#and the cast tributes have broken me each time

[thefrogdalorian]

While it's heartbreaking that Greef Karga's story won't continue after Friday's sad news, I keep thinking about how happy I am that he got the ending that he did.

It's incredibly comforting to think that in the end, Greef got to see that the man who he first encountered as a lone bounty hunter had finally adopted the child that changed him for the better. Not only that, but the two of them found a home together on his planet. A planet that Greef cleaned up and helped restore, from a shady place which harboured Imps to a thriving planet with a positive reputation.

I also love how much Greef and Din's arcs mirrored each other. Both undoubtedly changed for the better over the course of the time we got to see them. I can't imagine that the Greef we encounter in Chapter 1 would be as concerned with Nevarro's prosperity and respectability like he was after becoming High Magistrate, especially since he didn't seem to want to gain anything from it, other than creating a thriving planet for others.

Likewise, before Grogu, Din was a loner who would refuse to help people in need (like on Sorgan) if they were unable to pay him adequately. Din would collect bounties for whichever shady characters Greef introduced him to, seemingly without a care towards whether the jobs were ethical or not. Yet in Chapter 21, Din came to Nevarro's aid. He could have so easily left Nevarro to be destroyed, but Din stuck up for Greef and inspired the covert to also come to his aid. Din helped Nevarro to help Greef, a friend. The land was obviously a way to sweeten the deal for the rest of the Mandalorians, but I think Din truly wanted to help him out.

So I think leaving Greef on Nevarro, after finding out about Din's adoption of Grogu, with IG-11 as his new Marshal is a fitting way to leave the character... even though I'm sure there was so much more to come from him 💔

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[quaddmgd]

Happy Birthday, Crystal

So today (August 25th) marks one year since I started playing Cyberpunk 2077 and created Crystal. A year is a really long time for me to still play the same singleplayer game with no subsequent playthroughs. Things like that don't happen often, and Crystal means a world to me, so why not ramble for a bit about my memories, feelings towards the game and other stuff. Keep in mind, it's nothing more than a journal entry. Unless you know me a bit better than a typical mutual, you won't find anything of value here.

[VERY LONG POST AHEAD]

Long time ago...

I was really hyped about the game before its release in December 2020, my s/o even more than me. There were some signs that it's going to turn out disappointing, but we were keeping our hopes up. Alas, came the release date, the game hit headlines due to it's poor technical state and some broken promises. We were very upset, especially since all we had to play it on was Xbox One and low-spec by today's standards PCs. First updates showed that CDPR has much more to fix than we expected, so our hype has slowly died down.

Since then, I played through Cruelty Squad, Red Dead Redemption 2, multiple Yakuza, Devil May Cry and Resident Evil games, and I couldn't care less about the game at the start of 2022.

Why I got the game?

I only purchased Cyberpunk 2077 in May-June 2022, along with Kao The Kangaroo (2022) which, to be honest, was the main attraction for me. Both games were physical Xbox releases and I only was hyped to play Cyberpunk thanks my to lil bro, who has finished the game twice, and showed me this trailer with a beautiful cover of Never Fade Away - a song very in-line with my music taste.

Speaking as a seasoned video editor, the trailer was masterfully realized, with multiple great cuts showing off the diverse cast and some of the action. Editing, music and the scenes they chose made the entire trailer feel more like a tribute video - obviously this was made with love.

Now, I played The Witcher 3, and I knew that this game will require time and dedication from me - something I couldn't afford at the time. And despite hearing about the next gen patch (update 1.5) bringing the game to a state it should've been released in, I remained skeptical about it being good. No offense, but people (especially on Twitter) tend to overreact and talk about stuff they know nothing about. Even with recent title releases, folks just assume the latest patch made them better and fixed important issues. But then you sit with the game and a proper frame rate analysis is enough to prove such reports to be false.

My life in corpo

Before we get to August 2022, I want to provide some more context regarding the state I was in. I was working a piss-poor corpo job, which was gradually eating away my soul for longer than I'd like to admit. It wasn't fulfilling and it was (and probably still is) full of ungrateful pricks, that were coming up with issues to justify their payrolls, only to send QA on us to not detect any issues mentioned. To keep it brief, it was a very hostile work environment, that was treating people like garbage. But hey, at least they were smiling, right?

Come summer 2022, I was feeling like a shell of a human being, and I'm happy that fate decided that it's time for me get out and take care of myself. I'm not sure where would I be right now if I didn't.

So, my time at the job was coming to an end and I couldn't give less of a fuck about looking for another one. I needed some well-deserved vacation. I was supposed to work until August 31st and during these last few days I was trying to take it really easy.

Still the work was going as usual, so despite of having only few days left, my mental and physical state was as shitty as before. After each remaining day I was a walking corpse, drinking coffee at 10pm to squeeze these additional two hours from a day and try to enjoy some of my hobbies before going to sleep and repeating the cycle.

Starting the playthrough

My job is the reason why my memory is hazy on how I decided that it's time to start Cyberpunk 2077, but it's possible that it was my s/o that encouraged me to do it. She surely wanted to see the character creator with her own eyes, and was always interested in me creating OCs - something I wasn't doing often back then.

So, on August 25th 2022, I started playing Cyberpunk 2077, knowing nothing about the lore, with a sole intention of creating my character and seeing what happens. It was already late and my entire evening was sponsored by coffee, but whatever.

Crystal/Valerie/V

I'm not really sure how long it took me to create Crystal, but I spent an ungodly amount of time on perfecting her looks. I wanted her to look badass and beautiful, maybe end up being a cooler version of me. While I don't think I based her off my looks, my partner noticed that we have similar jawlines and hairstyles (well, I'm a natural blonde, which later I consciously reflected on her while creating her flashback version).

Needless to say, I instantly fell in love with her. And I know I wouldn't create a female character I wouldn't wanna date :>, but I really mean it. She was, and still is, simply perfect.

Her name was Crystal since the moment I was adding finishing touches (like makeup and tattoos), but I wasn't planning on giving her a standalone story. She was supposed to be V, with her name later revealed to be Valerie - a name I really like the sound of, and it fits her nicely. Still, in my mind her name was Crystal - and I have no idea why... she just looks like Crystal.

So here I was with my nomad V, ready to play through the prologue and possibly the rest of the game.

Playing through the game

My first evening of playing ended on me visiting Wakako (I don't even remember the reason you are supposed to go there tbh but if you played, you know these are still introductory quests) and photographing the hell out of C. My lesbian ass couldn't even be bothered to change FOV (and back then I couldn't really see the issue with default FOV screenshots - it took me months to adjust my eyes tbh) but she looked so badass. The photo mode, for industry standards, isn't that bad too, so I was really hyped to play the game, meet more people and shoot pics. While I already loved her friendship with Jackie and the way CDPR handled introduction to some of the cast, I wasn't sold on the story yet.

some of pics made on the first night :>

Then on the next day I went through The Heist and Love Like Fire, and learned that my actions as Johnny led to 2023 Night City Holocaust. Everyone who played through these quests know how full of events and emotions they are. It was 3/4am on Friday (technically Saturday) night, mind you, and I still was living mostly off coffee. That's a lot to take in for a tired mind and in some way it might have helped me immerse in Crystal's position even more. After waking up as her, with Jackie dead, and a parasite in my head that actively wants me to join him, I was just as clueless as to what the fuck happened. All I knew was that she/we need to survive. I can't let her/us die.

