#unfortunately she’s being unreasonably challenging

[ekingston]

DONT post morgana w/o warning!!! i will go FERAL

apologies anon but i’m not usually in charge of these things. case in point my current WIP:

clearly my brain is not done with her yet

[positively--speculative]

It's really unfortunate that a number of people (mostly white people) in the IWTV fandom here on Tumblr seem to have this watered down view of the gothic genre as "cool, sexy monster stuff." I mean, yeah. That's *part* of it, but that's like, a very high school Hot Topic view of it. I mean, nothing wrong with liking the stuff you did in high school or Hot Topic, but it shows a lack of a deeper understanding.

I know I've ragged on Anne Rice a lot here, but I honestly think that this is partly her responsibility. Did she craft interesting characters? Yes. Did she give them flaws? Yes. But does she do a good job of challenging them? Not really. In fact, the way she frames then makes it seem like they're not flaws at all. I can accept the fact that slavery was normalized in Louis time, but I cannot accept the idea if no one in the story challenging it. It is not unreasonable for Daniel to be attracted to Louis during the interview, but at the very least, he should be uncomfortable with his attraction to him. Sometimes bad people are still attractive. That's an uncomfortable truth. But AR doesn't handle it this way. She never addresses it.

So, it's really not hard to understand why her fandom carries such limited views on uncomfortable matter, because her writing didn't challenge them to feel uncomfortable with their attraction to Louis. To Lestat. To even fucking Marius (who I won't get into here. Other people have already written about him here and have done so better than I can). AR made the sexy vampire books, and her fans just go along with all the awful things they do because, hey, they're monsters and it's cool because they live outside human expectations of morality (even though Louis was awful before becoming a monster). AR presents shock value, but doesn't address what's shocking. Her fandom, in fact, seems to take pride in illustrating no shock over what is shocking. This, in my opinion, is an illustration of *failure* to create an effective gothic story.

The show does a much better job, in my opinion, at presenting something gothic. I, a Black biracial woman of the audience, should not be attracted to Lestat. But I *am.* I shouldn't be attracted to Louis, but I *am.* I shouldn't be looking at their family dynamic with Claudia in her earlier days as a vampire through heart-shaped lenses, but I *do.* And it's uncomfortable. It's supposed to be. And I think Daniel's character does a good job of bringing the audience back into the horrible reality of the situation and causes us to check ourselves.

And I think white fandom really does a disservice to Jacob Anderson *AND* Sam Reid by trying to argue with Black fandom over the subject of race. Racism is a central theme in this version of the story. But they don't want us to talk about it, because they're uncomfortable with it. They'd rather pretend it doesn't exist and doesn't need to be discussed. But it's *supposed* to make them uncomfortable. They're just not used to seeing the benefits of being challenged, because AR never did. And unfortunately, they're missing out in a very fulfilling part of enjoying the story because they want to keep themselves in a little bubble where they can pat each other on their backs for not being shocked by shocking things and never growing as people.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Kingdom of the Stars Chapter 14: The Plan

Previous: Chapter 13

Next: Chapter 15

Her fingers grazed the edges of the page as her eyes took in the picture of the dark-colored figure. Its eyes glowed a sickly green as she glanced at the crimson star figure that loomed above it in the paper sky.

Should she have been concerned by all the terribly drawn sketches of what appeared to be, what? Lions? Tigers? Bears? Maybe all three combined?

“This is all gibberish,” Asha whispered under her breath as she continued flipping through the journal. 

She’d probably been at this for an hour, and she’d have just as much luck translating this journal as she did her father’s scrolls. 

It’d been hard not to feel guilty for stealing this book when she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She sighed, setting the book down as she stood to her feet and stretched. The sounds of the surrounding wish garden nearly overwhelmed her senses as she began to think. 

Had it been a good idea to leave a sleeping star alone with Valentino? 

She doubted it, but after everything that had happened last night, she needed space to think. 

The sun would rise in a few more minutes and with it would come the start of a new day with its own unique set of challenges. Speaking of challenges, Asha was trying hard to not think of the impending meeting she’d have with the town officials. 

The head official was by all sources, tyrannical. Tyrannical but not unreasonable she hoped. Her experience with the other officials had taught her that much. 

She began to pace the small surrounding trail as she planned what she’d say to the officials. 

Experience had taught her that it always boiled down to being able to play whatever game the official was. Once you could do that, persuading them would be much easier. 

In this instance, the head town official was usually the one who was the leader of the yearly marketing decorations operation for the Astral Ball. Not only did they approve the plans and supplies for the decoration creations, but they pretty much oversaw every aspect of decorating the market itself.

Hopefully,  if she approached this humbly enough she could convince the head official to play nice…and maybe…she could even get her to consider one of her designs. She knew it was partially a longshot, being approved to design the creations, but she was certain she could get the noblewoman to see things her way, right? 

Unfortunately, the other official’s servants hadn’t seemed to agree as she remembered the faces they’d made when she’d passed her idea by them.

They’d informed her that the head official wasn’t exactly open to new decoration ideas, as for five years without fail, the markets had been stubbornly decorated the same way. 

It wasn’t something that Asha could imagine as she remembered taking field trips to the market that had been decorated in an assortment of all kinds of décor and colors. It had been beautifully decorated in different ways each year, showing off the creative yet blended styles that the community had to offer.

But now it sounded as if that had become a thing of the past.

What had happened?!

Politics, she guessed. It was always politics.

 She shook her head, forcing her mind to re-focus on the main reason why she was now in a wish garden: to grant more wishes. 

Was going back to a wish garden after what she’d seen last night been incredibly reckless, if not blatantly stupid on her part? Absolutely. 

But, in her defense, this wish garden, despite not being as decorated or sophisticated as its Western counterpart, was neither dark nor lonely. 

The people here knew her; she was one of them.

The head maintainer here had been a good friend of her grandmother! So if anyone was going to trust or believe her about the impending danger it would be them . 

Now all she had to do was wait until the maintainers had finished dealing with the daily morning traffic. 

Given how the astral ball and wishing ceremony was now less than a week away, the wish garden was packed- and with the sudden influx of wishes, she felt confident that she’d be able to catch wind of a few smaller ones. If she could grant the smaller ones then that would be fewer wishes that could be stolen and shattered! It was brilliant, wasn’t it? 

She’d be doing her part to protect Rosas! With or without magic!

She halted, hearing the sound of familiar chirping overhead. Quickly she looked up past the wish garden’s stony walls and tall shrubbery and into the now overcast sky as the sight of several familiar birds came into view. All chirped and sang happily as she grinned and waved, “Hey guys! down here!”

She took a seat on the nearby bench as the colorful birds descended. The sight of their bright colorful feathers and the sounds of their songs illuminated the dreary sky as she watched some of them quietly land on the bench next to her, while some chose to land near her feet. Grateful for their company, she began to recite their names in individual greetings. 

It took her a solid minute to go through all the birds’ names, but at least they were all here, which meant that they were all safe .

She hoped none of them had seen the terrible blackbird as she watched a few of them acknowledge each other with small chirps.  

 “Good morning everyone!” she smiled as all the birds sang back to her. 

Stretching out her arm, she watched as several carefully perched on her sleeve, making themselves comfortable. “Great job on getting everyone together! The meeting happened without any delay and I got them all to sign off on their shipments! Which means we are one step closer to going home for Saba’s birthday!” She laughed as a few of the birds happily leaped and she heard a choir of chirps. “Honestly I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.” 

The small birds beamed in pride at her words as one of the birds, Ordonio, hopped forward.

She gently petted him with a finger watching as he lowered his head, happily chirping.

 “So…Who’s ready for breakfast?” she asked the others as they excitedly chirped, a few even eagerly hopping.  

They cheered as she reached into her pocket, withdrawing a few rolls of bread she’d taken this morning when she’d left the inn. 

She tried not to think of how Mr. Bjorn had grinned when she’d asked him for it, happily telling her to take as much as he’d need. 

Her heart had stopped when he’d generously given her more male clothes than she’d asked for. He hadn’t stopped grinning as she tried to reasonably explain to him that there was no he. 

From the look on his face, she knew he wasn’t convinced. 

But to his credit, he didn’t ask any questions.

Thank God. 

Tearing the bread into smaller pieces she tossed it to the birds, watching them eagerly devour the crumbs.

“Enrique!” She called as she watched the small red bird turn to her. “Play nice! You know your sister hasn’t had breakfast yet.” She watched as the smaller bird indignantly ruffled his feathers as his sister, Mara proudly devoured the crumbs from Asha’s hand. 

“If you’re hungry I still have more,” she pulled out another piece of bread. This time she offered him some crumbs before tossing the rest to the surrounding birds who eagerly devoured it. 

“Seriously guys I have a ton of bread. It’s a long story-,” Several of the birds paused curiously looking at her as if patiently awaiting elaboration.

She shook her head, “Trust me you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” As if to chirp in disagreement she watched Abril land next to her on the bench before doing a small hop. 

She nervously looked around, before glancing back at the rest of the birds, who were all eagerly awaiting. 

Not wanting to risk anyone overhearing she shook her head. “Not now-,” she began as they chirped in dismay. “But I’ll tell you as soon as I can! I promise!” She continued to feed them, watching as the birds eagerly devoured the last few bits of bread. “Right now I’m trying to help with the market decorations, and I’ve come up with a few designs, see?” She held up her sketchbook as she heard the birds chirp as they looked and examined its drawings. “Pretty good, right? But the problem is that apparently, the head official isn’t open to taking new creative ideas.” She closed the sketchbook, nervously scratching the cover before she heard herself ask her feathered companions “But you think I can convince her to change her mind right?”

Ontario gave her a confident chirp, followed by Abril and then Adelina Enrique and Mara. Soon all of the birds were giving her chirps of reassurance.

She grinned, “Thanks, guys. I hope so. All I have to do is be reasonable, right?  I mean, how bad can she be?”

The answer to that question would come in the form of a male voice she heard from the other side of the wall. “I understand that like any other citizen of Rosas, you feel…entitled to indulge yourself by making certain wishes, but please. Surely you could make more sensible wishes?” 

An indignant, yet younger male voice answered, “What do you mean?! My wish is perfectly sensible!” Wait, she knew that voice.  She risked a glance around the corner, past a thick yet well-trimmed rose bush.

She felt her jaw drop as she saw the familiar figure of an old classmate, storming onto the now lonely streets. 

If she remembered correctly, his name had been Julian, and he’d been quite popular back in her early school days in Hamlet. 

Being the son of one of the most prominent nobles this side of Rosas had come with benefits as he’d always been the talk of the town. Whether it be for what his family was doing, or whatever he’d put his mind to, people were always talking about Julian. 

She watched him pause on the street, turning around to glare at the following crowd of maintainers and officials. 

“Why don't you wish for something better? Like money? Fame?" came a gentle voice that she didn't recognize, but judging from how well-dressed the man was, she guessed he was an official. 

"I don't tell you what to wish for!" Julian spat out. "So why don't you stop trying to do it with me?!"

The man sighed, looking somewhat exasperated as she watched a red-haired young woman who looked to be in her mid to late 20s step forward. 

Her grin was far sharper as she stared at the young man, accepting every bit of challenge he had shown in his eyes. “What does that even mean anyway?”  From the authority in her posture, Asha was willing to be that she was the head official for the eastern part of Rosa's. "Why would you ask for that?" 

Julian was seething now as she heard him bark back, "It’s for the king to know and for you to find out!”

“Ha! You assume too much,” the woman replied with a rather flippant gesture. “For him to do that we all know that his Highness would have to consider looking down this side for a wish that he deemed sensible. So I doubt he’ll even want to waste time to fathom what that-,” she gestured to the wish garden behind her. “- means.”

 "Just because you're too mentally inept to understand it doesn't mean that everyone is!" 

A strange silence fell on the group. 

Most officials would’ve been seething and threatening at a comment like that. 

But it seemed as if the head official was in a good mood today as a grin made its way to her face  "Perhaps you should wish for a successful career in creative writing? Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?" She heard the woman call as a few of the other officials around her quietly chuckled.

Sensing that he'd lost this argument, he snarled, wordlessly stalking off down the now-empty streets. 

 "I think he took that rather well," said the head official, placing her hands on her hips as she grinned in self-satisfaction.

"Definitely took it better than Anna," she heard another official comment. "Can you imagine wishing to fly of all things?"

"I don't know, I quite liked her bird idea if I'm being honest," the head official admitted rather thoughtfully.

The man who’d been pleading with Julian deflated, looking somewhat defeatedly after the young man’s retreating figure.

"Don't bother yourself feeling sad for him," she saw one of the male officials call to him. "The truth is never an easy thing to hear."

"That it is," the head official agreed. "You tell people the truth but they never want to hear it. But heaven forbid you even slip them a well-intentioned lie."

"You're damned if you do, damned if you don't," one of the maintainers nodded as she watched them all venture back into the wish garden leaving a still-hiding Asha behind.

Admittedly Asha had never been close with Julian nor did she have the faintest idea of what he could’ve wished for, but part of her genuinely believed that whatever it was didn’t deserve such a reaction.  

They could’ve just ignored it like the king would inevitably do. But the fact that they’d gone out of their way to make the ordeal so public had her feeling less than confident about her future proposal.

She quietly crept back into the wish garden, making her way through the maze comprised of moss-covered walls, pink tulips, yellow lily bushes, and neatly cut shrubbery. The fragrance of the garden was wonderfully tempting, nearly letting her lower her guard until she heard more voices begin to speak.

This time however they came from within the garden and thankfully sounded a little less confrontational. 

They also sounded…familiar.

Confused, yet curious, she peered through the ivy-covered fenced wall, careful not to be seen as she looked at the standing crowd.

“A yellow wish-,” a familiar male voice began as she caught sight of the glowing yellow orb he carefully held within his hand. “That’s a good thing right?” 

“Mr. Amin?” Asha whispered, feeling her eyes widen. He’d been her old arts and crafts teacher from Hamlet. What was he doing here? 

She wasn’t sure but he wasn’t alone, as she continued to peek through the shrubbery, surprised to see that he wasn’t the only face she’d recognized from her earlier school days.

The whole crowd that had accompanied him was full of her old-school teachers! 

The woman next to him, Mrs. Zahra, his wife, and her old music teacher, shrugged. “I dunno but personally it reminds me of a pineapple.”

“Very funny,” Mr. Amin rolled his eyes as a few of their surrounding friends chuckled. He gestured to her wish, “Why is your wish like that?”

“Oh, this?” Mrs. Zahra, asked, while glancing to her orb that was a pleasant mix of pink and yellow. “I’m not sure.”

“What did you wish for?” she saw Mrs. Akemi her literature teacher ask.

“I wished for some new tunes to play. If we’re being honest, I’m getting tired of all these preludes.”

“What’s wrong with preludes?” 

“Nothing really, I just wish I could play something a bit livelier. You know, to put a skip in my step.” Unsurprisingly, Mrs. Alina, her old dance teacher nodded at this. “Playing preludes is wonderful but it gets so tiring when it's all your clients want to hear from you. I want to expand my horizons you know? Let loose! There’s so much more to music than romantic pieces!”

“Agreed. There’s horror, like when you first picked it up to play-,” Mr. Armin teased as she watched everyone laugh, reminiscing over the memory. “But I suppose that explains the pink part.”

“It does?” Mrs. Zahra asked.

Mr. Armin nodded, “Of course!  Correct me if I’m wrong Lady Chidera, but I do believe that pink symbolizes love, doesn’t it?” He turns to the middle-aged woman dressed in fancy robes who nods. 

“That it does. All of the colors of the wishes are drawn from the emotions of their wishers So whatever you feel regarding the wish when you make it is the color that it will show,” she watched the familiar figure of Mrs. Chidera, the head maintainer come into view. 

“Oh! So what does the yellow symbolize?” Mrs. Zahra asked. 

 “Yellow symbolizes hope and aspirations.” Mrs. Chidera continued. “And just between the both of us…I hear the king has a soft spot for those,” 

“I certainly hope so,” Mr. Armin sighs, looking at his yellow wish. “Business has yet to pick up and I’ve been wishing that it could change lately but-,” he shook his head. 

“I’m sure t will be answered in due time,” Mrs. Chidera commented as her gaze softened. “I hear that the king is planning to do something differently this year.”

“I sure hope so,” said Mrs. Alina as she cradled her yellowish-bluish wish. “It’s what I wished for…for things to be different.”

“I know what you mean,” Mrs. Akinemi nodded as she glanced at her yellowish blue-colored wish. “I remember when this used to be…fun.”

“Used to be…” Mr. Armin murmured. A small note of silence fell over the group. 

The group paused listening to the bell tower that had begun to chime in the distance. “Ah! Time to go! We’re going to be late!” One of them called. 

“Late? The market decorations won’t be until another hour!” Mr. Amrin exclaimed.

“I know, I know, but you know what Lady Allard always says ‘The market won’t decorate itself!” she heard Mrs. Alina mimic the head official’s voice as the group laughed. 

Even Mrs. Chidera grinned as she heard someone else add on in a mocking voice,

“Hurry! Hurry! The world will end if we don’t get the market looking flawless!’ Speech!”  Laughter ruptured from the group as she watched them disappear from view.

She reminisced over the bits and pieces of their conversation that she’d heard. Her teachers were here! And they all looked exactly like how Asha had remembered them- only now they were more tired and…downhearted. To see them like this was…sad.

It probably meant that things in Hamlet were different, but not for the better.

A cool breeze passed through as Asha entered the clearing where the group once was. Her eyes drew towards the gray, overcast sky above. 

She felt one bird land near her, chirping as it looked up at her tentatively. Soon the others followed, all of them surrounding her, probably curious as to what she was doing or rather, was planning to do. 

She had been wondering before, but now she knew what she had to do.

She could grant these wishes. 

Not only would granting said wishes keep their businesses running smoothly and make them happy but it would keep them from being shattered like those other wishes had! 

All she had to do was convince the officials to let her use their services when she’d decorate the market! If she could do that, then she was certain it would give them the boosts their businesses needed.

It might not be easy, but it would be worth it-,

“Asha?” came a voice, catching her off guard as she whirled around, facing an equally surprised Mrs. Chidera who approached.

“Mrs. Chidera!” Asha called, happy to see her. 

The middle-aged woman blinked, adjusting her glasses as a small smile crossed her face. “I’ll admit when I heard that you of all people were here, I couldn’t believe it. So I decided to come and see it for myself, and where do I find you? Standing in the same spot I remembered you’d loved to hide all those years ago. Do you remember? How you’d tried to hide from us but every time we’d call your name you’d answer?” She asked as Asha nodded, feeling her face warmed at Mrs. Chidera’s laughter.

Quietly she felt Mrs. Chidera take her hands into hers, whilst visibly relaxing. “I’m glad you're back, Asha. How have you been?”

“Thank you. I’ve been well-” she says, as they both pause at the sound of thunder rolling overhead. 

“Ah, I only wish you’d chosen a better day to visit. It seems as if the weather hasn’t been on anyone’s side lately.” 

Asha nervously nodded, trying not to imagine a storm raining out the market decorations. If that happened then all of her work so far would’ve been for naught…

She’d nearly been so occupied with her thoughts that she almost missed when Mrs. Chidera began to walk away, gesturing for Asha to follow. “We have a lot to discuss now, don’t we?”

She nodded, catching up to her by a beautifully colored orange rose bush. “Yes ma’am. I believe we do. I wanted to speak to you before the market decorations. The king wanted me to oversee them this year.”

“So I’ve heard, word travels fast around these parts of Rosas” Mrs. Chidera briefly glances at the passing fountain. “Come, there’s something I need to attend to, but we can continue on our way there.”

“Yes ma’am,” Asha answered before following after the woman’s retreating form into the garden. 

It was hard to believe how much the garden had changed. 

Granted it should’ve been expected, as the last time she’d been here was when her grandmother was still alive, and Mrs. Chidera was a teenager. 

