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odissey061 · 4 years ago

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Fandom: Bungo stray dogs

Parenting with(out) you [pt. 1]

Aka: What happens when Dark era!Dazai becomes father a month before Oda's death.

A few notes before you read:

- the reader had a childhood really similar to Dazai’s, this means that from a certain age she was “”””adopted””” by the boss of some task force and since then she works there.

- This story starts when both the reader and Dazai are eighteen years old, some times before Dazai leaves the Port Mafia. They are both adults and Dazai leaves the Port Mafia when he’s 19, so the event in the canon (when he’s in the ADA) happens when he is 23.

- It’s not really explicitly stated, but the reader is depressed just like Dazai.

You met Dazai when you were on an undercover mission in Yokohama and your duty was to find more information about a certain criminal association. Periodically, you referred your progress on the investigation to your partner, whom he spoke with the boss. Of course, you never told them that you were in love with the most dangerous executive director in the Port Mafia, Osamu Dazai

You knew each other thanks to Oda. You fell for him (and he fell for you) at first sight, recognizing in the other’s eyes the same feeling of lingering despair. It was sudden, but you didn’t suppress the blossoming love. In your mind it was fine, since you didn’t have to investigate the Port Mafia. You knew it was dangerous developing feelings during a mission and you also were aware of the crimes committed by the young executive director.

Dazai, on the other hand, didn’t know you were a spy. After a while you had started dating, he fully trusted you: how could he don’t when he recognized you as his soulmate? He read you like an open book and he knew you could do the same with him. Your souls were identical: affection starved and longing for someone who could totally understand you.

There were times in which he demanded your attention, like a dog that ask for being petted: he tried to gain your attention messing with you as you worked, until you kissed him. And other times he took you love forcefully, biting and marking your skin like a predator that marked his prey. The night you became pregnant was just like that. When he entered in your house, he immediately kissed you, not giving you the chance of greeting him. Neither of you spoke much that night. Probably something big happened during his last mission to make him so shaken.

Dazai felt the need to hold you so tight that you couldn't breathe and you let him. That night there wasn't any foreplay, nor dirty words or any preparation. He held your hands as he rammed mercilessly inside you like a madman. The pleasure ran in your veins as you asked Osamu to go slower -he had never been so rough with you before to the point to make your womanhood ache.

Oh, and you didn’t use protection. Osamu was even more aroused seeing his white semen flowing out of you, so he went on multiple times, not caring of the possible consequences. It was like the button of his rationality was switched off. He stopped as soon as he noticed that you passed out during your lovemaking. He recognized he went too far and he murmured apologises to your sleeping for as he cleaned you, promising that he was going to ask your forgiveness when you were awake. He snuggled to your body, clinging on you.

The chance of you becoming pregnant was really low, but it wasn’t impossible. You discovered you were pregnant when your menstruation didn’t come for the third month in a row. You were terrorized: nothing could prepare you for what was going to come. Neither you and your boyfriend conducted a normal life plus, you were also undercover.

What was the right thing to do? You knew how much Dazai tried to keep your relationship unknown to Mori, but a child? Hiding a kid was even more difficult, probably it wasn’t even possible. As you were going out of mind, your partner communicated to you that your boss was planning to betray the government.

There was the chance of disappearing from the radar during the mission and your partner helped you to carry on with your idea. Now you were a civilian. You still didn’t know what to do, if to keep the child or not. You had to talk with Dazai about this situation.

When Dazai discovered you were pregnant with his child, he froze. For the first time he sensed he was going to faint. The problems and the questions were too many and both of you were only 18 years old. You were too young and the situation was too big. The two of them thought about the solution for two months -when the miscarriage was no longer feasible.

With a talk with Oda he understood that there were two possibilities left: giving the child in adoption or trying to raise them. Dazai was scared: neither you or him had a normal childhood or a proper parent. For the whole pregnancy the executive director distanced himself for you: he needed time to think and he didn’t want you to be influenced by his thoughts since he knew your mental health was really important.

He asked Oda to take care of you in his place. Even if he was distant from you, he still cared about you: he called you three times in a week to know if you were fine and when you had to go to the doctor he went with you (he asked Oda if he was in a mission)

The doctor informed you that you could decide to give the child in adoption until a week after the birth. You decided to sustain whatever solution your boyfriend came up with.

Your waters broke when you were having a meal with Oda. Panic overwhelmed you as he carried you to the closest hospital. As the doctors took you away, he called Osamu saying that his child was going to be born. The executive director immediately left the reunion with Mori and his boss wondered what could make the ruthless Dazai so pale.

Osamu stayed outside the room with his friend, knowing that he would have fainted if he were with you. Oda was lowkey amused seeing his friend so nervous renowned his promise to help you both to raise your child. Hours later, the nurse gave him permission to enter in the room where you were resting. His nerves were torn apart: he spent ten hours not knowing if you were okay and if the operation was going smoothly. He knew that there was the possibility for you to die, even if the pregnancy was carried out without any problems, and he regretted the decision of not entering with you inside.

But as soon as he walked in, all his fears melted like snow in the sun: you were fine and you held in your arm a small bundle. The light of the rising sun at your back made you look like a celestial being to Osamu, who froze for a second at the entrance. You smiled at him, on the verge of tears, and told him to meet your daughter.

Dazai wondered if he could hold her with his hands stained with blood and you laughed, handing him the bundle. As soon as he held his daughter in his arms, you understood he fell in love for the second time. A tear rolled down his cheeks and he whispered:”She is so beautiful. She looks like you”. He had never felt so happy and for the first time he understood the value of being alive. He wanted to keep her, he decided it as soon as he saw her for the first time.

She started to cry and he impanicated, not knowing what to do. You held her close to your breast and she sucked the milk. “How can we name our daughter?” he asked in a sweet tone: seeing you feeding your daughter filled his heart with happiness and tenderness. In that moment you acknowledged two things: he wanted to keep the child and her name. You answered: “Keiko*. With the meaning of lucky child”. You hoped that that child could also bring happiness and luck to your new family. “It’s beautiful” he commented.

(Missing part) everyone to be sure none could report him. If you continued to live there, your daughter would have been in danger. So you did the only thing you could think of: escaping. You wrote a letter where you told the truth to Dazai and you left the Country.

When he read the sheet he felt betrayed: he understood why you didn’t tell him your true identity, but he wondered why you didn’t talk to him about the current situation you were in. He was one of the most powerful people in the Country, he could have protected you and your child! Only a week later Oda died and Dazai left the Mafia. It happened too fast for him.

When he joined the ADA, he talked with Fukuzawa about the single-parenting situation and the president understood him and asked him if one of his secretaries could work as a babysitter. Dazai accepted his offer.

Three year passed and no matter his efforts, he couldn’t find you. Of course, he knew that you were trained to cover your traces, but he didn’t suspect you were so good at hiding. There were days when he thought you were dead and in those days he lost the desire to tease Kunikida at work. None of his colleagues knew he was depressed, but his daughter inherited your ability to read him like a book, so she knew her father’s feelings. When he feel blue, Keiko runs toward him as soon as he enter in the house and she tries to cheer him up in every way she can. Dazai smiled with a hint of sadness. So young yet so perceptive, you’d be proud of our daughter.

Due to his new job, he couldn’t spend much time with her, but you can bet he spoiled her as much as he could: he bought for her everything she asked for. Clothes, shoes, games… he didn’t restrain himself at all. But he also taught her how to behave and some good principles.

Every free moment he had, he spent it with Keiko: during the weekend, he brought her to play in a park he’s super careful about not letting the boys come too close to her xd, every night he read her the story of the goodnight. He played with her whenever he could and often he works at home to stay with her Kunikida knows that he won’t work at all even if he doesn’t know the real reason (and he’s right). Above all Dazai is a playful parent, but he doesn’t miss the occasion to scold her when he has to.

Dazai knew that soon or later she would ask him where his mother was and why she wasn’t there, but he still wasn’t ready for her questions. The first time Keiko asked about you, he answered that you really loved her and that the month you spent together was the happiest moment of his life.

When she asked if he still loves her, Dazai told the truth: he still loved you and he could never love someone with the same intensity. Happy for the answer, Keiko hugged him saying:”I want mommy here, so we can be a happy family again”. He hugged her back, preferred not telling her that her mother could be dead or in love with another person. Never as in that moment she wished you were there with them.

They slept together that night and the morning after he went to the cemetery where Oda was. He asked him if he was a good parent and if he was doing enough to cover your absence.

The first time he heard about you, was a year later when a client came to the Agency asking for a detective who could help him to find you. The man showed the photo and Dazai affirmed he accepted the case (to Kunikida’s surprise since the man only showed a photo). Dazai understood the whole thing was fishy since the man claimed to be your father. He was excited that he finally had a clue about you.

He immersed himself in the case so seriously that Kunikida almost had a stroke. Keiko was a bit upset since her father worked at home too, not caring about her at all, but every complaint vanished when Dazai told her that maybe he could find her mother. In a couple of months he finally found you.

The Osamu you remembered is really different from the one who found you and you were really scared when he brought you to his home. You reminded all the fascicles about how he killed people when he was in the Port Mafia. You knew he hated you for what he did and you feared he was going to torture you or something similar, since he showed no sign of happiness or a gesture of affection. You couldn’t be more wrong! He only decided to have a small revenge for the lack of trust.

When you entered in the empty house (Dazai sent your daughter to the babysitter’s house for some days in order to have a serious chat with you) you sat at the table as Dazai took two bottles of wine. “Let’s have a chat” he said as he poured the alcohol in your glass. And the misunderstand happened: you mistook his seriousness as rage, that made you nervous and Dazai misunderstood your nervousness, thinking you didn’t love him anymore.

“I’m sorry for what I did …” then you stopped: how could you address him now? Osamu seemed too intimate for a fiancèe who left her lover for years, so you opted for his last name. Osamu frowned hearing his last name: he didn’t like the distance that the appellative created. During the past four years, he thought a lot about your relationship and he came with the solution he could have treated you better: he didn’t abuse you or something similar, but he betrayed your trust a lot of time and he flirted with a lot of women. In his eyes he treated you awfully and he was really sure you found a new boyfriend, much better than him.

Neither of you spoke much and you were always more convinced that you wouldn’t be able to leave that house the morning. Osamu talked:”Why didn’t you tell me you were in danger? I could protect you, both you and my daughter...”. He thought to call Keiko our daughter, but he changed idea and you were a bit upset by the adjective. Anyway, you didn’t have any right to protest: could you still call Keiko yours after you left her? He continued:”A week later your abandonment, Oda died during a mission and Ango revealed himself like the spy he was. I left the Port Mafia. My word was falling apart and I had also a newborn to take care of. And you were elsewhere, probably with someone else”.

You really felt guilty and tears rolled down your cheek. Dazai, who had covered his face as he was speaking, raised the head and watched you dumbfounded. The truth was that the implied blame in his speech, hurt you like a gunshot, and, accompanied by four years of feeling guilty, she cried. That was their worst fight, even if neither of them raised their voice. She sobbed, telling that she had been feeling a shit for the past few years, that there wasn’t a day without she thought about her family and that she completely understood his decision to consider Keiko his own daughter.

Osamu started to think rationally again and when he understood they were under an enormous misunderstanding, he chuckled, gently caressing her hair. “We are both dummies: I gave you the cold shoulder to have a small revenge of your lack of trust and you thought I hated you. You couldn’t be more wrong: I thought about you everyday too” and he embraced her. You cried even more after knowing that he still loved you.

He carried you in his bedroom and he kissed you until you stopped crying. The moment was so sweet and tender: he murmured sweet words of love and affection, peppering your face with butterflies and playful kisses. You started to undress him and he started to do the same with you. There were still many things to talk about, but for that night it was enough.

The lovemaking had never been so gentle: he did so many foreplays that you were already crying for the overstimulation, but Osamu wanted to be sure to not hurt you. Before proceeding, he wondered if you were fine and you nodded. He kissed every tear left as he told you how blissfully he felt to be in your life again.

The pace was so slow that you almost decided to ride him, but Dazai convinced you with a glare to accept this rhythm. Whimpers and whines left your mouth as he reminded you how sweet was be loved by him and he remembered how beautiful you were.

Even during the afterglow, he continued to coax your lips in a stream of kisses that saw the both of you so close that could not pass a breath of air between your bodies, but neither of you complained about it. After a long wild, when your brain was melted and your body boneless, you remembered that you still had not seen your daughter.

Dazai told you that she was sent to the babysitter for some days since you had to have a talk between yourself and deciding what you were going to do. He promised to let you see her the day after tomorrow since you had to talk about a lot of things as a couple.

He proposed you to come to work at the ADA since you had years of experience as a secret agent and you accepted. The day later he talked to Fukuzawa for your recruitment and when he proposed you an interview for today, he intervened saying it was too soon. Then he hung up: there were still less than twelve hours before you met Keiko and he intended to have you full attention focused only on him.

He took you in his arms and he brought you to your bedroom ;) one night wasn't enough to cover the years you spent apart

Notes:

A lot of things are left unsaid, like the identity of the man who asked for you at the ADA and how Dazai treated you as he worked in the Port Mafia, so if you want you can ask me to write a fic about these topics. Please, ask me. I have so many ideas and headcanon for this AU and Dark Era!Dazai.

In the next part, we'll see how the Agency + Chuuya react to a chibi version of Dazai👀. Be ready for the absolute chaos

#bsd Dazai #bungo stray dogs Dazai #Dazai x reader #Dazai dark era #dazai smut

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rachelsheart · 4 years ago

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DIAL 111: HOW TO WORK WITH YOUR SPIRIT GUIDES

BY: RUBY WARRINGTON ·

Do you know how to work with your spirit guides? Ruby Warrington gets a lesson in life’s celestial helpers from spirit-guide-whisperer Rebecca Campbell…

There follows a lesson in how to work with your spirit guides by Rebecca Campbell. Read more at Thenuminous.net

Inviting them into your dreams is one way to work with your spirit guides…

It happens fairly often among my Numinous circles that somebody will casually drop into the conversation that they’ve been working with their “spirit guides.” At which point I’ll nod and be like, “that’s rad, dude” – because, conceptually, I’m totally down with the idea that there are benevolent Universal forces working on our behalf all the time, and that we get to choose how and when we interact with them. That’s called “creating your own reality,” right?

But then I meet Rebecca Campbell, an Aussie author, mystic, coach, and co-founder of The Spirited Project, who insists that our guides are actually more like real entities – angels, I guess – who are just kind of hanging out, polishing their wings, until we call them into action. Learn to work with them, and they can offer assistance in every area of life – in fact; “no request is too big or too small, too specific or too broad,” she says.

It’s a pretty out there idea, even for me. And I (obviously) embrace a LOT of out there ideas. But I LOVE the concept (I’m already picturing my guides like a kind of spiritual Spice Girls, with the dance routines and everything), and so I asked Rebecca for the full low down. Here’s what she had to say…

Your guides – kind of like spiritual Spice Girls?

So does every individual on the planet have their own spirit guides?

Yep, everyone has their very own team of spirit guides who are completely devoted to their growth. I like to think of them as a group of amazing cosmic beings who have our back no matter what. But because of free will, in order to receive their support, first we need to ask. Asking is super simple (like, you can do it right now).

For general guidance:

“Hey spirit guides…I am open to receiving your loving guidance in all areas of my life. Thank you, and so it is.”

For more specific guidance:

“Hey spirit guides…I am open to receiving your guidance surrounding (insert specific request here). Thank you for guiding and supporting me.”

The thing about spirit guides is that they’re always there – we just don’t notice them. When you’re devastated by a terrible break up, they’re there. When you’re looking for a spot to park your car, they’re there. If you’re trying to make a difficult decision, they’re there. They’re by your side right now. What do you want their help with right now? Go on, ask them right now!

Okay, but first I need to know how they actually do their work?

Our spirit guides work with us through signs, people, nature, synchronistic events and our intuitive senses (inner seeing, inner knowing, inner hearing and inner feeling).

So the best way to start working with your spirit guides is to ask them for a sign. When I first started working with my guides I asked them to send me a light peach feather to prove to me that they were really there. Within half an hour I had received two peach feathers, which was pretty amazing – and what I needed to open my mind and heart up to noticing the support they could offer me. (nb: I tried this last night by asking for a blue crystal – nothing yet. I’ll keep you posted. Update: two hours later I was working out and found a mini crustal on the studio floor – but it was mauve. Close!)

The more you work with your spirit guides, the stronger the connection gets. It’s just like working out – you can’t expect to have a six-pack like J-Lo if you only do one sit up.

Okay, so is there one team of spirit guides working for us all, or are they individual for each person?

Everyone has their own team of spirit guides, which are assigned just to them. We are born with spirit guides and also recruit them as we go about our life.

I find that most people have around six spirit guides in their “inner circle.” These are the guides who are completely unique to us. Some spirit guides have had lifetimes here on earth (often appearing as “people” e.g. an American Indian teacher, a Tibetan monk, an inspirational business leader etc.) – while others may just appear as beings of light.

I believe that our purpose on Earth is twofold:

1. Evolve as a soul (learning, growing and raising our vibration)

2. Be the light (light up the world by following what lights us up)

Our spirit guides are assigned to us to help us do both these things. The more we allow and receive their guidance and support, the easier our path becomes.

Accept their support, and move forward more smoothly on your journey

I like the idea of us being “assigned” out guides at birth – how does this happen?

Your soul recruits your spirit guides based on your unique soul calling and the path you are here to walk. Your guides are perfectly suited to your highest calling, and waiting to guide you as much or as little as you wish. No matter what you’re facing, their presence means you always have the support around you to make it through.

I believe that we are born with one main guide (also known as a Guardian Angel) who stays with us throughout our lives – and by the age of 18-25 most people have recruited their spirit guide “posse.”

We can recruit more guides as needed though. For example, while writing my book Light Is The New Black I recruited two light beings and a new teacher guide to help me – in exactly the same way as I used to call on famous ad men to help me present my creative ideas in a way that would most resonate with the client when I worked in advertising.

What if I’m still having a hard time getting my head around the concept…

What holds most people back from developing a relationship with their spirit guides is their need for hard core visual “proof” that they exist. For a long time, I was waiting for my spirit guides to ring my doorbell and chat to me over a bottle of vino (clearly that never happened).

I wanted to know their hair color, their favorite movies and where they grew up. But the moment I Iet go of any need for them to appear in a certain way and just opened myself up to the possibility and trusted, the more my relationship with my guides grew and the more evidence of their presence I received in other ways.

Everyone’s experience with their spirit guides is personal, and because they work in the subtle realms, it takes practice to sense them. We are all six sensory beings, but we need to work our intuitive muscles each day to strengthen our intuitive connection with them.

Most people experience their guides through their predominant intuitive sense: Clairvoyant (clear seeing), Clairaudient (clear hearing), Clairsentient (clear feeling) and Claircognizant (clear knowing).

Can you give us some tips to start working with them on a regular basis then?

1. Start asking them for guidance…right now

2. Thank them for guiding you – they love a bit of positive reinforcement!

3. Ask them to send you a sign (e.g. a feather, a butterfly, elephants…whatever you fancy)

4. Keep a little notebook by your bed, and jot down any experience you might have had with them and any signs you spotted throughout the day. The more your book fills up, the more you will notice their support

5. Before you go to sleep ask your spirit guides to come to you in your dreams. The moment you wake up, note down any experiences you may have had with them

“She’s behind you…” Your spirit guides have always got your back

I’m almost convinced – can you share any amazing experiences you’ve had working with your guides?

These days I speak to my spirit guides every day – but my favorite story of working with my guides happened earlier this year, when I handed in my book proposal to Hay House (twice) but hadn’t heard anything.

One of my spirit guides is a woman (spirit) named Charlotte. Charlotte appears as a terribly English high society lady from the 1920’s who wears big dresses, hats and gloves. A gifted gossip, with her fingers in all the most influential pies, Charlotte is here to help me get my message out there and the name spoken about in the right circles. Knowing that getting some publicity might increase my chances of being published, I called on Charlotte for help and then surrendered it.

That same day I was connected with a journalist – and one week later she was commissioned to write a story, “Like a Prayer”, for the UK’s Sunday Times Style Mag (which also happened to feature the who’s who of Hay House authors, as well as The Numinous).Two weeks later, I got the phone call from Hay House offering me a deal!

When I went into Hay House to meet the team for the first time, the Publicity Officer mentioned that she’d seen the Sunday Times article and asked who my publicist was. Without thinking I responded “my spirit guide Charlotte!” Now, I’ve sat around a lot of boardroom tables in my life, but that was the first one that I was able to casually drop the name of one of my spirit guides and credit them for their work. I love it!

Ruby Warrington

RUBY WARRINGTON

MY MANTRA: Believing is Healing. MY MISSION: To help create a world where everybody gets to feel whole. // MY STYLE: Rock 'n' roll yogi fashionista. 99% recycled and vintage. // MY SIGN: Aries Sun, Sagittarius Rising, Cancer Moon. // MY HEALING: Time with friends, time alone, time offline, getting Sober Curious, and being f*cking real with myself!

Rachel's Heart

#child of wild #higher self #love self #self love #spiritualpath #nature #spiritualawakening #spiritual development #spirituality

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elsanna-shenanigans · 4 years ago

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December Contest Submission #8: Scintillating

words: ca. 4500 setting: mAU lemon: yes cw: alcohol consumption, nipple play, some swearing, not vegan-friendly decor

Condensation coiled past her lips, fogging her vision and drawing her eyes up to the spattering of stars above them. For a moment, Elsa forgot all about the reason that had brought them here in the first place, stopping in her tracks to gaze up in wonderment. A smile drew itself slowly across her lips as she fell into the beauty of the cold, distant lights cast down on the frozen, snow-shrouded wilderness around them. She tilted her head and the whitish grey faux-fur trim of her midnight blue winter jacket brushed softly against her cheek as she tried recognizing the constellations above her.

��Anna.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it had been so quiet around them but for the shuffling of their boots through snow that Elsa knew her younger sister wouldn’t have had to strain to hear her name. She tore her gaze away from the firmament to find Anna had already cued into the night’s glory overhead, and her heart swelled at the awestruck delight on the freckled face she held so dear. Freckles she couldn’t help but note had the same chaotic harmony as the stars they admired. They were rivalled only by the twinkle of mirth in Anna’s eyes and Elsa’s breath hitched as her eyes ran over the soft, beautiful lines of her cheekbones, her jawline, her throat, her nose, her mouth… Elsa averted her eyes from the delicately pink lips, exhaling shakily. Virtue of habit.

“I hope we get enough clear skies while we’re here, I could be out every night.”

Anna’s eyes went wide with apprehension and it was all Elsa could do to bite back a smirk, thinking of how expressive her sister was. ‘Don’t you dare make me choose between stargazing and standing around in -32°C weather’

“Yeah well, I’m not sure I could be, if it’s as cold as it is now.”

Elsa chuckled, her words having simply confirmed what her eyes had already communicated.

“Aw c’mon,” she teased gently. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“At this rate you’re going to have to light me on fire if you don’t want me to freeze before we make it to the chalet. Besides, you’re going to like the master bedroom.”

She shook her head wordlessly at the hyperbole, considering that while granted, the snow was knee deep, they were only a couple of footfalls away from the front steps. The house loomed darkly, melding into the thicket of pine trees behind it, but for the fairy lights that caused the snow beneath them to scintillate with prismatic pastels, each individual snowflake detaching itself from the rest this way. It was the sort of small wonders that gave Elsa reason to look forward to winter each year.

Readjusting her backpack, Elsa gave one last effort hoisting herself out of the snow to climb up the front porch and immediately began digging for the key that’d sunk to the bottom of her pocket. After a moment of struggling, feeling for it through her gloves, she pulled it out triumphantly and unlocked the front door. She bared her hands and dropped her backpack, blindly feeling for a light switch. When she finally did, her eyes fluttered in adjusting to the brightness. The interior was shockingly well-curated, the very definition of rustic chic between the wood, the stone, the plaid, the sheepskin, furs etc. A touch of charm and magic came by the way of understated yet elegant seasonal decorations. Mistletoe, cedar wreaths, holly, pine garlands accented by silver, red and blue ornaments. Logs and kindling were set up in the fireplace, ready to be set alight.

It was nothing short of a miracle that they’d even been able to book this on such short notice. Honestly, she had no idea where and how Anna had managed to find this rental, but it was proving to blow up her expectations at every turn. Granted, when her sister had announced that they would need to drive roughly 7 and a half hours to get here, Elsa’s excitement had been mitigated, at best. Yet she also knew that its remoteness was likely what made the destination so affordable. And more importantly, now that they were here she understood there was a great deal of comfort in putting that much distance between them and their apartment in Ottawa, along with their roommates and friends. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

The thought brought back into focus the main reason they’d even decided to get away for the winter holidays to spend them with each other.

They had a lot to talk about.

Elsa glanced back, checking up on Anna who was pulling the toboggan they’d cleverly brought along to more easily transport all of their things from the car. She noted the unsteady grip and sought to deliver her from the icy wind.

“Why don’t you go get the fire started? I’ll get the rest of the stuff inside.”

The younger woman didn’t need to be asked twice, dropping the toboggan’s cord and hurriedly shuffling through the snow, running up towards the warmth of the house. Elsa half expected her to immediately disappear inside, but that was something Anna had no intentions of doing without first stopping to throw her arms around her older sister. Caught off guard, Elsa did not immediately respond, but after a few moments had passed, she hesitantly brought her hands up to embrace her waist.

“Thank you,” Anna whispered, her lips tickling against her ear.

Elsa shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.

✧✧✧

It had taken some time for the chalet to warm up properly after Anna had gotten the fire going, but that had suited them just fine. Elsa had fixed them up some hot chocolate, with a healthy splash of Bailey’s and a hint of peppermint, crowned with marshmallows. She’d glanced down, gaze softened by tender affection as Anna had curled up against her on the couch, strands of red tickling Elsa’s collarbone as their beverages had heated them up from the inside out. The cold outside was soon forgotten as the flames had roared up, hot air cradling their faces in conjunction with the heavy blanket they’d drawn up over themselves.

Elsa’s mind had soon grown restless however, the initial serenity engineered by the enchantment of their new setting dissipating as her thoughts had raced back to the conversation they’d kept on hold for exactly eighteen days (she’d kept count). Shackled by habit she’d wanted to slide her hand down to rest on Anna’s waist, fingertips seeking the hem of her sweater, but she’d taken forever before actually deciding to make a move.

At the time she’d found it easier to simply talk about the future than the present, telling Anna that they would need to set a reminder for the following day to try and witness the Great Conjunction between Saturn and Jupiter, which would this year occur on the Winter Solstice. She’d blushed sheepishly when Anna had pointed out that lack of light pollution was yet another reason she’d wanted to venture so far from what most people would commonly regard as civilization, knowing and understanding how beautifully rare it was to be alive for such a celestial event.

The as of yet unspoken words had continued to tighten her throat, preventing her from bringing up the subject she was so anxious to broach, but was terrifyingly paralyzed by. It hadn’t been until their drinks were close to done (without counting the occasional topping off with more coffee liqueur) that Elsa’s tongue finally decided to cooperate with her brain. Eighteen days had been far too long to chew on their last exchange about the matter at hand, overthinking, overanalyzing, second guessing everything that had been said.

By now, she felt pretty warm and she allowed the blanket to slide off her a little more, unzipping her hoodie, skin gently glowing with the flickering, crackling of the fire.

“Anna, I…”

She felt her sister shift slightly, likely looking up at her. Elsa wetted her lips nervously, knowing she had her full attention.

“We…”

The struggle was real, but she was glad there wasn’t any interjection coming. She made a mental note to thank Anna for her patience later.

“Firstly I’m sorry I cut you off so abruptly when we talked about… this, a few weeks ago.”

Perhaps it was a calculated nonchalance on her part but on the other hand she figured it would just sound strange to actually say ‘eighteen days ago’ out loud.

“And I hope,” she continued. “That you understand what I meant when I said that we needed to talk this out some more, I wouldn’t want you to think I didn’t feel the same way.”

There was a slight loss of body heat as Anna sat up a little straighter. It was brief, however, as she felt a hand gently grasp the side of her face, tilting her head down towards her sister.

“Elsa. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, you deserve clarity, I-“

“Elsa.”

Her lips fell heavy and she stopped talking, looking down at the dark intensity in Anna’s gaze.

