks his head down to meet your lips.

The kiss is messy and frantic along with your gyrating hips.

“Oh fuck,” You squeal.

“Cum baby, cum for me.” He whispers, eyes focused on your scrunched up face. Just as you’re reaching your peak, your hands hold onto him for support.

“Evan!” You gasp, body spasming.

Buck’s fingers slow when he sees your breathing slow down and your body coming to a stop. He pulls his fingers out slowly, admiring them covered in your cream.

Before you can stop him, he’s sucking his fingers clean. Your mouth gapes open and you laugh. “You’re nasty.” It’s more from being flustered than honesty.

“When I said take care of my granddaughter, I didn’t mean like this.” You both jump apart, each emanating a form of a yelp.

You pull your skirt down and Buck steps back from you like he’d been burnt by a hot iron.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Buck quickly buckles his pants. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“Grandma…” you jump off the table. “We-“

“I was just coming to see if you were coming up for dinner.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe you both. We make food there!”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Buck holds his hands out in front of him. “It’s my fault.”

“You two better sanitize that table before tomorrow’s shift and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight, Evan.” She sternly points a finger at him. “And get washed up, separately, before you come to dinner.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nods. You’ve yet to say a word as you hide behind Buck, holding onto his bicep and resting your head on his back.

“This is so humiliating.” You murmur.

“Now she’s really not going to like royalty.” He sighs, turning to face you with a nervous smile.

“Don’t forget, you’re not royalty anymore.” You wink at him, forgetting what just happened for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot with shame. “How am I going to face her?”

He kisses your forehead, “At least we will face her together and honestly I’ll take this over dealing with my parents any day.”

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next part

[thewhitewitch-bitch]

In Astris Supra (Chapter I: Viam Quaeris ad Omnia Foeda et Pulchra)

Agatha Harkness x F!OC (Aislin Stuart)

Read it on AO3

Summary: "No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace." - H.P. Lovecraft Agatha Harkness is certainly not commonplace. Nor is the witch who came to Salem one cold night in the autumn of 1691. And when the two of them collide, the world will certainly never be the same. But will it be for better or for worse?

Salem, Massachusetts 1691

The stars were different in Salem. They weren't as dim as they were over Shrewsbury, though they still seemed restrained, like they couldn't shine as bright as they wanted to when the children of the Divine Mother were so restrained themselves. And the air, it hung heavy like a woolen cloak upon my shoulders as I stepped off that wretched ship and onto the fog-laden dock. There was no greeting from local folk, no word of welcome as I and a handful of others passed the harbor master and carried on to the small cluster of homes and shops. Smoke wafted from chimneys and the scent of roasting meat caught my nose as I followed the trodden path through the town. Children were nowhere in sight, contained within the confines of their homes, and with good reason, I could wager that anyone caught wandering after dark met a rather sticky end. 

No one dared meet my eye as I walked through the town, though that could have easily been attributed to the attire that I wore which had passed me off well enough as a man to sail to the New World without hinderance. I'd be a fool to say that I didn't prefer breeches to corsets, though if any onlookers got too close of a glimpse they would have tried to see me hanged by first light. 

"Return to your homes! Seek not the devil within the cover of night!" A voice called over the ringing of a crier's bell from somewhere within the rows of houses. One by one, men and women vanished as the night grew darker and the moon in its waning cast its silvery light down upon the path before me. I planted my feet, feeling the light of the moon bathe my skin as I felt raw, natural power wash over me. 

"Divine Mother, give me strength." I whispered, feeling as though pure starlight coursed through my veins. A gentle breeze kissed my cheeks as my eyes fluttered shut. The quiet that settled in Salem after the doors were all closed, and the windows were shuttered was welcome after the sloshing of the sea and roaring of the breakers for the last three months. It was grounding, solidifying, peaceful. Until it wasn't. The breeze grew into a gust then into a small gale, before it finally ceased. A knowing smirk twitched at the corner of my mouth as I opened my eyes to see that I was completely surrounded by women dressed entirely in black. 

"Bold of you to venture into a town such as Salem... sisters." I greeted, "From what I hear you're all on the verge of being burned at the stake." 

"Mind your tongue, girl." a veiled woman snapped, "You stand in the presence of the most powerful coven in the New World." 

I bit back a laugh, "Good. That means I ended up in the right place." 

"Just who do you think you are, whelp?" 

