#this is an excellent game and I dearly wish more people get to play it bc it's a lot of fun and has fantastic characters and writing

[mapoeggplant]

thoughts and small review on tokyo babylon // spoilers

not even the kindest of hearts can survive the trick of destiny: clamp once again shows how they excel with the creation of magic and a huge universes.

one thing that i absolute adore abou clamp's writing is how they are able to create this whole new world from start to finish and make all the stories inside of it plausible and connected. the sensation of getting in contact with everything they ever created and recognizing characters and stories are one of the most beautiful things about reading their work, specially when you read one after another. it took me a while to read tokyo babylon after i read some of their other works from the same universe, but the feeling was there nonetheless.

TB was a surprise. i am very used to clamp's playful writing that adds very political themes to their magic, but i wasn't expecting to find so many in a story from 1990. it discusses from consequences of abuse, be it sexual or familiar; the growing housing crisis that affected (and still do) whole tokyo, leading people to their extreme; xenophobia, when they talk about how immigrants aren't seen as real people since they can't speak the language; and so many other political debates. this was the best surprise to me, for sure.

another thing i usually really like about clamp's work is how they value individuality and emphasize how each person's pain cannot be compared to or felt by another, since it belongs only to the person who feels it. of course, there is empathy and ways of associating, but never denying or belittling someone else's pain, since we are not in their shoes to feel it. the siblings dynamic was beautiful. it's heartwarming to see how much love and respect the twins have for each other and how they will do anything to save the sibling they love so dearly, even dying in their place. hokuto's final moments brought tears to my eyes, specially when i saw her body on seishirou's arms.

now, to the elephant in the room: i don't think the romantic feelings between subaru and seishiro is very clear to me yet. let me explain.

i know that the narrative shifts on X and the development of their relationship begins to change, but in my opinion, the plot surrounding both, up to now, was based on grooming and manipulation. seishirou was playing emotional games with subaru with the intention of fulfilling his wish and only that, just to challenge himself and his nature. he even manipulated and played with hokuto, making her an ally, which was one of the reason that lead her to her death, since bearing the thought that she was the one to bring seishiro and subaru closer was way too much for her to handle. she died carrying an immense guilt. i also don't think subaru understand exactly if he loves seishirou's romantically yet, and the moment when he stops to try to understand it and say "i do love him", he was under the influence of all his spell, as if he was lead to believe that

what he felt was romantic because of all the little games seishiro played with him, pushing his fake feelings into him. subaru's love is completely tied and mixed with his guilt, since he considers himself to be the reason why seishirou is blind in one eye. it's not that subaru didn't care about seishiro: no, he did. he considered him to be someone very important to him, i just don't think it was romantic. and this gets a little clear to me when he lets himself to be killed, not even reacting or fighting back, which i do believe one of the reasons why is because he so full of guilt and compassion for this man that he believe he loved romantically and was the reason why his whole life changed.

i also want to say that despite what it might have sound, i do like seishirou and i think he's an amazing character, very well constructed, bringing a lot of clamp's skills with writing complex characters that navigates through very grayish areas. the more he revealed to be hiding things, the more i wanted to know more about him.

i'm very excited to start X now, because i feel i'll have a lot more answers. not only about subaru and seishiro's relationship, but also more about hokuto's death, their whole family dynamic, sakurazuka's clam and so much more.

thank you for reading up to here!! it will be a pleasure to discuss it with you if you feel like it 💛 don't forget to support the authors!!!

EDIT: i want to make something clear since I did had this discussion with some people (which i'm not complaining, i looooove discussing). i'm not here to deny the canon confirmation that seishirou and subaru are in love with each other and are a canon couple. i know about it and I'm sure X will give me a way better clarity over the topic. it's just my interpretation on tokyo babylon, which doesn't mean I'm denying canon. don't worry!!

[loregoddess]

Reverse unpopular opinion: anything about Triangle Strategy

The fandom's small enough that luckily there isn't too much hate for weird stuff in this game that I've come across as of yet, so I'll just gush about some things I think are neat.

The entire mechanics setup is really fun and challenging, and I love that things like weather and elevation can affect damage output because it added an entirely different layer of strategy than what I was used to. I found myself really having to think about how to complete maps, and how they couple be completed with vastly different strategies depending on which units were deployed.

It's also really neat that the classes aren't really like, actual rpg classes in the sense that you can class-change and therefore rearrange a unit's stats. By having each character locked to their own unique class it was more like getting 30 unique characters who I could figure out to how use on their own unique build, rather than trying to learn a class system and then slam-dunking my favorite characters into my favorite classes. This got me to actually pay attention to how each character was different, and figure out their strengths and weaknesses and which other characters they could synergize with in battle. For example, having Ezana and Frederica in the same group was difficult because I liked having Ezana change the weather to up the damage on her other spells, but this negated Frederica's Clear Skies skill; however Ezana's ability to cause windstorms would help boost Archibald's damage if he had the Raging Winds skill.

Also I really enjoyed not having to manage weapons or armor outside of the blacksmith mechanics because I love to micromanage in jrpgs (or really, any game that will let me do so) but it's also wildly time-consuming, and I found the ability to just level up a person's unique weapon far less stressful than trying to figure out who gets what weapon and why. Likewise, having all the character stats on fixed growth rates rather than something like FE's rng-based stat growths was nice as well, since I vastly prefer fixed stat grows to rng-based growths.

More than anything, I was really impressed with the story, especially how the dev's managed to marry the actual game mechanics with the game story. Having the core values of each decision be hidden in the first run was really nice, because I felt I could just choose whatever option I wanted without trying to "get" a certain type of outcome or value, and it made the voting sections of the game more like a puzzle to figure out with trying to sway people, and it was interesting that failure just led to a different story outcome rather than like, some sort of punishment to the player for not being good enough at figuring out which sort of argument worked on which character. Of course, I also liked that the NG+ unveiled all the internal mechanics and carried over the value scores, since by that time I was more interested in recruiting the last of the characters I could based on value scores alone, and being able to sway people even if I didn't select the right dialogue choice (because I had a high enough value score in whichever department) made it much easier to get the exact path I wanted. In fact, this game has one of the best NG+ replay set of mechanics that I've played so far.

I also liked that most choices felt like there wasn't a "good" or "right" path to take. It really helped to set the mood for how serious and dire the situation of the story was, and brought to life a "no one wins in war" feeling that I think is sometimes lacking in stories with wartime settings. It's interesting to watch the cause and effect cascade from the very early game down to the penultimate Ch17 decision, sometimes in the most tragic ways possible. And while I enjoyed the somber undertones of the three non-golden endings and the sense of "this still wasn't a solution to the problem, and others will arise", I loved the sense of hope provided by the golden ending, both in the internal story logic of "there exists a good ending for these characters" and in the external sense that hope is never beyond reach.

[venteamocha]

Thanks so much for the IF recs! I'd absolutely take a second post of recommendations for Twine games too if you're willing to share! <3

Of course!!

I... actually like twine games better than cog based ones, in some ways, just because they tend to be fancier and prettier, and I am secretly a ferret in the body of a human and I love shinies. ADHD, baby!

I only actually know of like 12 twine games, so if there are any that anyone who sees this knows of that I didn’t list, feel free to let me know about them! There’s a chance I do know about them and just didn’t put them here, but I would rather hear one I already know of on the off chance that I’ll get a new one dropped in.

That said! Another list of games I really like that is again in no particular order!

They’re all on itch.io by the way! They tend to work better if you download them but most can be run in your browser and most are also mobile friendly so you can play them on your phone! I’ll note which ones are.

Scout: An Apocalypse Story: I love dystopia stories, I dearly wish we had more IF based in this kind of setting. Set in a wasteland that is trying to pull itself together with people trying to find out if other settlements are out there while also trying to, well, stay alive. I gotta say, I played only E’s route for a long, long time, but once I tried the other ones I haven’t really gone back. I still love E, you can pry the childhood friend trope out of my cold dead hands, but wow. Oliver. Wow. That dude has serious UST. And Sabine!! I’ve been forced out of my little “play it the same way every time” rut and I’m not sorry. I very much like that you can choose the intimacy level, as someone who’s ace. Sometimes I like reading the smut, sometimes I don’t. Options! (mobile friendly!)

Bad Ritual: I got it baaaaaaaaaad~ I do though, I love Siruud. I have terrible, terrible taste in men. I mentioned Dracula in the other list, and here there’s an actual demon. This is a game with *sass* and I always love a chance to be sassy. I think part of the reason I resonate so much with this one is because of how jaded retail has made me tbh but that’s another story.  Honestly, if you like dark settings, I recommend you play this one first of all my recommendations. It’s just such a good game and there are so many choices and even the pronoun choices are pretty varied.  It’s just good! (mobile friendly!)

Wayfarer: Another for the fantasy list! I love the worldbuilding in this one, and the character creator is just amazing. There are maps, there’s a codex, seriously if you love reading lore, this is definitely a game for you. This is like if Tolkien made an IF. It’s amazing. I’ve said that a few times but it’s true. In all honesty it might count as one that’s not so romance focused, since it does focus more on plot. If I could just sit down and make an IF, I’d want it to be like this tbh. With a beautiful framework, a well organized space of information for the players to just look at and see stuff about the world, a way to develop and build their own character in a clear cut way, and the game immediately tells you what stats are effected by what choices. I really enjoy it when games try to work in character creation in creative ways, but sometimes I just want to sit down and go, “Okay, my character has red hair, blue eyes, is short, and has a crippling phobia of lizards” and this game lets me do that. Well, except for the lizard part. (Not as mobile friendly as the others but I make it work!)

Love and Friendship: It’s a regency game and I love Pride and Prejudice. What can I say? Something about the massive amount of rules of society just gets me. Propriety! This is a game that has a set gender protagonist, female, and it actually is a bit different from the norm in that it has two female love interests and one male, when most of the time it’s the other way around. So that’s something. You can even have a platonic route with a fourth love interest, who is also male. There really aren’t enough platonic routes, but I understand why that is, since a lot of IF players are looking for romance. (mobile friendly!)

Exiled From Court: Also a bit of the same vibe simply because of how constrained everyone is by rules. Nobility, after all. There are a lot of love interests, and one is the MC’s sister’s husband, which is definitely gonna be scandalous. Will I do it? Will I? Eventually. I do like how you can act like an absolute hellion, well, as far as that goes considering. You can try to be a better person but that’s less fun, lol. (mobile friendly!)

A Tale of Crowns: This is literally one of the very first twine games I ever played. Really! It’s got a lot of wonderful intrigue and the setting is very fun. There aren’t a ton of fantasy middle eastern games, and this game is definitely one reason why we should have more. There’s a great deal of customization, and the love interests’ gender will changed based on your MC’s gender and sexuality combination. I like R & D best, and no that’s not a pun. I think. (mobile friendly!)

For the Crown: This is a different game, I swear, they just both happen to have crown in the title, lol. You get to play as an assassin, which is a great deal of fun. The lore in the game is very nice too. I tend to play with they/them pronouns though, and there were a few pronoun hiccups in the game. Seems to be an issue across all of the games made by this author, but I know how much of a pain variables can be so hopefully those will get squashed soon. There’s an explicit content choice in this one as well, and if you turn it on there is an “equipment” choice, so this is definitely gonna be spicy later on! (mobile friendly, but after each chapter the browser shifts as it auto saves. you just have to tap restore game to keep playing.)

-These games aren’t exactly twine games, but I’m putting them here because they’re visual novels that fit the IF format for the most part and are also on itch.io and I love them and for this post at least I will bend my own rules! They all have gender choice MCs and are nonbinary friendly.-

Perfumare: This game is actually being made into an IF, with the visual novel as a sort of preview of what we’re gonna get there. I literally cannot wait for that to happen, this game is so good as it is, and from what we’ve been told it’s only gonna get better. This game has an excellent world, the characters are all messy in the best ways, and ugh it has hurt me quite a bit, again in the best way.  It’s another one on the dark side of things. The powers in this game are just so fun, I dearly want a game set in this world where we can choose what powers we have! Maybe that will be in the IF, but I have a feeling the answer is no. We’ve been teased that there will be a second game with a different MC who will get to romance the characters we can’t in this one, and that alone is enough to get me to jump as soon as it drops. The love interests aren’t gender variable but there are two male ones and one female. I, a known mess, recommend Laurent for lots of repression and pain. (not mobile friendly, you gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Andromeda Six: I’ve recommended this one to pretty much everyone I know, it is such an excellent game. The cast is a mashup of misfits and makes me miss my Mass Effect crews. I specifically set my pronouns to she/her just so they’d all call me Princess. What can I say, I like it. There’s lots of pain, lots of drama, lots of world building, lots of interesting lore, and there is much breaking of cuties. Much. Can’t wait till we get to the next planet. The author has gone out of their way to say that each love interest is gonna get their own arc and will definitely get their own share of attention, so no matter who you pick you’ll have plenty of time to be with them and watch them shine. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

When the Night Comes: Not only do you get to play a badass hunter but it has multiple poly routes! Multiple! It’s rare when you get one poly in a game, this one has three! You can also choose to romance any of them individually if you so choose. It’s dark fantasy gothic, and I really really like that. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

Errant Kingdom: Made from the same dev as WTNC, this one is set in a more fantasy middle eastern setting. Very pretty, lots of intrigue. You can choose between three set protagonists, who can have three different storylines depending on your choices, which is very nice for replayability. It’s got two poly routes this time, and it works the same as their other game in that you can romance them individually if you’d rather be monogamous. (not mobile friendly, gotta play on desktop/laptop)

[erin-bo-berin]

Confidence

MASTERLIST

This was an anonymous requested fic about the scene from season 8, episode 10 when Spencer is talking to Alex Blake and obviously not feeling very great about himself. I decided to write it as a cute fluffy fic because one, I knew I needed to use this gif and two, who doesn’t love a cute, fluffy fic? Enjoy all the Spencer feels.

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 2,673

It was another run-of-the-mill day at work for you.

Another day, another case.

This week you and your fellow Behavioral Analysis teammates happened to be in Washington state, tracking down a serial murder. One that was very unusual in his ritual of kills. He would kill a male victim, usually shooting them then a female victim would follow, killed by strangulation.

The unsub definitely showed more resentment towards his female victims. He was cold, calculated and distant from the kills of the men. Almost like he was doing them a favor by killing them in such a quick way.

His method of kill for the women was more up close, personal and definitely filled with rage. He wanted the women victims to suffer for as long as possible, inflicting as much pain as possible.

The team had profiled that he was probably holding resentment to a male and female pair, someone who had wronged him in the past, most likely his parents. Whatever had happened, the unsub obviously didn’t hold as much anger for the father figure as he did for the mother figure.

You’d been following his trail for two days, new victims dropping left and right, like a convoluted scavenger hunt. You were closing in on him and he knew it; he was beginning to unravel.

You had taken a much needed break for some bad police station coffee, when you heard voices around the corner. The tiny coffee nook was partially hidden by a wall and around the wall was a table where a few of your team members sat.

You recognized Dr. Alex Blake’s voice first, followed by the smooth, deeper voice of Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Well, why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

This question came from Blake and intrigued, you eavesdropped a little while you stirred the creamer into your coffee.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” came from Reid.

“Why not?” Alex questioned.

“I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why do you think she wouldn’t?”

Alex’s question wasn’t judgemental or harsh, just full of honest curiosity.

“Because I’m weird. I slouch, my hair’s too long and my tie is perpetually crooked.”

“You are not weird,” Blake said, sounding fully like a mother at bat for her child, “And your hair is just fine. The slouching and tie can be fixed though.”

You heard Spencer laugh, knowing that Alex was just teasing him. You smiled a bit, but felt a slight heaviness to your chest. You hated that he felt that way about himself. He was an amazing individual and whoever this girl was, she would be lucky to have him. She was lucky to even have him admire her.

Spencer was definitely a brainiac. With an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and an ability to read 20,000 words a minute, his skill set was impressive. But his knowledge wasn’t the only good thing about him. He was an amazing profiler, extremely good at his work. He excelled in geographic profiles, which he often worked on during cases and his love for statistics did quite come in handy for things.

But besides work, he was a sweet and gentle guy. He was always willing to drop whatever he was doing to come aid one of his loved ones, whether it was his mother or one of his beloved teammates. Many times was Spencer there to be an emotional soundboard for you. He cared for people and things deeply, he felt them deeply, which you admired. When he was involved with something he gave it his all; he was involved in it 100%. His chess skills were quite extraordinary, as was his poker playing. You had yet to beat him in either game. He could probably win a game of Uno like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Also, even though it wasn’t the most important thing, he was attractive. You often heard women make comments about his good looks—sometimes prostitutes too, which amused you to no end—in which he’d just get flustered and confused.

At six feet tall, he was long and thin, but without being extremely lanky. His light brown hair was often in a disarray of loose curls, falling whatever direction it wanted to. His eye color was quite a mystery to you as well. You’d worked with him for years on end and still couldn’t tell if they were completely brown or a hazel hue. Depending on the light or colors he wore, you noticed they had a tendency to look anywhere from a deepend brown, to a honeyed light brown to even a glowing green. He was insanely lucky with the facial features department too; he had a sharp jawline and nicely shaped, plump lips that women would kill to have naturally. Speaking of, his natural lashes were a joke. They were long and beautiful, framing his eye nicely. They made you insanely jealous because if you had been blessed with lashes so nice, you’d never have to wear fake lashes ever again.

All in all though, you knew he had the biggest heart you’d ever seen. Despite all his quirks and antics, he had a never ending love for his work and his teammates, a love that always continued to expand as people came and went. 

You couldn’t see how this mystery girl couldn’t see that in him.

Your thoughts had caused you to miss parts of the conversation, so when you tuned back into the conversation, you heard Spencer speaking again.

“I just don’t want to ruin something good,” he sounded dejected.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Alex said, “Is it worth you always wondering what could’ve happened if you never tried?”

“I guess not.”

“Then take a chance. You just might be surprised.”

You didn’t hear her departure, but when it fell silent you figured she’d walked away. You decided to make your presence known in an inconspicuous way.

You picked up your styrofoam coffee cup and rounded the corner, seeing Spencer’s attention back on the book in front of him. You sat down across from him.

“Need any help?”

He looked up, shaking his head.

“No. Thanks though. You have a death wish or something?”

“What?” you chuckled.

He motioned to the cup in your hand.

“The coffee. It tastes like warm, wet mud.”