Let me tell you, waking up in her apartment, to the original version of Never Fade Away on the radio, was one of the most powerful moments in the game. To me, it has become a theme song for the rest of the playthrough. Leaving the apartment after getting some irl sleep was just as powerful.

the first time C left her apartment after Jackie's death and Johnny's flashback

The playthrough was going alright and I was hooked. I don't think there are many things worth talking about here. One thing worth mentioning is that I was starting to feel a strong connection with Crystal - something I've never felt to such an extent in any game. Maybe it's my background in corpo, which was only coming to an end. Or maybe I subconsciously designed her to help me with some of identity issues I had back then. I will never know for sure, but either way, she has helped me. She was exactly who I wanted her to be, who she wanted herself to be and was constantly brave and punk about it. I was feeling a growing mix of immersion and adoration as I progressed through the game.

And progress through the game I did! I finished plenty of gigs/ncpd jobs and all available side quests before starting the last mission chain (or so I thought - in the end I totally missed the vending machine one and the entirety of Kerry's questline lmao). During this time I was put out of misery of working my job, each day feeling more alive than the last, playing more and more hours of Cyberpunk 2077, shooting many pictures, enjoying my time in Night City and being Crystal.

yeah it might be using default fov but it's still one of my favorite shots

Last Tapeworm, Chipping In and dying

To me, Cyberpunk 2077 was at its best when it was focusing on the relationship between V and Johnny. Last part of Tapeworm was a very powerful moment. There's no way I'll ever forget the conversation she had with Johnny in that apartment. Going from a foe that actively eating your life away, to possibly the only person that's ready to sacrifice their life to save yours, Johnny and his redemption arc are some of the biggest highlights of the game.

The conversation was of course followed by a side quest sequence started with Chipping In, with another memorable scene at Johnny's grave. Seeing how far we've come together, how many people we met, how often we were agreeing with each other - it was like talking to a friend who was right by your side for every important event in your life. And to think that only few days ago I was watching him trying to smash her head against the window...

side quests really were the best part of the story

It's hard to say which moment was more impactful, but for me it all clicked just after the Tapeworm cutscene. If I remember it right, I spent a few minutes more in this apartment block, staring away at the sunset, listening to waves breaking Pacifica's silence. Not even sure if I'll manage to save Crystal, I wasn't ready to finish it anytime soon. I still had a lot to do and it took me an additional day to finish everything and start Nocturne OP55N1, but I was looking at the game differently than before.

It might sound dramatic, but I mean it. For the remaining duration of the game, each time I didn't hear any music, it was just silence of a big city dying from heatstroke and sandstorms, echoing conversations with people I met during my journey, and uncertainty, if I'll even make it out alive in the end. Unfortunately, I can't convey it any better, but it has to do with the atmosphere of this city and CDPR's natural talent for creating gray characters, which Cyberpunk 2077 is full of, and last but not least, my connection to Crystal.

Nocturne OP55N1

So the time has come for me to start the last mission sequence and I knew that it might go bad. The moment I was warned that it's a point of no return, I backed out and went for a walk around the city. Don't know if it was scripted, but the weather was overcast and NC was covered in fog. In my experience it's such a rare occurrence, that either I was "lucky" or it was planned. I visited Judy (VCrystal's sweetheart) for the last time, disappointed by the lack of new dialogues to start, and went back to Megabuilding H10 to see a cute heart made out of consumables by her. I went to sleep in my own bed, probably for the last time.

During my last journey to Embers, Major Crimes by Health started playing on the radio, and I got emotional. Not often games make me cry, but I really didn't want Crystal to die, or my journey to end. It really felt like I was saying goodbye to everyone and not going back.

just look at the weather - shot outside of Embers, before starting Nocturne Op55N1

In the end I managed to go through the Embers section just fine, but very stressed. Then, after suffering through heartbreaking moments at Viktor's Clinic, I got to the rooftop.

Now, I'm not really sure how much time I spent there. Seems like an eternity, looking back on it. No choice felt right (and in the end, none was perfect), but I had to choose something. Unable to decide, I did something I really hate doing - I looked up endings to see which one will let me live happily with Judy... or survive at the very least.

While I didn't know it yet, I chose the happiest ending of the bunch. All I knew is that Crystal will be able to leave Night City with Judy - I didn't know that it'll be impossible to remove the chip in Mikoshi and that there's hope of achieving it in Arizona. Yes, I chose The Star ending.

I still was on the edge of my sit and really scared for C, but deep down, I knew that I probably won't get another chance to mess it up.

The ending was bittersweet and I got an instant hangover. I needed some time to come to terms with it, and make peace with me not getting the happy ending. In the end I managed to create a brief scenario where that guy Panam knows somehow manages to remove the chip, and Crystal and Judy got to live happily ever after.

I beat the game on September 4th.

Feelings Feelings Feelings

See, there's a reason I'm talking about the ending and my feelings about it in such detail. I really fell in love with Crystal. After all, it's the first time I got so immersed into a character and I can't put my finger on why exactly.

Maybe it's because it's the prettiest character I have ever created, maybe I just saw parallels in our stories or feelings, maybe I subconsciously made up all the connections in my head. Meh, it's probably a bit of everything, on top of a really good story, even if most of it is hidden in side content.

The thing is, I was in the right place, at the right time and, like I said, it all just clicked.

Back then, I was tired, angry, feeling exploited and robbed of soul. She was there to help me stop thinking about it, get revenge in a way, even if on a fictional corporation, however dumb it might sound. And the more I was thinking about her, dressing her up in cool clothing (bra + edgerunner combo ftw), the more I strived to be like her. I learned to love myself a bit more, I started dressing up for myself again, putting some makeup on just to stare at the mirror and enjoy the end result, maybe even shoot some selfies. It's almost like, on top of everything I already said, I was trying to express myself through her, which has in return influenced me. I hope that makes sense.

Crystal Hartley

Now, it took me some time to create her own story and separate her from V. And I wouldn't probably do it if it wasn't for my s/o. She was already working on her OCs story, and after many tries she finally talked me into writing my girl. The last modification date of the document with the initial version of the story is February 25th - exactly 6 months after starting the game. Since then, I made some changes and the end result can be seen here. It helped me further resonate with her and she didn't have a deadly chip inside anymore, at the cost of her not getting to know Johnny. She remained a warrior, a true badass who's not scared of anything.

Honestly she was and still is inspiring me. Being it her as V or real Crystal I wrote a few months back, she suffered hardships, she had her all-time low moment not that long ago, but she recovered and she always stands brave against all odds - knowing that in the end everything will turn out just fine.

For now, C has got some closure. She's living in Night City, she has a loving and beautiful girlfriend she's thinking about all the time, they're still doing gigs and getting in trouble together <3 While she still recovers from what happened in her nomad family, she has Elegy, Misty, Claire and Saul to help her deal with it. She's in a good place right now.

Other girls

Some time ago I made EV, a girl that was originally a Cyberpunk version of my Evie from Red Dead Online, albeit I made her personality a polar opposite to Evie's. I don't have a lot about her, really - she's beautiful, photogenic, conveys vibes the best out of all of my OCs. She's probably going to end up as my canon V. She and Johnny are a match made in heaven... or hell. Actually if I put them together in the same body Night City might end up in flames.