"A covenless witch of the stars," I replied with a shrug, "seeking solitude and safety." 

The veiled woman scoffed at me, "Ha! You will find neither here. Leave this land and do not return."

"Or what?" I dared to ask, sauntering up to her with a darkened expression, "You'll kill me? Because I would love to see you try."

The witch drew back her veil and revealed an older, graying woman with a pointed, stalwart face. I met her eye with a fierce gaze, my natural power flowing off me in silver wisps. To my surprise, this woman, this leader of the Salem coven, seemed to shrink beneath my glare. A flicker of fear flashed in cold, unkind eyes. I stepped away and turned to address the rest of the coven. 

"I came here to seek solitude, and I will have it. So, let's make a deal. I'll retreat into the expanse of the wood and remain there without issue. I shall not venture to Salem again, so long as you leave me in peace. And in exchange, you can go about your business as you always have, unhindered by any intervention of mine." I scanned every witch's face for any sense of doubt, any inkling of waver and found none until my hazel gaze settled upon the deep blue eyes of a girl no older than myself. She was stood beside the old crone, but her eyes were not filled with fear or indignation like the others. Instead, they gleamed with fascination and intrigue, shining bright in the darkness against her pristine pale skin, like sapphires freshly polished. I lingered on her for a moment too long, finding that my cold exterior began to crack beneath her gaze and I was willing to allow it. 

"Do we have a deal?" I asked with a far too gentle tone, my eyes still locked on her. Beside her, the crone set her veil back upon her face and nodded. 

"The terms of your agreement are acceptable. Go now and do not cross our path again." 

I allowed myself a final second to look upon the girl beside this wicked witch before tearing my eyes away to fix them on the path that would carry me into the forest beyond. My feet led themselves away from the coven, pushing through their ranks and past the array of homes and hovels. As I walked on, the chill of the night finally began to sink in past the thin white wool shirt I wore and against my will, I shivered. That shudder was accompanied by the sound of footsteps behind me, fast approaching. I paused and glanced over my shoulder to see the girl that had caught my eye chasing after me, her dark hair following behind her in long, illustrious waves. 

"Wait!" she called to me, holding up a bundle of cloth in her hands. I was almost inclined to keep walking, but my feet remained glued to the ground as she stopped mere inches from me and caught her breath. 

"You should not be here." I told her, daring to glance back at the town in the distance, "Your coven mother is not too keen on having me here. Nor am I one to be caught associating with witches who are supposed to keep their distance from me."

"My mother is a cruel and unkind woman," she answered rather harshly, "And I've never been one to follow her rules to the letter." 

I scoffed, "Well, then you and I are rather alike, it would seem." 

I turned fully to face her and found myself captivated once more, not wanting to move an inch. There was something about this girl that was... enthralling to say the least. It was as though I were coming face to face with pure, untapped power and I had no way to contain or control it, though I had the feeling that I did not want to do either. 

"What do they call you, stranger?" she asked me, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly, a delightful smile spreading across her face. 

"Aislin Stuart." I replied with a smile of my own and little bow which loosened a few strands of my brown hair from the tie at the back of my neck, "Daughter of Dorcas Topsfield, the Scourge of Shrewsbury."

Her smile grew wider and wilder. I took a slow step forward, getting within a heartbeat from her, whispering into her ear, "And what do they call you, pet?" 

Her breath hitched, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. A chuckle rose from deep in my chest as I pulled away. Her mouth hung slightly agape as I took a step back to get a good look at her again. It took a minute for her to recollect her thoughts and reply. 

"A-Agatha. Agatha Harkness." 

"Hmm," I hummed with a softened expression, "Well, Agatha, I suppose I won't see you again. Ta." 

I started to move away, but she stretched out her hand and caught my arm with surprising deftness. 

"Wait, I, uh, wanted to give you this." she offered up the bundle of black, heavy cloth in her arms, which upon quick inspection was a warm, winter cloak, "Winter is nigh upon us, and it would seem you don't possess the proper clothing for the cold months ahead."

I took hold of the rough wool, my hand brushing against hers as I did, sending a spark up my arm and into my chest. The air became heavy again, though not due to the fear of the Salemites behind me. This was a comfortable heavy, one that shielded me from the cold for only a split second before the chill of the autumn air came rushing back. 

