#thought I might as well add some sources in case anyone was curious

[umbrellacam]

Tim actually didn't move to Bristol, and specifically next door to Wayne Manor, until after he became Robin and his dad woke up from his coma. It was suggested by Alfred as a way for Tim to continue secretly being Robin, and fun fact, a secret tunnel was built under a cistern in the Drakes' cellar all the way to the Batcave to further enable his vigilante career c:

As far as we've been told, Tim grew up in various apartments/condos that the Drakes owned mostly on Gotham City island proper, and Jack didn't even want to move out of the city but had to be persuaded (links on Tim's childhood living situations: (1) and (2))

(also Steph is from the suburbs on the mainland, not Gotham City Island (or Crime Alley).)

There's not a single thing you could say to convince me that Bruce and Tim are gothamites. Look at this fucking map

Bristol is so far removed from the heart of Gotham that there's quite literally no way it shares many, if any, cultural traits with Gotham. That's not even counting the insane wealth disparity that makes the ways of life (and therefore culture and habits and dialects and food) completely incomparable. Tim and Bruce aren't gothamites, they're Bristol brats, and I fully believe nobody in Gotham would accept them calling themselves gothamites. Especially with the size of the Wayne Estate.

[oloreandil]

i've been having random thoughts about death note happening in more recent years, with social media as a widespread method of communication and identification

doxxing / finding names and pictures online is so easy right now, Light getting the power of the eyes would only really hinge on finding out L's name. the few criminals whose identity can't easily be found online would matter to him even less compared to the loss of half your years

i still think Misa would take them for the convenience and romantic appeal of immediate deathly powers (by the way. taking the eyes again steals half your life AGAIN. Light pointedly would not stop her, especially since people's internet presence would have wildly changed already)

rigidly pseudonymous identities outside of your trusted circle would become the norm in my opinion, with web extensions to hide your ID in all previous posts mentioning you, and counter extensions to show them again (popularised by pro-Kira blogs who want to engage in doxxing). i can very well see discourse around "what do you need to hide :/ I'm a publicly law abiding citizen which is why I don't care that my name is out there" as it is literally a "counter argument" in the conversation around privacy laws right now

there would be lots of forum threads on finding out how Kira kills in the same way we have massive discussions around fan theories, and the sheer amount of ideas and brainpower usually leads somewhere, but it's also gonna lead to burying less popular theories regardless of how correct they could be. L and the Task force (and then, Mello and the SPK) would have to sort through thousands of reposts of the same popular arguments

callout culture would be absolutely horrible, too. people would 100% make up fake crimes so Kira would punish someone they don't like, even though i don't think Light would take the Minoru approach of asking people for information. he doesn't trust anyone else to do it properly, but can't get proper sources at first and i'm sure innocent people would get caught in his net. i wonder how that'd reflect on Kira, if people would start to question his god-like powers because of poor media literacy or if people would turn against those who tricked Kira and "tarnished god's hands" or something

those would all be fantastic tools for L, though. fake articles published by real news sources using his influence, but with various kinds of ID available on each criminal so he can pick up which are actually relevant. a variant of his "only in Tokyo" news report but on social media, to see where Kira might have an account and follow that trail. fake profiles of real people to see if Kira would kill them instead of the Lind L Tailor murder on TV. i don't think he'd show his face nearly as quick as he did in the manga, if at all, and he'd definitely never go to uni with Light in case someone gets a picture (or he'd have to do massive damage control to remove every instance of his face posted online, with added pressure after the appearance of the second Kira). i think he'd probably only show his face to the task force or Light when his suspicions are so strong he kidnaps Light and Misa

social media would be banned from the Task Force HQ but it'd be way harder to erase their social presence, especially Aizawa (his wife posts about their family life) and Matsuda (previously very active). that would be one more reason to make them resign from the NPA sooner. reposts of old articles start to appear when people notice that a large part of the Task Force has been wiped from police records - the list of police Kira investigators could have leaked, putting further pressure on them to quit as the pro-Kira crowd massively doxxes them

i'll probably add more to this at some point and i'm really curious if other people wanna share their ideas !

[ocegion]

Nile is sitting on one of the couches of the safehouse, legs crossed and eyes on her screen as she lazily navigates youtube, when she hears an app notification loudly popping up a few feet away from her. She blinks a few times and looks up at its source.

Joe and Nicky are on the couch across from her, half-lying on each other as each of them reads their own book. Now, however, Nicky is grasping at his phone, slight grimace on his face as he looks at it, then exchanges a look with Joe, who sports a similar expression. A moment later they nod at each other and Nicky sweeps his thumb across the screen.

Their heads come together as they both focus on the screen, a certain degree of curious apprehension on their faces. They stay like that for a moment, then Nicky’s grimace comes back stronger than before as he tosses the phone to the edge of the couch. Joe just huffs, eyes narrowed, and his hand flies to Nicky’s head, gently massaging his scalp as he pulls the man closer.

It’s a few moments before either of them take notice of Nile’s fixed gaze. Joe looks curious, relaxing his hold on his partner a bit as he shifts his attention.

‘Is something the matter, Nile? You need anything?’

Nile now realizes she’s been staring, and quickly breaks her eyes away for a single moment before coming back, now with a teasing, somewhat incredulous grin on her lips.

‘I had gay friends back in Chicago, you know’ she comments easily. Nicky frowns in confusion.

‘You have gay friends now. We’re right here.’

‘I know, I know, not saying otherwise. Just… Some things are familiar.’ Neither of them seem to have a clue what she’s getting at, if their deepening frown is anything to go by. Nile’s amusement grows exponentially. ‘All I’m saying is, I know what a grindr notification sounds like.’

In the five months she’s been part of the team, Nile has barely ever seen Nicky show the slightest indication of nerves, let alone flustered. He’s about as impassible as a marble statue, but without the hard coldness to it. Now, however, she’s seeing with her own two eyes how a deep red quickly takes hold of his cheeks in the few seconds it takes for him to fully register what she’s said and hastily look down. He unconsciously leans towards Joe, who isn’t flustered, per se, but for once in his life seems to be not immediately sure what to say, mouth opening to start saying something, only to repeatedly decide to change his wording, then just shutting up with his lips turned a thin line.

‘What the hell is a green deer?’ Andy asks from the other corner of the room, where she’s taken off her headphones to pay attention to the current commotion. Nile brings her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh when Nicky groans in response.

‘Nothing important’ Joe grumbles lowly. Andy’s eyebrow rises, an equally amused and bemused expression hinting on her face, but she merely shrugs and puts her headphones back on. Nile can hear the music from here, and she’s going to have to remind her again that no healing means she can, in fact, go deaf if she keeps doing that.

For the time being, though…

‘Grindr’ she repeats, a delighted tone to her voice. The word seems to be some sort of spell that makes the both of them shrink on themselves, and she supposes it’s a bit mean, but they have behaved like the dignified, nearly-mystic millenium-old warriors they are every moment Nile has shared with them. She’s not going to let the chance to see them embarrassed pass so quickly.

‘There’s no shame in it, you know’ she says, and she means it. But she’ll admit that she says it knowing it’ll make Joe groan softly as he hides his face in his hands, and Nicky petulantly crosses his arms while pointedly looking away. ‘I mean it! I’m not going to judge you for your… Pastimes.’

‘This isn’t- This is not-’ Nicky stutters, brighter red if it’s even possible, and Nile is going to commit that look to memory because who knows when it’s going to come back. He wildly gestures with his hands, as if trying to grasp the words.

‘We were just curious, is all’ Joe supplies in a low but hasty mumble, nearly pouting and looking anywhere but at her. She raises her eyebrow.

‘I’d say you two are a bit late to be curious about this sort of thing. I doubt there’s anything you’ve got left to learn about this stuff. Well, being vanilla is okay in any case, even if it’s for a thousand years. Whatever suits you.’

Nicky stares at her, and opens his mouth to say something only to stop himself at the last second. He takes a long moment and in the end he settles, calmly, for ‘We were at a bar the other day, and we heard that grindr is the new space for gay men. We just wanted to check it out, keep up with the times.’

‘It wasn’t exactly what we expected it to be’ Joe adds, dryly. Nile takes a moment to stop herself from bursting into laughter. God, right now she really wishes social media wasn’t off limits to her, this is comedy gold.

She rises to her feet and throws herself at the other couch in between them. Joe and Nicky automatically make space for her, but they stretch their arms behind the couch to hold hands. They look at her curiously and she grins while she makes a beckoning gesture to Nicky.

‘Let me see.’

‘Nile!’ he nearly shrieks, half-scandalized. Nile is reminded that despite looking like he’s on the flower of life, at the point where maturity hasn’t started chipping away at youthful vigor, he is, after all, a grandpa older than most countries he steps into. Unfazed by this, she gives him a look that has him begrudgingly handling her his phone while muttering something under his breath.

Despite their complains, they seem very interested in whatever she’s going to do, both of their heads touching hers as they look at the device in her hands. She can’t help but be endeared by Nicky’s phone: His wallpaper is a pic of Joe sleeping (she’s willing to bet her next 30 lives that the opposite is true for Joe’s phone), and beside a sudoku app, the phone is pretty much barren. Except for grindr.

‘You should expect some, uh, unsavory things in there’ Joe mutters, somewhat apprehensive. Nile gives him an unimpressed look.

‘I’m not a child, Joe, no matter how many times you all say it. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen more than you had at my age.’

However, she goes directly to their profile. It’s the only thing that holds her curiosity, really, everything else has a very low chance of being anything she hasn’t already seen in her other friends’ phones. It is adorably innocent, considering what they knew about the app. It’s got a selfie of the two of them with Joe kissing Nicky’s cheek, another selfie of Joe at the beach with that backwards cap of his and sunglasses, and then a third one of Nicky reading, which she’s pretty sure Joe took while he wasn’t aware of it.

The profile is pretty much empty otherwise. The description is a mere ‘curious couple’, which, again, is adorably innocent considering she knows who they are. Not so much to anyone else, though.

Just in that moment, just as she’s about to check the chats just to drag the experience out, the phone rings with a new message. She opens it and-

‘Wow’ she says as she drops the phone, and you know what, she had forgotten the part about just how forward some guys could be. Had repressed it, most likely.

‘I know’ Nicky wails, picking up the phone and putting it at a safe distance. ‘We’ve gotten so many of those. And people who call Joe ‘daddy’. And asking about our, huh, positions. We keep expecting something a bit more… Mild. Just friendly. But no luck.’

‘We tried to start a few conversations, with some of the more, umm, dressed guys’ Joe continues, voice conveying a deep desolation within his soul. ‘It never goes over five minutes before they ask us if we want… Well. I’m not going to repeat it.’

Nile is, once more, struggling to keep the laughter inside herself. The sulky look they both give her has the laugh finally escaping her. ‘You are two attractive, young-looking men’ she says once she’s got her air back. ‘Of course guys are going to be interested. I think at this point you’ve figured out what guys are looking for in here.’

There is a brief silence. ‘Don’t get us wrong, it’s great there’s enough freedom for this… Thing, to exist’ Nicky says, more serene than he’d been a handful minutes ago. ‘It would have been unthinkable a handful decades ago in a country like this. It’s just not what we were expecting.’

‘It used to be about romance’ Joe adds, still somewhat sulky and looking at the phone like it had personally insulted him. ‘There used to be seduction, yearning, poetry. Courtship has changed a lot since we were young, we know, but this just skips it altogether. It’s lacking in taste, is all.’

Nile could repeat what the app was for and that there were other places they might find something more suitable to their tastes, but another, far more important thought crashes into her mind. She smirks.

‘You know I’m going to have to notify Copley about this, right?’

They both look like they’ve seen a ghost. ‘You absolutely don’t’ Nicky mutters, pale.

‘I absolutely do. No social media at all, remember?’

‘We were going to delete it anyway’ Joe begs. ‘We’ll do it right now in front of you.’

Nile pretends to think about it for about five seconds. ‘But what if someone has saved those pics of you?’

The look of dispair on their faces intensifies. ‘They can do that?’

Nile has no option but to roll onto the floor as she laughs harder than she has in a whole year.

[apiratewhopines]

In the Offing

Summary: AU - Storybrooke - Emma Swan is drafted to help Liam Jones clear his brother’s name in the disappearance of a former flame. As she digs deeper into the rash of missing person cases, she risks losing more than just her heart as she uncovers the truth.

Chapter One - Pilot

Summary: In which our heroine embarks on an adventure

“Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass

Til the road and sky align”

-Angela, The Lumineers

If asked, Emma Swan would land firmly in the ‘It was a dark and stormy night’ camp rather than the ‘Once Upon a Time’ one.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in happiness and true love and good triumphing over evil. She did. Or at least she tried to believe in them, which was nearly the same thing.

It was just that in her experience, relationships were more likely to end in indifference and divergent roads at best or disappointment, deceit and violence at their worst. It rarely ended in laughter over the dinner table, surrounded by the people you loved and admired. In fact, it never ended that way for her. And she was fine with that. Or at least she tried to believe she was, which was not nearly the same thing.

So it was without the slightest bit of surprise that she made her way back to her office from yet another honey trap date, her third this week if anyone was keeping track. She didn’t anymore, had stopped wondering years ago how there were so many cheating spouses and deadbeat dads and none too bright criminals in one city. Nor did she have the energy to wonder why she found her doorway blocked by the broad form of her sometimes collaborator, sometimes competitor, always annoying quasi-neighbor.

“What do you want, Liam? I’m not staying. I’m only dropping off paperwork so I can go home and mourn the loss of human decency uninterrupted.”

“Perhaps a bath would be more helpful, lass. You smell like a walking distillery,” he replied, not bothered by her unfriendly tone and refusal to meet his eyes as she elbowed him out of the way and unlocked the door. “Were you drowning your sorrows or were they drowning you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I caught the guy who did this and he smells like jail now so I would say I won,” she muttered, bristling only a little bit when he followed her inside. She would like to say that she and Liam had a complicated relationship but the truth was they tolerated each other when they had to and avoided each other when they didn’t. She could count on him to be professional, which unfortunately was not a given in their line of work, and his complete disinterest in her as a person was a quality she appreciated, having never been someone who craved attention or willingly engaged in small talk.

Now that she thought about it, he was probably one of the better connections she had made in Boston. If his self-righteous, holier-than-thou attitude chafed at times...well, no one was perfect. She had met him when her boss moved their bail bonds office operations to their current location and with his private investigation business occupying the suite next door, they would throw work each other’s way when it made sense. Despite knowing him for nearly two years, she would be hard-pressed to recall a single interaction after hours or off the job so even though she was tired and her feet were killing her from running down tonight’s skip in stiletto heels, she was a little curious about why he was there. “Barry isn’t here.”

“If I was looking for Barry, this is the last place I would be.”

She snorted as she dropped off a packet of reports on the nearest desk. The truth was that her boss, who also happened to own the business, was probably cruising off the coast of Florida at that very moment and hadn’t stepped foot in the office since they moved. But she considered absenteeism a great quality in a boss so she wasn’t complaining.

Sighing, she turned around to face him. She leaned against the desk behind her and hoped he didn’t notice her flexing her feet in an attempt to keep them from cramping. “As nice as it is to catch up, I’ve had a long night. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Henry mentioned that he was going to spend the summer with his father when he came by last week,” Liam stated as if that explained everything. Henry’s capacity to make friends never ceased to astound her and was definitely a characteristic he inherited from Neal. Even curmudgeonly Liam Jones had fallen victim to her kid’s ability to engage with anyone. Little did her visitor suspect that reminding her that she had nearly eight weeks of going home to an empty apartment was not the best way for him to start a conversation.

It had been with great trepidation that she had agreed to the trip at all. After years of fielding her son’s questions about his father, she used her considerable tracking skills to finally run her ex to ground about eighteen months ago. Enough time had passed for her to forgive him, although she doubted she would ever forget, but she felt she owed Henry the chance to at least meet his father. And of course, they had hit it off as she had both hoped for and feared.

She had worried, apparently needlessly so, that Neal would quickly lose interest in the son he hadn’t know existed and was inconveniently located in a different state. However, the man who had no issues with abandoning her a decade ago had surprised her. He called Henry every day and made the trip at least once a month to visit. He had shown up and supported Henry in ways she hadn’t expected and it reminded her that not all the times had been bad and maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a villain. When Neal had approached her about a long distance trip that spanned their son’s entire summer break, her first reaction was to forbid it but she knew Henry needed it. Although she would never admit it to Neal, she had also appreciated that he had brought it up with her first rather than sending Henry to talk her into it.

Still, it had physically hurt her to see them walking away together at the airport yesterday, similar gaits and probably with matching, wide smiles on their faces.

Now her interaction with her son would be reduced to a couple of texts a day and FaceTime calls a few times a week while Henry had the time of his life gallivanting around California with his father and future stepmother. In a flash, she went from tired and curious to tired and pissed. “Right. Glad you reminded me before I made it home and called the police about a kidnapping. Did you need something, Liam, or are you just trying to bother me?”

“Both. Obviously,” he said dryly.

“Great, he’s got jokes,” she groaned as she threw her head back in frustration. “I should warn you that I’ve already punched one jerk tonight. I’m hungry and exhausted and if you don’t get on with it, I’m not afraid to add another one to the list.”

He sighed and for the first time she noticed the tenseness in the way he was holding himself. Whatever the reason for his visit, it obviously had him wound up pretty tightly. Against her better judgement, she felt her curiosity stirring again.

“Fine, since you’re obviously not fit to be out in public,” he said with a vague gesture toward her whiskey-flavored dress, “order some delivery and let’s talk.”