Then there's Thalia. A girl I initially only mentioned as a friendly gang member in Crystal's mega lore post. She wasn't hanging around with Crystal's group of friends, but they got really close after getting to know each other during a party. Officially, she sacrificed herself to save Crystal and the rest when they got overrun by enemies. She did survive, with help of [REDACTED] and is looking for Crystal in Night City to reunite with her and [REDACTED]. Hopefully they meet soon! It'll probably bring some unpleasant memories back, but in the end Crystal will reunite with Thalia and, with Elegy, they'll make a dream team.

Some stats!

Why not wrap it up with some interesting data!

Since I started Cyberpunk 2077:

I got all the achievements and I intend on doing the same for Phantom Liberty

according to Xbox I played the game for 268 hours* **

I made 3405 captures, taking up a whopping 36 GB of space*

421 of these captures were made during my initial playthrough

* - at the time of writing ** - including time I was afk

Conclusion

So... I just wanted to post some thoughts about Cyberpunk 2077 and, especially, Crystal. Going from a game I wasn't even that stoked to play, to an ongoing hyperfixation, that has helped me through tough times and still influences me to this very day! I even made some internet friends!

When I was working on a standalone story for Crystal, I decided that her birthday is the day I first played the game - 25th August... today.

Happy birthday, Crystal <3

[warningsine]

Former colleagues and stars have paid tribute to Friends actor Matthew Perry, who died on Saturday night at his home in Los Angeles.

The 54-year-old actor, beloved for his performance in the hit sitcom as the sarcastic Chandler Bing, was found dead in an apparent drowning, his representative told NBC News. A Los Angeles fire department spokesperson confirmed first responders were called to Perry’s home in Pacific Palisades about a “water emergency”.

Maggie Wheeler, who played Chandler’s girlfriend Janice in Friends, said the joy Perry brought to “so many” in his “too short lifetime will live on”.

“I feel so very blessed by every creative moment we shared,” she wrote on Instagram.

Morgan Fairchild, who played Chandler’s mother Nora Bing, said: “I’m heartbroken about the untimely death of my ‘son’ … The loss of such a brilliant young actor is a shock.”

Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau, who knew Perry as a boy when Perry’s mother worked as an aide to his father, Canadian prime minister Pierre Trudeau, described his death was “shocking and saddening.”

“I’ll never forget the schoolyard games we used to play, and I know people around the world are never going to forget the joy he brought them. Thanks for all the laughs, Matthew. You were loved – and you will be missed,” he said.

The actor Wendell Pierce, who starred alongside Perry in the remake of The Odd Couple, wrote on X: “Damn. For two years Matthew Perry was my boss, my colleague, and a giving, kind, funny man. I pray and hope he is at peace.”

The actor Selma Blair wrote on Instagram that Perry was “my oldest boy friend”.

“All of us loved Matthew Perry, and I did especially. Every day,” Blair wrote. “I loved him unconditionally. And he me. And I’m broken. Broken hearted. Sweet dreams Matty. Sweet dreams.”

Mira Sorvino, who starred with Perry in the 1994 movie Parallel Lives, wrote on X: “Oh no!!! Matthew Perry!! You sweet, troubled soul!! May you find peace and happiness in Heaven, making everyone laugh with your singular wit!!!”

Actor Paget Brewster, who played Chandler’s girlfriend Kathy in season four of Friends, wrote on X: “He was lovely to me on Friends and every time I saw him in the decades after. Please read his book. It was his legacy to help. He won’t rest in peace though. He’s already too busy making everyone laugh up there.”

Meredith Salenger, who starred in A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon with Perry when he was 16, shared four photos of them together. “Matthew and I have known each other since [we] were 16 years old. Oh man. No words. Rest in peace sweet @MatthewPerry,” she said.

“What a tragic piece of news to read,” actor George Takei wrote. “My heart goes out to his loved ones and long time cast mates.”

Canadian-American comedian Tom Green wrote: “Shocked and saddened to just hear about the passing of Matthew Perry in a tragic drowning. He is one of the many talented and incredible success stories from my hometown of Ottawa Canada. Rest in peace Matthew.”

Broadcaster Piers Morgan called Perry “a great actor, but by his own admission, a very tormented guy. His recent autobiography about his addiction-ravaged life was one of the most powerful, honest and revealing I’ve ever read. Such sad news.”

Warner Bros Television Group, which produced Friends for its entire run from 1994 to 2004, said in a statement: “We are devastated by the passing of our dear friend Matthew Perry. Matthew was an incredibly gifted actor and an indelible part of the Warner Bros Television Group family. The impact of his comedic genius was felt around the world, and his legacy will live on in the hearts of so many. This is a heartbreaking day, and we send our love to his family, his loved ones, and all of his devoted fans.”

NBC, the network that aired Friends, said: “He brought so much joy to hundreds of millions of people around the world with his pitch perfect comedic timing and wry wit. His legacy will live on through countless generations.”

The official Friends account on X, formerly known as Twitter, shared: “We are devastated to learn of Matthew Perry’s passing. He was a true gift to us all. Our heart goes out to his family, loved ones, and all of his fans.”

[yellowmagicalgirl]

📽?????

Send me a 📽 and I’ll tell you about an animatic I’ll never make

So you probably haven't listened to Khyber Shards, but my brain is there and has been there for a while and since you're an anon I'm not gonna try to tailor this to any shared fandoms.

Also, tbh, my ideas are most heavily concentrated toward the front and back ends of the song.

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded - The players & DM all sitting around a gaming table. On the table, you can see the minis for the PC's, as seen in the prologue.

Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed - One of the players or DM picks up a d4 and rolls it. As they do so, it morphs into the pyramid-shaped floating citadel of the Twelve.

Everybody knows the war is over - We see Soryn walking with the Stryke Force, a group of Deneith guards hovering in the background.

Everybody knows the good guys lost - Daine and Thora look at each other, and briefly we see three other figures around them, with scribbles over where their faces are supposed to be. These three are supposed to represent their team, now dead.

The rest of the stanza as well as the next few stanzas would be dedicated to episodes 2-147 or so, and while I have some vague ideas for what scene goes where, I don't know quite where to place them (aside from under a cut)

Everybody got this broken feeling / Like their father or their dog just died - Something to do with Tommel. Maybe it's the map job, or maybe it's earlier.

Everybody talking to their pockets / Everybody wants a box of chocolates / And a long-stem rose - The Storm Lords discussing the fate of the Stryke Force. If this scene occurs on talking to their pockets, then box of chocolates is Thora rescuing the Stryke Force. If the scene is on box of chocolates, then the prior scene would tie more directly to the Twelve, while the scene after is Thora rescuing the Stryke Force. If the scene is long-stem rose, then there may not be a Thora rescue scene.

Everybody knows that you love me baby - either Pog and Solarka or Shade and Ari.

And everybody knows that it's now or never / Everybody knows that it's me or you - Either the Stryke Force heading over to Blackbriar or the Tommel vs Ari duel.

And everybody knows that you live forever / When you've done a line or two - Either both of Esri's deaths, Esri's first death contrasted with Ari's death (since Erandis brought both of them back), or Ari's deal with the Forgotten Prince contrasted by his deal with the Forgotten Queen. No matter what, Erandis has to be here.