“You think too much. And gods, I’m Twenty-five, not Fifteen. I know I’ll always be your ‘baby sis’ - oh yeah, I’ve seen your caller ID listing - but I’m not a naive, innocent little girl anymore. I understand.”

Elsa dared to lean slightly into the touch on her face, her gaze softening. She felt a thumb brush gently against the edge of her cheekbone and managed a smile.

“What do you understand?”

“I understand that you’re scared. Hell, I am fucking terrified. I understand that I want you in ways I shouldn’t, love you in ways beyond my mandate as your little sister. I understood with every kiss, every lingering touch we shared that night that you felt the same way. I also understand why you pulled away after I kissed your neck, because I know you, Elsa. I know you don’t trust yourself, I know you have so carefully crafted an armour and delicately cultivated a self-possessed facade to protect yourself from the world. And I also understand what it would mean for us, for our lives if one of our roommates or friends were to discover the truth. And I know it must have felt like torture for you to be so hyper vigilant about the way you spoke to me, the way you looked at me, the way you touched me and the restraint you exerted. I could feel the fucking fire coming off of you. So I understand why you said what you said - you were buying time, and I understand why you acted the way you did - you were protecting us both.”

Her eyebrows had risen and she stared at Anna, completely bewildered at what she was hearing. Though she was ordinarily loquacious, her sister was seldom ever so brutally to the point. More than that, she realized this meant Anna somehow knew about the feelings Elsa had harboured for her for quite some time. She wondered how long, worried that if Anna had noticed, others might have seen the crack in her tower of ice.

“You knew?”

That’s all she could manage and she felt ridiculous, knowing she was normally well-spoken and articulate, though one might have noted it was only when the situation pertained to matters impersonal, relative to herself. Her mouth felt dry and her gaze wandered briefly away from Anna’s eyes, to the crown of dampness forming at her temples from the heat that now enveloped them both, inside out. As much as Elsa appreciated the crisp, unforgiving sharpness of cold winter air, she knew Anna was likely very happy to be sweating indoors instead.

“I didn’t say anything because I knew being the big gay lesbian you are, you needed some time to process and a safe space to say your piece… but do you really think I begged you to drive 8 hours north into the sticks just so we could talk?”

Elsa’s mind went into overdrive as she tried to comprehend what Anna was saying. It seemed as though her brain was yet again trying to overanalyze, overthink what she was being told.

“What do you mean?”

She tensed up a little as she heard Anna’s exasperated sigh. Any doubts she had previously held however, were dissipated the moment she felt a thumb trace the curve of her lower lip, followed by a soft, delicate mouth pressing against hers in its wake.

Oh.

Her heart was now beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. The kiss electrified her body, lighting it up with a fire she’d never quite felt before and the sparks lingered on her lips. Even if her head had been clear and focused in the moment, she wouldn’t have been able to recall any previous incidence of the single act of kissing, sending heat and lightning in the pit of her lower belly. She’d had chemistry, good chemistry with other people even but nothing like this. There was no way the Bailey’s alone could be blamed for it and that thought both enthralled and terrified her. The hand she’d kept at Anna’s waist slid up the sweater, under her shirt, finding the velvety dew of her skin pleasant to her fingertips. How long had it been since she’d first realized she craved and longed to touch her sister in this way? How long had it been since fear had guided and controlled her every movement, shackling her most human needs and impulses to touch, to hug, to nuzzle the person she held dearest in this world? How long had it been since the guilt began to gnaw at her? How long had it been now since the constant mental self-flagellation, driven by self-loathing had overtaken her identity and so twisted and tainted her self-perception? How long had it been since she’d completely choked out any trace of spontaneity within her, for fear it might one day betray the repulsive, repugnant truth she’d come to believe represented her? How long had she allowed it to take over her life until it tainted every one of her interactions? Too long. Far too long. She didn’t know that the damage would ever be undone. But, here under the cast of the fire’s warm glow, for the first time in forever, her mind flirted with the idea of self-forgiveness.

For the first time in forever, she could allow herself to be free.

On some level it hadn’t fully sunk in yet, and even as she finally allowed this sort of contact, the habit of caution kept her gestures on a tight, controlled reign, not quite ready yet to forget herself. Fear and guilt were, after all, powerful enemies, bridling her every impulse even now as sharp sparks jolted through her nervous system, crackling from her lips combined to Anna’s.

It was a fortunate thing that Anna knew what she wanted though, and was determined to get it. Unbeknownst to Elsa, she too had been sitting on this obsessive craving for a fruit so forbidden she had to plan an entire holiday to finally get a taste. Elsa’s breath was shallow as she watched her lean back to tug her sweater off, discarding it to the floor hurriedly. Her nipples were visible under the fabric of her tank top and Elsa thought she might choke as she noticed them. Desire gnawed at the chains of self control. Sanity was packing its bags, ready to vacate the premises when she felt fingernails lightly scratching at her jaw line, flirting with the tender skin of her throat. Fear and guilt were beginning to lose their grip, inch by inch and by the time Anna was brushing up her thigh against Elsa’s side, they were out of sight and out of mind.

Finally, Elsa left the safe harbour of her mouth, lips kissing up the line of her jaw to her earlobe where she gently nipped, down the curve of her neck - all to the delight of Anna, who’s gentle mewling sent heated flames of need licking at the core of Elsa’s lower belly. Her timidity almost completely vanished, she pushed Anna back down on the couch, shifting so that she was now laying on top of her, and she lapped her tongue softly at the base of her throat. She felt Anna’s body arch beneath her and where the alcohol might have left them fairly tipsy, she was now tasting what it felt like to be drunk on power.

Unfortunately, the couch was fairly narrow and their hips bumped uncomfortably. She even tried to set a foot down on the floor to steady herself as she captured Anna’s lips and ran a hand ravenously along her side, but she quickly realized that the position would only lead to cramping and disappointment.

She looked around, one hand subconsciously pressing down on Anna’s sternum as if to ensure she would not go anywhere (as if Anna had any desire whatsoever to be anywhere else in the world at that precise moment). Her eyes lingered briefly on the fire and the lush reindeer skin rug by it, considering her options briefly. She smirked to herself but decided that they would have more opportunities and occasions for her to claim Anna by the fire.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just- what do you say we take this to the bedroom?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

✧✧✧

They’d had thrown as many more logs as they could possibly fit into the fire place, knowing the chances of either of them getting up in the night to keep it going were slim to inexistent. They’d paused only briefly once more to taste each other, touch each other in ways they’d, prior to that moment, barely dared think of, shamefully hidden in the darkest hours of the night. Hurriedly, they’d ran up the stairs, Anna having playfully lured Elsa into giving chase up to the master room, their clothes discarded erratically along the way, as they paused only to catch one another, fumbling with clasps and zippers, struggling with waistbands, insatiable in their kissing.

Inhibitions had retained a thin veil only long enough for her to notice the glorious, star-gazing window right in perfect view of the bed. Anna had been right about her liking the master bedroom. She did not linger on the thought however, her eyes drawn back to Anna’s features illuminated by the beams of moonlight flooding through the windows, an ethereal halo now wrapping around her features, lending her another worldly beauty. Overwhelmed and overthrown, it was like seeing her for the first time, again and she thought her heart might burst open with Anna pulling her down on top of her, the warmth of her skin immediately radiating towards Elsa.

She found herself hungrily kissing Anna, gaining in confidence with each passing second as she nipped and suckled softly at her lower lip. She smiled against her as she heard the little squeal of surprise this produced. Nails scratched over the nape of her neck, digging into her shoulders, and her sister’s smooth, bare thigh locked around her hip pressing her down against her pelvic bone, which elicited a gasp from the both of them. Elsa slid her tongue just past Anna’s lips whom promptly suckled it in, causing her to moan, and her body subconsciously rocked against hers.

Her hand slid down the side of Anna’s body, the tremor in her fingertips belying the nervous eagerness crackling hotly in every single one of her cells. The sensation of Anna’s warm, dewy skin against her own set her nerves alight with fire and she had to pull away from the kiss momentarily to check whether she were actually still breathing.

Another jolt of arousal shot down from her spine to her loins as Anna looked up at her, skin flushed and feverish, eyes come hither as she felt her hand coming up to tease one of her breasts. Elsa’s body tensed and her breath hitched, realizing just how strained her nipples had gotten, and how sensitive they were as a result. Her lips fell open as her younger sister teased it, sending sparks of pleasure radiating throughout her body, especially between her thighs. She shifted again slightly, her hip and upper thigh now pressing firmly against Anna’s radiating core. The heated dampness she felt against her skin was enough to cause a rush of wetness between Elsa’s own legs and she reached down again, her mouth seeking Anna’s neck. She kissed her at first gently, then intermingled with nips until she couldn’t resist the temptation anymore, following the thrumming of her pulse against her lips, and began to suckle at the skin, growling as she left her mark. It was something a little possessive, a little territorial, and on a primal level Elsa liked the thought of having visibly claimed what she deemed to be hers and if the way Anna mewled and gasped were any indication it seem she enjoyed it too. Given the nature of their relationship, they had to take full advantage now then, before any trace of it lingered and remained visible upon returning to their lives back in Ottawa.

Anna arched her body beneath her, causing friction in between their legs, as she began to subconsciously rock up against her. The hand she had been using to tease her nipple cupped the breast more fully, squeezing and massaging ever so gently. Elsa let out a little growl in response to this, and left a trail of love bites on her way down to a pert, rosy breast. She ghosted feathery kisses around the taut nipple, enjoying the feel of the divinely soft skin against her lips, spurred on by the sweet little mewls her younger sister echoed in answer.

By now, Elsa was humping softly against Anna’s thigh, feeling a blush creep up her neck at the realization of her own arousal. It was further compounded by the feeling of Anna’s wetness against her own thigh, as well as the nails now scratching up her shoulders, leaving scarlet trails on the nape of her neck. She hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure flexing her thigh and rolling her hips a little more firmly. It was enough to coax her into giving a flick of her tongue over Anna’s nipple who inhaled sharply, and tangled her dainty fingers into the base of Elsa’s messy, platinum braid. Encouraged by this, she glanced up past the trail of darkly, well defined love bites she’d left, to find Anna’s head tossed invitingly to the side, eyes tightly shut in pleasure. It was enough to convince her to capture the aching nipple between her lips giving it an experimental suck.

Again, she shuddered and rolled her hips as she felt Anna arch her back up against her, and grip in her hair tightening further, which in turn provided a swell of confidence for her. Her lower belly clenched and she suckled a little harder, moaning as she felt the hard peak against the flat of her tongue. Hunger raged and she pressed more fully into any in every way she possibly could. Fire coursed through her when Anna briefly glanced back at her, eyes feverish and glassy, dark with desire, panting with her lips parted as she whispered her name.

“Elsa…”

Fuck - how was she so gloriously, ravishingly beautiful? How was this woman here with her, like this, offering the toned, perfect lines and curves of her body and the exquisitely harmonious features of her face? Elsa feasted her eyes, her senses, her fingertips, her skin, her touch. Her ears, her taste and even right down to her scent, as if she were afraid any moment now, this might all slip away. As if, she were afraid Anna would realize her mistake, realize that Elsa weren’t deserving of her. And in turn, it pushed her to be a more attentive, devoted partner in the discovery and exploration of her body, with the sole, fixed goal of bringing Anna to heights yet undiscovered.

Her hand reached down to caress the curve of Anna’s ass, squeezing and massaging it for a moment before lightly scratching up her hip, her waist, the side of her rib cage, then trailing along her arm, seeking out her hand. She laced her fingers into her sister’s gently, yet firmly pinning back down against the mattress, as her mouth switched from suckling, to worrying the nipple between her teeth. Anna’s breathing turned ragged as the hand still entangled in Elsa’s hair gripped tighter, nails digging into her scalp, and her heated, dripping pussy now humped up desperately against Elsa’s tensed, flexed thigh.

“More,” Anna whimpered desperately, which promptly caused Elsa’s free hand to find her other breast, fingers rolling the nipple between them. She felt her buck, which gave a pleasantly firm rub against her own, swollen, eager sex and her thigh twitched involuntarily, and squeezed Anna’s hand even as she kept it pinned against the bed.

They were close, she could feel it as much in Anna’s body as in her own. The buildup was coming to a head, and she gave one last heated lick before kissing and nipping her way back up the trail of love bites, up her throat, to the curve of her neck, to her earlobe which she kissed almost reverently, before nipping as she whispered in a husky, breathless voice. “I love you Anna.”

This seemed to do it for Anna, whom she could feel now desperately humping her leg, likely guided by reflex and instinct more than intent. She moaned loudly and turned her head seeking Elsa’s mouth blindly, wanting to feel all of her, give herself to her entirely, as her orgasm set her whole body alight, like fire raging through her blood, heat blooming from her belly and pooling wetly against her older sister’s skin.

With their breasts now pressed together, nipples brushing against nipples, digging into skin, and the intoxicating sensation of the power she’d just had over Anna, Elsa finally lost the battle with her self-restraint, her inhibitions discarded with no regard for dignity. She squeezed Anna’s thigh between her own, her belly painfully taut as she built up to her own perfect storm. It was her turn to moan in pleasure as Anna whimpered and mewled through her after shocks, looking up at her in earnest adoration.

“I love you too, Elsa so much.”

Light and heat blinded her for a moment as her body went still, her climax thrashing through her with an intensity she never guessed possible. Her heart raced and her pulse deafened her before she finally dropped her face into the nook of Anna’s neck, kissing it tenderly through ragged breaths.

The hand previously at Anna’s breast reached up to stroke her ember-coloured hair tenderly, smiling as she heard her giggle. As she recovered slowly, body still lightly trembling, she finally lifted her head up to share tender, lingering kisses, basking in their afterglow. She could’ve sworn she heard her younger sister purring but perhaps the stars in her head hadn’t cleared yet. Anna’s lips briefly left hers to kiss the corner of her mouth, up to her ear, whispering:

“I can’t wait for you to taste me.”

A surge of heat, and suddenly Elsa knew there was beauty in warmth too.

#elsanna #submission #december 2020 contest #prompt: warmth #lemon #cw: alcohol #cw: alcohol consumption

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years ago

Note

I have a question for you! As it is the lovely Mammoney's birthday coming up, what would your MC give the boys for their birthday?

This actually became a lot longer than I expected because I couldn't help writing minifics whoops and ahh asks about my MC make me happy cause I rarely get to talk about them specifically

Note; despite the typical idea you'd get from their name Eliza is neither white or western or a girl. All the relationships except the one with Mammon are just platonic✌ lemme know what you think cause feedback (either good or bad) is my only fuel

Lucifer

Lucifer gets a #1 MOM mug but also the day after his bday he gets Eliza asking Diavolo if he could let Lucifer off work for the day and dragging the rest of the brothers out of the house while making Lucifer promise he'll take a nap.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Well I mean...yeah? Not - not in a," they wiggled their fingers in front of them "pacty way. Just in a concerned friend way."

"And if I don't?"

"Well Diavolo went through all the trouble of taking on your work load... He'd be terribly disappointed if nothing came of it."

Lucifer had to stamp down the twitch of fond amusement that threatened to show on his face, "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"No, I am manipulating you. Because it's working."

He gave them a dubious look.

"It is working. Right?"

With a sigh he said, "It's working."

"Great!" They pressed forward to give him a tight brief hug whispering "Happy Birthday Lucifer" before they were moving away, running off to presumably gather his brothers. "Remember," Eliza yelled over their shoulder, "Sleep!"

Mammon

The day of Mammon's birthday he gets a scavenger hunt. He grumbles at first but the lure of the prize at each location has him solving the riddles in seconds. Eliza trots after him to each location. The gifts, though there are a lot of them aren't anything big or overly expensive, a keychain with a little crow at the end of it, a bright gold cover for his D.D.D., A tote bag just so he could put the rest of his gift in it, that one choker/collar he had been eyeing a few days ago, a few of the old Disney princess movies because he got really into Cinderella, a warm scarf and set of mittens for the colder months because they know he prefers the warmth, a new pair of sunglasses, a new pair of earrings/studs, nail polish. But it's the little notes attached to them that's killing him.

"It's cute like you!" "Ik your eyes aren't gold but I always think of shining gold when I think of them. Maybe because they are so precious?" "I love you" "I saw you staring at it. You probably thought you'd look hot in it. You're right." "Did you know meeting you made me believe in happily ever afters?" "This one's pretty selfish because seeing you happy and comfortable makes me happy" "This one's a joint gift. I'll need to borrow them because you light up the room" "You deserve the best things because you're the best" "Have I told you I love you" "Stop solving these riddles so fast! I spent a lot of time trying to find the hard ones and now you're making me look dumb! Plus my legs are hurting."

The words of the last note blurred a bit as he tried to discreetly sniff. He'd been holding back tears since the second note, not that he'd ever let the human know (they knew). He wasn't sure why this was the one that broke him.

"Mammon?"

He turns to Eliza slowly. Making sure he doesn't crush the note.

They're panting slightly, from having to run up and down the whole house after him, but they smile brightly when he meets their eyes. "Seriously man, slow down for us weaker beings yeah?"

Then Mammon does something he rarely does. He makes the first move. He shoots forward to envelope them in a hug. They yelp at the sudden movement but immediately fold their arms around him.

They're almost the same height, something Eliza loves to hold over him, so it's easy for them to shift back and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you."

That just makes him sniff harder and burrow further into their shoulder, "Said that twice already," he mumbles between hiccuping little sobs.

"Dunno what to tell you, Mammon but I love you a whole lot. Just once won't work"

"... l - love ya too dummy..."

"There's one more riddle."

The last one simply says "Happy Birthday, Mammon."

"What's the gift?" He asks, looking around his room where the last riddle had led them.

The click of the lock and the wicked look on their face says it all.

*If you think the notes were cheesy Eliza absolutely cringed while writing them and had to take breaks to go scream in their pillow because of how sappy they were, but Mammon liked this kind of cheesy and it doesn't mean they weren't 100% sincere.*

Levi

For Levi they hunt down Simeon, trailing after him begging, negotiating and making deals.

"I-is this - this isn't - h-how - there isn't any - ELIZAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He launches himself at them, still holding the little book. "I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ELIZA! I - " He pauses, seeming to finally register his words and jumping away, hand flying to cover his flaming face "I! That doesn't mean! I didn't mean it like -"

"Love you too," they say easily.

And that has Levi blushing even more and trying to hide his face while mumbling something about 'normies'.

"Do you like it?"

"LIKE IT!? How'd you get it! This! This isn't even supposed to exist!"

"Ah I spoke to Simeon, he wrote it just for your birthday. They're only a collection of short stories though."

"FOR MY BIRTHDAY!? A LIMITED EDITION!? NO! NOT EVEN A LIMITED EDITION, AN IMPOSSIBLE ONE THAT SHOULDN'T EVEN EXIST!"

"...happy birthday Levi?"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"Love you too."

Satan

For Satan Eliza follows both Diavolo and Lucifer around, once again begging, pleading and bargaining. Diavolo agrees pretty quickly, it's Lucifer they take a week to convince

"Where are we going exactly?"

"You'll see."

"And how exactly did you manage to convince them to let us into the human world?"

"Uhm.."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

He chuckles softly, gently bumping them with his elbow he asks, "At least tell me where we are."

"Well this is where my mother was from. She was the one who was Lilith's descendant."

"It's not the same as where you lived?"

Eliza flushes at his use of the past tense. "Nope. It's funny though... "

"What is?"

"The first people who lived, the natives, the name of their clan translated to 'Demon'. They even had a Demon King. Ah, not sure how much of that is actual history and how much has been twisted through time but. It's an odd little coincidence don't you think?"

"Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre..."

"Don't quote your detective at me."

Satan laughs. "What happened to them? In your history?"

"Well it's a bit of a long story, it's not exactly a fair one either."

"History so rarely is. It's always told through the mouths of the survivors, the winners, it rarely gets a chance to be fair, to be anything more than fiction peppered with fact." His eyes are fixed firmly on the sky.

Eliza looks up with him, staring at the cloudless blue sky.

He shakes himself out of it with a chuckle, "That doesn't mean I'm not interested in hearing it. Quite the opposite actually." He smiles sweetly at them.

Eliza grins back. "I actually managed to get us a few days here. There are lots of ruins all around the country, they're not from that original clan but they're still really old and kind of amazing. We won't be able to visit all of them but it's still something."

"It is. Thank you, Eliza. It means a lot that I'd be able to learn something new and that you're sharing this with me."

Still grinning they hug him gently.

He wraps his arms around them

"Is this the part where you wish me?"

"It is. Happy Birthday, Satan."

*Anyway this is part of our actual history and even though I haven't really decided where Eliza is from this felt fitting? The detective quote is taken straight from Sherlock Holmes*

Asmo

"Elizaaa~ This is so sweet! Ahh, I love it! I love you!!"

Eliza couldn't help the soft laugh as Asmo clung on to them, rubbing their cheeks together and enveloping them in the sweet scent of his perfume.

"How did you know I needed this?"

"Well, living with six brothers anyone would need a weekend spa retreat away from them."

"You're right, Eliza! You're so right! They're the worst and it's even started to affect my skin! I needed some me time."

"Well... It's actually a coupon for two..."

Asmo blinked at them looking down at it and yes it was a coupon for two.

"You know, just in case you wanna..." they did a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle that had him giggling.

"Well then, Dear. How about a weekend spa treatment with me? Hmm?"

Eliza blushed, stumbling back and stuttering, "That's not - I - you know - I'm just - I - "

He watches them stutter, with an amused smile before he mercifully cuts in "I know you're set on that idiot brother of mine. Lord knows why, he's such a mess and I'm much prettier. You know I love you Eliza but you really do have terrible taste."

At their scowl he giggles, "But you love him, and you look out for him and you make him happy and he does all that for you too. And, well that's all that matters, isn't it?"

They're a bit red again, but they're smiling at him softly and looking at him with such love in their eyes, it makes a gentle sort of warmth spread through him.

"No, what I meant was not everyone in my family has been driving me crazy recently and you look like you could use a weekend off too. I can tell you embarrassing stories about Mammon from back in the Celestial Realm, if that sweetens the deal? Unless," now that he thought about it, "that makes you uncomfortable!? Ah! Eliza, I'm so sorry I didn't even think! I know you don't like this kind of thing, that's okay I'll ask So-"

"No, wait Asmo it's fine. I don't mind it, if it's with you."

Asmo blinked. The warmth spread. Then he flung himself at them again, "Elizaaaaa, don't say things like that and expect me not to react!"

They laughed, easily catching him in their arms, "Happy Birthday, Asmo."

Beel & Belphie

With Beel & Belphie Eliza leads them into the attic and locks the door behind them.

"Are you going to kill us here?"

"Haha. Funny."

Belphie laughed lightly, and Eliza could almost hear Beel's frown as commonplace as it was when the topic was brought up. Not wanting to keep Beel in any type of discomfort they reached out with that flicker of magic in them and a muttered spell and lit the fairy light like little lamps that hung across the room.

"You're getting better at that." Belphie said, eyes on them and looking impressed.

Beel hummed and agreed, looking proud.

"I know." Their chest puffed out a bit and the twins laughed.

Letting the moment fade they swept their hands, gesturing at the rest of the room. "So what do you think?"

The furniture had all been moved to the sides, the blankets and pillows from the room along with many, many additional ones were all piled strategically on the floor, making a large nest like structure. The outer structure of the nest was lined with various boxes and packets of different kinds of snacks and drinks. On the wooden floor in front of the nest was a large cake decorated in warm oranges and cool purples.

"I made it!" They said, proudly before deflating a second later "Well Luke made it, he wanted to do something nice for Beel's birthday but I stood around and licked the raw batter so that counts?... There's also a handheld vacuum for crumbs." They gestured at the side.

"It looks good," Beel said with a nod. "Smells good. I'm hungry."

Belphie tilted his head, "So your present for us is our sins?"

Eliza bristled, "No. That's just the setting, next is the accessories."

"Accessories?" Beel asked softly, still eyeing the cake, only held back by the firm grip that both Eliza and Belphie had on his hands.

"Accessories." Eliza moved away to a corner, returning while juggling two wrapped gift.

"It's that manga of Levi's that you like, it's the full published series so you don't need to keep borrowing it." Turning to Beel, "pyjamas. Large oversized thick and comfy pyjamas. I washed them too so that they would smell nice and wouldn't be scratchy. So this is your present: A sleepover, cuddled together under the blankets, in large comfortable clothes, eating junk food and reading manga where none of your brothers can interrupt." Eliza stopped for a breath, their proud smile dimming a bit, "I guess your presents are your sins..."

"No. They're not." Beel said firmly. Hands already unbuckling his pants and sliding them down. He changed his clothes quickly with no care for either of his audience who, to his credit, failed to react. He folded the old ones and placed them in a corner while Belphie removed his boots.

"They're not," Beel said again looking straight at Eliza, "They're quality time doing things we love with the people we love, without having to worry about anything else." He walks up to them, enfolding them in a warm, soft hug. "Thank you, Eliza."

"Right, right. Our sins are part of it because those are things we enjoy. But they're not the actual gift. Like you said it's the settings and accessories that make the actual gift. And that's spending time together without any of those idiots interrupting us for once."

"It's a good gift." Beel said, as Belphie slid into the hug. Beel lifted them both off their feet as they clung to him.

"Happy Birthday guys," Eliza said through their laughter.

"Love you," they both said in unison.

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lariskapargitay · 4 years ago

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Brienne of Tarth is Lightbringer

Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon.

All three are grey heroes in the series, one of which is the most popular character in the book and especially the show. All three are legendary figures from their respected Houses- the one true king who should have been Lord of Stormsend, the secret prince born of ice and fire, and then there is the Mother of Dragons, Mysha, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and the last (so far as we know) Dragon.

All three have been, supposedly, chosen by the Lord of Light, and all three are the leading choices for Azor Ahai with their individual weapons (dragons, a valyrian steel sword and a burning sword) acting as the legendary weapon Lightbringer.

It makes sense; the great leaders who’ve been prophesied to end the long night. One even has DRAGONS, it would be absolute folly to imagine anyone else’s from three big huge players, one of whom the series is named for whose story is so heavily linked to the Others, to act as Azor Ahai or the weapon prophesied to end the Long Night; Lightbringer.

This post isn’t to dissuade those three or others from being AA or LB, but rather to put forth a new candidate to act as the legendary metaphorical ‘sword’. Someone who was a supporting player for the second and third books, ignored in the show, and for some reason people consider boring when she finally gets a chance to shine in her own POV.

Brienne of Tarth.

The ugly girl who wants to be a knight, a noblewoman whose house isn’t a great one, who has blood ties to both the Targaryen and Baratheon dynasty and who were kings and queens in their own right once upon a time. Not much is known about House Tarth apart from their sigil, rose and azure quartered with yellow suns and white crescent moons, the name of their keep Evenfall. Their descendants were not always called ‘Tarth’ though, their family name was once ‘Evenstar’, which has been passed down to be the official title of the Lord of Tarth.

Their House seems to have a fond appreciation for the sky and all that comes from it, including naming the small little island off Tarth ‘Morne’ to stand for morning, with only House Dayne as a challenger in regards to their love and admiration for the celestial. All that to say; House Tarth values light, in all its natural forms. The sun, the moon, the stars, the morning dawn… Their sigil and title literally brings light *looks directly at the camera like I’m in the office*, and it is one of only sigils where no matter what; it cannot be killed. No matter if the Dead or Living wins the war, the sun and moon and the evenstar will rise day after day until the end of eternity. Dragons and krakens and crows and stags and direwolves and lions can be killed, but the lights in the sky can never be.

The title of Evenstar itself also has connections to Lightbringer. Lucifer means ‘Lightbringer’ and it is the Latin name for the planet Venus. Venus used to be called ‘Evenstar’, and Evenstar is, as covered above, the title of the Lord of Tarth. With Faegon attacking Tarth, it is safe to presume that Selwyn, her father, is dead and Brienne is now the Lady of Tarth making HER the Evenstar which literally, not metaphorically, makes her, Lightbringer (which is something no other contender can claim.)

Another language fact is Tarth means smoke or fog in the Welsh language. “Born amidst salt and smoke,” is a large part of the prophecy of AA & LB and Brienne, being born on an island that means smoke in the middle of a salt sea…

ACOK Davos I

“To oppose it, the hero must have a hero's blade, oh, like none that had ever been.”