—

The smell of cheese did a lot to restore her good humor. She watched him from under her lashes as he looked at the meat-lovers pizza with what approached horror in his expression. She never pegged him as a health food nut, although she could tell he took care of himself, so maybe what offended him was the grease that had soaked through the box to the papers that were stacked neatly on his desk. Tearing off a large slice, she hummed happily while she took the first scorching bite.

“I need a favor,” he stated without preamble before he too took a bite and glanced at her with a pained look in his eye.

She was pretty sure that this was the first time he had ever uttered those words in his life and that was probably the source of his discomfort rather than the molten lava cheese he just swallowed. She tried not to show any interest even though hundreds of questions wanted to escape her mouth. She wanted to ask when they started doing favors for each other and why he was acting like a caged animal. Instead, she settled for something that he would probably find a bit more in character considering their past interactions. “Would this be the type of favor that involved payment of some sort?”

“It will, if that gets the job done quicker,” Liam answered, staring intently at his half eaten slice.

“Well, that would depend on if we’re talking about an hourly rate or a flat fee,” she joked. “I have typically found that payment is the best way to insure a job gets done.”

Something was definitely bothering him and damn if that didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and chase a shiver down her spine. With a hint of disgust she threw her uneaten crust down on her plate. She already knew that whatever he was about to ask, she was going to agree to so she continued, “Might as well spit it out, I would like to go home and get some sleep sometime this century. What kind of favor do you need?

“The kind of favor that involves going away for a couple of weeks and solving a cold case.”

Of all the things she thought he was going to ask, actual work didn’t even make the top ten list so she was a little letdown. His discomfort had her prepared for anything from being a date to an ex’s wedding to a surprise twist of being asked to babysit his previously unknown kids. Even a mundane request to water his plants while he was on vacation would have been more interesting. She wasn’t entirely sure Liam was human and it would have been fascinating to see the lair he crawled back to when he wasn’t in the office.

“Why the cloak and dagger routine? You made me think something was horribly wrong,” she huffed. Picking up another slice, she thoughtfully examined his face. There was more to this request but she was afraid she was going to have to drag it out of him based on his body language. His eyes were shuttered, shoulders hunched in on himself, body twisted slightly to the side as if he had decided this was a mistake and he was on the verge of running out of the room. While she would dearly love to see Liam Jones run away from his problems like a mere mortal, she was clearly already too invested to let that happen. Quickly swiping her fingers across a napkin to rid them of the worst of the grease, she gently laid her hand on his forearm to hold him in place. “Whatever you need to say, it will go no further.”

Apparently those were the magic words to unlock whatever secret he thought he needed to keep because with a sharp intake of breath, he started his tale. “There is a town in Maine...”

—

Hours later, he was dropping her off at the entrance to her building with a promise to pick her up at six o’clock the following evening. She wasn’t crazy about starting out that late or the fact that they would hit the tail end of rush hour traffic but her mind was swimming with too many details to make her normal fuss. Honestly, she would need all the time she could get to go through the files stuffed in the briefcase he passed off to her as she emerged from the car.

Without registering the journey upstairs, she found herself opening the door to her apartment and immediately kicked off her heels with a moan while her toes curled a little to celebrate their freedom. Her dress had climbed up her thighs a bit during the car ride but she had a feeling she was the only one who noticed. She was pretty sure she could have been naked and Liam wouldn’t have paid any attention. He was just that kind of guy. Considering they were about to embark on a trip to his former hometown where they may end up having to give the impression of a relationship, she should probably be grateful that his only attraction to her seemed to be limited to her ability to find people and her reputation for being a spookily accurate human lie detector. For her part, all she wanted from him was a couple weeks of distraction from what was surely going to turn out to be a lonely summer. If she was getting paid for it, all the better.

Leaving her shoes where they fell in the entranceway, she grabbed a hair band from the narrow table that she privately thought of as their crap collector. She had never been the neatest person and she had passed that trait on to Henry so you could never predict what random stuff would be found on the table that served no other purpose than to be a catch all for the things they discarded when they arrived home.

Styling her long blonde hair into a messy bun, she pulled her ruined dress over her head and casually threw it in the direction of the laundry basket. Taking advantage of the fact that there wasn’t a ten-year-old at home that would be traumatized by her behavior, she lugged the briefcase to the kitchen island and spread the files across the countertop before walking back to her closet to slip into a pair of black yoga pants and a Red Sox tank top, not wanting to take the time to shower at the moment. Besides, she was the only one home to know how bad the smell of whiskey and sweat was after sitting for hours in a small office, stuffing her face with the unhealthiest pizza on the planet and getting drawn into the web of mystery that had made the always serious Mr. Jones even more somber.

Pouring a glass of wine, she climbed up on one of stools that formed a line that ran the length of the counter and pulled the top file to her. The photo paper-clipped to the inside showed a rundown pawn shop that might as well have had a neon sign flashing ‘Shady Place of Business.’ Below it was a list of names from various missing persons cases spanning thirty years.

Taking the first sip of wine, she murmured, “What have you gotten me into, Liam?”

She spent the next several hours combing through the files until her back hurt and her contacts felt scratchy in her eyes. It seemed like Jones Investigation had a file for everyone that lived in the town at the time of the burglary as well as newspaper clipping from the various investigations into the suspicious disappearance of citizens.

It was too much information to take in during the course of one night but Liam had been insistent that the files remain in Boston. He didn’t want to risk tipping off any suspects to the real reason for their trip should the paperwork be discovered. So, under direct orders from the former British Naval officer to memorize the facts, when she reached the end of the files, she would start over again. She sorted and resorted the files into stacks based on a variety of factors from chronological order to some distinguishing characteristic like age, proximity to crime, or possible motive.

If her attention kept wondering back to the grainy photo of one Killian Jones, brother of her dour compatriot, she blamed the wine and lack of sleep. Even the low quality of the picture couldn’t conceal that the younger Jones brother was an incredibly attractive man. However, he looked enough like Liam to make her interest unsettling and that was what finally pulled her away from her research and drove her to bed where she dreamed of blue eyes and a wicked smile.

—

For most of the trip, the only sound was of the sports commentators who nearly shouted out a play-by-play of a soccer match Liam had politely asked to listen to as they pulled out of her parking garage. The only other break in their silent commute was the subtle hum and thump of road noise occasionally making its way into the cabin. He had been unimpressed with her offer to take her car, not even bothering to acknowledge her when she suggested it and simply opening the lift gate to the large, dark colored Honda Pilot he had rented. If he noticed her surprise at finding several bags already in the truck and heard her sarcastic observation about packing light as she had to reposition some of his luggage to find a spot for her single gym sized duffel bag, he didn’t show it.

As she had predicted, they spent an hour stuck in traffic before getting beyond the city limits where the cars spread out and their follow drivers seemed to think that allowed them to indulge in NASCAR fantasies. She used the quiet to mentally go over the particulars of the case before them, secure in the knowledge that unless she magically sprouted another head Liam was unlikely to start up a conversation at this point in the trip.

Fact One: Leo and Ava Blanchard left for a date night and never returned home to their young daughter. There car was found broken down on the side of the road about a mile from their home. No sign of foul play, no trace of their whereabouts.

Fact Two: Shortly thereafter, there was a burglary at Gold’s Pawnshop on Main Street. No sign of forced entry and the owner claimed nothing had been stolen, but the alarm had been tripped from the inside. Having nothing to go on and with no stolen items to track down, the local law enforcement devoted a total of five minutes to the case. Basically as soon as the report was filed, the case was closed and life moved on.

Fact Three: Robert Nolan had a few too many at a bar one night, which apparently was a reoccurring circumstance, and never found his way back to his family. He was rumored to be involved in some illicit activities but no proof of a crime was ever found.

Fact Four: There appeared to be a bit of a lull for more than a decade and then a rapid secession of missing person reports: Regina Mills, Peter Wolfe, and finally Milah Gold.

It was the last one that seemed to drive Liam’s interest in the cases. Although he and his brother hadn’t relocated to the US until the early 2000s, it seemed his little brother quickly formed an attachment, which Emma read between the lines to mean had an affair, with the older wife of the town’s local businessman. After his wife vanished into thin air, Mr. Gold and the local police tried their best to pin her disappearance on Killian but could never come up with enough evidence to press charges.

The final piece came through sources Liam was disinclined to name. He had recently found out that a newly arrived visitor had been asking questions around town and according to his source, the visitor was a best-selling true crime author named August Booth who happened to be weeks away from publishing a tell-all book about the sordid history of the town.

Going into full protective mode, Liam had decided the best course of action was to return to the small town and solve the mystery, or potentially multiple mysteries if they were as interconnected as he thought, thereby clearing his brother’s name beyond all doubt.

If it had been anyone else who had asked for her help, she would have been flattered but she knew Liam to be practical above all else. He valued her skills but it was probably Henry’s absence that was the catalyst for this particular partnership. He needed an extra set of eyes and ears and she was a known element who was conveniently available for a long term undercover assignment. Still, he had trusted her with the family secrets, or at least his brother’s secrets, so she was trying to be mindful this wasn’t simply another case for him.

She wasn’t convinced the non-burglary and series of disappearances he seemed to think connected would turn out to be anything but she knew better than to discard possibilities this early on. She also wasn’t convinced that parading in front of his family and friends as a girlfriend was a good game plan.

“I think we need to revisit this cover story,” she said as he pulled off the highway and into the lot of a gas station.

“If you can find a more convincing reason for me to show up with a strange woman, I will gladly listen to it,” he replied before exiting the car and fading away into the dark night.

“No, I wouldn’t like anything from the store, thanks for asking,”she called out to his back, wanting to nettle him in retaliation for his rudeness although she doubted he heard her. According to the GPS, they were only about forty-five minutes from their destination, a place called Granny’s Diner. She tried to research the town, including restaurants, venues, and things to do but it was as if Storybrooke existed out of the modern age. While you could find it on maps, there wasn’t an internet presence at all. There were no tourism sites, despite the fact that most little towns that dot the Atlantic coast were in peak season for welcoming travelers. It appeared that chains and national franchises had no interest in the sleepy town either. There were no notable residents making their marks on the world at large, no complaints on business sites, no reviews of the natural beauty to be found in its forests and parks.

The sound of Liam returning to the vehicle and pumping gas broke her train of thought. Hearing the gentle chime of her phone, she took the opportunity to check her texts before they got back on the road. Smiling a little at seeing Henry’s name on her notifications, she clicked the message and was rewarded with a silly photo of him pretending to be eaten by a shark at one of the selfie stations located on a pier in whatever seaside town they were currently visiting. She text him back a thumb’s up, following it quickly with a good night and reminder that she would send him the details of where she was staying in the morning.

Running her finger gently over her son’s happy grin in the photo, she didn’t greet Liam as he climbed back into the car.

“That’s a nice picture,” he mumbled, clicking his seatbelt in place before pulling out and rejoining the dwindling line of cars heading north. “Is he having a good time?”

“Looks like it,” she answered, turning her head away somewhat embarrassed to feel the prick of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional person but she missed the kid something fierce.

Either he was being exceptionally sensitive to her distress or he didn’t notice it because they lapsed back into silence until they were about fifteen minutes from the town line. Deciding next to the last minute was as a good a time to broach the topic again as any, she picked up on her earlier comment as if it hadn’t been over half an hour ago. “Listen, I’m not saying I have a better cover but maybe we could not volunteer the girlfriend story. You know, keep our options open unless someone asks us directly. Or maybe actually tell them we are there to investigate.”

Hope for a rational debate on the merits of her suggestions was immediately crushed when he actually started to laugh. “You’ve never lived in a small town, have you?”

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Emma, I left five years ago under some difficult circumstances—“

“What circumstances? How difficult?”

“That’s need to know, lass,” he interrupted in a tone that cautioned against any further questions. “If it had anything to do with our case, I would have already told you. Let me assure you that everyone will know of our arrival within minutes of the car entering town. There will be a description of you circulating before you wake up tomorrow morning. There is no way people aren’t going to ask us directly and repeatedly the nature of our visit and relationship.”

She was about to interrupt again so he held up a hand to stall her and added, “And if we decline to provide details, they will make them up. Trust me, it’s better to control the story than to have eyes following us everywhere trying figure it out for themselves. As far as openly investigating a crime, you’re daft if you think they won’t clam up the second you start asking questions. In my experience people are more comfortable being a gossip than a snitch. If we are simply a couple enjoying a trip down memory lane, we will be able to move much more freely.”

“But your brother,” she countered weakly because she had to admit he had a point. “How can you lie to him? Surely he can be trusted with the truth. Not to mention that if we are staying with him, he’s going to notice that we don’t like each other.”

“What are you talking about? I’m quite fond of you. You’re one of my best friends,” he said in indignation.

Her jaw went slack with shock as she tried to process how she had slipped into some bizarro alternate reality. What in their past could possibly have given him the idea that they were friends, besties even. “I don’t know what—“ she sputtered. “Is this some weird British thing?”

He barked out a laugh that was so unlike him that she doubled down on her alternate reality theory. “Calm down, Emma. It was a joke. We aren’t friends exactly but I don’t dislike you. It will be fine. Pretend I’m one of your fake dates for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, I’m an old-fashioned guy. Killian won’t think anything of us bunking separately.”

“There is old-fashioned and then there is being a monk, Liam. But whatever. I still think you should trust your brother. Especially since it’s his neck we’re trying to save.”

“I would trust him with my life. What I can’t trust is that he won’t go off half-cocked and muck up the investigation. He’ll understand why I did this as long as we get results.”

She believed that he believed what he was saying. She also believed he was wrong. As a person who always preferred the truth, no matter how painful, her gut told her that it would be a mistake to keep the younger Jones in the dark about the true purpose of their trip. However, besties or not, she knew the mulish tilt to Liam’s mouth indicated that for him the discussion was over.

At that moment, the high beams illuminated the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. She felt an ominous dread settle over her as they approached, turning in her seat to look at the sign as they passed.

It was the last thing she saw before the world exploded in glass shards, twisted metal, and smoke.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Patio Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

MC: It’s finally over!

I stretch, basking in the warm afternoon sunlight. 

MC: The air-conditioning in the meeting room was so strong. I almost sneezed...

Victor: That’s why you held your breath till your face turned red?

MC: I did not...

I want to retort, but both our phones vibrate at the same time. 

Curious, I tap and open the message. The sender is Ronan. The beginning of the message reads: “Inviting Mr Victor and Miss MC...”

[Note: If you don't know who Ronan is, check out Victor’s Understanding the Human World date before continuing]

Victor: To attend an appointment on the sky garden of the CR Building, a subsidiary company of LFG, after three days, at 7pm.

Victor softly reads the bottom half of the message aloud - he has received the same message.

MC: I remember that Ronan invited internationally renowned architects to build the film sets for his new movie. It should be this sky garden then? Since he has invited us, could it have something to do with the new movie? 

Victor: We’ll know when we get there.

He looks at the phone in his hand indifferently. Despite his expression, it seems he already has an answer. 

-

Three days later.

Victor and I reach the CR Building punctually. 

Ronan: The two of you are here. Come, the movie preview is on the top floor. 

Without much idle chat, we exchange greetings, and he enthusiastically leads us to the elevator. 

MC: The shoot has already been completed? That’s pretty fast. 

Ronan: Mm, the shoot this time went really smoothly. Whether in the capacity of a friend, or the biggest investor, I want the both of you to be the first few to see my movie. 

MC: Why did I receive an invitation too...

Hearing my soft confusion, Ronan laughs loudly while he responds.

Ronan: When we were shooting Dévotion, it was only because of your cooperation that I could shoot a romantic and poetic Chinese wedding. Also, the movie this time was largely inspired by the two of you, so inviting you is definitely reasonable. For example, Victor revealed that, to him, you are actually...

Victor: Often impudent, and require improvement in time management. But once you slow down, your work capabilities have indeed improved quite a bit.

MC: ...why do I feel like what you told Ronan had nothing to do with my work capabilities. 

I arch my eyebrows, not wanting to show signs of weakness. I toss a grimace towards Victor.

Before phrases in my mind such as “a woman’s instincts are very accurate” leave my mouth, Ronan starts laughing as he watches us from the side.

Ding--

Along with a soft ring, the elevator halts steadily at the highest level of the building. The exquisite sky garden greets my vision as the elevator doors open slowly. 

Green trees display their leaves on mid-air platforms, and flowers of differing colours are scattered around, decorating the area.

The course of a river is guided by steel, flowing into a waterfall, gathering into a river,  and slowly flowing around the trees and flowers.

Victor: The movie preview will start in ten minutes. How much longer do you plan to dillydally? 

As though he isn’t drawn to the view at all, Victor simply holds his hand out in front of me. 

MC: Yes, yes. As expected of the Mr CEO who has seen the big world - displaying an unchanging expression even after seeing such a view.

I hold onto his hand readily, and subtly lean against his side a little more.

The corners of Victor’s lips seem to curl upwards slightly. He accommodates to my footsteps, and we head to the venue together. 

-

The movie preview is extremely successful. 

Summarising the legend of the sky garden, Ronan illustrated a story of the male lead’s struggle at the end of the world, looking for an oasis. 

And the climax of the story occurred at this very sky garden--

Lights and shadows merged with drifting flower petals, the last green leaf, and the last water source at the very end of the world...

Apart from the excellent narrative, the visual effects from the film alone gives one unparalleled enjoyment. 

After the movie ends, I can’t help but give a standing ovation. 

A few members of the audience, who were immersed in the movie like I was, send their cheers to the directors and actors. 

MC: As expected of Ronan’s movie - it’s really brilliant.

Victor: Mm. It’s his usual standard. 

Although Victor says this, he isn’t stingy with his applause. 