And now we're back to me having a very good idea of pacing.

And everybody knows that the plague is coming - The Stryke Force faces the murderbot, Thora grabs its head, and forces gather near the manor.

Everybody knows that it's moving fast - smashcut of Daine, the Stryke Force, and Demise all making their way through the ziggurat

Everybody knows that the naked man and woman - Ari explains that they were all born with their marks (possibly with some more of the smashcut towards the front end of the lyric)

Are just a shining artifact of the past - Cardaen, with his eye sparkling for effect.

Everybody knows the scene is dead - Cardaen and Ari talk, and Cardaen clutches his head.

But there's gonna be a meter on your bed - As tribute to all the times I have misheard the lyric as "on your head", Demise touches Cardaen's head and casts Greater Restoration on him.

That will disclose - Cul'Sir kills Vadallia. This scene will bleed into the end of the previous lyric, as well, for timing purposes.

What everybody knows - Daine flying everyone back to Stormreach. The scene zooms in on a particular area of Stormreach, where...

And everybody knows that you're in trouble - Thora can be seen limping her way through the streets of Stormreach.

And everybody knows what you've been through - The scene glitches to Thora in a similar pose, back in Blackwheel. For stylization purposes, her face is currently on fire instead of the horrific burns being visible.

From the bloody cross on top of Calvary - Thora is captured by Blackwheel, but there is defiance on her face.

To the beach of Malibu - Glitch cut to Thora in the same pose, but in Stormreach, and there is a look of despair on her face instead.

Everybody knows it's coming apart - While held captive, a look of utter terror crosses Thora's face as Soryn walks into the room.

Take one last look at this sacred heart - Thora's communicator, surrounded by all the messages she has sent after she left the manor with the murderbot head. It's left unclear if she herself was the one to send them.

Before it blows - A panel split four ways between the Stryke Force and Daine. All of them are horrified, and as the lyric continues, each of their sections disappears, revealing the next scene beneath.

Everybody knows - One of two scenes. Either Thora is held at wandpoint, even more heavily injured than she was prior to Everybody knows it's coming apart, or she is fully healed, but her eyes are glowing a solid color as she points a sword at them.

[londonspirit]

“I inherited Marvel and the Russo Brothers’ casting choice of T’Challa. It is something that I will forever be grateful for. The first time I saw Chad’s performance as T’Challa, it was in an unfinished cut of CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR. I was deciding whether or not directing BLACK PANTHER was the right choice for me. I’ll never forget, sitting in an editorial suite on the Disney Lot and watching his scenes. His first with Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow, then, with the South African cinema titan, John Kani as T’Challa’s father, King T’Chaka. It was at that moment I knew I wanted to make this movie. After Scarlett’s character leaves them, Chad and John began conversing in a language I had never heard before. It sounded familiar, full of the same clicks and smacks that young black children would make in the States. The same clicks that we would often be chided for being disrespectful or improper. But, it had a musicality to it that felt ancient, powerful, and African.

In my meeting after watching the film, I asked Nate Moore, one of the producers of the film, about the language. “Did you guys make it up?” Nate replied, “that’s Xhosa, John Kani’s native language. He and Chad decided to do the scene like that on set, and we rolled with it.” I thought to myself. “He just learned lines in another language, that day?” I couldn’t conceive how difficult that must have been, and even though I hadn’t met Chad, I was already in awe of his capacity as actor.

I learned later that there was much conversation over how T’Challa would sound in the film. The decision to have Xhosa be the official language of Wakanda was solidified by Chad, a native of South Carolina, because he was able to learn his lines in Xhosa, there on the spot. He also advocated for his character to speak with an African accent, so that he could present T’Challa to audiences as an African king, whose dialect had not been conquered by the West.

I finally met Chad in person in early 2016, once I signed onto the film. He snuck past journalists that were congregated for a press junket I was doing for CREED, and met with me in the green room. We talked about our lives, my time playing football in college, and his time at Howard studying to be a director, about our collective vision for T’Challa and Wakanda. We spoke about the irony of how his former Howard classmate Ta-Nehisi Coates was writing T’Challa’s current arc with Marvel Comics. And how Chad knew Howard student Prince Jones, who’s murder by a police officer inspired Coates’ memoir Between The World and Me.

I noticed then that Chad was an anomaly. He was calm. Assured. Constantly studying. But also kind, comforting, had the warmest laugh in the world, and eyes that seen much beyond his years, but could still sparkle like a child seeing something for the first time.  

That was the first of many conversations. He was a special person. We would often speak about heritage and what it means to be African. When preparing for the film, he would ponder every decision, every choice, not just for how it would reflect on himself, but how those choices could reverberate. “They not ready for this, what we are doing…” “This is Star Wars, this is Lord of the Rings, but for us… and bigger!” He would say this to me while we were struggling to finish a dramatic scene, stretching into double overtime. Or while he was covered in body paint, doing his own stunts. Or crashing into frigid water, and foam landing pads. I would nod and smile, but I didn’t believe him. I had no idea if the film would work. I wasn’t sure I knew what I was doing. But I look back and realize that Chad knew something we all didn’t. He was playing the long game.  All while putting in the work. And work he did.

He would come to auditions for supporting roles, which is not common for lead actors in big budget movies. He was there for several M’Baku auditions. In Winston Duke’s, he turned a chemistry read into a wrestling match. Winston broke his bracelet. In Letitia Wright’s audition for Shuri, she pierced his royal poise with her signature humor, and would bring about a smile to T’Challa’s face that was 100% Chad.

While filming the movie, we would meet at the office or at my rental home in Atlanta, to discuss lines and different ways to add depth to each scene. We talked costumes, military practices. He said to me “Wakandans have to dance during the coronations. If they just stand there with spears, what separates them from Romans?” In early drafts of the script. Eric Killmonger’s character would ask T’Challa to be buried in Wakanda. Chad challenged that and asked, what if Killmonger asked to be buried somewhere else?

Chad deeply valued his privacy, and I wasn’t privy to the details of his illness. After his family released their statement, I realized that he was living with his illness the entire time I knew him. Because he was a caretaker, a leader, and a man of faith, dignity and pride, he shielded his collaborators from his suffering. He lived a beautiful life. And he made great art. Day after day, year after year. That was who he was. He was an epic firework display. I will tell stories about being there for some of the brilliant sparks till the end of my days. What an incredible mark he’s left for us.

I haven’t grieved a loss this acute before. I spent the last year preparing, imagining and writing words for him to say, that we weren’t destined to see. It leaves me broken knowing that I won’t be able to watch another close-up of him in the monitor again or walk up to him and ask for another take.

It hurts more to know that we can’t have another conversation, or facetime, or text message exchange. He would send vegetarian recipes and eating regimens for my family and me to follow during the pandemic.  He would check in on me and my loved ones, even as he dealt with the scourge of cancer.  

In African cultures we often refer to loved ones that have passed on as ancestors. Sometimes you are genetically related. Sometimes you are not. I had the privilege of directing scenes of Chad’s character, T’Challa, communicating with the ancestors of Wakanda. We were in Atlanta, in an abandoned warehouse, with bluescreens, and massive movie lights, but Chad’s performance made it feel real. I think it was because from the time that I met him, the ancestors spoke through him. It’s no secret to me now how he was able to skillfully portray some of our most notable ones. I had no doubt that he would live on and continue to bless us with more. But it is with a heavy heart and a sense of deep gratitude to have ever been in his presence, that I have to reckon with the fact that Chad is an ancestor now. And I know that he will watch over us, until we meet again.”