Back then The wish gardens had seemed magical and she’d happily mistaken Mrs. Chidera along with all the other maintainers to be sorcerers.

She, of course, couldn’t have been more wrong about everything. 

At the time, Mrs. Chidera like so many other maintainers, had been a former apprentice of the king full of hope and determination when she’d gotten this position. It was a well-known fact that becoming a maintainer was one of the highest positions an apprentice could obtain. 

It meant that the king believed in you. He trusted you and what you could do. 

Trust wasn’t easy to come by with the king, but she’d be a fool if she didn't think obtaining it opened a world of locked doors. 

“Is this new?” Asha asked, gesturing to a statue of both the king and the queen that she swore hadn’t been there the last time she’d visited. 

“It is! We commissioned it a few months ago. It’s a lovely addition, isn’t it?” Mrs. Chidera asked as she admired the statue thoughtfully. 

Asha begrudgingly nodded. 

It was no better than the market statues but she couldn’t deny that it looked lovely. 

Of course, it was lovely. 

A lot of money went into maintaining Wish Gardens, as God forbid that people be deterred from wishing thanks to the presence of a few weeds. she rolled her eyes at the thought. Yet here she was doing all of this work just for the king to consider funding one of her projects.

No wonder she’d stupidly called down that star last night.

She needed a vacation. Or maybe counseling.

Come to think of it, maybe she needed both. 

“How has your apprenticeship been going?” Mrs. Chidera asked, gently breaking her train of thought.

“It’s been fine,” Asha lied, nearly laughing at the irony between her thoughts and her words. “I’ve just had to do some things here and there, so I’ve been traveling a lot.”

“I see,” she watched the woman pause as her fingers traced one of the exposed parts of the old garden’s stone walls. She took a step back reaching for the metal gate that guarded the innermost parts of the wish garden and had nearly pulled it open when a few of Asha’s birds landed, startling Lady Chidera as some began to chirp. Letting out a half-nervous laugh, she placed her hand over her heart  as she turned back to Asha,  “I take it these are yours?”

She sheepishly nodded. “They are! They’ve been a huge help for me lately in some apprenticeship stuff. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“It’s perfectly fine! The presence of your birds in the wish garden is always a welcoming addition,” she nodded towards the birds who continued to chirp. “So I take it that they are a part of the reason why you are here?” She watched as Mrs. Chidera pulled out a small iron key, and unlocked the door before she followed her into the private sections of the garden. 

“Partially,” Asha admitted. “But I’m here…for another reason.”

Soon the surrounding plants began to diminish, giving way to more stony structures of chairs and tables that held several vases and jars. The scene reminded Asha of the king’s laboratory or the prince’s study. 

Magical laboratories are what she thought she’d heard the king call them. Something she most definitely found to be ludicrous. Save for alchemy, what about magic required a laboratory of all things? Heck, what was keeping him from just using a big black caldron in the middle of nowhere and calling it a day? It had worked for the witches in Macbeth, hadn’t it? 

“I’d advise you put these on,” she heard Mrs. Chidera say as she held a pair of thick brown leather gloves and goggles in her direction. “Safety reasons, you know.”

“Thank you,” she said, placing them on. She’d remember doing this whenever she’d worked with her grandmother at her shop or whenever she’d have to build something, like the cart of her birds’ house. 

To her surprise, Mrs. Chidera spoke once more, gesturing to the still-following small birds.  “I’d also advise you against bringing your feathered friends into here, it’s a bit…experimental you know. Not particularly safe for animals.”

She nodded, glancing at her birds, as she whispered “I’ll see you all back at the castle soon! I’ll have your reward for you then.” The birds chirped, and the pair quietly watched as they disappeared into the sky. 

After the last bird disappeared into the overcast sky she quickly began to follow Mrs.Chidera further into the area. 

Several stone bookshelves and a fireplace appeared, all covered with a variety of runes that had been etched into their sides. Like the stone table, their shelves and surfaces contained vials, caldrons, and books. 

“It seems that we’ve arrived at a good time,” came Mrs. Chidera’s voice as she approached a stone table that contained several vials, books, and a bubbling cauldron. 

Asha curiously watched as she gathered several pieces of paper that had been scattered on the table’s surface, ordering them, before turning her attention to the cauldron that sat next to an open book that had the word ‘RUNES’ etched into its pages. 

“So you’ve been doing some traveling lately, but not to wish gardens. Did someone put you up to this, no? Sabino?” she asked suddenly, her eyes briefly skimming the page before she turned back to her. Asha shook her head, watching as Mrs. Chidera’s brows furrowed. “Oh? But I thought his birthday was approaching.”

“it is, and it’s technically why I’ve been traveling so much, but it’s not main the reason why I’m here.” She glanced around the semi-clearing, worrying that someone might be eavesdropping. “I wanted to speak to you for a different reason,” she confessed. “A business reason.” 

“Is said business royal?” Mrs. Chidera asked, as her grip on the table seemed to tighten. 

“Partially,” Asha admitted not liking how the head maintainer had tensed and poured a vial into the cauldron. The bubbling liquid within the cauldron quickly turned purple, as she reached over towards it with her quill. Then with surprising quickness, she carefully dipped the tip of it within the caldron before she began to write on the paper. 

Steam arose with every word, or rather rune she began to carefully carve into the pages. 

“You certainly do seem to have a lot of partial reasons today don’t you?” 

“Unfortunately…but the main reason why I’m here is that… I’ve come to ask about your wishes.”

Her quill halted as the steam promptly vanished from its tip. She turned to her, eyes looking analytical yet distant. “What about them?”

It took everything in her to not flinch as she cleared her throat and asked, “You haven’t noticed anything…strange with them have you?”

To her surprise and confusion, Mrs. Chidera relaxed. 

She’d relaxed as if the question hadn’t been the least bit serious. 

 “If by strange you mean outlandish, then yes. I’ve been hearing or seeing some rather strange things,” she says as she resumes writing. “Just the other day someone wished that they could fly like a bird with the birds!  It’s a lovely whimsical wish, but with so many things to wish for on a rare occasion, I was hoping for something a bit more…daring?”

“I suppose,” Asha admitted, although truthfully she gave the wish no thought as she wasn’t sure how she’d even begin to go about granting that one. 

Flying was something the star did, and it was something she wanted to avoid, given her fear of heights.

She shivered, remembering all of the heights she’d seen last night before she re-focused. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Mrs. Chidera continued her runes, this time writing them faster. “Well then, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more transparent about these…strange happenings. Do any of them involve that strange music you’re always looking for?”

Ouch . No wonder she’d relaxed when Asha had mentioned strange happenings. She probably thought she was just joking!   

She shook her head, trying not to sound too urgent or panicked as she remembered how the wish had been shattered. “Have you seen any strange characters around the Wish Garden lately?”

Mrs. Chidera held up the runes thoughtfully, examining them before shaking her head. “Hmm…None that I can recall…why do you ask?” 

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, watching as Mrs. Chidera reached for a vial full of strange green liquid. She uncapped it before pouring it into the cauldron. 

“Well, with the recent news of a rogue wizard, I couldn’t help but think that if such a wizard were to come to Rosas of all places then they’d be targeting the wishes in the gardens…don’t you think?”

 Mrs. Chidera frowned, recapping the vial before placing it back on the table as she watched her pick up an old wooden spoon. Slowly, she began to stir the strange glowing liquid in the cauldron as she turned to Asha. “What you’ve heard is nothing more than an unsubstantiated rumor.”

“What?! How can you be so sure?”

Lady Chidera removed the spoon, quickly wiping it off with a nearby rag before she reached for her quill, quickly dipping its tip into the cauldron, and began to write on a different sheet of paper. “Take it from a noblewoman herself. It’s just nonsense that the other nobles come up with to keep themselves bored when the king remembers that he’s their king and not their friend.”

“I…I don’t understand???”

She paused her rune writing, sparing Asha a glance as she asked her, “You did hear this rogue wizard nonsense from a noble, didn’t you?” Hesitantly she nodded, hearing the woman tsk. “Which proves my point exactly. The king holds these curfews for nothing more than safety reasons to transport and check the wishes which becomes infinitely easier to do when the streets are less crowded. The nobles weren’t happy that they were included in said curfew, so someone just decided to come up with the rogue wizard tale as an ‘official’ excuse to give the non-nobles in case they asked.

Asha’s hands were shaking now. That couldn’t have been right! She knew it wasn’t! Not when she’d remembered what she’d seen last night! “…So…so you really don’t think there’s a wizard?”

“I know there’s no 'rogue wizard', and even if there were, then the many barriers around Rosas would have easily solved that problem. And if that didn’t work then they’d have to deal with the runes," and with that, she was back to rune writing. It didn't take her long to finish whatever she was scribbling as Asha watched her examine the page. With one solemn nod, she continued to write. “And if they’d got past those , then, rest assured, they’d have to deal with the rest of us, and we would ensure that they’d be stopped by any means necessary.”

Any means necessary sounded violent , maybe even murderous.

“What if there was a way to get around that? The runes and barriers I mean.” 

Mrs Chidera shook her head, holding up the now-finished paper as she looked it over. “There isn’t.”

“With all due respect, are you certain? I mean, there’s always a loophole to these things, right? Not speaking from experience but every lock can be picked and code can be cracked, so who’s to say this isn’t different?” 

 If the hole in the clouds last night had taught her anything, it was that things could change. Not everything was as infallible as it seemed. 

Mrs. Chidera let out a small yet humorless laugh, as she placed the sheet of paper on the table.  “Asha,” she began gently. “I know you have your reservations about magic, but I assure you, runes and barriers usually cannot be broken without alerting someone.”

“Usually. But what if they are?”

She could tell that Mrs. Chidera was equal parts curious and maybe…worried. Amused? It was hard to tell, as she thought over her question. 

Finally, she shook her head. “If they are broken then we will know. It doesn’t matter who breaks these runes or barriers, but whatever they plan to do won’t work. The more intricate the rune, the harder it is to break, and the king is possibly one of the best rune casters and sorcerers I’ve ever seen. If someone has even considered tampering with them, he’d already know.”

He’d already know. 

The words made Asha’s heart skip a beat, but whether it was from hope or fear…she wasn’t sure. 

“Please believe me, Asha, when I tell you that, as the head maintainer and protector of this Wish Garden, I nor the king would ever let anything happen to the wishes.”

 That was probably what the head maintainer at the western garden would swear to.

  If only he’d known the one night he’d been distracted at a play celebrating the wishes protection would be the one night that the wishes would be easily smashed.

She felt Mrs. Chidera suddenly step past her and her eyes widened. “It’s working! It’s finally working!” came Mrs. Chidera’s voice, interrupting her thoughts. 

Now Mrs. Chidera was grinning at the paper that was now glowing. Glowing?! 

Not wanting to push her luck with any more magical things or beings , Asha immediately took cover behind a large stone table that stood a few yards away. 

She peaked over the edge, watching as Mrs. Chidera quickly joined her side. She looked beyond excited as if the paper wasn’t doing something that could lead to imminent disaster.

“What is going on?!” Asha exclaimed, not liking the glowing piece of paper. “Why is that paper glowing?!”

“That paper is the culmination of my life's work,” Mrs. Chidera commented rather proudly as she pointed to it. “I’ve been researching these runes on behalf of the king for at least a few years!”

“On behalf of? I thought you said that the king was one of the best rune casters and sorcerers you’d ever seen-,”

“He is!” she interjected with a hint of indignation in her voice on behalf of the king. “But a few years ago he approached me with remnants of these ancient runes and offered to fund my research if I looked into them for a while! With his financial assistance, I was able to accelerate my work to its final stages! It’s marvelous isn’t it?”

While Asha was certain that she’d call a glowing piece of paper many things, marvelous wasn’t one of them. 

“You research runes?” she asked, feeling a bit surprised. 

Mrs. Chider nodded, “Of course! Although I will admit, that these have been giving me a rather… fair amount of grief in the past few days…so many sleepless nights and skipped meals. I even had to learn a dead language!” She shook her head as Asha saw the paper begin to glow brighter. “But it’s a reasonable sacrifice for runes of untold power, I guess.” She murmured before turning her attention back to the table. 

“Runes of power?” Asha repeated as she watched crimson magic spark from the paper. Now a strong breeze began to rush through the garden, nearly blowing her over until she took shelter behind the table once more. 

She could feel it, the power that was now gathering around the paper, coiling and winding itself. But this power didn’t feel like the king’s. 

No, It felt more ominous, more overwhelming almost like- “It’s working!” Mrs. Chidera yelled as the paper began to shake, this time floating up and off of the stone table. 

The magic angrily flickered off of its surface like lightning as Asha watched the grass around the table begin to change color, quickly transforming from a pleasant dark green to a sickly yellow-green.

“Is that…is that supposed to happen?” She called, the wind swallowing her voice as panic began to fill her.

“Chidera!” came a voice as she saw the figure of the head official entering at the same time as the paper began to now shake violently. “Oye Chidera, I-,” her voice trailed off as she looked at the paper. “What the,” she scowled, taking a few uneasy steps back.

“Get down Allard!” Mrs. Chidera yelled, running from behind the table towards the head official. 

Asha could only look on in horror and amazement as Mrs. Chidera tackled the head official, to the ground with impressive strength, pulling her out of the way of a sudden crimson bolt. 

Both women quickly pulled themselves to their feet, as paper began to still itself. Energy bubbled beneath its surface as they took off towards her just as the paper began, to emit more energy. 

Shivers tore through her body as if she could feel the runes' power gathering around her, and pulling at her.  

‘Something is wrong.’ Her mind whispered as she continued to look on in frozen terror as both Mrs. Chidera and the head official managed to crawl back to the stone table. 

But the looks on the head official’s face were unmistakable.

She had felt it too. 

The head official’s face visibly paled as the paper began to make sounds . 

“Hold on!” She heard Mrs. Chidera yell, pulling an emergency rune out of her pocket, as several surrounding vials and papers on the tables around them began to levitate. 

“What sort of sorcery is this?!” The head official exclaimed, her frightened voice a startling contrast to how smug she’d sounded earlier.

“One that you shouldn’t have walked in on! Now get down!” Mrs. Chidera said as they all braced for it. 

She could feel it- the explosion, it was coming, any second now.

She tensed, watching as the light vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. 

The levitating papers and vials fell to the ground as the paper carelessly fell back onto the tabletop. 

“Was it supposed to do that?” the official asked as she watched Mrs. Chidera risk a glance towards the paper.

She could practically feel the woman’s disappointment as she watched her rush towards the stone table, looking over the paper. 

Cautiously, she followed as did the official woman who was busy brushing dust and whatnot off of her dress. It was hard to tell if she was embarrassed or relieved as the two approached the table, careful not to get too close as Asha asked, “Was it…was it supposed to do that?” 

“No!” Mrs. Chidera nearly wailed, as she watched her force herself to regain her composure before turning back to them. “It was supposed to do the opposite!”

“So by opposite, you mean by a regular piece of paper?” The head official asked, earning herself a dark scowl from Mrs. Chidera. “I didn’t know you did dangerous stuff back here! You could’ve killed me!”

Miss Chidera didn’t look amused as she watched the head official squirm. “Nonsense. It was a rune that was supposed to gather the energy from around us and turn it into a special kind of power! Most users can do the basics of magic gathering on their own but there was supposed to be something different about this! I know it! Nothing about it was supposed to be dangerous or fizzle out like that. At least that’s what the king told me,” She let out a tight hiss as she held the paper, looking it over once more before she set it down. “I could’ve sworn I did everything correctly…so why did it not work?”

She stood in silence as Mrs. Chidera looked through the book.  Her eyes swept the pages a multitude of times before she shook her head, sighing. “Well, I suppose I know what I’m going to be wishing for.” She slipped off her gloves as Asha watched her pick up a smaller pink beaker.

“You’re going to wish for your runes to be solved?” she asked in disbelief as she followed Mrs. Chidera out of the private section towards the fountain where many passing maintainers and apprentices held their own wishes. 

Mrs. Chidera nodded and withdrew an orb that was a pleasant mix of yellow, and blue as it held the picture of several runes within it.

“Partially,” she repeated, as Asha watched her smile, tentatively holding the orb close. “If there’s anyone who can figure this out then it would be the king.”

Asha glanced towards the orb Mrs. Chidera now held. Despite the smile on her face, Asha could see the blue within her wish. 

She wasn’t just hopeful about this. She was…sad. “Wait, but don’t you want to be the one to solve it? You’ve already gotten so far and you’re so close! If you figured it out on your own then you’d be able to negotiate for more funding in the future for more projects!!

“I understand what you’re saying and I do want to solve this…. But I’ve been at this for at least a few years now, Asha and despite my best efforts, all of my results fail. Then there’s the issue of it being perhaps a little too unpredictable to test here. I can’t risk doing it here if it could potentially hurt someone,” She glanced at the recently formed streak of yellowish-green grass behind them as the head official nervously nodded in agreement.

 Asha didn’t know if the grass turning color had been an unintended side effect of the runes but seeing the lack of panic in Mrs. Chidera’s face almost made her think that the color change of the grass was…expected.

She shook her head as Mrs. Chidera glanced at her wish, the image of the runes coming into view within the small orb. “The reality of the situation is that I could spend years, decades, perhaps even a lifetime on this, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to find the answer. But the king cannot afford to wait so long, not after I promised him feasible results. So I will take my findings to him. He’s better equipped to grant it than anyone else I can think of.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Asha dared to ask, as she saw the head official and several maintainers frown. 

She’d nearly forgotten that they’d been here, as she’d felt the urgent need to convince Mrs. Chidera to not do it. 

To not wish.

She knew that convincing the head maintainer of all people to not make a wish was a foolish thing to do. But part of her feared that if the king granted Mrs. Chidera’s wish, she would not get the credit she deserved.  

She didn’t want to think of how people would overlook Mrs. Chidera in favor of the king. It was one thing when people did it to her, but it would be another if they did it to Mrs. Chidera, who had spent nearly her entire life doing this. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Mrs. Chidera gave her a small grin, before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Then that is the matter of the king. Even for those he does not grant, he protects them, both from the evil on earth and from above-,” 

She knew that those words were meant to comfort her. 

She truly did, and a part of her did appreciate the effort. But no matter how hard she tried, she knew she couldn’t feel the same faith nor relief that Mrs. Chidera and everyone else in Rosas seemed to feel towards the king. 

She knew why as well. 

The king may have been a sorcerer, but behind all of the intricate spells and politics, he was nothing more than a man.  Susceptible to flaw, faltering, and failing.

She knew.

He’d let her down before. 

She wouldn’t let it happen again. 

Her throat felt strangely dry as she softly asked “You’re sure there’s no better way to send your findings to the king? I could deliver the message if you want,”

Mrs. Chidera shook her head. “I appreciate the help, but he requested that I send whatever findings I obtained to him in the form of a wish. I can’t risk putting it on a letter that can be intercepted.”  

“Hey!” came a voice that shocked her as she watched the figure of the official woman set forward. She rolled up her sleeves, offering Asha a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. To Asha’s surprise, she wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from an unamused Mrs. Chidera. “You’re the king’s apprentice, right? The one he sent here to ‘oversee’ the decorations?”

“Yes ma’am…I am.” Asha hesitantly nodded as the other maintainers, save for Mrs. Chidera, disappeared from view. 

“Hmm...polite. I like that. Look, I know I’ve seen you before or at least heard of you. But just to be clear, because my memory isn’t all that it used to be…Tell me, are you the one that can talk to animals?”

“No ma’am.” Several more officials that she’d seen from earlier came into view, some looking on with more unease than others.

 “I’m pretty sure that one is named Safi,” said one of the officials.

“Right, I knew that. Well…are you the one who sings the cool, catchy songs that for some reason always make me happy? You know The one who always carries around honey for God knows what.”

“Hmm...no, ma’am.”

“That’s Hal,” she heard another official point out.

“Ohh! Ok! Don’t tell me- You’re the plant girl, right? Huge fan. I mean Plants are better than people! Am I right?”