MC: There’s a really immersive feeling knowing that we’re in the most beautiful scene of the movie...

Victor: Let’s go then.

Right after the words land, my palm is already encased in warmth. 

Victor: To look at the garden you’ve been thinking about in your heart since just now. 

MC: Okay! It’s a rare opportunity to walk into the beautiful scenery crafted by world-class directors and architects. If we don’t take a proper look, it’d be such a pity.

Victor: In that case, follow me and don’t let go of my hand again. 

MC: Anyway, no matter where I am, you’ll always find me in the end. I won’t get lost. 

We stand up, and I smile while holding onto his hand tightly. 

He lets out a soft laugh. Maybe it’s my misperception, but the night seems to become gentler along with him.

I hear the sound of gurgling water in my ears, and red corn poppies bloom among the shadows of trees.

My fingers brush against the tips of bushes, and I feel the branches carrying the coolness of night. 

MC: Sigh... it’s a shame that this place would be torn down after a while. And it’s such a beautiful set-up designed by a famous architect...

The more we stroll in the garden, the more I feel sorry for its impending disappearance.

Victor: You really can’t bear to see it gone? 

MC: In the bustling city, such a garden is just too precious. 

The corners of Victor’s lips lift in response to my words. He responds calmly. 

Victor: The garden will be retained, and will become a cafe open to the public in the long-term. 

MC: So in the future... it will also be LFG’s property?!

Victor doesn’t comment. 

Victor: Once the movie preview is over, there will be a gradual adjustment of the layout and decor. 

MC: ...it’s really nice to have money.

Victor: That’s your biggest takeaway after watching the preview? 

MC: Of course not. I have very deep thoughts regarding this movie!

Victor arches his brows, as though waiting for my “deep thoughts” and review. 

I clear my throat, temporarily tossing aside my feelings towards capitalism. In my mind, I start recalling the images from the movie. 

MC: In Ronan’s movie, the lead keeps searching for an “oasis” in order to settle down and have sustenance. Every person needs his own “oasis”. It’s only when one has a foothold and a place to rest can he continually move forward. 

Victor: Looks like you really watched it seriously. 

MC: Which is why I’m very surprised by your decision to retain this garden. Perhaps it can become an oasis for busy people in this bustling city. 

Victor: If it’s possible, that would be best. 

MC: You don't think such an idea is overly vague or idealistic? 

Victor: You can only move forward with some resources. This is the same for everyone. Moreover, it’s only when you have a goal in mind and know where you’re heading towards, can you walk far, and walk steadily. 

I run a few steps in front, then turn around to stick out my tongue at him.

MC: Are we here to participate in the movie preview, or to do an inspection with you? 

Victor: Watch where you’re going.

Slightly resigned, Victor pushes aside some branches sticking out along the path. He reaches out and pulls me back to his side. 

Suddenly, a different view from the slender and delicate poppies enters my vision.

MC: Roses!

I blink. In one corner of the garden, in replacement of poppies, crimson roses bloom warmly under the moonlight. 

At the side, there are even a few bean bags and a small coffee table. 

In the luxurious and majestic garden, the roses, while sharing the same colour as poppies, add a different style to the courtyard. 

My thoughts drift to the rose-scented town I had once taken a slow walk with him in.

[Note: This is a reference to Victor’s Magnificent Date] 

I can’t help but smile and ask Victor a question.

MC: Is this one of the methods to attract visitors and raise property value? 

Victor: Yes.

Victor admits it matter-of-factly, but there’s a smile in his eyes. 

Victor: Ronan’s team insisted on adding different understandings of this theme in order to portray a richer definition of an “oasis”. Since they asked for my opinion, I naturally gave them my view.

Standing under the warm yellow street lamp, Victor’s expression looks exceptionally tender. 

Victor: From what I see, the result isn’t bad. 

-

There is a subtle sweet aroma of roses in the air. I sit comfortably on a bean bag, asking Victor with a grin:

MC: What other adjustments will be made?

Dressed in a well-ironed suit, Victor is also half-lying on the bean bag, looking somewhat languid. The aura surrounding him has become much more gentle. 

It’s as though we aren’t at a bustling movie preview, or a sky garden on the top floor of a building.

It’s just a normal weekend evening, in a small courtyard belonging to us, as we shed off the week’s worth of fatigue.

I can’t help but think of the afternoon he slept in front of me, and remember the day he had revealed an almost imperceptible state of relaxation to me. 

[Note: This is a reference to Victor’s Return Home Date]

Victor: You look like you have a lot of thoughts? 

MC: Of course I do! I’ve been to various shooting locations, and have met mature producers with differing styles. Apart from that, I’m also a contemporary member of society with a delicate mind and good aesthetic sense. Which is why I’m clearer than anyone else about what a stressed worker needs most in terms of external care. Just look - even my house is very warm, right?

Victor: If you can change your habit of leaving things lying around, it might be considered a “warm” house. 

MC: This is called “integrating with the masses” - it’s a small beauty in life.

Recalling the earlier topic, I stand up, pulling Victor as we head to the inner area of the park.

MC: For example, I think this place could have a few more elegant seats.

I point at the hanging rattan chair underneath the flower stand. 

MC: That way, visitors would be more comfortable when sitting down. Also, this path we walked on - although it looks very pretty in the movie, it’s easy to get hooked by bushes at the side. If it weren’t for your words just now, I would have definitely bumped into it. Also...

I look towards the trail lined with trees on both sides, leading towards the centre of the park.

MC: Maybe this is just my selfish thought, and has nothing to do with increasing practicality or comfort. However, if I had a choice, I would change these trees to Platanus trees. 

Several strands of shock flash across Victor’s dark eyes. Then, he opens his mouth to ask in slight amusement:

Victor: Why is that so? 

MC: Legend says that the Hanging Gardens was created by the king of Babylon for his wife who was suffering from homesickness. 

[Note: Platanus trees were part of the Hanging Gardens. Platanus trees, also known as Oriental Plane Trees, are a frequent motif featured in Classical Chinese poetry as an embodiment of sorrowful sentiments due to its autumnal shedding of leaves]

I walk along the small trail, staring at the poppies swaying in the wind. 

I wonder if that king, all those thousands of years ago, carried such a heart - wanting to give such a luxurious gift to the person he loved. 

MC: No matter what others may say, I also wish to leave the best things to the person most important to me. To build an oasis within his sight and touch where he can have a peace of mind. You’ve left a corner of the camellia garden for me, so I also wish to give you a small trail lined with Platanus trees. 

[Note: This is a reference to Victor’s Maze date, which is available in EN]

I raise my head with a smile, not caring that my cheeks have already heated up. I observe Victor’s dark coloured eyes carefully, and tell him what’s in my heart calmly and sincerely.

Victor pauses for a moment. Apart from surprise, his eyes also contain an undercurrent of a deeper and heavier emotion. 

Victor: With so many ideas, not letting you write a proposal to collaborate with the design team would be a waste of talent. When exactly did you learn to say such things? 

In the end, all his emotions culminate into his usual ridicule, which is more tender than usual.

Curling his fingers, he taps me on the forehead with some affection. 

MC: If you feel happy, you can just say it directly, really. 

Victor: And when did you hear me say that? 

MC: I felt it!

While laughing, I step onto the stairs, looking at the blooming poppy flowerbed. 

The flowerbed, which is suspended in mid-air, is the highest point of the garden. It is held up firmly by chains above the pool.

MC: Do you feel like I’m especially thoughtful and especially cute right now? 

Victor: I only feel that you’re especially childish.

While Victor says this, he walks up to the stairs and holds onto my hand. 

Victor: And that you’re truly a dummy. 

It is only when he draws nearer that I can clearly see the upward curve of his lips. 

Apart from the faraway lights and the water under us, his eyes also reflect my brilliantly smiling face. 

The flowerbed sways back and forth in small motions. 

Sitting here, I not only have a panoramic view of the garden, but can also overlook the entirety of Loveland City.

In the distance, the city lights are scattered around, artificial light sources forming another galaxy on earth.

MC: Victor, you once said that you would look at Loveland City from a height whenever you’re in a bad mood. I think I can understand something I didn’t think of before!

Victor: What do you understand this time? 

MC: This garden on the top level of the building, where you can overlook Loveland City, is perhaps your oasis. Now that I think about it, everything I said just now was unnecessary, right? 

Recalling my eloquent suggestions to Victor earlier, I start feeling slightly embarrassed.

Victor: Looks like you still don’t know anything.

MC: Tell me - what should I know then?

Supporting myself on the flowerbed with one hand, I grin, turning around to ask him.

The suspended flowerbed sways violently from my sudden movement. Only then do I remember that there are only a few fulcrums holding up the flower bed. 

With an unstable footing, I subconsciously reach out to clutch onto Victor, trying to maintain my balance. However, I still fall against the flower bed, hurting my shoulder blade.

Victor: You’re being impatient again.

[Note: There isn’t a direct translation of the phrase used here, 毛毛躁躁 (”mao mao zao zao”), but it conveys the idea of doing things hurriedly and inattentively]

His voice resounds very close to me. I open my eyes, and directly meet his line of sight.

Because of my sudden movement, Victor has also been pulled towards me. 

One of his hands is wrapped around the back of my head, preventing me from hitting it. Another hand is at my ear, holding me steady. 

Right now, this action seems to be imprisoning me between the fresh flowers and himself. 

MC: S...sorry, I’ll pay more attention next time...

I stammer, my heart rate speeding up. 

Victor: You said this the last time as well. 

The heat from summer has not fully dissipated. Humidity lingers in the air. 

The poppies in the garden bloom quietly, and the night is warm. It’s as though everything I see and feel have become gentle. 

Even Victor’s eyes and outline grow blurry from the light and shadows, encasing him in a layer of tenderness. 

Our sudden proximity causes my heart rate to accelerate, and it feels like my thoughts have been stuck in place. 

I avert my gaze, slightly guilty. I raise my palm to put some distance between us. 

MC: We’re about done with the viewing. The dinner is about to begin, so we should head down... I remember it’s one level below? 

Victor: ...do you know that your ability to change the topic is very poor. 

Victor sighs softly, then gently shifts his hand away from the back of my head. 

When the warmth belonging to him vanishes, a sense of longing floods my heart. 

It’s as though I have awakened from a charming dream surrounded by warm currents, returning to reality once again.

But in the next second, the warmth I’m most familiar with envelops my wrist.

Looking into his dark eyes, I think I must have truly misunderstood. 

Whether it’s the Babylonian king from thousands of years ago, or any other ordinary person, the thing people truly want isn’t the view from their memory. It’s the person they want to share the view with. 

Victor: I’m going to answer your question from just now. Listen carefully. 

Victor: The words you said are not unnecessary. 

Victor: And I am indeed very happy.

Victor shifts upwards, encircling me in front of him again. 

He is so close that the entire world seems to be condensed into his pair of eyes. 

The fountain spurts at regular intervals, shattering the calm of the water. Water vapour floating in the air refracts light, caging us in a colourful curtain of light. 

Victor: Just now, someone eloquently mentioned wanting to build an oasis within my sight and touch. And now you’re so anxious - where do you want to run off to? 

Perhaps the temperature of the evening is overly gentle, and the light from the water is too fine. I’m unable to see what emotions lie in Victor’s eyes. 

As the distance between us closes, I can clearly see every gentle quiver of his eyelashes, and can feel the heat from every lingering breath from our noses. 

His lips move slightly, as though wanting to say something to me. 

Before he can speak, the fountain spurts again. This time, the cool water happens to spray onto us. 

MC: Ah...

I want to hurriedly straighten up and dry Victor, but a gentle yet irresistible pressure pushes me back down. 

The water columns from the fountain change, forming into different heights and shapes. Scattered droplets of water patter on us like light rain.

Victor’s hair, which has always been tidied meticulously, droops slightly because of the water droplets. 

The slender poppies beside us sway slightly. Water vapour condenses on the flower petals, dripping down along the body of the flower. 

Victor: No need to care about that. Having you here is enough. 

His slightly hoarse voice brushes against my ear along with his breath. It circles past the nape of my neck, evoking a certain numbness. 

Victor’s body temperature continuously travels to my wrist, entering my heart. 

Victor: My “oasis”... has already belonged to me since a very long time ago.

🌹 

Phone Call: here 

[aria-i-adagio]

Suntrap - Dragon Age Fanfiction

Chapter 42 of Where the Elfroot Grows. It's short and can stand alone, so I'm cross-posting the entirety to Tumblr.

Meanwhile...

Skyhold.

It has taken weeks to get here. Weeks of impossible terrain, and freezing temperatures, and thin air. Weeks of gorgeous blue sky, and dazzling white snow, and mountain views that stole the breath from Rhys’s lungs. But Solas’s promise kept a good number of the survivors from Haven going, and Mother Giselle rallied the rest. And they’ve arrived. Skyhold. A fortress that shouldn't exist because how could one build a castle in the sky?

Rhys has been scolded so many times for wasting his time building castles in the sky.

The place holds its breath waiting for them to enter through the gates that long ago fell open. Cullen orders the soldiers to spread out and search, but Rhys can't convince himself to hold back and wait for caution, not after the weeks of anticipation. He spins around with his chin tilted up and his hands held slightly out to his sides, surveying the high, mostly intact walls, the domineering circular keep, the long basilica married to its side, and then - with a laugh and a shout - he bolts up the sloping ground toward the second level of the courtyard, ignoring Dorian’s dismayed shout about unholy fools and how they’ll be the death of him.

Rhys for pauses a moment, enjoying the crunchy sounds of grass beneath his feet; he shouldn’t take his boots and socks off, but it’s an act of will not to. He waits for Solas and Dorian catch up with him before picking his way up the stairs to the basilica, exercising a little more restraint in case the old stones start to crumble beneath his feet. Falling into Haven’s forgotten catacombs had been an unpleasant experience. One he does not care to repeat.

Rhys pauses at the threshold of the basilica. “So, this is Skyhold.”

“Yes.” Solas stands to the side with his hands folded behind his back. “Abandoned and waiting for centuries now.”

“Is this one of the places you sought out to dream in?”

Solas’s smile is enigmatic. “Certainly it is a place where I will dream now. Go on.”

Vines hang over the doorway at the top of the narrow, crooked stairs. Rhys pushes them aside - Arbor Grace, he thinks, although it’s a bit hard to tell when the leaves are dead, dry, and crumbling in the cold. Behind them, an empty door frame opens into a long hall. Dorian catches the vines and holds them back, gesturing elegantly for Rhys to be the first to step inside.

Rhys holds his breath as he enters. Stone vaults support a soaring ceiling. The remnants of a carpet sprawl across the floor, rotted by time and scattered by animals. Colored light scatters through the room, flowing through a miraculously intact rose window opposite the door.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you might appreciate it.” Solas lays a hand on the doorframe and strokes the stone with his thumb like one might the hand of an old friend.

Dorian follows them inside, claps his hands together, and blows on them. “And it’s out of the blighted wind.” He’s been despairing that he would suffer frostbite and lose an unsymmetric number of fingers since before they ran from Haven. In all fairness, it hadn’t been entirely theatrics on Dorian’s part. Rhys still wasn’t entirely sure how the rest had managed to evacuate with as many supplies as they did; he suspects it had something to do with Josie’s preternatural organizational skills. There had been sufficient heavy coats and blankets to go around, and if there weren’t technically enough tents for the group, no one complained much about sleeping piled close together in the few tents that they did have because it was too damned cold at night for anyone to sleep alone. Rhys can think of several fates worse than sharing space with a cranky not-actually-a-magister.

Solas chuckles. “I would not call the wind blighted, but yes, it is out of the wind. Go explore, Herald. I suggest the first door on your left.”

Rhys hops up and down, trying to get some feeling back in his toes before running off to see what else Skyhold contains. Not the defenses. Cassandra and Cullen are already inspecting the battlements, and it isn’t as if he would know anything about whether the keep could be fortified. But there are so many other aspects of any new place. Secrets. History. Rhys can feel the ghosts of years and years breathing around him, heavy and portentous. Curious. Apprehensive. Welcoming.

“Do you feel them too?”

“Yes.” Dorian looks around the echoing space and shivers again. “Some are old. Older than the stones of this place.”

Rhys hooks his arm through Dorian’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s see what else there is.”

Unoiled hinges protest loudly when they shove open the door Solas suggested. A tunnel passes through the thick stone wall and out onto a gallery running around three sides of an open yard. The space is entirely overgrown -a riot of unpruned trees and aggressive vines - but Rhys recognizes it for what it is immediately.

“A suntrap!” He lets go of Dorian and springs over a collapsed balustrade to land in the overgrownth. The temperature of the air in the yard is several degrees warmer than anything Rhys has experienced in weeks. Warm enough for plant life to remain active within this nook. Bits of greenery poke through dead grasses. Blackberries are taking over and creeping into the galleries - as one expects from an ornery vine. Hardy shrubs long ago abandoned whatever order they might have first been planted in and dot the space at disorganized intervals, and closer to the walls, where the heat will be best retained through the nights, Rhys can make out the shapes of fruit trees, gnarly with age.

He stomps down brambles as he makes his way back to the trees: apple and pears, cold-tolerant varieties, though he doesn’t recognize precisely which ones - or they may all be seedling after so much time untended - but they’re still bearing even in the cold of this altitude. He pulls the glove off his right hand and reaches up, gently touching the neck of a pear. It’s not quite ripe yet, but very, very close.

The weeds rustle behind him as Dorian picks his way over, stepping carefully to avoid catching his clothes on the thorny blackberries. “I don’t know what a suntrap is, but if it’s always this much warmer, I like it.”