You grimaced down into your cup, your desire for some coffee now gone. His description wasn’t all that off anyway; it was horrible coffee.

“I’m making a coffee run later, I’ll make sure to get you some of the good stuff.”

You smiled appreciatively.

“Thanks.” 

He moved to turn the page, when you spoke again.

“So I overheard your conversation with Blake.”

He winced, “You did?”

You nodded, setting the coffee cup aside and lacing your fingers together on the tabletop in front of you.

“So who is she?” you smiled.

He hesitated as if contemplating how he should answer.

“You don’t know her.”

“Well are you gonna ask her out?”

He shrugged a bit.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I’m with Alex,” you encouraged, “You should totally go for it.”

He smiled shyly, like a timid school boy with a crush on a fellow classmate. It made you happy to see him so happy.

“You just need to have a little confidence in yourself. Don’t beat yourself up, you’re a great guy, Spence.”

“You think?”

“I know,” you corrected, “This girl is incredibly lucky.

You noticed that he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, even as he looked back down to the text.

“Would you do it if I helped you out a little?”

“Helped me out?” He looked up at you confused and perhaps just a tad bit curious.

“Yeah. Like helped you gain a little confidence before you ask her.”

“Really? You’d do that?” he paused, wary, “Why though?”

“Because Spencer, whoever this girl is, I can tell she makes you incredibly happy. Besides you deserve that happiness so much.”

“That means a lot,” he said lowly, “Thank you.”

“So, why don’t you tell me about this girl?”

He opened his mouth to answer you, but before he could speak Hotch zoomed past you two, talking as he walked.

“Garcia got a hit on the partial license plate. She found the address for our unsub. Let’s go.”

You jumped up, both of you following after him.

It was time to catch this son of a bitch; self-esteem lessons would have to wait until later.

•

The BAU had made it to the unsub’s residence just in the nick of time.

Leroy Fleming was moments away from ending the life of a young woman, who was thankfully saved in time. He had a sordid life with his parents. Parents who most likely had no business having a child.

His mother abused alcohol, drugs and Leroy. She would hit him any chance he got. His father always turned a blind eye, yet he loved his father dearly. He held a grudge against him though because the man never had enough courage nor dignity to leave the mother or the volatile situation.

“Guess that was imprinted on him in his early life. The trigger for his rage,” Spencer said.

You groaned, rubbing your side. You had tackled Leroy after he’d ran from the authorities. It was an impressive move that surprised even yourself, but you were paying the price now.

“You okay?” 

Both of his hands held onto the strap of his satchel as he walked next to you, looking over at you concernedly. 

“Yeah, just some bruises and sore muscles. Nothing fatal. Now, isn’t it time to tell me all about that girl you have a thing for?”

He grimaced, opening the door for you to the BAU unit.

“Do I have to?”

“Come on. Just think of it as an exercise. Besides we never did have time to go get some actual good coffee. How about making a run now before we have to do all the paperwork?”

“Alright. Just let me stop by my desk, okay?”

“Sounds good. I’ll just go wait by the elevator.” You smiled, walking back out of the bullpen.

Spencer caught Alex’s eye just as he was leaving his desk a few minutes later. She sent him a knowing smile causing one to form on his lips as well.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

•

After ordering your coffees and receiving them, you and Spencer sat at a table in the coffee shop, enjoying your drinks.

“Okay, now. Tell me about this mystery girl.”

“Well, she’s smart,” Spencer said.

“Smart like you?”

“No, definitely not. That’s not a bad thing either! I’m not calling her dumb or anything! It’s just different than what I’m used to,” he rambled.

“Spence, it’s okay,” you laughed, “I get what you mean. So she’s not on a genius level, but she’s smart. That’s nice though because you will always be able to teach her new things, tell her new facts and statistics that she’s never known.”

“I never thought about it like that,” he mused.

“Okay, tell me more.”

“She’s funny and kind.”

“Two great attributes.”

“She’s also the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. At least, to me she is. That’s why I’m so terrified.”

“Spencer she’s not going to bite you or anything,” you chuckled, “Just relax and take a deep breath okay? You’re just overthinking it.”

“I suppose so.”

“The worst thing that can happen is she says no. I know rejection hurts and it sucks, but wouldn’t you rather take a chance and maybe have something great begin than never to have taken that chance at all?”

“You sound like Blake,” Spencer noted.

“Then I digress.”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” he joked.

“Spence, have a little faith in yourself. You’re a really great guy that any girl would be lucky to have. Even if it doesn't turn out how you hoped, you know that at least you tried.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Let’s get outta here before we move on to lesson two, it’s getting noisy.”

“Lesson two?” his eyebrow arched.

“Mhm. Follow me.”

It wasn’t until you were outside where it was a bit more peaceful that you spoke again.

“Okay, so where are you going to ask her out to?”

“Uh, I don’t know? I never really thought that far ahead,” he smiled sheepishly, “But you can never go wrong with coffee.”

He held up his to go cup, as if to prove his point.

“Yes, good! Ask her out for coffee. It’s the perfect place to sit and talk and enjoy each other’s company. Do you have anything in common with her? What would you talk to her about?”

“Again, not entirely sure.”

“Hmm,” you thought as you walked, “What does she do for work?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! Spencer, have you even talked to this girl?”

“Yes, I have, stop berating me!” he laughed.

“Well, ask her about her work. That’s a sure fire way to get a conversation flowing,” you smiled, “Now, we’re going to practice.”

You took the last gulp of your coffee, tossing the empty container in the trash can and waiting as he finished his, tossing his for him.

“Practice what exactly?”

“Asking her out. Just practice on me. It’s easy, just say what you would say to her.”

He fumbled, trying to get words out, but kept stuttering.

“No, stop. You’re overthinking it again. Just be straightforward and say it.”

“Alright. Got it,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I was wondering would you like to go out sometime to get a coffee or something? Whatever you want.”

He was stammering, you could tell even the thought of asking this girl made him nervous.

“Spencer, Spence,” you stopped him, turning him towards you, putting your hands on his arms.

He peered down at you, curiously.

“All you have to do is just simply say, “would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”. It’s as easy as that. Get out of your head. I know you can do this.”

He smiled appreciatively, then nodded.

“Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?” he repeated, “Like that?”

“That was perfect. See? It’s not hard at all.”

You’d reached Quantico again and you patted his arm as you walked in.

“Keep me updated on what happens.”

•

It was almost 24 hours before you had a moment to talk to him alone again. You were heading out for the evening and you were waiting for the elevator to reach the BAU floor when he walked up next to you.

“Hey Romeo, you got a date yet?” 

“No, not quite yet,” he answered.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, both of you getting on. 

“I haven’t had the chance to thank you, yet. Your advice has really helped me,” he smiled, “Thanks for caring enough to help me out.”

“Of course. I’m happy to help anytime. Now you believe you can go for it, right?”

He turned towards you, smiling.

“Yeah, I believe I can.”

Before you realized what was happening, your face was in his hands and his lips were on yours.

He was hesitant, his lips soft against yours.

You couldn’t believe the explosion of butterflies in your stomach. You had never stopped to think just how you’d felt about him, but this kiss had confirmed that you did, indeed have feelings for him.

The kiss was soft and sweet and too quick for your liking. He pulled back, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, was that okay?”

Your hands had rested on his side at some point during the quick kiss and you smiled up at him.

“‘More than okay.”

He let out a quick breath, not quite a chuckle but his smile grew even more.

“Want to get a coffee with me, sometime?”

“Any time, any place, I’ll be there.”

You leaned up, bringing your lips to his once again.

Score one for Spencer Reid.

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[azems-familiar]

Completely unrelated to an ask prompt I'm just bored so rate all the swtor companion crews from your most to least favorite.

*rubs hands together* excellent i needed something to procrastinate on anyway

OKAY. so. my least favorite crew probably has to end up being the consular crew, i’m sorry guys! i would actually die for Felix, and Nadia is precious and needs to be protected, but i could take or leave the other three (although Zenith makes an interesting companion for a ds consular). overall, i’d give it a 5/10, with a fem consular automatically bumping it up to a 6/10 because Felix is wonderful.

next up, at a solid 6.5/10, maybe 7/10 if i’m feeling generous, is the Trooper crew. Elara is my Wife and i actually love the extremely overenthusiastic war droid you get but other than that, most of them don’t stand out too much? but they’re a solid squad for the trooper, i respect that.

next we have the smuggler crew, who cannot rise above a 7/10 because of Corso. i’m sorry, i really am, Risha and Akaavi are fabulous, but Corso. just. Corso. i had to play a male smuggler because i could not handle the farmboy. 

after this, bounty hunter crew, 7.5/10, physically incapable of going higher because i want to throw Skadge out an airlock. but they also have Gault and Blizz, who are amazing, and Torian, who i also love dearly, and just. the aesthetic of the four real companions and the most prestigious bounty hunter in the galaxy causing chaos and running around in a stolen, remodeled school bus is so fucking funny.

8/10 would be the agent’s crew. i actually really enjoy all five companions (yes, even SCORPIO, she doesn’t turn into a bitch until kotfe, at which point i will gladly murder her), Vector is one of my favorite base game romance options, Lokin is such a unique character, i don’t like Kaliyo so much as a person but as a character she’s a fascinating part of the agent’s crew and has the dubious honor of being the only older woman who isn’t dependent on the player character for at least part of the story, so there’s that, and then Raina is a delight and has such a cool story.

sitting at a solid 9/10 for literally two people is the knight’s crew. Scourge and Kira are possibly my favorite companions in the game. i adore them SO MUCH. Scourge is such a horrible dramatic bastard man and his and Kira’s dynamic in the expansions is possibly my favorite part. the entire time spent wandering through Satele Shan’s ship? Scourge’s “I NEED MY SPACE” line? please just kill me now. for the rest of the companions, T7 is a precious droid, i really could care less about Rusk, and i’d like to throw Doc out an airlock please. multiple times, preferably.

10/10 is the warrior’s crew. like, i don’t much care for Broonmark or Pierce (mostly i get tired of the “black ops black ops black ops” every time Pierce opens his mouth), but they’re both interesting characters that have a lot to add to the story in terms of the warrior’s arc. Jaesa and Vette are both WONDERFUL, i cannot overstate that, and gods, Quinn my beloved, i have so many Thoughts about him and my warrior and how that goes and i love the fact that we get to have a companion who isn’t completely loyal to us the whole time and i wish the game explored the fallout of that more! the quinncident is so interesting! please bioware i’m begging you explore the consequences of the things you put the player character through (where is my knight’s fucking Vitiate trauma you fuckers-)

finally. 12/10, literal perfection, could not have asked for a better crew - the inquisitor. the ancient Dashade assassin that eats Force users and shows his affection with death threats! the overenthusiastic archeologist with very little concept of “oh Sith temples are probably dangerous and i shouldn’t go there without a Sith”! an actual apprentice from Korriban Nox gets to train! the half-fallen Jedi who is also the Single Impulse Control on this ship! the disaster pirate husband who brings his girlfriend LITERAL SWORDS to show his affection oh my god has there ever been a more perfect ship in existence i think not. i think not.

[iturbide]

More character meme stuff for you. Since Lyon is back on my mind thanks to the new banner, can I hear your thoughts on him please?

Also Ashe please.

You know, with him as the 4-star focus this was not what I was expecting this morning:

So I am all on board with Lyon

How do I feel about this character?

Lyon gets me right in the heart.  Just...his whole story is tragic, when you really think about it.  This young man who is himself intelligent, talented, and capable, but who feels inadequate next to his dearest friends that he loves with all his heart, who feels the crushing pressure of responsibility for his people and his country in the wake of his father’s death and knowing that disaster will soon strike, who falls specifically because he was trying to find a way to prove his worth and save everyone and ended up being manipulated by an unfathomable power.  His kindness and compassion, both admirable traits in and of themselves, ended up becoming a fatal weakness when they allowed Fomortiis the foothold he needed to take hold of Lyon, and from there every good and kind and noble aspect of him ended up twisted beyond recognition.

There’s something about characters with crippling inferiority complexes that draws me in.  I end up feeling deeply for them, wanting the best for them, hoping they’ll succeed and cheering when they’re able to acknowledge and accept their own personal worth...or mourning when they’re not only unable to overcome their self-doubt, but end up becoming victims when it’s exploited by outside forces.  Takumi hits me in very similar ways, especially for Conquest, but Lyon’s story is really heartbreaking for how we see the monster Fomortiis makes of him specifically through the eyes of his dearest friends.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

I...don’t know actually.  I’m not super familiar with Sacred Stones on the whole, so I’m not really familiar with who would be possible or reasonable.  I know that Eirika and Ephraim are both popular partners for him, and there’s definitely an appeal to both of those options, but I don’t know if I prefer one or the other, if there might be someone else out there who’d be good for him, or if I even want to ship him at all so much as give him a chance to find his own happiness for himself.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

Eirika and Ephraim, definitely.  Regardless of the romantic side, his friendship with those two is absolutely integral to him and I love the idea of their friendship and how multifaceted it is, fueling both his love for them and his jealousy of them in equal measure.  I’m also really keen on the idea of him being friends with Knoll, since Knoll wants to restore Grado specifically because he wants it to become the nation Lyon truly wanted to make; that says a lot to me personally about the relationship they had, and how much Knoll admired Lyon (especially since he canonically disappears as soon as that work is finished).

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Are there popular Lyon opinions?  I haven’t played Sacred Stones in years at this point: I vaguely recall borrowing it from a friend and I’m reasonably sure I played it through, but the only record I have of it is in some old unfinished fic bits living on an old computer that are directly related to that playthrough. 

How popular is the opinion that Lyon’s story is pretty much perfect?  Because from everything I’ve seen and read it honestly sounds like they handled his arc perfectly, from his motivations to his downfall.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

This is kind of a tough one because I don’t really know Sacred Stones all that well as a game.  My memories are very fuzzy and mostly involve realizing that Myrrh’s dragonstone had limited durability which meant I couldn’t use her in every battle and I was sad about it because dragon girl.  I guess if there’s anything...from what I understand, Lyon is recruitable in some side dungeon if you manage to beat this outrageous hardmode three times?  And yet he has no supports or dialogue.  Like.  What’s even the point if the party doesn’t get to talk to him?  Either don’t make him recruitable or put in dialogue because after everything that happened it’s a crime not to have him say a word.

And also Ashe because I love him

How do I feel about this character?

Ashe is absolutely one of the stand-out characters in the Blue Lions roster and the game on the whole, in my opinion.  His story is honestly fascinating: from a normal commoner kid with siblings and loving parents to an orphan stealing to ensure that he and his siblings could survive on the streets to the adopted child of a minor Kingdom noble with aspirations to be a knight and then back to an orphan thanks to Rhea who’s forced to fight for the Empire depending on your route.  That’s an absolutely wild ride.

Ashe could have been a really tragic character who leans heavy on the sympathy, but he doesn’t.  While there are undeniably tragic elements to his story, especially in the Academy Phase as we’re forced to fight his adoptive father on Rhea’s orders and steal the only parental figure he has (you find him in the cathedral a lot after that, for understandable reasons -- his crisis of faith must be monumental), he never gives up his aspirations to the kind of knight they write stories about.  This is a kid who has resorted to thievery frequently in the past, and his goal in life is to rise up from that low point in his life and become a shining paragon of chivalry and virtue helping the people.  And he puts his money where his mouth is, too: call him gullible, call him naive, but when he sees someone in a bind -- even a thief, claiming he’s been reduced to that to buy medicine for an ailing child -- he always helps out as best he can.  He doesn’t look down on people for their worst moments: he tries to lift them up so they can reach better ones, the same way he was lifted up by Lonato.  With his kindness and his compassion and his earnest ambition, I think he has an excellent chance of succeeding and becoming a knight of story and song.

Who do I ship this character with romantically?

TRICK QUESTION once again, I do not have any ships for Ashe.  I don’t have ships for most of the Three Houses kids, and while I love Ashe dearly, none of his supports really grabbed me romantically.  If I had to pick anyone, it would probably be Caspar, because their Supports are stellar: despite how rough the C is, the B turns it all around on its head and makes both of them realize that they were both being way too serious about the whole thing, and the A is sheer perfection as they realize they’ve both been spoiling the cat silly.  The idea of them going on endless adventures together, balancing each other and bringing out the best in one another, is so charming to me, and I could easily see them as lifelong partners.

Who is my brOTP for this character?

PETRA.  I love their Support chain so much and the fact that in their paired endcard she literally creates a whole order of knights in Brigid specifically to help him fulfill his lifelong ambition?  Get yourself a friend like that wow.  Also Annette: I love their Support chain and how even though the both of them are so scared of that very unsettling tower, he still goes and braves it a second time for just to find a treasure that she dropped in their initial flight.  That’s just so sweet okay I love how they get along and how close they are as friends and how they’ll pull out all the stops for one another.  Also, I have a major soft spot for his supports with Dedue because Ashe and Dedue cooking together is excellent (and also his supports with Felix are so charming and definitely show Felix in a better light once the B rolls around).

What’s my Unpopular Opinion™ about this character?

Okay so I think I got this one from @anankos but Ashe is really skilled with a knife.  Sure, everybody loves to gush about the precious cinnamon roll, but he can and will cut you if he has to; old habits die hard and he probably has a knife on him at all times just in case he gets in a tight spot, either where he can’t use or doesn’t have his bow.  Ordinarily he would use it for things like hunting and cooking as required, but he’s definitely used it as a cutpurse, and under pressure he will use it to stab someone if it will give him a chance at survival he otherwise wouldn’t have.  Don’t mess with the kid basically.

What’s one thing I wish would have happened with this character in canon?

This is so small and so minor but I wish we could have seen more of his emotional journey after the loss of Lonato.  I know it’s a really early game event, but given that certain supports can be locked until certain narrative points (like Leonie and Byleth’s B, which focuses directly on the aftermath of Jeralt’s death), I think it would have been beneficial to have shown the impact that death made on him, especially in regards to his view on the church.  Having supports with Seteth could have been great, too, especially given some of his views on the Church as a whole.