AFFC Brienne I

>When she was small, her nurse filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not.

Brienne often thinks of Oathkeeper as a ‘magic sword’, and here she not only calls it a heroes sword, but she is humble enough not to consider herself amongst them. The sword is worthy of being a part of something great but not Brienne herself. And right after she refuses to call herself a hero, she kneels, blade in hand, and says a prayer to the Crone whose known to bring light *once again looks at the camera like I’m in the office* to help guide people who would ask for it.

>**AFFC Brienne I**

>Kneeling between the bed and wall, she held the blade and said a silent prayer to the Crone, whose golden lamp showed men the way through life. Lead me, she prayed, **LIGHT THE WAY BEFORE ME**, show me the path that leads to Sansa.

Now, onto a huge moment for Brienne, where a large bulk of this theory comes from. The dream Jaime has, the prophetic Weirwood dream where most of his prophecies have come true.

>**ACOK Davos I**

>“In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword.

>**ASOS Jaime VI**

>Brienne’s sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue. The darkness retreated a little more.

>Brienne moved her longsword back and forth, watching the silvery flames shift and shimmer.

>Then his sword went dark, and only Brienne’s burned, as the ghosts came rushing in.

Lightbringer is, in its most basic form, a burning sword. Brienne, Stannis, Thoros, Beric, Jon and Jaime are the only ones to use a burning sword. Stannis sword is proven to be a fake, Thoros uses tricks to get his sword to light on fire, and Beric had a legitimate magical burning sword but he gave up his life for Lady Stoneheart. That leaves Jon in his dream then Jaime and Brienne in Jaime’s dream.

Again, this essay is not to dissuade the other candidates, but I personally do not believe that GRRM is the type of writer to let the secret dragon prince, the just leader, the Aragorn of Westeros get the big prophecy fight in the end. Aragorn wasn’t the one to destroy the ring, it was the unsuspecting big footed hobbit who saved the day. In any case Brienne DOES carry a flaming sword she uses to fight the dead, and she is the ONLY LIGHT left in Jaime’s world and the world itself. And yes, Jon does carry a red flaming sword in his dream whereas Brienne carries a silvery blue flaming sword in Jaime’s dream, but Oathkeeper, her sword, is red and black. It’s spell forged, it’s magic, **IT COMES ALIVE IN THE SIGHT OF FIRE**.

>**ACOK Davos I**

>And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.”

>**AFFC Brienne VIII**

>In the light from the firepit the red and black ripples in the blade almost seemed to move.

Let’s move on to another significant moment in Jaime’s dream is when a naked beautiful Brienne touches him.

>**ADWD Jon III**

>Therefore after Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm.

>**ASOS Jaime VI**

>She put a hand on his shoulder and he shuddered at the sudden touch. She’s warm.

Brienne is warm in his dream just as Lightbringer the sword is warm, she carries a flaming sword, she brings light, she’s the only light in the world… The dream can be interpreted in a few ways, mostly done to either prove or disprove an eventual romance between Jaime and Brienne, (I 10000% proves it does along with all the other evidence but that’s another 2000 word essay for another time.) But I believes it also offered a substantial amount of proof to my theory that Brienne is in fact Lightbringer. Melisandre even says the Lord of Light created the sun and moon and stars to assist them in ‘keeping the night at bay.’ .

>**ADWD Jon III**

>The Lord of Light made the sun and moon and stars to light our way, and gave us fire to keep the night at bay.”

Once again; let me bring back the Tarth fascination with the celestial

>**AFFC Brienne II**

>The arms of Tarth were quartered rose and azure, and bore a yellow sun and crescent moon.

>**ASOS Jaime IV**

>“I am Brienne of Tarth, daughter to Lord Selwyn the Evenstar, and sworn to House Stark even as you are.”

Brienne is the sun and moon, she is the brightest star in the sky. Yes there was a magic comet that fell for the birth of dragons but it lasted only for a while then died off. The Evenstar will always stay in the sky, as well as the sun and moon. They will always bring light.

Now, branching off into LOTR territory for a moment, Brienne is given the exact same introduction as Eowyn was when she killed the Witch-King, as ‘no man’ could kill him

>**The Return of the King, book 5, ch. 6 "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields"**

>“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund’s daughter!”

>**ACOK Catelyn II**

>“He is no man, My Lady. That’s Brienne of Tarth, daughter to Lord Selwyn the Evenstar.”

Don’t you think there’s just the tiniest bit of coincidence that GRRM introduces Brienne using a VERY similar quote to another blonde shieldmaiden who is confused for a man right before she helps destroy the leader of a great and terrible undead army and helps save the day?

Now, all this isn’t to say she’s an absolute shoe in for Lightbringer. That’s not to say it won’t be the obvious choice and Jon and Dany or Stannis save the day and they get to rule Westeros for 100 years and they get to be the ones who tell the Hobbits they bow to no man. But what I am saying is Brienne is just as much in the running to be Lightbringer as them. And just how bards can slay dragons, and Hobbits can destroy rings; an ugly girl who wants to be a knight can most definitely be a Lightbringer.

#asoiaf #brienne of tarth #asoiaf theories #asoiaf thoughts #lightbringer #brienne the beauty #azor ahai #game of thrones #game of thrones theory

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coffeesuperhero · 4 years ago

Note

(Friend, here's a fic meme for you!) Ask meme time! Pick three fics you have written, post a favorite section of each and explain why it is your favorite. Then, pass it on! :D

Ah, thank you so much, my friend!! Putting this under a read more since it’s probably gonna get kinda long :D

01. two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl (the anatomy of apocalypse. remix).

A blast from the past for this one but it’s been Big Mood for me lately, so. This is a West Wing story, and a remix of a post-apoca Sam/CJ piece that I absolutely adore by furies.

When it is her time to sleep, he sits on the burnt ground and watches the cavernous expanse of thick ashen clouds that conceals the stars that travelers once used to light their way home. Even the illuminating glow of Polaris cannot pierce these clouds, but it is of no consequence: there is little use for celestial navigation when they have no terrestrial destination.

In a perpetual waking nightmare they trudge on through the wasteland of the world, communicating mostly through gestures, if at all. There is little to say that isn't as empty as they are, and as words begin to lose their meaning he tries, desperately, to hold onto language, the last best vestige of his humanity. When he can no longer summon the will to create sentences, he murmurs hollow words, any words he can recall, under invisible stars that died millions of years before he did. Stars are really only dead husks of gas and flame that look alive unless you know better, unless you know that what you're seeing is a lie that is older than the world.

When he looks at her he sees the stars. When he looks for the stars he sees nothing.

Somewhere above the smoke and ash and sulfuric acid aerosol there are still stars, and among them is Galileo. Centuries ago Galileo Galilei looked up at the stars, and for performing that miracle they told him that he was a sinner. Now he wanders a celestial battlefield littered with dead and dying heavenly bodies, exiled for eternity to the vast cold vacuum of space.

Galileo. He said it right, once. Now he says nothing.

The original story is all from CJ’s perspective so my remix is from Sam’s, which was an excuse to lean into language and the importance of it, how much Sam tries to cling to his own humanity after the world ends by turning it into story, or, when there is a lack of a cohesive narrative for his life any longer, into any words he can still find. It’s about two people who are falling apart. It’s bleak. There is not a lot of hope in it. It’s just two people slowly unraveling but determined to live anyway, which maybe is something I connect pretty strongly to at this moment in time!!!! This story also contains the line, “if wishes were horses, they would all have pale riders,” which I’m not gonna lie is one of my favorite lines I have ever written and i stopped trying to top it years ago because probably I will not.

02. you do not have to be good.

He cracks a shit ton of eggs into a flour well and wonders if Parker and Hardison are aware that where he comes from, feeding someone is sort of a silent I love you. He frowns at the eggs. Thinks about Hardison buying this place. Thinks about Parker not really seeing anything special about food until recently. Hardison knows, probably, that he feeds people because he loves them. Parker almost certainly doesn't.

He thinks of how he might explain that to her, and it gets complicated pretty quick, because the truth is that where he's from, food can also sort of be a silent fuck you, considering the number of times he's been to a potluck where something like ten different little old ladies brought the same recipe, each secretly thinking theirs was better than you-know-who's. He can still hear the whispered accusations, all these years later. I just saw Flora come through the front door with her casserole dish. You know she puts carrots in that, don't you? Yes, you heard me right. Carrots.

He laughs a little at that. Maybe not everything from home was bad, even if it does seem to have left him with enough baggage to fill a damn shipping container. He hadn't really realized how much he'd been resenting that lately until now, but as he carefully mixes eggs and flour together with a fork, he feels a little of that hurt slipping away. As far as he's concerned, whatever he grew up with, all this internalized whatever, was sort of like a potluck: you go down the line and fill your plate and sometimes you take shit you don't want because it makes other people happy, but in the end you eat what you like, and then later when Miss Flora isn't looking you dump the rest of the shit on your plate in the trash because goddamn, her corn casserole is the worst one you've ever tasted. Who puts carrots in that? The devil, probably.

By the time the eggs and the flour are a big ball of dough underneath his hands, he's chuckling to himself, and he honestly feels a whole lot better about everything. The knot of anxious tension that's been sitting in the pit of his stomach since he and Hardison had that talk is gone. Whoever he is, whatever he is, it'll come together. He just picked up a lot of shit that wasn't his, that's all, but it's not who he is, and he doesn't have to keep it. It's just a potluck. It's shitty corn casserole. It's okay. He can toss it out and make a better one.

I dumped a lot (A LOT) of my other Southern/Heartland queer feelings into this brace of Eliot-centric stories for Leverage fandom earlier this year, and this is maybe one of the most Me parts of the whole thing, because I’ve given myself the Potluck Talk on and off for at least twenty years now. The attitudes about food and potlucks and the battles between potluck cooks described here are also 100% pulled from my real life, and that’s why this is my favorite. This is just me, working through my shit while cooking, only it’s Eliot, too. We love a convenient excuse to tell our own stories and work through our own shit with fanfiction, right?

03. visible cities

This is an old The Phantom Tollbooth piece that I wrote for Yuletide several years ago, and since Yuletide signups are opening and I’m feeling nostalgic, here’s the opening bit from this piece:

Many long years have passed since Milo's journey through the kingdom of Wisdom. He is older now, which is to be expected: hardly anyone grows younger in the course of many long years, though the lessons he learned as a boy have kept his heart lighter than most.

The way into other worlds had been easy enough to find, once he knew where to look, and oh, the things he has seen.

Still, as exciting as his life has been, he thinks of his friends from Wisdom often, especially Tock, especially lately, for he never seems to have enough time. There's always something to see, something to do. There are mountains to climb and oceans to swim, and he's been climbing and swimming for so long now that he has quite forgotten what it is to do something that is entirely for himself.

"I'm as tired as can be," he murmurs, a wistful smile on his face as he strolls home, careful as ever to take in all of the sights along the way, for no matter how many times he walks this path, he always finds something new to delight him.

When he arrives at home, there is a box waiting for him, the packaging the same wonderful blue that he remembers from his childhood, and he smiles so brightly that an unhappy gentleman passing by the window at that exact moment suddenly remembers all of the kind things anyone had ever done for him and immediately hurries home to hug his children.

I just love this book so much, it was very much a Formative Book for me, and when I got this Yuletide assignment I did my best to write sort of a love letter to other media through the vehicle of this story. This passage in particular I like because I like the thought of Milo as an older man, still carrying the lessons he learned so long ago with him now. And I really liked the guy outside running home to hug his kids. It felt Very like the book to me, the book is full of those kinds of things and it’s one of the reasons I love it, this way that Milo is connected to other people even when he doesn’t know them, because...we are, and it’s a small detail, but it’s why I like this bit of the story.

#ask meme #correspondence #norationalthoughtrequired #my fic #fic

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Listed: Horse Lords

Baltimore-based Horse Lords have been forging their own take on experimental rock music since 2012. The quartet, Andrew Bernstein (saxophone/percussion), Max Eilbacher (bass/electronics), Owen Gardner (guitar) and Sam Haberman (drums) weave together pieces drawing on divergent sources that include everything from 20th and 21st century classical music to just intonation tuning to African and Appalachian musical traditions to intricate polyrhythms and studio experiments. In a recent interview, Gardner talked about their approach to putting pieces together. “We generally write right up to the edge of our abilities. And sometimes slightly beyond. We’d had to scrap quite a few songs because they proved to be basically impossible to play... It keeps it interesting.” Ian Forsythe covered their newest release, The Common Task, noting that “Their nearly ten-year core pivots rhythmic and tonal ideas athletically, and their ability to pull elements from anywhere and everywhere is seemingly more fluid with each record.”

For this Listed, the four members runs down a list of live shows, recordings, blogs, movies, and books that have been on their minds.

Gleb Kanasevich plays Horațiu Rădulescu’s “Inner Time II for seven clarinets (Op.42b),” Baltimore. 2018 (Owen Gardner)

youtube

A near-hourlong ear workout, combining impressive sonic and structural brutality. The interaction of what these close dissonances do inside your ears with what the clarinets do in space (Gleb played live with 6 recordings of himself, meticulously arranged around the audience) is a haunting experience, celestial but with no concession to human music.

Maryanne Amacher — Perceptual Geographies, Philadelphia 2019 (Owen Gardner)

https://issuu.com/bowerbirdphilly/docs/amacherprogramonline

So much revelatory material has come out of the Maryanne Amacher archive so far, and particularly these loving reconstructions of her instrumental music. A lot more attention seems to have been given to “Petra,” which is certainly gorgeous and shows fascinating symmetries with the spatial/timbral concerns of her electronic music, but “Adjacencies” struck me as the Major Work of 20th Century Music. She wrote the damn thing in 1965 and it sounds fresh half a century later, which we can say of no previous piece of percussion music and not much written subsequently. I am slowly losing my mind waiting for Amy Cimini’s book on Amacher to come out, craving a deeper dive into her theory and methods.

Sarah Hennies, Bonnie Jones, Lê Quan Ninh, and Biliana Voutchkova at the High Zerofestival, Baltimore 2019 (Owen Gardner)

youtube

One of at least three great things Sarah Hennies did last year (Reservoir 1 on Black Truffle and the 90 minute cello/percussion duo “The Reinvention of Romance” being the others) was to take part in Baltimore’s High Zero festival, four mind-frying days devoted to free improvisation. This set was one of the highlights of 2019’s festival; each of the four performers having at least one foot in composed music (Ninh is a long-time Cage interpreter and Biliana has collaborated with Peter Ablinger) seemed to lend it a certain sureness and serenity, but ultimately their combined strength as improvisors (fastidiously captured by High Zero’s crack recording team) is what makes it such an engaging listen.

El Chombo — Cuentos de la Cripta (Owen Gardner)

youtube

A relentless tetralogy that nicely balances the rawness of ‘90s proto-reggaetón productions (the first volume self-identifies as “Spanish Reggae”) and the slicker, synth-oriented sound and settled genre conventions we’ve come to enjoy (or not) in the 21st century. This was helpful when working on “People’s Park,” not least for its insistent connection to Jamaican music. I can understand very little Spanish but I'm guessing the lyrics are not unproblematic; signifying language always disappoints.

Wallahi Le Zein! (Owen Gardner)

http://thewealthofthewise.blogspot.com/

An invaluable resource for anyone interested in African music, much more consistent and informative than the often yucky reissue market, which seems to prioritize awkward (and marginal) attempts at Western musical fads—as if what was available was not an impossibly rich and heterogeneous network of self-sufficient musical cultures but merely a broken mirror facing America. The archive of Mauritanian music alone makes this the most worthwhile stop on the information superhighway. There’s plenty of goofy drum programming and appalling sound quality if that’s your bag, but the rich variety of traditional musics is what keeps me coming back.

Miles Davis — On the Corner (Max Eilbacher)

youtube

Some might say Stockhausen serves imperialism but he did his little part to help cook up some of the most twisted American Jazz/funk jams ever. Davis only kept one cassette in his convertible sports car during the On the Corner sessions, a tape of “Hymnen.” He would take each member of the band on highspeed joy rides with the car’s stereo system on full blast. That same energy was channeled in the arrangement and editing. The convergence of a lot of different elements keeps this record on my top 10 list ‘til the end of time. The little detail of Americans taking concepts from European Neu Musik and making something incredibly funky and pleasurable is the cherry on top.

Olivia Block & Marcus Schmickler at Diffusion Festival, Baltimore 2018 (Andrew Bernstein)

This was an amazing pairing, with both artists playing in 8-channel “surround sound.” Marcus’ set was incredibly intense. Pure synthesis with a lot of psychoacoustic inner ear tones and unending overlapping melodies. It felt like the sonic equivalent of watching a strobe light at close distance. Olivia’s set was a slow creep, laying samples to create lush textures that were truly immersive. This was the kind of concert that reminds you of the awesome power of music.

Blacks’ Myths at the Red Room, Baltimore 2019 (Andrew Bernstein)

Blacks' Myths II by Blacks' Myths

I’m there for anything bassist Luke Stewart touches (see Irreversible Entanglements, his solo upright + feedback work, frequent collaborations with too many people to name). Blacks' Myths, his bass and drumset duo with Warren Crudup, is loud, noisy, and intense, and this set at the Red Room last year was particularly transcendent.

“Blue” Gene Tyranny — Out of the Blue (Andrew Bernstein)

Out of the Blue by "Blue" Gene Tyranny

I have probably listened to this record more than any other the last few years. Perfectly crafted pop songs segue into proggy funk jams and then into stream of consciousness drone pieces based around the doppler effect. I’ll put it on over and over again, an experience with an album I haven’t really had since I was in high school.

Bill Orcutt — An Account of the Crimes of Peter Thiel and His Subsequent Arrest, Trial, and Execution 2017 (Max Eilbacher)

AN ACCOUNT OF THE CRIMES OF PETER THIEL AND HIS SUBSEQUENT ARREST, TRIAL AND EXECUTION. by BILL ORCUTT

Legendary underground American guitarists from the most important American rock band also makes top notch conceptual digital audio art. Years ago I thought computer music lacked a certain sub cultural attitude. While this was/is not true, this 2017 release feels like it exists in its own world. High and low brow are in perfect harmony for this patterned enjoyable hellride of a listen. What if Hanne Darboven had to make art while working a full time job and dealing with mild substance abuse?

Lina Wertmüller — Seven Beauties 1975 (Max Eilbacher)

By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42000553

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Beauties

During this pandemic I have been talking film shop over emails nonstop. I went through a big Wertmüller phase in 2018-2019 and as people are trading recommendations I usually try to recommend something by her. This film is the one that I keep reaching for. The email recommending this film usually starts as a draft with “this is really intense” and then I try to hearken back to my film school days and write about the male gaze, patriarchy, communism or something of that nature. I end up writing a bit, feeling like it’s way over the top for a casual email and then I end up deleting everything except “this is a really intense and beautiful film.”

Chaos: Charles Manson, the CIA and the Secret History of the Sixties by Tom O’Neill (Sam Haberman)

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/tom-oneill/chaos/9780316477574/

The last book I managed to check out of the library before it closed. Though it in some ways resembles works of conspiracy theory, Tom O’Neill is always straightforward in telling the reader that, though the official story of the Manson case is almost certainly not true, the actual details don’t cohere into any kind of Meaning. Every new discovery is its own digression that points to a new unknowable truth or unverifiable claim. This really inverts the normal thrill of conspiracy theory, which invites you to either buy into the story being presented or reject it all together, either path offering its own sort of comfort. Chaos offers no such comfort.

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shelbyshoe · 5 years ago

Text

Fairies After Dark

Chapter 3

Natsu, a Horde vampire, desires nothing more than to find his father and leave his brother behind. Lucy, an immortal Valkyrie, just needs to get this Horde bounty off her head. Doesn’t help the assassin after her is a gorgeous vampire with cherry pink hair.

Rated: M (sexual content, violence, and harsh language)

Words: 6123

FF.net link here.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

NALU set in the Immortals After Dark universe by Kresley Cole. I highly recommend the book series. Check out the wiki for more information. Not required to understand the story, but recommended as the universe is fantastic. Hope you enjoy!

Do you know what the Valkyrie do for sport…? We kill leeches, rip their fangs from their skulls, and hang them on the wall for decoration.

- Lucy Heartfilia (AKA Lucy the Celestial Valkyrie)

Did the guy you ate have black hair? Blue eyes? A stupid face? Runs around naked?

- Natsu Dragneel (AKA Natsu the Salamander)

“No, absolutely not,” Lucy said. Erza stood before her with hands on her hips. The women stood between the door to the dungeon and the stairs to the rest of the coven house. The darkness of the basement gave Lucy the chills. The only light came from old exposed bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Levy closed the door to the dungeon and stood beside Lucy.

“I have a barrier placed on the dungeon. No one traces out or in,” she said. While Lucy felt dread, the witch practically bounced on her heels with excitement.

“Why? We can’t let them think we’re going to go soft on them,” Erza continued.

“What’s the problem?” Levy asked.

“Erza wants to torture them a bit, but Lucy says no violence.” Cana pointed between the two and leaned against the basement wall. Lucy found it suspicious how little Cana had intervened in all this.

“I’m beginning to think you feel something for that vampire.” Erza’s eyes narrowed and Cana shot her a wink. Juvia’s footsteps cut through their conversation. The little witch bounded down the stairs with a slip of paper in her hands.

“I believe I got everything for the warding spell, Miss Lucy.” Her eyes scrolling through the list.

“Lucy!” Natsu’s voice rang out in the cold basement. Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest at the sound of her name shouted in the darkness.

“Fine, we can just talk to him. But if he tries to hold back form me, I will use violence.” She pushed through the dungeon door, and Lucy trailed behind her. The mystical barrier was so thick that she could feel it pass over her skin.

“Lucy!” Natsu called.

“Will you shut up? I’m here,” Lucy said. The temperature had dropped substantially since they entered the room. A clang of bars came from one of the cells. Each one reminded her of ancient times with archaic cells that held no bathroom or cot. Just metal bars, a cement floor, and a corner bucket.

“Isn’t it great?” Levy said, “I wanted it to look like one of those renaissance festivals the humans like.”

“Levy, this is barbaric.”

“I know, right? So aesthetically pleasing.” Why was Levy her friend again? The whole dungeon gave her the creeps. At least the dungeon at Val Hall was modern. They found Natsu pressed against the bars at the farthest cell from the door. His fingers gripped around the enchanted metal with a scowl plastered on his face. Gajeel sat in the corner of the same cell—far away from the single bucket. His eyes closed as though he slept.

“What is this about a warding spell?” Natsu’s attention fixed on Lucy.

“We have some questions for you.” Erza stood straighter with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Are you trying to keep me away from you?” Natsu ignored Erza even when she moved to break his line of sight.

“I am.” She had no reason to lie about it since she never promised him forever. His brows came together, and he pulled away from the bars.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. The question echoed from the night before. When she pulled away from him in the alley, he had asked her the same. Her heart squeezed in her chest at his downtrodden expression. Erza banged on the bars with her dagger.

“Hey! Eyes over here and answer me or I’ll gut you both,” Erza said. The dagger had manifested from the air with a natural grace that named her, Erza “Titania” the Fairy Queen. Natsu’s scowl resurfaced—his attention on Erza. Gajeel’s eyes opened to focus on the knife in her hands. “What has your brother done with Mavis?” She threw the question at the vampires. Natsu’s jaw tensed and hands curled into fists.

“I need to speak to Lucy. Alone.” Natsu stood nearly touching the blade. The fearlessness in his demand not lost on Lucy.

“Answer my question, and I’ll allow it.”

“Allow it? I will speak to Lucy, and then you’ll ask your question.” No one spoke to Erza this way and lived. Her pulse quickened in her throat. Gajeel had one hand on the ground as if ready to stand. A soft red haze shimmered across his vision. If they fought, would Natsu win? Would Erza kill him? How enchanted was Levy’s new basement dungeon? A chill ran through her spine. What could she do?

“I’ll talk to him, Erza.” Lucy stepped beside her. Erza rooted in place—a glare fixed to her face. “Can’t you trust me?”

“There was never a time, Lucy, that I didn’t trust you with my life.” Erza frowned and turned to the door. Lucy got what she wanted. No one would be killing anyone, and yet she felt unsatisfied. Cana patted her on the back.

“Have fun.” She looped her arm around Levy’s and pulled her to the door. Juvia followed behind and waved to Lucy on her way out. She waited until the door clicked shut.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t brides be nicer?” Gajeel said.

“Be quiet,” both replied in unison. Gajeel grinned and adjusted himself on the cement floor.

“Why are you using a warding spell?” Natsu asked.

“Oh, come on. You’re a Horde vampire and your brother is the king. There is no way this is working out for either of us.” Lucy wrapped her arms around her as Natsu leaned into the bars.

“She’s got you there,” Gajeel added.

“Now, why are you here, Natsu?” Lucy said.

“You killed Rufus the Minstrel.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” While she wanted to gloat about the kill, she had to admit the Minstrel was strong. The leech nearly ripped her arm off.

“Why would I be?” Natsu let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders drooped noticeably. “I came here to figure out how I could keep you safe from them. I’m only in the Horde for the protection. Can’t run alone in the Lore. My allegiances were never with Zeref, and he’s no brother to me.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Born vampires can’t lie.” Gajeel picked at his cuticles with a kunai he’d produced. Lucy made a mental note of his power.

“Even if that’s true, I don’t need protection,” Lucy said. Gajeel chuckled and moved to the other hand.

“Not even I can defend myself from the entire Horde, Lucy. They want the one who murdered him dead,” Natsu said. Lucy was no fragile maiden requiring protection. Her powers, while not as strong as the others, were nothing to underestimate. Thunder rumbled outside.

“Do you know what the Valkyrie do for sport, Natsu?” Lucy stepped closer to the bars. His eyes roamed her curves and darkened. “We kill leeches, rip their fangs from their skulls, and hang them on the wall for decoration.”

“Sounds like fun,” Natsu said. From what little they’d spoken, Lucy found it unsurprising to hear him take what she said as a challenge rather than a threat.

“If you don’t stop coming after me, talking about protection as if I’m a lamb at the slaughter instead of an immortal Valkyrie, I will have to play that sport with you too.” She turned from the bars and walked out of the dungeon. The door slammed behind her, and her pulse raced. Surely it was anger and not the way he looked at her that made her blood burn.

♥♥♥

“I like her,” Gajeel said.

“What’s not to like?” Natsu slid down to the floor with his legs crossed.

“Do you know where their Valk is?” Gajeel’s voice held no accusations and he leaned toward Natsu waiting for his reply.

“No. Zeref may have done it and told no one. Could possibly be the work of the old king.”

“So, what happens when they find out we have no information for them?”

“Lucy won’t let them do anything to us.” Natsu propped his chin in his palm. Why would they think he had information? They must believe he and Zeref were close enough to exchange that kind of information. Would explain the way Lucy felt about him. The idea that Zeref could impair the way his bride saw him made him indignant.

“You mean she won’t let them do anything to you! What about me? Also, I don’t know if you heard her correctly, but these women want us dismembered and thrown to the wolves.”

“The blue one likes you; you’ll be fine.” He waved his hand in dismissal and racked his brain for any clues of a captured Valkyrie. When Zeref took the throne, they met with Erza. They hadn’t fought about anything then, and she wouldn’t have agreed to the truce had the former king or Zeref taken Mavis. She either didn’t know about the capture then, or Mavis wasn’t missing yet. Was the Valkyrie taken by someone else? “Were you around for the last Accession war?” Gajeel’s brows furrowed, his gaze going red, investigating memories.

“I have some memories from that time, but I’m not sure which ones were mine.” Gajeel tilted his head with an unfocused stare into the dungeon.

“Anything about the Valkyrie?” The more Natsu thought, the more he believed Zeref had something to do with the Valkyrie’s disappearance. His secrets ran deep, and the Valkyrie already deduced that he had.

“No, but I did kill a Forebearer that seems to have been in the war.” Gajeel grimaced and his eyes dropped back to Natsu, clearing in the process. “I can’t tell shit from these memories.”

“Did the guy you ate have black hair? Blue eyes? A stupid face? Runs around naked?” Part of him hoped Gray was dead. Annoying bastard. The other part wanted him alive. He could call him there and ask if he knew about their Valkyrie. Maybe if he sent Erza to Gray, she could kill him and allow Natsu some time alone with Lucy. Two birds.