“Look at how the walls are built. It’s open to the northwest to catch the sun during the day.” Rhys indicates the stones surrounding them, gesticulating with both hands. “All the stones warm up during the day and keep the plants from freezing at night. Other than a greenhouse, it’s the only way I know of to grow much of anything at this altitude.”

“Clever.”

“Yes!” Rhys had worked in suntraps before. The Circle in Ostwick used one to grow tenderer herbs and fruits from higher latitudes - Tevinter, mostly, even a few from Par Vollen. Nothing that heat-loving will grow here, of course, but the suntrap is a promising challenge. Rhys never tried to coax anything into life in a place so cold. “Once the ground is cleared, I think I can get all sorts of things to grow here. Add a cold frame or two, and...”

If nothing else he’ll be able to get root vegetables and greens going. The presence of healthy fruit trees suggests that at least some summer vegetables will make it - not at this time of year, of course, but there’s always next spring to experiment. He’ll need to choose the location well, possibly add some warming glyphs he wants anything semi-tropical like tomatoes. Tomatoes would be lovely.

Dorian catches at Rhys’s arm just below his elbow. “Hold on there. Let’s get a bit more settled before you go finding another way to get entirely covered in dirt.” He picks a stray leaf out of Rhys’s hair and tuts. “Look you’ve already gotten started.”

Rhys holds Dorian’s gaze as long as he can manage before there’s too much blood rushing to his cheeks to be passed off as an effect of the chill. He dips his chin and looks away, still smiling and probably looking like an absolute fool.

“I wonder if there’s a well in here. There has to be a water source - or several - in a fortress this size.” Rhys wanders toward the middle of the garden kicking aside the blackberry brambles. It’s a little late for berries - even this high up - but Rhys would still place a fairly high stake on his ability to find something edible in all this mess. He thinks he can see something that was once a domesticated brassica of some sort. It’s run wild over multiple generations of going to seed, but no one would be too picky at this point about cooked greens being a bit on the bitter side. They’re running low on food. Game had gotten scarcer as the altitude grew higher.

“I’m sure anyone who engineered something that’s lasted this long thought about water.”

Dorian's gloved hand finds his again, and Rhys turns into the contact. An indulgent smile crinkles Dorian’s eyes and turns up the corners of his currently-less-than-perfectly sharp mustache. Rhys reaches out his bare fingers and touches the stubble on Dorian's face, not even the frigid temperatures and weeks of travel on foot had convinced him to let a full beard grow in. Two days seems to be the maximum amount of time he could tolerate going without shaving. Rhys lets his thumb rest at the corner of Dorian's lips, half expecting him to pull away.

A shout echoes through the suntrap, bouncing off the stone walls. “Hey, Sparkles, Lucky - what did you find out here?”

Dorian tenses and turns, but into Rhys's hand, lips brushing across his palm before stepping aside and picking his way back to where Varric stands on the gallery. “The Herald has discovered some plants. Possibly dinner.”

Dammit.

Rhys huffs with annoyance. Then grins when his breath doesn’t immediately turn to frost.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Eleven

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: Not beta-read. I hope everyone is well!! Thank you to everyone that’s read/liked/reblogged/replied! I really appreciate it! Warnings: Some angst because clearly we haven't had enough of that in this story so far. Summary: I felt my heart slam against my rib cage at the mention. He was feigning ignorance, but he and I both knew that he was very familiar with my name. Spargo wasn’t some senile old-timer that had to strain to relive his greatest victories and his most devastating losses.

Wary of turning up late after my utter shame of an attempted apology to Pike, I arrived at the ready room only to find it devoid of the Captain himself. Spargo was there. He made an imposing sight -  hands clasped behind his back as he peered out of the window, his greyed hair combed back to reveal a high forehead and an almost blocky profile. “A-Admiral,” His gaze, laser-sharp and flinty, fixed on me. I felt myself straighten further, hands clasping behind myself as I hurried to add, “I apologize, I didn’t know anyone was in here--” “Quite alright, lieutenant,” Spargo cut me off with a wave of his hand. I took a couple of steps further into the room, looking around. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than being alone than Pike at the moment.

“If I may say so, lieutenant, your name,” The Admiral said, watching me, “Is rather familiar.” I felt my heart slam against my rib cage at the mention. He was feigning ignorance, but he and I both knew that he was very familiar with my name. Spargo wasn’t some senile old-timer that had to strain to relive his greatest victories and his most devastating losses. “My father was a diplomatic attaché for the Federation, sir.” Spargo hesitated, then nodded once. “I believe I worked with him once. Conflict resolution on Sorrel. Quick thinker, smart man.” “It runs in the family,” I heard Una speak up behind me and I ducked my head at the compliment. I glanced back at her, offering a small nod of thanks. “The Captain is waiting for you in the transporter room,” She added. -- Save for the single antenna that rose from the right side of their forehead, Larilians looked as human as Pike and Spargo and I. I knew I likely wouldn’t get to see any of the planet, really, and it frustrated me. It was the second time I’d been on Larilia and I wouldn’t get to see anything. Alright, so that wasn’t entirely true. I would be in the room that the negotiations took place in this time. Una had set expectations with me once I’d come down from some of my mortification (of whose source I had refused to explain). This would not be a single day’s worth of negotiating. She expected we would be on Larilia for at least a week. By the end of the second day of negotiating, I was certain that we’d be there for at least a month. The leaders of the two warring sides were sisters; there had been a dispute when their mother, the former leader, had passed away, and left no clear heir between the twins, Choholl and Chihurs. The two had been unable to come to a peaceful resolution; the family, politicians, and the planet had taken sides. Through me, Spargo tended to lead the conversation; when Pike interjected, it was for clarification. We’d been equipped with PADDs that Pike, Spargo and I could communicate through; it was easier for the two of them to message me and for me to voice it directly rather than have them ask the question and for me to repeat it. By the third day, though, it looked like the week might right on target. Choholl and Chihurs had reached a point of agreement in regards to a territory on Somonia, the planet’s moon, and the home of the processing plants for Larilia’s greatest export: nickel. It was incredibly rare in that area of the Beta Quadrant; the plants employed nearly a third of the Larilian population. Choholl, having declared that the export paid handsomely but was of little value to her, had declared that the territory could go to Chihurs. My PADD pinged with a single word from Spargo: Dissuade. My first instinct was to repeat the word, but I knew that that was wrong. I glanced in the Admiral’s direction, frowning. He gave a nod toward the message, brow arching when I didn’t speak up. I gave a small head shake and Spargo cleared his throat, drawing attention to him. He quickly tapped out another message, suggesting a break. I lifted my head, looking between Choholl and Chihurs, drawing their attention, and repeating the Admiral’s suggestion. I saw Pike shift on the other side of me. “We’re finally getting somewhere,” he argued. “Best not push it,” Spargo’s tone was short as he pushed his chair away from the table, along with Choholl, Chihurs, and their advisers. Pike stayed behind in the negotiating room, citing his need to contact the Enterprise to check in. I was tempted to stay planted, but the Admiral tapped a finger on my shoulder. I pushed myself up, following him out of the room and into our adjoining waiting room. I stayed near the door as it slid shut behind me. Spargo had already made his way to the other side of the room and was peering out of the window. “Do you disobey Pike regularly?” “Excuse me?” I asked. “I gave you an order in there, lieutenant, and you disregarded it,” Spargo turned to me. “Telling me to dissuade them from the only agreement that they’ve managed to make during the course of these talks seems like a bad move.” “Lieutenant,” Spargo’s voice was patronizing, “It is in the Federation’s best interest that the nickel processing plants go to Choholl and not to Chihurs.” “I think it’s more in the Federation’s interests that the two warring sides reach a peace.” “Do you think that this is the way that wars are fought and won? Do you think that this is how your father went about this? --Let me tell you something about your father.” I fought the urge to shrink away as Spargo stalked across the room. “He was a strong negotiator because he understood that in some cases, there would be losses-- There will always be a winner and a loser. You think your father never chose the Federation’s priorities over a planet’s well-being? You think he was entirely objective on Sorrel?” I dug my nails into my palms as I kept my gaze steadily on Spargo’s. My time in Starfleet had been largely untarnished by my father’s reputation, but his slip-up on Sorrel had been lingering in the back of my mind as I acted as the conduit between the two warring parties, the Captain, and the Admiral. Spargo stopped in front of me, the twist of his mouth cruel. “It’s unfortunate that you’ve taken no pains to learn from his mistakes. He didn’t listen to me at that table, either. His willfulness resulted in the escalation of a tensions and resulted in thousands of lives lost--” “That seems like an issue that you should’ve taken up not only with the Federation, but with my father. If you wish to speak with him about an error in judgement, Admiral, I can give you a reliable way to contact him once our mission here is completed.” “What’s going on?” Neither the Admiral nor I turned toward the Captain at the sound of his voice; I had no way of knowing how long he’d been there, but I couldn't imagine the Admiral would’ve continued berating me if he’d known that Pike was just a few feet away. “...The lieutenant and I were just having a conversation regarding strategy,” Spargo watched me still, daring me to contradict him. I couldn’t if I tried; my tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. “I need to have a word with the Captain, lieutenant. If you’ll excuse us,” the Admiral added, nodding toward the door. I was in no place to object - if anyone was, it was Pike, but I didn’t want him to. I wanted out of that room as quickly as possible. I turned from the Admiral and strode out of the room. I must’ve passed too closely to Pike, because I felt his knuckles whisper across the back of my hand as I passed him. I was able to hold it together as I walked down the hall to my quarters on-world. I pressed my thumb to the identification pad and the door ‘swished’ open and shut behind me. I couldn’t stop breathing heavily. Anyone that had seen me could’ve passed it off as the speed I’d left the room with, how quickly I’d hurried down the hall. I tried to talk myself into thinking that, too, but the anger overtook me faster than the lie could. My breathing turned to wheezes; my fingers fumbled clumsily at my collar like they were sausages and not the dexterous digits that spent hours at a console working at comms and translations. I managed to work my collar open and unzip the jacket before I shucked it off, tossing it onto the bed in my temporary quarters. My heart had lodged itself in my throat, pounding at triple-time as I paced about my room. I knew that sitting down and taking deep breaths wouldn’t solve this; I was too enraged to just put on my Spock-cap this time, I couldn’t logic my way into calm. I braced myself against the windowsill, peering outside. What could I see? I could focus on that. Streets, trees, people. People that could be hurt if I didn’t do well - if I didn’t follow orders. I turned away from it, leaning back against the window instead. I could focus on something else. Definitions. Vulcan. I could put on a Spock cap in some estimation. Be’. Beside. At the side of, in comparison with. What was Spargo telling Pike? Be’. By. Close to, next to. About me, no doubt-- my father, my insubordination. He could’ve mentioned this to Pike before I’d been assigned. Maybe he had. Maybe Spargo had talked Pike into choosing me, not only because of the briefing that I’d given them, but because he thought that he could hang your father’s history over me.  Be’es. A proximity. The state of, the quality of, or the fact of being near or next to. “Visitor: Captain Pike.” My head lifted at the sound of the computer. I took in a deep breath. I’d managed to calm myself down, some. Pike was probably coming to tell me that Thaleh would be taking it from there. I pushed off of the window and reached out, picking up my jacket and putting it back on. I zipped up my collar and tucked a finger into it, stretching it a bit. I opened the door, facing Pike head-on. His eyes searched my face for a moment before he said, “They’re ready for us.” I nodded a little, swallowing thickly. “Let’s go, then,” I said. -- The remainder of the day moved on without any further conflict between myself and Spargo. I translated his and the Captain’s messages verbatim; Choholl and Chihurs negotiated a de-escalation of combat in the Bronzehill region of the planet. Pike and Spargo returned to the Enterprise to dine there (Admiral Cornwell had beamed aboard to discuss progress). I stayed behind on the planet, venturing out onto the building’s deck. I had changed out of my uniform; my badge and communicator were in my pocket, just in case. “You are out quite late.” I straightened at the sound of Larilian-lilted Federation Standard. My brows rose at the sight of Chihurs drifting toward me. “I-- Forgive me, highness, I didn’t know that this area is off-limits--” “It is not, Voxi.” Pronounced voh-ksi, it was the Larilian word for ‘translator’, and the term that I had become accustomed to being referred to as over the last few days. I gave a small nod as Chihurs came to stop beside me, peering out over the city. Where I had been letting my mind go quiet, I was suddenly stiff, and panicked. How did one act around a royal? “Have you been through Willfall before?” Chihurs gestured toward the city. I shook my head a little. “I haven’t had the pleasure, no.” “You speak as a native.” I smiled a little at the compliment. “I… My father was here, many years ago, and I was with him. Someone was assigned to watch me for the week that we were here, and I learned as much as I could. I always liked the language, I thought it sounded like music.” “You’ve quite the ear for it, as did your father, voxi.” I felt a chill run through me as I turned to get a better look at Chihurs. “You knew my father?” Chihurs gave a single nod. “I remember his speech on the behalf of the Federation. It was… Hopeful. Far more hopeful than either Choholl or I were at the time.” “...Do you miss her?” I was afraid to ask, but the looks that the sisters had shared over the last few days had made me wonder. Chihurs’ antenna twitched. “Every day,” Her answer was quiet, her voice, thick with sorrow, “Every day I wonder how much longer we’ll have to endure this.” Larilians tended to live long lives; the average lifespan of a Larilian was 197 years. At nearly 99, the twins seemed to have at least another century of fight looming ahead of them. The look on Chihurs’ face told me that she didn’t have it in her. “She misses you, too,” I offered, “It’s plain in the way that she speaks, and the--- The moon, Somonia, when she gave it to you, when you accepted…Her eyes seemed to light up at seeing you happy.” Chihurs didn’t answer me at first, and I was sure I’d overstepped. “What do you think of our chances?” She asked finally. I reached up, rubbing at the back of my neck, unsure as I fixed my eyes on an arena not too far off. “I don’t know, I’ve never been to anything like this. At least-- not in an official capacity. But… Well, I’ve been in the room of negotiations that have gone downhill, or simply remained stagnant. The air always feels stifling, close, like-- Like they’re waiting for lightning to strike. It doesn’t feel like that to me.” “It has before,” Chihurs admitted, “It is odd to feel a channel so open between myself and Choholl after all of this time.” “Has it made you hopeful?” Chihur’s violet eyes settled on mine for a few moments. “It… Has started to. For the first time in over twenty years, I have been in a room with my sister with minimal biting words, with few arguments. We’re closer to a conflict resolution than we have been in a long time, thanks to you, and your Admiral and your Captain.” I nodded a little bit. “Captain Pike and Admiral Spargo know what they’re doing.” “And you?” “I’m...Just following their lead.” Chihurs raised a brow. “Do not do yourself the disservice of assuming your contribution is limited to your voice, voxi. You are quicker than you think.” I frowned, waiting for Chihurs to elaborate, but she straightened without another word, walking back into the building. I stayed on the balcony for a while longer. Part of me was itching to beam up to the Enterprise to speak with Una, but another part of me was determined to sort through this myself. Further open defiance of the Admiral could land me a court marshall, but an order to favor a side without cause didn’t fly with me. Tag list: @angels-pie​

[kimberly-spirits13]

Batboys with Visually Impaired S/O HC (Blind) (Request):

Dick:

·      He knew you in the circus

·      You were blind but could predict parts of the future and basically had this kind of third eye thing

·      Your gig was to describe people and basically be a psychic

·      He thought that you were really cool and also had a big crush on you even when he left the circus

·      The next time you two met was when you were in the league

·      You recognized his energy and he saw you and ran to hug you

·      The two of you started hanging out a ton and then dating

·      He’ll literally deck anyone that dares make a comment about your vision

·      He thinks that you’re really cool and tells you all of the time

·      If you ever need any help with anything he’ll be there for you

·      He’s a mama bear

·      Very supportive of you

·      Makes just really nice comments about you which leaves you blushing all of the time

·      If you tell him NOT to go out for patrol one night, he won’t even question it he’ll just not go

·      Helps you wherever he can but if you tell him to back off he will

Jason Todd:

·      I accept the head cannon that he was color blind and then got his full spectrum vision or whatever you chose to call it back when he was resurrected which isn’t really bad but still

·      You were probably blinded from an accident or just overtime so you’d dream and see things but when you awoke you couldn’t

·      You talked to him about the dreams a lot and he’d listen like he was preparing for exams to save the world or something

·      He loves when you talk about it even if it’s just aimlessly rambling on

·      Helps you with anything you need

·      He thinks that it’s really cool how you’ve adapted

·      Also, just being able to live life to the fullest so well

·      You’ve learned how to use your other senses and he really admires it

·      Thinks it’s pretty damn awesome

·      Has told you that in the past

Tim:

·      So, Timmy boi knew that the thing that you wanted most was to see a sunset or something like that

·      You had heard so much about them in books you had listened to or read in brail

·      They sounded wonderful

·      You could get around really well and he was very impressed by that

·      But he really wanted you to be able to see a sunset

·      What you didn’t know about him was that he was working on a piece of tech to let you see again

·      They were contacts and glasses that you could put in that had this advancement that would let you see

·      He didn’t want you to know about it until the right moment and tested it a TON before letting you have them so that you weren’t disappointed at ALL

·      When he did let you have them you literally were sobbing

·      He was crying too

·      You got to see your first sunset and it was amazing

·      And seeing Tim for the first time

·      You got him to start selling them and together started a brand for it

·      Changed the world with them, ya know, as Timmy does

Damian Wayne:

·      He was infatuated by you

·      You were so different

·      Grateful for everything and adaptive

·      He thought you were a wonderful person

·      That was when he had the idea

·      The Lazarus Pit

·      He thought that it might help and after consulting Todd and a few other people in private, he knew that it was worth a shot

·      He took you there for an “adventure”

·      He was not going to tell you what was happening in case it didn’t work

·      And then it did

·      You came back from out of the water a blinked a few times, squinting from the light and then screamed

·      He was by your side the entire time and felt really bad for startling you but he was relieved that this entire thing worked and wasn’t just for nothing

·      You thanked him so many times he had to tell you to stop

·      He also took you on a trip around the world so that you could see everything

 Duke: (source: @vaxildvn )

·      He’s chill with it and admires you a lot

·      You probably did music or something and that’s how you two let

·      Lofi kind of alternative sound

·      He really liked it and then you played at one of the Wayne galas and he got to meet you

·      You two sit and listen to music all day sometimes

·      You really like making the music because sometimes you visualize things

·      Describing what you see to him

·      He’ll get you whatever you need

·      He also totally understands that you don’t need someone to help you with EVERYTHING but is there if you do need help

Luke:

·      Tbh he’ll also probably develop tech to help you

·      This time it’s just something for you for a bit

·      He doesn’t go and sell it for a little while but will probably eventually

·      You’re very grateful for them and are asking about how they work all of the time

·      He likes that you’re curious

·      If you don’t want to wear them all of the time he totally understands

·      Sometimes you just want something that’s more ... comfortable for you

·      Just something that makes you feel more in your own skin

·      He wants you to be your best self no matter how cliché it might be

Glasses/ Contacts S/O (I wanted to add this one just because it fit fine):

Dick:

·      You met each other growing up as part of Young Justice

·      You were one of the best fighters on the team and also a nerd

·      You two were probably hacking buddies

·      He actually didn’t know that you had glasses since you always wore contacts

·      The first time he saw them he told you he liked them a lot which made you blush some

·      You started wearing them in the cave more and more

·      Sometimes he’ll try on your glasses but is really careful not to break them

·      “Wow Y/N/N, you really are blind.” “And you really are a dick.”