“No ma’am, I’m not-,” Asha didn’t even know who the plant girl was supposed to be. 

“Fairly certain that the person you’re speaking of is Bazeema?” A third official pointed out.

“Oh!” The head official nodded. “So which ones are left?”

Quietly the officials glanced at each other murmuring something as someone said, “I’m fairly certain that’s the one named Asha.”

“Asha! Asha! Of course! I knew that!” She laughed, practically brimming with excitement as she looked at her. “So what sort of magical thing can you do?”

“If we’re not mistaken…She doesn’t have any magical abilities.”

The head official visibly deflated. “She doesn’t? Aw, I wanted to see a magic trick today! I was excited when I heard the king was sending one of you out here. But I didn’t think it was the only non-magical one!” She face-planted, muttering under her breath, “Of Course, the Westerners got the cool plant apprentice and all the magical ones. They always get the best stuff!”

Asha nearly huffed at the shared disappointment between the head official and her subordinates. She was cool! Sure she couldn’t talk to animals, give people earworms, or manipulate weeds but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do things too!

The fact that the head official had more or less publicly established or rather figured out that she was so low on the pecking order wasn’t going to make this any easier either. She could see in the way how the woman relaxed that this could spell potential disaster for her plans.

 “Well ma’am,” she began. “The truth of the matter is that I might not have outward powers but I do have certain abilities?”

 “Abilities?” Now the woman seemed intrigued. “And what can you do?”

 “Well I have a great memory and I can stress like no one else can.”

 A few of the officials chuckled as she watched the head official grin. “Ha! So you’ve got a sense of humor, now do you? I like it—the name’s Lady Allard. I remember hearing about you… you’re from around here, aren’t you?”

“Yes ma’am I am,” Asha tried not to tense at the thought of what she might’ve heard from the others, but judging by how bright her smile was, maybe it had been…positive?

“Good, good, a fellow easterner. So you know how important this whole market thing is, then, don’t you?” She nodded, watching as the smile on Lady Allard’s face grew melancholic. “It seems as if some have made it something of a competition you know? Like they think the king uses it as a way of deciding which part of Rosas is more worthy of wish granting than the other.” Asha glanced from her to Mrs. Chidera who’d been looking on from her spot near the mossy doorway. 

“Isn’t that right, Lady Chidera?” Lady Allard gave her a look for reassurance. 

Mrs. Chidera shrugged, before turning back to her table, neither approving nor disproving what the woman said as she abruptly made her exit.

Now, Asha was quite certain that the answer to Lady Allard’s question was no. 

There was a good chance that the king had already selected the wishes long before he had even considered coming to the markets. But she wasn’t sure if telling Lady Allard this would be her best course of action.

If Lady Allard truly liked her then she needed to keep it that way, just long enough to persuade her. 

Lady Allard sighed, glancing at the cloudy sky as she continued. “But speaking of market decorations, it hasn’t helped that the eastern market is at a bit of a disadvantage when it comes to decorating itself in comparison to its… more affluent siblings, if you understand-,” she glanced towards Asha who quickly nodded once more. 

That was true. Every year without fail she’d always hear people talk about the beauty of the Western market, something that would be hard to beat given how much more money they could throw at the problem. 

She quickly nodded. “Y-yes of course! I do understand!”

“Good. Then you know how important this market decoration is to us. It isn’t just a matter of national pride but security!”

“Security?” Asha asked.

“Of Course! It’s the best way for us to get the king’s attention and once we have that we can get our wishes granted!” 

Her eyes sparkled with hope that Asha couldn’t help but feel pity for as she nodded and seamlessly lied“I completely agree! And that’s why I’m here to help!”

“Oh? You want to help me?” Lady Allard’s expression was a mixture of surprise and amusement as she took a step back looking over Asha.

“Yes ma’am! I’d love to help you!” Asha began carefully, cautious at the amusement in her eyes. It looked eerily similar to the look she’d given Julian. “I’m a fan of your work, and I admire your aspirations too.”

“You hear that?” She saw Lady Allard smugly grin as her companions nodded. “I have an admirer!”

“How could I not admire you? You only want everyone else to get their wishes granted! And what better way to do it than by making a statement at the annual market decorations? The king does look forward to those every year.”

That of course, had been a complete lie. But the classic tale of the admiring poor, helpless peasant who looked up to the noble’s generous acts worked every time.  

She held her breath as the officials slowly nodded in agreement, all of them sounding pleased as she watched Lady Allard gazed at her thoughtfully as she tried to press forward. “Of course with your permission, I would like to volunteer my services as someone who’s worked with the king a few times, I know his current tastes and dislikes. I’m also very aware of what he considers to be, on the outdated side.”

She paused, taking in the faces of the officials turned audience.

They were all looking on so intently that she could practically feel them hanging onto her every word as their eyes followed her hands to her sketchbook. 

This was it. 

She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves, hoping to appear perfectly calm. 

Magical powers or not, she was just as if not more composed than any of the other apprentices. “So I’ve been designing some things that I think you’d find quite helpful in the decorations this year, and I was hoping that we could-,”

Lady Allard cut her off with a sharp wave. “Oh, that’s Lovely! But I’m afraid there’s no need for it, as we’ve got everything taken care of!” Asha froze, barely feeling Lady Allard’s arm abruptly withdraw from her shoulders as she watched her step by, quickly gesturing to the officials and servants who were now entering. 

No need? 

Asha blinked. She’d been expecting to hear that from the Western officials, and she’d accepted it. But the eastern market officials?  

She hadn’t imagined it playing out like this. “You…you’ve already gotten everything taken care of?”

 “Of course, we do,” Lady Allard beamed as she watched several servants step past them. They were all carrying boxes full of beautiful cloth and decorations. Gingerly Lady Allard dipped her hand into a passing box and withdrew a few fabrics for Asha to view.  “As you can see here, our dear quotidian apprentice, we’ve done some research of our own. And this- this is the key to winning the market competition this year! I’ve figured out just what we needed to do and as you can see-,” she gestured to a servant who carried a large sheet of paper that had a red arrow trending upwards. “I have the results to show for it.”

“For our town!” One official cried. 

“For my tenure!” Lady Allard dramatically exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart as the other officials nodded in agreement. “It took me a while to realize it, to put the pieces all together but when I did it all came to me as I realized what the key to getting our wishes granted was!” She took a breath, searching Asha’s eyes before asking, “Do you know what it is?”

“Luck?” Asha asked, trying to keep her voice even. 

She shook her head, stepping back. “No, well, yes, but- what the king seems to like the most is consistency!” Asha watched the woman pace around the nearby fountain.  “And what better way to show him that than through the patterns of decoration?” She gestured to the various objects that the servants withdrew from the boxes. “For the past few years, we’ve been focusing our efforts on showing a consistent trend through our decorations. And for the most part, it’s worked! Just a few months ago, the king granted one of the wishes on this side of Rosas! Wonderful isn’t it?”

“Indeed!” Asha nodded, barely giving any of the official’s words any thought. 

She hadn’t missed when the women had called her quotidian . She felt her hands slowly clenched into fists as her breathing threatened to become uneven.

She couldn’t get upset, not in front of the officials who weren’t afraid to laugh at her for it.

There was a time and place for everything, but now was not the time to get angry.  Now was the time to get persuasive .

 Asha gave the woman a polite smile that she’d solely reserved for the town officials.  “It certainly looks…expensive.”

“It is! It cost me a small fortune, but it’ll all be worth it. With the increasing number of wishes that this part of Rosas makes, we must do everything in our power to ensure that the king will feel…what’s the word?”

“Persuaded?” one official asked.

 “Swayed?” answered another. 

 “Compelled?” Asha commented slowly, releasing her fists as she met Lady Allard’s excited gaze.

“Yes, that’s it! Compelled to grant our wishes, and as you know, he only grants wishes that he deems are the best for Rosas. So tell me, what is better for a kingdom than security? Stability? Consistency?”

On any other occasion, she would’ve just smiled and nodded, but that word quotidian that Lady Allard had used to describe her had foolishly lit a fire within her. She could feel the fire growing, sending its flames coursing through its veins as it began to dangerously devour every ounce of fear she’d once held.

To be honest, quotidian was a rather truthful word to describe her, as in the magical kingdom of Rosas, she was a quotidian person, and she could live with that. 

But if it were going to be the reason why her old school teachers' wishes didn’t get granted, then Lady Allard was in for a terrible surprise. 

Keeping her voice perfectly even, Asha interjected, “Of course, all of those things are wonderful for a kingdom, but-,”

“But?” Lady Allard repeated, raising a brow in her direction.

“These have been the same decorations for the past 2 years. How do you know that the king won’t mistake consistency for complacency? A kingdom cannot flourish and thrive without growing and expanding. So I propose that for this year we could make the decorations look like a mixture of both new and old. We could pay homage to the past while moving forward.”

For a moment no one said anything as she heard the thunder roll above once more. A few servants and officials risked a glance towards the gray cloudy sky, but Asha knew better than to take her eyes off of Lady Allard.

As if sensing these thoughts, Lady Allard’s eyes never left hers either, as her expression quickly became unreadable.

She had a feeling that the only thing that had saved her from the public mockery that Julian had suffered was her convincingly collected demeanor. It was hard to mock someone when they were polite, wasn’t it?

Lady Allard’s silence was all the answer she needed as neither refused to look away. 

The silence continued until she saw one of the maintainers re-enter the room. “My Lords and ladies,” he said with a stiff bow as all eyes turned to him. “There’s someone outside the wish gardens who seeks to have an audience with you.”

“Ah, it’s probably Dante,” she heard one of the officials mutter underneath his voice as he turned to Lady Allard.

“Go,” she commanded, her voice lacking any sort of amusement or humor. “I’ll join you soon.” 

Wordlessly, they hesitantly nodded as one by one they began to make their exit, leaving Asha alone with Lady Allard. The one noble who’d tried to plead with Julian lingered, casting Asha something of a sympathetic glance before he too left the garden.

Lady Allard was still silent, staring Asha down as the thunder continued to roll overhead. Finally, she spoke, her voice cool yet quiet. “You know. I think I understand you now.” She slowly nodded. “Before I thought you were just another kid who was being difficult. But now I see what this is all about. I’ve been there before you and I mean technically, I’m still there.” She shrugged, her fingers grazing the petals of a nearby petunia flower.  “When I heard that the king had selected me of all people to be the old town officials, replacement. I knew I had a lot to prove, and I’m sure you understand that in your position too, don’t you? We’ve got a lot to prove. Neither of us can afford to lose.”

Asha said nothing, watching as the noblewoman sighed, and thoughtfully looked up as thunder began to roll once more. “I admire the creativity kid—the desire to push the boundaries and test the limit. I do. But it all seems so…risky. Risky and untested.”

“Only because it’s never been given a chance-,” Asha started, careful to keep her voice gentle yet understanding. 

But Lady Allard shook her head. “Or it’s not a chance worth taking. Riddle me this, kid, are you prepared to deal with the fallout of your actions if the decorations don’t strongly persuade the king? Do you want to see what will happen if you fail?” She gestured to the mossy and ivy-colored walls around them, lowering the volume of her voice as she whispered. “All these people need is one reason, to blame someone for something going wrong, and then you can kiss your little apprenticeship goodbye. So take it from me, kid, it’s best to stick with what works. If not for the sake of others, then at least for your own.”

“I understand and appreciate your advice, your ladyship but-” Asha began, straightening her posture as she evenly met Lady Allard’s chilly gaze. “-If I don’t ever step up, then I’ll never be ready. I’ll just be complacent. Complacently quotidian .”

“It’s not always about complacency,” Lady Allard answered, a pleasant smile surprisingly making its way back onto her face. “Sometimes you just need to learn to properly pick and choose your battles.”

Now it was Asha’s turn to give her a small smile, one that she was sure didn’t reach her eyes. “With all due respect my lady, I believe I’ve had more than enough experience during my apprenticeship to know which battles are and are not worth it. It was in the king’s judgment that I become an apprentice as it will also be under his judgment which wishes will be granted. If you don’t approve my designs for the decorations then I will respect that, but I at least implore you to give me a chance to show you that I can do more than just watch. That is of course unless I need to tell the king that there will be no need in the future to send apprentices if all is settled here.”

“Is that a threat?” Lady Allard asked, her eyes gleaming dangerously with challenge.

Tentatively, Asha shook her head. “No my lady, I merely ask you to explore your options. If the king were to learn that I didn’t contribute anything here then it might speak poorly for both of us. If his majesty has deemed it important enough to send me to not only oversee things but meet me here then that means he has far more stakes in this than either of us can realize.”

 “The king is coming here?” she saw as Lady Allard’s eyes widened in shock.

 She nodded, a small part of her reveling in the terror that was starting to become apparent in the noblewoman’s eyes. “Yes, your ladyship.”

 “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?!”

 Suppressing her urge to smile, Asha calmly answered, “Apologies my lady, I thought he had informed all eastern officials of it ahead of time as he promised to meet me here by nightfall.”

For a moment Lady Allard looked as if she’d fall to pieces. She’d revealed that the king wasn’t communicating with her or the other officials here as most as one would think. Had it been the officials elsewhere, Asha had a feeling that none of them would’ve flinched. They’d have all known well ahead of time. But she hadn’t.

No wonder she was so concerned about playing it safe with her tenure, she was on thin ice, wasn’t she?

Like any noblewoman of Rosas, Asha watched as with a few deep breaths, she managed to pull herself together, looking perfectly poised, prim, and proper before she crossed her arms. 

Although it’d be able to fool any onlooker, this façade would do her no good against Asha.

She’d already revealed herself to have a weakness, and of course, it was the same weakness that any nobleman or woman of Rosas had, but her situation had sounded a bit precarious. 

As if debating something, she finally nodded, crossing her arms as she looked at Asha with an air of finality. 

Asha couldn’t tell if she’d angered her or amused her from the way she’d begun to smile, but seeing as how she wasn’t laughing, Asha was more than willing to consider this a victory.

A victory that is, right until she heard that dreadful note of amusement in her voice as she began to speak. “Alright then…Perhaps I misjudged you…. Since you’re so determined, how about we do this? I’ll give you something in the market to decorate. If I and the majority of the others like it, then who knows maybe you’ll get to integrate your designs elsewhere before nightfall. This of course will be done under the agreement that you at least put in a few good words for me to both the king and the prince.”

Asha smiled and curtsy, before arguably giving the best performance of her life “Of course your ladyship. I’m honored by your kindness.” 

Her Saba would’ve been proud of how well she’d lied through her teeth. But it had been necessary.  She’d partially gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she?

Now all she needed to do was rally the star and a few of her old school teachers to help her make whatever corner of the market she’d be given, look splendid. Then they could move on to the rest of the market. 

Contrary to what the noblewoman in front of her was hoping, decorating the whole market didn’t intimidate her. Not when she had planned to use this as an opportunity to grant her old school teachers’ wishes…

If she could grant their wishes, not only would she keep them happy, but she’d keep their wishes safe from whatever those strange figures were planning. 

It was perfect!

“Wonderful!” Lady Allard called as a servant stepped forward, offering the noblewoman a scroll, as Asha watched her quickly unfurling it to reveal a map of the market. Her finger lightly grazed the map’s surface as she cleared her throat, “We’ll start the market decorations in about an hour. Don’t be late.”

Asha nodded. “Yes ma’am. Where do you wish for me to decorate?

 She hummed, her eyes carefully scanning the map until Asha watched her finger point to the last place she wanted. “How about here? Do you know what this is?”

“The wilted tree?!” Asha exclaimed. The old wilt tree had been the ugliest tree in the market, tucked away in a dark corner that nearly no one ever ventured! Some had even said that the tree was cursed! How was she supposed to make that look beautiful?!

 “Oh! So you do know it!.” She grinned, rolling the scroll back up as she handed it to the servant. Her eyes never left Asha’s as she heard her say, “Well I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with it!” “Now then, since we have that all settled. We’ll take our leave. Remember an hour in the town square.”

Asha nodded, following them out of the wish garden and into the now-crowded streets. She had nearly been engulfed by the crowd as she passed a smaller building that shared a likeness to the mural hall in the castle’s market. 

Standing on her toes, she caught sight of several artists painting something beneath the murals, what they were painting, she couldn’t see, as she glanced toward the tarped section that stood in the middle of the murals.

It was probably where the final mural would go.

She wasn’t sure what it was about this final mural that had garnered so much attention and anticipation. But she didn’t care very much to find out, not when she had to ensure that the star, could not and would not see the murals.

There was no telling how he’d react if he did, especially given the fact that he knew other stars. 

She sighed, thinking it over as she continued to move towards where the old wilt tree was, which fortunately for her, was located in the furthest corner from the murals. 

Finally, she managed to make her way to where the old tree was, in the darkest part of the market, away from the sight and presence of life that normally consumed the rest of the market.

She felt her hope diminish as she stood at the foot of the twisted tree, watching as its gnarly branches reached towards the sky.

There was no way she could make this tree of all things look presentable in a few hours.

Heck, she was willing to bet that the king with all of his magical abilities probably wouldn’t be able to do it either!

Seriously, what was up with her luck lately? First, she couldn’t convince the officials to worry about the plants and forest. ‘ The king will handle it they’d said.’

 Then she couldn’t convince the prince to inform her about the other strange happenings of Rosas. ‘ I and the other apprentices will handle it, he’d said.’

She’d traveled this far to try to subtly inform Mrs. Chidera of possible danger and to not give up her wish to the king. ‘The king will handle it,’ she’d said.

 What would her life have been like if she’d been born to a title like the prince? Or had amazing magical abilities like the king and the other apprentices? 

 In her heart, she knew that she didn’t want the answer, not if it meant sending her further into despair than she already was. 

 She hadn’t missed how Lady Allard had looked at her. 

 Maybe Lady Allard had wanted to make some sort of public example out of Julian, but the look in her eyes when Asha had asked to prove herself had nearly reminded her of the king’s face when he’d given her all these tasks to do.

 Both of them wanted to teach her a lesson, and both of them were certain she wouldn’t succeed that much she could be certain of.

 But she’d still taken on the king’s challenge, hadn’t she? She’d taken it on and to her credit, she’d gone much further than she or the king would’ve’ expected.

 Why did this have to be any different?

 As tempting as showing off her designs would be, she wasn’t doing this for herself. She was doing this for her family, and now her teachers.

It wasn’t a matter of pride or acceptance or even lessons.

It was about helping them.

She swallowed, feeling herself nod.

She could do this.

She’d done the impossible before, hadn’t she? And she could do it again whether or not they believed in her!

She crossed the street, briefly reminding herself not to panic as she made her way towards the inn. If her previous panic had brought down a star, then what would this panic do? Bring down a meteorite?!

Her hands trembled as she pushed open the heavy wooden door to the inn, thankful that Mr. Bjorn was too busy in the kitchen to grin at her as she made her way to her room.

From the hallway, she could see that Ignacio and his staff’s rooms were still occupied. They all were probably catching up on the sleep that they’d missed from the night before. Well, that was assuming that they were still in their rooms, anyway.

Turning to her door, Asha carefully yet quietly knocked. She’d have entered before, but the last thing she wanted to do was walk in while Cepheus was changing. 

“Um, hello?” she called, nervously glancing down the hallway for any sign of an eavesdropping Mr. Bjorn. The coast was clear…for now. She could hear movement within the room as she knocked again, this time frowning. “Valentino, are you there?’ she called, hearing the small goat bleat.

“Alright, so you give me one bleat if it’s safe for me to come in and two bleats if it’s not ok?”

He bleated once.

Ok, so it was safe, or whatever safe meant when you shared room space with a star.

She carefully pried the door open as she stepped in, taking in the sight of an excited Valentino who was near the foot of the star’s bed where his exposed arm hung.

He was lying in the bed wrong, with his head at the end where his feet should’ve been.

Not wanting to surprise the star, she quietly yet soundly approached the bed, standing over it as she heard him move beneath the sheets.