“Nah, some light-haired guy I had to kill on a bounty.” This was perfect. The door to the dungeon clicked open and slammed shut behind someone. Their footfalls clicking against the cement floor.

“Okay, you had your time,” Erza said. The armor she wore was an iridescent color that hurt his eyes if he looked at it for too long.

“A little overdressed, aren’t we?” Natsu asked from the floor. Gajeel laughed through his nose. A spear manifested in Erza’s grasp.

“Does your king know what happened to Mavis the Fairy Tactician?” Her eyes flickered the silver of her race. A rumble of thunder cut through the basement walls.

“Wow. With a tagline like that, I can understand why someone would want her,” Gajeel said. With one fluid movement, Erza lunged forward and cut into Gajeel’s cheek with her spear. His eyes turned a deep crimson and blood dripped from the cut. Natsu instinctively reached his arm out and pressed it over Gajeel’s chest to keep him from standing. If he decided to attack Erza, Natsu wasn’t sure he could hold him back.

“This is the first time I’ve heard her name,” Natsu said, “If I recall, the Horde was not the only vampire group in that war.” Erza’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“You expect me to believe some human-turned-leech could capture and hold the queen of the Valkyrie?”

“That I can’t say, but lucky for you I know one personally and we can just ask them.” He had to speak carefully. While he hadn’t seen her in battle, he surmised that this Valkyrie had enough kills on her belt to prove that she could easily rip their spines out of their throats.

“Who?”

“Gray Fullbuster, the Forebearer’s general,” Natsu said. Gajeel pushed his arm from his chest and didn’t bother to wipe the blood from his cheek.

“How would you know a Forebearer?” Erza adjusted the spear to point through the bars at his face. Her muscles bunched in her arms, ready to plunge the weapon into his skull.

“Let’s get this out of the way,” Natsu said, “I have no allegiance to anyone, especially not Zeref. In fact, go ahead and kill him for all I care. My biggest concern now is Lucy’s safety.” Her grip loosened on the spear.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” she asked.

“Born vampires can’t lie. Why does no one know this?” Gajeel said. Erza’s brows came together, but she didn’t question it.

“Where does this general come into the picture?” Erza asked.

“Before I joined the crusty Horde, I traveled with him. We were together a few centuries. I didn’t join the Horde until Zeref took the throne.” The spear lowered from his face and she set the end down on the floor with a clink.

“How can we contact him?” she asked.

“Why not just summon the bastard?” Gajeel’s grin was wide and menacing. The image of Gray popping into a witch’s coven and being manhandled sat well with Natsu.

“Sure, why not?” Natsu shrugged and leaned against the back wall. “We have enough room in here.”

“Oh no, we are separating you two.”

“What? Why?” Gajeel asked.

“I’d like to remind you that I don’t trust either of you.” The spear disappeared, but the threat remained. “I’ll have someone here to escort you to a new cell.” Erza clinked and clanked all the way to the dungeon door.

“What’s with the armor?” Natsu said.

“Beats me. Why are you allowing these women to boss you around? Last I checked you didn’t let anyone tie you down.” How could he explain how important Lucy felt to him?

“I chose to come here.”

“So? They’re still running the show. Not much freedom here.” He gestured toward the bared cells.

“Freedom is about choices, and I chose Lucy.”

“Didn’t fate do that?”

“What can I say? Fate has good taste in women.” Footsteps came down the basement stairs.

“Hey, before they separate us, I have to ask you something,” Gajeel said, “How did you know the bunny was your bride?” The question sounded so genuine that Natsu didn’t know how to respond.

“Um, she blooded me. Has no one taught you the vampire birds and bees?”

“I’m not fucking around.” Gajeel’s eyes flashed. “Before that. How did you know she was your bride?” Her heartbeat had reverberated against his chest like the music that shook the walls that night. His mind swam with it. Even now, he could faintly hear it through the witch’s thick barrier. A siren song for him alone. When she left the dungeon, her absence could have driven him mad if he let it. What had intrigued him about her that night?

“At first, it was her heartbeat.” Natsu turned to the man beside him in earnest. Gajeel focused on him as though he were giving him the directions to the holy grail. “It was so loud; I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t get it out of my head. But it was her touch that confirmed it.” The door opened and made Gajeel jump. The woman who stood before them this time was the Valkyrie with long brown hair.

“Hello, boys. I’m Cana and I’ll be your escort today. I’ve been instructed to bring this one to the first cell.” She pointed to Gajeel with her long black painted claw.

♥♥♥

“Lucy, if you don’t stop shaking your leg and making the floor creak, I’m going to throw you out.” Levy sat on the living room floor. The couch moved back so that they could create a summoning circle. Lucy ceased the nervous habit and laid with her head back on the sofa cushions.

“I’m stressed,” she said.

“I would be too, if the guy I slept was the prince of the Horde.”

“We didn’t sleep together!” Lucy straightened; her legs tucked beneath her. Levy merely hummed to herself as she drew the circle out in salt. “We didn’t!”

“Look, I wouldn’t even blame you if you did. It’s the Valkyrie who have a problem with vampires, not me.”

“Why is that?”

“You all are on a crusade. We are mercenaries doing business with the highest bidder.” Her fingers worked in a little bowl to stir a paste made of herbs. With easy strokes, she drew sigils on the wood floor. “Once you get all your stuff sorted out with your vamp, I’ll be having a nice chat with his friend.”

“You really are thirsty.” Lucy saw the back porch from a window in the living room. The backyard was lush and green with plant life. Farther off were rocks that stood proud against the crashing sea. Erza leaned against the banister with her face toward the horizon. Since she emerged from the basement, she appeared out of focus. How long had she waited for a sign of Mavis?

“I wouldn’t worry too much about her.” Cana closed the basement door and sauntered to the couch.

“What if we find out Mavis is dead?” Lucy asked. Cana shrugged and plopped down beside her.

“I don’t know, my love.”

“Why do I not believe that?” The soothsayer was not like a full blood vampire. She could lie. Kooky Cana knew exactly what she was saying. Cana’s plans and pace of time a mystery to all. “I’m sure you already know where Mavis is.” Cana leaned her head against Lucy’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

“That should do it.” Levy stood from her spot in the center of her salt circle.

“Juvia has candles.” Juvia stood beside her with arms full of fresh white candles.

“Draw the sigils on those, and I’ll grab the book of shadows.” Levy bounded from the living room, a fresh pep in her step.

“At least someone is happy about all this,” Lucy said.

“Is Miss Lucy worried about her vampire?” Juvia asked. She held a small pocketknife and carved each candle. Watching the process felt soothing.

“My vampire? Not really. If he complies with us, nothing should happen to him,” Lucy said. Cana laughed and sat up from her shoulder.

“You really think Erza won’t want to add his fangs to her collection?” she said.

“Not if I tell her not to.”

“And they call me kooky.” Cana shook her head and glanced at Erza from the window. “That woman out there will do anything for Mavis.”

“Why?” Juvia asked. Her hands froze over the half-carved sigil.

“She believes it was her fault that Mavis disappeared.” For once, Cana didn’t deny what she already knew. This was the first time Lucy heard this about Erza. No one gave the details on Mavis’s disappearance.

“Well, that’s obviously not true,” Lucy said.

“She’ll learn that eventually.” Cana regarded Lucy, and Juvia continued to carve. “Your man is all alone down there. You sure you have nothing else to say to him?” she asked.

“I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that you just called him “my man,” or that you are goading me to speak to him. What do you get out of it if I do speak to him?” Lucy said. Cana placed a hand over her heart in her false offense.

“Why would you believe I had an ulterior motive? I just want to see you happy, and I believe he would do that for you.” Lucy couldn’t help the spike in her heartbeat. Had Cana seen something? Was Natsu in her future? Why did that idea excite her? Impossible. Leeches and Valkyrie don’t go together. She’d be a laughingstock that no one would take seriously. Erza would kick her out of Val Hall. Yet her thoughts betrayed her. His hands against her inner thighs spreading them for better access occupied her. His darkened eyes gazing across her skin as if she were his salvation. “Did I do something wrong?” he had asked. Gods no. He had done absolutely nothing wrong, except exist. Cana stood from the sofa and moved to the dining room. The back door opened and closed behind her. Erza didn’t even look up when Cana stood beside her. Cana may not have an ulterior motive. Lucy leaned back into the sofa and allowed her a reprieve to fantasize about the vampire in her friend’s basement. She thought about how he stood up against Erza, his eyes darkening with malice. He was so sure of himself, so ready to take her on to get to Lucy. His appearance was almost as hot as his image in the living book of Lore. She pictured that muscular body over her, his lips hovered over her skin, their bodies merged in heated bliss.

“Lucy!” Natsu’s voice cut through the house like a knife. Lucy startled in her spot on the couch. Everyone, including the two women on the porch, turned to her. Her cheeks warmed under their gazes. She convinced herself that she was angry and not embarrassed.

“I’ll deal with it.” Lucy stood and waved to the room to continue whatever they were doing. She gave the two outside a thumbs up to set them at ease and dashed toward his voice.

“Lucy Heartfilia!” he called. Lucy cringed at her full name. Why had she given him her full name? Her pace quickened down the basement stairs.

“You are the loudest person I have ever met in my life!” she said.

“Can we stop all the screaming?” Gajeel asked from the first cell by the door. She watched him produce two metal earplugs and shove them into his ears. “Wake me when all the screaming is over,” he said. His voice louder in his lack of hearing. He laid on the floor and turned toward the wall. Lucy stomped to the farthest cell and found Natsu against the bars. His eyes the dark black of high emotion.

“You are the most—” she began.

“I could hear your heartbeat speed up from down here,” he groaned, “I can scent you.” His eyes squeezed shut as if to shut something out.

“Sorry to bother you then.” She turned to leave. If all he wanted was to complain about her heartbeat, then he could sit in the basement and rot. She’d ask Levy to soundproof the dungeon better. His arm reached out between the bars and grabbed her arm.

“You weren’t doing anything by yourself, were you?” His voice dipped low. Lucy glanced at the farthest cell. She could still see Gajeel lying on the floor with his metal earplugs. Natsu gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger turning her to face him. The darkness in his gaze remained, his lids heavier than before. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“You’re my bride, and your body is screaming at me.” His hand lightly grazed her jaw and moved down to her décolletage. Her eyes slid closed. A heat snaked down her body from his fingertips. She opened her eyes to watch his eyes fix to her mouth. His grasp loosened on her arm and slid down her hip. Her sex tightened in anticipation, her jaw going slack when he undid her shorts and slid his fingers into her panties. Fuck. Natsu grinned and his fangs lengthened in his mouth. Lucy pressed her body against the bars. Her need built as it had before. His mouth covered hers between the bars, taking in her gasp as his digits slid between her folds. Her legs were rubber and she grabbed the bars on either side of her to keep herself standing. His mouth set her ablaze, her body grind against his hand, and she only wanted more. Hotter. She needed to burn up in him. His thumb stroked her sensitive clit, and his mouth took her in a frenzy. She felt his fang glide against her tongue first. The split second of pain set in after, but it was the pleasure that overtook her. He slid his other hand behind her head, fingers in her hair, and pressed her lips harder against his. The copper taste of her own blood saturated her mouth. She felt his moan against her skin. His body pressed so tight. Her climax hit her like a freight train, her body not getting enough of the feeling, like no other experience before. Is this how intense it would always be with Natsu? His fingers worked inside her, stroking her favorite places, riding her out of her euphoria. Their kisses slowed—taking time to taste each other. Her eyes snapped open and she wrenched herself from his grasp. She had one of her hands around the opening of her shorts and the other against her lips. The copper flavor still provided her mouth. She was close to loathing but the look of Natsu, fucked out against the bars, stamped out the feeling. He had slumped against them with a dazed grin. His eyes still black as ink and cheeks flushed from taking her blood. The look was unsettling, but her body still begged for more. She felt out of control, and it scared her. She closed her shorts and wiped her mouth.

“The circle is ready!” Cana’s cheerful voice sounded passed the dungeon door that Lucy hadn’t heard open.

“I’ll bring him up!” Lucy didn’t recognize her own voice. The door clicked closed and Natsu stood straighter and adjusted his pants.

“How could you possibly want to keep us apart?” His voice was husky and delicious. She swallowed to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. Just like the battlefield, a mouth full of blood, chaotic, and wrong.

“How could I possibly not? You took my blood, Natsu. You didn’t even ask. The idea of it is revolting.”

“First, it was an accident. Second, it didn’t feel like you found it revolting.” Any attraction she had felt dissipated. The rage boiled to the surface.

“I can’t stand you.”

“Why? Because I’m a vampire? Lucy, if that’s the only reason why you deny us, I think I can live with that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If anything, it proves to me that we’re perfect. Fate picked us and I happen to agree with its decision. If it was my personality or something about the way I’ve treated you that you hated, I’d happily step away. But the only thing standing in my way is your feeling towards all vampires as if I’m just like every other leech you’ve ever met. That, Lucy, I can change your mind on.” The dark green of his eyes returned, clear and bright. “Let’s go summon a Forebearer, shall we?”

♥♥♥

If what Lucy had to say was an attempt to scare Natsu away, it didn’t work. In fact, he felt a pep in his step as she roughly escorted him to the living room. He’d barely contained himself down in the basement. The feeling of her coming apart in his hands sang like a song on repeat. Nothing could kill his mood now.

“You look happy,” Erza said. Lucy tossed him to the floor. Magical cuffs linked his wrists together behind his back.

“I really am,” he said. Lucy scowled at him and moved to a chair by the extinguished fireplace. Smart witches already knew he could manipulate fire. Not like the cuffs would allow him to do so.

“Let’s just get this over with, Levy,” Lucy said. The blue-haired witch frowned. The book in her hands appeared older than every immortal in the room. He couldn’t tell what kind of skin made the leather of the cover. Pages stuck out from the binding, other objects like feathers and bones marked other pages. Two of the witches stood at the edge of the salt circle. One held a white candle covered in carved runes and sigils that matched the ones at their feet. They illuminated in the wax when the witches chanted in a language Natsu had never heard. The energy swirled throughout the room and seemed to pull to the middle of the circle. Levy, with tome in hand, glowed in ethereal light. Her hair hovered over her shoulders in a wind that no one else could feel. Witches were scary.

“I call to you,” Levy said. As if the man had traced there himself, Gray Fullbuster appeared in the center of the circle with a look of horror and bewilderment across his face. Erza manifested her spear and pointed it toward the man’s chest. His cool blue eyes scanned the room and fell on Natsu, on the floor with hands behind his back.

“What the fuck have you done now?” Gray said.

“Nice to see you too, Gray.”

“It appears you two actually know each other,” Erza said.

“Unfortunately,” Natsu said. Gray shot him a dirty look and a rude hand gesture. Erza rolled her eyes.

“You were a part of the last Accession war?” she asked. Gray shook his head and took in the rest of the room. Knowing the Forebearer, he was coming up with an escape plan. Poor bastard. Instead of glaring at Natsu, he continued to eye the witch hiding behind her lit white candle.

“Natsu, what the hell is this all about? You know we were traveling through most of the Accession.”

“They’re looking for a Valkyrie named Mavis the Fairy Tactician. Ring a bell?” Natsu asked.

“Jellal spoke of her once when I joined their ranks at the end of the war. You remember, Natsu, that time you decided to join the Horde.” Gray seethed at him. His hands held securely at his side wrapped into fists. The room turned to Natsu in the vicious way it did when everyone thought you were scum.

“Let’s not forget, Gray, that you were once a human who agreed to convert to vampirism. I just had the misfortune of being born the way I am.” This time, heads shot to the vampire held helpless in a summoning circle.

“Enough.” Erza’s word held power behind it that doused the room in silence.

“If you don’t have information for me, who does? Who is Jellal?” Erza pointed the tip of her spear at Gray’s heart. He stood unflinching as the blade pressed against the fabric of his white coat.

“If you are asking me to betray those closest to me, then you can just kill me here.”

“Oh, please.” Natsu adjusted himself on the floor, so the cuffs didn’t dig into his skin. “Always so noble and shit. Just tell them Jellal is the leader of the Forebearers.” Natsu sat on the couch behind him and wiggled with impatience. After the delicious taste of Lucy, he wanted to feed. Gray was just slowing everything down. His blue eyes blackened in rage. Whatever. Natsu would deal with it later.

“The leader?” Erza said.

“You bastard,” Gray said.

“Where can we find Jellal?” Lucy stood from the chair and paced at the window. Just as antsy as he was. Natsu saw a glimpse of what taking her blood could be like. There was nothing like his bride against his lips. He wasn’t sure if he could take anyone else and pictured Lucy falling apart in his arms again. As if reading his mind, she glanced in his direction.

“Like I’m going to tell you that.” Gray sneered at Lucy and glanced between them.

“You will tell me where Jellal is.” Erza flicked the spear up and ripped his coat along with the shirt beneath. A trickle of blood ran down his exposed chest. Juvia made a small sound and dropped the candle. Levy held out a hand just in time to write levitate in the air around the wax. The witch sighed.

“Can someone stand here and take this?” Levy said. Juvia shrank under her gaze and rushed out of the room. Gray’s dark gaze followed her all the way up the stairs. Interesting. Lucy clutched the candle and took Juvia’s place.

“Gray, they just want to ask about the Valkyrie. They’re not going to invade.” Natsu crossed his legs on the couch.

“I don’t know them. It would be a betrayal,” Gray said.

“Erza, why doesn’t Gray go ask him and return here?” Natsu said.

“Shut it,” Erza replied, “You aren’t running this show, leech.”

“What makes you think he’ll ask him and just run back to us with information?” Lucy asked.

“One, you can just summon him back and kill him if he doesn’t do as you ask. Two, I’ll go with him to make sure the task is done,” Natsu said. The room went into an uproar. Gray yapped about spending time with Natsu. Erza shook her head and insisted that she couldn’t trust them. Natsu could barely hear Lucy over the noise, but he swore she insulted him.

“I agree with him,” Cana said next to him on the couch. Her presence was so muted that Natsu hadn’t noticed her there. The chaos ceased.

“What? You can’t possibly believe this vampire?” Erza said.

“I have to agree with Erza on this,” Lucy said.

“I also agree. I’m not going to travel around with this asshole again,” Gray added. Erza glared at him.

“Lucky for us, you don’t make decisions here,” she said.

“Lucy has blooded Natsu. Why would he betray her? He’ll be anywhere she is, and he doesn’t like Gray enough to help him. I think it’s a fine plan. We get information, he gets to prove to Lucy that he’s trustworthy, Gray gets to not betray his own people, so that’s a win-win-win.” Cana nodded approving her own plan.

“I like you. Your name was Cana, right?” Natsu asked. The woman smirked and leaned toward him. Her eyes lit with mischief. She pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

“Whatever you want to call me, cutie.”

“Stop being ridiculous, Cana.” Lucy’s eyes were swirling mercury fixed on Cana’s touch. The woman beside him laughed and leaned against the armrest instead.

“Jealous?” Cana asked. Lucy’s claws dug into the white wax in her hands.

“Enough!” Erza pressed her fingers to her forehead with a furrowed brow. Her spear disappearing from her hand. “Fine, Natsu will go with Gray to the Forebearer leader and report back.” Lucy gave the candle to Erza and stride from the room. Cana patted him on the leg and stood to follow.

“No worries,” she said, “I’ll talk to her.” He had no idea what she would talk to her about. Natsu stood before Levy.

“I’d like if you uncuffed me now,” he said.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Levy removed the cuffs from his wrists with a tiny key around her neck. “Don’t worry about your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Yeah, Gajeel. I’ll take care of him.” Her grin spread across her face in a way that reminded him of a shark. Black Steel was in for some trouble. He stood beside Gray in the circle. They sent them off without another word.

Both vampires lie on the back looking up at the dark and cloudy sky. Snow came down in light flakes and melted against his skin.

“Where are we?” Natsu asked. Gray’s coat and shirt flapped open in the wind, so he shed the garments and walked bare-chested through the snow.

“Russia.”

“Oh, joy.” Natsu stood and brushed off the snow sticking to his hair. “Let’s go—” His words cut off by Gray’s fist in his face. The things he’d do for Lucy.

#fairy tail #ft fan fiction #nalu #nalu fan fiction #fairy tail fan fiction #fairies after dark #fad ch 3 #good afternoon i'll post again in the evening

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ice-cream-beat · 6 years ago

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Tales of Zestiria Perfect Guide: Sorey

This is the first of my translations from the Perfect Guide. I plan to do the rest of the party’s character pages, as well as some other sections I found interesting, and I intend to do the World Guidance book later on, too.

Contains major game spoilers!

"I want to explore the world's ruins, because I believe the answer to humans and seraphim happily coexisting can be found in ancient times.”

Stats

Sex: Male

Height: 175cm (5’9”)

First-person pronoun: Ore

True name: ---

Race: human

Weapon: one-handed ceremonial sword

Hometown: Elysia, village of the seraphim

Bio

A young man raised by seraphim, beings who govern nature. He’s been familiar with the archaeological book "the Celestial Record" from an early age, and desires to explore ancient ruins and the history behind them. In the wake of an archaeological expedition, he travels in search of a world in which humans and seraphim can live together, and becomes the Shepherd depicted in the legends of the Celestial Record. He ultimately overcomes the obstacles presented by the country’s people and becomes their unifying force.

Concept art notes

Under the Mantle: Inner Garments Beneath the Shepherd's costume are Sorey's everyday clothes, including his familiar blue dress shirt. His cuffs are integrated with a belt for attaching gloves, making it perfectly suited for a long trip.

Ceremonial Sword It was said he discovered it in the Mabinogio Ruins, a ceremonial sword left behind by a previous Shepherd. The blade's beautiful pattern is known as the Shepherd's trademark. The hilt’s accent is the same as the one on his ears, a favorite feather decoration used as an ornament.

Timeline

Encounter in the ruins: Protected beneath the forest of the seraphim are the Mabinogio Ruins, where Sorey rescued a female knight named Alisha. He was delighted and excited to meet a human like himself for the first time in his life, who also happened to be familiar with the Celestial Record. Having seraphim as his foster parents, he dreamed of seraphim and humans coexisting as they did in ancient times. He would later aim to save Alisha's life once again by journeying to the world below. Quote: "I can't turn away a person in need. That's all!"

Birth of the Shepherd: In the royal capital of Ladylake, the church held a ceremony known as the Sacred Blade Festival that imitated the legend of the Shepherd. However, a riot broke out among the people as part of a conspiracy against Alisha, and hellions materialized and filled the place. Sorey, who happened to be present, wanted wholeheartedly to protect the people, and so he became the vessel of Lailah, the seraph dwelling in the sacred sword, and commendably quelled the hellions as the Shepherd. Quote: "I offer this body as your vessel, and accept fate's burden!"

On my own two feet: Bartlow, a councilor of the Kingdom of Hyland, sought to weaken Alisha's influence by winning Sorey over to his political party. Outwardly, he asked Sorey to dine with him, but in reality it was a means of coercing him. Bartlow selfishly saw the Shepherd's existence as a playing piece for politics and made light of his own country's princess, but Sorey saw through his plan and turned his back on the palace with a calm farewell. Quote: "I'll fulfill my dreams myself. Mine, and Alisha's."

Fated to be shunned: Famine and natural disaster. As a means of helping the people, who were unaware that these were the effects of hellions or how to solve them, Sorey built a bridge foundation in the raging river. But the source of his power were the seraphim, who couldn’t be seen by normal humans, and his strange abilities were seen as nothing more than heresy. However, Sorey did his best to help and to face the situation cheerfully. Quote: "I have to get used to it from now on. I'll use this power, even in the eyes of the people."

The one who tears up the battlefield: "Conspiring with the Shepherd and the enemy nation of Rolance to incite the people” -- to set his trap, Bartlow had Alisha arrested under these charges. Using her as a shield, he forced Sorey to take part in a military conflict. Should the mighty power of the Shepherd be used for war, it would surely lead to calamity, but for the sake of his dear friend, Sorey stifled his anger and distress and used his power. Quote: "What I need to do hasn't changed. No matter whose battlefield this is!"

Determined to save: During Sorey's journey as the Shepherd, the wandering seraph Zaveid stood in his way multiple times. He denied the Shepherd's mission to purify hellions, and sought to kill them in retaliation for harming humans and seraphim. As if to crush Sorey's spirit, Zaveid challenged him to battle again. But Sorey said with confidence that he wouldn’t give up on his path, because he wanted to save the souls of the humans and seraphim who turned into hellions. Quote: "You don’t need to kill hellions when we can purify them! That’s why...!"

Shedding light on the past: The relationship between the previous Shepherd, who died around 20 years ago, and Heldalf, a victim of the calamity. Discovering that the present calamity’s origin was tied to the tragic meeting of those two, Sorey wished not to destroy calamity, but to save Heldalf. His dream of seeing humans and seraphim coexist as in the days of the Celestial Record would never come true as long as despair and ruin threatened the world. Quote: "...I want to save Heldalf."

Confronting a dragon: In a battlefield filled with malevolence and negativity, a dragon was born as part of Heldalf’s scheme. Humans have never been able to contend with such overwhelming power, and yet Sorey’s group endlessly fought on. Their spirit moved the hearts of the quarreling Hyland and Rolance soldiers, and was successful in connecting the people through hope. Quote: “We’re going to live!”

To save the world: Symmone identified with Heldalf and worked as his subordinate from the shadows. She suffered from her work and said that a life that endangered others meant nothing in the world, and that such an existence could have no redemption except through death. She used illusions to hurt and manipulate people’s hearts, but Sorey defeated them and reached out to her, saying that happiness isn’t limited to certain people, or to good or evil. Quote: “I’ll definitely find a way for everyone to be happy!”

The pure one free of malevolence: With Maotelus, one of the Five Lords, transformed into a hellion and under his control, Heldalf attempted to corrupt Sorey with malevolence by harming his foster parent, Zenrus. Believing that death was the only way to save him, Sorey thrust his sword into his own parent. Even as he wailed, he took up his sword again. The Shepherd’s desire to purify the world was a force stronger than malevolence. Quote: “This… this is just… something I must do!”

#tales of zestiria #sorey #jay translates #that last paragraph hurt #f a m i l y f e e l s #tales of zestiria: perfect guide #his world guidance entry will be cake after this one sheesh

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addictedforbooksquad · 5 years ago

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P I C K (S) O F T H E M O N T H: M A Y

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Passion on Park Avenue by Lauren Layne

Mistborn: The Alloy Era Series by Brandon Sanderson

Mistborn: Secret History by Brandon Sanderson

Marriage for One by Ella Maise

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Genres: Historical Romance, LGBT, F/F romance

Synopsis:

As Lucy Muchelney watches her ex-lover’s sham of a wedding, she wishes herself anywhere else. It isn’t until she finds a letter from the Countess of Moth, looking for someone to translate a groundbreaking French astronomy text, that she knows where to go. Showing up at the Countess’ London home, she hoped to find a challenge, not a woman who takes her breath away. Catherine St Day looks forward to a quiet widowhood once her late husband’s scientific legacy is fulfilled. She expected to hand off the translation and wash her hands of the project—instead, she is intrigued by the young woman who turns up at her door, begging to be allowed to do the work, and she agrees to let Lucy stay. But as Catherine finds herself longing for Lucy, everything she believes about herself and her life is tested. While Lucy spends her days interpreting the complicated French text, she spends her nights falling in love with the alluring Catherine. But sabotage and old wounds threaten to sever the threads that bind them. Can Lucy and Catherine find the strength to stay together or are they doomed to be star-crossed lovers?

Why we love it:

a beautiful love story between two women

female friendships and women supporting women

characters who find out about Lucy and Catherine are not homophobic but rather supportive

focus on both romance AND personal journeys of the characters

sexism and misogyny are challenged, by both female and male characters (some of them at least)

beautiful, poetic passages

Trigger warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, sexism, misogyny

≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

Passion on Park Avenue by Lauren Layne

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, New Adult

Synopsis:

For as long as she can remember, Bronx-born Naomi Powell has had one goal: to prove her worth among the Upper East Side elite—the same people for which her mom worked as a housekeeper. Now, as the strongminded, sassy CEO of one of the biggest jewelry empires in the country, Naomi finally has exactly what she wants—but it’s going to take more than just the right address to make Manhattan’s upper class stop treating her like an outsider. The worst offender is her new neighbor, Oliver Cunningham—the grown son of the very family Naomi’s mother used to work for. Oliver used to torment Naomi when they were children, and as a ridiculously attractive adult, he’s tormenting her in entirely different ways. Now they find themselves engaged in a battle-of-wills that will either consume or destroy them… Filled with charm and heart and plenty of sex and snark, this entertaining series will hook you from the very first page.