·      He’ll tease you about it some but if anyone makes a comment, he’ll throw fists

Jason:

·      He thinks your glasses are cute

·      Calls you a nerd sometimes

·      In return you call him thunder thighs

·      He won’t ever touch your classes or contacts unless you ask for them

·      He makes sure that you have what you need

·      He will personally back hand anyone that makes an off comment about them

·      Carries eye drops with him in case you forget yours

·      Always makes sure that you have enough contacts if yours are disposable

Tim:

·      He doesn’t tease you about your glasses or whatever

·      He does however think that it’s funny when your glasses fog up from steaming coffee

·      He may or may not have glasses and contacts from staring at a screen for so long

·      That depends but if he has them, he’ll also have an extra of everything for you

·      You two share the struggles of glasses

·      Fogging up

·      Getting marks on them

·      SMUDGES

·      If you ever break yours, he probably has a backup pair for you

·      It’s just a precaution

Damian:

·      Doesn’t touch your glasses

·      He doesn’t want to break them or leave a mark on them

·      He’ll compliment you all of the time

·      Really loves how you look in them

·      Doesn’t let anyone give you grief over them

·      He really does think you look beautiful though

·      He thinks that it’s funny when you’re watching something and the glass part of your glasses turn white because of the reflection

·      Makes sure that you have all of your appointments in order

·      Gets you the best eye doctor

Duke:  (source: @vaxildvn )

·      He’ll compliment you on them all of the time

·      Gives you cute nicknames on based off of it

·      Ya know, if that’s really possible

·      He’ll carry an extra pair of contacts around for you just in case something happens to them

·      Thinks it’s funny if you have to use nerd wax to keep your glasses from sliding down your nose

·      He might try on your glasses (with permission) once and then not do it again

·      He’ll also carry an extra cloth to clean the glasses

Luke:

·      He’s kind of indifferent about it

·      I mean they’re glasses and contacts

·      They’re normal

·      He will compliment you on them sometimes though

·      Especially if you get a new pair

·      Makes sure that you always have everything that you need when it comes to glasses and contacts

·      Extra solution? Check

·      A new carrying case? Check

·      Nerd Wax? Check

[chibi-beaver]

I'm in a bad batch kinda mood today and decided to write some Hunter & Omega fluff/angst!

Rating: General

Warnings: none (this is pretty wholesome)

Summary: After Hunter loses his cool with Omega, he remembers what Cut and Suu told him and tries to make things right

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, domestic fluff, parenting, father daughter relationship

There will be Bad Batch spoilers in this so don't read if you haven't watched the latest episode (episode 4)

Honestly, I'm pretty proud of this rn 😁

Story is also attached under the cut if you wanna read it here, if you like it I'd appreciate the notes here and/or kudos on ao3 😁

Edit: I forgot to add some fic tags 😳

Omega had gotten herself into yet another jam. All they had to do was get supplies on Tatooine. It certainly wasn't the nicest planet but it was in the outer rim and for the most part, off the radar of the Empire.

All Omega had to do was stay close to Hunter as they went into Mos Espa. It was supposed to be an in and out supply run but when was any supply run in and out? He should've known that something had to happen but why did it have to happen to Omega?

She had gotten herself into the hands of yet another bounty hunter. Hadn't she learned her lesson after the encounter on Pantora? Hunter thought to himself as he ran through the sandy "streets" of Mos Espa in search of Omega.

"Wrecker, Tech, Echo! I need help finding Omega!" Hunter yelled into his comm.

"I'm on it!" Wrecker replied.

"I'm finishing the ship's repairs but I've sent Echo," Tech said.

"I thought Echo was repairing the ship with you," Hunter said.

"He was, but we're almost done," Tech replied.

Hunter was relieved that he got two of his men helping him find Omega.

Hunter tripped over his feet. The grains of sand were making his feet slide everywhere. Just when things couldn't get any worse, Hunter noticed a Tusken Raider running off with something. Upon closer look, it was his blaster.

Hunter was conflicted on what to do but he eventually ran after the Tusken Raider and tackled it to the ground before ripping the gun out of his tiny hands. Some more Tusken Raiders surrounded Hunter, weapons pointed at him. Probably stolen weapons, he thought. He looked around, looking for an out. He knew if he shot one, he'd subsequently get shot by another, which could incapacitate him, but he couldn't waste any time. If their encounter with the bounty hunter on Pantora taught him anything, he knew that they were cunning and fearless. They would do anything to keep their hands on Omega and would harm anyone who got in their way. Almost like what he would do for Omega. He just wished that she would stop getting into trouble.

Suddenly, they all ran off at the sound of something. Hunter was unsure of the source of the sound until his comm went off.

"You can thank me later, Tuskens hate Krayt Dragons," Tech said.

"How did you know I was-"

"I got my repairs done and I started watching the camera feeds around Mos Espa and noticed some Tuskens bothering you in the background of one," Tech replied.

"Now I'm glad you record the sound of every animal you've heard of," Hunter said, relief permeating his voice.

"I can see the bounty hunter!" Wrecker said into the comm.

"Transmit me your coordinates!" Hunter said.

"How do I do that!?" Wrecker asked.

"I got this, you focus on finding Omega," Tech said as he transmitted Wrecker's coordinates to Hunter and Echo.

Hunter immediately ran to them, meeting up with Echo on the way. Just as they got there, Wrecker got knocked out by Bounty Hunter who seemed to use the weapon he knocked Wrecker out with as a hat.

"I got Wrecker, go find Omega!" Echo said as he tried to help Wrecker.

Hunter obliged to what Echo said as he continued running after the bounty hunter. He was led to a dead-end street where he saw an anooba cornering Omega. Hunter took out his blaster and shot the anooba in the leg, causing him to yelp. Omega was distressed by the sound, as was the bounty hunter who retaliated by throwing his hat like a frisbee at Hunter. Hunter ducked just in time and avoided being hit by the hat. The bounty hunter then took out a weapon of his own and began shooting at Hunter with it. Hunter continued running towards the bounty hunter, to tackle him. It was successful until the anooba came back to tackle Hunter, causing him to drop his blaster.

Omega slowly made her way towards the blaster, but the anooba must have smelt her because he got off of Hunter and jumped on Omega. Hunter took the opportunity to pick up his blaster and pointed it at the bounty hunter's head, just as Echo and Wrecker arrived at the scene. Cornering the bounty hunter. He called his anooba off of Omega as he searched for a way out.

"What do you want with Omega?" Hunter asked, keeping the blaster pointed at the bounty hunter's head. He started speaking in an unknown language.

"Where's Tech when you need him?" Echo muttered as he turned on his comm but didn't say anything.

Hunter repeated the question as Omega approached Wrecker and stood behind his leg, she was trembling.

"He's trying to say that he was put off to it by an unknown client, it's just a job to him, a good-paying job at that," Tech whispered as he listened in.

The bounty hunter didn't answer the question as the anooba brought back his hat. The bounty hunter took the hat and hit Hunter with it before running to make his escape, pushing Echo and Wrecker out of the way.

"What were you thinking?!" Hunter said frustratedly to Omega.

"I-I'm sorry," Omega said.

"I thought you would've learned not to talk to strangers or touch strange animals after Pantora!" Hunter continued.

Omega said nothing in return as she stayed at Wrecker's side.

"You could've gotten yourself killed again! These situations are why I wanted to send you with Cut and Suu! So that you could be safe!" Hunter said. He saw the sad expression on Omega's face immediately after he said that. She looked like she was going to cry.

"Lay off her!" Wrecker said as he took Omega's hand and started back to the ship with Echo.

Hunter quickly began to regret what he had said. The regret kept itself on his mind as he walked back to the ship.

When he got back to the ship, Omega was in her room with the curtain closed.

"Let's get off this desert world," Tech said as he plotted a course for Idaflor. Maybe this time they would actually make it there without needing to repair the ship or to get supplies.

Hunter began to grow concerned as hours passed and Omega had still not left her room. Usually, she wouldn't stay in her room long. Her curious mind always kept her on the go, even though she had seen the inside of the ship countless times. Even if she wasn't feeling curious, she would usually leave to use the fresher. Tech looked back from the pilot's seat at Hunter

"What's wrong?" Tech asked.

"Nothing that you can fix," Hunter said, glancing at Omega's room.

"Well, that's a lie because I know a way to fix most things," Tech said.

"Yea, you can fix ships but you know about as much as I do about parenting," Hunter replied.

"Ah, it's about Omega. Hmmm, well maybe you should talk to her, perhaps discussing whatever happened might help things," Tech said.

Hunter didn't reply. Rather he sat back into his chair while Tech turned back to whatever device he was building. He remembered Tech telling him what it was but he had forgotten. As Hunter thought about what he could do, his mind went back to Cut and Suu.

"Easy, she's not a soldier."

Cut said that to him the first time he lashed out at Omega.

"You're safe, that's all that matters."

Hunter reminded himself that Omega was on the ship with them and not in the hands of that bounty hunter but at the same time, she shouldn't have touched that anooba. They didn't know the animal, it could've been diseased, or as it was in this case, connected to someone dangerous.

"Children will always find ways of getting into trouble, Hunter. It's what they do. Protecting them is what we do".

Hunter thought more about what he had said on Tatooine. Even if some of it was warranted, he shouldn't have brought up Cut and Suu. It was a bit of a sore spot for Omega, knowing that Hunter was going to pawn her off on Cut and Suu, even if he thought it was for her own good.

Hunter decided to approach Omega's room. He climbed up a couple steps of the ladder.

"Omega?" Hunter said.

"Go away!" Omega said.

"I just want to talk," Hunter said. "No yelling this time. I'm not mad." Hunter continued in a gentler tone.

"Fine," Omega said.

Hunter pulled the curtain to side slightly. She was sitting in her room with Lula held in one of her arms as she looked out the window at the whizzing of hyperspace.

Hunter sat in the small face, doing his best to fit. Wrecker clearly designed this space for someone of Omega's size. He eventually sat horizontally in the room, with one leg hanging outside of the space for his own comfort.

"You're gonna get rid of me again, aren't you?" Omega said.

"What? No. You said you wanted to be with us, I promised you that if you wanted to be with us then you will be with us."

"But I screwed up again," Omega said.

"You said it yourself once, you have a lot to learn. But so do I and I realize I was a bit too harsh today. I'm sorry."

"I can't help that I'm curious sometimes," Omega said, thinking back on how it was her who wanted to pet the anooba.

"I know, but sometimes it's better to watch from afar," Hunter said.

Omega didn't say anything in response. Rather she clutched the Lula.

"I'm not going to get rid of you. We want you here just as much as you want to be here. I'm sorry for bringing up Cut and Suu and I'm just glad you're okay," Hunter said.

To Hunter's surprise, Omega moved closer to him and put her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. Hunter was initially taken aback but he soon returned the hug. When they eventually pulled away from one another, Omega smiled.

"Now let's agree to put what happened today behind us," Hunter said.

"Ok," Omega replied.

Hunter made his way back down the ladder and extended a hand out to Omega,

"wanna come down and hang out with us or explore the ship or do whatever you want?" Hunter asked.

"Sure!" Omega said as she came out of her room and started asked Tech various questions about the ship and the controls. Hunter watched and smiled at seeing Omega feeling a bit better.

[what-goesaround-comesaround]

Let's talk about some Irish newsies-

Hey! So I thought it'd be cool to look into the research I've found indicationg that some of the newsies might have Irish ties! (I'm Irish so that might explain my interest) I'm not an expert at all or anything, this is just the research I've collminated while scouring through newsies facts.

Oh course this isn't set in stone, this is just information I've found so if I've got anything wrong, please tell me! I was inspired by this post to do my own research. (A lot of my research has to do with the original movie but stick around for some fun facts about surnames?)

And now, onto Jack Kelly :

^This is David's description of Jack in Newsies : a novel by Jonathan Fast which can be found here on pg 9. Both surnames "Kelly" and "Sullivan" have their roots in Irish history.

^on pg 27 of the same book David describes Jack again as "an Irish boy". I just thought this would be worth noting, seeing how David wants to make it obvious to us, the reader that Jack appears to be Irish or of Irish descent.

"Kelly", originally anglicized from the Gaelic "Ó Ceallaigh" meaning 'descendant of Ceallach', an ancient Irish personal name, originally a byname meaning 'bright-headed' or 'troublesome' (fitting huh?) Source found here.

Fun fact for you livesies fans, the reigning chieftain of Ui Maine (mid Galway, South Roscommon, sometimes referred to as "O'Kelly's Country") O'Ceallaigh (c1351), was a renowned patron of the arts. Source found here.

Another fun fact : Jack means Seán in Irish.

Bet you weren't expecting that. Or maybe you were. Anyway, source is found here. I also remember it being a topic of conversation in 3rd class Irish class. Wonder how Spot and Jack would feel about that.

^On pg 23 of the original 1992 movie script found here Jack describes himself as a "mick" which was a commonly used derogatory term used against those of Irish decent/Irish immigrants at the time. However this line was not included in the movie. Source found here.

Now for "Sullivan". The original Irish for the surname Sullivan is O'Suileabhain, however the actual derivation of the name is debated. There is no doubt that the root word is 'suil' meaning eye, but whether it is to be taken as 'one-eyed' or 'hawk-eyed' is usually left an open question. Sources found here and here.

The surname is associated with the southwestern part of Ireland and was originally found in County Tipperary before the Anglo-Norman invasion. Source found here

Also, in both movie and stage versions Jack tells us his father "taught me not to starve" indicating his father may have taught Jack about the horrors of the Famine/An Drochshaol/The Great Hunger that plagued Irish families for years after. Source is found here.

Okay! On to Spot Conlon :

^This is David's description of Spot Conlon from the same book, pg 51 (okay he may not outright say he's Irish but they really said "throw all the stereotypes at him like red hair". But seriously in the Hard Promises script and the Newsies script he's described the same way. I guess they really invisioned that red hair huh?)

Spot is interesting seeing as he is the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, Brooklyn being an infamously known place for Irish immigrants to live due to the Great Hunger/An Drochshaol (translated meaning "Hard Times") or as it's more commonly known as "the potato famine" between 1845-1852. Source found here. At least 1 million people died from this and another 1 million immigrated, a lot to America (although the exact numbers are disputed.) Around this time New York becoming the busiest port city in the world. There was labor work to be had in Brooklyn, in the manufacturing and loading and unloading of goods to be sent around the country and around the world. Irish immigrants who had been left poor and malnourished by the famine had no other option but to take on this manual labour to earn money. Many took jobs by the ports and settled by the Watershed i.e. near the ports. This could be a reason to why we're first introduced to Spot and his "cronies" at the port in the movie. Source is found here and here.

Supposing Spot was born between 1880-1886 (he's quoted to be 14 in real life in this article however it's stated in the Newsies Novel on pg 51 to "be around Jack's age" and it's stated in original script before Newsies was rewritten to be a musical and was still a drama, "Hard Promises" he's quoted to be 19 on pg 28. So take this with a grain of salt.) the U.S. census, which counted both place of birth and parents’ birth place as well, estimated that one-third of all New Yorkers were of Irish parentage. By 1890 as Brooklyn neighborhoods were expanding east and south, the amount of people with Irish stock is at 196,372. Source found here.

Also how people will usually use the name "Seán" or sometimes "Patrick" for Spot (one of the fandom wiki pages cites it as his real name here but admits to having no proof of it). Both of these are traditional Irish first names, Patrick being popularised by the patron saint of Ireland St. Patrick/Pádraig. Might have heard of it-

Now for his surname.

Conlon is an Irish family name, it being a variation of the anglicised version of Ó Connalláin. The name may be derived from two Irish Gaelic words "Con" (the genitive case of Cú, meaning "hound") and "Lón" meaning lion - thereby implying a person who has the characteristics of a lion born of a hound - strength and speed. Source found here.