 Against her better judgment she reached forward, pulling the sheets up as she spoke, “You’re still here?”

She blinked in surprise as the sight of an empty bed greeted her.

“Always,” came his voice as she saw him now standing in front of the fireplace. He was standing dangerously close to the door. “By the way, it’s nice to see you too.”

She looked from the bed to where he stood, then back to the bed. There was no way he could’ve gotten up and past her, in the amount of time it took her to take off the sheet. Was…was he teleporting? She didn’t know much about teleporting, other than that it had been an advanced form of magic. Maybe that was how he’d been surprising her.

“You can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what?” he innocently asked.

“Teleport! You can’t teleport when you’re in public!” she exclaimed. 

 “But…I’m not,” he sniffled, his voice growing soft as she looked him over. His once dark eyes had now become a stormy gray that matched the sky, as she saw him brush back a now black-colored lock of hair. There was something rather meticulous about his gaze as he looked her over as well. 

 She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought and the fear it brought. “So you want to tell me that, that’s just you moving?” He nodded. She opened her mouth to argue, but come to think of it, she didn’t want to know the answer. 

 It was too early for this.“Fine,” she sighed, before eyeing him carefully. “What are you up to?”

 “Other than securing a completely decisive victory today, nothing much really.,” he said as she watched him unhappily gesture to his cape as he looked himself over. 

Now he looked really unhappy as she heard him sniffle once more. Maybe it had been the light of the nearby fireplace, but she could’ve sworn that she saw tears well in his eyes.

“Cepheus…is something wrong?” she asked, fear filling her as she saw him lower his head as his hair shrouded his eyes from view. Slowly he nodded, his smile vanishing as he looked devastated.

She quickly exchanged a nervous glance with Valentino, as numerous possibilities ran through her mind. 

Was he still missing home? There was no telling what a homesick star would do, especially if he found out that he just so happened to be staying in the kingdom that belonged to the king who had a history of slaying his kind. 

Granted, he didn’t seem like an important or well-seasoned star, but still, he was unpredictable, and that in and of itself was dangerous .

To her horror, she watched as he suddenly appeared next to her on the bed, his hands trembling as he now held the cape in his hands. “This cape,” he whispered, as she heard his voice waver. 

“What? What about the cape-,”

“This cape is too small! Why are earth capes so small? Who does this benefit!! Did science do this?!”

“Oh my gosh,” she sighed as she heard Valentino bleat in a way that sounded suspiciously close to laughter. “You’re really that upset about a cape?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? Everyone knows that the best people were long exquisite capes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly could not tell you one cool person I know who wears a long cape.”

 “That’s true,” he sniffled. “You did just meet me, so I guess I don’t count yet. Are you sure I can’t just conjure up another one?”

And risk the prince or God forbid, the king sensing the magic in it? Absolutely not. She shook her head. “Look, we can grab a longer cape on our way out, alright? We need to focus on the task ahead of us today!”

“Yes, yes the market,” he murmured as she saw him adjust his sleeves. “I remembered.”

“Good. Now we have to get moving.” She spoke as she stood and made her way towards the door. “There’s been a change of plans…”

[evil-rip]

Hello!! Could you do headcannons for splinter being a granddad to one of his son's kid? Maybe a kid he had with the reader (leaving the turtle up to the imagination)

Thanks and have a great day! Love ur stuff btw :)

Thank you for requesting! I'm really happy to write more of good old Splints and that the last one post with him was so liked :3

⭐Grandpa Splinter!⭐

Goes with totally different tactic to raise his grandchildren. After all he isn't the one who has to do everything and can just stick for the fun parts!

Enjoys babysitting. Takes little one for the walks, tells stories about clan, plays every game, sings lullabys.

He would totally watch japanese tv shows with his grandchild on his knees.

I think that the grandkids wold easily fall asleep when he hold them. The fur, would be probably pretty cozy.

Little Lou Jitsu costume! No... Everyone gets Lou Jitsu costume! Time for family photoshoot.

Will be telling his sons that they spoil the kid too much while he can't say no to this little face and big eyes.

So dramatic. He always worries that the little one will get hurt doing so simple, normal things, it's unbelievable. I just wonder why he didn't worry when he gave him nunchaks.

Splints is his the one who want to immortalize every minute of child's life by filming everything. On some films you can here him sobbing from happiness behind the camera. He gets very emotional sometimes.

When grandchild would be learning how to speak don't be surprised if his first word would be grandpa. Splinter is trying really hard to make this happen.

If we talk about talking... He love to listen to kiddo. Also he totally will tech him some wired word's to screw with his dad a little. He wouldn't mind talkive grandchild at all.

He calls his grandchild little one. If there would be more of them then would be probably, the biggest one, the smallest one, the tallest one etc. Just like with his sons.

Packs cute lunches to school. Splinter is really proud of it. He isn't good at it unfortunately. But Mikey does help him make it work. He changes things that rat burned, adding ingredients that he forgot, switching his poorly cut out shapes, being at the same time unnoticed by his dad. Pops is happy and kid has eatable meal.

He would be wonderful hair stylist. Braids, ponytails and much more isn't a challenge for him. Totally will let little one play with his hair and give him makeover. Well unless it won't end up with pulled out fur for him. If this happend once He would take to his heels whenever he sees his grandchild with comb in hand and probably hide behind Raphael.

Won't be letting kiddo win every game. Nope, this isn't his style. Even if he knows that his grandchild will be unreasonably mad, sad, noisy about it, like some kids are, he just won't lose any game on porpoise bc "He must learn how to lose". Well it will be like that untill his sons make him change that.

Gave little one plushies that look like every person in family. To symbolize that they are always with him even when they seem not to be.

When he has problem with grandkid first of all Splints calls to April for help. She worked with children, she should know what to do, right?

I hope that is what you wanted ☺️ have a good day sweeties ❤️

[twomanyideas]

Santu Claus is Coming to Town

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 @becausewritingshouldbefun January 2023 Challenge Prompt: New Beginnings Pairing(s): Gray x Natsu, Sting x Rogue, Lyon x Erza (mentioned) AO3 | Ch 1 | Next: Ch 2

Summary: It's the most wonderful time of the year... supposedly. Natsu, in his absence, has taken Gray's Christmas spirit with him, and an unfortunate event from Rogue's childhood has him dreading the holiday altogether. Needless to say, they're not particularly excited about attending their Aunt Ur's annual Christmas eve party. But the night turns out to be full of surprises, making it one they certainly won't be forgetting anytime soon.

Chapter 1: Santa Bring My Bastard Back to Me

Christmas had always been Gray’s favorite holiday. That often surprised people, given he wasn’t exactly the most cheerful person to be around, but there was just something in the air that never failed to lift his spirits.

But this year was different, and while he hadn’t yet reached ‘Bah, humbug’ levels of bitterness, he was skirting fairly close.

The reason was simple. 

Natsu, his childhood best friend and boyfriend, had gotten himself stuck on another fucking continent with no chance of getting home before Christmas. And yeah, Gray knew all too well that he was being unreasonable for feeling this way. It wasn’t Natsu’s fault they’d canceled all flights out of Rivera because of a massive snowstorm.

But after five years of only being able to see each other on the occasional weekend and during school breaks, Gray had been looking forward to spending more time together now that he was back home. Instead, they both got swept up by work. Gray was lucky enough to have landed an entry level position at an architectural firm soon after he'd graduated, and while Natsu still worked for his dad, he’d gotten promoted last year. Now he traveled along with Igneel for work so often, it felt like Gray saw him even less than before.

Was spending Christmas together really too much to ask?

“Please tell me that’s not what you’re planning to wear to your aunt’s party.” 

Gray looked up to find his mother frowning at him. It took a minute for her words to pierce through his self pity, but when they did, it just added to his misery.

He’d completely forgotten all about his aunt’s Christmas Eve party.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I could just stay home?” he asked. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning cheer at a loud family party.

“If he’s not going, then I’m not either,” his younger brother Rogue said as he plopped down on the sofa next to him, destroying any chance Gray might have had of his mother taking pity on him. The smug look Rogue flashed him let him know the bastard knew it, too.

Great. Thanks a lot, half-pint.

“You're both going, and that’s final. Now, go change into something a little more festive,” Mika directed, putting her hands on her hips as she looked back and forth between Gray’s sweatpants and Rogue's all black getup. “How about those Christmas sweaters I bought you?” 

Gray touched a hand to his forehead. “Will you look at that? I think I have a fever. I must be coming down with something.”

“Yeah, me too.” Rogue said, faking a cough.

“Oh come on guys, it’ll be fun,” their mother badgered as she paced to the kitchen and back, gathering all the food she was bringing to the party. “This is the first time in a long while the whole family will be together. Even Ultear made it.”

That touched a nerve. What was she talking about? The whole family would not be there.

Besides, what did Gray care if Ultear and her asshole husband had graced them with their presence when Natsu wasn’t around to make fun of them?

“Wow. Nice, mom.” Rogue rolled his eyes and sighed.

“What?” She paused, her eyes widening as she finally realized her mistake. “Oh honey, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gray grumbled, even though it did kind of hurt that she’d forgotten Natsu’s absence so easily. You’d think she’d notice. The guy had only been terrorizing their pantry since they were ten, and they’d been a couple since his freshman year of college.   

He got up from the sofa and headed off to his room to change into something his mother wouldn’t give him a hard time over. Rogue followed, looking about as thrilled as he felt. Gray doubted either of them would be wearing those Christmas sweaters. 

It took some searching, but he found a shirt that was ironed and wouldn't have him sweat to death. He’d just located a clean pair of pants when the doorbell rang, soon followed by the elated sounds of his mother greeting their visitor.

He knew it couldn’t be Natsu. He hadn’t rung their doorbell since he was twelve, just made his way in through whatever door was open. Even so, Gray couldn’t quite silence the part of him that desperately hoped his boyfriend had somehow made it home in time.

He quickly finished dressing and went back downstairs, skipping the last steps when he caught the sounds of someone rummaging through the fridge. For a second, he truly believed he’d find Natsu grabbing the makings of one of his monstrous sandwiches with whatever leftovers he could find, but his mother shattered that illusion before Gray could even come out to see for himself.

“For God’s sake Sting, get out of my fridge,” she complained, “I swear you’re as bad as Natsu!”

“Lay off him, Mika, he’s sixteen. You know better than anyone that teen boys are always hungry,” his father snickered, tossing Sting an apple from the fruit basket that sat on the counter.

“Thanks, Mr. F!” Sting inhaled the apple while peering into the multiple shopping bags full of food and drink Mika had lined up, no doubt studying their contents and making a mental list of what he was going to eat first. 

“Are you sure you’re bringing enough?” Silver glanced at Mika as she packed a box with as many bottles of wine as she could safely fit. 

Mika stopped what she was doing and gazed at Silver worriedly. “Do you think I should bring more?” 

Gray had never figured out whether his mom was really oblivious to his father’s sarcasm or whether she just enjoyed playing dumb. Either way, he rarely got a rise out of her.

“I think we should go.” 

“Not yet. We’re waiting for the boys.” 

“Gray still moping around?” 

“I am not moping, I’ll have you know,” Gray said, entering the kitchen before his parents got too comfortable talking about him. “Of course,” he sighed, taking in Rogue’s best friend and his ridiculous Christmas elf costume, complete with red suspenders, bells on his hat, and even bells on his bright green shoes. Of course he would, and of course it would have been Sting. Gray had been a fool to think otherwise. The guy practically lived at their house, hanging around his brother like the two couldn’t function without each other for longer than a day. 

And speak of the devil, Gray heard his brother coming down the stairs. He turned to look, fully expecting some sort of passive aggressive move to protest having to change, but for once, it looked like Rogue had actually put in some effort. 

While he was still wearing the black jeans, he’d found a clean white button-down shirt to go with them, and he’d even tied back half of his hair into a ponytail, revealing the side of his face Gray couldn't remember seeing in forever. 

“Nice!” Silver complimented him. “And perfect timing! Why don’t you help me load the car? Gray and Sting, you too.”

"Sure thing," Sting said, jingling with each step as he grabbed a couple of bags, but he knocked one of them straight into the counter when Rogue walked into the kitchen. “Ow! Hi! Sorry!” “Hey,” Rogue briefly flashed him a smile before he nodded at the bag Sting had just savaged. “Careful with that. You don't want to mess with my mom when she's full of ‘Christmas spirit’.” 

Gray snorted at that, and while his father shot them both a warning look, he didn’t disagree.

“I heard that!” Mika called out, already running around the house and turning off lights, but stopping to come at Rogue with a face that had Gray struggling to hold back his laughter. 

“My, who’s this handsome young man?” She crooned, cupping Rogue’s cheeks, and fondly gazing into his eyes as if she'd never see them both at the same time again. “Are you done?” Rogue huffed, glaring and red-faced as he let her pluck at him, taming a few rebellious strands of hair and making sure his shirt was tucked in nicely from all angles. 

“No!” she said, pulling her phone out from her jacket pocket. “You have a face. We need to take pictures.”

“What are you talking about? I always have a face.”

Now, normally Gray wasn’t a big fan of pictures, but Rogue’s hatred of them was legendary. And given how he was stuck going to this party because Rogue had opened his big mouth, he felt a little payback was in order.

“I think pictures are a great idea!” he said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he was able, just to piss him off. “How about by the tree?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Gray!”

“How about by the tree?” Rogue mocked in what sounded absolutely nothing like Gray's voice at all, and stuck out his tongue. 

“Rogue!” Mika scolded as she ushered them all out of the kitchen. “It’ll just take a minute. Besides, I have so few pictures of you.”

“Oh, right. My bad,” Rogue said, pointedly looking at the walls, which were covered in family pictures, and at the digital frame that displayed a constant slideshow of shots. 

Gray wasted no time in standing in front of their Christmas tree, a huge Isvan pine that stretched all the way to the ceiling and took up a sizable chunk of the living room, but his smile froze as soon as a picture of him and Natsu grinning like idiots as they tried to shove a s’more into the other’s mouth popped up on the digital frame. 

He could remember that day clearly. The two of them had spent the afternoon building a firepit in the backyard for his mom. They’d broken it in that evening, roasting s’mores from their deck chairs with the rest of the family. Then, after everyone else had gone inside, they’d stayed by the fire, kissing until–

“You know he’d be here if he could,” his father said, patting him on the shoulder and offering him a smile. 

“Yeah,” he said, still wrapped up in his boyfriend’s face and the memories of that night until the picture switched to one of him, Rogue, Ultear and Lyon on Lyon and Erza’s wedding day. 

“And Rogue, can we please get this over with? I’d like to leave soon.”

Rogue sighed long and deep–the closest to a yes that most would get from him these days–and followed their mother's instructions for the pictures she wanted. 

Seeing the discontent on Rogue’s face as he struggled to pose and smile to please their mom made it worth having to do the same thing, as well as keeping his mouth shut when he had to sit through the round of pics his mom shot of Rogue and Sting together. 

Look at that, the little bastard could actually smile after all. 

Rogue bolted as soon as she'd uttered the word “Alright,” grabbing Sting's hand and the car keys from the table.

“We’ll start loading the food.”

“Can someone please grab the presents?” Mika called out as she went to get more bags from the kitchen. 

Gray figured he might as well do that, so he quickly sorted through the tower of presents, grabbing the ones meant for his aunt’s house and placing them into boxes which he set in the entryway to be loaded along with everything else. Then he got to work arranging the remaining presents underneath the tree. 

He paused when he got to his present for Natsu. He’d bought him the usual ridiculous amount of candy and snacks, and he’d found a plush red dragon that he knew his boyfriend would go bonkers over. But the envelope the dragon was holding in its arms was his big present, and Gray couldn’t wait to see Natsu’s reaction when he opened it. 

When he’d heard of a new resort opening up on Mt. Hakobe, Gray had taken advantage of their introductory specials to book them a four-night stay. Then he’d gone a little crazy with the extras: tickets to their onsen, a one-hour couple's massage, lift tickets and equipment rentals, and passes to their indoor water park.

Yet for as much fun as all those sounded, it was the thought of having Natsu to himself for those four nights that thrilled him the most. They’d finally get to try out all the things they never got to do because they both lived with their parents.

He put the present down along with the others, trying very hard not to think about how much he’d wanted to give it to him tonight. 

“Oh good, you’re still here,” his mom said as she entered the room, dragging a box behind her. “Can you please take this to the car for me? I can finish up here.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gray peered at the contents before picking the box up carefully to keep from breaking any of the bottles. “That’s a lot of liquor.”

“Tis the season,” Mika smiled, grabbing presents and rearranging them to her liking.

Fair point. He was definitely planning on having more than a few drinks. He left her to it and carried the precious cargo to the car.

It wasn’t long before they’d filled up the trunk completely and were strapped into their seatbelts, each of them carrying something on their lap that didn’t fit in the back. 

“Will your father be joining us later?” Mika asked Sting once they’d backed out of their driveway.

“Yeah, he just sent me ahead cause he said I was driving him nuts.”

“Wow, shocker,” Gray muttered under his breath, earning himself a glare from both Rogue and his mother. Sting, however, gave no sign he’d heard him.

His Aunt Ur’s house was visible from a distance. She’d always put up lots of decorations, but it looked like she’d kicked things up a notch this year. Huge inflatables and dancing animatronics covered every inch of her front yard, and how she wasn’t causing a town-wide power outage with the amount of lights strung about basically everywhere was a mystery. 

Ahead of them, cars slowed down as they passed the house, while others parked and got out to examine the display up close. The whole spectacle caused them to have to park further than expected, which wasn't helping Gray’s mood in the slightest, seeing as his mother had laden him down with boxes to take inside. 

As he got closer, he discovered the animatronics played music, too. It literally looked like someone had thrown up Christmas on his aunt’s lawn. And was that a dragon?

God, if Natsu were here, he’d fucking love this. Gray could almost hear his excited cries as he oohed and aahed over every little thing. Come to think of it, shouldn’t Sting be doing the same thing right about now? He glanced over to see Sting was indeed taking in the spectacle, but he wasn’t bouncing on his feet with excitement like Gray expected him to. He was just sort of gaping at it, not a thought behind those blue eyes. “I might lose you in there,” Rogue joked, flicking the bauble replacing Sting’s regular stud earring. “You blend right in.” Gray watched Sting nearly jump out of his skin, trip over his own feet and almost drop the box of presents he was holding. Thank God it wasn’t the liquor. “Stupid shoes,” Sting laughed nervously. 

Yeah, the shoes… real smooth, Sting. Gray peered over at his brother to see what he thought of this bullshit, but the idiot looked none the wiser. As he followed his father to the front door, he could only hope that he and Natsu hadn’t been this lame.

“Uncle Silver, Gray!” Ultear opened the door before they could ring the doorbell. “Come in. We’ve been waiting for you guys.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We had to park kind of far.” 

They filed in, moving out of the way so the others could come inside. Ultear greeted them all with enthusiasm.

“Isn’t it wild?! It’s been like that all day. Someone even left a donation earlier,” she laughed. 

Gray was happy to see his cousin, but he was more interested in putting the boxes down somewhere, so he made his way into the kitchen, following the sound of laughter set to a backdrop of Christmas music. 

He counted no less than three fully decorated trees on his way there, and even though he still wished Natsu was by his side, he could feel the Christmas spell start to grab hold of him.

0-0

A/N: Well we're back with a new story and our first official collaboration for the year! This one, like most of our stories, started out as a drabble and now looks absolutely nothing like the original idea. 🤣

We had a lot of fun creating a world for them to inhabit (and we wonder why things grow outside of our control) and might revisit it at some point. You never know.

If you like it, let us know! If you have any questions about this world, ask us. You have no idea how much background we create for even the simplest story. Seriously, it's a problem!

Anyhow we hope you enjoy this first chapter, and know that the following three are already written. We'll upload them as we edit them and we plan to start on the last one in the next day or two. So bright side, we hopefully won't leave you hanging for the conclusion!