[midautumnnightdream]

Friendship

For Cosette Appreciation Week

*

If she was to be perfectly honest, Cosette wasn’t sure she liked the convent of Petit-Picpus all that much.

It was important to be Perfectly Honest: Mother Innocente had said as much, when she showed Cosette around the classrooms and the dormitories and explained all the Rules a schoolgirl must concern herself with. Being honest must have been the most important Rule of them all, for Mother Innocente had mentioned it no less than three times, her dark eyebrows forming a severe line under her coif as she peered down to Cosette.

(“Don’t lie to me, you little wretch” Madame had said, and truly Mother Innocente was nothing like Madame at all, except for the eagle sharpness of her gaze, the lightning abruptness of her movements and Cosette –)

Cosette had bowed her head and nodded and smiled and understood.

She had been nodding and smiling ever since she bade farewell to papa and uncle Fauvent earlier, promising to have fun and make friends and to study well. She had nodded and smiled though Mother Innocente’s lecture, and through introductions to the eight curious-eyed schoolgirls waiting in her dormitory, thankfully already in their beds, and to Mother Saint-Ange, who came to wake them in the morning and asked if she was settling in nicely.

(Cosette thought of the worry in her papa’s eyes, when he first explained that the convent was to become their new home. She thought of their nighttime flight through the streets, as strange and wondrous as a dimly recalled dream, and the odd adventure with uncle Fauvent’s melon basket. Madame was looking for her, papa had said. Madame was outside the convent and must be looking for her even now.

Honesty was important, Cosette understood. She also understood that to say Right Things was even more important.)

The dormitory was filled with chatter of eight sleepy little girls, going about their morning procedures: one struggling with her dress buttons, two braiding each other’s hair, several more grumbling over the early hour as they made their beds. Cosette, already dressed, hovered uncertainly by the window, casting wistful looks at the gardener’s hut, just visible in the predawn light of early March, as she tried to ignore the curious glances thrown her way. Papa had tried to comb and braid her hair, she recalled, during their first days in Paris. However not even the most gentle teasing could untangle the knots, let alone the sticky patch that papa had declared with some wonderment to be stained with wood resin. He had seemed so terribly sad when he cut her hair, despite Cosette’s assurances that she didn’t mind at all.

All the same, she thought with a pang, it would be nice to have someone make her braids.

It wouldn’t be so bad, she thought to herself, as Mother-Saint-Ange came back to usher the group to their morning prayers, if she could live in the little house with papa and uncle Fauvent. She liked the gardener’s hut; it was small and warm and cosy, much cosier even than their room in the Gorbeau house. The convent was too big, too dark, and filled with strangers – far more strangers than Cosette had expected, she realised as they entered the church. She kept an eye on her companions, carefully copying each action, but her mind was much too preoccupied to focus on prayer. She wondered if her papa was present in the church, in some secret corner out of sight of the students. He must be, she decided, and allowed herself to relax into the moment of imagined closeness.

All too soon the girls were sent to their way towards refectory. Cosette trailed after her dormitory mates, anxiously aware of the whispered conversation that had broken out and the glances thrown her way. She crumpled her apron tight between her fingers as she steeled herself for the inevitable encounter.

If Cosette was Perfectly Honest – and Mother Superior had been very insistent on that point – this merry group had worried her more than the nuns, or echoing corridors, or the looming promise of the lessons that she felt terribly unprepared for. Certainly, the nuns intimidated her, but she knew, knew that they were nothing like Madame, that papa would never leave her someplace terrible, or allow another adult to hurt her. But the girls were a different matter. Cosette had listened to their conversations, peppered with references to things she knew nothing about, observed their manners and the games they played, and had instantly understood that these girls were true little ladies like ‘Ponine and ‘Zelma – perhaps even more so. Surely these girls could tell that she wasn’t like them, that she didn’t belong here – and once they realised that, well. At best they would simply dismiss her like the children in Montfermeil, and ignore her until she inevitably got in their way, but then? Certainly they would complain to the nuns about having to share their room with l‘Alouette, the werewolf child, and she would be punished for lying, maybe even thrown out and sent back to Madame?

This won’t happen. Cosette reminded herself. Papa would never allow it. If the nuns don’t let us stay, we’ll just have to run away again. Thus reassured, she felt almost ready to face the tribunal, when one of the girls exclaimed “Well, just ask her!” and turned to face Cosette.

Cosette slowed. The girl was three or four years older than her own peers, and judging by the avid gazes following her progress, a subject to some interest. The solemnity of her gaze was rather reminiscent of the prioress; she stopped in front of Cosette and demanded:

“Crickets or spiders?”

Cosette blinked.

The girl’s lips twitched ever so slightly, but her serious gaze didn’t waver.

“Do you prefer crickets or spiders?”

Cosette rallied herself. “Crickets,” she said.

The girl grinned. “That’s well! You will come join us in the Cricket Corner. We’re closest to the kitchen.”

Cosette blinked again. “Will there be... crickets there then?” she asked, feeling a bit foolish.

Her new companion only smiled amiably. “There might well be. There might be caterpillars and wood-louses too. Possibly spiders. You’re not afraid of spiders, are you?”

Cosette shook her head. “Not at all,” she answered, more or less truthfully. She wasn’t afraid of spiders, not really, but something about watching the flies twitching and trapped in their webs gave her a funny feeling.

The older girl smiled her approval. “That’s good,” she said, and then added. “I’m Anne-Marie Bouchard.”

She then continued to introduce every girl who followed them into the Cricket Corner, before pointing out and naming a number of pupils from the other tables who she declared to be “of interest.” Cosette, seated between Anne-Marie on her right hand and her dormitory mate Jeanine on her left, tried her best to keep up with the sudden flood of information, until paternoster put an abrupt end to all conversation.

The breakfast itself was a hushed affair, not even a whisper interrupting the story of Saint Genevieve, read by one of the big girls from a pulpit under the crucifix. Cosette considered her new friends with a mixture of bafflement and gratitude as they ate, her natural shyness warring with the urge to offer them something, to give back a little bit of the kindness and trust that was extended to her.

“Do you know, I always quite liked crickets,” she eventually confessed, as the pupils gathered around ronds d’eau to wash their cups. “I used to listen to them when everyone had gone to sleep, and sometimes I thought, if I followed the crickets, they would take me to my mama.” She flushed and fell silent.

However, her story seemed to delight Anne-Marie. “Adventure! Oh but I like this!”

“Were you fostered in the country too then?” asked Jeanine. “I used to live in Montmartre for years. My brother Alain, he was terribly sickly when he was born, so we were both sent to live in a vineyard. But mama still came to visit us all the time. Did your mama not visit?”

“My mama is dead,” replied Cosette.

“Oh!” Jeanine flushed. “Is that why you stayed fostered for so long?”

“Yes that’s why,” Cosette said, then added, as a guilty tribute to honesty “I didn’t like it there. Living with papa was much better.”

“It is a pity,” Jeanine sympathised. “I really missed Montmartre at first, and then I missed living with my parents. When I first came here, I cried all night! But I got used to it, and now I’d miss the school just as much!”