Conlon had a Gaelic form of Ó Conallain or Ó Coinghiollan in Connacht however it's Ó Caoindealbhain in Munster and Leinster. Fun fact, Connal or Connall is claimed to be a pet name for a sprout or little sprout. Source found here.

The history regarding the Conlon surname is complicated to say the least- however it can be traced back to County Meath, where the Conlon descendants are from an important sept near Trim, which traces back to Laoghaire, King of Ireland circa 432. O'Coindealbhain was also anglicised 'Quinlivan' in Munster. Source is found here and here.

This post isn't letting me include the video of Jack, David and Boots going to Brooklyn to negotiate with Spot and the Irish traditional music in the background but I'll make a separate post about that.

Now, onto Racetrack Higgins.

I'm going to keep this kind of brief. We know Racetrack is described as "tall, skinny gambling Italian beanpole" in the Hard Promises script on pg 1 and he's described as "an Italian beanpole" on pg 5 of the Newsies Script. However the surname "Higgins" is Irish as far as my research has told me, not Italian.

The real Ed "Racetrack" Higgins lived in Brooklyn and is quoted to be the real leader of the Brooklyn union, and was elected vice-president of the general union after Kid Blink and David Simmons were accused of selling out. Source found here. I haven't been able to find much information about Racetrack Higgin's life after the strike or his family life which could connect him to Ireland however I thought it would be interesting. If anyone is curious about the real Racetrack Higgins this source has been really useful!

'Higgins" is an Irish family name with ancient royal connections. It is an anglicisation of O'hUigin, from the Irish word 'uiginn' meaning Viking. The original holder of the name was a grandson of Niall of the Nine Hostages, High King of Tara, and all of the O'Higgins claim a common descent from him. Ancient records show that several members of the O'Higgins claimed a hereditary right to be file or poet in the courts of the Irish Chiefs and Kings. Source is found here and here.

Because of their loyalty to Gaelic culture and religion, the Higgins suffered under the English Crown in Ireland and had lost all their lands in Sligo and Westmeath by 1654. Some of them remained in Ireland as tenants on their own lands, but many of them migrated to Spain where they achieved high office in the service of the King. Source is found here.

Fun fact, Racetrack has the same surname as the current (9th) President of Ireland, Michael D. Higgins!

Lastly, on to Crutchy/ie Morris!

^This is from the 1991 original script of Newsies when it was called Hard Promises and was written to be a drama. Obviously this wasn't the movie that we have today but I thought this would be a cool add on. I couldn't find a lot of information about the real Crutch Morris, whom Crutchy/ie is based on. The surname Morris isn't strictly Irish, it's a popular surname throughout the British Isles however with this piece of information I thought it would make sense to research it anyway.

"Morris" (Ó Muiris in Irish) was introduced to Ireland by the Normans, along with the variant Firzmaurice (Mac Muiris). A branch of these Morrises moved to Galway in 1485 CE and later became one of the Tribes Of Galway. The name may also have been an abbreviation of Morrissey (Ó Muireasa), a branch of the Uí Fiachrach clan. Sources found here and here.

The ancient Irish name Ó Muirgheasa (variant Ó Muirghis), a personal name thought to derive from muir, meaning "sea" and geas, meaning "taboo" or "prohibition." Source found here.

The Morris family does have an Irish family crest/coat of arms which I'll post at a later date, further cementing themselves in Irish history.

This is most of the information I have regarding the origins of the characters and their surnames however I could go on about the music in Newsies, the family crests, the housing circumstances of poor Irish immigrants in New York at the turn of the 19th century ect.

If you want to learn more about what life was like for Irish immigrants in New York I recommend reading the non-fiction book The Gangs Of New York (or watching the movie. It isn't completely historically accurate but give a decent overview of what was life) or reading this article by the Irish Times.

I've barely scratched the surface of this topic and hope to go into it father in the future!

May I leave you with this gif of the boys doing some Irish (inspired) dancing and David with his twirl combo!

Ps. If the links aren't working for you I'd be happy to provide a list of the resources I’ve used throughout my research on a separate post if needs be.

pps. @maggs-is-a-muppet @annihilatedthenightstalker @newsies-bun @letter-from-the-refuge thanks for the motivation last night 😌

[annaofthenorthernlights]

It´s your life

Chapter 7 (last one)

our life...

Word counting: 2861

Previous chapters (AO3)

Summary: Anna had just handed in her change of address at the college´s administration office and was now heading towards home. Nervousness started to stir within her, when she was overthinking the Professor´s introduction about examination starting within a few weeks.

Note: I´m not acquainted with studying law. Therefore, I took some information from the internet about preparing yourself for the law-finals (https://www.barbri.com/law-school-final-exams-tips/#expect). It surely is not very profound, but then the study topic is not meant to be plot centred. Still it is a part of Anna´s path at the moment.

Anna had just handed in her change of address at the college´s administration office and was now heading towards home. Nervousness started to stir within her, when she was overthinking the Professor´s instruction about examination starting within four weeks.

Professor Olsen had been clear. They would have to get their thoughts straight at his question (the case issue). Organization is critical to writing a strong essay answer. After all, if he couldn´t follow their analysis, how could he grade it fairly and appropriately?

All in all, Anna knew she was basically well prepared. Kristoff had made sure that she would not brood over finding a job at this time of semester but focus on her books. She would get all the time she needed after writing her essays and then finally receiving her certificate. He had encouraged her not to worry, because he was convinced, she would find some nice occupation in no-time. So, the race towards the end of this semester made her realise of how far she had already come. At the same time, it was a start into a new world, she had yet to discover. And she would. Anna couldn´t wait to launch in.

Anna smiled to herself. After these few days in her new home, she had felt more at ease and comforted than ever before in her life. She still wondered secretly about that little purple box. But then, Anna was super proud not having peeped in yet…

She had just turned into the road that led to the carpentry when her mobile rang. It was Susan, Sven´s sister.

“Hey Susan! What´s up?”

“Hi Anna! Say, are you still looking for a job?”

“Well, yes. Why, would you ask?”

“You know the elementary school where I´m teaching?” Susan exclaimed all excited. “Well, guess what?!”

“What is it?” Anna got curious and listened eagerly.

“Our principal´s secretary has just announced today that she´ll be leaving us by the end of the month. Now, Mr. Oaken is at the end of his nerves already because he´s terrified not having anyone at his side by the time Lucy, the secretary, will be gone. When I got notified about the disaster, I told him to relax! Becaaause, I have THE woman at hand!”

Anna had come to a halt by now and blinked a few times. Had she heard correctly? Susan was suggesting her to take over a complete school´s administration office?

“Susan, that´s so kind of you. But are you sure? I mean, I have never….”

“Oh, come on, Anna, you must be kidding. Hey sweety, you are about to become a certified lawyer. Correspondence of all sorts with parents and community plus supervising some kids will be no deal to you. Besides, a secretary with knowledge of legal business is just the icing on the cake of it all. Why don´t you come over tomorrow afternoon and have a look. You will like Mr. Oaken and he is eager to meet you!”

******

“Living Rock” was an elementary school, situated at the other side of town. Kids of all sorts and various families attended the neat little place.

Anna´s visit had been a pleasant occasion, with a great deal of questions about her hobbies and personal interests. According to Mr. Oaken it was important to get to know someone on his or her personal interests, because that´s what this person would be about. Mr. Oaken had been a sight to himself. Anna had been fascinated first sight about the giant and broad fellow with his Nordic cardigan (albeit the already warm weather) and bunch of curly red hair.

He had been kind and Lucy was showing her around and explaining this and that about her duties. All in all, it sounded like Anna could handle. Susan had showed up and winked mischievously, welcoming her already to the team of “Living Rock”.

So, when Anna left the schoolyard, she carried the signed contract copy within her handbag, starting at the beginning of next month. That would be two days after her exams. Mr. Oaken had not cared if she would be possessing a passed certificate or not. He intended to listen to his intuition and that signed him very well to engage the vivid and genuine redhaired girl.

She couldn´t wait to tell Kristoff. He had been so encouraging the day before. He had been certain that she would know “within her” if this employment would be right for her. If only she would not rush into it because she felt like having to. No, she had not. Anna was sure, she could do a good job there. For one, the job description was various and contained not only paperwork, but personal contact to parents and kids in the first place. That´s what she was intrigued about. Then, her studies would indeed be of help when it came to handle complaints or even accusations.

So, when Anna practically stormed the workshop´s office, Kristoff grinned at her, already knowing. Susan had messaged Sven, and he had told his friend of course. Anna was disappointed and felt like the surprise being spoiled. But then, Kristoff had got up from his chair and taken her into his arms, telling her how proud he was of her and that they should celebrate this good news.

It was just another sweet moment where Anna felt confirmed in her new life and that made her sinking into those strong arms just a little bit more….

*****

The day of Anna´s exams came rapidly by now. Kristoff drove her to the campus, promising to wait outside in the late afternoon. It made her smile, knowing that the reason for her new chosen life was him and only him alone. Anna leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, murmuring a genuine “thank you”, just to leave the car without thinking to much about what was to come.

She surveyed and analysed the given case and started her essay with the best plan she could make up in the given time. She got asked to set a defending plan for the accused, just as well as for the accuser. And then, according to the law, how would she describe the judge responding to the presented plaidoyers?

Luckily, she could go on with the spoken exam in the same afternoon, not needing to come in on another day. Professor Olsen had always been a patient but clear teacher. He disliked talking around the bush, so Anna headed into her spoken plaidoyers for both sides the moment he had asked her for it. She didn´t have much time, so she had to summon up best she could, despite having so much on her mind that seemed important to add. But a plaidoyer was meant to be cut short to the minimum facts and pleading for reason.

“Well, Miss Rendelle,” Prof. Olsen began, after she was done, “I will not keep in mind of which family you come from. This is my professional opinion about your performed debate. Surely you like people, one can tell. You´re passionate about your clients getting treated the best way possible. That´s a positive source, that unfortunately can get you into trouble. In our profession, you better leave your heart enclosed beyond the cases and keep a neutral line towards your client, no matter if accused or accuser.”

Anna tried to blink her tears away. Hadn´t she assumed it already? She must have screwed it all up… “Thank you, Professor Olsen. Yes, I do like people. And I think that´s why I can´t do this. You see, because I like people, I´d rather work at the school´s administration and then encourage parents and teachers to raise the kids to the most positive of life, so they would never get into the situation where they need a lawyer.” She pressed her hot tears away, overwhelmed by her exhaustion and only tired of this dreadful moment. “If you could please tell me if I have clearly failed, so that I can leave now and head back into my real life again?!” She wiped her tears away, smiling faintly at the older opposite.

Professor Olsen weighed her words and understood. “Whatever you will be up to, Miss Rendelle, I truly wish you all the best and a good lot of success. According to your spoken exam, I expect your written essay to turn out just as fine. So, for now, I hope you can live with a B-?”

As soon as Anna entered the parking area, she´d spot the beloved Pickup and Kristoff leaning against it. She made her way over and when he sighted her coming, he went to meet her on the way. Anna had told herself to control her emotions, but upon coming closer the dam would break and tears started to spill. Kristoff halted for a moment, scared of what might had happened. But Anna just launched forward and practically flew at him, clinging to his waist and burrying her face into his chest.

They stood a while and Kristoff would not say anything but hold her tight and caressing her back with one hand. After a felt eternity Anna would relax and breath evenly and loosen her grip, looking up to her boyfriend with a faint smile. She had made it and should be fine. That was all that mattered for now.

And on their drive home, she would tell Kristoff about the case and her attempt to do her best. She would tell him about her answer to the Professor and that she couldn´t wait to get to her new job which beheld a sensible purpose.

Kristoff had listened to her for a while and could not help but pull over at some point to park the car. He turned in his seat to pay all his attention to her retelling of the day. His breast swelled with pride of what his sweetheart had achieved in those hours. He would tell her, but first, she had to let it all out!

“I´m so happy this is over for now and to face the path I´ve chosen. Do you think that´s all unrealistic or will I make it?”

Kristoff smiled and reached to cup her cheek with his hand and lean closer to her. “Anna, I´m so proud of you and I know you´ll be great. I´ve told you before and I believe in you! Go ahead and do what you think is right. And in case, it turns out not to be, you´ll figure it out. And if you let me be part of it, it will make me even happier!”

Anna gasped and put her hand over his and pressing a kiss to his palm. “Yes, of course!”

*****

Anna felt light-hearted and checked in the mirror a last time. Her sunflower summer dress looked pretty and flowy and her hair fell nicely around her shoulders. She grabbed her pumps and headed to the living room, answering her ringing mobile.

“Hey Anna! Congrats, well done!” Elsa called to give her sister credit to her achievement.

“Hi Elsa!” Anna chirped, fully in good mood. “Congrats on what?”

“Your passed spoken exam today, silly!”

Now, Anna was bewildered for a moment, but it dawned on her, that the Professor must have called at Rendelle Estate soon after her spoken test. “Thanks, Elsa. I´m glad it´s over. I think I did okay. Though, surely not with merit. Surpriiiise!”

“Come on, Anna!” Elsa sounded disappointed, but still encouraging in her way. “I´m proud of you. I know it was a hard time for you. So, enjoy the results and I hope you get a nice treat for all the effort?”

“Well yes, thank you. Kristoff is about to take me out for dinner. So, we´re practically off… Hey Elsa, please greet Grandpa for me, will you?”

“Yes, I will. He´s proud you did it, you know? And Anna, don´t forget, you can always come back, remember?”

“Yes, Elsa, I know that. But you know the conditions, and that won´t work. So… please take care and we´ll meet soon, yes? Because you don´t have to worry about any acusations. I got a job and can provide for myself. But I´d love to see you sometimes!”

“Yes, Anna. We´ll do that. Off you go now and enjoy your evening! Greetings to Kristoff.”

Anna laid her mobile on the desk and sat down on the chair to put on her shoes, all in thought. She hadn´t talked to her sister in a long time and was glad that she could now face Elsa without needing to rely on her help or advice. She was heading on her own life. It felt strange, but a good strange.

Kristoff was still occupied in the bathroom and Anna´s eyes stared at the drawer. She would need only a second… But she shouldn´t… And when Anna pulled at the handle her eyes widened for a second with a slight shock that sent a bolt into her chest.

The little box was gone…

*****

Anna felt guilty first when Kristoff had appeared ready to go. But then, she scolded herself for being nosy and decided to enjoy the following treat.

They had eaten at their favourite Italian restaurant and enjoyed the familiar atmosphere. Nothing fancy, but cosy and friendly. It was such a welcoming change, to chat about this and that, without the deadline pressure lurking over her. Anna felt the urge to thank Kristoff just one more time for his support and love. She would not know how to have succeeded otherwise. He had faintly shaken his head and confirmed that had been nothing. Of course, he was so considerate and respectful, had always been.

So, they raised their glass of red wine to lavish in each other’s friendship!

Before sunset, they had driven up the hills and parked the Pickup overlooking the valley. Kristoff heaved Anna on the loading area (which he had cleaned and washed thoroughly during the afternoon). He remained standing and Anna was wondering why he would not join to be sitting next to her. He still held her hands, looked like he was thinking about something. He took a deep breath, just to tell her to hang on a second. Then, he disappeared around the car to the front, opening and closing the glove box and came back to her.

With one hand he took hers while the other was behind his back. For some reason, Anna got all nervous and within her abdomen it felt like a swarm of bees swirling around. She tried hard not to bubble some unintelligible nonsense and sat all still, waiting.

Kristoff cleared his throat and took another deep breath, all the while rubbing his thumb along her fingers.

“Anna, there is something I wanted to ask you already such a long time ago. But then, it never felt right for some reason. There was so much for you to decide, and I was so proud how you took your steps towards your freedom. I didn´t want to interfere with your newfound life. But now… I hope you understand… I have this for you…”

He then showed what he got for her… a little purple gift box!

There it was – he hadn´t forgotten – he had waited for the right moment!Anna was overwhelmed and gasped excitedly. She took the little box (finally) in her hands and, with a reassuring glance to Kristoff, she opened it carefully. There was a cute golden ring with a tiny orange stone on top, surrounded by little leaves, looking like an autumn star. Now, all got kind of blurred, and Anna had to concentrate on the words that came dreamingly to her hears, from somewhere far…

“Anna. You´re the most wonderful person I have known all my life. I love you from the bottom of my heart. All I can think of is to be with you for the rest of my life, if you want that, too. Anna, will you marry me?”

By now, she had to blink away the mingling tears, and she would not know what there was to say, so all Anna could do was to exclaim a loud “Yes!” and throw herself into Kristoff´s arms! They would cling to each other and laugh and cry all at the same time. And when he lowered her down, they kissed and embraced this intimate moment.

And when they sat on the loading area again, and Anna would admire this wonderful jewellery on her finger, all seemed so peaceful and like time had come to a short halt – just for them – just for this special moment.

“You remember how you urged me to think of my life as my own, on our way to Disneyland?” Anna mused.

“Yes, of course. And it still is.” Kristoff confirmed.

“I know,” Anna remarked, looking up to him, “but I´d rather like to call it "our life" now. Would that suit you?”

Kristoff smiled. Yes, it would! And to seal this wonderful idea, they kissed again.

And because it was such a mild evening, they lowered themselves and went on to live out their love!

*****

Note:This was it for now… I hope you liked it 😊. I´m thinking about going on with a short sequel, having Anna getting acquainted with her new job and “their life”…

[mewtonian-physics]

An Honest Review of Nancy Drew: Treasure in the Royal Tower

Spoilers under the cut!