[beardedmrbean]

A state funeral for Finland's former president Martti Ahtisaari is being held in Helsinki on Friday 10 November.

President Ahtisaari's funeral begins with a service in Helsinki's Lutheran Cathedral at 1 pm when his coffin will be carried into the church with generals and admirals serving as pallbearers.

Hufvudstadsbladet writes that the public can follow the funeral procession on city streets as it makes its way from the cathedral to Hietaniemi Cemetery. The procession is scheduled to begin at 2:45 pm with the cortege escorted by mounted policemen.

Among the guests expected to be in attendance at the funeral are Sweden's King Carl XVI Gustaf, Kosovo's President Vjosa Osmani, Namibia's President Hage Geingob, Tanzania's former President Jakaya Kikwete, and the chair of The Elders group, Ireland's former president Mary Robinson.

The burial at Hietaniemi Cemetery will be attended only by Finland's state leadership and family members.

Top health threats

Mika Salminen, the newly appointed director general of Finland's THL, the Institute for Health and Welfare, discussed what currently threatens the health of people in Finland with Helsingin Sanomat, which notes that "it is not the coronavirus."

Asked about the biggest challenges to health in the country right now, Salminen pointed the problems of lack of physical activity, increased obesity, and the mental health of young people.

Regarding mental health, Salminen highlighted efforts to promote planetary health and well-being. Climate change and the threats it brings are one thing that puts a strain on young people's mental health, Salminen explained. That's why, he said, the health and social services sector also has to take responsibility for combating climate change.

As HS notes, Finland aims to eradicate the use of nicotine by 2030. Salminen expressed satisfaction with the increased popularity of not smoking, but regarding young people, the new head of THL raised concerns about the use of various other nicotine products.

"With nicotine pouches and snus and vaping products, there is a risk that there will be a setback and an increase in nicotine addiction," he says.

Over the past few weeks, there have been again growing concerns about the spread of coronavirus.

"Now the situation is that, unfortunately, the coronavirus is here to stay. Waves will come and go. The situation is fortunate in the sense that many people have taken vaccines and many have protection from coming down with it. Very few get very seriously ill anymore," Mika Salminen pointed out.

On that topic, Ilta-Sanomat carries an interview with Minister of Social Security Sanni Grahn-Laasonen (NCP) who commented on the current backlog of vaccinations.

While stressing that Ministry of Social Affairs and Health takes the situation seriously, she pointed out that the vaccination programme is the responsibility of the nation's regional wellbeing counties.

The social affairs and health ministry is urging regional health authorities to speed up the roll out of booster vaccinations for the elderly as well as people in risk groups. Grahn-Laasonen described the situation of overcrowded vaccination points as "unreasonable", especially for the elderly.

The good old days

Was life in Finland better in past years? About one in five Finns who were asked that question in a new poll answered "yes".

Carried out by the pollster Taloustutkimus and published by the Uutissuomalainen news group, three-quarters of respondents said that life in Finland is now better, or just as good, as in past decades.

Antto Vihma, a research professor at the Institute of Foreign Policy who has studied nostalgia as a social and cultural phenomenon considered the results of the survey as what he would expect.

"It may sound radical that 22 percent think that life in Finland is worse, when so many things affecting everyday life have progressed and developed. For many, however, a nostalgic relationship with the past cancels this out," said Vihma.

Vihma considers it possible that the events of recent years, such as the pandemic and the war in Ukraine, were reflected in the results of the survey.

"People feel that we are now living in a time of crises. It would be interesting to know how this question would have been answered in the 1990s, for example," he added.

The survey was carried out as telephone interviews July 10–21, 2023, and included responses from 1,001 people.

The share of those who prefer the present day increased with age and was highest in the oldest group of respondents. The youngest age group had relatively the most respondents who think that life used to be better.

Taloustutkimus Research Manager Jussi Westinen pointed out that the "past decades" mentioned in the question mean different decades for different age groups.

According to Antto Vihma, the age group-specific results differ slightly from what is known about feelings of nostalgia based on previous studies.

"Generally, people start longing for the past in middle age, and after that, the longing continues steadily until old age. In this survey, there is a clear jump around the age of 50. Older people are clearly more satisfied with the present than younger people. I would explain this by the fact that the oldest age groups place the "past decades" mentioned in the question further back in history than the younger ones do," he explained.

The poll also asked people what they most miss from the Finland of past decades.

The top answer was that Finns most want their fellow countrymen to behave according to certain norms again.

What was most often longed-for is interpersonal care, respect for good manners and decent behavior, and respect for authority. About 80–85 percent of those interviewed said these values were more common in the past and that they miss them.

Cold weather returning

Ilta-Sanomat tells readers that a noticeable change in the weather is on the way.

It reports that the latest monthly forecast from the Foreca meteorological service shows colder temperatures next week.

Mild weather will continue in southern parts of the country on Father's Day, Sunday. However, over the course of the day, the weather will cool down, turning rain to snow showers in central regions.

On Monday, snow may also be seen in southern Finland.

Next week's temperatures will be mostly below freezing. The end of the week will see temperatures in the range of -3C to -10C and in Finnish Lapland, -10C to -25C, in some places as low at -30C at night.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/the-art-of-self-destruction/

The Art Of Self Destruction

The two tall men pulled out chairs on either side of me as we sat at the lunch table.  Former colleagues from my political days, Covid had severed our connection three years ago. Now we were reviving the contact.  Happily, both men looked well though one admitted he was struggling with Diabetes. Diet is critical to controlling the disease, so  I bit my tongue when he and his companion ordered hamburgers, fries, and colas. While we waited for the order, the man without diabetes broke into a story. “ My plumber for the last twenty years fixed my toilet the other day and announced he was a transgender woman.”The man who should have ordered a salad laughed. A lifelong Republican, he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “So he/she is giving up plumbing?” “No,” said our friend.  “But I expect her to charge less.” Coffee spurted from my nose as I stifled a giggle.  It’s wrong to laugh at others, but my vulgarian self wasn’t listening. Afterward, to clear my conscience, I shared what I’d learned about transgenders while writing a blog—that sex expresses itself throughout the body in several ways and that physical differences exist between homosexual and heterosexual brains.  Science is challenging cultural norms I told my friends, and those who choose to fight change should heed the Darlek’s warning.  “Resistance is futile” What we’ve yet to understand about ourselves is the disconnect between reason and human behavior.  Being educated seems to count for nothing. Tucker Carlson and Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas are intelligent men, yet both allow truth and hypocrisy to share the same bed.  Carlson confides that he abhors Donald Trump yet is content to earn his supper by praising the man. Thomas dispenses justice to others never doubting his conduct is exempt.  “We live in a time of social upheaval,” I assured my friends as I risked another swallow of coffee. What I didn’t add was that not all change was good. Holywood has crafted a more inclusive set of standards for the Oscars, for example,  but  Richard Dreyfus says they make him want to “vomit.” The aim may be laudable, but my spine also stiffened. Art and political correctness aren’t good traveling companions.  In times of unreasoned savagery, art was obliged to offend. Intelligence, as Carlson and Thomas illustrate, lacks the power to overwhelm sentiments like greed and fear.  Against these, we have but one defense–Emotional I. Q.  It allows us to understand our feelings and use that understanding to interpret the responses of others. Unfortunately, history’s chaos suggests we’ve done little to develop that aspect of our brains.  While technology and science propel us into brave new worlds, our emotions are those we’ve carried since the stone age.  Greed and fear seem to dominate which leaves us ill-equipped to be guardians of the planet. Even so, we are moving forward with plans to adapt space as part of our infrastructure. An ambition like that gives new meaning to the Greek notion of hubris and raises a new question.  How will we confront the life forms we encounter in space? Will we embrace them with wonder?  Or will we treat differences as a reason to hate? Art has long been the vessel designed to hold revelation.  Pablo Picasso exposes our inhumanity in Guernica.  James Nachtwey’s war images beg us to feel shame. Yet the primitive brain knows how to defend itself.  If truth is painful, we become blind to it.     When our lunch visit is over,  I rise to give a hug to my two friends.  Peering over the shoulder of one with diabetes, I note he’s consumed his hamburger, fries, and cola. A line from Donna Tart’s The Goldfinch pops into my head. Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us.   Second cover teaser for the memloir, Gettling Lost tp Find Home 

[happyandticklish]

Sensitive Exploration

Notes: For the anon who requested a Hazbin fic with Angel and Alastor discovering each other’s death spot. Sorry this took so long, I had to get myself back into the mindset of the characters. I hope you enjoy the result!

Summary: Alastor has a tradition of tickling the different members of the hotel, and one day Angel decides to get him back. 

“If you just tell me, this will be over faster you know.”

“F-Fahahahack yohohou!”

Angel Dust often wondered how so often he found himself on the receiving end of Alastor’s so-called “punishments”. It was a tradition he had started a while back, after he had poked Charlie in the side and she had squeaked in response. After Charlie had sheepishly explained her reaction to him, Alastor took it upon himself to fully test the sensitivity of everyone in the hotel, as he found the subject fascinating. Not that he wasn’t aware what tickling was, of course, but it had been a long time since he had encountered the concept in a real way. It became a habit that, whenever anyone in the hotel was feeling down or being particularly grumpy that day, Alastor would tickle them until they either smiled or learned their lesson.

Charlie had been his first target, of course, and by far one of the most willing recipients. Vaggie proved to be a challenge, and Alastor only braved her wrath a couple of times. Husk had protested, but once Alastor discovered that his wings were ticklish he had quickly crumpled under his devilish touch. Nifty was simply not ticklish, a discovery that disappointed both her and Alastor greatly.

That left only Angel Dust. By the time Alastor approached him, Angel had heard and seen the other’s experiences with the radio demon and was a begging mess of giggles before the other had even touched him.

Easily the most ticklish and the most cocky of the group, Angel was the most common recipient of Alastor’s whims of fancy. He could always tell when Alastor meant to tickle him, either by a certain gleam in his eyes or a smile that was slightly more slanted than usual. There was no use protesting, but Angel did so anyway, a nervous excitement bubbling up in his voice each time. Alastor would eventually back off, once he could see the other had had enough, but he made sure to give him the wrecking of a lifetime before then.

Currently, Alastor had tendrils wrapped around all six of Angel’s limbs, pinning each one to the wall. They were inside one of the hotel’s many guest rooms, as most were unused and Alastor had wanted their time to be interrupted. Alastor was currently scribbling fingers under the first pair of armpits, while four more tendrils attacked the rest. Angel was dying, helpless cackles and squeals breaking loose as he attempted to free himself from the other’s impossibly strong grip.

Alastor was on a mission that night. He had noticed while tickling the other residents that there was usually one spot on all of them that appeared far more sensitive than the rest of their body. However, whenever he was tickling Angel he tended to go all out and thus missed each particular reaction. Tonight, however, he planned to find the other’s so-called “death spot” and exploit it for all it was worth.

“Really, it’s only going to be worse if I have to find it myself,” Alastor commented briskly, switching between light scribbles over his armpits and digging in with his thumbs. The constant fluidity of the two methods seemed to be working wonders on the spider demon who was quickly in hysterics.

“I-I’m nohohot fuhuhucking tehehelling yohohou!” Angel spat, the venom torn from his voice as his words were followed by a flood of giggles. “D-Dohoho yohohour wohohorst!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “My, my. If I’m not mistaken, it almost seems like you want me to tickle you Angel. Is that the case? Hmm? Did I get it right?”

The blush flaming on Angel’s cheeks spoke louder than his words. “Shuhuhut uhuhup!”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Yohohour fahahace ihihisn’t ahaha dehehenial!”

“Clever comeback,” Alastor responded dryly. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll simply find it all on my own.” He inspected the other critically. “Now, as sensitive as your armpits appear to be, I don’t think it’s your worst spot. Do you agree?”

Angel shook his head through his laughter, though it wasn’t clear if he was denying or affirming the statement.

“I wonder… this spot always seemed to cause quite a reaction.” With a snap of his fingers the tentacles tormenting his armpits disappeared. Angel sagged, momentary relief filling him, but in the next instant hands were squeezing his hips and electricity shot up his spine. He let out a startled yelp, his struggling increasing tenfold as he fought to get Alastor away from the area.

“And my efforts reward me.” Alastor smiled smugly, kneading his fingers into the skin. “Could this be the foretold death spot?”

“Sure! Suhuhure, yehehep, dehehefinitely!” Angel agreed, eagerly nodding his head and twisting frantically away from the surge of ticklish sensations. “Juhuhust stahahahap!”

“Sure?” Alastor wrinkled his brow. “Well that’s not very convincing.”

“Yehehes ihit ihihihis, ehehehe, stahahaha—nohoho, ahaha, pfft!”

Alastor absently spidered nails over the skin of hips, trailing down towards his lower stomach, as he considered where else the spot could be. Angel slammed his head back against the wall in frustration, squirming wildly as a cascade of wheezy squeaks escaped him. In a desperate attempt to get him to stop, Angel kicked out one of legs suddenly, trying to push the other back. Unfortunately, his resistance gave Alastor an idea.

“Ah! Right. Thank you for reminding me Angel.” He caught the other’s leg in his grasp, wrapping an arm around his ankle and locking the limb in place. “I completely forget about those knees of yours. So silly of me.”

Angel’s groan at his own self-caused destruction was cut off by a shriek as Alastor squeezed the spot right above his kneecap that had always killed him in the past. Angel burst into cackles, his leg jerking violently in the other’s hold. “No, no, no, no, no, nohohohoho! Ahahahalastor!”

“Yes?”

“Ihihihi—pfft, ahahahaha, ehehe, gahahaha!”

“You must use your words, dear.” He gripped his calf, holding his leg taut and spidering his claws over the undersides of his knees. Angel squeaked, desperation rising in his movements. “I really can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

Angel was quite possibly going to kill him after this. Or thank him. Or both.

“Well as fun as this spot is,” Alastor said, his touches featherlight and unbearable against Angel Dust’s skin. “I think there’s another place I have declined to include in this exploration. Do you know where it is?”

“D-Dohohon’t yohohou fuhuhuhucking dahahahare!”

“Whatever are you referring to?” Alastor asked innocently, but already his claws were creeping perilously close to the other’s trembling thighs.

“Y-Yohou knohow whahahat!” Angel squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable with nervous excitement. “Ahahahal, I’m whahaharning yahaha—shihiHIHIHIT!”

Angel shrieked, arching back against the wall as fingers prodded and spidered all over his thighs. He tugged desperately at each of his arms, his legs, babbling out incoherent nonsense in a useless attempt to get Alastor to stop.

“Bingo,” Alastor said, smirking.

“Fuhuhuhuck, fuhuhuck, fuhuhuhuhuhUHUHUHUhuhuhuck! StahahAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEASE!” Angel was losing his mind. His thighs had always been a kill zone, which was difficult in his line of work. Giggling in the middle of sex was not something most people were accustomed to. Not that he was particularly opposed to the combination of two of his favorite activities, but it was awkward giving out excuses afterwards. Now though, he was free to laugh and squirm all he wanted, which he did, energetically. “Ehehehe, ihihihit fuhuhuHUhucking tihihIHIHIHICKLES!”

“So it does,” Alastor exclaimed. “Astute observation. Well, I guess it’s good that you like it then.”

Angel grit his teeth, desperately wishing he wasn’t giggling like an absolute maniac so he could retain some semblance of dignity. “Yohohohou’re suhuhuhuhuhuch ahahaha dihihihick!”

“Language,” Alastor reminded him, squeezing a spot on his inner thigh that made Angel regret everything he’d ever done. “You wouldn’t want me to keep you like this forever.”

Angel’s eyes bugged out of his head at the thought as he fell into a whole new round of laughter.

As it was, he did not keep him forever but only for a couple more minutes before he finally released him. Angel let out a giggly sigh of relief, shakily supporting himself against the wall.

“That…” he panted, shooting him a glare. “Was completely uncalled for.”

“But Angel,” Alastor crooned in a way that altogether unfair. “How could I possibly resist tickling you when you look so cute laughing and helpless?”

Angel rolled his eyes, blaming the flush on his cheeks from his lack of breath. “Yeah, whatever. How would you like it if I pinned you down and tickled you whenever I felt like it?”

Angel may or may not have imagined the faint pink that tinged Alastor’s cheeks at the question. “Impossible,” he dismissed, waving a hand. “I’m not ticklish.”

“Bullshit,” Angel accused. “Everyone’s ticklish!”

Alastor shrugged. “Not me.”

“Fine then—prove it.”

“Prove it?” Alastor asked, arching an eyebrow. “And just how do you suppose I do that?”

Angel crossed his arms, leaning back confidently. “Let me tickle you.”

An unmistakable shudder made its way down Alastor’s spine at the proposition. In all fairness, even he wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. He hadn’t been tickled since he was still living, and not since he was a little boy at that. He was fairly certain he wasn’t ticklish, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

“Fine,” he said at last, calmly raising his arms above his head as though the position didn’t instantly fill him with a sense of debilitating vulnerability. “Go ahead.”

Angel had not expected the dare to work, and so was unreasonably excited at the scenario they now found themselves in. He stepped forward, placing four hands on his sides, the remaining two hanging limp by his sides and waiting for the right oppurtunity. Without any kind of prologue, Angel started quickly wiggling all twenty of his fingers against his sides and the result was glorious.

Alastor, who had not accounted for the amount of hands set against him, was overwhelmed by how unbelievably wrong he had been. He squeaked, bursting into a round of sudden giggles and attempting to somehow squirm away from the other’s touch while also not pulling his arms down or shoving him off.

“Holy shit,” Angel muttered, delight coloring his words. “You’re ticklish. This is amazing.”

“Ahahahahahaha, wahahahait, Ahahahangel! Ihihit feheheheels weheheheird!” Alastor protested, arms trembling above his head. He had completely forgotten how conflicting tickling felt, having not experienced in such a long time. A fluttery, unbearable sensation, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to rub the feeling away or have it last forever. It was truly a conundrum.

“Of course it feels weird,” Angel agreed, shaking his head incredulously. “It fucking tickles. But you know, I’m starting to feel like I can’t trust you to hold to our agreement. Maybe I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

His remaining arms reached up, securing Alastor’s wrists and pressing them and him back into the far wall. Their positions now reversed, the radio demon’s eyes widened as the true helplessness of his situation set in. Angel set in with a vengeance now, secure in the fact that the other wouldn’t fight back. Squeezing, poking, prodding, scratching, his fingers flew over Alastor’s torso in a manner that was altogether unfair and, of course, unbelievably ticklish.

“Wahahahait, wahahahait, stahahahahap!” Alastor protested, falling into a fit of laughter soon after. As it turned out, he was horridly sensitive everywhere and Angel took quick advantage of this fact.

“Why, Al? Is it bothering you?” Angel poked under his arms, scribbled fingers over his hips, squeezed the tops of his knees, kneaded his thighs, getting revenge on each and every spot that Alastor had tormented him with. Alastor yelped and jumped with each new method, wishing he hadn’t been quite so thorough in his own investigation. “Wow, you really are ticklish everywhere, huh? I can’t help but wonder though,” he said, parroting Alastor’s words from earlier. “Are these really your worst spots?”

“I-Ihihihihi dohohohon’t knohohohow!” Alastor replied honestly, desperately hoping it was because there was no way it could possibly get worse than this. He tugged frantically on his arms, shaking his head side to side in an attempt to somehow cope with the sensations.

The action gave Angel Dust an idea however. Alastor’s hair fell in his face, revealing those ears which had been a subject of fascination for the spider demon for quite some time. He narrowed his eyes, a thought occurring to him suddenly.

Leaving his armpits alone, his hesitantly scratched the soft material, his nails scratching devilishly against the spot where his ears connected to his neck. Alastor squealed, his shoulders coming up protectively as a flood of giggles spilled from his lips.