“Ah children! you’re easy to please!” said Anne-Marie a little dryly. But upon seeing the expressions on the younger girls’ faces, she relented a bit. “All the same, it’s truly not so bad, this place. You can have a lot of fun here, if you let yourself.”

Perhaps sometimes, Cosette reflected, Perfect Honesty simply meant repeating the Right Things until you could make them become true. “I’m sure I will,” she promised.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH12

It’s ya boooooy! Malin is here!! Super huge shout out to @salty-french-fry for bringing him to life. I commissioned her to draw all of my OC hero babies, so you can see Malin in all of his anime boy glory here! We stan a trans bicon. And for those who are unaware, Malin is another name for fox in French, but like with the connotation of calling someone sly or tricky. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tweaked it quite a bit from the original. ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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

Chapter 12: WTF Do I Know

“I know our duty is to the city, but I can’t help these feelings stirring my heart. Every time I see her brilliant blue eyes shining in the moonlight, I am overcome with passion and admiration. She truly is Miraculous.” Eliott looked to Marinette sitting cross-legged on the floor for approval. “How was that?”

“Incredible! You really have Chat Noir down,” she said.

Eliott rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but I still feel like I could do better. Opening night is only a week away, and I’m playing one of the leads. Everything has to be perfect.” He paced the length of the stage, adjusting his black mask.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You make a wonderfully convincing Chat Noir.” She assured him—and she should know.

“Wonderfully convincing isn’t perfect. This play is a tribute to Ladybug and Chat Noir’s triumph on Heroes’ Day. If I screw up then I’ll be dishonoring them.” He turned and gestured to the impressive backdrop of the Eiffel Tower.

“No, you won’t.” Marinette stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re an amazing actor, and I know you’re gonna kill it.”

“Places in five everyone!” The director swept through the stage.

Stagehands rushed around the set. Costume designers made last-minute alterations, and each prop was meticulously tested and placed for ease of access during scene changes. Marinette never realized how chaotic theater was behind the scenes.

Eliott let a deep breath past his lips, and Marinette offered him a smile. “I’ll be watching in the audience. You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for coming to watch our dress rehearsal.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Sorry I’m so crazy about everything, I just want to be the best.” He fiddled with his gloves. “I’ve been studying English since I was little because my dream is to perform on Broadway. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s what I’ve wanted ever since my grandma and I watched a play together when I was a kid.”

“You’ll get there, and I’ll be sitting in the front row with Macy, Martin, and Adrien.”

Eliott smiled at that, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I actually owe you, Marinette. You’ve helped me a lot as an actor since we met.”

“Me? How?”

“You taught me to take risks. Before I met you, I was just coasting through life, staying out of the way, playing it safe, but now I can stand up for other people and speak out,” he explained. “You helped me find the courage to step outside my comfort zone.”

Her cheeks burned, but she smiled at the sentiment. All of her new friends gave praise so easily—something Marinette wasn’t used to. Helping others wasn’t about getting rewarded, and in most cases, the attention just made her squirm. She helped her friends because she cared. Although, even if their compliments embarrassed her, it was nice to know she was appreciated.

“Watch where you’re going!” A nasally voice grabbed their attention.

“Sorry!” A tiny stagehand shrank under the icy glare of her aggressor.

Eliott sprang into action to diffuse the situation. “Margot, is there a problem?”

“She bumped into me! Can you imagine if I had fallen and broken my wrist a week before opening night? How can I play Ladybug with a broken wrist?” Margot shouted.

Eliott stepped between her and the stagehand, holding up defensive hands. “I’m sure it was just an accident. No one got hurt, so why don’t you go cool off? We’re almost ready to start.”

“Ugh, whatever. Just stay out of my way!”

As she stalked off, Eliott turned to the small girl. “Are you okay, Lisette?”

“You know my name?” Her eyes widened.

“Of course. You hand me my props before I go on stage,” he said. “Don’t let Margot get to you. She’s just nervous because the show is in a week, and it’s her first time playing a lead.”

“It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Lisette said.

Eliott tucked a strand of her blonde hair back into place, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re all a little high strung right now.”

“You’re not.”

Eliott flashed her a playful grin. “I’m a good actor.”

“I know,” she said, and when Eliott quirked a brow she fumbled to add, “I-I’ve kind of had to watch you for the past several months. You’re really good.”

“Wow, thanks, Lisette. I’m flattered that a pretty girl like you is a fan of mine,” Eliott said.

Her cheeks flushed, and she gave a small nod before scurrying off to her position at the director’s order.

Marinette couldn’t help the smile on her lips as Eliott found his mark and took a few deep breaths to center himself. He’d grown a lot since they met, and if someone had to play Chat Noir, she was glad it was him. She’d been uncertain at first, but Eliott really was worthy of being a hero, even if his costar was the worst. How could they cast such a brat to play Ladybug?

Taking her seat in the audience, Marinette thought back to her encounter with Gabrielle several nights prior. True to her word, Gabrielle hadn’t bothered them since, but what she was doing out on her own like that? And what was up with the apron in her bag? Something fishy was going on with her, but at least she was keeping her word. It was about time Marinette got some peace and quiet.

♪♫♪ I’m Not Calling You a Liar ♪♫♪

When the school bell rang, Alya remained seated, lips pursed. Her other classmates gathered their backpacks, eager to enjoy their weekend plans. Adrien paid her no mind as he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed everyone else out. They hadn’t spoken since their last encounter, and Alya still wasn’t sure what to think. He sounded so sure of himself. After being friends with Marinette, she knew far more about Adrien Agreste than she ever cared to, and truthfully, Alya didn’t think he was capable of being malicious.

Don’t believe everything Lila tells you. Be a journalist. Investigate.

But how? It’s not like Alya could just call up a bunch of celebrities and foreign princes to ask them to corroborate all of Lila’s stories, and even if she could, what would Lila think if they proved Adrien wrong? Or worse, what would Alya think if they proved him right? If they proved Marinette right…

It had been two weeks since she left. Two weeks since they… Alya had been hurt at first, and her heart still ached thinking about it now. In the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t known Marinette that long—only a few months—so it was possible that there were things Alya didn’t know about her. Dark secrets she kept hidden. But if that were possible for Marinette, couldn’t the same be true for Lila? And why was Alya so afraid to go looking?

“Alya? Did you hear me?”

She blinked out of her trance. “Sorry, what?”

“You’ve been awfully spacey lately,” Lila remarked. “I was just saying that I have an important meeting today with my youth ambassadors committee. Clara Nightingale has promised to sponsor our clean water initiative, and today’s the only day we can meet with her. Is there any way you can take care of that thing Mlle. Bustier needed for me?”

Don’t believe her.

“Actually, Lila, I have to go pick up my little sisters because Nora has practice this afternoon, and Mlle. Bustier did ask you to do it,” Alya said.

Lila’s eyebrows raised, but just as quickly, she puckered her lips into a pout. “Is there any way you could have Nino pick up your sisters? This meeting is really important.”

“Nino promised Juleka he’d help Kitty Section with their sound system today so they can practice before their gig this weekend.” Her heart pounded as Lila’s lip twitched.

“I mean, I guess I can put off my meeting. Those kids in India will just have to go a little while longer without clean drinking water…” Lila eyed her.