Give Me a Character  

[shining-red-diamond]

Keep the Change (Part 1)

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Jisung x Sunhee (OC) (feat. NCT DREAM and OCs)

Rating: PG-13

Genre: fluff, some angst, comedy

Warnings: violence, fighting, language, brief character death, mentions of vandalism, illness, and robbery

Summary: Being the youngest of twenty-three members, Jisung can get into trouble. He loves his members, but he feels as if everyone else, except for his girlfriend Sunhee, push him around at times. However, the morning after a fight with a member, he realizes that he’s been accidentally left behind. Although he has temporary freedom until his members return, there’s also trouble around the neighborhood caused by two thieves targeting wealthy families’ homes like Sunhee’s. Inspired by the holiday classic Home Alone. (Part of the NEOHOLIDAY event)

-

December 22

“Go finish packing,” Taeyong commanded for the last time.

Jisung obeyed and exited the room, infuriated with being denied just even sitting in the same room with someone. He was all packed for the trip to Paris he, the other NCT members, and some of their wives and girlfriends were going on for the holidays. Jisung just wanted some time to spend with the people he was closest to, but they were busy packing, playing video games, or tending to their small children.

“Dude,” Mark scoffed as he walked by, his large suitcase in his hands, “you’re like eighteen. Tattling is for six year olds. That should have died out for you twelve years ago.”

“Who said I was tattling?” the younger male defended as he followed Mark into his room, “I was expressing how I was being left out.”

“By going to Taeyong to call Johnny a jerk without saying it to his face?”

Jisung just crossed his arms and huffed. “I’m just tired of being treated like a baby around here.”

Mark patted his shoulder. “Then, don’t act like one, and Johnny was messing with you.”

That reply earned him an eye roll. He meant well, but Mark didn’t always say the right thing correctly.

“By the way,” the older boy added, “since Sierra and Alex are coming, you’ve been assigned to bunk with Alex for tonight.”

“I’m aware,” Jisung shrugged.

“You didn’t let me finish. Alex is scared of the dark, and knowing you don’t have a nightlight for him, don’t be surprised if he wakes up screaming and crying.”

Mark walked off without another word to go help another member to pack.

“Pizza’s here!” Jaehyun called from the kitchen.

Immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing and headed towards the kitchen, Jisung trailing behind them as he was still moody from his members rejecting them. He loved them dearly, but being the youngest of twenty-three members proved to be wrong sometimes. The only two members closest to his age were Sungchan and Chenle, but even they weren’t babied as much as he was.

As he crossed the front entryway, he noticed a cop by the door somewhat taking a look around the house and wanting someone to speak to. No one robbed them as far as he knew, but he really couldn’t be bothered.

Most of the members had sat down to eat already, plates full of two or three slices of their favorite kind. Despite having eaten some ramen earlier out of frustration from not being able to see his girlfriend Sunhee, Jisung grabbed a plate and anticipated having just a slice of cheese.

“Daddy, what time are we leaving tomorrow?” Alex asked Johnny.

“Early,” he replied, “we’re leaving at eight in the morning.”

“Sweetheart, the pizza boy needs 133000 won,” Taeyong’s wife Savannah told him as she was feeding Hayden some bite-sized beef slices.

“For pizza?” he replied as he was getting some milk.

“Ten pizzas times 12000 won.”

“You want us to pay for it?” Johnny offered.

“Nope, we’ve got it,” Taeyong shook his head as he searched his wallet.

Jisung opened a few boxes of pizzas, but couldn’t find any cheese. The boxes were either empty or had some sort of topping.

“Did anyone get a plain cheese?” he asked.

Lucas, who was standing by and shoving slices into his mouth, smirked and said, “Well, yeah, we did. But if you want any, someone’s gonna have to barf it all up.”

If anyone knew how to mess around with people, it was Lucas, but it was always out of love. He had a younger brother himself, so he was somewhat of an expert on picking and poking at people. However, he had no knowledge of Jisung’s frustration, yet it was no excuse for the joke he was pulling on the maknae.

“Jisung,” Lucas cried as he made a shocked face, “quick grab a plate!” He slumped over mockingly and made gagging sounds before chuckling at his own joke.

This, mixed with the worry of Alex’s midnight banshee screams and being left out all day, triggered Jisung’s anger and pushed him over the edge. In one swift motion, he balled up his fist and punched the older boy in his face. Hard.

Lucas ended up stumbling backwards, his elbows hit the cups filled with sodas and water; and it all spilled onto the-

“Passports!” Taeil cried as he and Johnny worked quickly to rescue them.

The other members helped with drying them, and Kun and Jeno pulled the fighting boys apart. Lucas’s nose was bleeding, but thankfully it wasn’t broken. Alex was startled by the chaos and started crying, and Sierra took him out the kitchen to calm him down.

Taeyong, in full dad mode now, finally stepped in and raised his voice at Jisung. “What is the matter with you?”

“He started it!” Jisung snapped. “He knows I don’t like the other toppings.”

The maknae knew it wasn’t just Lucas’s antics that made him lash out, but rather everything from that day. However, there would still be consequences to his actions.

“Look what you did, dummy!” Ten snapped as he was trying to dry his soda-stained jeans.

Jisung looked around at his members. It was all silence, except for Alex’s sniffles in the next room. Everyone else just had a look of disappointment on their faces as they stared back at him.

“Jisung, just go to your room,” Taeyong finally sighed.

“Why?”

With a huff, Taeyong pulled the maknae by his elbow. He complied and Taeyong was able to let go of him as he knew that Jisung wasn’t Alex’s age.

“Why do I always get treated like trash?” Jisung demanded.

The police officer and pizza boy were still standing by the door.

“I’m sorry,” the leader chuckled as he pulled out the money for the delivery boy. “With so many people going on a trip, it’s a little crazy. Some of our members have young children, so the chaos escalates a bit. It’s just nuts.”

He paid the pizza boy, and the young man wished them a Merry Christmas before walking out of the door.

“Having a reunion or something?” the officer asked.

“No,” Taeyong replied. “The group has some time off for the holidays, and some of us have families of our own, so we want to spend Christmas and New Year’s with them. Paris is where we’re heading.”

“To Paris, you say?”

“Yeah, We hope to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent.”

Jisung just rolled his eyes. Why was the officer here in the first place?

“If you’ll excuse me, this one’s out of sorts. I’ll be right back.”

Taeyong guided the maknae by the shoulder, and the officer called to them, “Don’t worry about me. I spoke to your wife already. And don’t worry about your home. It’s in good hands.”

NCT’s leader marched the boy up the stairs as the man left the premises. “There are twenty-three members in our group, and you’re the only one who has to make trouble.”

“I’m the only one getting dumped on,” Jisung shot back.

“You’re the only one acting up. Now, get in the room.”

He had led them to the guest room instead of Jisung’s bedroom.

“The guest room?”

“Go.”

“It’s scary in there.”

Taeyong didn’t buy his guilt trip. “Don’t be silly. Alex will be up in a little while.”

“I’m not sharing a room with Alex. You know about him. He screams in the middle of the night.”

The leader sighed and massaged his temples. “Fine. We’ll put Alex somewhere. Just get in there and cool off.”

Jisung had already chilled out by now. He tried to apologize, but Taeyong shook his had and said, “It’s too late. Go.” If a frustrated huff, he stomped into the room.

“I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow morning,” the leader said just before closing the door.

Plopping face down on the bed, he pulled out his phone and texted Sunhee, who wasn’t able to join the group due to her having plans with her family for Christmas. She was quick to respond. Sunhee was one of the sweetest people anyone could ever meet, and Jisung was happy she was his. His career did make it difficult to see her sometimes, but he always tried to make time for her. It was just as frustrating for her as she was about to graduate high school and working hard to stay on top of homework and final projects. Jisung ranted about how he felt he was being pushed around by everyone and just wanted to stop being treated like a baby, as he was eighteen years old. Sunhee was very understanding as she was one of the youngest of her cousins, but she said something similar to Mark in a much more kind manner. He knew they were right, but it somehow stuck with him more than the way the older boy had said it.

After they talked, Jisung put his phone down and got ready for bed.

-

Silence.

The only sound Jisung woke up to was silence. Not a word, a child’s babbling, or even a footstep could be heard from outside the bedroom. Maybe everyone was in the kitchen eating breakfast before heading to the airport. He didn’t bother checking his phone before stepping out into the hallway.

The lights were on, so that was a good sign, at least. Some of the doors were open, some were closed. He peeked into a few of them, but they were empty with piles of mess of some sort in each room.

“Taeyong?” he called out as he made his way to the kitchen. “Taeyong? Mark? Johnny? Lucas? Savannah? Sierra?”

He continued calling out everyone’s names, even the ones who were just starting to talk. After calling for Jeno, he gave up. Was he alone in the house? He sat down at the table and remembered everything he had been jabbed with the night before.

“Tattling is for six year olds. That should have died out for you twelve years ago.”

“…if you want any, someone’s gonna have to barf it all up.”

“There are twenty-three members in our group, and you’re the only one who has to make trouble.”

“Look what you did, dummy!”

Now, Jisung didn’t feel so bad. He realized that the members had left and possibly forgotten him, but now he had some freedom for a while before they could realize anything. Soon, he was dressed, danced whatever choreo around the house to whatever music he desired, and even went through the other members’ personal stuff as well.

Lucas’s, however, was a gold mine. He had some things from his family such as a letter from his parents and a picture of him and his younger brother, and a white Louis Vuitton purse with Sydni’s (his girlfriend) name tagged on it, which must have been a Christmas gift for her. What hit the jackpot was some firecrackers hidden beneath some magazines. Jisung wasn’t sure how Lucas sneaked them in, but there they were.

Once they were placed in his room for the time being, Jisung decided to make a huge ice cream sundae for himself with a side of snacks. He put in an old drama titled Filthy Souled Angels. A mafia piece, he thought. Interesting.

The drama began with a man in a trench coat and fedora entering an office of some sort.

“It’s me, Weasel,” the man told an older gentleman sitting at a desk. “I got the stuff.”

“Leave it on the doorstep,” the older man shouted at him, “and get the hell out of here.”

“All right, Junseo, but what about my money?”

“What money?”

“Acey said you had some for me.”

“Is that a fact? How much do I owe you?”

“Acey said 10%.”

The older man, Junseo, smirked. “Too bad Acey ain’t in charge no more.”

As he watched and snacked in the living room, he called out, “Guys, I’m eating junk and watching a mafia drama. You better come out and stop me.”

“He’ll call when he gets out of prison,” Junseo continued, Weasel looking defeated. “Hey, I’ll tell you what I’m going to give you, Weasel’ –Junseo pulled out a rifle from under his desk and aimed it at Weasel- “I’m going to give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellow no-good ass off my property before I pump your guts full of lead.”

“All right, Junseo, I’m sorry,” Weasel backed up. “I’m going.”

“1, 2, 10.” Junseo opened fire at the Weasel, cackling as the man dropped to his knees and died on the spot.

This surprised Jisung, and he was quick to cover his eyes as it scared him so bad. He kept his eyes covered until the last bullet was fired and Junseo said, “Keep the change, you filthy animal.”

Jisung turned it off, and switched it to classic Christmas movies for a while. Once he caught his breath, he cleaned up the kitchen and living room, and then returned to the couch. He fell asleep during How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

[nauseateddrive]

4 POEMS by Jake Sheff

Elegy for Dog I: A Failed Acrostic

January was tired when it became king. Apples here love being red in the spring, Casting shadows against the stone architraves our Kapellmeister will never live down. You Stole Apollo’s cows, and let them graze to show me Heaven’s template. Where do failed heroes go? Eucalyptus cupolas and polar icecaps Frame the downtrodden gods. But you weren’t Freakishly wrong, as I so often am, on your

Joyride through nearly twice eight years, Á la someone far from beauty’s stepmom. Copper coin or grimacing sun? I’ve got 20,000 Kor of crushed grief on this threshing floor. Shark-sparks of sadness flood the impetiginous air… How, and why, do clouds cobblestone Entire days, and lakes, when you’re not here? Fixing every broken thing, poets go where Ferns and geraniums baptize the morning.

“Jur-any-oms,” is how you’d spell it; After all, a dog’s a dog, and wisdom knows futility. Cassations make a rusty brew, to drink the truth of truths, and Kill whatever ceases wanting to be new. Stewardship, the color of gravity’s silence, naturally Houses every “glur” (a glittery blur); go chase what plays Eternal games. I hear the swans by Rooster Rock. Your handsome Face, its happy handsomeness, in memory’s eye, goes in and out of Focus; in love’s better eye: your goodness neath its everblooming ficus.

Gravity and Grace on SW Murray Scholls Drive

“Impatience has ruined many excellent men who, rejecting the slow, sure way, court destruction by rising too quickly.” Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome

The traffic lights control the people’s actions, but Not their feelings, as the limits of philosophy Collide head on with the nose of a Dalmatian.

I tell you, the day is stress-testing itself, and these Sidewalks wish that it’d just gone straight. Geese Take this sky-hairing wind for granted, as they

Land on the lake like memorable speech on The sensitive soul. Time is never sharp, but it’s Cutting something in the credit union. Maybe

It’s dancing a back Corte for the woman in line Thinking about the taste of limes from Temecula As she waits for the teller. Air Alaska and that

Haunted pie in the sky are not the only reasons For all the volatility in the air today. Rushing And perfectionism both produce a loss; behind

The Safeway Pharmacy, you’ll see the small Smells of both, sloshing around to the ticking- Sound of the ocean’s tides. I must admit, I am

Frozen in place by the sight of steam from Joe’s Burgers; it is poetry’s pale tongue, rising in And arousing the air. This neighborhood’s street-

Lights are more serious than kokeshi dolls. Lights From its windows outshine poison dart frogs. Maybe to forget about life for awhile, the lamps

Are focused on The Population Bomb? ‘Easy Tiger,’ all these incidents whisper. Each day’s A sign twirler’s dais; each corner a promise

Of something more in a different direction: it isn’t A marriageable daughter or impoverishment, But inguinal ingenuity plays a part, and that isn’t

Bad at all. What oaths and paths went here Before Walmart? What voices were voided by The liquor store? What are vague’s values

When the library shares a parking lot with a 24- Hour gym and a cargo cult? Gas stations satirize                                                                           The Queen of Hearts; I tell you, it makes every

Question seem incidental. Treaty-breakers in Pajamas swing on the swing sets. Was August That full of angst? It feels like autumn went too

Far on accident. Desertification, in a sugar tong Splint, takes a shot of ouzo and talks shit About the death of Brutus, but my Bible-thumping

Memory – on a ski hill in Duluth – is also too busy Watching some ducks on the lake to notice; and Desertification makes a face at me like a Swedish

Film. Poets make for poorly picked men to Familiarity’s paymaster-general. The Calvinistic Rain is an ill-starred attempt to make mayonnaise-

Fries just for me, but I must admit, it all seems – You know – cybernetic. And step-motherly as all Get out, if you ask the trees. They prefer “You

Can’t Hurry Love,” by The Supremes, to any Changes that take effect in one to two pay periods. Pretext ricochets; a perfect reverse promenade.

At Summer Lake, When the Vegetables are Sleeping

Cruelty drinks all the wine, and never gets drunk On these shores. When Summer Lake speaks, In every word, an introduction to the world. I am

Easily duped. The greatest duper duplicates my pride, Which always lingers, in the hallways of my heart And beneath the surface of Summer Lake. The sky is

Supplicating, it’s literally shaking. An hour passes Faster here, the hour always held too dearly dear In paranoid and ivied walls. The ducks can do

An unwise thing correctly, and it sounds more like Dusty than Buffalo Springfield to the enokitake Sold in Springfield, Illinois, which is the opposite

Effect it has on the wild mushrooms on these shores. On cables capable of love, the geese convince The weather to taste like kvass today. Basically,

Another Cuban Missile Crisis drowned itself just Now. The clouds might ask themselves, ‘Is lowliness Allowed here?’ To which the crows might ask,

‘Does omertà sound like lightning?’ The answer’s Oubliette is ten times worse than impotence. Summer Lake isn’t smart, but it stays quiet, like

Someone too smart to say all they know. ‘Whoa, Sweet potato,’ the capital gains tax mutters To itself, knowing that what matters doesn’t mean

A thing. Some say the lake bottom’s sands receive Commands from Hearst Castle, others say Its hands are King City’s hands, and still others

Maintain more sins have been than grains of sand Times secondary gains, and that explains The beauty and industry that none can see but

All can feel on these shores. (Some possibilities Play possum, or get opsonized by hate; this one snores Like Rip Van Winkle.) This orb-weaver spider is

The Milton Friedman of Summer Lake, the wind On her web is Grenache from The Rocks District Of Milton-Freewater AVA for the eyes. The day is

Stereotypical, although it feels like three days In one…But for the lake’s good counterfactual Questions, I would forget that some die young,

But most die wrong. I’ve tried to pick up Summer Lake’s reflections in three lines or less, but The hardest truth is your own impotence. Oh,

It’s hard to hand your power over to a thing No one can see. Hopped up on distinctions – not The obvious distinctions – Summer Lake is pretty;

Cold, but pretty! In the distance, with so many Intercessory prayers, hot air balloons are rising; Shaped like teardrops, upside down and rising.

This lake re-something-or-anothered me. Are first Impressions wrong sometimes? I am a season’s Golden calf, according to the sunlight, doing

A prospector’s jig on the surface of Summer Lake. If not for the Weimar Republic’s wooden- Headedness, I’d set down my heart-song and

Listen to reason on these shores. I never trust An activist guitar, if the weather is socially clumsy. The future is reflected on the lake: it always

Laughs at us – between its math and gratitude Lessons – and never thinks of (or gives thanks to) Us enough. The presence in the lake juniors

My ears. The day is not too baffling, nor is it Jane Eyre. Space-themed and spiritual, some autumn Leaves are swimming in the rain. The ducks arrest

My attention in the mardy weather, even though they Must know my attention is dying. The barbed wire Around my stated goal is an outcome out of

Their control. Picnickers picnic with acorns and apricots, On blankets covering Holy Schnikey’s death mask. My unsandaled thoughts thrive and increase on these,

And no other shores. They are pets for the days less Important than love, when Summer Lake says it’s Humble, because it knows the right thing to say.

Summer Lake gives the comfort of commonly held And seriously absurd beliefs to the blue heron. Nothing is wrong with this lake or anything in it,

Not even the ghost of Amerigo Vespucci. It’s all so Simple to the stiff-necked molecules of water, made out Of frogs and snails and puppy-dog’s tails. These thoughts

Are fine manna in a fine ditch. Post-structuralist squirrels Can tell my heart’s in Italy, and I’m in the intellectual Laity. Chivalry’s technician sees my shovel, and they say,

‘You’ve got to hand it to him.’ Neurocysticercosis Sets the bar high; it looks at this park, and thinks The smartest monkey drew the perfect landscape.