“A-Ah! Ahahahangel, wahahahait, thihihis ihihis tohohoo muhuhuhuch!” Alastor’s dignity was quickly crumbling. His chin came almost parallel to his chest as he attempted to trap the other’s fingers. “Ihihihi cahahahahan’t, plehehehease!”

“But you’re so cute,” Angel cooed, scratching right behind his ears and prompting a squeak from the other. “And I got to be honest, making you squeal like this is kind of fun.”

“YohohOHOHOHohohou—” Alastor started in angry embarrassment, but before he could get another word out, Angel moved his right hand over to the other ear as well and he broke off into staticky cackles.

“Holy shit man, is that radio static?” Angel exclaimed, fascination getting the better of him. “Does that happen when you laugh too hard?”

“STAHAHAHAP!” Alastor pleaded instead of answering, squeezing his eyes shut. “PleheEHEHEHease, STAHAHAP!”

“That’s adorable! I’m gonna have to do this more often!”

The thought was enough to send Alastor into an entirely new round of helpless laughter, and in a burst of clarity he managed to manipulate his shadows into seizing Angel Dust under the arms and pulling him away from him.

“Woah, hey, easy there,” Angel complained as the tentacles roughly escorted him on the ground. “This is prized real estate here, fellas.”

Alastor sagged against the wall, exhausted. His nerves were overstimulated from the sudden attack and he clutched his sides, trying to rub away any leftover sensation. “That was…”

“Awful?” Angel guessed, clambering to his feet. “Unbearable?”

“Exhilarating,” Alastor corrected, flushing gently. “I never realized how, ah, intense tickling could be. I can see now why you react so strongly each time.”

“Yeah,” Angel grumbled in agreement. “It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.” He paused, paling slightly. “You’re not gonna… uh, you know, do anything to me, are ya? Because you have to know I was just kidding around and I would never—”

“Angel,” Alastor interrupted. “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“Oh.” Angel frowned. “You’re not?”

“No. In fact, I… I wouldn’t be opposed, necessarily, to a repeat of earlier if the right moment ever came.” Alastor spoke plainly as always, but there was a nervous tilt to his words now. “It is possible that I may have enjoyed parts of it.”

Angel stared at him, sure that he was imagining things. Was the radio demon, the terror of hell, actually admitting to liking being tickled? And revealing this information to him, Angel Dust, no less?

Before he could formulate a response, Alastor was moving past him and down the hall, calling out to Nifty and Husk at the bottom of the stairs about some new idea or renovation he had for the hotel—acting as though he hadn’t just admitted the biggest revelation of Angel’s life seconds before. After a moment, Angel returned to his room as well, though Alastor’s words never left his mind for a second.

Life was much different in the hotel after that.

[junikshanasar]

bnha chapter 321 thoughts

?

who you???? (someone tell me, is it another manga’s character or a oneshot by horikoshi??)

Anyway Deku’s costume looks sick bro the colour of that blue/turquoise is awesome

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY THIS SPREAD-

MECHAMIGHT!!!!!

also my boy Shouto is cute as usual, iida looks unreasonably hot, and Ashido is so frickin adorable??? like look at her she’s so pretty-

man I love Horikoshi’s colouring style

unfortunately I missed the initial translations this week cause I got my second dose and was out of it for the weekend, but I’m happy I finally got to read 321 and (surprise!) 321.5!

right, let’s get into it:

Shouto has a costume change! (more design than anything but yknow)

ahh it’s nice to see the concern I mentioned in last week’s chapter acknowledged!

aww Mineta has his moment lol, but it’s true that it’s more inspiring to see someone acting despite their fear instead of not seeming scared at all (that’s the difference between being fearless and being brave)

“sorry, the old Midoriya can’t come to the phone right now“

epic-raraka!

cute-raraka!

literally have each other’s backs lol (also I wanna be carried by dark shadow too that looks so fun-)

but man, the fact that so many of class A need to combine their quirks in order to catch up with Midoriya shows how op he is now lol

Bakugou chasing Midoriya now XD

ahahahahah lookit his face lolll

but srsly speaking, I like how it’s Iida who goes to get Midoriya in the end, because as the class president, acknowledged and given the position by Midoriya himself, he’s the perfect representation for all of class A

Iida was actually the first person to challenge Midoriya, back in the beginning when they got into that small argument before their entrance exam practical. More importantly, the first one to challenge him as an equal.

this is truly heartwarming, and iida throwing Midoriya’s own words back at him is the perfect explanation for why his friends are going so far to help him

right, that’s it for this week’s chapter rave, except there’s also a spinoff chapter and omg they look so cute-

the events take place before the new third movie, which I can’t believe is coming out because I still haven’t seen the second movie 〒▽〒

👀

jk it’s just the

World Heroes Association huh? so this is the excuse- I mean reason for the third movie (not that I’m complaining, I love me some movies)

man I should really read the premise of the new movie, all  I know is that Deku is wanted for murder for some reason.

ahahahaha good times good times, and Midoriya does get his cape in the end XD (sorta)

Anyway does anyone consider the movies canon? I don’t really, especially since I’ve heard stuff like Bakugou getting one for all in the second movie??

Well in the end I find that anime movies tend to be more fanservice than anything, which isn’t really bad (besides you get fun characters and situations). Like I really like Melissa! But I actually read about her in the manga before I even knew there was a movie, so I can’t tell if she existed before the movie or if she was introduced in manga because of the movie? 

idk whatever, the spinoff extra was a fun little thing that helped me ease up considering the current state of the manga, and I can’t wait for next week~

[adowbaldwin]

Baldwins Secret

Diana was hiding, fearful of discovery. Unfortunately Matthew knew her better "Mon Coeur" he sounded as he did when gently scolding the children

She pouted, looked down at the mess she had made and sulked. This pregnancy she had done alot of sulking. And eating.

Thats where she was, hiding in the barn eating. Ben and Jerry's chunky monkey icecream, chili heatwave dorritos and pickle sandwich. Its all she ever wanted, but Matthew kept trying to make her eat vegetables.

Bastard.

"But its all i want to eat" she wailed "my one joy in this heatwave"

Matthew scoffed, lifting her from the floor with ease as though she had not gained any weight "Heatwave. You know nothing of heat in this day and age"

She mocked him, squeaking his sentance back mumbling the words "okay mr 1500 years old i know nothing you are God i bow to thee"

He squared his eyed at her "You spend far too much time with Marcus"

She knew she was being unreasonable. It was not Matthews fault she felt like her skin was going to melt off and doing magic to ease her discomfort actually gave her morning sickness.

He guided her gently by her elbow but she was having none of it. She ripped her arm away intent on walking back to Sept Tours independently.

Matthew knew better then to try and stop Diana doing something. It generally never ended well when he did.

Each wobbly, ankle throbbing step turned into a bigger one. The grass had been challenging enough, hot and dry burning her bare feet but then came the steps.

All four, stoney hard steps. She picked up her foot, wriggled her toes bracing for the impact of the steps.

Exepct it never came.

"DIANA" Marcus was frantic, Philippe was snotting and crying his heart out and Rebecca was trying to look for her mother with Jack.

"Shes gone" Matthew whispered "i cant feel her. Shes not here"

"Thats ridiculous!" Sarah rolled her eyes. This was not the first time walking pregnancy blip she had, though she always turned up after ten mimutes or so.

"It has been thirty minutes. Shes not here" Matthew could feel all his emotions rising, everything bubbling that he couldnt compress. What did not help was the flicking of the financial times and Baldwins blasè disposition. "If you do not intend to help, leave" he ground his jaw tightly.

Baldwin briefly turned his gaze up to Matthew, considered and debated then returned to the collumn he was reading "She is not here what is the point in looking for her?"

He had sworn not to fight in front of the children but by God he was asking for it "Leave" he barely bit out before marching out of the Chateau

"62bc" he called out hoping it would get Matthews attention

He stopped for a moment, turning his head over his shoulders "what?"

"She is in Rome. 62bc. I did wonder when it would happen"

When she had bowled into their lives, her face and scent was unmistakeable. The odd time walker he had met in his early twenties, the one that owed him one hundred sestertius and a beer.

[thespoonisvictory]

Hamilton Hot Take: A Hamilton that kept in the deleted songs and workshop versions tell a superior story (So Broadway vs Off-Broadway version). And, no, I’m not just talking about Congratulations (although that one should’ve also been kept).

A significant part of Hamilton’s narrative focuses on the relationship between Burr and Hamilton. From the beginning, their ideologies and the way they get ahead are completely different. Burr keeps his true opinions and thoughts close to his chest. He never reveals anymore than what will make him most agreeable to others. His persona is one of inoffensively likable. Hamilton is quite the opposite. He is never indecisive, always shooting off his own opinions. He takes risks in order to grab at better opportunities, but often this leads him to gathering more enemies. And despite these differences, Hamilton and Burr remain good friends who have a lot of mutual respect (and envy) of one another.

Until the second act that is. And the second act is also unfortunately where things start getting cut and rewritten.

As the dsmp fandom would put it, Broadway A. Hamilton is made “smooth” compared to his original counterpart. He’s much calmer and more reasonable. He’s pride and short temper have been stripped away. And Burr, in comparison, is stripped of much of his more sympathetic traits. Aside from Dear Theodosisa (Reprise) and really any mention of his family being entirely cut, he’s made to be far more malicious and villainous in other songs, compared to their original lyrics.

Take for example, Schuyler Defeated. Both versions start on Eliza and Philip finding out about Eliza’s father being challenged for his seat in the senate. In the Broadway version, Eliza is very unconcerned with this development and she and Philip leave the song as quickly as they entered, happy to go and meet the new senator. The original, in contrast, starts out with a panicked Eliza, desperate to find Alexander because she knows exactly how he’ll take this. Hamilton’s characterization also vastly changes depending on the version. Broadway Hamilton is very calm, innocently asking about Burr’s change in party affiliation. Meanwhile, og Hamilton comes out swinging, already furious, he demands to know when Burr changed parties. Hamilton is far more personally offended in this version, framing Burr running against Schuyler as an attempt to “make a fool of [him],” compared to to the Broadway version where he seems more offended on behalf of his father-in-law. The only thing that stops Hamilton from doing anything stupid for what is essentially just running for senate AND not the personal attack Hamilton views it as, is Eliza and, later in the deleted song “Let It Go,” Washington talking him down from it.

Another example is the Broadway vs original versions of “Your Obedient Servant.” The Broadway version is undoubtedly framed in a deeply negative light. He is furious, unable to understand Hamilton’s support of Jefferson, viewing it as an attempt to keep him from winning, as something done to spite Burr specifically. Meanwhile, the original Burr is more calm in level headed in explaining his feelings. In both versions, Burd makes accusations towards Hamilton. In the original, he backs up his claims with a source in the form of a private letter sent in confidant, while Broadway Burr makes accusations of Hamilton calling him “amoral [and] a dangerous disgrace,” which is never said by Hamilton anywhere and has no basis. This combined with Burr already suggestion they can name a time and place I’d they have a disagreement, makes Burr come across as far more petty and eager to start a fight. Faced with accusation with no basis, Broadway Hamilton responds fairly reasonably, saying he would need to sight a specific source for him to be able to disavow those words, and provides his own list of disagreements with. Original Hamilton, however, is very flippant of the accusations, being incredibly petulant in denying Burr’s accusations, mocking the wording of them. And yes, while both Burr’s escalate the conversations to threats, the Hamilton’s responses show just how different these versions. Broadway Hamilton stands by what he says and defending himself by saying that everything he said is true and that Burr stands for nothing. Which is completely true, so Burr then challenging Hamilton to a duel makes Burr seem unreasonable and angry that Hamilton pointed out how his own ideology screwed him over. While original Hamilton makes the whole disagreement incredibly personal, for no reason, bringing up Burr’s dead wife to mock him. It’s only then that Burr challenges Hamilton to a duel, to which Hamilton agrees to almost immediately, showing how rash the original Hamilton is, compared to the Broadway version who thinks the challenge over for a few seconds before agreeing.

And finally, “Ten Things, One Things,” really shows how far their friendship and understanding of each other has fallen off. Burr’s perspective shows how much he wants Hamilton to apologize and back down from the duel, only realizing at the 8th count that this is a serious duel, and Hamilton won’t be backing down. Meanwhile Hamilton goes into the duel considering the possibility they might die, but as the counting continues he becomes more and more convinced he and Burr will survive. He is specifically is assured of this by realizing it’s not in Burr’s political interests to kill him. While Hamilton scrutizes the area, Burr’s own fear and paranoia takes hold, convinced Hamilton will shoot, Burr resolves to kill Hamilton first, so his daughter will not orphaned. All the while, is so assured of his safety that he starts to think about going to back to his house to see Eliza awaken. Neither one of them are able to fathom the possibility of the other outside of the image they’ve created of each other. Hamilton cannot see a Burr that wouldn’t wait, and Burr cannot see a Hamilton who would throw away his shot.

Far more emphasize is placed on Hamilton’s violent anger in the original, while in the Broadway version this is lost and Burr is pained more as the unreasonable instigator in their deteriorating friendship, when the original makes it so much more complicated than that. Broadway is so much more Black and White in the story it tells, where the villain Burr shoots our hero Hamilton, rather than the far more interesting story of a friendship between two men based on mutual respect, admiration, and envy and how that friendship ultimately changed both until they could no longer understand each other and how that inability to see how the other had changed, led to their ultimate falling out in the form of final duel.

I’m not saying the workshop versions of songs are better musically (I know jack shit about music) but they make Hamilton’s characterization and relationship with Burr so much richer and that’s why the story they tell is so much better to me.

TLDR; Hamilton is less of bitch in the Broadway version and it makes me >:(

I hope this makes sense, I started to ramble

^^^

god damn this is so good idk what to do with this other than nod and tell you to run my blog for me

also- this reminds me of what happened to off broadway orpheus vs live broadway orpheos, bc ob!orpheus is a self confident bitch who was charismatic and funny and I like him so much, and b!orpheus is a awkward little rat creature who doesn't make as much sense both as a character and in the narrative. he got smoothed

[that-wizard-oki]

SO hear me out on a theory. Say the Wizard made realized they are very similar to Morganthe. We know they probably weren’t in the greatest mental place after Azteca. Due to this guilt, the Wizard becomes irrationally terrified that they will end up just like Morganthe. They are willing to do anything to prove they are not the same, and so they become reckless and cruel, eventually killing her. I think this would explain why the Wizard easily releases Spider and allows Morganthe to die. Thoughts?

Yeeeeep. That's spot on to what I've been saying- I think the wizard, especially after Azteca's events, are projecting their own insecurity about being a failure on Morganthe because she, in the wizard's eyes, represents failure to a t. To become anything akin to Morganthe is their worst fear.

Not only that, but Morganthe has proved to be someone who can and HAS rivaled the Wizard in terms of power and skill. That's why Azteca was so pivotal for the Wizard- before then, while they may have resented Morganthe for what she was doing, there wasn't necessarily anything super personal between the two, outside of Morganthe's banter about Merle and similar. But when Morganthe destroyed Azteca- that was the first time our Wizard truly faced failure. Morganthe challenged our title as savior, which in turn would also make the Wizard likely question whether they SHOULD be savior- but they have to be. All their relationships with everyone they've ever met rely on the fact that they are Savior. We aren't anything if not the Savior.

And like you've said anon, that would make the Wizards pursuit of Morganthe in Khrysalis more ruthlessly motivated. Unfortunately, (but also, this is such good character shit) that ruthlessness might have caused the Wizard more turmoil than intended. Mainly being, we do get to see first hand Morganthe's memories, and specifically how she ended up with the Magi. before these dreams, Morganthe herself seemed unreasonably ruthless. However, not only do we learn that the people wo were supposed to care for her ended up hurting and pushing her away, but we also learn that she wasn't super willing to be with the Arachna Magi as well.

But, we persists. We free Old Cob, and he himself actually tests to see how far we are willing to go to rid of Morganthe by showing us two different ways to separate shadow from a physical form, and ALSO cleverly reveals that he knows how Morganthe became she shadow queen- that she was, in fact, unwilling to share anything the Arachna had her learn about the Shadow Web and it's nature, and when she refused to help them, they infused her in the same way we know the Bumblers and Mantises are infused with the conversion tables.

Point blank, Morganthe is being used. She's as much as a victim as the Wizard is- but the thing is, Old Cob's strategy in actually revealing this to us in a sly manner is his way of trying to figure out how blinded we are- he wants to know, "even if you know the truth about Morganthe, will you still continue with your rage?"

And when he says that, and we don't say one way or the other... he knows. He knows he has us in the palm of his spindled hand.

What's really a kicker is that, right before we even fight her, he says, "So it shall be. The Children of Light and Shadow, The Children of Prophecy, shall duel and decide the fate of the Spiral."

Like, there it is. The entire reason that Morganthe was utilized as Shadow Queen was to lure our wizard into a situation where they were so desperate to make sure they win, that they release old cob from prison with the promise that he also wants her out of the picture.

Not only does this, imo, make Morganthe one of the most tragic characters in the game (with this in mine, but also because she didn't even SEEK OUT shadow magic, alllll she wanted was to learn how to control astral magic and go back home, and like the wizard, in her state of vulnerability, was coerced into doing something that she didn't really want), but it also is one of the most profoundly darkest moment for the Wizard as a character- while they achieved their goal in defeating Morganthe... they have ultimately become just like her. The wizard was so blinded by their own ego that they let their guard down and allowed the god of chaos to utilized their own power against Morganthe, juuuuuusttt like he had done with Morganthe in Azteca. It's just a roundtable domino effect, and it's so sad, but gooodddd is it so so interesting and i will die mad that we have thus far gotten no closure between Morganthe/The Wizard in this respect. Imo, Woulda been great to see Morganthe's return in Arc 3 (though i still feel like they can do this in arc 4 tbh) to adress their shared trauma between old cob along side Bat and Mellori's own journey with their family/father.

Anywho. Yea, big agreed with that there anon :'D

[sserpente]

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures--but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. The deal is a simple one: Become a recruit and help the Time Variance Authority fight time crimes to earn your freedom again eventually or die. Loki accepts the challenge. It would not be long until he could use their own weapons against them, after all. If only that, however, were his only concern. Least of all did he expect that with his reluctant arrival at TVA, a woman would step into his life and wreak havoc in his heart. He does not know what it is about her that he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey--but he is determined to find out.

A/N: Gaaaah, I haven’t nearly pre-written as many chapters as I would like to have pre-written before starting to post but I just can’t wait any longer! I finally want to share this story with you guys, I am so hyped about it! So, without further ado--enjoy the first chapter of “Pastel Blue”! I hope you like it! ♥

Chapter 1

Tick Tock. That clock on the wall was driving her crazy, it had been ever since she had been assigned to this dull office. She spent most of her time in the lab, working in midst of dangerous and highly sensitive equipment and delicate devices.

Tick Tock. She was going to smash it—with a big hammer, perhaps, or even better, a jackhammer. It was ugly too. Made of wood and obviously antique, late 18th century probably. What had Mobius been thinking?

Oh yeah, him. Mobius M. Mobius, her I-am-not-your-father-but-I-will-treat-you-like-my-daughter supervisor and babysitter, thank you very much. Granted, he was old enough to be her father, taking into consideration that in her mid-twenties, there wasn’t much need for a parental figure in her life anymore.

Tick Tock. She sighed. The pile of paperwork she had been handed this morning had seemingly not shrunk by even an inch. She could swear she had not been stalling today. Breakfast, work, lunch break, work… Tick Tock. She rolled her eyes. No. This was unreasonable. Grunting a few not so decent swear words, she gathered the spreadsheets and dozens of handwritten notes, sending the calming ruffling of paper through the air and exited the room without so much as thinking about what Mobius would think about her wandering places around the TVA during work hours again.

Besides, the kitchen and common room right around the corner of her desired destination was equipped with the best coffee machine modern technology had to offer. Hot chocolate with mint and a hint of vanilla? Oh yes, please!