Why we love it:

ambitious millionaire female character whose story is basically about rags to riches

soft male character

female friendships and dynamics are amazing

cute love story

Lauren Layne’s style has improved so much and it’s time to start reading her books

Trigger warnings: n/a

Mistborn: The Alloy Era series by Brandon Sanderson

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Three hundred years after the events of the Mistborn trilogy, Scadrial is now on the verge of modernity, with railroads to supplement the canals, electric lighting in the streets and the homes of the wealthy, and the first steel-framed skyscrapers racing for the clouds. Kelsier, Vin, Elend, Sazed, Spook, and the rest are now part of history—or religion. Yet even as science and technology are reaching new heights, the old magics of Allomancy and Feruchemy continue to play a role in this reborn world. Out in the frontier lands known as the Roughs, they are crucial tools for the brave men and women attempting to establish order and justice. One such is Waxillium Ladrian, a rare Twinborn who can Push on metals with his Allomancy and use Feruchemy to become lighter or heavier at will. After twenty years in the Roughs, Wax has been forced by family tragedy to return to the metropolis of Elendel. Now he must reluctantly put away his guns and assume the duties and dignity incumbent upon the head of a noble house. Or so he thinks, until he learns the hard way that the mansions and elegant tree-lined streets of the city can be even more dangerous than the dusty plains of the Roughs.

Why we love it:

amazing writing

plots and twists all around

we see familiar faces from the first trilogy *wink wink*

SO. MUCH. FUN.

western-sherlock-fantasy

most adorable character ever, that's on the spectrum

Trigger warnings: violence

Mistborn: Secret History by Brandon Sanderson

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Mistborn: Secret History is a companion story to the original Mistborn trilogy. As such, it contains HUGE SPOILERS for the books Mistborn (The Final Empire), The Well of Ascension, and The Hero of Ages. It also contains very minor spoilers for the book The Bands of Mourning. Mistborn: Secret History builds upon the characterization, events, and worldbuilding of the original trilogy. Reading it without that background will be a confusing process at best. In short, this isn’t the place to start your journey into Mistborn. (Though if you have read the trilogy—but it has been a while—you should be just fine, so long as you remember the characters and the general plot of the books.) Saying anything more here risks revealing too much. Even knowledge of this story’s existence is, in a way, a spoiler. There’s always another secret.

Why we love it:

view on Mistborn Era 1 events from different perspective

reunions that will make you cry

we get SOME answers as well from Mistborn Era 1 and 2

Trigger warnings: violence

Marriage for One by Ella Maise

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, New Adult

Synopsis:

Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own. One second he was no one. The next he became everything. One second he was unattainable. The next he seemed to be completely mine. One second I thought we were in love. The next it was still nothing but a lie. After all, I was Rose and he was Jack. We were doomed from the very beginning with those names. Did you expect anything else?

Why we love it:

soft and bubbly female character

broody male character

fake marriage trope

slowburn + cutest romance with a lil’ bit of angst

development is A+++

Trigger warnings: n/a

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance. In a land where summers can last decades and winters a lifetime, trouble is brewing. The cold is returning, and in the frozen wastes to the north of Winterfell, sinister and supernatural forces are massing beyond the kingdom’s protective Wall. At the center of the conflict lie the Starks of Winterfell, a family as harsh and unyielding as the land they were born to. Sweeping from a land of brutal cold to a distant summertime kingdom of epicurean plenty, here is a tale of lords and ladies, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and bastards, who come together in a time of grim omens. Here an enigmatic band of warriors bear swords of no human metal; a tribe of fierce wildlings carry men off into madness; a cruel young dragon prince barters his sister to win back his throne; and a determined woman undertakes the most treacherous of journeys. Amid plots and counterplots, tragedy and betrayal, victory and terror, the fate of the Starks, their allies, and their enemies hangs perilously in the balance, as each endeavors to win that deadliest of conflicts: the game of thrones.

Why we love it:

high fantasy political drama

well-written dialogue

if you’re already a fan of the TV show, the book gives you an even more detailed account of events with characters POVs while these key moments play out

amazing world building and backstory with so much thought and detail

GRRM has successfully achieved a whole new universe

full of backstabbing, bloody battles and political intrigue

multiple POVs

Trigger warnings: rape, sexual abuse of a minor, graphic violence, sexual violence, incest, misogyny

#book recs #dailylit #nadaily #bookworm #bibliophile #lgbtqa literature #books #the lady's guide to celestial mechanics #central park pact series #asoiaf #mistborn #marriage for one #pick of the month

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theserpentlife · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1: The Fall

hey loves, so here’s the first chapter of my riverdale rewrite based on this storyline and character synopsis i did awhile back. this is my first time writing fiction like ever and it was really fun and i hope you guys enjoy it and let me know what you guys. send me nice messages pls.

Recommended Song to accompany read; Always forever - The Cults

As the raging summer takes its last humid breath, trees morph from tones of lush greens into assorted hues of red and gold. Brightly tinted maple leaves fall from the trees like confetti, a triumphant declaration of the beginning of the crisp and cool autumn. The season of fall had come to Riverdale, a small town nestled inconspicuously on the northern border. The season of autumn held great significance for the townspeople. It marked the beginning of the new school year for the town’s youth. A change of hands between the elder of the teens who would be leaving town for their college lives and the younger bright-eyed ones on the cusps of their new lives as high school students.

Fall was also the prime harvesting season for the town’s number one export - it’s rich tapestry of sickly sweet maple syrup. An abundance of sticky gold bled bountifully out of the trunks of the tall maple trees that surrounded the town. Steeped in decades of tradition and history, the Blossom Maple Farms, founded by the descendants of the Blossom Family, was truly the bedrock of the town’s economy.

In the winter of 1998, under the celestial glow of the full moon, the next in line to the empire would be born. An heiress. Cheryl Blossom had skin as pale as snow and hair as red as flames. As soon as she had left the confines of her mother's womb she had already committed a grave sin - being born a daughter to parents who had prayed ceaselessly for a son. Imagine the wrath that rained on her after Penelope was told she could no longer bear any other children. Cheryl Blossom’s very existence marked the end of the Blossom bloodline.

__________

Archie Andrews threw his freshly pressed light blue shirt over his broad shoulders and slowly worked his way up the buttons. As soon as he reached the very last one on the top, a bizarre scene unfolded in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. He saw that his hands were replaced with much paler ones, nails long and exquisitely polished in a deep red color. The air around him had suddenly gone cold. He was paralyzed by the sight before him and yet he could not look away. It was as if the cool wind had frozen him in place too. A sickeningly sweet aroma swarmed around him and his eyes darted anxiously as if trying to trace its source before fixating on his reflection once more. The mysterious hand was now gone and so was the smell. Archie swallowed hard at the lump that had gathered in his throat. It was probably just his imagination playing tricks on him, he reasoned. After all, he spent most of the night before tossing and turning in bed.

He takes a handful of his watered-down hair wax and slathers it generously onto his saffron hued locks. As expected the wax doesn’t take well to his hair. "Damn it." He grunts in annoyance before slathering another dollop, this time running his hands through his hair with increasingly aggressive strokes. His rage interrupted by a sudden weight pressing down on his right shoulder. His fear-ridden body jumps in response to the unwelcomed stimuli. “Woah Arch, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me come in.” It was Betty Cooper. “You okay?” Betty's brows were furrowed softly in concern. Archie's usual warm and rosy complexion was drained of all its color. She ran her hands across the length of his back in soft and soothing strokes. Her touch did wonders in soothing him. “Y-yeah I’m good.” "You sure?" "Yeah, Bets." this time Archie manages to conjure up a soft smile. Betty mirrors her childhood sweetheart melting into a soft smile herself. Her eyes trail the entire length of Archie’s body before fixating on his hazel brown eyes. “You look handsome.” she cooed. Archie couldn’t help but break into a light chuckle before averting his gaze away from her crystal blue eyes. Archie always had a habit of looking away or biting his lips whenever he felt sheepish and Betty loved that about him.

She brushed back the loose strands of hair that had fallen on his forehead and adjusted his navy blue varsity jacket, making sure to dust off any loose traces of lint. He instinctively stepped forward, eliminating the distance between them wanting nothing more but to take in the familiar aroma of her rose-scented perfume and the slight traces of her magnolia shampoo. He lifted his hands to embrace her face, thumbs softly stroking the pink of her cheeks. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Betty Cooper.”

______________

It’s twenty minutes before the start of the first period and the schoolyard is teeming with cliques of excited teens all engrossed in exchanging stories about how they had spent their summer. Right across the street, a sleek black BMW pulls into the street. Its tinted windows rolled down to reveal a raven-haired teen peering discreetly at the scene before her.

“Andre, my dear, you can stop the car here.”

“But Miss-”

“It’s okay Andre, I prefer to walk.”.

Veronica Lodge had a plan. After her family's not-so-graceful fall from high society in New York, Veronica wanted nothing more than to detach herself from the shame of her past life. Opting instead to forge a new one for herself. She looked down to inspect her outfit one last time. A simple black dress, sinched fashionably at the waist with a thin violet belt. Her hands found its way to her collarbone and lingered on her bare skin where her prized pearl necklace used to lay.

"No need to pick me up later. I'll see you at the Pembrooke." Andre nodded, pausing thoughtfully for a second before flashing a warm smile at Veronica's reflection in the front view mirror. "Have a nice day at school, miss." she heard Andre say before closing the car door behind her. Nice day. I sure hope so she thought. Veronica wasn't expecting much from her new life in Riverdale, after all, she wasn't planning on staying for long. She figured it was best if she kept a low profile and made a graceful exit when it came time for her family to return to their lives in New York. No attachments, no drama. The lesser her classmates knew about her the better.

Inscribed in gold on the school’s brick facade read “Riverdale High”. Here goes nothing. As soon as she pushed open the rust-tinted front doors, she found herself right in the middle of it all. Students gathered in front of their lockers, chatting with friends and getting their books in order. All eyes were drawn to her immediately. You see in a small town like Riverdale, everybody knew everybody. They all shared the same street, grew up in the same schools. It was an understatement to say that she stood out like a sore thumb. She eased into a slight smile hoping it would soften her image, but her attempts were received with snickers and ridicule instead. There was no time for pleasantries anyway, the first period was coming up and she hadn't found her locker yet. “431.431.431” she repeated as her eyes scanned the row of deep blue lockers on either side of the hallway. “Veronica Lodge?” She froze in her tracks as if struck by a freeze gun. No way. Was it someone she knew? Perhaps someone from New York? This couldn't be happening. Her cover already blown and all before the first period?

She turned slowly on her heels to meet her fate and to her surprise and great relief it was a new face, someone she hadn't met before. Standing before her was an all-too-enthusiastic, blonde ponytail donning Betty Cooper. “I’m Betty Cooper, I’m on the welcoming committee. I’m supposed to give you a tour of the school? You know get you oriented on our programs and clubs and where the restrooms are...”. Her cheerful demeanor and upbeat voice threw Veronica off. I guess she wasn't used to the warm hospitality. An ambiguously awkward period of silence passed between the two before Betty let out a nervous laugh, embarrassment coloring her cheeks a bright pink. “Right Betty, nice to meet you". Veronica extended her hand for a handshake and Betty gladly returned the gesture.

“So, have you found your locker yet?”.

“No, actually, I’ve been walking in circles for the past five minutes. Do you know where 431 is?" Betty nodded and mouthed an Ah-hah before leading Veronica further down the hall. “431, here we are.”. Veronica entered the code for the lock and viola her life at Riverdale High had officially begun.

________

“So here we have the girls’ locker room, that's the gym hall over there, and the cafeteria is just down the hall to the left.”. The all-inclusive Riverdale High campus tour was in full swing, led by Riverdale's golden girl no less. Veronica nodded nonchalantly, a polite gesture in acknowledgment of Betty's forthcoming reception. Veronica, however, took little effort to remember the details of the tour seeing as her time at Riverdale High would be brief.

“Oh, and this is the Blue & Gold-" Veronica's ear perked at the noticeable boost in enthusiasm in Betty's tone. You'd think the blonde couldn't get any peppier than this. "You’ll find me here most of the time, I’m the Chief Editor here.”. The pair stepped into the dimly-lit space, a small classroom haphazardly converted into a publishing center for the school's paper. Tall dusty shelves lined the corners of the room with volumes of worn and aged books displayed sparsely on its bones. Their workstations buried in tall stacks of paper, several empty coffee mugs, and typewriters. Talk about old-fashioned. Who knew moving to a small town meant going back in time. “You know we’re always looking for writers so if-” “No thanks, I’m not much of a writer myself,” Veronica interjects, ‘But...I love what you’ve done with the place,” she rejoined, feeling her initial rejection of Betty's offer was rather crass for the good-hearted blonde.

Seated at the very corner of the space was Jughead Jones. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the edge of his sharp nose. He sips his black coffee with one hand while the other dances frantically over the keyboard of his MacBook. Paying absolutely no heed to the presence of the two. “Jughead, this is Veronica Lodge she’s-” “New girl I know.” he interrupts, not even bothering to pry his gaze from his laptop to meet theirs. “This is Jughead, he’s one of the best writers in this school. His pieces are phenomenal.”.

“Well, I guess I should start reading the school paper then.” Veronica thought she should offer a light compliment, perhaps as a way to break the ice. She reached out her freshly manicured hand to shake his but was met with an unfazed Jughead still blissfully engrossed in his writing. She retrieved her hand, ego sorely bruised by the boy's crude demeanor. It took everything in her not to roll her eyes and return his hostility with a snarky remark. But she was new Veronica and new Veronica was not going to make an enemy out of her classmate on the very first day of Sophmore year.

Just as Betty was about to usher Veronica out, they hear Jughead read the summary of his latest piece aloud. A seemingly innocent behavior laced with malice of course. A deliberate attempt to rattle the cage. You see Jughead Jones was a bit of a sadist, getting a kick out of ticking people off every once in a while. He reclined into his seat, fingers interlocked behind his head as he began the narration of his latest piece. “Dark and mysterious family moves into town on the very same night Riverdale's scarlet heiress Cheryl Blossom goes missing - an awful coincidence perhaps?” “Jug!” a wide-eyed Betty scolds.

“Excuse me?” Veronica glared in disbelief. “Oh, it’s just a piece I’m working on about the disappearance of Cheryl Blossom.” Jughead gets up from his seat to come face to face with a fuming Veronica. His cold blue eyes peering straight through her dark ones. She couldn't help but scoff at Jughead's ridiculous attempt at yellow journalism.

“So let me get this straight, you think I body-snatched some girl I don’t even know, just so I could take her place in some local high school in the middle of nowhere?” Jug shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just a working theory.”. Unbelievable! The guy practically knew her for all of five minutes and already he’s pegging her for a kidnapper. “Come on Veronica, let's go.” Betty ushered Veronica out of the room before looking back once more to shoot Jug a disapproving look.

“Betty, I have a question.”

"Yup?" the blonde hummed, eyes glued to the pages of her baby blue leather notebook. She ran her index finger down the rows of her handwritten agenda making sure she had covered all the bases of Veronica's orientation tour. "Who the hell is Cheryl Blossom?”. Betty blinked up at Veronica, her organized thoughts completely disarrayed. She wasn't prepared for this. Cheryl Blossom's disappearing act of the summer was not on the agenda for today and frankly, she didn't know how to describe Cheryl, well not with decent adjectives at least. "Well, she umm... she's-". Betty fumbled over her words before giving up completely seeing as Veronica herself was absorbed in the sight before them. A locker plastered with personal messages and flowers with a row of lit candles lined up neatly at its foot. A bright red banner hung from the ceiling just above it reading "Come home, Cheryl.".

_____________________________________

ok so should i continue with a chapter 2 or lets can this mess - what do ya’ll think? sound off in the comments.

#riverdale #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #archie andrews #betty cooper #veronica lodge #jughead jones #cheryl blossom

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enchantedchocolatebars · 5 years ago

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Good Omens Chibi Headcanons Part 3

Headcanons for when Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley interact with each other. (Got inspired by cute chibi fanarts I saw on here made by artists with the usernames asunnydisposish and kimmigawa.) THANK YOU TO @luna-sheep FOR READING THIS FOR ME!👍

Part1: https://enchantedchocolatebars.tumblr.com/post/186828312632/good-omens-chibi-headcanons-part-1

Part2: https://enchantedchocolatebars.tumblr.com/post/186898556182/good-omens-chibi-headcanons-part-2

Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley:

• They mainly speak gibberish but they can sometimes say and use english words. Both their gibberish and english sound very cute!

• Tiny ineffable husbands/friends!

• Is it dumb luck? Yin and yang? Or the Almighty simply working in mysterious ways? Whatever it was, when Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley work together, there's nothing they can't do! Size isn't even an issue!

• They have their own best friend handshake! (It's really cute and it ends with them making a hand heart with each other's hand.)

• A best friend theme song that fits them perfectly is this! (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_jEsOxkT0iw)

• And the song that describes their relationship is this! (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=BnTthKo4bLg)

• Chibi Aziraphale thinks that Chibi Crowley is sooo cool! He also finds him to be really fun as well! The demon has taught him so many fun, new exciting human games such as "tag", "hide and seek" and one game that Chibi Crowley likes to call "playing tricks on the mortals". With that game, the angel didn't mind playing along, s-so as long as the pranks they pulled were harmless and no humans got hurt or injured by them. (Oh, and when playing tag or hide and seek, Chibi Aziraphale had to be really careful cause sometimes Chibi Crowley would get really excited when playing and would end up using his powers which caused a bit of havoc. The demon was oblivious to the destruction he was causing.) Chibi Aziraphale really appreciates Chibi Crowley's kindness! Sure, the demon tried coming off as if he's not, but Chibi Crowley was always doing nice things for his angel friend.

• Chibi Crowley likes Chibi Aziraphale's good natured personality since having it made it easier for him to tease and tempt his friend. While he enjoyed teasing and tempting the angel, the demon would never take it too far and often did it in a playful way. Chibi Crowley is also really glad that Chibi Aziraphale has a sweet tooth because now he's got someone to share his gummy snakes with! He knows that the angel was book smart due to him spending most of his time in the bookshop with Aziraphale, but he also knew that the celestial being was innocently unaware of certain earthly things. The demon remembers once having to explain to Chibi Aziraphale what a toaster was.

• Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley put on a reenactment play about Aziraphale's and Crowley's friendship across the ages! They even wear costumes of the outfits that their big counterparts wore through those centuries. This was their first play so they had to make it something exciting, something classic, something that the audience would never forget! The performance was being held in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop. A toy theatre stage was set up on the table and Aziraphale, Crowley, and Chibi Aziraphale's Harry the Stuffed Rabbit plush were the audience. The lights in the room dim and the spotlights shine on the curtain. The curtain is then opened, and the show starts! When saying their lines, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley used a mix of both gibberish and english. From the audience, Aziraphale acts like a supportive parent at their child's first ever school play cheering, applauding, and shrieking in utter excitement almost every time his chibi says or does something in a scene. This makes Chibi Aziraphale smile and wave at his big friend each time on stage. "He's so cute and talented, isn't he?" Aziraphale would whisper to Crowley, referring to Chibi Aziraphale. Did Crowley notice little errors, faults, and flaws in the play? Yes but...he just couldn't dislike it. He still appreciated the effort and dedication the two chibis put into it. I mean, the performances themselves weren't too bad, the sets, costumes, music and props seemed alright, and the two tiny entities did look like they were having alot of fun with the whole thing despite the very small audience. His favorite parts had to be seeing his chibi be over the top playing as him. It made him smile and he couldn't help but chuckle at the smaller demon's exaggerated acting. The play itself was just Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley trying their best to be accurate, but they end up making it their own cute, comedic remake due to most scenes being over the top and exaggerated, them adding in little random things that didn't exactly happen and them having characters who were also in certain eras ( like Adam and Eve, Jesus, Jean-Claude, Shakespeare, The Nazis, the group of thieves and criminals, etc.) as either small toys, small stuffed animals, small cardboard cutouts, chibi sized hand puppets or inanimate objects who they also sometimes had to play as/pretend to be. Some might say that it's impossible for a play to work with only two people in it, but somehow the chibis do, and it's very adorable.

• Imagine them doing a reenactment of the entire show.

• Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley had been to alot of fun places in London before, but their all time favorite place where they had the most fun had to be the fun fair. (The toy shop was their second favorite, the zoo was third and the sweet shop was fourth.) An over-excited Chibi Crowley appears in the book shop one day to show Chibi Aziraphale a really cool poster that he found that showed an advertisement for a fair that was in London and suggests that the two of them go! The demon's never been to an actual fair before, but he's seen tons of commercials for them on TV at the flat and they looked like alot of fun. The angel's never been to a fair before either, but the pictures on the poster did make the place seem like alot of fun. To him, the place looked like one big playground! He agrees to go, and when the two arrive there Chibi Aziraphale is immediately fascinated by everything! Seeing the extremely interested look on his friend's face makes Chibi Crowley smile as he takes the heavenly being's hand and leads him to the attractions. The two have a wonderful time riding the carousel horses/other small mechanical rides and bouncing up and down on the inflatable bouncy castle. After that, they go looking around for more fun things to do. Chibi Crowley spots a haunted house horror ride and gets an excited twinkle in his eye! The demon absolutely adores spooky things! Big spooky fan, him! (He gets it from Crowley.) Chibi Aziraphale on the other hand...not so much. Being that he's easily frightened by stuff, (especially scary stuff) the dark, creepy look of the attraction gave him goose bumps, and at first he wasn't willing to get on. Well, that is until Chibi Crowley somehow tempts him into going on the ride with him. Now riding the ride, Chibi Crowley was pumped, Chibi Aziraphale the exact opposite. On the angel's side, ghosts and ghouls pop up at him in a jumpscare fashion, making a loud, frightening sound, followed by zombies and spiders doing the same on Chibi Crowley's side, then a collection of monsters and other spooky things all around. Each display causes Chibi Aziraphale to squeal in fear while Chibi Crowley squealed in delight. The demon even made frightening noises back at the monsters. After the last display, Chibi Aziraphale is still a little scared, but he's very glad that the ride was finally over. In the house of mirrors, the two chibis were fascinated by the mirrors abilities to make their reflections appear big and tall! When they leave, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley both see a photo booth. Excited, they rush inside the booth and take several photos. In the first photo, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley smile, a halo filter above the short angel's head and a devil horns filter above the short demon's head with the captions reading "Best Buds!" "BFF's!" and "Literal Angels!" In the second photo, they both flex their muscles, and the caption reads "So Strong!" In the third photo, Chibi Aziraphale laughs as Chibi Crowley hangs upside down, tongue hanging out and eyes rolling crazily. The caption reads "Silly!" In the fourth photo, this time Chibi Aziraphale makes a silly face and Chibi Crowley is the one who laughs. The caption reads "Also silly!" In the fifth and final photo, Chibi Aziraphale smiles and holds up the peace sign and Chibi Crowley grins playfully while holding up bunny ears above the angel's head. Emoji heart filters surround them with a caption that reads "Ineffable babies!" At sunset, at a game booth, a dart is thrown and pops a balloon. A boy with a blue baseball cap has made the throw and ends up winning a prize for his girlfriend. Chibi Aziraphale points to a giant white teddy bear angel and wants for Chibi Crowley to win it for him. The little demon gives the angel a small nod and a thumbs up. He then uses his powers to launch all the darts and pops every single balloon. A loud bell rings and a "winner" sign lights up as Chibi Aziraphale cheers for Chibi Crowley. They win the bear and Chibi Aziraphale gives his demon buddy a big thank you hug. Chibi Crowley tries to hide his smile but can't. At night, the two are taking a stroll. Chibi Crowley was pulling a little red toy wagon that the giant angel teddy that he had won for Chibi Aziraphale was sitting in. As he looks up at the carnival lights, Chibi Aziraphale moves his hand towards Chibi Crowley's hand, gently takes it and begins holding it. The move catches little Crowley off guard, but he quickly smiles when he sees the angel is at ease. Feeling playful, the demon swings his held hand back and forth a bit. The two were heading towards the ferris wheel as their final ride. A fireworks show is in full swing! The sky was filled with them! Chibi Aziraphale, Chibi Crowley, and the teddy bear were sitting together in one of the ferris wheel cars watching the show. Chibi Aziraphale watches the show in complete amazement! This was his first time ever seeing fireworks before. When the angel asks Chibi Crowley what those beautiful bright coloured lights that kept making loud noises in the sky were, the demon says to him that they're called fireworks. He tells Chibi Aziraphale that big Crowley had once told him that fireworks were these giant explosions in the sky, and the reason they exploded was because they contained this stuff that the humans put inside it called gunpowder. Chibi Aziraphale sighs blissfully at the sky. He loves the earth so much, the planet was filled with so many amazing things! He hopes that one day he and Chibi Crowley will get to see all the wonderful things this world had.

#imagine if all the other characters had chibis too #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable chibi husbands #chibi au #live action shows #headcanons #writing #my writing #not a cartoon

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darkobsidianquill · 5 years ago

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Harry Potter and the descent into Darkness.

Chapter Twenty

On Monday, during his visit to Voldemort's manor, Harry succeeded in apparating across the ballroom, once. He was a bit off on his destination – missing his intended spot by about five feet, but for his first successful attempt, it wasn't bad.

As he was preparing to leave, Voldemort informed him that once he had apparition down, the two of them were going to begin dueling lessons and discussing the magical theory behind the dark arts. Harry just stared back at the dark lord with a dropped jaw and stunned silence. The Dark Lordwanted to teach him dueling and dark arts?

After a scathing scolding about looking like an idiot and being instructed to pick his jaw up off the ground, Harry was dismissed and used the time-turner before using the portkey back to Hogwarts.

Harry used his cloak to slip back into the school, the same as he did every day after his lunch-time visits to Voldemort's manor, and met back up with Ron, only a minute after his earlier self disappeared into a bathroom. The pair made their way up to Divination, and with each step Harry felt his anticipation growing.

He was going to try Voldemort's suggestion today, and he couldn't help the feeling in his gut that he was actually going to get somewhere that day. He scolded himself for being stupid enough to get his hopes up, but couldn't quite manage to squash the feeling away.

As the class gathered in the room, it became obvious that the smoke scrying section was done because Trelawney had rearranged the seats again back to their usual places and the big fire pit in the center of the room was gone.

When she called the class to attention, Trelawney began a long-winded talk about using the inner eye to see into a person's soul that Harry was quickly tuning out.

"The Human Aura is made up of seven main Human aura's which extend up to four feet from the Human body. These aura's all occupy the same space at the same time, each Human aura extending out further than the previous aura. All Human aura's are interconnected and reliant on the others for normal function," Trelawney was saying in that annoying low 'mysterious' sounding voice she used.

"The astral human aura extends about eight to twelve inches from the physical body and appears as brightly coloured rainbow clouds. The astral human aura is the bridge between the physical world and the spiritual world.

"The mental human aura extends about four to eight inches from the physical body and is usually a bright shade of yellow in colour. Within this Human aura are our thoughts and mental processes. The more active our thinking processes the brighter our mental Human aura becomes. Within this Human aura can be found thought forms. "

Harry tuned out her lecture, choosing instead to try catching the professor's eye and see if he could maintain eye contact long enough to slip inside her head for a quick look-around. Unfortunately, Trelawney didn't seem terribly interested in looking at him at that moment, and just kept right on talking and talking about different auras and how many inches they existed from the body, as if that meant something to any of them.

About twenty minutes later, she told them to partner up, and cut off all lighting in the room except for the 'natural light' that came in through the windows, which still had thing hangings draping over them, giving the room a rather dim look.

Harry sighed heavily and turned to face Ron. She gave them instructions and told them what page to turn to in their textbooks before telling them to start.

Ron said he was too confused and insisted that Harry give it a go first. Harry read the page in the book, since he hadn't paid any attention to Trelawney's annoying ramblings. Finally he focused on Ron and gave it a go.