Hi! Penny (not that one) here with the next installment of my Nancy Drew game reviews!

In case you haven’t seen the previous reviews, a quick overview of how I’ll be doing this:

I’m going to include several different factors in my review of each game. First, the plot; obvious enough. The plot is, after all, the driving force behind the game. I’ll also be talking about what I think of the characters, as well as how fun it is to play/replay, and the general atmosphere/setting of the game too. And, of course, I’ll talk about my opinions of the music. I’m not going to be doing any ratings or anything like that, no numbers will be coming into these reviews; I’m just going to say my honest thoughts. (Even when they are not nice thoughts.)

Please remember that these reviews will be my entirely subjective opinions! If you disagree with me on any points, that’s absolutely your prerogative, and in fact, I’d love to discuss it with you and hear some perspectives aside from my own. These reviews are not meant to hurt or invalidate anyone’s feelings, but only to put forth my own.

So without further ado, my review of Treasure in the Royal Tower!

Plot

The plot for this one is pretty neat! I literally never gave a single fuck about the French Revolution until I played this game, and now... Well, I do now. Not much of one, because it is still history, but I do. This one kicks off what will soon become a staple of the series--‘Nancy goes on vacation and discovers a mystery!’ This time it’s in a... a castle. In Wisconsin. I would really like to know why anyone would put a castle specifically in Wisconsin. If there’s anyone from Wisconsin reading this, please let me know what it is about your state that makes it the ideal location for a castle. I am genuinely curious. Honestly the entire location feels a little bit weird, like, why is this castle also a ski lodge? But I go to the same place basically every time I go on vacation, so maybe my experience is just too limited. Anyway, Nancy finds out that the library was vandalized, and because she’s Nancy fucking Drew, she immediately has to figure out who, how, and why. (What, when, and where were already covered.) This somehow turns into a hunt for a diamond that belonged to Marie Antoinette (except it didn’t actually, most of the backstory here was entirely made up) that takes Nancy into corners of the castle that by all means should no longer exist, to find clues that also should no longer exist, since the entire castle was taken apart piece by piece in order to be moved to Wisconsin, meaning that the diamond, or at the very least the clues leading to it, would have been found during the dismantling and reassembly of the castle. Suspension of disbelief, I guess. Despite all of the questions that arise during play, it is still an entertaining plot. 

Characters

This game boasts the proud title of being the first game in the series to include an actual character arc! Seriously, the characters in this game are pretty great, although it’s two in particular that really stand out. First of all, we have Dexter Egan--a bitter, resentful old man whose adoptive father, Ezra Wickford, was quite frankly a piece of shit. What kind of parent keeps a scrapbook of every time their kid fucked up? Hello? And then he just disowns him, just like that? I’m not mad or anything. But you can really see why Dexter turned out how he did. Any parent who keeps a literal record of their child’s wrongdoings is undoubtedly going to mess up their kid quite a bit. Anyway, Dexter gets some pretty great development over the course of the game. I’m proud of him.

The second standout character is, of course, Professor Beatrice Hotchkiss! A smart, funny, slightly airheaded icon who quickly became one of my favorite recurring characters. How could she not, when she orders fifty chicken drumsticks (cluck cluck) practically ten minutes after her introduction? And that’s only the beginning! She also serves as an invaluable source of help during the rest of the game, and during the other games she appears in. High five, Team Hotchkiss!

Gameplay

The gameplay in this one is generally pretty good, although it can get kind of tedious at times. (I should have only had to open that door ONCE!) I honestly don’t have a lot of comments to make here. I’m not a fan of how easy it is to get completely lost in the castle, even though I know it adds to the experience... But it bugs me. Still, it’s nice to be moving on from the days of ‘here’s this area you can look at, it will literally never be important in the slightest’, y’know?

Atmosphere

I like the atmosphere of this game a lot! Admittedly I have no idea what Wisconsin is like, I have never been to Wisconsin, but I have been stuck inside during a snowstorm and this game captures that feeling quite well, if you ask me! Which you kind of are, since you’re reading my review. The castle (especially the room with the fireplace) has such a lovely, cozy feeling. I love walking by Professor Hotchkiss’s door to hear her typing, it just adds to the calming effect. I’d love to get a book or two from the library (you know, if it wasn’t vandalized) and just go sit by the fire and read for a while! Also, some of the more secret areas have this delightfully old and kind of spooky feeling, while the Queen’s Tower itself... It’s very ostentatious, as expected, but there’s also something majestic about it, too. All in all, this game did REALLY well here.

Music

Oh, the music. The music. What could I ever hope to say about the music? It’s absolute perfection. The more old-fashioned style enhances the plot so much. The songs themselves run the gamut from calming to intense, from sadness to triumphant majesty, and the use of repeated motifs throughout several of the tracks really ties the whole soundtrack together. I truly do not believe it is possible to improve the music for this game at all. This soundtrack is a work of art, and I don’t say that lightly.

Conclusion

This game is incredible. The plot, the characters, the atmosphere, the music--it all ties together so well that a bit of slightly tedious gameplay isn’t nearly enough to bring it down. It is without a doubt my favorite game in the first five, and might even be my favorite in the first ten. I would not hesitate a moment to recommend this game, as I truly believe that it is an absolutely vital play for any fan of the series. At the very least, go listen to the soundtrack. Go listen to it right now.

See you next time, when I review game #5: The Final Scene!

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

That rp sounds really interesting! Do you mind going into a little more context? You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm rather curious!

I’m fine talking about it ! Lemme put that under a read more, since it’s going to be pretty long. Also yeah, there are some mentions of torture and violence, some artworks related to that, so if it’s not your cup of tea, I’d advise not to read more. I mean it.

Okay, so the main characters are Lukas (written by @fedoraspooky) and Morgan Jareth (written by me). I have more details regarding the latter since, well, I’m the one writing him, so........ Yeah, I might add more details to him.

Lukas is an alternate version of Spooky’s weresnoodle AU. Instead of having been cursed like in the original AU, here, he was kidnapped by a secret organization and his DNA was changed throught painful and humiliating experiments.

Morgan Jareth was born as a “supernatural” creature, whose powers awoke during his childhood. So yeah, he was kidnapped during his childhood, and his death was faked so no one would look for him.

Basically, he’s part human/part spider, and can create portals to access a particular dimension, called the Horizon (yes I was inspired by SCP 106 for this particular power). He eats humans and his powers allows him to break out of his cell rather easily. He’s a COMPLETE psychopath, he’s a very sadistic person, he isn’t afraid of being punished for his behaviour (he’s already dead inside, as you might say). Since he’s very dangerous and known to kill very easily anyone he encounters, he’s left without much stimulation in his cell, except for the preys given by the scientists to feed him. In any case, he spends most of his time in his alternate dimension. It is only in this dimension that he can turn full spider mode, as you can see in this particular ref sheet I made for him.

When he’s in the human world, only some part of his body can change. For example, he has eyes appearing on his body, the ends of his limbs becoming grey, his fangs becoming longer... Otherwise, in his fully “human” form, here’s what he looks like, basically (featuring one of his portals).

So yeah, what happens is that one day, when Morgan causes a containment breach, he cuts the power of the facility, opening the doors of all the cells (to distract the guards with other aggressive creatures). The thing is, it also opens Lukas’s cell, which is a few levels above Morgan’s (the most dangerous specimens are at the bottom of the facility).

When trying to flee the facility, Lukas eventually runs into Morgan, who doesn’t know immediately that Lukas is an experiment too, except for the fact that they both wear the same medical gown. Morgan first tries to attack him in order to eat him as some kind of snack, but the guards interrupt him, forcing Morgan to retreat in the Horizon, while Lukas is taken by the guards. Morgan doesn’t let that happen for very long and catches Lukas through a portal and takes him into his dimension, with a guard that was unlucky enough not to let go off Lukas.

Long story short, Morgan is in full spider mode, the guard dies very painfully, and Lukas, showing various signs of transformation (linked to his stress), gets Morgan’s full attention and interest. Eventually, Morgan takes a very obsessive interest in Lukas, and decides to keep him as a plaything, or some kind of pet (Morgan has VERY LITTLE respect for humans, he sees them as food and disgusting beings, and another supernatural being is just above that, like a pet to him).

Since his plan of escaping is compromised by the guards being more prepared than what he had first thought, he just decides to cause more chaos and more death before being punished and before coming back to ““play”“ with Lukas. So Lukas ends up tied up to a red spider web while Morgan leaves the Horizon. By using his powers, without actually knowing how to use them, Lukas manages to escape by burning the webs he’s tied to (and thus eventually Morgan’s entire nest) and manages to leave this nightmarish dimension through an artificial portal set up by the scientists.

After being captured and suffering from his usual punishments for escaping, Morgan does come back to his dimension as planned... Only to find out that his nest has been destroyed and that Lukas is not there anymore. So yeah, he... Is absolutely livid and WANTS his revenge (he hates losing, he’s very prideful). So he offers a deal to the scientists, one they can’t refuse : “let me have him and I will stop escaping and killing any of you”. Since Morgan is a real source of trouble and, well, DEATH, they arrange some conditions with him, the most important one is not to kill Lukas (since he’s important to them as a specimen).That’s not a problem to Morgan, since killing Lukas is not what he has planned. But making him suffer and pay ? Oh definitely.

So ““playdates”“ are organized between Morgan and Lukas, to the greatest horror of the latter. Morgan mostly taunts and teases Lukas in them. Both are (in normal circumstances) unable to hurt the other : Morgan has a turret gun targetting him and Lukas has a shock collar, preventing him from provoking Morgan and, thus, making the latter go berserk. Although, when Lukas does provoke Morgan or try to hurt him despite the shock collar, the scientists give more freedom to Morgan, who... Well, takes a very, very cruel and twisted pleasure in hurting Lukas.

That leads to various tortures, some physical and some psychological. One of them, for example, has Morgan breaking some of Lukas’s fingers. Yeah, I told you about the violence, this RP is pretty dark. Here’s the artwork I’m currently working on, related to that particular part of the RP.

Other times, Morgan will like to hunt Lukas down in the Horizon, as some kind of predator/prey game he enjoys very much (plot twist : Lukas DOES NOT enjoy those, unsurprisingly ahaha)

That’s the story so far, and yeah, Lukas does NOT have a good time in this AU (though it does have a good ending, and the part inside the facility is just the half of this RP, since Spooky and I planned an after-story outside of the facility).

I hope I replied to your ask well !

[elmidol]

Error: Program Not Found - Five

Summary:  You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3

“Fall seven times, stand up eight.” - Japanese proverb

 Five: Morale

 TeeArr’s new arm was not a different color than the old one, however it offered that impression due to its newness. Light reflected off its surface more freely than the dulled exterior of the droid’s other limbs. You made a note to have the protocol droid properly bathed. Had the maintenance lead not been so caught up in admonishing and berating you for TeeArr’s constant critiques on his work, the man would have done his job more thoroughly and the task would have already been completed. Listening to him had been exasperating enough that you had failed to take into account that TeeArr would not have been bathed. Rolling your eyes, you let yourself remember the expression on the man’s face. He had been ticked. Riled up. Stating what TeeArr had been doing only to be corrected by the protocol droid over one of the finer details of the situation they had shared. You snorted at that.

 “I see nothing funny here,” TeeArr said. His head turned one way then the next, no doubt in an attempt to discover your source of amusement. There was nothing in the hallway for him to discover aside from the normal closed doors, mouse droids, and First Order personnel.

 You waved your hand, wagging it back and forth after bending your elbow to raise the limb partway towards your face. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you later.” TeeArr gave the droid equivalent of an exasperated sigh. He had charged while you had slept a few hours after you had retrieved him from the maintenance lead. A new shift was set to start in under an hour, and your plan was to arrive first to continue repairing the training droids. The team would be no different than the previous cycle. Kylo Ren was present again as well, you noticed upon entering the training area.

 Droids that were in later stages of repair had been placed into a separate section in the room than the ones you had yet to work on. Kylo Ren, wearing his full outfit to include hood and mask, stood beside the pile. His back was to you, but that did not stop you from realizing that he was inspecting the droids. You were unsure if it was due to impatience or if he was merely curious as to what modifications had been made. Superior materials had been brought in; that had been one area that you and the maintenance lead had not clashed.

 TeeArr was not oblivious to Kylo Ren’s attendance. He was, however, thankfully more tactful when addressing him. “Ah! Commander Ren. You will be pleased to know that my arm has been fully restored. I can now assist in repairing these droids.” Kylo Ren slowly turned around. The action felt delayed enough that you blinked to ensure you weren’t imagining movement. As your eyelids lifted, Kylo pointed his mask in your direction. You gave an awkward wave. “And it is just as well. Did you know that some of your First Order employees utilize their work datapads for unprofessional functions?”

 Kylo Ren offered his full attention to TeeArr. Your eyes started to widen, and you recognized that you were growing nervous when you felt your leg muscles tensing. This was not a time to have a repeat of the previous day.

 “Indeed, sir. Despite the limited memory on their datapads, some of the technicians and mechanics stash a sealed folder of holovids that add nothing to the furtherment of the First Order’s goals.”

 “Oh,” you said though you had not been the one TeeArr had been addressing. “Humor helps keep morale up.”

 TeeArr turned its head to look at you. “I will never understand humans. Nakedness as--”

 “Wait!” You held up your hands, waving both of them back and forth to silence TeeArr, who for once listened immediately.

 Kylo Ren took a step in your direction. You dropped your hands, began to sputter out an apology for the inappropriate conversation, and found that your tongue did not want to work. Clearing your throat, you were ready to try again when Kylo Ren paused only a foot away from you. Sometimes you forgot just how tall he was.

 “Your droid has such filthy preoccupations.” You swallowed hard. There was no anger in his tone, and his hands were not clenched. In terms of Kylo Ren body language, he was approachable. You repeated what he had said, specifically his choice of words, in your head. As when General Hux had caught you off guard, you found your face growing warm. “Is that what you discuss with it?” You did not discuss sex with droids.

 Before you could properly respond to his question, the door to the training room slid open and Kylo Ren took a step away from you. Only a single step, yet the distance felt greater. Your mind took a moment to register why this was. His fingers had curled towards his palms into loose fists. Less approachable now. He did not wish to speak so freely, or be spoken to quite openly, when there were others besides you in the room. This struck you as odd. You had never before allowed yourself time to consider that Kylo Ren might view you as anything other than a programmer. His actions, subtle as they were, could not slip your notice now.

 It rang true that familiarity could allow one to naturally lower their defenses. You did not consider yourself to be friends with Kylo Ren. On that same note, you did not fear him quite as much as others did, and you were aware that he respected your work. This easily translated into personal respect. More when you thought of the limited social contact he appeared to have.

 Looking away from Kylo Ren, you greeted the female mechanic that walked into the room. Her eyes darted from Kylo to you. You assumed that, like you, she had arrived with the intention of starting work a little early. Which meant that she had not expected anyone else to be in the room, not to mention Kylo Ren of all people. TeeArr, despite being a droid, could sometimes read a room. This rang true when he realized that the woman had not moved any closer to the droids that she had come to repair. TeeArr grabbed hold of one of the badly damaged pieces and walked over to her. She startled at that, offered her gratitude, and took the droid to begin work.

 You lowered yourself into a comfortable sitting position to do likewise. Several of the programs that you had altered for the droids were more to the copy/paste stage once you deleted lines of coding that they currently possessed. What was most time consuming with this was that you had to link your datapad to each droid individually. This was not something that TeeArr would have been able to assist you with, and so you found yourself suddenly grateful that the mechanic had arrived to keep the droid occupied. Otherwise who knows what conversation TeeArr might have ventured to have with Kylo Ren.

 Connecting the first training droid with your datapad, you were reminded that some of them had different programming than others. Their systems were bogged down with erroneous codes and unnecessary data.

 Kylo Ren picked up one of the droids from the pile on the opposite side of the room. You divided your attention between your work and what he was doing. None of the droids had been given a proper test to check if their functions had improved. It was technically not quite safe for someone to conduct such a test with the method that Kylo Ren had chosen to use. That is, turning them on and drawing the hilt of his lightsaber from off his belt. The nearest exit was too far from your position to correctly dart out of it before the training droid fired its first blast. You jumped in place. The hiss of the lightsaber igniting was practically drowned out by the way its plasma blade deflected the blast. Such speed was not natural, you thought.

 Perhaps that’s the allure of the Force, you reminded yourself.

 A second then third bolt were sent away without hitting their target as Kylo Ren flexed his wrist. The small strokes caught your eye. Training droids were programmed to learn from those they trained. The most basic of programming was no match for one of Kylo Ren’s skill. Which had you considering doing research into newer attack methods to offer a better variety. It would be much the same as how you hoped to handle the physical therapy droids should they be approved. Geared towards the individual, in this case programmed with increased speed and more feints. There were rumors that Jedi, and perhaps Sith, had once used modified droids. Yet it was also said that the Jedi and Sith had never existed. It all depended upon who you spoke with.

 You did believe that they had once existed, and Kylo Ren’s presence reaffirmed this belief. The red plasma blade arced through the air at a leisurely pace. The droid did not dodge in time. Wincing, you were already mouthing a swear before Kylo Ren looked in your direction.

 “Does it recognize that its casing is heavier?”

 Thicker, you thought in correction. Then found yourself pursing your lips when he sliced through the droid like butter with his blade. “That is not helpful.” TeeArr’s voice mingled with your own, which produced an echo effect that gave you pause. When you continued speaking three seconds later, it was only your voice that sounded. “Not to be disrespectful.”