"Thank you." I said softly. Taking the cloak into my arms, I tossed over my shoulders and immediately felt the cut of the wind come to an end. "I suppose I should be off."

"Can I see you again?" Agatha asked me quickly. Looking back into her brilliant blue eyes, I felt a flutter in my chest. I had come here to escape other witches, only to end up being entranced by one as soon as I arrived. I took hold of a ring on my right hand, crafted from fine silver bearing a gleaming white pearl.

Holding it up to my lips, I whispered, "Invenias quod petis apud me in manu tua."

Stepping back toward her, I pressed the ring into her palm and closed her fingers around it, "When you wish to find me, simply put on the ring and it will show you your path. When you wear it, all roads shall lead to me."

I released her hand and stepped away, vanishing from sight before she lifted her eyes from the ring back to the road.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

She sought me out three days later. It had given me enough time to venture far enough into the wood that I would remain untouched by any who dared to seek me out, while also granting me the opportunity to make use of a summoning spell to establish a sturdy enough shelter until I was able to conjure something permanent. A heavy frost coated the leaf litter on the floor that morning, casting an ethereal shimmer across the wood as I sat upon a rotting oak stump and took in my surroundings.

The protection circle had continued to do its job, I had remained undisturbed during the night. The small fire that I had built was steadily growing as I continued to feed it, heating up the kettle I had hung on an iron hook. Freshly snared rabbit was roasting on a small wire spit, the scent of its roasting flesh making my mouth water as I readied a cup for morning tea. The forest was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves when a squirrel skittered past, or a deer came by to investigate. Glancing up at the sky, I could see that it was going to a clear day, a good day. It had been a long time since I had had one of those. 

The kettle began to whistle, I grasped hold of the rag-wrapped handle and filled my cup. The calming scent of black tea, calendula, and cornflower wafted up to my nose, the heat radiating from the cup warming my hands as I raised it to my lips and took a careful sip. 

"I hope you have enough to share." 

My head whipped around to see Agatha Harkness standing at the edge of my circle, a gentle, innocent smile on her face as she stood with a deep violet shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She was entrancing in the dark of night, but in the light of day, she was as radiant as the sun. Her dark brown hair shone brightly in the pale autumn light, her porcelain skin pristinely white. The shawl meant to stave off the morning chill covered most of her, though I could see the intricate black lacework of her gown's bodice peeking through it. 

"Transite in sacrarium meum, et estote suscipite." I said, gesturing to the space next to me on the stump, "I have plenty to share. Come, sit." 

With a snap of my fingers, a second cup floated up from its place amongst the personal effects I had summoned over to where the kettle was. Without lifting a finger, the kettle filled the cup and returned to its place. Agatha cautiously stepped past the ring of white stones and found no resistance upon passing fully through. Taking the cup from its place in midair she lowered herself next to me and took a sip, letting the warm liquid bring some life back into her chilled bones.

"You know I wasn't completely convinced that your little spell would work but," she glanced down at the ring nestled perfectly upon her right middle finger, "as soon as I put it on, I felt a pull in my chest, and it led me here."

"Well, I certainly wasn't going to lie to you. I only lie to those who deserve to be lied to." I replied simply, "I haven't known you very long, but I see no reason why you shouldn't be told the truth."

"Ah, then you and my mother would be quite at odds. She refuses to teach me." 

I arched a curious brow, "What witch would refuse to teach her child the craft?" 

Agatha's grip on her teacup became tense, her eyes remained downcast. She was withholding something, though what it was I couldn't be sure. I watched her sit in abject silence for a while, until she finally worked up the courage to speak again.

"My magic is dark. It aligns with evil, and because of this my mother will not teach me."

I had heard an eerily similar story many years ago. My own mother's tale of how she came to acquire her power was one of turmoil, anguish, and death. Over the centuries, she had become known to lure witches into her thrall, tell them she was establishing a coven, then like a leech to an ill man's neck drew every drop of magic from them and absorbed it for herself. The corpses piled high outside the cottage where I was born. I'm sure if I were to return to that place tucked within the forests outside Shrewsbury, they would have grown higher still. 

"My mother refused to teach me as well." I confessed, " She is a proponent of the dark arts, using power to gain more power. But my magic is rare, volatile, more in tune with the eldritch magic of sorcerers. It's as ever changing as the phases of the moon and it takes a great deal of self-discipline to master, something my mother disregards entirely. I had to spend some time studying with the Ancient One in Kamar-Taj to truly understand it myself. But... in time you could learn to master yourself as well." 