“Ya know, if you’re too busy to keep up with your class rep stuff, you can always tell Mlle. Bustier to let us elect someone else. I’m sure everyone would understand,” Alya said pointedly.

“And let Chloe become the class rep again? I couldn’t do that to you guys.” Lila shook her head.

“True, but I can’t cover for you all the time. I have my own stuff going on. Maybe I’m not saving third world countries, but sometimes I have a life to live too,” Alya said. “You were elected to do all of this, you know.”

“No, I understand,” Lila sighed. “I’ve been putting too much pressure on you to do my job. It’s just so hard to juggle going to school and saving the world. I’ll figure out a way to do it for all of you because you’re my friends, and my friends are just as important to me as any starving, third-world country.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that you’ll be putting in more effort.” Alya stood up. “Have a good weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sure my weekend will be better than those thirsty children in Iran.”

Alya stopped in the doorway. “Don’t you mean in India?”

“What?”

“Earlier you said the meeting was for children in India. Now you just said Iran,” Alya said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Lila said. “I have a different thing for Iran next week. It’s hard to keep everything straight when you’re so busy.”

“Right.” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “Well, good luck.”

“Give your sisters a hug for me!”

Alya’s hands shook as she headed up the hall. It was probably nothing, just a simple mix up like she said, but… Given the circumstances, it was a little suspicious. One thing was certain: Alya would be keeping an eye on her.

♪♫♪ Thnks fr th Mmrs ♪♫♪

“Your rehearsal was amazing,” Marinette said afterward over tea. “Well, except for Margot’s prop mishap. I thought she was going to have a meltdown.”

Eliott stirred his drink with a smirk. “She’s a great actress until something goes wrong,” he chuckled. “I just feel bad for Lisette. She looked like she wanted to kill her.”

“Speaking of Lisette…” Marinette gave him a knowing look. “I think she might have a crush on you.”

“Lisette? Nah.” Eliott averted his gaze, taking a sip of his tea. “I’m not anyone important. There’s no way she’d be into me.”

“That’s not true. You’re an amazing actor,” Marinette said. “I mean that, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks, I guess the thought of someone liking me just makes me nervous.” He bit his lip.

“Come on. You flirt with everyone all the time,” Marinette said. “You flirted with me on my first day of school.”

“Flirting is different. Just because I flirt with people doesn’t mean they have to like me back,” he said, then biting his lip, added, “Do you really think she likes me?”

“As someone who struggles to get two coherent sentences out around the boy she likes, I think she likes you more than you know,” Marinette said.

“Speaking of… You and Adrien sure seem to get along.” He sipped his tea with a satisfied smirk as Marinette’s cheeks burned. He didn’t waste any time flipping the script, but it was her fault for opening that door.

“Oh, do we? I mean, of course we do. We’re just friends, I don’t have feelings for him at all,” she said with a nervous titter.

“I never said you did,” Eliott said.

“Oh, um, yeah, well then I- don’t tell Macy.” She hung her head in defeat.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He shrugged. “But you don’t have to worry about Macy’s crush. It’s superficial. She fixates on some famous guy for a while, then moves on when something new catches her eye.”

Marinette relaxed. “Good. I’ve just liked Adrien for a long time, and ever since I left my old school, he’s been paying more attention to me, so…I don’t want it to come between us.”

“Nah, I’m sure if she knew she’d back off,” Eliott assured her. “She’s extremely loyal to her friends and would never try to take away something you wanted even if she wants it too. One time she and I argued for twenty minutes because she convinced herself I wanted the last cookie on the plate. We ended up breaking it in half.”

“That’s a relief.” Marinette let out a breath.

“Though I do have to wonder which sounds better, Marinette Agreste or Adrien Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette nearly choked on her tea. “Eliott!”

“I’m kinda partial to Adrien Dupain-Cheng myself.”

“Stop!” She covered her face, cheeks burning, and Eliott threw his head back with a laugh.

A herd of people stampeded up the sidewalk right before a loud crash sounded a few blocks over. Debris fell from the ceiling, and Eliott tackled Marinette to the ground, cradling her head.

“That sounded close, we should run.” He pulled her to her feet. “My yacht isn’t far from here, we can hide there.”

As much as she hated to do it, Marinette needed to get away. Gradually, she let herself slip from his grasp in the crowd. Eliott turned over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her again, but too many people stood between them.

“Marinette!”

“Go! I’ll catch up,” she called.

His eyebrows furrowed worriedly, but he pressed on without question.

Marinette ducked into a nearby alley and opened her purse. “Ready, Tikki? Transform me!”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo across the street, tugging the slack and launching herself into the rooftops. Racing down the row of buildings, she followed the civilian trail to the scene of the attack. Overturned cars and broken windows signaled that she was on the right track, and she arrived at the same time as Chat Noir.

“Well, well we meet again, m’lady.” His flirtatious lilt echoed between the buildings as he staff-coptered down to join her.

“I would hope so since saving the city is our job.” She flicked his bell. “I think it’s about time we clocked in, don’t you?”

“Ladies first.” Chat Noir bowed as Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot into action. “Don’t mean to interrupt your tirade, but I’m gonna need to see some license and registration for that car,” he said as they landed. “What’s the matter? Rough break up?”

The akuma turned to them with a growl, tossing the car aside, and Ladybug spotted a small blonde girl cowering underneath.

“Civilian alert!”

“On it.” Chat Noir charged forward, brandishing his staff.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! I am Showstopper, and I’m about to give Paris the performance of a lifetime after I get rid of her.”

The small girl on the ground cowered under Showstopper’s glare, her blonde buns oddly familiar…

Ladybug gasped. “That’s Lisette which means Showstopper must be Margot! She really was upset by that mistake.”

Lisette attempted to run, but Showstopper served a ball of light at her with the tennis racket—the lucky charm prop from the play and likely where the akuma was hiding. The attack froze Lisette in place, but before Showstopper could make her next move, she blocked a blow from Chat Noir’s staff. A few seconds passed, and the magic faded, sending Lisette toppling forward.

“So that’s it,” Ladybug said, then to Chat Noir called, “Don’t let her hit you, or she’ll freeze you for a few seconds!”

“Got it!” He dodged an orb.

Once Showstopper drove him back several paces, she dashed after Lisette, launching a bus to the end of the street to block the exit.

“Going somewhere?”

“No, but you are.” Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Showstopper’s ankle. Showstopper lobbed several orbs at her before she could pull the slack, and Ladybug backflipped out of the way, diving for cover with Chat Noir behind two flipped cars.

“We need a plan to get that girl out of here.” He peeked over the side.  

Ladybug palmed her yoyo. “Lucky Charm!” Her eyebrows raised as a paper lantern landed in her hands.

“Oh great, you can light the way for her to wreck that girl,” Chat Noir said.

Ladybug pursed her lips contemplatively. “I need to go to Master Fu,” she said. “Can you handle things until I get back?”

“Just don’t keep me waiting too long.” Chat Noir nodded before they broke off.

Leaving in the middle of a battle was always risky, but this wasn’t a fight they could win alone. She just hoped that she could find an ally in time.

“Master Fu?” Marinette knocked, peeking her head inside.

“What is it, Marinette?” He glanced up from his book.

“I need to borrow a Miraculous to win this battle.”