That’s this maple tree’s previous disease, its precious One. It unfurls the ferns of my firm and foremost Beliefs, I’m told, to partialize insufferable vastidity.

We Install a Sump Pump on (What Used To Be) a Holiday (Take 2)

The oppressive heat was born a fully grown Man. I admire the result of its effort, but Despise the means of achieving it. My wife Asserts her individuality in the gunk; her Body’s allegations aren’t too soft or hard today. Her self-interest seems to have drowned in the vortex.

Our little garden knows flippancy with regards To privacy is unwise. The stepping stones can Only blather, as slugs draw nomograms on Their faces. My wife’s body speaks Proto-Indo- European in the vortex and denim overalls. Marc Chagall’s The Poet studies her. He calls her

‘Innocence: The opposite of life! A criminal with A badge!’ I hand her the tools of a crude and Rudimentary faith, and she says, ‘Jill, great books Make fine shackles.’ Her arms only have An administrative objective in the vortex, but They are where good things come from.

Jake Sheff is a pediatrician in Oregon and veteran of the US Air Force. He's married with a daughter and whole lot of pets. Poems of Jake’s are in Radius, The Ekphrastic Review, Crab Orchard Review, The Cossack Review and elsewhere. He won 1st place in the 2017 SFPA speculative poetry contest and a Laureate's Choice prize in the 2019 Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest. Past poems and short stories have been nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology and the Pushcart Prize. His chapbook is “Looting Versailles” (Alabaster Leaves Publishing).

[im-fairly-whitty]

The Witcher Wolf: In Plain Sight

Two years have passed since Geralt was cursed with the ability to turn into a wolf whenever his medallion is removed, a curse that's turned into a blessing now that he and Jaskier are partners in everything they do.

It's no exception when they discover a Nilfgaardian army bearing down on Cintra, headed straight toward a certain child surprise. With Jaskier's help and Geralt's enchanted medallion they must find a way to get into the palace, make sure Princess Cirilla is safe, and get out with her in tow if needed, regardless of Queen Calanthe's orders.

[Chapter 1: Into the Fire]

Chapter 2: Old Friend

“-and after the leigeman ceremony we’re having this awful banquet.” Ciri said. She winced a bit as the maid brushing out her hair caught on a snag. “I hate banquets, I’ll have to sit there looking pretty and useless and then Grandmother will probably force me to dance with someone. I always tell her I’d rather stay out of it, but I can only sneak away to play in the square so often.” 

Geralt listened attentively, his muzzle on Ciri’s knee as she sat getting fussed over by two different ladies in waiting who seemed determined to get an entire set of pins into the girl’s hair. He could plainly see the women’s annoyance at having to step over and around a massive wolf whenever they moved, but when one of them had suggested he be given over to the royal kennels to look after Ciri had given her a look that Geralt remembered all too well from her grandmother’s face over a decade ago.

And the girl really was clearly her grandmother’s granddaughter, not to mention her mother’s daughter. She had Pavetta’s ashen blonde hair and earnestness, as well as Calenthe’s wit and strength. All wrapped up into a little girl who could be feisty in a game of knucklebones on the street in trousers, and then an hour later sit as still and regal as Geralt imagined a twelve year old in an expensive velvet gown could possibly be as she was readied for a court appearance.

It had only been a year ago that Jaskier had revealed to him that he’d been visiting the Cintrian court over the last decade, keeping an eye on the child when Geralt had so dramatically refused to for so long. Geralt had felt...ashamed? embarrassed? to realize Jaskier knew more about his own child surprise than he even did, but Jaskier had patiently encouraged him to ask as many questions about her as he wanted when he’d finally gotten over himself.

A year of stories about Ciri had privately convinced Geralt that he likely had the greatest child surprise ever born. Meeting her had only confirmed it. And who cared if he was perhaps biased? From what he’d seen of human families every father had the right to think so about their daughter.    

“You know I still don’t know what to call you.” Ciri said, picking up one of the gold plated hairbrushes from the vanity table and starting to brush Geralt’s fur. One of the maids grumbled at the princess’ use of a royal brush on a dog, but Ciri ignored her. “I suppose I could just call you Wolf for now. I know it’s not very original, but it’ll give me time to think of something better. You’ll have to stay here for the leigeman ceremony, but if you behave yourself I bet I can convince Grandfather to let me bring you to the banquet tonight.” Ciri smiled. “It would give me some interesting company for once.”

Geralt gave a soft bark of approval, leaning into the brushing. He hated the idea of being alone in the castle away from Ciri, but he was well versed in the art---and intelligence--of acting the well-behaved pet. He so dearly wished Jaskier was around though with the medallion though, as good as this was he hated that Ciri didn’t know who he really was.

After all, she clearly liked him well enough now, but what would she think of him when he was a witcher?

He knew all too well the change in attitude that came with his change in form, had gotten used to people treating him entirely differently depending on his appearance. But with Ciri it was different, because he actually found himself caring very much what she might think of him when she found out the truth.

He swallowed, shaking himself a little. He couldn’t allow himself to worry about later when he had plenty to worry about now. Jaskier would be at the banquet, meaning that Geralt had to be at that banquet, meaning he had to be on his absolute best doggish behavior for the princess.

“Princess, it’s time for you to...”

The voice in the doorway trailed off and Geralt turned to see a bearded man staring back at him. Geralt got to his feet, tail wagging as he recognized Mousesack the druid, an old friend of his and possibly the only person in the city he and Jaskier could trust. Geralt’s original plan had been to contact the druid in secret, before Jaskier had ruthlessly shot it down as an excellent way to alert royal spies to his presence.

“...time for you to...what is that?” Mousesack asked delicately, not taking his eyes off Geralt for a moment.

“This is Wolf!” Ciri said with a smile, continuing to brush Geralt’s fur. “I found him in the square today, I’m keeping him until his owner comes for him. And if they don’t then I’m just keeping him. He’s very tame and lovely, you can pet him if you like.”

Geralt could smell tense unease coming off of the druid. Not exactly fear, but something close to it. As if the man were expected to be attacked.

Geralt pressed up against Ciri’s chair a bit, tail no longer wagging as he realized why.

Over the past two years he and Jaskier had always been careful to keep Triss or Yennefer from ever meeting his wolf form, knowing that they’d likely be able to sense something was off immediately. Magic was magic and the medallion’s curse was a particularly strong one. So of course Mousesack was on edge after walking into the princess’ room to see her with a clearly enchanted feeling animal at her side with no other context.

And a magic wielder who was on edge was a very dangerous thing indeed. Something Geralt hadn’t taken into account when he’d entered the castle in a form that could only defend themself with fangs.

“He does seem very...special indeed.” Mousesack said, pulling on a strained smile. “You’ve been summoned to the great hall your highness, how about your ladies in waiting escort you there and I’ll stay behind to look after Wolf while you’re at the ceremony?”

The druid’s tone of voice was a bit over-cheerful, the exact tone a panicked adult might use to coax an oblivious child away from a nearby poisonous snake they hadn’t seen yet.

“Alright,” Ciri sighed, setting down the brush and rubbing her cheek against the top of Geralt’s head before she stood. “Do not take him to the kennels, he’s mine and I’m bringing him to the banquet tonight to keep me company.”

“Of course princess.” Mousesack said, stepping inside the room and sending the ladies-in-waiting a look that had them hurrying to finish, pinning the last of Ciri’s hair and helping her to stand.

Geralt nearly whined as Ciri’s hand left his head, instead pushing his nose against her palm as she stood.

“Wolf, stay.” Ciri said with a smile. “I’ll be back before you know it, Mousesack will look after you.”

Geralt wagged his tail as she turned and was swept out of the room by her attendants. Taking all the warmth out of the room with her.

Because the moment she was gone Mousesack shut the door firmly behind her, all semblance of a smile dropping from his face as he locked it, eyes never straying from Geralt.

The druid flexed his hands and hissed an incantation, sending a gust of magic through the room that whipped up loose papers and hair ribbons from the vanity. Geralt crouched low to the floor as the air crackled with energy, a charmed barrier trapping him in the center of the room. He didn’t know what would happen if he tried to cross it, but judging by the druid’s expression it would be a consequence not easily recovered from. If at all.  

“What are you and why are you near the princess?” Mousesack demanded coldly, magical energy sparking at his fingertips.

Geralt swallowed back a growl of fear, thinking fast. Without his medallion he had no way of defending himself, but most importantly no way of speaking. He would have to try communicating to Mousesack in some other way.

The man clearly expected Geralt to start spitting fire or lunge for his jugular or something equally terrible, so Geralt did the first completely opposite thing that came to mind.

He rolled over onto his back, exposing his belly with a whine, watching Mousesack with what he hoped was his least threatening expression. I’m no threat, I promise. I surrender, I don’t want to fight.

Mousesack squinted at him suspiciously for a long minute, keeping up his trap of magic as a long moment of silence stretched between them.

“Resume your normal form.” The druid demanded.

Geralt whined, staying submissively on his back. Believe me, I wish I could.

“Can you communicate at all with words?” Mousesack asked, his aggressive tone slowly fading to confused sternness at Geralt’s distinctly non-threatening behavior.

Another long whine.

Mousesack chewed his lip for a moment, then shifted his spell casting to one hand in order to reach into a pocket and pull out a silver coin. He flipped the coin over to Geralt, missing him narrowly as the coin rolled to a stop beside him.

Silver, the druid was testing to see if Geralt was a monster or a doppler, to see if he would flinch away from the coin. Geralt rolled back onto his stomach as slowly as he could, making no sudden movements as he moved to nose at the coin, standing and tapping at it with one paw repeatedly as he looked at Mousesack, showing him he understood what he was trying to do and that he was cooperating.

“So. Not a monster then.” Mousesack said slowly. His eyes narrowed as Geralt slowly edged over to the chair Ciri had been sitting on, pawing at one of its thin metal legs and looking back at him. The druid’s eyebrows raised. “Iron. Not fae either. Are you cursed then?”

Geralt panted in a canine smile, barking once.

Mousesack hesitated, then sighed a bit, the last of his aggressiveness slipping away. “I’m going to let go of my trap, but be warned that I can still easily kill you if you try anything.”

Geralt wagged his tail in acknowledgement, politely sitting to wait.

The druid’s hand fell and the room settled again. Geralt didn’t move, instead waiting as non-threateningly as he could as the druid approached him, dropping into a crouch to be eye level with him.

“So. A cursed wolf who’s attached themself to the princess.” Mousesack said. “Or someone cursed to be a wolf?”

Geralt barked again, lowering his head and then raising it in as close to a nod as he was able in wolf form.

“The second? You’ve been cursed into a wolf?” Mousesack asked.

Another nod.

“Are you here looking for help to break your curse?” he asked. “Cirilla is a princess, but you’re not going to get any kind of true love’s kiss here my friend. Real curses don’t work like they do in the fairy tales I’m afraid.”

Geralt turned his head from side to side, shaking his head as best he could.

“Hmmm.” the druid said, looking him over, finally starting to no longer look less tense and guarded. “This would be far easier if I could range beyond yes or no questions... So you’re not here to get help for yourself...but it is something to do with the princess?”

A nod. Come on old friend, ask better questions. You’re supposed to be wise, aren’t you?

“You’re certainly connected to her in some way.” Mousesack said soberly. “I thought I was seeing things when I walked into the room, both your auras were more strongly connected than anything I’ve ever seen, short of-”

His eyes widened in stunned surprise, looking as if several puzzle pieces were clicking into place at once. Geralt pricked his ears forward.

“Short of her parents.” Mousesack said, voice a little faint. “They were connected by destiny through the law of surprise. The only person who would have that connection with Cirilla is, is Geralt of Rivia, but-”

Geralt jumped to his feet with excited whining and barking, wagging his tail hard, startling the druid into falling back onto the floor.

“Geralt?” Mousesack demanded, his shock quickly giving way to incredulous amusement. “What on earth? That’s really you?” His amusement dropped away to concern. “By the gods Geralt, I know your new moniker has become quite popular in tavern songs, but becoming a literal white wolf is taking it a bit too far. You’re sure you aren’t trying to break this curse?”

Geralt huffed, shaking his head with a sneeze.

“You’ve...come for your child surprise, haven’t you?” Mousesack asked, his face becoming grim.

Geralt looked silently back at him, tail slowly wagging in affirmation.

“It’s because of Nilfgaard isn’t?” the druid said, voice heavy. “Trust you to show up uninvited after a century of nothing. Calenthe will never agree to it old friend, she’s convinced the army is headed for Sodden, not us. Besides, she’d have your head if she knew you were here. I don’t suppose that’s what this shapeshifting nonsense is for, is it? To hide?”

A nod.

The druid reached out to take Geralt’s muzzle in one hand, the other going to an ear. Geralt allowed the man to gently tip his head back and forth as the druid inspected him, opening his mouth to see his teeth and rubbing a tuft of fur between his fingertips.

Mousesack let go of his with a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into I’d love to meet whoever did it. The craftsmanship on this enchantment is flawless, no loose ends anywhere, not a bit of it derived from lycanthropy either as far as I can sense. I’m almost afraid to ask what it was you had to pay to get it.”

Geralt blinked up at him, of course unable to add anything to the druid’s musings.

“And all to get to Cirilla.” Mousesack sighed, rubbing his face roughly before looking at him again for a long minute. “You’ve always had a knack for being unpredictably dramatic Geralt, but you’ve really outdone yourself this time. I’m at a complete loss trying to think of how a spell this powerful and specialized could possibly be part of a logical or even realistic plan for the princess’ benefit, but knowing you it surely must be?”

Geralt wagged his tail. Well it had started out that way at least.

Mousesack grunted, pushing himself to his feet and dusting himself off with a longsuffering look at Geralt. “Well if you promise not to do anything rash around the princess I’ll try to help you as best I can. She won’t be back for a couple hours before the banquet, come with me to my study, I can keep you away from prying eyes and anyone else who might sense you like I did.”

Geralt willingly followed him to the door, grateful he wasn’t completely alone in the castle after all.

“Perhaps I can draw up an alphabet on parchment for you,” Mousesack said, rubbing his chin as they started down the marble hallway. “It’ll be slow going to have you pick out letters, but we have a bit of time and I absolutely must learn at least a few details about this utter nonsense of a situation.”

Geralt wagged his tail in agreement.

Hopefully wherever Jaskier was he was having his own stroke of luck too.

[Read chapter 3: Bad Luck]

______

Spoiler: He is not. 

[xiubaek-13]

Gods & Myths

Prompt: J-Hope + 3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

Setting/AU: College AU

Warnings: Alcohol use, frat party, sexual tension, lewd humour etc

Word Count: 3,278

You didn’t want to be here. Every fiber of your being wanted desperately to be anywhere that wasn’t at the Gods and Myths party at Ravenwood Academy. It’s not that you hated parties, or despised dressing up, rather, it was that you hated ending up alone at these things. Your friends always came with you, spotted someone they were crushing on and left without fail. Leaving you alone for the remainder of the evening, easy prey for drunk creeps to hit on. Usually you left before they saw you all alone, in your mind you wondered if you had a huge neon sign above you that said Easy Target.

Every time you brought this fact up with them their responses were the same. “Well maybe you should try it sometime.” “It’s not going to hurt you to have fun. Live a little.” “Just do, don’t think about it for once in your life.”

All of that was easier said than done though. Overthinking was a skill of yours, one excelled at. Your friends meant well, you knew that, but it hurt to realise time and time again that in some aspects, they just truly didn’t understand you. You weren’t as outgoing as them and apparently didn’t have anywhere near as high a sex drive as they did. They said you were too picky while you thought that sometimes they weren’t picky enough.

You wanted to be the person who could just switch off and live in the moment but you were too observant, too analytical and too concerned with how what you did at any given moment would impact your life. Other people got to finish class and leave their academic commitments in their dorm, not concerned with how their actions in the night would impact them in the future but not you, the burden of responsibility weighed heavy on your shoulders. You had to get good grades so that you could get a good job and a good career. That was what had been ingrained into you since you were a small child. Romance and frivolity just weren’t luxuries that you could afford.

Regardless of how you feel about social gatherings, you’re here, sitting on Minhee’s bed with Sora while they brainstorm costumes for each of you to wear. According to them this party was a big deal and proper thought should go into your outfit. In your mind it was just middle ground between angels & devils and toga party. Wear a coloured sheet and something on your head and drink. It seemed simple to you but to your friends, it was more. They were well known for their partying ways and impeccable costumes. How you ended up with these two as your best friends you’ll never know, but you wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.

Minhee stands in front of her wardrobe facing the two of you with her arms crossed in front of her, resolute in her statement. “As a history major I refuse to allow the three of us to be basic. There will be enough Aphrodite’s, Hera’s, Athena’s and Persephone’s in attendance so we need something unique.” 

“Why don’t we go as the three fates?” Sora offers as she flips through a Greek Mythology book.

Minhee shakes her head. “No, then we’d have to spend the entire night together so that our costumes made sense.”

“Wow, you make hanging out together sound like a punishment.” You remark.

Her eyes roll. “You know that’s not how I meant it. If we do a group costume then we have to stick together. At the biggest party of the academic year.” Next to you Sora nods. If she thinks this is convincing you that she wasn’t being harsh before, she’s sorely mistaken.

“What Minhee is trying to say is that Jaebum is going to be there and she wants to get that.” She chuckles as she looks at you. “We love you dearly, but we both have goals for this party, and apparently that means we need standalone costumes. Otherwise Minhee will be insufferable because she couldn’t jump JB’s bones because we did a group costume… which is not a crazy persons reasoning at all.”

You can’t help but laugh at Sora’s bluntness. You knew they’d both be wanting to impress their crushes and that they would not be sticking with you all night. Still, the reality of being alone at a party yet again kind of dampens the mood for you. “Then Minhee should be Nyx.” You state.

“Primordial goddess of the night?” She asks, to no one in particular.

You shrug. “Look if there was a goddess of determination to get that dick then I’d pick that one for you. This is the closest thing.”

Sora collapses into the bed in a fit of laughter at your words while Minhee feigns offence, doing her best to not laugh yet. “Are you calling me a skank?”

“Of course not. If I wanted to do that I’d have suggested Peitho.” Minhee sputters as her cool facade cracks and she joins Sora in a fit of laughter, doubling over and grabbing the wardrobe with her spare hand to brace herself as she laughs.