"Let's see... well... I think for the Etheric Aura I'm seeing er.." Harry looked down at the book before looking back up at Ron. "Delft blue? That means you've got strong ethics. A strong deep blue also suggests that you're in good physical health. I think. For your Mental Aura I'm seeing... sort of a sienna color I'd say." Harry looked down at the book and then had to hold back a bark of laughter.

"Whut?" Ron asked, seeing Harry's expression.

"Oh um... well, the book says that Raw Sienna indicates poor thinking process," Harry mumbled through the tight grin he was trying to force off his face.

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. What's next?"

"Um, well, your Etheric Template Aura looks purple... like grape, I guess."

"What's that one mean?"

Harry looked down at the book and then flipped the page.

"Er... Laziness."

"Pfft," Ron said, rolling his eyes again. "Next?"

"Well, your Ketheric Template Aura looks like Amber," Harry continued and then referenced the book again. "Ah. That one means strong personal courage."

Ron grinned at this one. Another minute and Harry had gone through all the different auras for Ron.

"Alright, alright. Let me do you," said Ron. He sat forward and skimmed over the book page one more time before turning his focus on Harry.

"Alright your er... Etheric Aura issss...kind of maroon-ish." Ron looked down at the book. "That means self empowerment. Your Emotional Aura is sort of like carmine. And the book says... carmine is for people seeking change. You seeking change, Harry?"

Harry shrugged and Ron moved on. "You're mental aura is... sort of like mustard, I'd say." Ron looked back down at the book and flipped to the next page where the list continued. He frowned and screwed up his face. "Well that's not right."

"What?" Harry asked, hesitantly.

"Says Mustard is usually seen on people who are really manipulative. Pfft. This stuff is such rubbish. Moving on," he said dramatically and flipped back a page. "You're uh... Etheric Template Aura is... sort of a light yellow-green. Like lemon-green." Again he consulted the book, and again he frowned at it before rolling his eyes.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Well, it says that lemon-green is for people who are cheats and liars. Maybe it's more like pale green? That's spiritual advancement. It's definitely not iridescent green, and that's for friendly people. Ah, here we go. Lemon yellow, that's strength of direction. That sounds more like it."

"Heh... yeah," Harry said, feeling a bit more wary by the minute.

"Aaandd... your Celestial Aura is..." Ron trailed off before screwing up his face a lot. "I've got to be reading this one wrong. Oh... oh, well maybe not."

"What?" Harry asked, feeling rather unsettled.

"Well it looks... black."

"What's black mean?"

"It says that there are two types of people who end up with black in their celestial aura. Um... well, murderers, and people who've really hurt other people, or who have it in them to kill people –"

Harry's eyes went wide and for a moment he thought his heart had stopped beating.

"– and people who've been either abused a lot or tortured," Ron finished, looking back up at Harry, hesitantly.

Harry blinked at Ron, holding a neutral expression on his face. "Oh."

"Er... yeah," Ron mumbled before clearing his throat. "Anyway, this aura stuff is rubbish. Think that's sufficient to get Trelawney off our backs?"

"Yeah, just don't tell her that you saw black on mine. I'm sure she'll find some way to interpret that to mean I'm going to die a horrible death under the cruciatus or something."

Ron snorted.

Harry and Ron both started to write down the notes from what they'd 'seen' during the class exercise, and Harry sat there, waiting for Trelawney to come over to speak with them.

Harry made sure to write down as much detail as he could from what he'd 'seen' of Ron's various auras so that he'd have a lot of stuff to say to her once she got over. Finally she left Lavender and Padma's group and came over to where Ron and Harry were sitting opposite each other.

She asked them how their reading went and Ron said a little bit, but was vague and mumbly. Trelawney was less than impressed and turned on Harry rather quickly. The second she made eye contact, Harry slipped into her mind and began a furious search for anything pertaining to the prophecy that he had personally witnessed the previous spring.

His search turned up instant results, much to his surprise and elation. He found the memory of her speaking the prophecy about the servant returning to his master and could tell right away that it had a very different feel to it than the rest of her memories that he'd breezed through. It was like it was on a different wavelength, and it was buried under a layer that her conscious mind didn't quite see. Harry slipped away from the prophecy memory, but stayed in the same general location of her mind and began to look for other memories that had the same strange feeling to it.

He was glad to discover that there weren't a lot of them. Trelawney obviously didn't make legitimate prophecies very often, and it was obvious that most of those that she did make were done when alone and there was no one around to even hear them.

Finally he came across one of the prophetic memories that took place in a very familiar setting. Dumbledore's office.

It was in Dumbledore's office. Not the pub. In fact, none of her memories of actual prophecies took place inside the Hog's Head. He pulled the one in Dumbledore's office to the forefront and quickly began to watch it. It began with Trelawney going rigid and her voice becoming suddenly very gravely. Dumbledore sat up to attention, suddenly watching her with far more interest than his demeanor a moment earlier had.

She began to speak –

The only one with the power to match the Dark Lord approaches...

Born to those who have thrice defied him,

Born as the seventh month dies...

The Dark Lord will come for him and mark him as his equal.

He will –

"Harry?"

Harry blinked and gave a start at suddenly being jerked from Trelawney's mind.

"Are you alright Mr. Potter?" Professor Trelawney asked as she peered down at him with her enormous, magnified eyes.

He quickly tried to slip back into her mind; desperate too see what came next, but she looked away and he cursed her in his own mind, as he wished he could do it in reality.

"You just zoned out there for a minute," Ron was saying, "You were talking and then you just sort of... stopped. Are you sure you're alright?"

Harry fought the urge to snap at the red head and forced a calm smile on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just sort of out of it today. Not getting enough sleep, I guess."

"You're not having nightmares again, are you?" Ron asked in a whisper as he leaned in closer.

"No, no. Nothing like that. I'm fine, really."

Harry turned his head and watched as Trelawney walked over to Dean and Seamus and began to speak with them. He realized he was clenching his jaw in frustrated anger, and he could feel his magic beginning to boil deep within him, furiously. The urge to curse something, violently, was roaring in his head, and he knew he needed to calm himself down quickly, or he might loose control of himself. He was so frustrated! He had been so close! So fucking close!

He needed to calm down. He needed to relax. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing and push his angry magic back down inside.

It wasn't working.

He took another deep breath, trying to remember what it felt like to have Voldemort's fingers combing through his hair, and as soon as he successfully brought the memory to the surface, he felt some of the tension leaving him.

He continued to focus on the imagined feeling of long slender fingers trailing across his scalp, and the steady sound of the Dark Lord breathing during his meditation exercises and Harry finally felt like his head was clear enough to think again.

One thing was for sure, that prophecy was not the exact same as the one that Voldemort had heard. He'd also gotten one more line from it than Voldemort already knew. And the Dark Lord will come for him and mark him as his equal.

Mark him as his equal? Well, Harry was marked. That was probably referring to his scar. And while Harry held no delusions about being a magical equal to the Dark Lord, there was the fact that Harry possessed a portion of Voldemort's soul. Did that make them equal on some level? Since the soul and the scar were connected, perhaps that's what that line was referring to?

He needed to get the rest of it! He was going to have to find an opportunity alone with Trelawney and force some sort of situation where she couldn't get away from him until he'd gotten everything he needed from her mind.

Harry decided to visit Voldemort again later that evening and ask him for any advice. He could sense that he was on the brink of something huge, and now that he knew he could actually get it from her head, he wasn't going to give up until he had what he wanted.

The frustrating part was that he was going to have to wait a few hours because his earlier self was still at the manor, at that very moment, not having even apparated for the first time yet. Harry couldn't return to the manor until after his earlier incarnation had left, because there couldn't be two Harry's there at the same time.

Harry refocused, or at least tried to refocus on the class work. He spent the remainder of the class trying, repeatedly, to make eye contact with Trelawney, and not once succeeding in getting into her head. It was exceedingly frustrating.

After class let out, Harry and Ron made their way towards the Great Hall; meeting up with Hermione in the hall on the way. Harry stabbed at his food angrily while checking his mechanical wristwatch every few minutes, practically counting down to the time he had left the manor earlier.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's voice came through, drawing his attention away from the mutilated potato on his plate.

"Huh? Oh yeah... just... tired."

"You seem really... distracted," she said, hesitantly.

"I just..." he foundered, his mind was too jumbled and preoccupied to come up with convincing lie to tell her. "I don't know what's up. I just feel antsy," he said, ducking his head and scowling at his watch again. Fifteen minutes...

"You know... I think I really just need to go for a walk. I need to clear my head and sort out what's eating at me. Do you guys mind?" Harry said, giving them a pleading, apologetic look, hoping it would keep them from getting too suspicious.

Hermione and Ron shared a Look, but then turned back to Harry and nodded. Hermione looked worried, but didn't say anything else. Harry packed up his bag and stood to his feet. He would start walking around the grounds towards the edge of the wards and portkey to the manor as his watch showed it was the same time that it had been when he'd entered the time-turner room, several hours earlier.

– –

Voldemort watched as Harry Potter disappeared into the time-turner closet and felt the exact moment the boy's magic disappeared from the manor. He had been impressed with how fast Potter picked up on the various lessons he had taught him. Once things had been explained to him properly, he could catch on quite quickly. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around some concepts, but he had an instinctive control over his magic, and once he started to understand the ideas, the magic obeyed his will without any resistance.

His development and control was on par with Voldemort's own education during his teen years. Faster even, but of course, Voldemort had had to teach himself most of these things when he was younger. Potter had the advantage of a proper instructor, so it was understandable that he would be catching on quicker.

Three lessons and Potter had already managed to appratate.

Voldemort grinned to himself before pausing and frowning. Was he... proud, of the boy? He was. How odd.

He turned and began to make his way up the stairs towards his study. Mixey would have dinner ready soon, and he wanted to get a few things done before –

The thought was suddenly cut off by the sudden reappearance of Potter's magical energy and the sound of a portkey popping in from behind him. He turned around and found Potter standing there with that wrinkled pucker in his forehead that he got when he was frustrated. The look was instantly replaced with a huge relieved smile as he noticed the Dark Lord standing there at the foot of the stairs. The intensity of the boy's smile, and the foreign feeling it inspired in Voldemort's chest, shocked him for a moment.

He quickly squashed it and gave Potter a questioning look.

"You're back awfully soon," he observed suspiciously.

"It drove me crazy having to wait until I knew my other self had already left. I got into Trelawney's head today in class! I found the prophecy but the bloody bint blinked and turned away from me before I could hear the whole thing!"

"You found it?" Voldemort exclaimed.

"Yes! It was there! But there is definitely something seriously fishy going on. I found it in the section of her subconscious where her mind stores all of her legitimate prophecies, and it had the exact same feel to it that the memory of the prophecy I heard last year about Wormtail, so I know it's real. The thing is that it was not in the Hog's Head! It was in Dumbledore's office! And the portion of it that I did manage to hear wasn't exactly the same as the one your Death Eater overheard. It was really close, but some of the wording was different."

Voldemort had to take pause at this. What did it mean?

"In what way was it different? Tell me the exact wording."

"Okay, it went, 'The only one with the power to match the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord will come for him and mark him as his equal. He will... and then I got ejected from her head by bloody Ron Weasley yelling at me. Trelawney blinked and then moved on to the next group. I wanted to curse the hell out of both of them."

Voldemort had stopped paying attention to Potter's grumblings as he went deep in thought over the changes to the lines. "The power to match the Dark Lord, not vanquish... interesting..."

"Yeah, I know! What the hell do you think is going on? You said you were positive that the one your spy had overheard was legitimate, but this one wasn't in a pub, and the wording is different."

"That last line is interesting too... mark you as my equal... well, I suppose its fairly obvious what that's referring to."

"My scar, and your soul."

"Precisely."

"I need to figure out a way to go digging through her head without interruption and without garnering suspicion. There's no way I can wait till next class. I'll go mental if I have to wait a whole week."

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. "Have you ever used any memory charms?"

Potter blinked. "Like obliviate? No. I've never really had the opportunity try it out."

"Perhaps you can pay her a visit in her office, and use a compulsion spell to get her to sit still long enough for you to have a nice thorough dig through her addled mind. When you've gotten what you need, simply obliviate her and tell her that you came and asked her for help with some assignment, she helped you and you're done. Simple as that."

Potter stood there looking thoughtful as he considered the Dark Lord's suggestion. "I could try it. I was hesitant to do anything that extreme against a member of the staff... I was afraid it'd get noticed."

"Were it any other teacher, I'm sure it would, but that woman is an incompetent idiot. The only reason that Dumbledore has kept her in his employment is to protect her from me."

"Okay, but I've never cast that sort of compulsion charm on someone before. I've cast Pareo on someone, but that's a fairly powerful dark obedience spell, and I didn't think I could get away with that one inside the castle wards. I've put some simple compulsion charms on letters that I've sent my muggle aunt to force her to actually answer my questions, but that spell only works when cast onto an object, not something I could cast directly onto Trelawney... although, I suppose I could just put that charm on a piece of parchment and hand it to her... then I don't have to have my wand out and put her on her guard."

"Either way. I could easily teach you how to do the other types as well. You really should know how to perform a few different compulsion and control spells."

"I get the theory and I know the spell for a standard compulsion charm, I just haven't had any way of practicing it. I was hesitant to try out any spells like that in a risky situation without knowing if I could properly cast it or not."

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment before a wicked grin spread across his thin lips.

"WORMTAIL!" He bellowed loudly. Potter jumped slightly at the sudden yell, but Voldemort noticed that the boy's expression quickly shifted to one of amusement and gleeful anticipation.

A few second later a sputtering, chubby, balding, man came jogging down a corridor looking anxious and worried.

"Yes, my Lord?" He said, as his eyes darted back and forth from the Dark Lord to Potter with suspicion and fear.

"You will aid us tonight. I need to instruct Potter on some spells so he can retrieve something for me."

"Yes, my Lord. Anything you need," Wormtail cowered as he dipped his head.

"Good. Potter, Wormtail, come," Voldemort said as he began to briskly stride towards one of the empty rooms that he and Potter had used a number of times for spell practice.

Potter followed with a rather menacing grin spread across his face, and Wormtail's look of worry only seemed to grow every time he glanced over and saw it.

"What are you smirking about, brat?" Wormtail hissed under his breath as they continued to walk forward. Voldemort was a good five feet ahead of them, but he heard the remark anyway. His eyes narrowed as he glanced over his shoulder as he considered reprimanding his servant for his snark.

Potter's grin only grew wider. "You're going to being playing 'lab-rat' tonight. I just think it's rather appropriate," Harry said, airily. Wormtail bristled and looked as if he were about to try and retort something, but Voldemort reached the door, opened it and turned to glare at the short fat man. Wormtail was instantly cowed by the look and remained silent.

"This shouldn't take long. I suspect Potter will catch on quickly enough," he said as he turned from them and entered the room. The two followed; Potter with a confident gait and Wormtail with a hesitant cowering step.

The lesson progressed smoothly enough. Wormtail was understandably hesitant to allow the two of them to throw compulsion charms and obliviates at him, but he wasn't about to go against his Lord's direct orders, so he submitted, just as Voldemort knew he would.

Mixey interrupted them twenty minutes in, informing them that dinner was ready. Voldemort allowed Wormtail a 'break' to told him to go eat his dinner in his room, while he and Harry took their meals in the dining room.

Potter was entertaining in his enthusiasm. He was fascinated with how the different types of compulsion spells worked and the way the magic felt to cast. The more the boy spoke of how his magic 'felt' to him, the more intrigued the Dark Lord was. Very very few wizards were as in tune with their magic as Potter was. The way that he, himself, was. It seemed that their magics worked very much the same way, which made the line about being equals from the prophecy that much more curious and intriguing.

After their meal, he called Wormtail back into the room with them and had Potter try his hand at the Imperius curse. He couldn't use it on the Seer, because the school's wards would detect the use of any of the Unforgivables, but it was important that the boy know how to perform it anyway.

The second Potter had cast the spell correctly – which also happened to be his first try at it – the Dark Lord was once again impressed with how adept the boy was the darker spells. He almost always got them on his first attempt. He watched as Potter's eyes glazed over a bit and rolled up into his head as a look of elated euphoria spread across his features for a fraction of a second. Potter recovered quickly enough and his face was covered with a wicked grin.

"Merlin, I love that feeling," he said while a small giggle erupted from his chest.

"Feeling?" Voldemort asked curiously as he watched the boy's behavior. He was beginning to form some suspicions about the boy's magic and it was slightly concerning.

"The Darker spells... they... effect me, I guess," Potter said, pulling himself together and doing a few deep breaths to compose himself. "It's kind of crazy. I mean, in the beginning, when I first started playing around with the Dark Arts, I would totally lose myself to this sort of... crazed madness.This... euphoric haze of insanity, I guess. But it feels bloody amazing. It's indescribable. Anyway, your bit of soul inside me? He told me I needed to keep practicing so that I could gain control over it, so it wouldn't control me so much. That's one of the reason I made myself do exactly one hour of practice every evening. But no more than that. Only one hour. I wanted to do more, but he – your er... soul – he told me that restraining the amount of time I did it was part of gaining control."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. It was still strange to him at times to think that the portion of his soul locked within Potter actively communicated with the boy, but he was glad now that it had. There was no telling what the boy's mental state would be at the moment if he hadn't reigned the madness like that. The boy was clearly addicted to his own dark magic, but he seemed to have it relatively under control. Voldemort himself had had to deal with a dark addiction in his youth, and it took him considerably longer to get a handle on it. He was going to have to take this into account once he really began the boy's dark art's training.

Potter refocused his attentions on the Imperiused Wormtail and began forcing him to do various acts of self-humiliation, while giggling maniacally. The boy was extremely amusing to watch.

Potter lowered his wand and his giggles subsided with a content-sounding sigh. "Well, I've now officially earned myself three life sentences in Azkaban," Potter said with a chuckle.

Voldemort looked over at him and rose a single curious questioning eyebrow. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's a life sentence for every one of the Unforgivables, right?"

"You've cast an Unforgivable before?" Voldemort asked, his interest peaked.

"I didn't tell you about Skeeter?"

"Skeeter?"

"Ah, I guess I didn't. Do you know who Rita Skeeter is?"

"Isn't she a reporter for the Daily Prophet? There's been several articles in it lately reporting that she's... missing?" Voldemort ended with a slowly appearing smirk.

Potter's grin began to grow again. "Yeah. She's the nasty bint who wrote all those articles on me. She's also the one who outed me to the whole bloody world. Thing was that I just couldn't figure out how the hell she found out. She practically quoted a conversation I had with Fleur Delacour, but she and I had been totally alone at the time, and I read Fleur's mind later on to confirm that she hadn't been the one to run her mouth off.

"Right after the second task, I saw this big ugly water beetle in Hermione's hair and snatched it up, intending to flick it away or just squish it. But as soon as I touched it, I sensed a wizard's magical aura, so I stuck the beetle into a small magical container and kept it in my pocket till I could investigate it.

"Long story short, it turned out that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered animagus, and her form was that of a small beetle. No one knew she was at the school, or that she could turn into a tiny bug, so I figured there was almost no risk at all of anyone ever connecting her disappearing to me. So I took the little bug down into the chamber, forced her back into her human form, and used her as my own personal test subject. There were so many dark spells I'd been dying to try out on a real, living, person, but I hadn't been able to. Throwing spells at a giant dead snake is only so fulfilling. After a while it's just not very satisfying anymore." Potter ended with a bit of a pout and Voldemort barked a small laugh.

"So you used an Unforgivable on her?"

"Two. I used crucio a couple times, and holy shite what a rush! I can't even describe how... wow that was. I can see why it's so damned popular."

Voldemort smirked. "Yes, I've always been extremely partial to that one.

"Yeah, well, I basically just kept throwing stuff at her until she was no longer recognizable, and when I was finally satisfied that I was done with her, I used the killing curse. Worked on my first try."

"You're lying."

"Nope. I swear to Merlin, I got it on my first go."

"Smug little prick."

"How many times did it take you to cast the killing curse properly?" Potter asked, with legitimate curiosity in his eyes.

"My second casting."

"That's still bloody amazing. I mean, everything I read made it sound like I'd have to cast it dozens of times before I even got close to casting it properly."

"Most are unable to cast the killing curse. They simply do not have it in them."

"Well, you and I clearly do," Potter snickered.

They resumed the lesson and by the end of the hour Voldemort was sufficiently pleased with Potter's progress. He was sure that Potter would have no problems in getting the prophecy from the Seer now. He dismissed a disoriented Wormtail back to his quarters and walked Potter back to the time-turner room, still speaking the entire way there.

Potter acted as if he were on some sort of sugar-rush and was talking far more than he usually did. It was curious and yet also mildly amusing. His youthful enthusiasm was almost contagious, and Voldemort found himself snickering at the boy's jokes more than he would normally allow himself.

"Hey, if you ever decide that Wormtail has worn out his usefulness, do you think there'd ever be a chance I could obliviate the last year from his mind and hand him over to the Ministry?" Potter said as they walked down the hall.

Voldemort paused and gave the boy an incredulous look. "Why the hell would you do that? I thought that if you ever wanted to do anything with him, you would want to just kill him."

"Well, I'd love to do that too. Hell, I'd really enjoy that. But if I hand him over to the Ministry and can get my godfather cleared."

Again, Voldemort looked at the boy with a sense of confusion.

"And why, exactly, would I want Sirius Black cleared? You do realize that he was one of my more annoying opponents, don't you?"

"Was he really? Well, I guess he was an auror, wasn't he?" Potter said. "I guess, it's just that if he was cleared he could get custody of me and I wouldn't ever have to worry about someone trying to force me back to the Dursley's."

Voldemort scoffed quietly. "I sometimes forget that you're still so young. What does it matter if those fool muggles retain custody? They have custody of you now and yet you have no intention of going back to them. What difference does it make?"

Potter shrugged. "I don't know... I guess it's just sort of residual hope from last spring when Sirius first asked me if I wanted to go live with him. I really don't need, or even really want it much now, but it's still there. Besides, you should see how he's living now. It's horrible. He's literally hiding in a cave, living in rags and filth and practically starving to death."

Potter paused and observed Voldemort for a moment before smirking and rolling his eyes. "Okay, okay! I get that you didn't like the man but you don't have to look so smug about that."

Voldemort rose a single daring eyebrow, which made Potter snort and begin to chuckle.

"I may take your request into consideration, but I pose you a question –" Voldemort began.

"Alright," Potter responded with a nod and giving the Dark Lord his full attention.

"If Black's name is cleared and he gains custody of you, he would expect you to stay with him during the summers, yes?"

Potter looked thoughtful for a minute and frowned. "Yes, he would."

"You can persuade your muggle relatives to permit you to go where ever you please, so you will be able to come stay at the manor this summer, however you would not be able to do such a thing with Black. You wouldn't be able to come here."

"Shit," Potter grumbled and then heaved a heavy sigh. "You're right. Well screw it. Anyway, I guess I should get going. I've already eaten up almost your whole day."

"Yes you have," Voldemort drawled, causing Potter to grin.

"I'll see you tomorrow after lunch," Potter said as he leaned over and hissed the password to open the time-turner closet. "My free period is second block tomorrow; before lunch, so I'm going to try and visit Trelawney then. I don't think she has any morning classes, so I should be able to get in to see her."

"Good. I will expect a thorough report tomorrow."

Potter grinned and nodded his head. "You bet." He turned and slipped inside the closet while waving.

"Goodbye Harry," Voldemort said quietly as he saw the door begin to close. He caught the flicker of surprise from the boy's eyes from the open crack as the door slid closed.

A moment later Harry's magical signature disappeared and Voldemort once again felt that strange empty sensation that something was missing.

He huffed out an annoyed breath and turned away from the room. He needed to catch up on his tasks, so he quickly strode towards the staircase and up to his study.

– –

Harry climbed up into the Divination classroom and looked around. It was deserted, but he had expected as much. He'd overheard Lavender Brown speaking with her friends on several occasions about how Professor Trelawney refused to have classes before noon because of some ridiculous excuse about the inner eye or auras or something, that was really just an excuse for her refusal to get up before ten am.

He had also heard Lavender mentioning the divination groupies gathering in Trelawney's office before lunch for tea and biscuits on frequent occasion.

Harry strode across the divination classroom to the door in the back that he knew led to Trelawney's office. He turned and pointed his cypress wand at the hatch in the floor that was the entrance to the classroom and cast a quick locking spell on it. Next he turned to the office door and gave a gentle knock.

"Come in," came Trelawney's dreamy voice from the other side. Harry pushed the door open and quickly strode inside.

"Morning Professor," Harry said in a smooth, confident tone.

"Mr. Potter?" She blinked at him through her magnifying specs in obvious surprise and confusion before trying to rework her expression. "Ah, I was wondering when you would be coming to see me. I've Seen your desire to visit me for some time now."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure you have." He turned his back on her and pushed the office door closed, As he turned back to face her, he pulled his wand up and pointed it right at her.

"Compellere," he said in an authoritative voice as he aimed his wand at her head and focused his will upon her.

It was a relatively mild compulsion spell, that depended a great deal upon the wizard's personal strength and skill to be truly effective. Because of this, most wizards couldn't use it to force a person to do anything outside of their own reasonable will. This also meant that the spell was only just barely on the dark side of gray. Not a neutral spell, but still low enough on the list to not register with the wards as a dark art.

Harry pressed his will upon her with all his strength and watched as her eyes glazed over and a dumb little smile appeared on her face.

"Good, Professor. Very good," Harry said in a calm soothing voice as he walked over and sat in the chair opposite her desk. "Now you're going to sit there and look me in the eye and you're not going to blink until I'm done. Do we have an understanding?"

"Oh, yes, of course dear. Anything for my favorite student."

Harry made a slightly disturbed face, but pushed past it as he looked into her eyes and quickly slipped inside her mind..

#Harry Potter #Tom Riddle #Dark!Harry #Tomarry #Harry Potter and the descent into Darkness..

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gyrrakavian · 5 years ago

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Umberlee saved my goblin eldritch knight...

This was revealed two weeks ago in session, and I spent those two weeks trying to figure out why a sea goddess of chaos who is very much not known for mercy would save my little amnesiac archaeologist.

And then I tried to plug him into @jewishdragon‘s custom alignment chart. I asked for help placing him and started listing some of the things he’s done. Then, it dawned on me that despite diplomatic attempts (-1 Char mod) he’s caused quite a bit of general chaos.

The first town he got to with the party happened to be the same town that the therianthropic blood cult who tried to sacrifice him was based. Umberlee spared him from bleeding out (magic initiate feat explained).

Upon arriving in town, Bug made certain to wear the ceremonial headdress the cult placed on him for most of his time in public there. Not all of the townies were cultists, but they all recognized the sacrificial helmet and were all made very uncomfortable by it.

At the local tavern that night, there’s a card game and Bug ventures over to join. He puts his trademark scarab medallion up for this hand. Bug wins the hand, grabs his medallion and winnings, then ducks out of the card game pissing off all of the townies and some of the caravan involved. Including some weird blue-skinned dwarf (who may be related to Bug’s near-death).

The party fights a few of the were-cultists that night to prevent them from kidnapping caravan members. We successfully kill all five of them. Bug proceeds to severe the head of the wereboar and carries it around town strapped to his back the next day looking for someone with dermestid or scarab beetles to clean the skull off for him.

That also happened to be the day he ate our kobold chef’s golden curry (grants telepathy). Bug passed his save, the townies who decided to eat some because Bug seemed fine did not. [The DM has informed us we may have a newly awakened warlock or 2 on our hands if we ever go back through there.]

More chaos ensued once the caravan got got to Luxheim. Bug only caused some of it.

During 3 weeks of downtime, he scouted most if not the entire ruined city. He only got into two fights during that time (his Int is 15). The first being when our bloodhunter unwittingly freed a gunpowder ooze from a barrel no-one could read the label on. Bug kept using firebolt on it, demonstrating that goblin science is a combination of gnome science and kobold science. Then, the PCs had to save some lvl 1 NPCs from 2 large slimes in the sewers. Turns out Thunderwave is a novel way to get someone out of a gelatinous cube.

Bug and Bohala (dwarf fighter) mined some weird green and purple crystals while exploring. Thankfully the wild magic crystals just blared out music when the two of them used the biggest one to try to signal some dwarves Bohala invited from across the frozen bay.