At this time of the day, the lab in question was deserted. Pens, pliers and other small tools lay scattered all over the metal tables as if someone had just finished their work for the day. Some of the devices in here could cause major damage if activated accidentally or even at the wrong time. Now there was the thrill, the proximity to endless possibilities.

After turning a few laps around the tables to see if anything had changed or improved at all since the last time she was here (which would be yesterday), she eventually made herself comfortable at the huge desk fully equipped with a cup holder, sockets and a fancy table lamp. The chair was the best part, enabling her to swirl around whenever she felt like she needed a refreshing spin.

She had just pulled out her burrow from her hair, having twirled it around one of the lighter strands. Her guess was the sun had bestowed its warm kisses upon her chocolate brown hair in the summer. Leaning over her papers, she got back to work.

But it was only five minutes until she heard the heavy metal door with the see-through glass panel being pushed open, followed by someone clearing their throat.

“Jess, do you have a moment?” Mobius asked. Jess tilted her head, the slightest frown accompanied by a gentle smirk decorating her face. What, no chastising for changing work locations today? She swirled around on her chair, expecting to see the man in question in his grey suit and the signature scar across his nose stare her down with arms akimbo. Instead, he was holding on to the door tensely, right next to him, seemingly out of place in the threshold, a man with raven hair and the most stunning pair of blue eyes she had ever had the pleasure to lock her gaze with. Her eyes were blue as well—Loki’s, however, seemed to shimmer green in the artificial light of the lab. She didn’t get much daylight, all the way down here.

“M?” Jess smiled. She rose, ignoring the slight trembling of her knees as she approached the two, keeping a safe distance. Her heart skipped a beat with every single step, her chest resembling a magnet pulling her towards Loki like a powerless needle.

“I’ve told you, repeatedly, to stay in your own office.” Ah, there it was.

“I have asked you, repeatedly, to re-locate my office here.” She retorted with a smug expression, eyes darting over to Loki. Mobius shook his head. “An introduction is probably redundant. Jess, this is Loki.”

He was wearing the orange prison clothes TVA had manufactured a few years back. She had to admit, orange suited him rather well, bringing out his cheekbones and the dark hair framing his flawless face. His lips were thin, his jawline to die for. She would be lying if she denied his attractiveness. Loki was a god, after all. Most prominent to his appearance, however, were the shackles around his naked wrists and the metal collar hiding most of his long neck—a chunky but firm reminder his powers were all but a myth as long as the light was blinking bright red like a traffic light screaming stop at him like a sleep-deprived police officer.

Loki lifted his chin, allowing pride and confidence to flood his aura. Out of all the people he had encountered in this strange place so far, alterations of his very own self on an old-fashioned projector included, she was by far the oddest. Jess, so he learned, wore a colourful choker around her neck as well as two bracelets of the same kind. They reminded him of sugar pearls. If he had asked her about them, she could have revealed to him that they were indeed candy necklaces—and that she wore them because Mobius had stressed there were no edible snacks allowed at work. The elegant pieces of jewellery hanging down her earlobes, however, appeared to be non-edible. Two delicate silver charms, holding what Loki identified to be moonstones. They suited her, complementing the long brown hair and the outstanding colour of her eyes. Blue—just like his.

“The God of Mischief.” She completed, the fraction of a second after he had studied her conspicuous appearance. She added a court but polite nod. “I was kind of hoping to meet you one day.” And so she was. The rumours had spread across the entire facility like wildfire, reaching even the Minutemen based in different timelines. Loki, the Norse God of Mischief, had stolen an Infinity Stone and escaped his respective timeline—a timeline reaching all the way back to 2012—creating a new branch of reality entirely. Unsupervised, he could have caused serious damage to the very fabric of time and the multiverse. He had to be stopped, had to be captured, had to be persuaded.

Mobius had expressed his interest in getting the infamous Trickster to work for him frequently. Loki was skilled, intelligent, witty, a talented fighter and most of all, one of the most capable users of magic the multiverse had to offer. His stories of victory and defeat were known to most of the TVA and yet, they resonated with her to an extent her colleagues could never fathom. Above everything Loki had had to experience—above all Loki will have had to experience—there was a thick layer of loneliness clouding his aura like a blanket of ice-cold snow. It was a suitable comparison, given his heritage.

“I didn’t just hear that.” Mobius intervened. He sized her up like an unpredictable teenager. “The God of Mischief has retired. Loki here has just agreed on working for us.”

“With you,” Loki interrupted. “Not for you. Reluctantly.” That would leave her wondering what exactly it was Mobius had offered him in return.

Jess chuckled. “Now that is a matter of opinion, trust me. I would know.” Raising an eyebrow, she gave Mobius a challenging glare.

“I need you to cover a shift.” He responded matter-of-factly. Jess’ eyebrow rose even higher. “Reese just jumped back from 1792.”

“And?”

“He almost made his personal acquaintance with the guillotine. They’re patching him up in the hospital wing right now.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Jess took a step back, realising just what kind of favour, no, requirement Mobius would ask for. Reese had been in the TVA for more than three decades—he had not aged a day since his accession as a matter of fact—and his experience and excessive excitement over the Avengers had made him the perfect candidate to keep an eye on Loki while he was still not to be trusted—if he was ever going to be trusted, that was. He was the God of Mischief, after all.

“I’m on probation, remember? What makes you think I should cover for him of all people?” Loki rolled his eyes and for a moment, you almost felt sorry for excluding him from a conversation that was clearly about him.

“Call it an experiment. Prove to me that we can rely on you and I’ll end your probation.” Jess resisted the urge to shake his hand off her shoulder when he leaned forward to touch her in a fatherly manner.

“Sir, do you have a moment?” A Minuteman had appeared behind them. Jess had never quite figured out how they moved so quietly. Their shoe soles must have been made of feathers. In turn, the stilettos she usually wore to smuggle a few more inches to her height were loud and made satisfying noises ricocheting through the hallways when she walked, emitting confidence and even smugness. She needed that boost every once in a while.

Mobius nodded. As he released Jess’ shoulder and pushed past Loki—who did, much to her amusement, not move an inch for the senior manager—he pointed a finger at him. “Behave.”

The lab door fell shut behind him, drowning all noises from the outside like a soundproof recording room. Jess gaped at Loki for a second, her body once again threatening to overwhelm her with the magnetic pull she felt towards the Trickster, fascination setting her veins ablaze.

“You do not look human.” Loki suddenly said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Jess pouted.

“Excuse me? I am hoping you meant that as a compliment, I am as human as I’ll ever be.” Loki frowned, then responded with a hum.

“I take it you hop timelines for him too then, fixing the damage others have done.”

“Me? No.” Jess shook her head. “I am not a Minuteman. I wish I was, trust me, but I have got nothing to do with that, unfortunately. I work in the linguistics department, spending all day translating protocols and time recordings from all sorts of languages. Now I know what you’re thinking. With its technology, shouldn’t TVA be able to translate everything using a smart computer program?” She shrugged. “Well, technically you’re right. But there’s a bunch of languages out there that simply don’t exist either here on Earth or any other known realm. We’re only human—and a computer program is only as smart as its creator. It can’t translate a language that does not consist of words, for example, that would go against the very human comprehension of its programmer.”

“Then how do you speak them?” Loki probed.

“That’s my superpower. I don’t know why I can understand them, I just… do. And what did it get me?” She raised her hands in a dramatic motion. “Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. The only way for me to get in on the real action is this place here. Take a look at this.” Loki watched her move towards what resembled a toaster, shaped like a metal suitcase that had been left open. Smiling, she reached for a shining red apple on the table and placed it on the black surface before activating the switch. She had seen the scientists do this dozens of times before. In fact, she was sure she could handle most of the devices in here in her sleep. As the small machine hummed to life, it sent a deafening vibration through the room and then, just like someone had hit fast-forward with a remote, the apple shrivelled and rotted.

“Pretty cool, huh? It works the other way around too once it recharged. They haven’t figured out how to make it work for living beings, including humans, just yet, though. This is just a prototype anyway, the real thing is supposed to help re-animate the dead for a short amount of time to solve time crimes and shit. I swear I’d get a major in science if I lived another life. My father was one. Before he died, that is.” Jess wasn’t quite sure what made her open up to the God of Mischief and tell her about her personal family drama. She usually babbled when nervousness got the better of her but this was a new level of openness entirely. They all knew her story, after all, but apart from Mobius, they all pretended they didn’t. “You see? TVA is not all bad, even if it may seem so at first. M can be an arsehole sometimes, I know. He calls our main timeline in which everything began,” Jess continued with a dramatic voice, “the Null-Time Zone. I never figured out why and he won’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t listen, Jess.” Mobius answered, holding the door open with the Minuteman who had asked for his advice impatiently but mutely waiting for his turn again behind him.

“So?” She probed, pointing at the God of Mischief with her chin, her arms crossed. “If I am to play babysitter for a while, where am I staying? Where is Loki staying?”

“Your place.” Jess blinked, incredulousness spreading on her face like a clean swipe of butter on warm toasted bread.

“My place?”

“Your residential unit is supervised and equipped with modern alarm systems, just in case you decide to make trouble again, remember? We’ll position security outside the door in addition to that, killing two birds with one stone. Besides, it’s only temporary. Reese should be up and on his feet again in no time. The blade only grazed him before he made the jump back.”

“That does not sound reassuring!” Jess stood up straight to prove her point and yet, even compared to Mobius, she was nowhere near tall enough to make an impact with her body language at this time.

“You can take the rest of the day off as compensation. Show Loki to your unit. Make yourselves acquainted. I’ll send security to collect him in five minutes—to the second!”

 ~*~

She seems familiar almost… like part of me has known her forever. It was a thought which jumped into Loki’s mind and implanted itself in his head like a parasite. A mere mortal, how could there possibly be a connection between them? But it wasn’t just magnetic fascination and intrigue. Loki felt a need to keep her in his presence much like she was about to be his cherished bride. Irritation crept up the back of his neck as he followed her through the branched corridors and back to the modern lift he had had to use upon his arrival.

He would only love to know just what it was that had gotten her on probation. Abuse of machinery for her own selfish purposes, perhaps? A prank which had gone too far and done damage to the organisation? Murder? No. Despite her toughness, he could not imagine the delicate mortal standing next to him in the elevator being capable of killing anyone.

When the elevator doors slid open again, the young woman gave him an almost sheepish smile. She hardly appeared worried by having to escort him all on her own, across empty hallways which were only too inviting to overpower her and escape. Something held him back. She did, so he realised with another wave of irritation electrifying his body.

“…the most dangerous missions they usually leave to Justice Peace and Death’s Head. Ever heard of them? They are like celebrities around here.” He heard her say just then. But Loki couldn’t possibly take less interest in this so-called Time Variance Authority. All he needed to know was that it was yet another, partially human-led secret organisation imagining with the naivety of a child that they held power over him. SHIELD had made this mistake in the past and they had paid the bitter price. TVA would be no different.

“The units here are labelled with our initials and the department number. This one.” Jess pointed at the first door coming into sight to their right and quite apparently, Mobius had not made any empty promises concerning Jess’ safety and surveillance. As they turned around the corner, they were greeted by a grimly looking security officer clutching one of those small devices Loki identified as a Taser, one which of the like Darcy Lewis had once used on his brother. He kept a straight face even as Jess unlocked the residential unit using her fingerprint and entered but gave him a provocative smirk before following her.

His own chambers back on Asgard—another life entirely, so it seemed now—were a reflection of who he was with their green accents, the countless books, the tidiness and the ancient parchment rolls on his dark mahogany desk from Vanaheim. If anything, analysing her personal living space to the very last grain of dust would satisfy his need to learn just why he felt so drawn her, perhaps.

The first item of furniture he took in was the long bookshelf towering all the way up to the ceiling, every inch filled with clearly read books about as thick as his wrist. He made a note to study the titles later. A coffee table full of empty peanut shells and a new package of peanuts still sealed neatly in their plastic bag, a caramel sofa on which he found more sealed peanut bags as well as a golden cushion with cheesy pom-poms. A drawer, a TV with large speakers and another electronic gadget resembling a fridge and two separate doorways which led to a bathing area, so he presumed, and her bedroom. Even with the overall lack of more furniture in the room, Jess had somehow managed to add her very own personal touch to the sterile residential unit.

“The bathroom is to the right, you’ll find refreshments and snacks in the fridge next to the TV. My bedroom is out of bounds. I hope you enjoyed the tour.” She chuckled, grabbing a blue leather jacket from the hook on the entrance door behind them. “Big meals are eaten in the cafeteria at certain times of the day though. Mobius wants to strengthen the team spirit but the cooks never say no to a late breakfast or a midnight snack if you ask them nicely.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t you feel like a prisoner in this place?” A lackey for someone else to take the credit for your hard work, he added silently. He knew two of that kind—one being his brother, the other his alleged father. Loki suppressed a begrudged growl. Just in that moment and before she had a chance to reply to his provocative remark, there was a vigorous knock on the door.

“That’ll be your cue.” Jess announced. Loki had to force himself not to turn his head and catch one last glimpse of her as the grimly looking security man escorted him back to Mobius and, other than Jess, kept pushing him forward like cattle and yet, he was convinced he could feel her curious gaze resting on his back long after he had turned back around the corner, stepped into the elevator and even when he was reluctantly reunited with Mobius near the lab where they had first picked her up.

He was speaking to the same Minuteman who had interrupted them earlier—quietly, vividly and so engrossed in the seemingly heated conversation that he noticed Loki and his new bodyguard approaching only after his exceptional hearing had picked up shreds of information he made another mental note of using against them, sooner rather than later.

“You do realise that they’ll come after us with a vengeance, right? That could be the end of TVA once and for all, you know very well what he is capable of.”

“Let that be my concern. This is just a temporary solution—one which I am very curious about.”

“But it already—“

“I realise it already happened and that’s exactly why I’m doing this. All we need to do is stop it from happening again by observing the situation intently, stitch up the loop and we’ll be safe. This isn’t my first rodeo, Dave, you of all people should know this.”

“And what about the Tesseract? Wouldn’t it be smarter if we—“

The security officer cleared his throat, announcing their arrival.

“The Tesseract,” Loki interrupted with a glare, strutting towards them like the king he was born to become and despite his shackles, “belongs to me. It called out to me, it is mine.”

“You’ll find a lot of people in this facility who will disagree with you on that. Trust me. We’ll make sure you won’t get your hands on that cube again.” Dave snorted. “I hope you like your new lodging. Now come on, mischief maker. You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

~*~

A/N: And Scene! So what do you think, what do you think, what do you think? 🤯 I’m so excited to dive into this story! I literally recorded myself on my phone in the middle of the night a while back when all the ideas I had finally came together so I hope I’ll be taking you on an exciting journey with me!

Chapter 2

[shera-dnd]

I told you I was gonna write a fic based on it and here it is! Inspired by this fantastic piece from @kurokaneart

A pretty short story in which Weiss did not fall at the end of Volume 8, and after years of wandering Vacuo alone, she finally gets a shot at avenging her team

That design deserved a fight scene to match it and I hope I delivered on it

It had been two years.

Two years since Atlas fell from the sky.

Two years since the relics had been lost.

Two years since so many people were lost to the void.

Weiss had been alone for two gods damned years.

It was still fresh on her mind, the day her friends fell to their doom. How one by one they were swallowed by the abyss, and she had been powerless to save them. How she herself almost met the same fate, had she not been saved by her sister at the last possible moment. A sister who now carried the mantle of the Winter Maiden, passed down from yet another dead friend.

So it was no surprise to anyone that Weiss had been in a state of shock for the following few days. In fact she wasn’t even sure how long that lasted as she hadn’t been fully aware of the passage of time as her heart struggled with all it had lost.

What surprised them was when she left.

The reasonable thing to do after all that happened would have been to stick with her surviving friends, work together and do everything they could to make sure they wouldn’t lose anyone else. But Weiss wasn’t in a reasonable mood. She was grieving the loss of her family - her real family - and she couldn’t bear the notion of just replacing them, of being a part of anything besides Team RWBY.

So she wandered the deserts that surrounded Vacuo, fighting bandits, slaying grimm, all while doing all she could to keep the memory of her team alive. All while carving herself into a walking memorial to those she lost.

In time she was forced to adapt to the desert. Crying was a waste of precious water, as was cleaning her unreasonably long hair, so in time her tears dried up and her hair was cut short. Soon heels gave way to sensible combat boots, and her dress was replaced by proper armor. Months of constant physical exercise and her new fighting style had also led to changes even to her body shape, leaving her more muscular than she ever thought she could be.

Part of her couldn’t help but worry that this meant that Weiss had died with her teammates, that whoever walked Vacuo now was some other woman wearing her face. So still she latched onto scraps of her older self. The lovely blue of her favorite dress now lived on in her cape, bound to her by a metal clasp bearing her family’s symbol. Her earrings too remained, even if they brought her the wrong kind of attention from time to time.

And so the months passed and Weiss continued her travels, hunting down Salem’s followers wherever she found them. Even getting to take her anger out on a certain scorpion bastard, though she knew he was just one more piece in some impossibly large scheme to end the world.

Now two years had passed since the Fall of Atlas and once more Weiss found herself at the entrance to a relic vault as yet another huntsmen academy came under attack. This time though, she stood alone, waiting for the one person she had spent two years looking forward to seeing again.

“Well well well, here I thought I’d never have to see your face again,” Cinder’s disgustingly smug tone echoed through the underground chamber as her silhouette appeared by its entrance, “what was it that those friends of yours called you again, Ice Queen?”

Cinder had changed a lot in these past couple of years. Once again she donned a new outfit for her new environment, this one echoing some of her choices from her old student disguise back at Beacon. Though the change that actually caught Weiss’s eye was her grimm arm. She no longer bothered hiding it as the cancerous growth had now spread to cover not only her entire arm but parts of her chest and neck. Weiss wouldn’t be surprised if she found that her heart too had become grimm.

Her attitude, unfortunately, stayed the same.

“Love the new look, by the way,” she mocked, “I could almost believe you’re not just a Schnee brat.”

Weiss’s fists clenched, but she did not bother with a response. She knew how Cinder worked, she played dirty and messed with people’s heads, so the less fuel Weiss gave her the better. Instead she just cracked her neck, stretched her sword arm and called on her semblance.

A summoning glyph appeared behind her, but this time none of her defeated foes stepped out to defend her, instead frost covered her arms, slowly shaping itself into spectral white armor. She extended a hand forward and in it began to form a massive sword, pointing towards her enemy in challenge.

She was about to take down a maiden.

“Cute trick,” Cinder commented, her steps echoing as she casually walked down the chamber, “I wonder where you got it from.”

To make her point she extended her hands and a pair of swords formed in them with a flash of heat. The implication that Weiss had anything to thank Cinder for, was unfortunately enough to prompt her to speak.

“Are you always so full of--”

With a burst of flames Cinder had launched for Weiss’s throat, the glass blade nearly connecting with the huntress’s neck in that moment of distraction, before Weiss could stumble backwards and out of the way. Cinder continued to push though, strike after strike backing Weiss against the vault’s doors, never allowing her to recover her balance.

Weiss grunted as a kick to the stomach sent her reeling back against those doors. Cinder dashed for her again, but this time she was prepared. Pushing off the door with one arm she slammed an armored hand on Cinder’s chest - a small propulsion glyph appearing in her palm - and launched the maiden backwards with incredible force.

Another glyph then took shape under Weiss, sending her flying up in an arc, plunging at Cinder, ready to cut her down. The maiden simply rolled aside and jumped up before the attack could connect. Once more their blades clashed, but this time it was Weiss’s turn to take the offensive.

Back in her Beacon days, Weiss would dance across the battlefield with the precision and grace of a ballerina. Though much of said grace had been lost over the years, she still saw her fighting style as a dance of sorts, no longer a balle, but a waltz between her and her greatsword, and now Cinder found herself caught in the path of these deadly dance partners.