“You bitch.” She says as she regains her composure.

“Honestly, the lengths you go to for dick.”  You do your best to sound nonchalant but a laugh breaks through.

“For that uncalled for comment you get to be Hecate, it’s not in the mythology books but I’m pretty sure she was a snarky biatch like you.” She points at Sora as you crack up laughing. “And you can be Kotys, you party animal.”

***

The party is going almost exactly how you imagined it would. The three of you arrived, wading through a crowd of multiple Hades, Persephone, Zeus, Hera, Apollo & Aphrodite costumes. Minhee and Sora are ecstatic that no one seems to have picked the goddesses that the three of you did but a small part of you wishes you could blend in with the crowd, it would make escaping drunk horny guys later so much easier.

You had to give it to the decorators. They had outdone themselves this year. The large dining hall had been transformed into a Greek paradise. There was a Mount Olympus in the back corner, a Dionysus themed bar, hanging gardens, beautifully draped sheets around fake columns. There were games all around the room, based off ancient Olympics and myths. You spotted a stone grotto where you had to trick Medusa, a makeshift river Styx, the list went on.

It was hard to believe that this was the dining hall. The spot where you usually sat for your meals was currently the entrance to hell and where you normally sat was Yoongi, dressed as Hades, trying to convince people to actually pay him money to be kept safe. You laughed to yourself, remembering the time that Minhee had her sights set on him only to be shut down because he didn’t want to fuck someone who didn’t know what an arpeggio was. She had been livid for weeks. She thought it was some kind of pasta. You and Sora hadn’t let her live it down, much to her displeasure.

The rest of his group are performing similar grifts around the room. Namjoon is at Mount Olympus, dressed as Zeus and giving orders as King of the Gods. Jimin is dressed as Eros and is wandering around pushing people together, daring them to kiss. Dressed is a loose statement given the minimal amount of coverage he has going for him but that kind of goes hand in hand with being the god of sexual desire, attraction, love and procreation. Jin is dressed as Plutus and in his drunken stupor keeps telling everyone “Opulence, I own everything!” Taehyung is behind the bar, dressed as Dionysus, reveling in getting partygoers drunk out of their brains. Jungkook is Heracles, doing upside down keg stands and challenging people to arm wrestling and Mario Kart, probably not exactly the picture of the greatest hero but he fits the strongest man on earth part of the brief. Hoseok is Caerus, flitting around the room to each of the games and convincing people to do things they normally wouldn’t, telling them he felt lucky about their odds of winning if they did as he suggested. Whoever put those 7 in charge as hosts for the evening was either out of their mind or a genius.

Shortly after arriving Sora directs you to the bar, making sure the three of you have drinks in your hands at all times then drags your trio over to a group who are playing a range of drinking games loosely based off mythology. So loosely that you’d wager that they were just playing normal drinking games and adding one greek work to them to fit the theme of the party. You glance at Minhee, thinking she might have hit the nail on the head with the goddess she picked for Sora, who raises a brow at you as if to say I was dead on right?

You stand back with Minhee while Sora leads the next round of games, completely in her element as the life of the party. Out of the corner of your eye you spot the very person who Minhee keeps searching for. She probably thinks she’s being subtle but to you she looks like a lost bird with how much her head is darting around as she scans the room. You nudge her, directing her attention towards her mark. “He’s over there when you’re ready to go throw yourself at him.”

She scoffs at you and smirks. “Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t need to throw myself at him, have you seen me in this dress?” To make sure you get the full effect she twirls and poses for you, her shamelessness making you cringe.

“Oh my god, just go already.”

Sora appears beside you, laughing. “Looks like I have perfect timing!” she says as she latches onto your arm, her grip ironclad, tugging it towards the centre of the group where the games are being played. “Come on, we’re playing the next game.”

“Wha-” you start to protest, refusing to budge from your spot. You don’t join in at these parties. You observe. You’re not the free spirited type. You don’t know the social cues or the rules for these games.

“No excuses. If you fuck up the game you drink, if you win you drink. Pretty simple really.” She holds onto your arm tightly, no intentions of letting you flee. “For once, try to enjoy yourself.” She says.

Begrudgingly you give up trying to escape. She knows you too well and she has no plans on letting go of you until you’re in the circle and the game is starting. There’s no escape now, not when you’re surrounded. Your anxiety spikes for a moment, wondering if all of the people around you know that you don’t fit in here. That little voice in your head tells you that they’re judging you, mocking you, no matter how hard you try to ignore it.  

“What game have you been playing here?” Hoseok asks, appearing out of nowhere, his red locks wreathed in olive branches. That part of his costume irks you. Caerus was always described as bald, with one lock of hair, not a luscious soft looking full head of hair. At least he had the non aging, beautiful part down, because Hoseok was beautiful. His high cheekbones and strong jawline framed his face, inviting eyes and an infectious smile made him hard to resist. You have watched him from a distance at many parties, never actually interacting with words. A few times he caught you staring, only to raise an eyebrow at you and for you to avert your gaze. This is the closest you’d ever been to him at a party and you decide that it is incredibly unfair for him to look that good.

“Escape the Manticore.” Someone says at the same time as you say “Beer Pong.” Hoseok laughs as he moves to the center of the group. He raises his hands, beckoning those in the circle to listen to him.

“An excellent choice of game, however, might I suggest a change in proceedings before Jungkook/Heracles makes his way over here?” The noises from the group seem to lean towards agreeing to change games. Everyone knows that you can’t beat Jungkook at beer pong. The guy is stupidly good at it. Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Might I suggest Sirens Call?”

You scoff. “What’s that, truth or dare?” The crowd laughs at your comment.

“Closer to spin the bottle actually.” Hoseok responds, winking at you as he does so. “Alright, you lot” He says as he points to 7 others, Sora and yourself “are playing this round with me.” You do your best to ignore the wink, surely he does that to everyone. Like Sora, he’s always the life of the party. It probably doesn’t mean anything. Even if part of you wants it to.

Sora claps with glee as she realizes that his selection includes the man she’s been ogling all night, Shownu. He’s a mountain of a man with soft, kind eyes and Sora has been swooning over him for months. You know that she’ll shatter the bottle if it doesn’t land on him when she spins it.

“You look like you want to eat him alive Sora, maybe dial it down a notch.” You murmur.

Her eyes flit to yours for a moment, a mischievous grin on her face. “I’d rather climb him like a tree but eating works as well.”

You don’t get a chance to tell her to keep it in her pants as Hoseok produces a bottle and motions for the ten of you to sit on the floor. “The person spinning the bottle is the siren. Whoever the bottle lands on is their target. If their target succumbs to their call and kisses them they’re out of the game, Sirens were kind of evil guys, they lured men to their deaths. If you resist the siren for thirty seconds then you survive and they are out of the game.

The game progresses as drunken people lock lips and disappear from the game, often wandering off together to continue where they left off, much to Jimin’s delight. Shownu did his best to resist Sora, but your maniac of a friend legitimately climbed him when he refused her request for him to kiss her, straddling his hips and teasingly leaning in, ghosting kisses over his neck, face & mouth until he gave in and captured her lips with his. As she got up and lead Shownu away from the group she winked at you, happy to have secured her man for the night.

Hoseok spins the bottle next. You watch it spin round and round, wondering who it will land on and if they’re going to be able to resist his charms. To your surprise the bottle lands on you. You stare at it in mild shock. Hoseok isn’t supposed to get this close to you. No, you watch him from afar, wondering what it would be like to touch him, to be held by him, to kiss him. But those were only ever supposed to be thoughts, never a reality.

You watch with wide eyes as he crawls towards you, like a predator circling its prey. You don’t know if you are strong enough to resist him, not when his eyes were laser focused on you like that. He’d never looked at you like that before. Whenever he’d caught you staring at him he’d always kept that inviting look in his eyes but that was nowhere to be found right now. It felt like he was staring into your soul which unnerves you. You try to swallow but your throat feels dry, and your hand can’t seem to find your drink.

He closes the distance between the two of you quickly, stopping only once his arms are caging your legs where you sit. He is too close, so close that you can feel his breath fanning your neck, you can smell his cologne, you can’t concentrate. He licks his lips and leans forward, his mouth ghosting your ear. Breathily he says “Kiss me” then moves back slightly so that he can see your face.

If you do as he asks you’ll lose the game, but you will have kissed Jung Hoseok. That little voice inside your head tries to tell you that he’d only be kissing you because of the game, not because he has any interest in you. Another smaller voice speaks up, telling you so what if its only because of the game? You still get to kiss him and if the other voice is wrong, then you’ll have bagged Jung motherfucking Hoseok. Where is the loss for you here?

You stare at his lips longer than you care to admit, at his prominent cupids bow and soft looking lower lip, at the way he slightly smirks when he realises that you’re fixated on his mouth. It feels like aeons but in reality it takes only seconds for the two of you to stare at each other, your eyes flickering because for a moment Hoseok does look like a god, but one who is within your reach, and it causes a quiet breath to escape your lips.

Cautiously you inch forward, and Hoseok cups your cheek with his hand. He feels warm. You lean into his touch, letting yourself indulge in the moment. You press your lips into his, they are softer than you were expecting. He moves his head slightly and your lips slot together perfectly, his hand sliding into your hair. You could end it here, you had already failed the game and there was no need to continue the kiss.

Except that you don’t want it to end. You want more. You press into his lips harder, parting them, and you feel him smile into it as he deepens the kiss. Your hand grips his cloak, as if you’re scared he will let go of you and end this. The nature of the kiss shifts from a soft, sweet meeting of the mouths to a heated, passionate tangling of tongues. When you do break apart its because you both need air. His eyes are hooded and dark as he stares at you as if you are the only person in the room.

Gradually both of you realize that you have an audience and you blush furiously. Hoseok clears his throat and looks around, attempting to put on the mask of the host as he says. “That’s game over. You know how it works now, form your own teams and go.” He grabs your wrist and helps you stand, his eyes never leaving your face. It’s written all over his face, plain as day, that he wants to kiss you again. You want to kiss him again too, but not with so many people around.

“Come with me?” He asks.

[justhereforseverus]

A Rose by any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet

Miserable_toad

Chapter 13: But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

Summary:

Hogwarts is busy and you don't see Severus as much as you want to. But one cold night an opportunity arises. In addition, Severus has found the perpetrator of the classroom-destruction and he's not happy about it. Remus and you are also looking forward to the Yule Ball.

Notes:

Ok, that took a while. Sorry for the delay! Originally, I wanted to include the Yule Ball scene in that chapter, too but decided against it in the end. I didn't want to rush writing that very important day in the lives of Severus and the reader ;D

I still feel very awkward writing kissing scenes and stuff. But I hope it's not too cringy.

Thank you so much for reading and your kudos! Comments always appreciated <3

The next weeks went away in a blur. There was so much work and it wasn’t exactly helping that Dumbledore had left for a business trip for three weeks. The consequence of that was that Severus and Minerva split the headmaster’s work among them. Thus, me and Severus only saw each other at the drama sessions and occasionally for lunch or dinner in our private quarters. I missed him dearly and hoped that we would see us more often again in the near future.

One day, the ghosts added additional drama into the mix. They’ve managed to break through a water line while having a secret party. We all awoke with half of our classrooms under water. Despite our magical abilities, it still took the whole day to clean up the mess and put everything in order. I returned to my quarters late, exhausted and with a nasty headache. However, insomnia decided to disrupt my need for rest and I just shuffled around uselessly on my bed. I put on my coat and went outside for a walk but it was cloudy and rather cold. Winter had made its arrival quickly and I dare say that autumn was way too short to be enjoyed. The weather only made me more depressed, so I returned inside. In that moment, I saw Severus coming out of the great hall and decided to say hello.

“Hey, Severus.” – I uttered still freezing. Maybe I can catch him for a bit longer than an hour or so this time. Severus looked elegant and handsome as always but his eyes looked tired. Despite his ever-going desire to always look cool and controlled it seemed like the last weeks of additional work had taken its toll on him, too.

His eyebrow rose when he saw me and he asked: “Still awake?”

I smiled, “Yes, but I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, Filch was bothering me with some rebelling students in the great hall.” He sighed, looked back and continued: “But it seems like our caretaker cannot tell the difference between a lost bird and human beings.” After he shifted his gaze back at me, his forehead furrowed: “You look like you’re freezing. Were you outside?”

“Yes. I couldn’t sleep but I guess the season of pleasant night-walks is over. Now, I need a fire to turn to.” – I told him, pulling my coat closer together.

Severus mouth curved into a cheeky smile when he offered me the following: “May I suggest the one in my quarters? It would be my pleasure.”

“Yes, absolutely!” – I beamed.

He looked around. We were alone and most of the students have either returned to their quarters or common rooms. He took my hand and led me to his quarters down in the Slytherin dungeons. Even though he was willing to show affections openly in London, we both somehow agreed, without talking about it, to keep it low at Hogwarts. I also didn’t feel brave enough to directly talk about it. I always dreaded being the one asking the ‘What are we?’ question. Many men have accused me of being clingy, holding naïve expectations and I hated the patronising tone in their voices. With Severus, I just followed with what worked now. I didn’t want to ruin anything. I was scared despite his assurances in the beginning that if he loved again it would only be in a serious relationship.

When we arrived at his quarters, he prepared tea and put the fire on in the fireplace with a quick spell.

“Waaaaarmm” I only uttered while taking a seat in front of the fire.

He scoffed with his signature sarcasm: “Excellent conclusion, Professor. Fire is indeed warm. Some might even argue it’s ‘hot’.” I laughed. But two can play that game, so I replied: “Wow, that’s outrageous! This is science going too far!”

He chuckled and sat next to me. I snuggled into his arm and he held me tight. This felt wonderful, just like coming home. I missed him so dearly during the last couple of weeks. By the looks of it, Severus seemed to feel the same. He was beaming, smiling and petting me softly on my shoulders and arms. It was so cosy and warm. After a while I told him: “I never thought I’d spend my evenings like this at Hogwarts. I could get used to it. Maybe I’ll even enjoy winter like that.”

“Not fan of snow and Christmas?” – he asked curiously.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong I LOVE Christmas but the cold and the dark and everything.. not so much. It’s depressing really. I like the spooky tones of autumn and Halloween but winter is.. heavy and frustrating somehow.” Thinking to myself, I often dreaded that seasonal depression also exists among wizards without a cure. In the end, I rather enjoyed a good and fine summer day than a day of heavy winter numbness. But to each his own.

He nodded. “I see your point. For me, it’s not much of a difference really. At least in winter, many students stay indoors and refrain from walking illegally on the grounds after dark. Either way…I agree, I certainly could enjoy winter.. like this.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head on mine. He seemed relaxed and happy and that meant everything to me. We talked a bit about the last weeks and how he wished Dumbledore would return soon. Apparently, Minerva is rather annoyed with the whole affair as she didn’t think his trip was necessary. After we had done enough ranting about our day, I was longing to ask something different.

“Severus?”

“Yes?”

“A while ago, you mentioned you had one or two ‘unpleasant experiences’. Would you… like to talk to me about it? I just.. I want to get to know you better and it seemed like it was important to you.”

He was quiet at first and looked up in deep thought. Then he said: “It’s difficult… for me to talk about these events. You might have noticed I’m what people call a ‘buttoned-up’ person. But don’t think I don’t want to share these memories with you. I do. Maybe I just need more time. I’m sorry.”

I took his hand and said: “It’s fine! Really. I respect and understand that. Do you want me to tell you anything we haven’t talked about before?”

He said in a cautious tone: “You mentioned your last relationship..”

“Yes right…” I pondered about how to tell the boring story. “It’s not much to say, really. He always had to have the upper hand. He looked down on me and my passions, my interests, my concerns. In the end, he showed a complete disinterest in my life. I should’ve taken this as a sign to leave but I stayed because.. well we’ve been together for so long. It can’t end that way, can it? He made me feel like I was annoying, clingy, selfish and I believed him. I thought, something must have been wrong with me. I needed to improve. But even my improvement was not enough, which basically was me trying to become his ‘perfect girl’; always doing what he wants, listening to all his problems while staying quite on mine, being attentive and subservient. Yet, after he yelled at me in public calling me an ‘ungrateful bitch’ …I left. I couldn’t take it anymore. I know I was dumb to let all of that happen but…. I’m a very loyal person, forgiving and forgetting and all that. I’ve learned my lesson but I still have his voice in my head. The one telling me everything I do is wrong. I know it’s stupid but..I don’t know..”

Severus had listened attentively and with concern. He turned towards me and put his hand on my cheek: “It’s not. Stop putting yourself down. When you live with this for years it’s ingrained in you. He abused you emotionally and this leaves scares which take years to heal. The first step is certainly not putting yourself even lower than he did. You didn’t do this to yourself it was him.” I was close to tears after hearing this. I moved closer to Severus and kissed him. I didn’t know what to say nor how to say it but I knew I wanted to feel him. To thank him with my affections for understanding and not judging. He put his arms around me and held me close. Neither of us committed to let go of the other.

Our bliss was broken by a loud bang of the clock that signified it was indeed very late now. Slowly, the exhaustion of earlier crept back into my bones. But I didn’t want to leave, yet. I asked: “Severus, I know it’s late but somehow I don’t want to go. Can I… stay with you, here? Not for like.. necessarily having sex.. now. I’m really tired but I want to just stay with you.”

He studied my face for a while with a rather puzzling expression but then said: “I don’t want you to go either.” I went to my quarters to get some pyjamas and brush my teeth and stuff. I changed in his bathroom because it still felt awkward to change in front of him (bit silly, I know) and then went to his bedroom, which had its door wide open now. His bedroom consisted of a big double-bed with velvet green beddings, some dark-wood bookshelves and a huge dark closet. On a bedside table laid some books in a pile and a big Slytherin tapestry had been put on the wall. Severus was sitting unexpectedly shy on the bed in black long cotton pyjamas. He had tied his long hair into a ponytail. I sat next to him and gave him a tight hug. He then put his hand on my waist and after a while we started kissing again. When I lied down on my back, he leaned over me and put his elbows on each side of my torso. We kissed for a while further and I could feel the heat running up between my legs. Yet, I didn’t want to sleep with him for now and I felt like neither did he. I just enjoyed feeling him so closely, so intimately in his most private room. I ran my hands up his chest and put it underneath his shirt to feel his skin. I could feel his muscles and chest hair underneath. He was warm and his skin so soft. I felt his chest rising more rapidly and him breathing faster. He moved away from my face and started kissing my neck. When he was touching a rather sensitive spot there, I couldn’t help but moan. Getting the drift, he continued kissing me there until I laughed heartily. He leaned back and looked at me happily. We just smiled at each other for a while then he rolled to the side and held me close; then said “I highly enjoy this but we probably should catch some sleep.”