 “Do you keep a hidden folder on your datapad?” Kylo Ren said by way of countering. Your eyes darted to the mechanic only for you to discover that she had put on headgear to help her focus on her work. You should have realized by the change in his behavior that your interactions were not being so readily observed by the other party. “That isn’t quite helpful either...not for your job.”

 “It-it-it’s for morale!”

 “Oh?”

 The heat that had enveloped your face grew in intensity. “Funny holovids. Not...not that.” TeeArr, ever helpful, decided to elaborate on the fact that the content was largely animal-based. As though disappointed by this revelation, Kylo Ren returned his focus on the pile of partially repaired droids. You narrowed your eyes and bristled while observing him lift up another. He was your superior, you reminded yourself, much to your displeasure. You did not frequently dislike working for him. And, in many ways, the droids were for more than just him. That did not change the fact that you were presently displeased with being involved in this project.

 To take a page out of the other woman’s book, you grabbed hold of headgear that had been left by one of the other workers and slid it over your ears. That drowned out the sound of whatever training Kylo Ren had decided to participate in. Training and destruction, predominately the latter. Your fingers began to fly across the keys as you input the instructions for the programming change in the droids. TeeArr walked to and from the two piles of droids. He was following the commands of the other female, and you did not take offense to the fact that she had failed to ask you permission to use your droid. It was better she use him than Kylo Ren.

 Three more of the training droids were quick to have corrections on their programming, while the fourth that you encountered had encryptions that most definitely should not have been there. Your thoughts flashed briefly to the folders that TeeArr had mentioned in regards to pornographic holovids then to your own critter shorts. Other hidden files could be program-based. Spyware. This was not something that you recalled encountering on your previous inspections of the droids, and you distinctly remembered going over each droid one by one. It was tedious work to be certain, but you were not one to allow these flaws to slip through the cracks.

 And the droid that Kylo Ren destroyed should not have behaved as poorly as it did. You drummed four fingers on your leg in thought. “Commander?” There was no response. You repeated the title, looking up to find that he was already standing in front of you. You grabbed hold of the headgear to remove it and set the item to your right. “What channels must I go through to have security feed reviewed?”

 “There is no need. You’ve passed the test.”

 What the kriff did that mean? The question would have been apparent on your face given how a low chuckle escaped the vocoder.

 “It was requested that your performance be reviewed given how poorly these droids functioned.” You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that you had been pulled off the assignment prematurely. That would have done you no good, and would have served only to have given Kylo Ren either a laugh or a headache. “I know that you are thorough.” He squatted down in front of you, prompting you to sit straighter. “Perhaps you should be rewarded.”

 By your next inhalation, he had already pulled away from you and was standing to his full height. You glanced past him. As you had expected, the other female was wrapping up work on the droid that she had been preoccupied with. Kylo Ren’s guard was up again. Her headgear, however, had not been removed.

 “Perhaps more holovids for your morale.”

 His teasing was flirtatious, that much you were beginning to recognize.

 “Uhm… That isn’t necessary.” His stare lingered on you for another moment before Kylo Ren turned away and walked towards the exit of the room. You watched him. Wondered if this behavior was something that you should address then wondered if all the droids had been compromised for this test to take place. You should have stayed in bed longer.

 Except then I’d have had more witnesses to this ridiculous test. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed for one of the other droids to see how much of a mess you were in.

[auralite776]

Hi, I’m a horrible human.

I wrote this thing, so here you go!

Word count: 1,959

What if the three house lords became children thanks to a spell?

———————————————————————

Suddenly, three screams came from an unknown room. Geez, how many rooms were in this monastery, anyway?

It seemed nobody else heard the sound, so I assumed it was up to me to find the source. I had to make sure everything was alright before heading back to the classroom where the Black Eagle students were headed. Anyway, I head to the door, and cracked it open just a little, making sure nothing would leap out. “Not a single sound...hopefully everything is alright…” I whisper to myself before opening the door the rest of the way.

Oh my ever loving Sothis.

To what might as well have been my horror, three small figures peered at me. This must be a nightmare...or some sick joke.

“No, you dummy! Of course it’s real! You got knocked in the head with a club earlier today, remember?” Sothis’ voice rang as she spoke.

“Sothis, now is not the time.”

I walk over to get a closer look at the three people, and again to my shock, they look exactly like Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude respectively. What seemed to be their school uniforms were wickedly big on them, and because of that, they fell over when they tried to stand.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” I say, raising an eyebrow. They said nothing. At that, I heaved a sigh. I don’t get paid enough to deal with this…

“Well...alright. Let’s get you three to Manuela to see if there’s a way to get you back to normal.”

When I finished speaking, Edelgard managed to get her uniform in such a position so she could stand up, and walked to my side. Claude, however, came up with his brilliant plan to get up on my shoulder. Dimitri seemed too scared to stand up for some reason. I guessed it was best to carry him.

—————————————————————

“Oh… Oh my…”

“What is it, Manuela? Is it something that can’t be cured?” I said, somewhat frantically.

“Not that it can’t be cured, per se, but…” Manuela went on with a distressed tone mixed with an uncertain frown.

“But what?”

“It’ll take time for that spell to wear off. The question is how long, depending on the potency of that specific spell.”

Dammit. Now I’ll have to watch over three toddlers somehow and still be expected to carry out my duties. Just what I needed.

“You dragged yourself into this.”

Gee thanks, Sothis. As if I wasn’t aware of that in the first place!

“Just… Please, figure out how long it’ll take to wear off.”

“I’d say in about a day, though I’ll need to look over a few things, so it might be longer. Could you watch over them until it does?”

“I can try, hopefully Lady Rhea can alter my schedule or something.” I said as I scoop the three house leaders into my arms. “What do I need to do to watch over them, exactly?”

Manuela giggled. “I’m sure you’ll figure that out soon enough, Professor. Good day.” she giggled again as she left.

Well, a day or two won’t be that bad, right?

—————————————————————

Shit.

One hour and my room is a complete disaster. Figures. I can’t keep my eyes off of those three for a second! If only I could get some advice…

Dimitri started wailing once there was a knock on the door. In my desperate attempt to calm him down, I then heard the door slam into part of the wall. Which, in turn, caused the crown prince of Faerghus to scream even louder. Claude just stared in curiosity while hanging from the ceiling, and even then I wonder how he did that, while Edelgard covered her ears with a pillow.

“I gotta say, kid. You’re doing a decent job keeping yourself together.” Father remarked as he made his presence known.

“That’s incorrect.” I sigh. “I feel wickedly exhausted already and I can barely tear my eyes off of them without one crying or another object broken.” Finally, Dimitri stopped his cries. A relief to my ears.

“How long until the stupid thing will be done and over with?”

“A day or so. Hopefully. Manuela said it had something to do with the potency of some spell. Do you...know of anything I can do to keep them from destroying everything or screaming?”

“You’d be better off with trying to make the gremlins go to sleep.” Father sighed. “It’s pretty much the only thing that keeps them quiet and from causing mass destruction.”

“Gee thanks, Father. I know that, but how do I make them tired?”

My father opened his mouth to say something just as soon as Claude bolted out of the room as fast as his little legs could go. Which was unbelievably fast. I didn’t say another word before I took off after him. I cannot trust him out of anyone to not stay out of trouble. Yet I was already too late…

There was the stench of rotten meat everywhere.

Lady Rhea—the poor woman—was completely drenched in water.

Thanks to Claude, Seteth has made me his sworn enemy, or so I guessed from his soul-revealing glare. Yet the Archbishop laughed.

I stopped, completely out of break. Damn that kid is fast… Better leave it to the guards to catch him.

“Got rather busy, I see? And with quite the troublemaker, too.”

“I…” I panted. “I’m sorry...about him…”

“It’s alright, Professor.” Lady Rhea said calmly as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get the guards to go after him. How about you keep your eye on the other two?”

I nod, my dry throat and exhaustion catching up to me. I slowly make my way back to my quarters. My father left, it seems. Dimitri curled himself up with one of my overcoats as Edelgard stayed wide awake, gazing out the window. She looked terribly sad…

Her thoughts seemed to have escaped her as I pat a spot on my bed, seeing if she wanted to join me. She did, oddly enough, making herself comfortable while making sure she was as close to me as she possibly could. Poor girl must’ve had a bad memory resurface, by the look of things. It was silent, for a while.

“P...Professor…?” Edelgard’s tiny voice squeaked.

“Yes, Edelgard?”

“Can you...call me El? My older sisters used to call me that...before...you know…”

That moment of tension caused her to sniffle. I gently traced a single scar on her back, which might’ve been one of her worst. “Hey, it’s okay. I can call you that, if you wish. But all things aside, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, you know where to find me, alright?”

“Alright…”

More silence filled the room as Edelgard scooted herself upward, allowing her head to rest on my chest as she promptly fell asleep. A good thing, yet very curious. Soon enough, there was this warm, but indescribable feeling deep within my chest. When I put my hand on it, I, of course, felt nothing. There was nothing. No heartbeat…

I still held Edelgard close. What happened to her was one of the worst things I could possibly think of. All I could do now was be there for her to lean on, to be there to comfort her whenever needed. Despite being numb to some emotion, I felt...warm, I felt relaxed, and...it felt...right, somehow.

“Professor, are you...smiling?”

“What do you mean…?”

Edelgard seemed embarrassed when she asked that question. Avoided eye contact all together. “Er...it’s nothing…”

“If you say so.”

If only my heart actually beat...then perhaps Edelgard would be more relaxed. It might not be the case for her slight fidgeting, but she did cling. Was this...due to all of those experiments? Was she scared of letting anyone close to her go? I can’t change the past, no matter how hard I try…

“May I ask you something, Professor…?” Edelgard said quietly.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Do you… Do you think that those who suffer can be saved…?” Edelgard sounded hesitant, afraid. “That...when given a hand to hold, can escape…?”

“It depends. It depends on the person, what said person is struggling with coping, and the person who reached out to them. Not everyone can escape their traumatic childhoods, but if I had to offer my opinion, it would be that anyone could use that experience to change the world.”

The white-haired girl that made her home in my lap blinked with such wonder that I didn’t dare to try and understand. And yet, she frowned, her small arms wrapping around me and clutching my overcoat. “I want to change the world...for the better. You’ll help me...right?” she whispered as her body began to shake.

Edelgard relaxed as soon as I put a hand on the back of her head, gently threading my fingers through the strands of colorless hair. I always wondered what Edelgard’s natural hair color was, but then again she’d look beautiful no matter what.

She nudged me gently, her head burying itself in my chest. “I hate it. My entire body is scarred… I don’t doubt they won’t heal, but...they look horrific.”

Not to say that I didn’t agree. Some scars bore bad memories, others embarrassing accidents, but I had to shake my head. “El, that’s not entirely correct. They might look horrific to you, reminding you of those painful memories, yet in actuality, they only add more value in who you are. The scars made you the woman you are today, did they not? I believe that they enhance your beauty.”

Oh Goddess, I can’t believe I just said that.

Edelgard, however, grinned. “Thank you, Professor!”

The moment of peace was interrupted by Claude being gently shoved into the room, looking very disappointed. He yawned, crawling onto the bed next to Dimitri, who surprisingly was still asleep.

Hopefully the spell that made them like this would wear off. Soon.

“I guess it’s time for bed.” I yawn, looking back at Edelgard who leaned on my shoulder, fast asleep.

I lay down and pull the covers and sheets over my body, which made Claude and Dimitri move in order to stay warm, so the three huddled around me when they forced themselves under the sheet.

Soon enough, I shut my eyes, a curious warmth dwelling within my chest.

—————————————————————

Snap!

I jolted awake as soon as I felt something crushing me. Whatever it was, it was almost suffocating me. Until I realize…

The spell wore off. In my bedroom. On my bed. And it caused me to be in need of a new bed.

Something moved and immediately panicked. I opened a single eye, and Dimitri was awake, back to normal. One thing I did notice, his face was bright red.

Claude also moved, beginning to snicker, but stopped as soon as he realized what had happened. He was going to have an earful, that much was certain.

Edelgard stirred, but didn’t stand up like Claude and Dimitri did. Instead, she looked at who she was laying against and quickly rolled over, internally screaming.

They all demanded to know what happened yesterday. After I finished telling the story, they all had various responses.

Dimitri ran out of the room.

Claude laughed to hide his embarrassment.

And Edelgard…

Edelgard profusely apologized and hurried away to her quarters.

It was quite an interesting day. The three could barely even speak to me without growing flushed in the face. They did snap out of it later, when the fiasco was long such forgotten.

Oh, and the bed? I got a new one. Frankly, nobody dared to ask how it broke.

[witchbythebay]

Philter or Infusion?

I came across a post describing types of potions, but got curious about its descriptions of philters and infusions. 

°Philtre: water based, delicate ingredients

Infusion: water based, delicate ingredients 

I was familiar with infusions but not at all with philters (philtres?), so this got me wondering what actually differentiates the two. That ended up leading me down a big ol’ rabbit hole, so I’ll share what I found in case anyone else has ever wondered the same thing. 

Literal Definition & Etymology

I started with the dictionary definition of philter (also sometimes spelled philtre). While the generic denotation may not capture the nuanced meaning of a word within a specific domain (like witchcraft!), I figured it couldn’t hurt to start with the basics. 

Borrowed from Latin philtrum, itself a borrowing from Ancient Greek φίλτρον (phíltron, from φιλέω (philéō, “I love”))   A kind of potion, charm, or drug; especially love potion intended to make the drinker fall in love with the giver. [from the 16th c.]  x

So not just a potion, but a love potion. Note that the root of the word itself has to do with love. But, obviously definitions change over time and can become quite removed from their original meaning, so this is by no means conclusive. 

For what it’s worth, here’s infusion’s definition as well:

Borrowed from Old French infusion, from Latin infusio, infusionem (“a pouring into, a wetting, a dyeing, a flow”), from infundo.

A product consisting of a liquid which has had other ingredients steeped in it to extract useful qualities. An extract of rooibos and chamomile makes a refreshing infusion. The act of steeping or soaking a substance in liquid so as to extract medicinal or herbal qualities. x

Popular Usage

Next, I decided to look around some witchy and occult spaces online and see how other practitioners were using the word (if at all), particularly if there was any consensus about how a philter is made and what distinguishes it from other elixirs or potions, such as infusions. 

Online resources can be pretty dicey; I think we’ve all seen “witch tips” that may have started out as something reasonable, but have been passed through so many people and platforms, changing a little each time, that the end result is incorrect, incomplete, or even dangerous. So, my hope here wasn’t to find a single definitive Answer, but rather to collect a variety of them and see what they had in common. 

In the interest of saving space since this post is already really long, I won’t list all the results verbatim (although I have them saved if you’re just that curious), but the gist is this:

Unsurprisingly, few modern witches even seem to use the word philter; it seems antiquated or maybe literary at this point

It’s almost always used to describe either a love potion or other potion intended to evoke strong emotion in another person

Bibliographic Usage

To round things out, I also looked for written sources, which can also be kinda fraught, especially when you don’t have many trusted sources on hand.

To give you an idea of what you might find, one example I came across is Ellen Dugan’s Book of Witchery: Spells, Charms & Correspondences for Every Day of the Week (2012):

"No, technically, it is generally thought that a magickal potion is to be brewed or steeped over heat, while a philter is mixed together like a potion but the ingredients are not brewed. Another definition of a philter is simply "a magickal liquid" (which says classic potion to me). Potion and philter recipes both typically contain the following: water or a base oil, various essential oils, and other magickal ingredients such as herbs, flower petals, shed animal fur, or even tiny chips of crystals."

So this seemed concerning for something meant to be ingested, but it does then clarify that, "the magickal philters featured in this Book of Shadows are not meant to be taken internally," or “worn on the body”; they’re meant to anoint and bless objects instead. Still, I didn’t find any other source that mentions this “lack of brewing” distinction, although Dugan may have cited a source later in the book somewhere? 

There were also lots of references to philters/philtres in older texts of all kinds, usually love potions or aphrodisiacs, but sometimes used interchangeably with any kind of liquid with pharmacological properties. 

For an example of the magical variety, in Henry Cockeram’s The English Dictionarie or an Interpreter of Hard English Words (from 1626), a philtre is, "an amorous potion to procure loue."  

Another example, philters get a shout-out in the lyrics to A Christmas Cantata by Stanley Schell (Werner’s Magazine, 1899):

"A love philter which I need; Make it sweet, and good, and strong (...)The poison philter that I need; Make it heavy, swift, and strong." 

Finally, I found something that, based on the wording, seems like it could be the actual source of the info in the tumblr post that started this all. 

"A Philtre or Infusion is a form of water based potion, similar to a tea, and best suited for immediate ingestion of delicate ingredients such as leaves or petals." 

This is from Advanced Potion Making By Noel Green (2015). We see the same “water based”, “delicate ingredients” wording as the tumblr post. However, the description of the work itself says, ”Note: this is NOT a real potion book but is made for the fan of all things magical."  So there’s that.

Summary

tl;dr

My takeaway from all this is that the word philter:

is kinda antiquated

typically describes a love potion or aphrodisiac specifically

isn’t a subtype of potion in the same way as infusions, tinctures, decoctions, salves, etc, which each entail specific methods of creation or physical properties

As always, double-check what you read online. You might not find a conclusive answer to your questions, but you can still find out if what you’re being told is from folklore, or if it’s (probably unintentionally) sourced from (what seems to be) a narrowly-avoiding-copyright-issues HP fanwork. 

BUT I’m not a terribly experienced witch myself, so if anyone has further insight, clarification, or corrections to offer (or suggestions for further reading!) please don’t hesitate to add on or send it my way. Cheers!