"You would teach me?" Agatha's tone suddenly became hopeful, excited even as her eyes met mine. I nearly choked on the sip of tea I had just taken, coughing up my drink onto the frost-laden ground at my feet. My gaze fixed on my shoes, drifted back up once I had regained my ability to breathe again. 

"I... apologize." I said with a hoarse tone. "But I'm not much of a teacher, Agatha Harkness." 

"Well, I'm not much of a student, Aislin Stuart," she answered smartly, a smirk dressed upon her face, "but I'd be willing to walk this unknown path if you walk it with me." 

A tightness formed in my chest. My heart pounded against my ribcage. I couldn't turn away from her, and she knew it.

"Very well then. Down the road we'll go. Our own secret coven of two." 

Part of me wished that I had leaned toward divination in that time, perhaps then I would have seen what was to come. The passion, the anger, the heartache that would certainly arise from it all... but knowing it wouldn't have made a difference. There was truly no way to predict what Agatha Harkness would do.

I only wish I had known it sooner. 

[caryelwesslittletoupe]

*rings bell like the town crier*

DADDY HATH DEBUTED A NEW HAIR SYSTEM!

I REPEAT, DADDY HATH DEBUTED A NEW HAIR SYSTEM!!!

*ding! Ding!! DING!!!*

[meltedvinyls]

ringing a bell and shouting out into the tumblr void is like being the worlds shittiest town crier

goddamn did i miss this

[nindabob]

Last night the church near where I work kept ringing its bells for like 10mins. A guy came out of his house, looked at me from his door and said "Sorry miss, but did the pope die?"

I consult the scrolls (Reddit) and answer no, he's just sick

"Hmm" says the guy. "Strange that the bells are ringing." I agree.

that was such a bonkers moment like i suddenly felt like a medieval town crier. like someone five hundred years ago could have had this conversation (minus the Reddit)

[teriwrites]

The Blind Oracle: Dream

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2024 Novel

Opening on a vision, god bless

'You will approach the hectic bustling of the marketplace. Its once-familiar maze now overwhelms you, boisterous shouts of vendors over loud haggling over the cries of livestock a dizzying cacophony. You dread every step bringing you closer, but it draws you in like a riptide. A town crier will stand on the outskirts of the market. One of their numbers are often there, proving their prowess as the kingdom's latest news soars over the dissonance. This particular crier is still unrolling his scroll, eyes darting across the page to devour each word as it appears. You see his eyes go wide, not in shock, but in confirmation; he's already surmised the news, but to see it laid out so plainly still strikes him with a force. The ringing bell will blare through the square. Nearby, vendors and customers alike lower their voices from screaming matches to mere loud conversations. His voice will crack as he attempts to begin. You've drawn about even with him as he clears his throat to try again. You will clasp a hand over your right ear just as he calls out, "Oyez! Oyez, Oyez! By Royal proclamation, the great King Rhydderch has declared that a draft of Fendwyth's eligible men be instituted! All men between the age of fifteen and fifty are required to report for their local enlistment [tent] to determine whether they are able to join the King's forces!" Tumult will break among the crowds before the crier even has the opportunity to announce where the [tents] are to be situated. A shriek rises from somewhere within the market. The young man - more boy than man, though he'll be called to fight anyways - selling pheasants out of cages flings behind his table to violently retch. The stench mingles with sweat and panic, a nauseating aroma that brings your eyes to water. You blink back tears as the masses flood around you, bees swarming without a hive. The coming months will bring more of this, you will think to yourself. War lies heavy on the air.' (a delight, as always)

Madooooc you just spilled ink all over the table in your dumb vision

Lowri, one of the Oracle scribes, is very chill about it

This clearly happens a lot lol

'Madoc was already convinced that he'd never learn how to reliably make sense of the countless words that ran across the pages of her books. Lowri's reaction to his obvious frustration remained the same. She let him mutter under his breath until he'd tired himself out, then swooped in with the obvious solution to his struggles. Madoc didn't know yet whether he liked or resented her patience.' (probably both)

'Madoc opened his mouth, but something made him pause. He'd very rarely shared what he'd seen before discovering what the visions meant; the images were already so real, speaking about them only ever felt like willing them into existence. Not that refusing to do so had ever prevented their coming true.' a superstitious man

His relaying the events to Lowri needs to be in only the most objective details - they have to start over multiple times because he keeps getting off-track

Jump ahead to the first symposium!