“I agree… to both. Though I don’t know if I can sleep with the amount of adrenaline you give to me.”

He chuckled before kissing me again. I turned to the right and he spooned me, kissing my back and wishing me a good night. But one last question came to my mind: “Sev, would you like to go with me to the Yule Ball? You know.. as a date together?” As I couldn’t really see him, I was quite nervous to hear no reply for some seconds. Finally, he said: “I’ve never had a date for that event. I’d be delighted to.” I beamed “Thank you, good Night, Sev” I uttered before we both feel into a peaceful sleep.

I had to schedule some more rehearsal dates this week as usual as we got closer and closer to the holidays and our final performance. We’ve been through the entire play and the students have become so much better. However, some things still needed additionally instructions and we needed more time. Sadly, that also meant that Severus couldn’t attend some of the additional rehearsals because Dumbledore was expected to come back next week the earliest. I missed his presence behind me and his occasional commenting on how to improve certain scenes.

At the moment, our leading role, played by a young Hufflepuff boy, struggled with Hamlet’s angry solitude after he promised his uncle and his mother to stay in Denmark. He didn’t understand why Hamlet wasn’t more open in direct confrontation with his uncle instead of holding his tongue. Despite him being deep in mourning, he let the king scold him about his unmanly grief. I hope I could make him understand what the reasons were and that it’s always difficult to criticise people with immense power.

On Friday evening, I received a letter from Severus telling me to come to his classroom as soon as I could. I was worried and rushed there immediately. When I entered the classroom, Severus stood leaning onto his desk looking quite troubled. He just said: “I know who it was.”

It took some time for me to get what he meant. He meant the person who destroyed my classroom. It didn’t seem like good news though…

“Who?”

“Draco Malfoy. And you can conclude yourself whose boy that is.”

“fuck…”

“Yes, indeed. I had my suspicions but no proof. However, during my potions class today, he bragged to his classmates that he’d plan another attack. Or maybe he wanted me to know and looked for my approval. I’ve talked to him and made the opposite clear. I don’t think he will go through with that particularly pathetic plan but.. there’s not much I can do.” He sighed heavily.. “I’ve talked to Lucius just now but I can’t go as harsh as I want to. I gave him detention that he likely won’t attend because Lucius will find some excuse or other to slither his way out as before. I’ve taken house points but that isn’t important to him. Lucius power as school benefactor is too big. And Albus is as uncooperative as always. He thinks it’s not worth the trouble if he hasn’t killed anyone. His absence right now doesn’t make it any better.”

I shook my head and was shocked. I didn’t think our headmaster would push that aside so easily nor protect certain students in that way. I told Severus that Dumbledore had always supported me but I reckoned even Hogwarts needed money from those kind of benefactors.

Severus retorted harshly: “It’s not even that. It’s also the connections. Lucius is a master in manipulating everyone to his favour. The minister thinks highly of him. He respects me to a certain degree but because I’ve changed over the years and he stayed very much the same his goodwill towards me has decreased. He also finally catches the drift that he can’t manipulate me. I’ve seen through his tricks. Lucius is terribly predictably even when he thinks he is so clever. But..” and here he clenched his hands digging his nails into the desk “We can’t shut him down. We can’t throw him out of the parent’s counsel. We can’t punish his son too harshly because he’ll twist it into a conspiracy and damage our reputation with the state. Albus knows this, everyone knows this and thus we must comply. It’s the same old story and I’m so.. sick.. of.. IT.” He looked away from me and I could feel his frustration and anger despite his utmost control. I stepped closer to him but was taken back by a stern “Don’t.”

What to do now? I sincerely just wanted to hug him and somehow comfort him and said: “Severus, I can see you’re angry and frustrated. So am I. But we will just go on. We’ll prove them wrong. And now that we know who it was we can both outsmart this boy and his following. It’ll be ok. You’re everything but powerless.”

He scoffed without looking up: “That’s what you seem to believe despite it all?”

“Yes, and it’s true.”

“I can’t get him off the school. I can’t get anyone off here. No bully and swine that roams these halls will be punished. I can give detention or take house points but what does it really change for those who have power? Nothing! I’m older. I’m the teacher and yet I can’t change a goddamn thing and so many people are just looking away and.. I..” And here something made him stop his tracks and he uttered: “Please. Leave me alone for a while.”

“No.” I thought to myself that I couldn't leave him like this.

He looked surprised at my refusal and chuckled in a sad way: “I’m not asking.”

“And I’m not your student nor your slave, Severus. You are angry, rightfully so and it’s ok to show this. I want to get to know you more and I want to share the feelings you feel. It’s fine with me. You don’t have to pretend. You’re not weak in showing emotions and expressing them. You don’t need to be in control all the time. Just let me get close to you. Let’s scream and shout and be angry together and then we’ll find a solution. You are not alone anymore. I won’t look away. I’m here, please!” – and I started sobbing because I didn’t want him to feel like he can’t do these things. I didn’t want him to feel powerless or alone or useless. He is the most wonderful person and I wanted to give him and myself hope.

Severus still didn’t look at me, his long hair hid his face. I stepped towards him and hugged him tight, kissed him softly on his cheeks. I was ready to be pushed away but that didn’t happen. I felt him shaking. After a while, he put his arms around me, regaining his composure a bit, hugging me tightly. He continued to hide his face by hugging me and that was ok. I’ve never seen him that vulnerable before. He always seemed to know better, to be prepared. But here he let himself be unreasonable. And that meant the world to me.

After a while, he let go of the hug and faced me again after adjusting his hair. He looked tired, his face was wet so he might have been crying just like me. But there was a kind and loving smile on his face. He kissed me lovingly and then just whispered:“Thank you.”

We talked after this and agreed we’d continued rehearsing and preparing the play. In addition to our current security plans, we might hire some of the prefects of other houses to stand guard as they were more keen on standing up to Slytherin. Also, we talked about how we could punish Malfoy’s boy without drawing attention to us. Nothing too harsh of course. Yet, we both can definitely outsmart him. Severus seemed to have regained his usual composure, his snarkiness and sarcasm. I think all this brought us closer together and I felt like he trusted me more.

Finally, Dumbledore returned and Severus was discharged of his additional administrational tasks. It was also the week of the Yule Ball and everyone was busy thinking about dresses and dates. It’s a weird that the ball is named after Yule but takes place much earlier than the actual Yule time. No one knew why it simply wasn’t renamed. Traditions be like that.

The evening before the ball, Remus and I met up to show off our outfits and catch up on the latest gossip. He stood in front of me with a very fine and elegant brown Victorian suit, which he wore with a silk dark yellow cravat. The colour combination worked well on him though I personally wouldn’t have chosen something like that for myself. I nodded in approval and told him: “What a fine gentleman we have here! You look exquisitely handsome. Sirius will be pleased to have you as a dance partner.” Remus bowed jokingly and replied: “Thank you, thank you! Yes, he’s one lucky guy indeed. But come one, now it’s your turn!” I went into the bathroom to change into my chosen dress. It was a long, slim dress made of dark-blue silk with star constellations stitched upon it. I had a fitting blue jacket in case it gets too cold. I also wore a golden necklace with a (fake) diamond star pendant and a simple golden bracelet. What can I say? I just like stars and it’s quite fitting with the Ravenclaw theme, too. I put my hair into a chignon and put my pearl (once again fake, I’m poor) earrings in. When I came out to model for Remus he just gasped and exclaimed: “OMG our little Ravenclaw star! You look very beautiful! Severus is a lucky man.”

I turned around playfully a couple of times more and then said: “I sure hope so…. Maybe he’ll gets discouraged though when I mess up the first dance with him..”

Remus jokingly threw a lose grape in my direction: “Oh shut it! We’ve practiced so much this week. You’ll be fine! Believe me! Just look him lovingly in the eyes and he’ll forget about everything anyway.” He winked and refilled my glass of champagne. We talked for some hours more, guessing everyone’s date and exchanging stories about our classes being obsessed of finding the right partner. Remus was glad Minerva decided to give all houses dancing lessons as Severus and Flitwick continued to ignore the pleas of their students to teach them more about it. I had to admit, I was very nervous and excited for the next day..

[trashbaggage]

started with a throwaway idea for ridiculous immortal!jaskier

had a breakdown about how one of his biggest fears is probably to matter so little as to be forgotten

bon appétit

He doesn't remember Before.

Before he had become a lost wanderer. Before he had woken, cold and alone, in a nameless town of strange faces. Before he forgot where he came from and started towards a life hopefully worth remembering.

If he focuses hard enough on that blank dark ocean of what was, he can see a twisted shape and a hunger never met with satisfaction. If he traces the small mark at the base of his skull, he can feel an ice-sharp claw of fear reaching in and pulling. He doesn't know how the mark came to be, but he knows it is jagged and hurt and there - an exit wound made raw by the relentless scrape of memories being extracted and consumed.

He had felt so hollow, those days after whatever had attacked him. So full of emptiness he could scream just from the paradox alone. At least he had come to in a room already paid for, with a few possessions that seemed to be his. For three days he stayed in that space, just to feel the walls block out the rest of the world he could not remember being a part of. But he could not stay there forever, and even though he ate during the days, a growing hunger still gnawed; he soon realized he had seen its match Before and he could only hope it would not prove as terrifying and insatiable.

That was a very short hope.

On the fourth day he left his little room, its comfort no longer enough. He told himself he just needed some fresh air to clear his head, some solid earth beneath his feet. But in the back of his mind, centered just by that mark, he knew he was hunting.

As the night fell around him, so did his new instinct, a cloak of stalking need - and even worse, a wanting thrill. He likes to tell himself he doesn't really recall what happened next, that it too was lost to him just like the Before. But this....this he remembers in scarring detail. A man ahead of him in the crowd, making his way between two buildings, thinking the shadowed alley will get him home quicker to his waiting family; following the man and calling out a greeting, a seemingly innocent question of direction - a trap to bring him closer; and the snare of his hands catching fast and quick upon the back of the man's head, his eyes going distant and glass-like in seconds. The only consolation he can give himself is that he didn't drain the man dry, but the man - Szymon, another thing he can't forget though he wishes dearly he could - went home that night with no memory of his ten year old daughter. Those years gone, and he does not know how to give them back; does not know if he even would after they had filled up that cored-out hollow inside, had quieted that hunger. For a time.

He goes back to his room that night and doesn't sleep.

-

He moves on the next morning, packing up his things and walking out of that town with a straight back and feet that want to run. He has no idea where he is going, or who may be waiting for him somewhere, anywhere; he fears, deep down to his marrow, that no one is. He just keeps moving, trying to stick to smaller villages and less-traveled roads; he thinks he has never done so much camping, but that's just an educated guess. Anything to keep away from other people, with their rich pasts calling out to him like feasts waiting to be consumed. He stretches himself thin, starving until he can no longer take the gnashing hunger, and even then he only tries to take the scraps he hopes no one will miss too much. There are a few slip-ups here and there, but his control gets better through gory practice.

And yet another problem arises; he feeds his hunger, and while that keeps him alive and going, it does not change how wrong he feels. Not just the heavy guilt from taking that which isn't his, but another wrongness. He has all these memories of other people's lives, all their mundanities and extraordinary moments, all their loved ones, all their lives lived, and though he owns them, for awhile, in a sense, they are not his. He is still blank. By the gods, he doesn't even know his own name! If anyone bothers to ask it of him, he gives a different one each time - nothing feels right. He knows nothing; he is nowhere and no one.

He is nothing.

-

Another few weeks. A handful of "meals". More names; his victims', that he can't forget, and those he shrugs on for a few days like an ill-fitting coat, soon to be forgotten. It doesn't really matter, anyway.

Nothing he does matters.

He had left behind a pendant, in one of the many cold rooms in the many towns full of strangers that had become a map of his sorrow. Not of his life, as he is not really living - merely surviving. They were mostly running and blurring together, at this point. But that pendant, a delicate lark with topaz chips for eyes, had been one of the few possessions he had from Before - he couldn't bear to lose any of those last ties to his past, no matter how small or frivolous, and no matter if he couldn't recall any memory attached to them. He just liked having tangible proof that he had been a real person, at some point, the kind that was thought of fondly and often, the kind who might have received such a necklace as a gift. So he made his way back to look for it.

He dearly wishes he hadn't.

It took him a few days to realize the item was missing, and by the time he noticed, turned around, and made it back to Velen, about two weeks had passed. He found his way back with little trouble, a cozy place with a red roof (creatively called The Red Roof Inn), just on the border of Novigrad. The same lovely young woman greeted him as he walked in, and he made his way over.

"Hello again, Ada! I know you must be tired of seeing this weary face, but I do believe I left something here and would very much like to see its return. Did you or any one of your lovely patrons find a little gold pendant? In the shape of a lovely lark? It's very important to me, you see." He may be a tad more desperate to find it than he thought - he's using more words and charm than he has in the past few weeks, but it does feel nice to converse with someone. And the girl had been very friendly to him during his first visit; they had even passed one of the nights with silly card games and some really excellent cakes she had made. It seemed they were both lonely souls.

A strange look passed over her face, and she just stared at him for a good few moments. He was about to ask if something was wrong, when she very hesitantly threw his world into disarray. "I'm sorry, sir, but - um, eh, do I... know you? We don't usually get a large number of people coming through here, but I do let some slip through the cracks, as they say." Ada gives a slight, self-conscious little chuckle, and he can see that there really is no recognition in her face. "When, um, when did you say you were here last? And you lost something? Maybe - "

"No, no, that's alright," he breaks in, amazed he can squeak anything out with the way his lungs can't seem to find enough air. She doesn't know him. She doesn't remember him.

Of course.

Of fucking course she doesn't! He can feel himself losing track of his surroundings, but he can see her face becoming concerned. She says something, but the words can't get past the rushing in his ears, and he just mutters out a few more "sorrys" and "nevermind, don't worry about it" and "made a mistake". He turns and runs out the door, almost tripping down the few steps outside, and keeps going until he finds himself in a pocket of quiet around the side of a building. The wood feels solid and harsh against his back as he slides down it to puddle on the ground, and he sits there for a long time, trying to get his breath and his mind back.

He leaves without the pendant.

-

The coin in his bag is running low, and he's not even sure how he gained it in the first place. He starts picking up odd jobs here and there, small things that toss little company and a few coins his way. It keeps him focused during the day, but the nights are still hard, yawning open and calling out for him to fall further adrift. He finally picks up the scuffed but well-loved lute that was with his possessions when he woke - he had only run his hands over the strings briefly, before he shut it away in its case. Now he brings it out and lays it on his lap, waiting to see if it sparks any memory; it doesn't, unsurprisingly - at least, not any visual memory. But as he brings it up, he finds his hands curling around its body, cradling it, and he feels settled for the first time in a long while. The notes he picks out are rough and scattered, nothing you could even generously call a song coming forth. He keeps working at it, though, and as the stars wink above him he welcomes the night with an aching but proud melody. He looks at the calluses on his fingers, built up on years of songs he can't remember, and thinks maybe I can create some beauty for the world, to help pay for my ugliness.

He falls asleep just before dusk, the lute still in his arms, and he does not dream of names and faces that don't belong to him. It is the best sleep he's ever gotten, and in the morning he comes awake slow and warm and refreshed. And so he keeps playing, his hands remembering where his mind forgets, and he makes up new tunes and lyrics and songs aplenty; it seems his hands were just waiting for that first chord to be struck. It creates a different hunger in him, but this one he isn't afraid of.

-

He is in another small town, just on the outskirts, helping out an older couple with their broken fence. They had offered him a warm meal and a warm bed for his work, and he is grateful for the kindness. He tries to keep himself so distant from people, to not hurt more than he can help it, and he gets so very lonely.

The sun is high overhead, the afternoon at its peak, and he has found a shaded spot for a break. The woman, Lena, had brought him a tall glass of cold water, fresh from the earth, and it tastes clear and sharp on his tongue. He decides to bring out his lute for some practice, and starts playing a silly little song about the flowering spring come to play, with her green locks buzzing with the hum of honeybees and her feet waltzing through streams and time alike; it feels the perfect atmosphere to play it. As he finishes a verse and rounds back to the chorus again, he hears a little voice from behind humming along, echoing his words back at him. He keeps playing, but turns to see the couple's granddaughter, a young girl of about eight or nine, dancing there with a basket of fresh-picked flowers; he thinks they will make an excellent wreath. As he winds down his song and slowly fades out the notes, she comes closer to him and holds out her dirt-covered palm, smiling the smile of two friends sharing a secret.

"I like your song," she says shyly. "You have a nice voice. Dziadek says nice things given should be thanked, so thank you." She shakes her outstretched hand slightly, and the little flower resting there catches his eye. It's a sunny and bright buttercup, and it's presented with the same gravitas as if it were solid gold. He reaches out to take it, and twirls it as he brings it up to his nose to breathe its fresh scent deep.

"Well, thank you for the thanks, and I shall treasure this token of our great and legendary friendship!" He cannot seem to stop smiling, and his chest feels like it's blooming. "Would you like to hear another song? I think you'd enjoy the ballad of Zofia the adventurer, who roams across the continent and makes friends with everyone she meets."

Her eyes light up and she plops down before him. "That's my name! Yes yes, play it!" A pause as she settles for a moment and says solicitously, "please", before she's back to dancing in her seat. He definitely can't hold back a laugh at that, and rewards such good manners with the promised song. He plays for her for a good twenty minutes before she's called back to the house, and as she leaves, still humming and singing snippets of the song he made for her, he reaches up to the buttercup tucked behind his ear and doesn't feel that ever-lurking hunger.

-

At the next place he stops, the innkeeper asks for his name as he's buying a room. He smiles as his mouth forms around "Jaskier", and it doesn't feel like a lie.

-

It's been a few years since he became Jaskier, and he still travels about like a petal on the breeze, uprooted but still going. Still alive. He can scarcely believe it himself. Lady luck seemed fond of fucking him over, but there was one benefit she tossed out like a battered bone to a starving dog: he doesn't seem to be aging. He hasn't caught any sickness in the past few years either. He's gotten into a few scrapes and dust-ups here and there, some truly unfortunate misunderstandings, but they healed pretty quick - especially if he'd been fed.