A 50ft celestial shark ridden by a Kuatoa preist came cruising out of the city to the by when the dwarvish ironside steamer started firing at the skeletal wyvern showing up across the other side of the bay with Dirk the reasonable wraith. The massive shark went across the top of the water to attack the dwarves (explained later).

After commandeering a landing boat and getting the dwarf to get us out to the shark, the 3 of us who showed up managed to fight the giant shark and priest. Only our poor bloodhunter had to make con saves not to drown.

First we managed to kill the priest. Our skeletal bard turning the shark into a boat (DM’s call) really helped in that respect since it made it much more difficult for the sharp to roll like that.

Once we killed the kuatoa cleric, we had to contend with the 50t celestial shark who was now a shark again thanks to the huge waterweird it was bonded with breaking the bard’s concentration.

Bug managed to crawl into one of the shark’s gill slits and used Shape Water to make an air pocket for himself. Meanwhile the bard and the bloodhunter had to hang onto the shark as it dove and rolled.

Bug slashed and bit at the gill membrane (with disadvantage), used Thunderwave to little effect, and successfully got the killing blow burning an exit hole through the giant shark with Aganazzar’s Scorcher.

After getting the dwarves and the wraith settled, we looted the shark. Bug only wanted it’s 2ft long teeth since it didn’t have much of historical worth in its guts apart from some old paintings and a sealed chest with very clear warning labels (he passed his Wis-save to overcome his curiosity).

That encountered prompted Bug to try to figure out which deity had saved him (nat1). It was totally Peylor. Thankfully, the bloodhunter asked him why he thought that and figured out (nat20) that it was actually Umberlee before Bug started praying.

The dream he gets says, “Open the city. Let the path open.” Still no idea what that means.

Bug had a sword commissioned to be made from one of the celestial shark teeth with the symbol of Umberlee on it. A DM roll later, and Bug had a Sword of the Mysterious Stranger.

We find out about The Curator when Baron Geoff (the bard) manages to catch one of the crows. Bug is trying to be helpful and accidentally spills the beans on some things. So we had to figure out where the Curator’s goons were going to go a raid it first. We narrowed it down to an island with Kuatoa in the harbor and an old battlefield Bug had a map for and had been itching to get to.

We sent the party of now lvl 2 NPCs to the island and convinced Dirk the wraith to go assist them. The party proper managed to gather some NPCs to help us go scout the battlefield. Bug lost a day trying to tame some of the large goats roaming just outside of town while the rest of the party did other preparations.

We did manage to convince some NPCs to join us on our trip to the battlefield. A goblin gambler, an older cleric with a winter wolf, a dwarfish gunslinger, and a fey woodchuck.

Bug the convinced the fey woodchuck to accompany us so they could continue messing with the gunslinger.

The bloodhunter convinced the gunslinger to come so he could keep an eye on the fey woodchuck.

Bug followed the fey woodchuck through a Transport Through Trees spell, and asked to be sent to the battlefield. No one else in the party had thought to do so (we were all there). So they got to figure out a way to get to the battlefield. Turns out the coastal wizard a day’s trip from town is only lvl 4, so they had to ride oxen from the caravan.

The upside to this was that Gesento(sp?) got paid with the sharktooth shield Bug had him commissioned before heading out.

Thanks to being in the fey wild, Bug got transported to the battlefield 4 days prior. He remembered to thank and pay the fey. Then, spent the next 6 days scurrying about finding, logging, and deducing everything he could about the battle. Including some more recent spine devil spikes.

The bloodhunter found a sword that was buried that Bug overlooked. Bug recalled a story about a noble who refused to leave his castle as it sank, and a knight who had come from said castle (nat20). But the source was pretty sketchy.

The Currator’s crows show up, so Bug starts distracting them. Being a terrible liar did and didn’t help. Accidentally outing the Bloodhunter as being a Bloodhunter and asking the crows what they knew of the Promethean (dead language) phrase “seek the dead brother”, the crows (lesser undead themselves) got VERY riled up.

The Currator’s skeletal Kenku goons started showing up and a fight ensued involving a coatl that was acting weird. As soon as the skellies were dispatched, Bug booked it for the trapdoor Rolland had dug out in a fortified hut. Inside was a spiral stairwell. Bug tied some rope to the railing, then proceeded to slide down the hand rail w/o issue (nat20). Which also meant he went sailing off the end of it cartwheeling across the floor, setting off all of the traps behind him, a subterranean courtyard and stopping abruptly by slamming into a tree in its center (nat1) after causing a loud ruckus.

Found the sunken castle!

Thankfully the werewolves that lived there weren’t part of the cult and didn’t kill us since Rolland smoothed things over with them. And we successfully defeated The Currator’s goons! Bug was happy to had some more skulls to his collection.

He also made some Kenku jaw bone pauldrons for our Drow Light Cleric. Yes, you read all of that sentence correctly.

#agent of chaos #he made sure the good werewolves got some of the mythril gear as recompense #dnd #dnd chaos #dnd stories #goblin eldritch knight #goblin archaeologist #accidental agent of chaos

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sceptilemasterr · 6 years ago

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Catalysts Play Open Heart: Chapter 4

Summary: The Catalysts, too impatient to wait a week for the next chapter, come up with an incredibly irresponsible and dangerous solution in order to start Chapter 4 of Open Heart. Meanwhile, Raj and Furball are on the roof, enjoying some ‘substances’ and having a deep chat...

Previous Chapter: Link

Note: The things in bold are scenes from the actual Choices chapter. Ian and Alyssa are my twin Endless Summer MCs, who I’ve given some additional abilities here (as in my script rewrite), mostly for rule of funny.

Warnings: Marijuana use (guess who). Also, discussions of childbirth and trauma, as was found in the actual Open Heart chapter.

“Dude… what’s it even like, being you? Y’know?” asked Raj.

He was sprawled out on a deck chair on the roof of the Celestial, smoking some weed he had brought from somewhere. Beside him, on the floor, lay Furball, on his belly with all of his limbs splayed out to the side, the open bottle of catnip in front of him. Every so often, the blue fox would look up, spray out a jet of ice at another piece of nearby furniture, then lay back down again. “Baaaarararmmm,” he answered, making a very un-Furball-ish noise.

“If I could do that… I’d… like, you could be your own air conditioner! Or, like, a great prankster… oh man, that’s the best idea!”

“Brriaaaaarr,” agreed Furball, freezing a decorative plant.

“...Wonder if they started the next chapter of that story yet. That was pretty fun last time. Man, Furball, you should join in for the next one!”

“Wraaaaaa…” Another blast of ice flash-froze Raj’s shoe, which he had kicked off onto the floor a while ago.

“You could join the drinking game too! Wait… can you… do you even… get drunk?”

“Briiii? Rarammm?” Furball looked at him quizzically, then turned and sneezed, freezing a few of the string lights overhead.

“Guess we never tested it. That does it, I’ve got some good stuff for you to try… Later, though. And maybe just a little bit, to start out with, huh?”

“Smrrrmr,” nodded Furball sagely, rolling over onto his back and breathing another stream of ice onto the other lounge chair.

“What would be your signature drink, I wonder? I’m thinkin’... like… definitely some blue curacao cuz, y’know,” Raj said, gesturing to Furball’s blue fur. “Over ice of course. Hmm, what else to add…”

As Raj continued talking to himself about Furball’s signature drink, the ice fox looked up at him for a moment, before laying back down on his back with a sigh. As he did so, he blew out another burst of icy breath-- that shot straight for the door to the stairs leading back down, freezing the handle solid. Raj looked over at the door for a moment. “Huh. Wonder what we’ll do about that…” he muttered vaguely, before settling back down into his chair. “Ah, it’ll fix itself later.” He looked back down at Furball. “Alright, now for the real question. If I had some kinda power like that, what d’you think I’d have?”

“Barrrrrrrmma,” Furball replied.

“Fire? Yeah, I can see that,” Raj answered. “Sure would make cooking easier…”

“Okay, has anyone seen Raj?” asked Michelle, walking briskly back into the lobby. Everyone was munching on a variety of snacks, mostly leftovers from the previous night’s dinner. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

“No, why, you gettin’ impatient, Maybelline?” asked Jake through a mouthful of shrimp.

“I mean, it is a pretty big resort,” Sean pointed out. “Maybe he fell asleep or something? I mean, it’s Raj, he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.”

“True,” admitted Michelle. “Still, I don’t want him to miss too much of the story! We’ve got to continue the next chapter soon.”

“After the way the last chapter ended? For sure!” agreed Diego.

Estela shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m excited to continue too, but-” She stopped talking as everyone but Ian stared at her incredulously. “What? I’m not allowed to enjoy a cheesy hospital story once in a while?” Craig started to laugh, but went silent when Estela fixed him with her trademark death glare. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Jake held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, no objections here,” he assured her.

“Honestly, these chapters don’t take too long to get through,” Quinn pointed out. “It hasn’t been that much time. Let’s just go ahead and start, and Raj will probably come down later, right? We can catch him up on what he missed!”

Everyone muttered to each other for a few seconds, but finally agreed to continue. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this,” Michelle said, taking Quinn’s phone and opening up the app. She scrolled back to the Open Heart book… and stopped, frowning. “Oh no!” she exclaimed.

“Yaaaah!” screamed Craig, but Zahra didn’t react thanks to her earmuffs. “...Wait, what’s ‘oh no?’” he added after his brain caught up to the situation.

Michelle laughed and shook her head. “Nothing that serious,” she reassured him. “It’s just… this says the next chapter doesn’t release until next week!”

“Let me see!” said Diego, walking over and looking at the phone. “Huh, you’re right. That sucks.”

“...Diego, the screen is already available in the same location as before,” Varyyn told him.

Diego blushed, looking up at the projector screen, where, indeed, the phone screen was being shown as usual. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“Aww, but we can’t leave it there!” complained Quinn. “Not for a whole week!”

“We won’t even all be here next week!” groaned Jake. “Drinking games are a lot less fun by yourself, y’know.”

“...Are you speaking from experience?” Alyssa asked him. Jake blushed but said nothing.

“Well, what exactly do you propose we do about it?” demanded Aleister. “The chapter does not exist yet, and that is that. We can either leave this as it is, and be done with this ridiculous game, or begin a new story. We have no other choice.”

“...Actually,” said Jake, with a knowing look in his eye, “we do have another choice.” He shot a meaningful look at Alyssa and Ian.

It took a moment before everyone realized what he had in mind. “No. No way. Absolutely not,” said Sean incredulously.

“You want us to use our Vaanu powers… for this?” demanded Ian. “Jake, are you insane?!”

“Don’t be so boring, Ian,” Alyssa argued. “It’s genius!”

“More like ‘irresponsible’ and ‘dangerous!’”

“What are you, my father?”

The room erupted into shouting, with everyone quickly taking sides with one twin or the other regarding Jake’s ridiculous plan. After several minutes of this, Aleister stood up, pulled out a megaphone, and shouted, “CEASE THIS CACOPHONY AT ONCE!”

“...Where did you get a megaphone, and can I have one?” asked Craig. Zahra slapped him.

“I came prepared for just such an occasion,” Aleister explained. “Jacob, allow me to clarify. You wish for Alyssa and Ian to use their powers to irresponsibly manipulate the entire space-time continuum and reality itself… in order to continue playing a mobile game… a week early?!”

“I’ve never heard a stupider idea in my life, and I live with Craig,” Zahra said.

“Yeah!” agreed Craig, before frowning a few moments later. “...Wait…”

“Whoa, hang on, Malfoy, calm your knickers,” said Jake. “I didn’t mean all of reality. Just, like… a focused blast. Just on that phone. I don’t think any of you wanna miss an extra week of work, anyway.”

“I… guess that's more reasonable,” said Grace hesitantly.

“Oh, not you too!” complained Aleister.

Estela shrugged. “I… maybe,” she admitted. “Ian, you’ve aged objects before, it could probably work.”

“I dunno, it feels like a waste somehow,” Ian argued.

“The powers of Vaanu are not to be used lightly,” agreed Varyyn sagely.

Beside his husband, Diego pouted. “But just this once… it can’t hurt, right?”

“It’s my phone, and I’m okay with it,” said Quinn. “But if they age it to dust, the twins owe me a new phone.”

“That’s fair. Come on, Ian. It’ll be fun!” Alyssa said, making her best puppy-dog face at her brother.

Ian rolled his eyes. “That hasn’t worked in years, ‘Lyss, and it’s not gonna work now.”

“Not even from me?” asked Estela, winking at Alyssa before doing the same puppy-dog face.

Ian frowned. “Okay, that is completely unfair,” he complained.

“Well, guess we leave it up to the Time Twins,” Michelle said, glancing over at where Estela was rapidly wearing down her husband’s resolve. “But just a small burst, okay? One week.”

“We’ll be careful,” Alyssa assured her as Ian sighed and shook his head.

“Alright, Estela, you win,” he told her.

“Don’t I always?”

“Oh, FINE! Let us proceed to utterly BREAK REALITY because someone got slightly impatient for a PHONE GAME!” yelled Aleister dramatically. “Don’t blame me if the universe implodes into nothingness as a result. I am certain if Raj were here, he would be levelheaded enough to talk you all out of this utterly irresponsible and frankly RIDICULOUS scheme!”

Meanwhile, on the roof, Raj leaned over, running a hand along the now ice-coated floor. “What if I had time powers, like the twins…” he said to Furball. “I could, like… fast-forward time to make rollercoaster lines faster… or, watch new movies a week early… or make food cook itself instantly… The twins never do stuff like that, those dudes are missin’ out…”

“Brrrrmmmm,” agreed the blue fox.

Back in the lobby, Alyssa and Ian stood, holding hands, looking at Quinn’s phone on a nearby table, still attached to the projector cord. “Here goes nothing,” Ian said. “Three…”

“Two…” continued Alyssa.

“One!” the twins said simultaneously, concentrating. A burst of prismatic time energy emerged from their conjoined hands, flaring out for a moment before the twins clenched their free fists and focused the beam tighter, until it had zeroed in completely onto the phone. They held their focus for several seconds as the rest of the Catalysts and Varyyn watched with bated breath. Finally, the energy flared once around the phone before disappearing into it.

“Alright, anybody got any extra heads or anything?” asked Jake. “No? Told ya so, Slytherin.” Aleister crossed his arms disapprovingly but said nothing.

“Here you go, Quinn. Try it now,” said Alyssa, releasing her brother’s hand and passing the phone back to its owner.

Quinn took the phone and turned it over in her hand. “The case is a little more scratched up than before, and… what’s this weird orange stain?” She sniffed the phone gingerly. “It’s… taco sauce.”

“Aww, YES!” shouted Craig excitedly, pumping a fist into the air. “Does this mean we’re destined for a taco night sometime this week?!”

Quinn turned on the phone and started scrolling through her texts. Everyone caught a glimpse of a text from Michelle, filled with nothing but emojis, until Quinn hit the home button and it vanished. “Uh… I’ll look at those later,” she told the group. Jake raised an eyebrow at Michelle, but she just shook her head, lips sealed.

Quinn took another moment to navigate back to the Choices app, where she saw that, indeed, Open Heart now showed up as ‘Completed.’ “Wow. The whole book is finished,” she observed. “How far forward did you take this phone, anyway?”

Alyssa blushed. “Uh… maybe a little more than a week…” she admitted.

Ian sighed and gave his sister a knowing look. “You haven’t been practicing at all, have you?”

“I practiced! ...Once! ...A few months ago,” she admitted.

Quinn stood up and smiled. “Doesn’t matter now! We have the phone, nobody’s been time-warped or anything weird, and we have plenty of chapters to keep playing through!” she said brightly. “Michelle?”

Michelle paused for a moment, then shrugged and took the phone from Quinn. “Well, no turning back now,” she admitted. “Everybody got their drinks ready? Great, let’s get started!”

Content Warning: This chapter depicts sensitive topics relating to childbirth and trauma.

“That’s… ominous,” said Diego.

“I mean, it is a hospital, the ‘trauma’ part should be obvious,” said Zahra.

“We’re all adults here, we’ll be fine, right?” asked Jake.

Grace looked around nervously. “Uh… I’m a little nervous… I don’t do so well with blood and trauma,” she admitted.

Aleister put his arm around her somewhat awkwardly. “No need to fret. I shall summarize for you what happens if you wish to keep your eyes closed, should anything too… ‘descriptive’ occur.”

Grace smiled at him. “Thanks.”

Aleister shrugged. “Not that any of this matters anyway. We are all likely about to be consumed by a space-time rift any moment now…” he added, glaring daggers at Jake.

“Hey, don’t look at me, the twins were the ones who actually did it!”

Open Heart: Chapter 4

Dolores

“...Umbridge?” asked Diego.

“Probably not,” Ian told him.

“That would be a pretty random cameo,” Diego admitted.

“She was the irritating woman with the unpleasant personality, correct?” Varyyn asked his husband.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Diego said. “We had a Harry Potter marathon a few months ago,” he explained to the others.

A couple days later, you wake up to the enticing smell of someone frying up breakfast.

“Aww, this is really making me miss Raj,” Craig said. “He makes the best breakfasts! ...Hope he’s okay.”

“We’ll go look for him if he doesn’t turn up soon,” Michelle assured him, before continuing to play.

Landry: No! Just… delayed. What’s a seven-letter term for ‘colds that last a long time?’ Fourth letter is ‘A.’

“Flu!” shouted Craig.

“That is not seven letters, and there isn’t even an ‘A’ anywhere,” Zahra said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh! Uh…” Craig said, pondering for a moment. “What about ‘Flu, A Flu!’ That works, right?”

“...I guess? Technically?” said Diego.

But when the choices appeared, to no one but Craig’s surprise, ‘Flu, A Flu’ was not an option. “Aww, man,” said Craig.

“‘Ice Ages’ is the obvious choice here,” Grace pointed out.

Michelle shrugged. “You’re not wrong,” she said, picking the option in question.

Sienna: He keeps having to cancel. His work really demands a lot of him.

“Wait! Sienna’s boyfriend is always busy… and his name’s ‘Wayne…’” said Diego excitedly. “It’s Batman. Her boyfriend is definitely Batman!”

“Oh my God, that actually works!” agreed Ian, air-fiving Diego.

“Now that would be a pretty cool plot twist,” Estela admitted.

Jake chuckled. “Estela being a Batman fan, now that doesn’t surprise me,” he told her, and the rest of the group nodded in agreement.

Estela shrugged. “What can I say?”

Michelle clicked through to the next choice. “Ooh, I totally want to meet Batman!” yelled Craig. “Pick it, pick it, pick it!”

“I really doubt he’s actually Batman, but sure,” Michelle told him, and chose ‘Well, we can’t wait to meet him.’

Jackie shuffles into the living area, still half-asleep. She yawns, pours a mug of coffee, and takes a seat.

“Zahra. She’s totally Zahra,” Alyssa said.

“Not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment,” Zahra said, “but what the hell. Sure.”

Jackie: Last thing I remember is reading a textbook on my bed and then…

“Okay, Zahra’s personality, Grace’s love of textbooks,” Alyssa amended.

“What, are you implying I don’t read or something?” asked Zahra, annoyed. “I spent all afternoon in the damn library, you know!”

“True enough, but have you ever fallen asleep while reading a textbook?” asked Michelle. “Because I’m pretty sure Grace has.”

“Guilty,” Grace admitted.

Elijah: I hooked up the T.V. and stereo last night. We’re officially ready for a housewarming party!

“Now this is gonna be good!” said Craig. “As long as nobody freaks out over a tiger and ruins the whole thing.”

“That was one time,” groaned Ian.

MC!Michelle: A party sounds like…

“Umm, ‘a great idea,’ obviously!” said Quinn.

“Of course!” agreed Zahra, while Craig cheered again. Jake, Alyssa, Diego, and Varyyn all voiced their agreement as well.

“That settles it,” said Michelle, noting the obvious majority. “‘Great idea’ it is.”

Jackie: About Dr. Banerji. Word is, he just up and quit sometime yesterday.

“Whoa…” said Jake.

“The mystery deepens!” said Diego excitedly.

Michelle frowned. “I’m guessing this has something to do with the way the last chapter ended,” she said to herself. “Hope he’s okay.”

Jackie: Coffee is my breakfast.

Zahra laughed. “I like this girl!”

“True that,” agreed Jake.

“Oh, man,” said Craig, “this reminds me of this one time when I put coffee in my cereal instead of milk. That was not a good breakfast, let me tell ya…”

Several of the Catalysts mimed vomiting. “Okay, how and why did you do that?!” asked Diego, staring at Craig. “That’s...just... no.”

Craig shrugged. “In my defense, I was really drunk, and the coffee pot was sitting in the fridge where the milk was usually.”

“Craig, I told you I was gonna put it in there,” said Sean.

“Not my fault I was too drunk to remember that!”

“Okay, but the real question is… how did it taste?” asked Jake, leaning forward.

Craig shook his head. “You do not wanna know.”

“...And this conversation is officially DONE,” said Zahra.

Dr. Harper: Ethan…

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“Get closer! Duh!” shouted Alyssa when the next choice appeared. “I want to know!”

“Alyssa, don’t you think we should respect their privacy, though?” asked Grace tentatively. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

“Oh, come on, Grace. We’re not eavesdropping! We’re just moving closer so that we can overhear their conversation without them knowing about it!”

“...Alyssa, that’s literally what ‘eavesdropping’ means,” Ian pointed out.

“Well excuse me if I haven’t memorized the dictionary!”

“...You haven’t?” asked Aleister. “What on Earth have you been doing with your time?”

Michelle sighed. “I vote to respect their privacy… but we should, y’know, actually vote on this. Who wants to respect their privacy?”

“Come on, guys, let’s not be rude,” said Sean, as he raised his hand along with Michelle, Ian, Grace, Aleister and Quinn. Varyyn raised his hand as well, but then lowered it when he looked at Diego and saw that his hand wasn’t raised.

Michelle quickly counted the hands. “That’s six,” she said, frowning. “Just to be sure… who votes to get closer?” Alyssa, Jake, Estela, Zahra, Diego, and Varyyn (after Diego raised his) all raised their hands. “Wait, that’s six people too! Did somebody not vote?”

Everyone stared expectantly at Craig. “...What?” he asked when he noticed this.

“You forgot to vote!” Zahra told him.

“Oh! Oh, yeah. What did Sean vote again?”

“I said ‘respect their privacy,’” Sean told him.

“Okay, yeah, that’s my vote too.”

“Why not ask to follow my vote?” Zahra asked him, annoyed.

“Because Sean’s my bro, bro! And y’know, ‘bros before…’” He stopped before he could finish the sentence when he noticed Zahra's death glare. “...Uh. It’s just a thing people say.”

“Anyway!” exclaimed Michelle brightly before Zahra could find a way to get Craig to vote her way, “looks like ‘respecting their privacy’ wins. Moving on!” She selected the relevant option.

Kyra: Hey there, doc!

You turn to see Bryce wheeling Kyra down the hall on a bed.

Quinn started fanning herself with her hand. “Kyra and Bryce? Oh, my poor heart…”

“If there’s an option to flirt with both of them, we’re definitely taking it,” declared Sean.

“Fair enough,” agreed Michelle. “Though I would’ve done it anyway.”

Bryce: A lobectomy, assisted by yours truly.

“A lo-ba-da what now?” asked Alyssa.

“‘Lobectomy,’” clarified Aleister. “The surgical removal of a-”

“A lobe of the lung,” interrupted Michelle. “Aleister, you’re not the only one who knows these things, you know. I am a medical student.”

“Ah. You are correct,” admitted Aleister, blushing a faint shade of red. “My utmost apologies.”

MC!Michelle: Kyra! You’re having a lobe of your lung removed today?

“Whaddya know, Peacock Feathers was right,” said Jake.

“Well, of course,” Michelle said, smirking. “You all should know that by now.”

Kyra: I know, right? It happened kinda fast after the C.T. results came back.

“Craig’s Tacos!” yelled Craig excitedly. Silence. “No? Aww… but we’re having the Taco Party of Destiny this week! Quinn’s phone proves it!”

Quinn shrugged, turning her phone over in her hand. “Well, seeing as we sent it even further forward in time… it could probably be any time this month, or even later,” she pointed out.

“Anyway, C.T. stands for Computerized…” said Michelle, before her voice trailed off and she frowned. “Huh. To be honest, I have no idea.”

Jake shook his head, amused. “She doesn’t know a medical question?!” he asked, mock-astonished. “I think this calls for a drink.” The others looked at him expectantly. “ ...Y’all!” he added.

“We always just say ‘C.T. scan,’” Michelle admitted. “I honestly don’t know what it stands for.”

“‘Computerized Tacos?’” suggested Craig.

“What is it with you and tacos all of a sudden?” asked Zahra.

“Taco Party of Destiny, remember?”

“May I?” asked Aleister. Michelle nodded. “Very well. It stands for ‘Computerized Tomography.’”

Michelle smiled at him. “Thanks, Aleister. That’s it!”

“Wait, did he really say ‘Computerized Taco-graphy?’”

Everyone ignored Craig.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“FLIRTY!” yelled Quinn, uncharacteristically loudly.

“Wow. That was impressive,” said Michelle. “‘Flirty’ it is!”

“Aren’t we going to vote?” asked Aleister.

Michelle shook her head. “You know ‘flirty’ would win anyway, since that’s the option that lets them drink,” she told him.

“She’s got a point,” admitted Grace.

“Drink, y’all!”

MC!Michelle: But if you do see any warm, bright lights while you’re under… I’m going to need you to remember this face and turn the hell around.

Instinctively, everyone’s gazes turned to Alyssa and Ian. “...What are you staring at?” asked Alyssa.

Ian sighed and looked into Estela’s eyes. “Honestly, sounds about right,” he told the group. “While I was with Vaanu, it was her who kept me… ‘me.’ If that makes any sense at all.”

“Of course it does, mi amor,” said Estela, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Barf,” said Zahra.

“You know you like it,” said Craig, pulling her into a very similar hug. She playfully pushed him away.

“Just glad you’re home, Princess,” Jake told his wife, a huge, genuine smile on his face.

“You’re flirty when you’re drunk,” Alyssa observed.

“What are you talkin’ about? I’m flirty all the time.”

His wife sighed. “You’re not wrong…”

Bryce: Sorry, Dr. Nguyen, but I have to get Ms. Santana here to the O.R.

“Oh! I really do know this one!” yelled Craig excitedly. “That one means ‘Operating Room!’”

Everyone stared, dumbstruck and utterly at a loss for words, at Craig. Zahra grabbed her glass of whiskey and emptied the entire thing into her mouth.

“...What?” asked Craig.

“You… you got that one right!” exclaimed Michelle, astonished.

“Well, yeah, I’ve heard doctors and stuff say that one before,” Craig explained. “Like when I was in there after I broke my...uh, I think spleen? They told me not to play football but I didn’t listen.”

“...Did you have mono?” asked Michelle.

“Yeah, but like, I didn’t feel that sick, so I figured I could still play--”

Michelle sighed. “God dammit, Craig,” she muttered incredulously, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Zahra nodded in agreement as she refilled her glass.

“Craig getting an acronym right. Let’s toast to that!” declared Jake, raising his whiskey glass for a toast. The others raised their own glasses before each taking another sip, including Craig himself.

MC!Michelle: Bryce, just one more thing…

“Damn, I like both these options,” said Sean.

“I suppose that means this calls for a vote,” said Aleister. ‘Take care of her for me’ won by a close margin, 7-6.

Dr. Zaid: Get down to the E.R. and see if they need any patients admitted!

“‘Exciting Room?’” guessed Craig.

“...Aaaaaand we’re back to normal,” snarked Zahra. “Also, no.”

“It’s actually ‘Emergency Room,’” Michelle clarified.

“At least he was half right,” put in Grace.

“But emergencies are exciting! Doesn’t that count?” asked Craig. Zahra shook her head. “Aww…”

Intern: Hi, Aurora! I brought you a cappuccino--

Aurora: I drink tea.

“Geez, what’s her problem?” asked Sean. “Rude.”

“For sure,” agreed Michelle.

“She needs to lose the stick up her ass,” agreed Jake. Then the next choice appeared, and Jake laughed so hard that whiskey flew out of his nose.

Alyssa fell out of her chair laughing at the sight. “Holy shit, that was amazing,” she said through her laughter.

“Damn, Ariel, maybe your phone is psychic,” Jake said to Quinn. “Can we pick it? Please?”

“We’ve gotta vote,” Michelle reminded him.

“Oh yeah.”