Newly-inducted Oracles have to sit in the front row for like a month of these weekly events so that they can get a close look at everything that happens

Rhonwen (the Prophet) waltzes in a lil late and has to leave early, classic busy-head-of-the-ranks

Oracles chosen at random will read the anonymous visions and basically it involves a discussion over meaning throughout the order

The first one read aloud is a vision of the Oracle standing at the front of the Palace, beside another (teenage) Oracle, everything very extravagantly decorated and nobility milling about. A Chief from one of the kingdom's territories arrives, but the actual guests of honor have not shown up yet

Which means it's likely political in nature (Oracles being present), but can't be confidential (for as low a ranking Oracle as the teen to be there), probably involving a foreign entity (even a high-ranking Chief coming in from out-of-town not being the guest of honor), and happening relatively soon (teenager being roughly the same age in the vision)

"It's the initial welcoming feast for some type of political council. Whether allied or otherwise, you would likely form a better judgment." Lowri sat up, head lowered in deference but eyes alight with a slight challenge. "Has the King planned for any convening with our neighbors?" oop Lowri and Rhonwen clearly have some kind of tension going on

Yeah things got Tense

The Prophet of the Halls of Augury is one of the members of the King's council of advisors

Madoc's vision is the next to be shared heck yeah!

Oh shit people are upset

"War?" one of the Oracles behind Madoc was demanding. "Is the King out of his mind?" "Don't speak of him like that," another hissed. "Surely he must've had some reason. With the tensions along the border, it's only a matter of time before something gives. It's foolish to pretend otherwise." "Careful who you're calling foolish." "So the King's allowed to be made a fool, but you're not?" (call them out!)

Lowri and Rhonwen are nearly at each other's throats again bc Lowri thinks the Oracles should be clued into more of the King's political movements

Lowri just stormed out

The Symposium ends quickly after that, ig there were only two visions this week

Fin catches him after the meeting and explains that basically there's always been a struggle between Lowri and Rhonwen because of their opposing ideas of how to best approach the Oracle involvement in the Monarchy

Rhonwen is legally only allowed to share as much as the King gives her leave to and believes that he ultimately has the final judgment over their guidance, Lowri believes knowledge should be more evenly distributed

'In his life, Madoc had given as much thought to the progression of the Fendwyth Kingdom as he had to charting out the stars in the night sky. That was to say, none at all.' (yeah that's not really a concern for a guy just trying to make enough money to survive)

Oop Fin has some more information to share that's a little less public

Or isn't as appropriate to discuss in public

"The reason [Lowri] got so up-in-arms against the Prophet is because there are rumors circulating about King Rhydderch's plans for how to handle the Aldburne issue." "Aldburne issue?" Fin hesitated, studying Madoc's blank expression for a long moment. He started to speak several times, only to stop again. Finally, he asked, "Do you know anything about the Aldburne Empire?" "Only that they're one of our neighbors." Madoc had heard the name thrown out occasionally by street criers, but otherwise had never had reason to think of them. Relief flooded Fin's face, and Madoc realized he'd genuinely been preparing for him to have never heard of it.' (on a scale from 'Ghislaine Agassi as a proficient foreign diplomat across Irim' to 'Madoc Medwin as a lower-class citizen who's never even seen most of the city he was raised in, much less the rest of the Fendwyth Kingdom', how self-aware is your protagonist to your worldbuilding?)

Small lore drop: the Aldburne Empire invaded Fendwyth's borders like twenty years ago and snatched up a sizable chunk of farmland, and the kingdom has suffered for it since

King Rhydderch has always threatened to take it back, but now he's actually having a lot more private meetings that have people thinking he might actually mean it this time

Oh, this will be relevant later, but in this scene, Madoc and Fin are standing on a balcony on the Halls' second floor, looking down, down, down to the street far below (the Halls sit on a tall hill)

'Madoc leaned against the door, pressing himself as far from the edge of the balcony as he could find. The thoughts of coming war and unrest felt unstable enough without standing along a precipice.' funny how i keep giving characters fear of heights, yet i've never particularly dealt with that

Ooooooh yes okay another fun scene, this time with Gareth

"What do you know about the Aldburne Empire?" Gareth turned to him in surprise. "I just asked you how you're adjusting." Madoc waved away his brother's concern with a roll of his eyes. Tossing him a candied date, he leaned back against the step he'd reclined on. "It's relevant. I swear." (you can tell i was really sticking to my guns with this period-appropriate dialogue /s)

"What I've heard is that the King is looking to form an alliance to try pushing back." so Gareth is a guard for the Halls of Augury, but the guards here often are pals with the guards of the Palace, which is just a hike down the road

AKA this information is more reliable than if it was coming from, like, some rando in the marketplace

But who would he form an alliance with?