Which is another small miracle as well. The "rules" surrounding his condition aren't quite as set as he'd first believed. Certainly, the quickest way to address the hunger was to glut himself at the source, to find some poor soul and latch on for a quick meal. But other people's memories of their own lives and personal histories are not the only sustenance that can feed him - it seems writing himself in their memories works too. The more lasting the impression, the more energy he gains, and they even....taste different as well.

Memories unconnected to him taste bland in the worst way - like you know it tastes of the sweetest ambrosia to others, but it turns to ash in your own mouth, and you get echoes of what could have been, what everyone else seems to have but you. The memories he creates and becomes a part of have more substance. More zest. He's been playing taverns and inns along his meandering path, and those nights with generous and receptive (and drunk) crowds are the best - as people stumble out after or up to their rooms, still humming his songs, he feels full for at least a week, and he can taste happiness like crisp apples or a cold ale. And as he has become more comfortable around people again, in control enough to sate his loneliness on a more face-to-face basis, if you will, he's found himself some lovely company, and those memories he leaves his lovers with are tangy citrus and refreshing for a quick snack or pick-me-up. Although, of course, there are those few unfortunate misunderstandings he finds himself in, usually, he admits, in conjunction with those romps, and the tang can soon turn more sour and acidic - he's still full for a day or two, but it's uncomfortable and doesn't sit quite right.

He knows he has become louder over the years, everything about him calling out for a look, a remark, for attention. Brightly colored doublets garner admiring glances; a flash of silver or gold about his fingers make others want to reach out and touch; a sly wink and stories told through movement as much as words gathers people closer. After keeping himself so separate and quiet, shrinking himself down to pass unnoticed and hopefully unharmed, for all parties concerned, to let go and be so blatantly present is a thrill; he may be forgotten, but he refuses to be ignored.

(On his more maudlin days, he does wonder if this newfound freedom is truly a blessing - is being Jaskier the slow return of who he was Before? Is there anything real in the artifice he adopted to fit in and make life easier? Getting too philosophical makes his temples throb, so he just gives thanks that he may still be lonely now, but at least he's not so alone.)

[roxannarambles]

Top 3 Favorites Of Fire Emblem 3 Houses

It’s time once again for Top Three! This time, for Fire Emblem: Three Houses, a game I’m rather late to playing but have finally gotten around to!

I’ve decided to divide it by houses and give my top three favorites from each of the playable characters from the three houses/four routes. 

(Contains a few plot spoilers.)

Black Eagles

1.) Caspar

Caspar isn’t a perfect guy; he tends to have a disturbing tendency toward black-and-white thinking on morality, dividing the world into pure heroes and pure evil, and he doesn’t always stop to ponder the more intricate details of moral quandaries. Yet, despite that fact, in his heart he means well, and you cannot help but love him anyway. He’s enthusiastic and earnest, whole-hearted in what he does, and will fight fiercely to protect his friends. His voice actor is simply splendid and I think half of why I adore his character so much; the delivery is just perfect. The character will bring humor and energy to almost any situation, and both those elements are valuable standouts in a game with often heavy story themes.

2.) Petra

In a lot of ways, Petra is simply fulfilling a warrior princess archtype; a self-reliant huntress, proud, fierce, grateful to the blessings of mother nature, confidant, driven. With all that, it’s hard to find anything to dislike about her. She’s genuinely open and caring with everyone, despite the injustices against her country. She works very hard and carries the burden of an entire country on her shoulders with poise. She also makes for a powerful assassin unit.

3.) Linhardt

Linhardt is, to be perfectly honest, probably suffering from some pretty bad depression. His tendency to skip sleep some nights in favor of binge-studying, and then to sleep excessively and at all odd hours of the day, doesn’t read as “quirky” to me so much as a plain and very real symptom of depression (which can manifest in a number of ways, including insomnia and excessive sleep). His general attiude of apathy, again, seems a rather plain sign of depression. Considering the troubles of his past that he mentions he’s been trying to avoid confronting, this does make sense. While I don’t particularly enjoy Linhardt’s apathy and sleepiness, he’s actually quite a nice intellectual and a very good friend, when he puts his mind to it. 

Blue Lions

1.) Ashe

Ashe is a Very Good Boy, My Good Son. He’s as sweet and pure as a summer’s afternoon and I won’t suffer any fools who say otherwise. He dreams big and he actually puts the effort out to pursuing those dreams. Even when others try to dissaude him, or tell him he’s being niave to have such glowing ideals of knighthood, he fights for them anyway and follows his heart. He also cares deeply about his family and does all he can to take care of them, putting their needs above his own. And, he’s flippin’ adorable. What a lovely person.

2.) Felix

Ok, look. I don’t always like rude, bitchy, acerbic tsunderes. But when I do, I like me some Felix. Apparently. Felix is a disappointingly rather two-dimentional character in a lot of ways, since he falls into the “obsessive swordsman trope” that Lon'qu, Rutger and others also fall into. He obsesses over his swordplay and over improving himself, but there is no real core to WHY he obsesses over it; what drives him. The support conversation with Byleth and Felix explores this, but the conclusion never actually reaches any reason why he obsesses over it. He simply wants to be strong for the sake of strong. He has no idea why and never actually finds a reason. I find this deeply unsatisfying. Still, despite this fact, I cannot help but enjoy him anyway. His bitchiness and tsundere behavior is highly entertaining to me. And he does seem to at least draw some very clear lines: as obsessed as he is with power for sheer power’s sake, he is truly disgusted at excessive bloodshed and cruelty. He’s equally disgusted at romanticizing battle or dying for your ideals-- although I think his interactions with Ashe make him consider that sacrificing for your ideals may not be so terrible after all. 

3.) Annette

She’s bubbly, cheerful, energetic, loves to learn, is super friendly and often silly and provides comedic relief. The Blue Lions are generally a bunch who carry some pretty heavy emotional baggage-- so Annette’s presence is pretty essential to lighten the tone at times and help buoy people up. That’s not to say Annette doesn’t have her own shit to deal with, considering her father left her and her mother when she was still young. Still, she is a resiliant person who manages to carry on with aplomb despite that pain. And we get to enjoy her reconciliation with her father during the Blue Lion route, which is quite nice. 

Golden Deer

1.) Claude

Claude . . . Claude has so much great potential as a character, but I feel he was short-changed, in the end. He has an intriguing combination: he’s a man who has built up a reputation of being a sneaky, devious schemer, somebody to not be trusted and who does not trust others-- who relies soley on himself. Yet, on the other hand, he also has big, flowery dreams of creating a world that has destroyed racism and xenophobia, that welcomes and celebraties diversity and differences of all stripes. For all his claims of being self-serving and mistrustful, his dreams are enormously altruistic and compassionate. There was great potential in exploring this contradiction in his character, as well as tracing Claude’s path of slowly opening up and learning to trust others with his tender heart-- such as with Byleth. The trouble is this never actually HAPPENS in his route. The main plot focuses mostly on the actual military strategy; it does not go into the character development he so deeply deserved. His support conversations with Byleth were intended to show this character development, but without actually showing how he got from Point A to Point B-- wary and mistrustful vs. learning to open up-- it rings hollow to me. It’s frustrating, because I do love Claude dearly (deer-ly, haha. . .). He deserved, quite frankly, so much better.  

2.) Leonie

Leonie is very straightforward: what you see is really what you get. She’s a Commoner from a small village with big dreams of heoric mercenary life-- not all that dissimilar, really, from Ashe’s big dreams of heroic knighthood. She managed to drum up support (both emotional and financial) from her village and now feels obligated to do them all proud and pay them back for their support and kindness. While she can be a little single-minded at times about her adore for Jeralt (sometimes even lashing out in jealousy at Byleth), overall she’s a strong-willed, clever, and very determined young lady. I can’t help but love her. She also excels as a fantastic unit to use in-game, powerful, versitile, and getting so much done through pure grit, without any of the advantages or leg-ups that the Crest-bearing nobles are in posssession of. 

3.) Ignatz

I do realize this is Sweet And Pure Archer Son Number Two on my list, but there’s no way he’s not going on the list. He’s just too wonderful. Look at my son!!! He loves his family dearly and puts aside his own dreams to honor their needs and wishes! But he also can never quite give up on his artistic dreams and his friends all gradually encourage him to have the confidance to pursue them! He is so polite and sweet and friendly and shy! He has adorable little daydreams about the Goddess and has a crush on Saint Cethleann! He has such a huge glow-up after the timeskip and turns into such a dependable, strong young man who fights for justice and always holds such tender compassion in his heart! He’s great. :)

Church of Seiros

1.) Seteth

I would be repeating myself if I wrote anything here expounding upon my love of Seteth, which is as wide and deep as the blue-green seas. So I will just link you to a previous post. That should explain exactly how my feelings evolved over time about Seteth. He was an absolute surprise and a joy to discover. I never expected to fall in love with him; when I first started playing I always expected that Claude would be the one to steal my heart, not this mysterious man. But life’s funny like that.

2.) Alois

This man is a giant freaking dork and a goober, and I feel a great deal of affection for him. He makes me feel happy and safe and he is a great adoptive brother/dad/uncle/whatever. Truly, the game and the church would feel much emptier with him not around (and much quieter, haha). 

3.) Shamir

Shamir, when you first run into her, simply seems rude and cold. In fact, you will probably always have that impression of her, unless you read her support conversations. Once you access her supports, a whole new story is told. While she’s reserved and can be curt, she really does have a warmer side, growing to truly care for her allies. She’s deeply thoughtful and reflective, full of surprising insights. She’s also a remarkably talented mercenary and assasin, but while she insists she’s simply a sellsword, she does care about more then just the pay and survival. 

[svnofachilles]

— UPDATED INTRO.

(eventually will have a bio page done for him but in the mean time have this very long intro post ! )

max irons, thirty-one, aryndale, male ––– i believe that is ALEXANDER julius FREY, the KING of ARYNDALE. they are THIRTY-ONE years old and are known to be very +PASSIONATE & +JUST, though they can also be very -DOGMATIC & -AMBITIOUS. he reminds me of a collection of hunting trophies; all predators, the sharp smell of early winter in the dawn air, the calm before a gruesome battle, a bear sigil, being brave even when you feel afraid, a heavy fur cloak, blood seeping into snow and earth. ( chai, 22, gmt-8, she/her )

inspired by: king arthur (merlin, camelot and other shows/books/movies), achilles (greek myth), prince andrei (war & peace)

T R I V I A

𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦: xander (goes exclusively by this, hates being called alexander or alex)

𝘢𝘨𝘦: 31

𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦: king

𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: heteroflexible

𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴: married

𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺: aryndale

𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦: aryndale

P E R S O N A

𝘻𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘤 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯: leo sun aries moon scorpio rising

𝘮𝘣𝘵𝘪: estj

𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴: passionate, just, charismatic, honorable, open-minded, flirtatious

𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴: venegful, gluttonous, arrogant, dogmatic, ambitious, capricious

𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴: horses/horseback riding, swords, combat/military, bitter red wine, savory foods, his kids, pretty women, hunting, archery, meat, gold, power, sunrises, waking up early, summer time, painting/sculpting, fencing, jousting, sports/athletics, being in charge, nature, animals, fur cloaks, being praised

𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴: being questioned, being told what to do, the cold, iilyria, political meetings, religion, women drama, beer, spears/lances, the ocean, boat rides, diplomacy, studying, rooms with no windows, roses, sweet things, coffee, mushrooms, card games

P H Y S I C A L

𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴: dark hazel, thick eyelashes

𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳: light brown, naturally curly

𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: 6 ft 3 inches

𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: 205 pounds

𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵: bonfire smoke, evergreen trees, iron, and horses

C O N N E C T I O N S

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴: marcus frey (called marcus the magnificent by the people) (predecessor, deceased), tbd frey

𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: titus frey (older brother, FORMER CROWN PRINCE, deceased) corrine frey (younger sister), catelyn frey (younger sister), tbd frey, tbd frey

𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦: isabel frey

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴: genevieve brewer

𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯: elijah frey (son, legitimate, CROWN PRINCE, 6), gaia frey (daughter, legitimate, 3)

𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴: tbd ryback (king of iilyria)

𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴: tbd.

𝘯𝘦𝘶𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭: roland boucher (king of gondour)

𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴: tbd.

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴: tbd.

𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴: tbd.

H E A D C A N O N S

is a total extra brat?? and goes by xander bc he was named after his grandfather, (so technically he is king alexander II) and wanted to be more distinguished from him than just being “junior” or “the second”, so he opted to start going by xander in his early teens. basically wants to be mr. different™ and unique.

often referred to as “the bear king” or “the wild king” for his fiercesome reputation in battle and affinity/talented reputation for hunting

the second born son and child of the frey family, he was the first spare prince to be born in the family. the son directly after the heir, the beloved crown prince. xander was always bitter about this fact, and always secretly believed he would make a better king than his elder brother. his father had xander trained and educated alongside his older brother, training them both as his heirs though naming titus his official heir. the other princes weren’t trained or educated the same way, treated as regular princes. xander spent most of his childhood playing second fiddle to his older brother- it didn’t help either that they were so close in age (two years apart). xander was constantly treated as the replacement, the back up. his elder brother titus was loved by the people and the obvious favorite of their parents.

alexander is still secretly wracked with guilt over his brothers death, he spent years secretly wishing he could be the crown prince, wishing his older brother didn’t exist— so he feels partly to blame no matter how irrational that is. another reason for his guilt is that he wasn’t there with his father and brother during the invasion, unable to save them. he feels like if he had been there things might’ve been different. the day of the invasion he had been left behind at the castle, while his father and brother went to the border to check on a strange message from one of the generals stationed there.

has the most military achievements and prowess of all his siblings. before becoming the king he had had plans of becoming a general and pursing a military career. he excels the most in physical matters, athletics, combat, military strategies etc. his weaknesses lies in academics/diplomacy/politics (outside of strategy and philosophy). so a bit of a himbo lol.

becoming king has begun to change him, his ambitions have been growing as well as his sense of entitlement and arrogance. he’s also started to become increasingly promiscuous— when he was younger he was never a casanova (but not a prude in anyway either). but lately the longer he’s been king the more tempted he’s become to have his cake and eat it too. why not explore all the perks of being king?

due to his father and brother dying defending aryndale from the iilyrian attempted invasion years ago, the arynite king hates iilyria and has no plans for peace. he wants justice and revenge, and has secret goals of invading and conquering iilyria for himself.

he loves his county and people deeply, and would do anything for them. he hopes his reign will be a golden era for his people, he wants to expand aryndales power, make them richer and stronger. he also wants to improve education and social/economical issues within his country. desperately wants to do the best he can for his country— and wants to be remembered fondly by history.

met his wife isabel when they were kids, grew up together— she was even his first kiss. no one was surprised when he asked her to marry him at age 21, and no one was surprised when she said yes. it’s safe to say she is his first love, though in recent years the strain of being king, the war, and his recent subtle personality changes and infidelity have started to cause conflicts between them.

definitely can be a bit of a bully or shit starter at times, though my bb really does mean well at the end of the day— he just has a really bad way of showing it most of the time.

in regards to sexuality, for the most part he is straight— but he has some gay tendencies he doesn’t want to see or admit to. definitely closeted and/or confused. he has a strong preference for women and for the most part ignores the occasional rare homosexual attractions he feels.

loves his children dearly and wants more!! a lot more lol! having a lot of siblings of his own, he wants a large family for his own kids. he currently has two children by his wife isabel frey, the queen, a six year old son named elijah and a three year old daughter named gaia.

as for his mistress, genevieve, he met her within the last 9-12 months and was immediately taken by her. currently she isn’t his official royal mistress (yet), but everyone knows about their affair (unofficially, so everyone gossips behind closed doors about it at the moment).

in true leo fashion he’s kind of !! dramatic ? passionate ! and has a temper ! he also has a taste for luxury and extravagance, especially lately. also very flirtatious and cocky, flirts a lot without meaning it in recent years— increasingly so. enjoys teasing and getting a rise out of others as well! but also being king now, he is very careful about hiding his emotions, vulnerabilities, and weaknesses now. feigning an air of haughty indifference most of the time.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Here's an idea: if Ruby+ Oscar are brought to the Dark Domain, their arc could parallel Dorothy's time as the Wicked Witch of the West's captive. Dorothy couldn't be harmed by anyone from Oz, so WWOW made her into her servant while trying to figure out a way to get the Silver Slippers off her. Salem wants Ruby alive, possibly to learn about the Silver Eyes, and while she hates Ozpin, she wouldn't pass up the chance to torture him now that he's in her clutches. (To be continued)

“So borrowing from your headcannons, Oscar would be held captive but in luxury, watched over by MEH (Since Hazel hates Ozpin and would watch him like a hawk and Em and Merc don’t have emotional ties to him). Meanwhile in an attempt to learn more about the Silver Eyes, Salem inflicts dozens of grimm on Ruby, driving her near the brink of death too many times to count before being healed and forced back into the fray. Oh, and she makes sure Oscar and Ozpin can watch all of this via Seer Grimm…”

Squiggles Answers:

Hey Miki-chan! I actually quite dig thatidea.

I wasn’t aware of the part of the Wizard of Oz story where Dorothy wasmade a servant of the Wicked Witch. I knew about her being kidnapped by theFlying Monkeys along with the Cowardly Lion while the Tin Man and the Scarecrowwere destroyed but I didn’t know about this plot detail until you mentioned it. Now thatI know, I think it’s perfect. It’s an excellent way to blend both of Dark Domain headcanons—Oscar becoming a prisoner of Salem and being forced to becompliant with her demands and Ruby and Oscar being kidnapped together—and do them both, killing two theories with one season which can pay homage to its fairytale counterparts.

Remember in my Oscar’s Grimm BuddyPinehead headcanon, I mentioned Oscar being forced into behave himself while incaptivity since Salem was also holding innocent Atlesians, abducted during theFall of Atlas hostage and would torture them unless Oscar acted obediently? Ican definitely see Salem using Oscar’s bond to Ruby as blackmail him in a similar fashion.

Like pictureSalem promising to torture Ruby or worse kill her unless Oscar behaved himself and did what he was told like a ‘good little boy’. 