Weiss pushed her back with each step, advancing with every slice and spin of her sword until they found themselves once more at the center of the room. She dipped her dance partner, striking its pommel to Cinder’s human wrist and making her sword drop. She spun on her heels aiming to slice off that grimm arm, but once again their blades clashed. Cinder’s human hand flew for the grip of her remaining sword, pushing Weiss’s summoned blade with all her might.

Usually that wouldn’t work. Between her stronger physique and the Arma Gigas’s armor she could easily power through most attempts at simply blocking her attacks like this, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy. The grimm maiden was inhumanly strong after all and kept Weiss’s sword at bay with ease.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” Cinder commented, a chuckle escaping her throat as she watched Weiss struggle to match her strength, “but don’t fool yourself. We both know you’re nothing on your own.”

With that, Weiss snapped.

A propulsion glyph formed behind her, shoving her forward and adding its force to the clash. It wasn’t enough to push Cinder back, but it was enough to do something even better.

A loud crack echoed throughout the chamber as Cinder’s glass swords shattered under the intense pressure. She forged new ones from thin air, but Weiss was quick to crush those too. There were no more attempts at grace, no more dancing, no more technique or skill, just deadly force as the room was filled with the sounds of crushing glass and Weiss’s shouts, her sword slamming down again and again like a blunt instrument.

This, of course, was exactly what Cinder wanted. Her grimm arm caught Weiss’s sword with ease and a jet of flame from her mouth made the huntress stumble and fall. Casually she crushed the sword in her hand and sauntered her way to her disarmed opponent.

Weiss rose to her knees and another summoning glyph appeared before her, producing a much needed replacement sword. But before she could reach for it a fireball incinerated the glyph and the sword with it.

“This was cute,” Cinder mocked, not even bothering with any swords anymore, simply raising her hand and preparing to fireball Weiss out of existence, “but I think it’s time we put an end to it.”

It was that look. That tone in her voice like she had already won, like her defeat was never even a possibility. It was that smug attitude that gave Weiss every motivation she needed to keep fighting to the bitter end, just to show her that the last remnant of team RWBY wasn’t about to lie down and accept death.

Thankfully, team RWBY still had her back.

She launched forward and slammed an armored fist against that stupid smirk of hers. The look of absolute shock on that bitch’s face was more than enough of a reward on its own, but Weiss still had more for her.

Taking a boxing stance Weiss planted punch after punch on Cinder’s body, every jab and every dodge aided by her propulsion glyphs. Her fast movement kept Cinder on her toes as she was slammed over and over again.

With a cry of rage Cinder unleashed her maiden powers, sending Weiss flying backwards with a powerful gust of wind, but the huntress was not so easily intimidated. Another glyph caught her and launched back at her foe. Cinder smirked and raised her grimm arm. She was more than happy to capitalize on Weiss’s foolhardiness by shooting her out of the air with another ball of flames.

Unfortunately for the mad maiden, Weiss was no fool.

Another glyph appeared under her and sent her flying upwards, completely avoiding Cinder’s attack and sending spinning over her foe with the grace of a gymnast. Weiss had barely landed behind her before bashing Cinder once more, putting all her force into a single punch that sent her flying.

She knew she couldn’t waste time, she couldn’t let the maiden recover. So she called upon a massive summoning glyph and while that one prepared to unleash its fury, a smaller one appeared on Weiss’s palm. From the small glyph shot the hooked stinger of a Queen Lancer, it pierced Cinder’s grimm arm causing her to scream in pain. Then with all her strength Weiss pulled her down to the ground.

No, not the ground. She pulled her down into the waiting maw of a Giant Nevermore. The summon swallowed her whole and flew up, readying itself to dive down, slamming them both to the ground with deadly force.

Still it was not enough.

The Nevermore burst into flames as fire spewed from Cinder’s hands, feet, and mouth. The look of smug superiority on the maiden’s face now replaced with one of pure primal fury, blade after blade after blade were forged around her with a flash of her terrifying power. That...wasn’t good.

Weiss felt her hands shake and her eyes closed.

All of that, and all she managed to do was make her angry.

Two years training and preparing for this confrontation, and she still couldn’t do anything.

She couldn’t stop Cinder. She couldn’t avenge her friends, and now the last member of her team would die to her hand like all the rest.

No.

No! No!

Her team was gone, but they were still protecting her, still doing everything they could to let her keep fighting. She wasn’t gonna let her efforts and their sacrifice be in vain. She would keep fighting, and she would take Cinder down once and for all.

When she opened her eyes a glyph had taken form under her, but this one was different from the rest, for instead of her family’s snowflake, this one had the shape of a ticking clock. A haste glyph. And as it began to take effect on her body, two more summoning glyphs appeared before her. And from them Weiss drew a pair of shorter swords.

Cinder’s barrage of explosive weaponry came raining down on the huntress, but now she was prepared. With her speed vastly increased she struck forward with her twin blades, slicing down weapon after weapon with her aura, trying to find an opening through the chaos. Taking the first chance she got she crossed her blades and brought them down with all her might, shaping her aura into an X and sending it flying through Cinder’s attack.

First came a disgusting wet sound as the grimm arm was sliced cleanly off, then came the screams. Cinder cried and contorted in agony in mid air, more and more smoke rose from her wound with each passing moment, while her arm began to regrow.

That was it. That was the moment. Weiss just had to close the gap and--!

Pain wracked every muscle of her body, bringing her down to her knees. Her haste glyph had worn off, now her body burned from the overexertion, and a wave of lethargy drained all the strength from her body.

That moment of weakness was all Cinder needed to recover. She growled and with another grand display of might, she reached with her power for every last broken fragment of glass that littered the floor and set them ablaze.

Weiss had no means to escape that one.

It was as if the entire chamber had been carpet bombed, the myriad explosions tossing Weiss around like a ragdoll until she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, dizzy, sore, exhausted. Still she pushed herself off up with all she had left.

Her summoned armor had been completely destroyed, her cape was in ruins, she was covered in soot, and her aura was barely holding it together. Proper tactics would require her to retreat, stay on the defensive, and wait to recover before taking the offense again. Weiss knew she had no such luxury.

Her only chance of survival was to finish Cinder before she had the chance to finish her. So she drew on every last scrap of energy she had left in her body and threw it all into one single desperate plan to end that monster for good.

She forced herself to stand and threw her hand forward, a black gravity glyph forming under the maiden. It pulled her down to the ground with force, but that was far from enough to keep her down. Storm winds filled the chamber, almost knocking Weiss off her feet again, weakening her glyph just enough to let Cinder stand up again.

Weiss threw her other hand and a pair of summoned Centinels emerged from the ground, wrapping themselves around their target, and dragging her back down. Cinder snarled and growled like an animal, slicing at them with her grimm claw and breathing out jets of flame.

Weiss knew they wouldn’t be able to lock her in place for long, so she quickly put the next part of her plan into motion. Another propulsion glyph formed under her and a summon glyph above. The first sent her flying through the second and she emerged on the other side, not with armor, but with a pair of spectral white wings.

Flying up as high as she could, her wings spread at the apex of her flight, holding her in place for one last moment so she could line up one final dive against her prey. One last time the Arma Gigas’s sword took shape in her hand and her wings closed around her.

She spun around her axis as her body plummeted with terrifying speed, the ground approaching her almost too fast for her to react, but right as she was about to collide, her wings spread out and for one glorious moment she was a whirlwind of death, slicing through Cinder with a spinning slash.

And for the first time in years, Cinder’s aura cracked. Blood poured out from a single long gash across her back and she collapsed to the ground. Weiss followed soon after.

She did it.

No, they did it.

Her friends had been avenged. Cinder had fallen. Weiss could finally rest.

That was all she needed right now, to just lie down, close her eyes, and get her well earned rest. The floor beneath her was hard and cold, but she didn’t mind it at all. She was so tired and this was just what she needed.

…

“Weiss!”

“Please wake up!”

“Weiss, please stay with us!”

Huh, she must have fallen asleep there on the floor. She was having that dream again. That dream where all her friends were still alive.

“Jaune, you have to help her!”

What other explanation would she have for this? For these familiar voices, for those warm touches, for the sight of silver eyes hovering just above her.

“Come on! Come on! Come on! Heal damn it!”

It was a nice dream. The kind of dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

So she closed her eyes again and drifted back to sleep...

[krinsbez]

The Heroes, Season Two: The Most Deadly Game

@skjam​, @jcogginsa​, @maxwell-grant​, @anyone else interested...

-The Era: The ‘30s.

-The Location: A jungle island in the Caribbean (I think?)

-The Heroes: Pat Savage; Jane Porter Clayton, Lady Greystoke; Laurence “Larry” Talbot

-The Villains: General Zaroff; The Wolf Man

-The Concept...

Original suggestion by @jcogginsa​...

- General Zaroff, the antagonist of ‘The Most Dangerous  Game’ sinks a cruise ship, which he believes Doc Savage is aboard,  believing that Savage will survive and make it to Zaroff’s island, where  he can hunt him for sport. Unfortunately, he’s misinformed, because the  Savage aboard the ship is actually Patricia Savage, not Clark. She,  along with other pulp heroes who were aboard, then have to deal with  Zaroff. Possibly with the Wolfman and Tarzan involved

Comment by @skjam​:

“Most Dangerous  Game” with Pat Savage?  If you want to make things really tough for  Zaroff, team her up with Jane Clayton, Lady Greystoke.  By the third  Tarzan book, Jane’s the second-best person in the world at jungle  survival.  (She drops back to third once their son reaches his teens.)

Comment by @krinsbez​:

-On Most Dangerous Game: I love the concept, but I can’t buy Gen. Zaroff by himself as being a legitimate threat when Tarzan is involved? (as far as I’m concerned. kidnapping Jane is a form of suicide)

Comment by @jcogginsa​:

Re: Most Dangerous Game, Perhaps Jane was travelling separately from Tarzan for plot related reasons. Alternatively, while Jane manages to escape the Ship due to the place she happened to be in, Tarzan was trapped aboard it. So while She and Pat are dealing with Zaroff and whoever he’s got with him, Tarzan to going through The Poseidon adventure 

Comment by @maxwell-grant​:

Re: Most Dangerous Game. I think Tarzan’s inclusion can actually be a good way to set the pace of the story. He’s not gonna be in the actual roster of characters trapped in Zaroff’s game, because the minute Tarzan meets Zaroff, it’s game over. Instead of making Tarzan a supporting player or main character, we make him to Zaroff what the Crocodile is to Captain Hook.

Maybe Zaroff is either using Jane specifically because he set his sights on the man who most embodies “the most dangerous game” and suicidally thinks he’s a match for Tarzan, or he wants to get rid of Jane as soon as possible because he knows Greystoke is WAY out of his league, and he figures he has to kill her and kill her NOW before Tarzan gets there (he may even consider letting her leave, but then reason that she would eventually tell Tarzan and he’d come after him anyway). His desperation grows as his attempts grow bolder, putting more danger on the characters but also painting a bigger target on his own back as the odds of him being spared a gruesome demise diminish by the second.

Putting somewhat of a role reversal where not only our characters have to deal with being hunted, but our villain hunting them is also dealing with being hunted himself, and he’s either scared shitless or unreasonably excited over it. Maybe both. Having Zaroff as a co-protagonist of sorts I think could be a way to shake up the structure compared to the last season, since he’s very different from Count Satan and a far more dynamic, engaging character. For our heroes, the time is ticking until Zaroff finds them. And for Zaroff, the time is ticking until Tarzan finds him. Will our heroes defeat Zaroff and escape? Will Zaroff kill one or more of them before Tarzan arrives? Will Tarzan arrive in time?

Another note: Zaroff’s casting. I don’t really have too strong of an idea but one that comes to mind is Jemaine Clement, based on his performances as Boris the Animal and particularly Vladislav (genuinely one of my favorite on-screen Draculas). Someone who can play a decadent, aristocratic villain who can be both reasonably intimidating but also humorous and likeable enough for us to even sort of root for him, even as he’s being a dastardly ghoul.

His comedy chops in particular make me think he could do a great job at depicting the gradual mental breakdown of Zaroff as his ego unravels and all his plans fail and he grows all the more desperate to kill the girl and her stupid friends NOW before that damn dirty ape man gets here and ruins everything oh god he’s gonna be here any minute NO, WHAT NONSENSE, I AM THE GRREAT COUNT ZAROFF, I SHOULD BE RRR-RELISHING THE ODDS OF FACING THE GRRREATEST OF BEASTS, BUT OH GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE WHY WON’T SHE DIE-

Comment by @jcogginsa​:

I definitely think Zaroff would be excited, though I could also see the mixture being a good idea.

One thing I worry about regarding Tarzan’s presence as a looming threat for Zaroff is that it might do a disservice to the leads to have the villain constantly fearing the arrival of a different character. However, I gives me an idea.

Basically, at some point within the season, Zaroff begins receiving updates from his servants, regarding the approach of Tarzan, eventually getting to the point where Tarzan is actively on the island, and Zaroff has to move quickly so as to simultaneously hunt the girls while avoiding him.

Then in the Climax, the truth comes out: Tarzan was never there. He hasn’t even received word of the boat’s sinking yet, so he doesn’t even know Jane is in danger. The updates on his approach were orchestrated by the girls, as a form of psychological warfare to throw Zaroff off his game.

Comment by @maxwell-grant​:

@jcogginsa​ Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I see no reason to do anything different.

It allows both for Zaroff’s fears and desperation to keep stewing until a boiling point and for him to grow into the co-protagonist role but also doesn’t downplay the worth of our protagonists. I imagined early on that Tarzan would have little to no role in the proceedings and the downfall of Zaroff (and whatever other villain we may team him with) would be brought entirely by the girls under his nose, but to have Tarzan not even be on his way not only ups the tension for the girls, but it also makes their victory more impressive.

In regards to Zaroff being scared of Tarzan: I suggest it mostly because I think it leads to fun scenarios and also makes him a bit of an underdog even which better suits my idea of Zaroff as almost the co-protagonist, but I do think it can be grounded in stronger reasons. I imagine Zaroff wouldn’t be scared of Doc Savage, despite also being someone bordering on superhuman, because Doc isn’t exactly known for being a wild man of legend who is perfectly willing to inflict savage jungle brutality on those who cross him and his allies, Doc is known as a great adventurer, man of science and crimefighter. Zaroff, in his arrogance, would think of Doc as a great challenge, but one he could take. A city dweller spoiled by his riches and privilege. He would like to think of himself as able to overcome Doc, as he overcomes the jungle and all savage beings in it. “It appears Clark Jr wasn’t much of a Savage after all”, he says as he mounts a new head on his wall.

Of course Count Zaroff at first is going to be dissappointed that the Savage he was looking to hunt is not the great doctor, but merely his female cousin. And Zaroff isn’t going to be scared of Jane. Why, the Grreat Count Zaroff, being scared of, dare I say it, a WOMAN? TWO, EVEN? PRREPOSTEROUS.

But the Legendary Count Greystoke, Tarzan of the Apes, he who kills and skins lions with his bare hands, fears nothing and no one, who knows the jungle far better than Zaroff ever could and can rely on all it’s inhabitants for help, and is known for being fiercely protective of the woman he loves and has killed men for lesser offenses? Zaroff isn’t that suicidal, and of course the girls use the fact that they are underestimated to their advantage. Zaroff only thinks of the girls, and whoever else they are with, as targets, and Tarzan as the only threat he is terrified and excited for in equal measure, and that becomes his undoing.

Comment by @jcogginsa​:

I’m glad you like the idea Max. A further thought on the season: When I first pitched the idea, I recall throwing out the possibility of the Wolf Man, Lawrence Talbot, being present, and I’d like to expand on that.

The idea goes that Zaroff has let the Wolfman loose on his island, with the intent of passing him off as a beast terrorizing the local populace. The reason he does this is because he quite admires Doc Savage, and before he hunts the man, he’d like to hunt alongside him. Pat and Jane are initially a disappointment to him, as he figures that women aren’t really good enough to make for an entertaining hunt. However, when Pat and Jane hear about the ‘beast’, they insist on helping the hunt, since they’re good conscious won’t let them leave that be.

In the process of hunting the Wolfman and (seemingly) killing him, Zaroff becomes impressed enough with them that he decides they’re good prey after all. Jane and Pat eventually meet up with Lawrence, who tells him of Zaroff’s original plan of hunting Doc, and that’s when they put together the Tarzan fake out plan. They figure that if Zaroff’s goal was to hunt Doc, then he could have simply sent Pat to inform him of the ‘threat’ so as to lure him to the island, and that the only reason why he wouldn’t have done so would be because it would draw Tarzan to the island as well

And I think we’re caught up!

So, I like the idea of having poor Larry in the mix; it’s even possible he volunteered for the gig, because I’m pretty sure that at this point (while I don’t believe we have an official timeframe for the Universal Monsters films, they all take place in the late Nineteenth century, so Larry’s been The Wolf Man for decades) he’s pretty much given up on being cured, and is now trying to find a way to die that will actually stick (at this point he’s been “killed” with silver and then revived by magic or mad science so many times it doesn’t work anymore, it just keeps him down for a few years or less), and Zaroff has convinced him he can do that.

It very quickly becomes apparent Zaroff lied about that, and Larry is Not. Happy. I mean, even more so than usual. Also, Zaroff failed to mention there would be other people on the island who might become Wolf Man chow, or that said people would be female.

I also imagine that Zaroff underestimated how dangerous The Wolf Man is; he figured, OK it’s basically an oversized wolf, and I’ve killed loads of those, as long as I keep some silver rounds on hand, it’ll be fine. He’s a modern man, not prone to believing in peasant superstitions, and did not really comprehend how unnaturally vicious and hard to kill the thing is.

It also adds an extra element of danger, even if Tarzan does arrive, because his usual toolbox is not gonna help with The Wolf Man, and in fact is liable to get him turned into a werewolf himself, and the idea of Tarzan as a werewolf is too terrible to contemplate.

On the plus side, Pat’s pretty confident her cousin can cure him. She just has to convince Larry of that.

[haitanirindo]

I just don’t get how z*taras suddenly think that they’re somehow the least toxic ship fandom. Like, are we forgetting how you have been demonizing Mai and Aang for well over a decade, and constantly shitting on the canon ships of the show, and honestly hating on the avatar franchise as a whole consistently?? But no, zukkas are somehow misogynistic for liking a m|m ship that happens to not include Katara?? I love zukka but that doesn’t mean I don’t love Katara (she’s actually one of my favorite characters in the whole avatar universe). I’m not gonna pretend that there are some not cool zukkas out there (calling being homophobic for not caring for a ship is dumb), but not only is that the minority, but almost EVERY fandom has its toxic shippers. That doesn’t speak for the whole fandom and honestly, most of the zukka fandom is full of some of the most talented, tolerant, and kind people I’ve interacted with. It just frustrates me to no end that zukkas are pretty damn tolerant and loving of Suki and Sukka and Mai etc etc but because they don’t like Z*tara (for good reason, I liked the ship but the fandom is just so negative), we’re automatically deemed as the most toxic fandom. Just an ending note, I have never once seen a zukka hate on Katara. If I were to see that, I would challenge them to a duel.

i agree! i love katara and i have yet to see any hate directed at her from a zukka shipper. (zvtara shippers often cite the “homophobic katara” ordeal that went down last year but... it was literally just a joke. no one genuinely believes that katara is homophobic). saying we’re misogynistic or we just “hate katara” because she isn’t included in our ship is as ridiculous as it is hilarious.

there are definitely toxic people in every fandom and zukka unfortunately isn’t any different. i agree that calling someone homophobic for not liking one mlm ship is honestly pretty stupid. but the zukka fandom as a whole is probably one of the best fandoms i’ve ever been a part of. there’s so much talent in our little corner of the internet and (almost) everyone i’ve interacted with is so nice. like, unreasonably nice.

i addressed a lot of this in my most recent ask. for zvtara shippers to claim that zukka shippers hate katara (without proof) when they’ve been bashing mai and aang for YEARS is so hypocritical.