Another neighbor! The Kingdom of Brevorn - another neighbor to both Fendwyth and Alburne, similar in size and strength to Fendwyth, unclear what their motives would be at this point other than maybe just weakening the really strong empire at their door

"Then war really is on the horizon," Madoc muttered between bites. A fog drifted across the cityscape below, muffling the typical clamor of daily business. Madoc imagined the mist as smoke, enveloping Cebryn in its hungry maw. After a notable silence, he looked up to see Gareth watching him uneasily.' (key thing to note - at this point, Madoc does Not remember that ol' vision he had in the prologue, like a dozen years ago. but i liked the idea of him naturally just gravitating to imagining smoke and fire without knowing why - he can't truly escape it)

Okay, actually, here's some more of the scene

'A warning bell cleared the smoke away. Quickly, stumbling over his words, he blurted out, "I shouldn't have said that! It was only musing, really, there's no proof. Just a vision someone had. Don't share that!" Silence spread between the brothers. Madoc's hands were still outspread, as though he could snatch back what he'd said. Gareth, meanwhile, kept a solemn gaze locked on his face. "I wasn't going to spread it," Gareth finally said in a low voice. An edge of something sharpened his words. Irritation? Offense at having been accused of gossip, maybe? That was likely it. "Of course not, I wouldn't suggest - " he began, but trailed off as Gareth waved the concern away. "It's nothing, Mad." Gareth twisted around to push himself up from the stairs. "But I really should get back to my post. I'll be back on duty in a half hour, and I still need to go strap my chest plate back on." He was gone in a moment, disappearing into the Halls. Madoc let him go, looking back over the hazy sea below. Something pricked at the back of his mind. Something hidden in Gareth's expression. Wariness, maybe, but not at the prospect of war. It was more like he was cautiously skirting around Madoc, expecting some reaction that he didn't give. And more, Madoc felt that he'd seen this expression cross his brother's face before, glimpses before he'd break out in a too-wide grin. Cupping his chin in his hands, he let the bag of dates slump and spill onto the stairs. A couple rolled down a few steps before slowing to rest along the staircase. Madoc watched the clouds slowly drift along the streets, allowing the soothing pace of it calm the agitation that lay uneasily in the back of his mind. But even as it cleared, its absence revealed a shred of something ominous, some hidden piece that watched him with the same fixed expectation as his brother. It, too, struck him as having been there longer than he was aware. But as he mentally grabbed for it, it disappeared back into the unreachable depths. The only impression it left was that of the fog below, curling and climbing like smoke. The muffled calls and cries of the people below could almost be wailing. Pulling back out of his thoughts, Madoc realized he was shivering as with cold. His hands brushed against the stone of the stairs as he snatched the dates, and the crackling of numbness sparked through his fingertips. Clambering jerkily to his feet, Madoc quickly retreated back towards the Halls, unsure of his aim. But any form of distraction would be a welcome one.' (a first draft, but like i like this sort of vibe for where he's at rn)

The next morning, Rhonwen calls for an unexpected meeting!

Here we go!

Turns out literally everyone has been right - King Rhydderch wants to retake the 'Aedion' region that Aldburne stole, with the assistance of Brevorn

"But it is the King's opinion - and my own, of course" what a loser monarchist

Also, some envoys are coming from Brevorn to discuss these matters, because obviously they can't just make this decision without talking it over

blahblah Oracles are being brought into the closest confidence blahblah gotta keep quiet about things blahblah yay war blahblah

Another lil time jump between scenes to the arrival of the Brevornish envoys, who are processing through the thoroughfare on their way to the Palace

Most of the people watching are the younger members of the ranks

FINALLY someone asks what Brevorn is getting out of all of this

Nobody has an answer lol but also tbf they're not the ones on the King's council, they wouldn't know

Omgggggg here they come!