It can even be a thing where she manipulatesboth Rosebuds—forcing them each to comply to her wishes as a means of keepingtheir partner safe. So Salem tells Oscar to stay put, locked away within his confines of his lonely tower as ameans of protecting Ruby. Whereas with Ruby, Salem provides the Silver Eyed Warrior no other option but to play her servant and take part in her little experiments with the Grimm battles otherwise Oscar would fall victim to punishment on her behalf. Soon both ends, Ruby and Oscar have no choice but to do what’s necessary to protect eachother from any cruel fate Salem could deal to them while under her imprisonment. I can see Salem playing that type of vicious mind games with both youngbuds.

The only thing I’m not sure about isthe inclusion of Team MEH being around. I always figured that those three wouldor…at least, should’ve been off on their own little adventure— assigned to retrieving the Relic of Destruction in Vacuo during the events of the Atlas Trilogy.

I mean I don’t mind if they stickaround. It could give them a purpose in this potential Dark Domain standalone season.

Do you know what would be interesting?If while watching over Oscar, in their own way, Mercury, Emerald and Hazel go through a moment with Oscar that results in them turning a new leaf andopting to help him and Ruby escape.

Perhaps Hazel will find a means to forgive Ozpin through Oscar and will come to wish to protect the young boy since he reminded him of his sister. Technically, there was a witch in Hansel and Gretel and my memory of the fairytale serves correctly, Hansel and Gretel met a witch who locked them away and attempted to fatten them up in order to eat them. However Hansel and Gretel managed to trick the witch in letting her believe that they were all skin and bones. Then at the end of that story, Hansel and Gretel managed to escape the witch by trapping her inside her own oven—I think that’s how that story ends.

Perhaps Hazel is assigned to be Oscar’s caretaker. But during his time with the young farm boy, Hazel comes to slowly care for Oscar as he sees his beloved sister mirrored in him in spite of his vendetta against Ozpin. And when Hazel learns that Salem plans on killing Oscar, he winds up tricking Salem and helping Oscar escape? Or perhaps he helps Ruby? I dunno. I could see Hazel helping either one of the Rosebuds.

As for Mercury, he’s a tough case. Like you said, he and Em have no ties to Oscar and thus no real reason to care about him. However I do have one idea with Oscar that could appear to Mercury. Remember my theory for Oscar’s semblance being magic? As I’ve said previously, magic seems to be a power of infinite possibilities in RWBY. 

That being said—in V6 C9, Mercury said that his father stole his semblance and never gave it back. Losing his semblance seemed to be pinnacle turning point in Mercury’s past. So…what if...and this is a big if…Oscar could restore Mercury’s semblance using magic?

I’m actually curious how exactly did Mercury’s father ‘steal’ his semblance. Quite frankly I’d like to believe that it’s impossible for one to steal another’s semblance since it’s an extension of their aura—their very soul. 

So my guess is that Mercury’s father never stole Mercury’s semblance but in actuality, used his semblance to repress it. My theory is that Mercury still has his power but since his father made him to believe he had lost it, he created a sort of mental, spiritual block that’s been keeping Merc from tapping in his power for a long time. At least that’s what I think. It’d be interesting to see Mercury’s reaction to learning that his father had lied about stealing his power and used the fib as another means to abuse and keep Mercury down. Papa Black was a living hurdle that Mercury always felt he needed to jump over. Even now, he probably still is. 

This is another reason why I think it would be awesome if Oscar was raised by his father. This could be something he and Merc could potentially bond over. Both being sons raised by fathers. The only difference is that Oscar’s father would be the complete opposite of Mercury’s. Still it could be interesting for Oscar and Merc to interact on this particular topic which could then lead into talk about semblances. Who knows? 

As for Emerald. Perhaps she stumbles upon the Relicof Knowledge and gets to ask the final question from Jinn? And what Emerald learns from the being of the lamp results in her making a choiceto where she wants to go moving forward.

Do you know what would be pretty cool too? What If…Salem sort of coincidentally played a part in moulding all of her pawn’s stories?

Like for example, Hazel’s sister’sdeath? Somehow I have this small theory that Salem had a hand in that. Like tome, I pictured Hazel formerly being a close friend of Oz— someone who knew and trusted him dearly thatSalem wanted to turn to her side. So the wicked witch targeted someone that Hazel loved the most—his beloved little sister and spun it in a way that Oz would end up taking full responsibilityfor the ill fate that befall the poor child which would’ve made it easier for Hazel to come to her side. Orsomething to that end. 

I know that theory feels like a stretch. However, it somethingI wondered out of curiosity. Like a whatif? We’ve known from the get-go that Salem is a master manipulator and israther adept at swaying the hearts of man to do her bidding. Somehow I like theidea of Salem targeting each member of her inner circle and silentlymanipulating their stories, creating the scenarios that turned them into the people we know them now to be, praying on their vulnerability and need for revenge or some other kind of vendetta. Doubt this is the case butit’s worth thinking about.

Perhaps this is the truth Emeralduncovers from Jinn. Perhaps… Emerald becomes like Ruby in this case where she asks Jinn to showher the truth about what Salem is hiding from her Inner Circle.

And similar to how Jinn showed theheroes all the skeletons in Ozpin’s closet, perhaps at some point later in the series’ narrative, she might show the otherside of that coin that portrays what happened to Salem and all the things shedid after killing Ozma and their past family?

I think it would be cool to get aglimpse of what Salem did throughout all those years after she killed Ozma. That could be fascinating to seeunveiled. And similar to how the heroes were instantly conflicted against Ozupon learning the truth, maybe it’ll be a similar ordeal for our main team of villains—the surviving members ofSalem’s Circle.

After all, I’ve always been curious toknow how much has Salem disclosed to her minions. How much do they know about her and herpast? Does WTHEM even know about the God’s Judgement or similar to Ozpin’sgroup, have they too been blindly following their leader, too engrossed by thepromise of achieving their own selfish desires to see the full truepicture. I wonder. I guess we’ll only know in time. 

Back to the Rosebuds—like I said Ireally like this idea you presented Miki. It does present a chance to blendboth Dark Domain headcanons. Imagine Ruby and Oscar both becoming Salem’sprisoners; separated and forced to adhere to her rules as a means of keepingthe other alive. But through her wit, Ruby manages to successfully escapes hercaptivity. She then makes her way to the lonely tower where Oscar is beingheld. Ruby then battles her way through the tower before being reunited with Oscar. 

The two share a heartfelt reunion before escaping the tower as a whole. But in spite of being free, the two aren’t out of the ball park yet as they must now make thetrek across the Dark Lands in order to make it back to their friends. All thewhile this is happening, Salem has sent her pawns and Grimm to recapture ouryoung heroes.

I also like the idea of Salem secretlyplanting something inside both Ruby and Oscar as a means of tracking them. Likemaybe she attached some kind of leech-like Grimm that is connected to the SeerGrimm and that’s how she’s able to know where both children are at, at alltimes.

What could even be cooler is if thesestrange Grimm provide a means for Salem to mentally toy with Ruby and Oscar’sminds? Planting doubt in either of them as a way to pin them against eachother.

Part of Salem’s tactics hasinvolved some form of dividing those who stand against her. With the BrotherGods, she swayed First Remnant’s kingsand queens against their very creators and with Ozma as Ozpin, she turned his ownallies against him which in turn,caused a domino effect that ended with mistrust from the very people who had fate in Oz.

This could be cool. 

Although…if I had to place my bets on which Dark Domain story I could see the CRWBY doing—

A) Oscar getting kidnapped by Salem alone with RWBY forming a search party lead by Ruby to make the perilous trek into the Dark Domain to rescue him (and possibly some abducted Atlesian citizens from the Fall of Atlas).

or 

B) Ruby and Oscar both becoming Salem’s prisoners to be tortured by her individually only for the two to escape together and traverse the Grimm-infested Dark Lands alone to make it back to civilization and their friends.

…Either can work but…I’m gonna have to go with Oscar captured alone. It’s honestly my favourite between the two ideas now and it’s also the only option that doesn’t result in seperating the main four girls again which I heard from the FNDM is something the CRWBY Writers might not try again. 

If the Writers are open to separating Ruby from her team for a second time in a much more dire life and death situation and just have the story revolved around her relationship and development with Oscar as our two youngest huntsmen and smaller more honest souls. If Ruby and Oscar are made to be key driver for one standalone season then YES, I’d be open to seeing something like that done given the uniqueness of the scenario.

We’ve seen Ruby with her team. We’ve seen her seperated from her team but joined with another team of friends with the thought of her reuniting with her original team never being off the table. But never have we seen Ruby completely isolated from the people and the world she once knew. Far far away without knowing whether or not she’d survived to see her loved ones again—granted that they even survived.

This is why I love the theory of Ruby and Oscar being on their own in the Salem’s Domain. I like the idea of it happening during the Fall of Atlas with neither being clear as to whether or not their friends are alive. All they knew for sure is that Atlas fell and maybe their friends are ok. Thus they cling to that hope and we watch of story of two kids on their own in a very dark world clinging desperately to hope. Hope is the only thing that’s driven them with each other being the only person they can turn to. This is why I LOVE the Ruby and Oscar Prisoners of Salem headcanon.

It’s my second favourite of the two but I love it for that potential for compelling character driven story. And what could make it even better is that it’s a condensed story. It doesn’t have to be about the writers juggling focus between more than one characters.

The story is just about seeing how Oscar and Ruby would fare on their own against impossible odds with only hope and their friendship on their side. The story, for the first time, will be just about them and thus the audience gets a chance to see how either of these two kids think and interact with each other when everyone else is out of the way. 

That could be cool to observe. But…alas, like I said, the Writers might not do this because I feel like they’re most likely to come back to what’s comfortable for them—Juggling a story with multiple characters with Team RWBY leading the charge.

Such a shame. A simple standalone story with just Ruby and Oscar with the audience joining them in being left unknowing of the fates of all the other characters so that we can feel the tension and desperation with them as we follow their story—that could’ve been great. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[sanjuno]

SI prompt: Sailor Moon?

(2/32 SI Promptfest)

One of the things that Security always mentions when you start a new job and they hand over your accessbadge is that you need to completely close the doors behind you after passingthrough. A small piece of very important,very good advice that is sadly ignored more often than not once people settleinto their positions. Unfortunately, I failed to realize my coworker’s hubrisuntil the first shots were fired.

‘Oh shit.’ Thethought formed independent of the gibbering panic and pain as the horrificallyloud set of gunshots tore me out of my chair and flung me to the ground. ‘This is a brand new suit.’

I finished bleeding out about three minutes later.

/…/

Standing naked in the void, skin glowing like a star, myshocked mind could only offer up yet another inane thought. “Telling my motherthat I wanted my ashes turned into a diamond and mounted on a sword for my heirto wield as they avenge my death because I only intended to die when I waskilled was supposed to be a joke not aprophecy!”

“Too bad. Find comfort in the fact that your last wishes will be carriedout as you intended.” The human-shaped figure stepping out of theaether was a familiar stranger, their expression both sympathetic and uncaring.

“… Honored Janus.” Was I supposed to bow? Offer a handshake?How exactly were the dead supposed to greet a Roman God of duality and change?“I gotta say you’re not who I wasexpecting to run into roundabout now.”

“Who better than I to meet with one who so accepted the necessity ofchange, of growth and balance? Yours may not have been a grand story, but itwas a true one, and in the telling of it you have encouraged many changes.”The god of beginnings and endings grinned at me with one side of his face andfrowned with the other. No wonder the sculptors always put two faces on hisstatues. I would not want to be thecarver responsible for recreating that expression. Complicated was a bit of anunderstatement. “I find this useful for my purpose. Enjoy your new beginning, child ofthe Eclipse, Warrior of Dawn and Dusk.”

“… Eh?” I was the mostconfused. Was there supposed to be an explanation somewhere in there? “Wait,what the heeeee-olyshitwhatthefuck!”

Glitter. Glitter everywhere.Mixed with glowing bubbles and fireworks and no, really, what the fuck?

/…/

So.

Reincarnation was a thing. That actually happened to people.To me, specifically, in this case. If anyone was wondering.

It took awhile for my memories to come back, after I wasreborn. Which was actually a good thing because I needed those first few yearsto absorb a new first language. The confusion generated when I was six and myEnglish resurfaced was only funny in retrospect. At the time it was justfrustrating and slightly embarrassing.

Although once the initial assimilation was over with it wasnice to be able to code switch between English and Japanese. Almost like aconsolation prize for my new lease on life. Whee.

Oh, also I was a boy now. My eyes were still grayish-blue,my hair was still a dark ashy blond, but I was also Japanese and male. It wasan interesting mix of old and newfeatures coming together to make ‘me’.

… Probably Janus’ fault, now that I think of it. Good thingI never put any stock in gender or sex. Yay for the unexpected benefits ofbeing Ace-spectrum!

Nah, the gender reassignment was nothing. What reallybothered me was that I was the youngersibling. It was odd and wrong and upset the universal balance of what Iknew to be true. I could handle the educational pressure of being a ‘childgenius’. I could handle the overbearing social reinforcement of gender roles. Icould even handle the loss of everything I had once known and everyone I onceloved. (Granted, I did this by compartmentalizing and being slightlyemotionally stunted, but what works, works.)

I could not handle someone trying to ‘big sister’ me.

Thankfully, my new sister was… a flake. A ditz. A completeand total dunce. I loved her dearly and I would tear out the tongues of anyonewho spoke badly of her, but she had almost no academic intelligence at all.

I had expected it, really. After all, just because I wasreborn was never going to change such a fundamental part of her character. Heremotional and interpersonal intelligence was still off the charts, and hercharisma was frankly ludicrous. I still had a hard time accepting anyone who had proof positive of theirown ignorance not taking steps tocorrect it.

It was not like I wanted perfect grades from her. I justwanted enough effort put in to achieve competence.There was a difference between ‘I cannotdo this’ and ‘I will not do this’.Saying no once you have proved that you cando something is fine, but saying no without even trying sticks in my craw something fierce.

Knowing that a failed test paper plays a big part in Fate’sfuture machinations for my sister was also upsetting. Would pushing my sisterto study ruin the future? Would she still meet the people she needed to, stillmake the connections that allowed her to survive and win, even after all mymeddling?

I had no way of knowing. I could only trust that her Destinywould come for her. No matter what I did, or how many random first encounters Ineeded to contrive to bring it about.

“Shingo! Are you ready to go yet?” A voice I had beenfamiliar with long before my reincarnation called for me before my sister pokedher head into my room. “Come on,Shingo! I didn’t melt my brain studying all month just for you to flake out! I earned this shopping trip and youpromised to come with me!”

“Ehh, don’t pull out your hairbuns, Usagi.” Grabbing mysatchel off the back of my desk chair, I grinned at the future Queen of theWorld and winked. “Being this perfect takes work, you know?”

“Shingooo.” The eleven-year-old girl who was going to savethe world rolled her eyes at me and pouted. “Why are you like this?”

“Because not being me would be boring.” I stuck my nose up in the air with as much pomp as I wascapable of in a seven-year-old body. “Now let’s go! If we play this right Mamawill finally cave and get us the bedazzling gun so we can ‘enhance ourcreativity and encourage mental flexibility’.”

“Okay!” Usagi giggled, happily taking my offered hand andswinging our joined arms as we headed down the stairs. “Do you think we canconvince Mama to let me get my ears pierced too?”

“Eh, maybe.” I thought about the refractive properties ofcrystals and energy resonance as I glanced at my sister. The Imperium SilverCrystal, the Shintennou’s stones, Hearts Crystals, Star Seeds… crystals weregame changers in this world. Powerful ones. Tagging Usagi with a set that mostenemies would overlook… yeah. That was a good idea. Good job, self, excellentplan. I nodded. “I want my ears pierced too. We have an undeniable right tofreedom of self expression so long as we do so in a safe and healthy manner.”

Usagi stared blankly at me for a moment, nose scrunched upabove pursed lips. “You know I don’t understand you when you talk like that.”

“As long as you know what the words mean you’ll figure outhow they go together eventually, Bun-bun.” Cheerfully unrepentant, I hauled mysister down the last stair. “Onwards! To victory and glory everlasting!”

/…/

Ignoring the dull throb in my earlobes, I admired the hoopsI had chosen. Simple, elegant, unlikely to fall out unnoticed, and large enoughto hold three gemstone beads. For myself I had convinced my mother to buy blacktourmaline, lepidolite, and lapis lazuli. For Usagi I had picked outlabradorite, selenite, and rose quartz. Not expensive stones, but powerful onesfor the way their energies intersected and channeled power. Especially once Iwas done priming them as foci.

Abalone shell bowls with small, upwards facing mirrors atthe bottom. A little water in the bowls, add some salt, and then four undyedcandles in a circle, burning on the windowsill under the full moon. I watchedthe moonlight slowly gather in the stones, the smoke from the candles pulleddown into the water. Within moments of moonrise, each bead started to glitterand shine more brightly than nature intended.

Satisfied that it was working, I turned back to the blade inmy hand. It had appeared on my bed soon after my memories finished returning.It was ferociously sharp, and lighter in my hand than anything that size andmade of metal should be. The hilt was too big for my seven-year-old self to wieldeffectively, but the sword was perfectly proportioned for my old adult height. Carvedinto the blade was ancient Latin that named the sword VERITAS.

“Beware the truth, for it is a double-edged sword, whichcuts both ways.” I smiled, wiping the blade down to remove the excess oil. Itwas a magical blade, and probably did not need sharpening, but… better safethan brainwashed. “I do love a good pun.”

The milky diamond in the hilt flashed in the light, glowinglike a lantern in my dim bedroom. It was hard to look at the sword sometimes,especially since I knew what it meant. I was magic, the sword was magic, mysister was the fucking Queen of magicfor the entire damn solar system. It was still hard to look at my funeral stone,knowing that the diamond was formedfrom my ashes, and not feel cheated.

Violent deaths always leave something unfinished. I wondersometimes, now that I have experienced that incompleteness for myself, how muchof this resentment the Senshi felt after they knew of their past lives… and ofthe way the Moon Kingdom fell. At least, when the time came, I would be able tohelp Usagi deal with Serenity’s unfinished business.

“Sing, o muse! Of love everlasting!” I saluted the moonsolemnly before I fed the blade and sheathed it, shrinking it down to a pen andtucking it away. “Sing, o muse! As the old tale is told anew!”

Nothing and nobody would be allowed to stand in my way. Mysister was going to get her happy ending this time, and any assholes who triedto interfere with that were getting a death-sword to the face.