But when the vote was called, ‘What’s up your butt?’ won unanimously, likely due to Jake’s reaction.

Aurora: Funny. That’s what I had to ask my last patient. It was a model train.

“PFFFFFFFFFTBWAHAHAHAA!” bellowed Craig, incredibly loudly. “Holy shit!”

“That was amazing,” laughed Zahra, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Okay, I love this story,” said Jake through his own laughter. “Even if it does predict me sometimes.”

“I still do not understand why butts are funny,” admitted Varyyn.

Diego shrugged and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Love you anyway,” he told his husband.

MC!Michelle: Pretty quiet down here…

“Alright, whoever says ‘how boring’ is an insensitive prick,” said Michelle when the choices appeared.

“Why would anyone say that?” asked Alyssa. “Isn’t it a good thing to have less work?”

“Lazybones,” Jake said, laughing.

“Should we not vote on this choice as well--” Aleister began to say.

“Nope!” Michelle said, cutting him off as she selected ‘That’s great!’

Aurora: What are you even talking about? There are no good cases.

“Insensitive prick alert!” shouted Zahra.

Paramedic: Dolores Hudson, office fire. Her coworkers evacuated in time, but she’s pregnant and couldn’t move fast enough.

“Ah! ‘Dolores!’” exclaimed Varyyn excitedly, a sharp contrast to the ominous music playing. “That is the title of the chapter!”

“Yep, it is,” said Diego, nodding.

“Hope she’s okay…” muttered Michelle, as she continued the story.

When the next choice came up, she looked back at the rest of the group for confirmation. “All you,” Ian assured her.

Michelle thought for a moment, then chose the ‘How long has she been unconscious?’ option.

Paramedic: Elevated B.P., but she and the baby both have strong heartbeats.

“Wait, isn’t that a gas station?” asked Craig.

“...Yeah,” admitted Zahra. “But I don’t think--”

“I know what happened!” he exclaimed. “The lady was ‘elevated’ on the gas station roof and tried to jump off it to test a parachute made of paper and duct tape because someone bet her ten bucks!”

Silence. “I… um… what,” said Michelle finally.

“That was oddly specific,” said Zahra.

Craig paused for a moment. “Well, okay, that did kinda happen to me once. I just broke my ankle instead. Also it was a Shell.”

“Why am I not surprised?” asked Alyssa.

“Blood Pressure, not BP gas station,” Zahra clarified for Craig. “Even I know that one.”

“...Oh.”

Aurora: Smoke inhalation? It’s all yours. I’ll wait for something interesting.

“WHOAAAAAAAAAAAA!” the entire group exclaimed at once, outraged.

“What a horrible person,” Ian said.

“She’s a person, not a goddamn science experiment,” said Michelle, scowling at the screen. “‘Interesting’ my ass.”

“We gotta do something!” said Sean, as on-screen, Michelle’s character agreed to take the patient’s case. “Good!”

MC!Michelle: So… you ran into a raging inferno to save a pregnant woman?

“Wow, when she puts it that way, this guy sounds like an action hero,” said Diego admiringly.

“He does seem like a great guy,” agreed Quinn.

MC!Michelle: I like to think…

“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN!” hollered Zahra when the full-body picture of the paramedic appeared.

“The man on the screen resembles you, Diego,” said Varyyn.

Diego blushed and looked down at his feet. “Well, uh, ...maybe? If I were like, 30 times more badass?”

“Just as you are now, then,” Varyyn said.

“I think at this point we should all be saying ‘I’d be that brave,’” declared Jake. “Given the bullshit we’ve all been through by now.”

“You do have a fair point,” admitted Aleister. “Michelle?”

“Jake’s not wrong,” Michelle admitted, selecting the option.

Rafael: Rafael Aveiro.

“Wait, is he a Ninja Turtle?” asked Ian excitedly. “This keeps getting better!”

“That would be awesome!” agreed Diego. “So he’s secretly a Ninja Turtle, Sienna’s boyfriend is secretly Batman…”

“BEST. CROSSOVER. EVER.”

“By the way… drink, y’all,” said Jake. Michelle looked at him expectantly. “Oh, come on, you’re gonna pick it,” he insisted, until finally she relented and chose the flirtatious ‘Pretty often, I hope’ choice.

MC!Michelle: (Everyone must love Mrs. Martinez.)

“True that!” shouted Estela. “She’s the best.”

“Ha, even Dr. Ramsey likes her,” said Alyssa.

Michelle laughed. “If he likes someone, then everyone does,” she commented.

Dr. Ramsey: I care for the wellbeing of the people who’ve entrusted their care to me, Rookie. That’s all.

“Huh. That’s weirdly thoughtful,” Zahra said.

“Compared to Aurora, at least he cares for his patients,” Michelle agreed. “Even if he can be abrasive sometimes.”

“I don’t know about you,” said Grace hesitantly, “but I’d prefer a doctor who cared about their patients and was kinda mean to his coworkers than the other way around.”

“Agreed,” said Sean.

Dr. Ramsey: Did you just say Dolores Hudson?

MC!Michelle: Yes?

Dr. Ramsey: I’m coming with you.

“Ooh, the plot thickens!” shouted Diego. “Wonder if they know each other.”

“Could be,” said Quinn.

“Oh!” exclaimed Grace excitedly. “What if this is related to why Dr. Banerji quit yesterday?”

Michelle nodded. “That’s definitely possible,” she agreed.

Dolores: Ethan!

Dr. Ramsey: Dolores! What have you gotten yourself into this time?

“CALLED IT!” crowed Diego triumphantly.

Dr. Ramsey: Dolores was my very first patient when I was an intern.

MC!Michelle: Wow! Dolores, was he always so…

“Wait…” said Zahra, frowning as she read the choices, “are they really letting us flirt with Dr. Ramsey?!”

“Looks like it,” said Quinn. “I mean, not directly, but…”

“Drink, y’all!” exclaimed Jake. Craig immediately took a sip.

“Wait, wait, we haven’t voted yet!” protested Michelle. “I’d rather not flirt with Dr. Ramsey, of all people…”

Aleister stood up at the word ‘voted’ and began counting everyone’s votes. “It would appear ‘Mean’ won, 8-5,” he declared.

Craig frowned. “Aww, man… does that mean I have to put my drink back in the cup?” He started attempting to make himself vomit.

Zahra quickly slapped him. “Uh, no,” she admonished. “Just… drink it normally!”

“Oh, okay.”

Your Stethoscope: Listen to her breathing.

“Okay, ‘drink, y’all’ for real this time,” Jake said.

Craig started to take another drink, but Zahra put her hand over his cup. “No fair cheating, you drank on the last one,” she reminded him. Craig frowned but set the cup down anyway.

“Was that really the first single-option choice in the chapter?” asked Estela. “Huh.”

MC!Michelle: (What do I say?)

“Dr. Ramsey has friends?” shouted Jake incredulously. “That’s both my actual reaction and my vote for this choice.”

“Wasn’t expecting Dolores to get a full picture,” Quinn said. “That’s nice! And my vote goes for ‘That’s so sweet.’”

“Guess she stood up fast just like Kyra,” Diego pointed out upon seeing the photo of Dolores standing.

Aleister stood up, getting ready to take everyone’s votes. “If you don’t mind, Aleister, could I… maybe… do the vote?” asked Grace hesitantly. Aleister smiled and sat back down. “Okay, uh… who votes ‘That’s so sweet?’” Grace asked the group. Quinn, Diego, Varyyn, Ian, Sean, and Grace herself all raised their hands. “And ‘Dr. Ramsey has friends?’” Jake, Alyssa, Estela, Craig, Zahra, Aleister, and Michelle all raised their hands. Grace quickly counted their votes. “Looks like the second choice won,” she said.

Michelle smiled at Grace. “Nice job,” she assured her, before going ahead and picking the option in question.

Dr. Ramsey: Careful, rookie…

“Oh man, I forgot he was actually still in the room!” laughed Zahra. “This just got even better!”

Dolores: I just really wish I hadn’t lost that stuffed frog.

MC!Michelle: I have an idea!

“Okay, this being a diamond choice makes even less sense than the ‘sneaking away with Bryce’ scene last chapter!” complained Alyssa.

“But… she looks so sad,” Quinn said. “We have to buy it!”

Jake shrugged. “That’s up to Michelle. But either way… totally unnecessary diamond choice… so, drink, y’all!”

As everyone sipped their drink of choice, Michelle looked around at the others. “Sorry, Quinn,” she said, “but this is only the first diamond option, and I think we should wait.”

Quinn frowned. “Aww… that’s okay. Go ahead!” Michelle turned down the diamond choice and continued through the story.

You hand him the labs. His face falls as he reads them.

MC!Michelle: She has serious preeclampsia. Her baby’s in trouble, isn’t it?

“Oh…” said Michelle. “That explains the hypertension, at least…”

“‘Pree-what-now?’” asked Craig. “‘Hyper-what-now?’ Slow down, Meech.”

Michelle shook her head. “Hypertension means high blood pressure,” she explained to him, “and preeclampsia is a dangerous condition that can occur during pregnancy. One of the main symptoms is elevated BP.”

“That’s ‘blood pressure,’ not the gas station,” Zahra reminded him.

Craig frowned. “I know that now…”

“Oh no,” said Grace suddenly, “this probably won’t end well… Remember the warning from the beginning of the chapter?”

Everyone’s eyes widened as they realized what Grace meant. “I really hope you’re wrong,” said Sean, “I like Dolores!”

“That’s the job, though,” said Michelle. “It’s hard, but we’re all taught to always be aware that we’ll never be able to save everyone.”

Diego shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Michelle,” he told her, “but I could never handle that kind of pressure. That’s for sure.” The others all nodded their agreement.

“Thanks, Diego. Guess I just… do.” Michelle smiled as she continued the story.

Dr. Ramsey: This is the job, Rookie. Come on.

“Whoa, that’s like what you just said!” said Alyssa excitedly.

“Ha, yep, guess so…”

MC!Michelle: I should tell her…

“Aah! Timed choice!” yelled Craig when the next choice appeared. Michelle quickly selected ‘Gently’ before the timer could run out.

MC!Michelle: The bloodflow to the placenta is slowing. It could soon deprive your baby of vital nutrients and oxygen.

Dr. Ramsey: Your baby is at risk.

“Oh no…” moaned Grace.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” said Varyyn.

“Alright, points for the Star Wars reference, but I’m genuinely worried,” Diego said. “God, I hope we’re wrong about this. Maybe they just put in that warning as a prank? Like, April Fools?”

“Diego… it’s March,” Alyssa reminded him.

“But you two sent Quinn’s phone into the future, right? So this chapter could be from April! ...C’mon, let me have my hope,” he told her. Then he thought about this for a moment. “Wait, hang on, if the phone was sent into the future, then… Hey, Michelle, are there any photos on there from my birthday?”

Michelle sighed. “I don’t think this is really the time,” she told him. “Besides, I think we’re already messing with the space-time continuum enough as it is.”

Diego’s face fell. “Aww… you’re right.”

MC!Michelle: Babies delivered at twenty-six weeks have a good chance of survival.

Dolores: A… a chance?

“Oh, please tell me we can save the baby!” said Sean. “That’s not fair.”

“We’d better be able to save them,” Estela said, literally at the edge of her seat with tension.

MC!Michelle: He’ll have to spend some time in the N.I.C.U., and yes, there’s risk of post-birth complications--

Everyone looked at Craig expectantly. “Any ideas?” asked Zahra.

Craig thought for a moment. “Uh… ‘Nine Interns Carrying… U-tacos,’” he finished lamely. “What? There wasn’t a ‘T’!”

“Points for effort, anyway,” said Jake, as everyone laughed.

“Hey, at least it lightened the mood!” Ian pointed out. “Thanks, Craig.”

“No problem, bro!”

Dr. Ramsey: I’m taking over this case. You’re… not ready for it.

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea,” said Michelle, frowning. “He’s too personally attached to her.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” asked Alyssa, curious. “To have a doctor who knows you personally?”

“Not in this kind of situation,” Michelle explained. “It’s better to have less of an attachment when a case is serious.”

“Huh. Never thought of it that way.”

Through the window, you spot Kyra, asleep after surgery.

MC!Michelle: She looks so peaceful. Everything went well with the lobectomy?

Bryce: Flawlessly.

“Oh, thank god,” said Grace, letting out the breath she’d been holding. “At least Kyra is okay.”

“With everything with Dolores, I’d completely forgotten about Kyra!” Sean admitted. “Uh… whoops.”

Michelle smiled. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to agree with my character self on this one, it’s about time we got some good news in this chapter.”

When the next choice appeared, it was a perfectly unanimous vote to hug Bryce, which Michelle did. “And… drink, y’all,” declared Jake.

“A toast to Kyra’s good health!” said Aleister, raising his glass.

Everyone stared at him. “Wait, since when were you drinking with us?” asked Zahra. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he huffed. “I do enjoy a stiff glass of bourbon now and again.” At everyone’s continued dumbfounded expressions, he raised his glass again. “Well? A toast, or no?”

“A toast!” exclaimed Estela, who was the first to snap out of it. She raised her glass of water as the others followed suit with their drinks (or glasses of water for those who weren’t involved in the drinking game).

Bryce: Wanna hit up this concert with me? It should be fun. And it looks like you could seriously use a pick-me-up.

Purchasing this premium outfit gets you a night on the town with Bryce!

“She… er, I mean me… has great fashion sense,” said Michelle upon seeing the image of the premium outfit.

“Does this count as a drink?” asked Craig.

Jake shrugged. “Outfits cost money in real life, so I’m gonna say no. Sorry.”

“Even so,” said Michelle, “are we buying it or not? I’m going with yes, but it’s up to the vote.”

“Absolutely!” said Quinn. “We’ve got to do it!”

“I agree,” said Sean.

Alyssa frowned. “What if there’s another choice to come, though? We should save our money.”

“You mean our money?�� Grace reminded her. “We don’t mind paying!”

“I know, but still…”

Aleister stood up and held out his hands. “Wait a moment, everyone, we must do this properly. Who votes to purchase the premium choice?” Michelle, Quinn, Sean, Estela, Diego, and Varyyn all raised their hands. “Who votes to decline?” The rest of the group raised their hands, and Aleister did a quick head count. “It appears we have our answer. I apologize, Michelle.”

“It’s no problem,” said Michelle, reluctantly turning down the outfit. “Majority rules.”

Bryce: I hope it works out with your patient.

“Me too,” moaned Grace. “I’m nervous…”

“I feel you,” Diego said to her. “That warning at the beginning has me a little paranoid.”

Your Pager: Read the message.

“Finally! There aren’t nearly enough of these in this chapter,” said Craig excitedly, as he took a sip of his drink.

“Hey, Drax, not so fast! I didn’t even say it yet,” Jake said, making a face at Craig.

Alyssa laughed and shoved Jake lightly. “Wow, didn’t know you cared so much about your ‘line,’” she said to him.

“I care about plenty of stuff, Princess. Like you.” Alyssa blushed as he added, “Drink, y’all!”

MC!Michelle: (I slept through a page about Dolores! She’s been taken to emergency surgery!)

“Oh no,” said Grace.

“They’d better save the baby,” said Estela, scowling at the screen.

Dr. Ramsey: Dolores had a seizure. Full eclampsia. We had no choice but to deliver the baby. It’s fifty-fifty he’ll survive the night.

Michelle and Grace both gasped at the words ‘Full eclampsia.’ “What happened? What does that mean?” asked Diego, covering his eyes for some reason despite it being a text-based app.

“Judging by your expression, nothing good,” Quinn said to Michelle.

Michelle frowned. “No, it’s not,” she agreed. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Seizures during pregnancy as a result of preeclampsia.”

“Please be okay…” muttered Sean.

MC!Michelle: And Dolores?

Dr. Ramsey: She died.

“NO!” shouted Estela, as she stared at the screen in shock along with the rest of the group.

“No… no, no, no,” said Grace.

“I thought it was the baby that was in danger!” Ian said. “I didn’t think Dolores…”

Michelle shook her head sadly. “Eclampsia is incredibly dangerous to the mother, too…” she muttered, half to herself. “But… in this type of story, I didn’t think… didn’t think they’d actually do it…”

“It’s not real, Michelle,” said Quinn softly, a tear dripping down her face. “It’s just a story.”

“I know that. It’s just… things like this do happen. Maybe it’s just a little more real to me, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she crossed over to Quinn and pulled her into a tight hug. “God, am I really getting this worked up?”

Quinn rubbed her back gently. “It’s okay.”

“Talk about whiplash,” Jake muttered. “Gotta say, didn’t really expect anything this real in a story like this.”

“That likely does explain the emotional shock the others are experiencing,” declared Aleister, though a slight tremble in his voice betrayed the fact that he wasn’t immune from the ‘emotional shock’ either. “It is one thing to go into a work of fiction expecting tragedy, but another thing entirely when it is unexpected.” He wrapped an arm around Grace protectively, as she buried her face into his side.

“Uh… that lamp… still looks like a pinecone,” said Craig lamely, but no one laughed. “Sorry, just tryin’ to lighten the mood.”

“Let’s… let’s just continue,” said Zahra, probably the most composed out of the group. “We’ve gotta know what happens to the baby.”

Michelle nodded. Pulling away from Quinn, she picked up the phone again and continued clicking through as everyone watched with bated breath.

You enter the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and approach the incubator.

Newborn: …

Your heart tightens as you read the tiny newborn’s nametag: Ethan Hudson.

“Oh, so that’s what it stands for,” said Craig, trying to cheer everyone up again. “At least it was better than my guess.”

“Did she… name the baby after Dr. Ramsey?” asked Quinn. “Aww… that’s so sad…”

MC!Michelle: Do you mind if I sit with him tonight?

“That’s so nice,” said Grace, sniffling a little. “At least you’re there to look out for little Ethan. I hope he’s okay…”

“He’d better be,” agreed Estela.

“We can’t lose the mom and the baby! We’ve gotta be able to save him,” said Sean. “We’ve got to.”

Dr. Ramsey: Would you mind if I joined you?

“ABSOLUTELY,” said Estela firmly. “How could anyone not--” Her voice cut off as the diamond choice was revealed. “Are you kidding me?!”

“Good thing we saved our diamond choice, huh, Michelle?” asked Alyssa. “We’ve got to do this!”

Aleister shrugged. “Is there any purpose at all in taking a vote at this point?” he asked. “I do believe we are all in agreement on this one?” Everyone nodded their assent.

“Thanks,” said Michelle, smiling weakly. “Thanks, everyone.” She went ahead and selected the diamond choice.

Dr. Ramsey: The first patient I lost… was in my fourth week. I didn’t make any mistakes. He had stage four metastatic melanoma. He just… fought like hell and lost.

“Wow,” breathed Ian. “Wow…”

“It’s like I said,” Michelle told him. “We can’t save everyone. It’s sad, but true.” She looked down at the floor for a moment. “I’m dreading the day it happens to me. That’s one part of residency I’m not looking forward to.”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to teaching, thanks,” Diego said. “That’s just too much for me.”

Varyyn patted his husband on the back. “As she said before, not everyone can be healers. I cannot imagine that an entire village of only healers would be very successful.”

Michelle nodded. “He’s right, it’s not for everyone,” she assured him, “and that’s okay! Besides, we need professors too.”

“And video game designers!” interjected Craig. “Those are important! ...Right?”

“Uh… yeah, sure,” Zahra muttered. “Sure they are.”

“I think your games are awesome, man,” Sean told Craig. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?!” demanded Zahra.

MC!Michelle: …

“Mind if I take this one?” Michelle asked when the next choice appeared. “I’m actually very curious to hear the answer to the first choice.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and she went ahead and selected ‘Does it ever get easier?’

Dr. Ramsey: Grieving a lost patient isn’t a weakness. Good doctors should value life. For itself. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset.

“That’s… actually a really good way of looking at it,” said Quinn. “If a doctor doesn’t value life, then why are they even a doctor in the first place?”

“Good point,” Michelle agreed. “I guess our emotions are what make us human.

“But the problem wasn’t being upset about losing the patient,” said Alyssa, frowning, “the problem was losing her in the first place! We should’ve kept that from happening! We should be better than this!”

Michelle shook her head. “People generally don’t live forever, Alyssa,” she reminded her. “As much as I’d like to be some kind of perfect super-doctor who saves everyone… I won’t be able to, and I’ve accepted that.”

“Some choices must last,” reminded Varyyn sagely, thinking of his mother.

“Ugh. Life isn’t fair,” sighed Alyssa. “You’re right.”

“He usually is,” Diego told her, and Varyyn smiled at him.

MC!Michelle: But…

“Wow, all of these choices suck,” said Zahra.

“Princess literally just said one of them earlier,” Jake observed. “Maybe we should go with that?”

“Huh? No I didn’t,” said Alyssa.

Ian pointed at the screen. “You said, and I quote, ‘We should be better than this!’”

“Oh. Right. Guess I did…”

“The third choice is even sadder,” Grace said. “She was his friend. Doesn’t that make it worse?”

“That was sort of my point about doctors not taking care of patients that they’re too attached to,” Michelle told her. “You’re right. It would make it a lot harder.”

“I suppose we should vote, then,” said Aleister, his voice noticeably softer than usual. “Shall we?”

‘I need to be better than this’ ended up winning, 6-2-5.

Dr. Ramsey: There are doctors with unlimited patience. I’m not one of them.

“You know… when Michelle says that out loud… it’s a lot funnier,” said Diego.

Everyone laughed weakly. “Ha. True,” Ian admitted. “‘Unlimited patients!’”

“There’s another Star Wars quote I could use here, but we already saw Dr. Ramsey doesn’t like those…”

He swallows and looks at Dolores’s baby. His eyes are red.

MC!Michelle: (What do I do?)

“You know, as much as I really didn’t like his attitude at first… that was a surprisingly insightful conversation,” Michelle said. “It makes sense. Patients absolutely should come first.”

“I… guess so,” Zahra admitted. “He’s still an ass though.”

“Even asses can get emotional sometimes, especially with a situation like this,” said Sean. “He needs us right now.”

“Asses are people too,” agreed Alyssa.

“Besides, asses do sometimes have a heart deep down, as we all know,” Jake said, looking pointedly at Aleister.

Aleister scowled. “What on Earth does my posterior have to do with any of this?!” he demanded, looking utterly bewildered.

“Aleister, you have a fine posterior,” Grace reassured him, then blushed and covered her mouth immediately when she realized what she’d said. “Wait, no, that came out wrong!”

“Heh, you two said ‘posterior,’” Craig pointed out.

Everyone laughed at the ridiculousness of the conversation, and the mood in the room instantly lightened. “God, I love you guys,” said Diego warmly.

“I’m not always glad you’re my brother, I admit, but that was amazing,” Estela told Aleister through her laughter.

Aleister stared, completely confused. “I still do not understand-”

“Nor do I, Aleister,” Varyyn reassured him.

Once the laughter had died down enough to continue, Michelle looked back at the screen. “Should we choose now?” she asked them. “I think we should choose ‘touch his hand,’ but we can put it to a vote-”

“No vote necessary, I think we’d all agree with that one,” said Quinn, looking around at the others as they all nodded their agreement. “See?”

“That was easy,” said Michelle as she selected the option.

MC!Michelle: This doesn’t taste like cafeteria coffee!

Dr. Ramsey: This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again.

“Oh my god. That is brilliant,” said Michelle.

“Is hospital coffee really that bad?” asked Jake curiously. “I mean, it can’t be worse than barracks coffee, right?”

“Let’s just say ‘caffeinated dishwater’ is an understatement.”

MC!Michelle: He made it!

Dr. Ramsey: And he’s getting stronger.

“Thank god!” exclaimed Estela, as everyone sighed in relief.

“Glad Ethan is okay!” said Quinn. “Er, baby Ethan. Though Dr. Ramsey is probably okay too.”

“I just hope someone will be able to take care of the baby,” Grace said. “Ooh, what if Dr. Ramsey ends up adopting him?”

“Awww!” said Quinn. “I hope so!”

You and your friends join the growing crowd of medical interns clustered in front of Harper. Ethan stands behind her, arms folded.

“Yep. He’s definitely back to normal,” snarked Zahra.

Dr. Emery: Instead of filling that role, we will be selecting one young doctor to train as a junior fellow.

“Wow. Seriously?!” asked Michelle to nobody in particular.

MC!Michelle: Did I just hear that right?

“Wow. That was pretty much your actual reaction,” commented Alyssa.

“What do y’all think about adding another rule: drink whenever the character Michelle reacts basically the same way as real Michelle?” suggested Jake.

“Hell yeah,” said Zahra.

Jake shrugged. “Alright then… drink, y’all!”

Dr. Ramsey: We will be ranking you daily. The best performing intern at the end of your first year will be selected.

“Holy shit, this got real competitive, real fast,” observed Alyssa. “We’d better win!”

“Sounds like a good idea for a reality show,” joked Diego. “Oh! Imagine an America’s Most Eligible spin-off! ‘AME: Hospital Edition.’”

“That sounds either really awful, or really entertaining,” Michelle said. “Awfully entertaining?”

“Like in a ‘so-bad-it’s-good’ way? I’d watch that,” Alyssa told her.

“I’d watch you watching that, ‘Lyss,” Ian said, laughing.

“Watch-ception!” said Diego.

“Oh! Like, how watching one watching something is similar to dreaming about dreaming, as a reference to the film ‘In-ception!’” Varyyn yelled excitedly, a little too loudly. “I understood that!”

Diego kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” he said with a huge grin on his face. “But it’s a real shame we haven’t done our MCU marathon yet, because you missed the perfect opportunity for another reference…”

Who will enter the competition? And can your friendships survive the heat? Keep playing to find out!

“Oh, we are definitely going to enter… and win,” said Estela fiercely.

“Well, then that settles it, because nobody beats Estela in anything,” Ian told the group. “We’ve got this one for sure.”

“This story just went from ‘good’ to ‘freakin’ awesome,’” Craig said. “It is ON!” Then he frowned. “Uh… but we might need the science nerds for this.”

Zahra laughed and clapped him on the back. “You’re not wrong. At least they’re all on our side, huh?” she said, looking from Aleister and Grace to Michelle, then to Ian.

Sean smiled at his best friend. “Craig, trust me: if this was a sports-related competition, they’d need you just as badly,” he reassured him.

“And you’d need me for a movie-related one!” said Diego. “I’d be unstoppable! Oh, man, we’ve got to have a ‘Scene It’ contest sometime, by the way.”

“Sure, but I’m on your team,” Alyssa immediately said. “I call dibs!”

“Who is ‘dibs?’” asked Varyyn. “And why are you calling them?”

As Diego started explaining the concept of ‘dibs’ to Varyyn, Michelle crossed her arms and frowned. “Alright, we just played through another chapter... after tying space and time into knots... and still no sign of Raj. Where the hell is he?!”

Ian stood up to get everyone’s attention. “She’s got a point,” he said, but no one besides Estela and Michelle paid any attention to him over the din of conversation. “We should break to look for him… uh… guys? Hello?”

Estela stood up, strode over to where Aleister and Grace were sitting deep in conversation, and grabbed Aleister’s megaphone. “EVERYONE, SHUT IT!” she yelled into the megaphone at the top of her lungs.

That got everyone’s attention.

Ian smiled at his wife gratefully. “That was awesome. Thanks.” Then he turned to address the group. “Look, Raj is still missing, and it’s been two whole chapters so far. I’m thinking we should break for now, and split up and look for him. I’m worried he fell asleep somewhere or something.”

“Good idea,” agreed Sean. “Let’s all pick an area to look, and we’ll meet back here in an hour.”

“Great plan. Alright, let’s do it…”

Meanwhile, on the roof, Raj stared at the icy doorknob, frowning. “Dude, how does this not melt… is that like, one of your powers?” he asked Furball.

“Mrrraaaaaarraraa,” said the fox, blasting some ice off of the side of the roof (since literally everything on the roof was now already frozen.) “Mrowwww.”

“Yeah, makes sense, that could come in handy… What if I breathed on it, but while thinking really warm thoughts?” asked Raj, as he pulled out his lighter and... lit another joint with it.

“Rrrram,” agreed Furball.

Raj bent down near the doorknob and started breathing smoke on it. The ice stubbornly stayed frozen. “It’s gotta work eventually, right? ...Right?”

Next Chapter: Link

Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @endlesssummerfan @marmolady

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