'Several knights rode along on horseback to lead the small parade, armor polished so finely that it shone in the midday sun and reflected all the way up the hill. Each dappled horse wore a decorative caparison of purple, which matched the long feathers sticking out of the knights' helms. Behind them, footmen marched in rows, some carrying instruments and others with their hands brushing against hilts of rapiers. Their tunics were dyed a similar, deep purple hue. As they all filled the street, a massive carriage emerged from the obstruction of the squat guard house. Its frame had either been painted or forged from silver, even more radiant and blinding than the knights'. A flagpole had been attached to the back of the carriage, allowing a large banner to flutter against the wind. Madoc's heart stopped beating as the wind hurtled it open, revealing its insignia. A deep purple flag, nearly black where it wasn't caught by the light, bisected in the center by an upright, silver spear. Madoc choked into a violent coughing fit, moments before he could even place the sight. The vision returned to him in flashes. Desperately climbing the stairs - these stairs - to escape the burning city streets. The smoke, so thick that every breath seared his throat. The fires, enormous and spreading, swallowing the whole of Cebryn. The woman. Her desperation, running to the enemy in search of mercy. Her screaming, cut off with a strangled choke. The enemy, soldiers of silver and purple.' (siri, play 'It's All Coming Back to Me Now' by Cher)

He somehow wound up back in his room, with zero memory of getting there, and he's retched onto the floor. ew.

'A mop, Madoc thought weakly. He needed a mop. The thought drew out a startled cackle of laughter. A gasp cut it off, spasms of breath that wouldn't fill his lungs. Leaning down farther, nearly sitting on his ankles, Madoc choked on air, and he laughed. The Kingdom of Fendwyth was falling, and he was worried about polishing the floors. It hasn't fallen yet, Madoc reminded himself. But a voice crept into the back of his mind, a presence revealing itself after a dozen years of hiding in the recesses. It will.' (i tell you what, i love writing a character in distress)

See, this is probably the weakest part of this draft, though

I couldn't really draw on anything strongly enough to justify him not immediately telling someone about what he saw

(Tbf, there's not really any justification for keeping something that big a secret, but, like, with enough pressure from the elite to encourage the war, with enough self-doubt and imposter syndrome left festering and rotting within him for half his life, or if that's flipped and he shows obvious distrust of the elitism, if he twists it around into a sort of superiority for feeling more connected to the actual people of the kingdom and doesn't want the Oracles' involvement, I could at least make more sense of it)

Currently, it's just a Lot of questions

'Could he remember everything he'd seen? Was there any way to prove that the forgotten vision hadn't been a nightmare? Were some of the details filled in with the expectation of war?' / 'Who would he tell? Could he make anyone believe him, in a vision from nearly half his lifetime ago?' / 'And if you err? the voice whispered, somehow still audible over the roaring of fire. What if you mistook the insignia? Could you damn the King's honored guests? What if falsely accusing them leads to this destruction? Would you damn yourself for the chance at playing hero?'

'Shifting his hands, Madoc covered his face. He shook his head, but in the dark, the brightness of fire silhouetted soldiers.' bro just wait until act 5 to see some Real crazy

Awww he's trying to figure out who to tell

'Rhonwen. He'd tell the Prophet directly. Surely, she'd dealt with uncertainty in her ranks before. She'd know how to handle it. Her priority is first and foremost to the Kingdom. If she finds it in danger, she will do what she sees fit. Faceless, the presence smiled sardonically. Is that decision best left up to her? "Fin, then!" Madoc whispered aloud, his voice hoarse. The door to his room opened. The very man stood there, eyebrows raised. "You really are a divinator!" (nothing like a little humor to break through the intensity)

He doesn't tell Fin

He thinks Fin will do the same as all the rest of the Oracles, which would be to panic

Because obviously Madoc's not panicking lol

AHA!

First sighting of literally paraphrasing the lyrics of one of the songs i used in the playlist for this project: 'He had to tell him. The urgency pressed at the base of Madoc's throat like a blade. He struggled against it.' / 'But the sight held me fixed like a bayonet against my throat' (Pale White Horse by The Oh Hellos)

I never said they were good paraphrases! But there are so many more where that came from

'Others' visions would tell of the coming of war. If treachery was to be found, Madoc would not be the only one to recognize it. But he would also not be the one to introduce the seed of doubt and destroy any objectivity of the order. When Fin returned, he found Madoc already mopping up the mess with old rags. As he offered to finish the job, hoisting up the mop and bucket, Madoc smiled brightly, radiantly. "I can handle it!" Madoc promised.' (that's totally reassuring and believable)

Ending Thoughts:

I definitely was still flailing a little in this act, but I think I was starting to find my footing by the end of it. As someone who usually gets very invested in trying to flesh out the larger story and setting, the fact is that, none of that is really all that directly relevant to this story. The Fendwyth Kingdom as a whole matters significantly less than the inner workings of the Oracles. And even the Oracles matter less than Madoc's very subjective ideas about them. This is not a fantasy like The Lies in the Legend is a fantasy, or even Beyond Alder Creek is a fantasy. The Blind Oracle is really just meant to fixate on lil Madoc and how he justifies his own choices to himself. Choices that will get more fun as time goes on!

[skaruresonic]

you guys ever find it wild how every time a new IDW issue drops, folks have to crawl out of the woodwork ringing their town crier's bells like "hear ye, hear ye, IDW haterz still suck"

meanwhile all you're doing is sitting there watching Breaking Bad

[janeway-lover]

*ringing a bell like the town crier*

New fic! Get your new fic here, hot off the presses!

All This, I Offer To You

[tanjir0se]

Unironically another fantastic thing for my creative process has been making stupid little press releases for my stupid bullshit like it’s urgent news and everyone should care. I’m like a town crier ringing a bell and shouting on your dash like HEAR YE HEAR YE. THE GOODE LADY OF THE MANOR HATH GRACED US WITH YET ANOTHER GOOGLETH DOC FULL OF YON BULLSHIT. LOOK UPON IT AND WEEP.

[majesticearth]

Title: "Werk Through Time"

Scene: 17th-century Puritan village square, somewhere cold, beige, and deeply uptight.

INT. VILLAGE SQUARE – DAY

A crowd has gathered. Everyone wears the color of oatmeal. The town crier is ringing a bell, yelling something about sin. Suddenly, a loud BZZZZZT sounds in the air and—POOF!—a glittery portal explodes open.

Out steps RuPaul, in full Renaissance drag: brocade, ruffles, sky-high wig, and heels that would break the Ten Commandments.

RUPAUL

(strutting)

What in the Little House on the Misery is going on here?

TOWN CRIER

Witchcraft!! A tall enchantress with a cloud for hair!

RUPAUL

(correcting)

Enchantress? Thank you. Witch? Please. I’m just your fairy godmother with a contour.

MAYOR GRUMPINGTON, a man with no chin and a passion for repression, points accusingly.

MAYOR GRUMPINGTON

She speaks in riddles! And rhinestones! Arrest her!

RUPAUL

Honey, the only thing that should be arrested is your fashion sense. You look like oatmeal and regret had a baby.

VILLAGER #1

But... is it a man or a woman?

RUPAUL

Why not both, sweetheart? Or neither. Gender’s a costume and I look FABULOUS in all of them.

The villagers gasp. One faints. A child claps.

VILLAGER #2

(blinking)

But... but what if I want to be fabulous?

RUPAUL

Then baby—you WERK that bonnet and never let their dusty rules dim your sparkle.

Mayor Grumpington tries to rally.

MAYOR GRUMPINGTON

We have rules! Modesty! Obedience!

RUPAUL

(sashaying up to him)

You have issues. And trust me, trying to burn me at the stake will NOT work—I’m fireproof and emotionally unavailable.

Suddenly, glitter bursts from Ru’s heels. A rainbow arches overhead. The townspeople fall silent, mesmerized.

RUPAUL

Now listen up, buttercups. I came here by accident, but I’m leaving you with the gift of self-expression, body glitter, and the knowledge that YES, you can love yourself... even if your dad's beard is the town's main export.

VILLAGER #3

(stammering)

What if we don’t know how to love ourselves?

RUPAUL

Then how the hell you gonna love somebody else?! Can I get an amen?

VILLAGERS

(together, confused but inspired)

...Amen?

RUPAUL

That’ll do. Now, back through the glitter hole I go. I’ve got a tea dance in 2120.

She blows a kiss, twirls, and vanishes in a puff of sparkle, leaving only a feather boa and a copy of Untucked: The Gospel According to RuPaul behind.