Master Fu retrieved the Miracle Box from the phonograph and placed it on the mat in front of her. “Have you found someone you trust to wield it?”

Marinette contemplated her choices carefully, running strategies in her head. After she and Alya split up, she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust someone enough to replace Rena Rouge, but her new friends proved her wrong. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and reached for the fox. “I know exactly who to pick, and I won’t let you down this time.”

Master Fu offered her one of his proud, grandfatherly smiles. “You never have. I have always had faith in you, Marinette.”

Her chest swirled with pride as she stood up. “Transform me.”

Eliott’s yacht was empty when Ladybug touched down on the deck. He told Marinette to hide there, so she’d been certain it was where he’d be. Then again, Eliott wasn’t the same cowardly boy he’d been when they met, and he didn’t turn his back on a friend. She knew where to find him.

“Marinette?” His voice echoed between the buildings of the abandoned street, and he flinched when Ladybug landed behind him. “Ladybug! Thank goodness, have you seen my friend Marinette? We got separated, and I told her to meet at my yacht, but-”

“Don’t worry. She’s safe,” Ladybug said. “Actually, I need your help.”

“My help?” He arched a brow. “I mean, sure, I'll do anything.”

“Eliott Chasse, this is the Miraculous of the fox which grants the power of illusion. You will use it to fight for the greater good.” She extended the box to him.

“Whoa, you're giving me a Miraculous?” he gasped. “But wait, why me? What happened to Rena Rouge?”

“She's...not around.” Ladybug averted her gaze. “Will you help me?”

“I-I dunno. I think my friend Marinette would be way better at this than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Eliott…” Ladybug smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are the right person for this job. Have courage and believe in yourself. That's all you need to be a superhero.”

Eliott pressed his lips together, then accepted the box with a nod. Shielding his eyes from the bright light, he gaped in disbelief as Trixx materialized. “Whoa!”

“My name’s Trixx. I’m a kwami, and if you want to transform all you have to say is ‘Trixx, transform me!’” she explained as Eliott fastened the clasp of the necklace.

“Alright then. Trixx, transform me!” When the orange light faded, Eliott examined his orange and white suit with wide eyes. “Wait, is this really happening?”

“Do you know how your powers work?” Ladybug asked. There was no time to waste.

“Of course. I studied news footage in preparation for my role as Chat Noir in an upcoming play. I wanted to accurately portray the team's dynamic,” he said.

“Good, then follow me.”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot off. Eliott hesitated only briefly, taking a few steps before leaping over the building after her. He touched down lightly beside her before they shot off again.

“I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have a lot of time,” Ladybug said. She pulled up the news coverage of the akuma. Showstopper had taken the battle all the way to the Eiffel Tower. She skidded to a stop behind a chimney and closed her yoyo. “Hmm…Lucky Charm!”

“A bottle of soap? At least the villain will be squeaky clean?” Eliott shrugged.

Ladybug turned it over in her hands, a plan forming in her mind. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do.”

- - -

Showstopper held a frozen Lisette over the edge, and Chat Noir held up defensive hands as he attempted to negotiate.

“Hand over your Miraculous, or I'll drop her!”

“Maybe we can come to a compromise,” he reasoned, but Showstopper was in no mood.

“You have five seconds. One!”

“There has to be something else you want.”

“Two.”

“After all this is murder we're talking about.”

“Three!”

“I'm sure she didn't mean any harm.”

“Four!”

“Ladybug, hurry up!”

“Five!”

Before Chat could react, Showstopper released her grip, sending Lisette plunging toward her doom. Chat Noir attempted to dive after her, but Showstopper pitched another orb at him. To his relief, Ladybug swung in to deflect it just in time, but there was no time for gratitude.

“Ladybug! The girl!”

“Already taken care of,” she assured him.

- - -

Lisette unfroze midway down, eyes widening in fear as the ground grew closer. Just as a scream reached her throat, Eliott caught her, carrying her safely back to the Eiffel Tower. Her screams echoed across the bars as she clung to him for dear life, but they quieted the moment she looked into his eyes.

“Falling from heaven, angel?” He set her down gently. “Stay hidden. Showstopper can't see you if we want our plan to work.”

She blinked in shock, cheeks flushing. “Wait!” She caught his wrist as he turned to leave. “W-Who are you?”

“Uh… Call me Malin.” He winked, giving a two-finger salute before leaping up to the rafters.

Malin summoned his Mirage on the way up, cheeks still hot. Now wasn’t the time to worry about what Lisette thought of him. First, he needed to save her.

“You're too late!” Showstopper proclaimed, and Malin cleared his throat.

“Are we?” He clocked a brow.

Showstopper spun around where Malin held his fake damsel. “No!” she growled.

“New friend?” Chat Noir sized him up.

“I'll tell you later,” Ladybug said.

Malin set his illusion free with instructions to run, and as expected, Showstopper gave chase. Ladybug really was a wizard at coming up with plans. When Chat Noir moved to follow, Malin stepped in front of him with a wink.

“Who are you?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“Name's Malin, and you are one foxy feline in person, Chat Noir.” He looked him up and down.

“Less flirting, more running. Phase two,” Ladybug ordered. “Kitty, follow me and get ready to use your Cataclysm. Malin, you know what to do.”

“On it.” Malin nodded, leaping back over the edge with a whoop.

Showstopper pursued the fake Lisette to the second-floor restaurants, falling right into their trap. She skidded against the soapy floor as Malin's illusion faded before her eyes. A broom perched between two chairs clotheslined her, sending her tennis racket flying from her grasp right into Chat Noir's waiting Cataclysm.

Malin helped Margot up as Ladybug captured the akuma and returned everything to normal. “Seriously, losing your cool over a prop malfunction is so lame.” He chided. “You're playing Ladybug, so my suggestion is: take a lesson from the real thing and let go of that bad energy.”

Lisette peeked up from the stairs timidly, pacing over to join them. “I'm sorry your yoyo string was tangled. I should have checked it,” she said.

“Yeah, whatever.” Margot rolled her eyes. “Sorry I tried to throw you off the Eiffel Tower.”

“Technically, you did throw her off the Eiffel Tower,” Chat Noir said pointedly.

“You were awesome, Malin.” Ladybug nudged him with her elbow.

“It was your plan, all I did was help.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Ladybug shook her head. “You saved this girl, and we couldn't have done it without you. Be proud. You're a true superhero.”

Malin bit back a smile, surveying his suit and squaring his shoulders with a new sense of purpose. Ladybug was right. He had his doubts when she asked him because he still had a long way to go before he would consider himself an actual hero. If anyone deserved the title without a Miraculous, it was Marinette, and he owed this opportunity to her. He never would have had the courage to accept Ladybug’s offer without her. It was a shame she’d never know how much she truly changed his life. Maybe one day he could tell her this secret, but for now, he’d wear his secret identity like an invisible badge of honor.

“Pound it!” The three heroes said in unison.

Malin turned to Lisette and bowed formally. “Perhaps I will save you again someday,” he said.

Lisette bit her lip before stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ladybug took his wrist and toted him off as a dopey grin spread across his lips. They retreated to a private corner at the base of the tower, and Malin returned the necklace to Ladybug. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Eliott shifted his gaze to his shoes with a sigh.

“What's wrong?” Ladybug asked.

“Nothing, just… Lisette kissed Malin, not Eliott.” He kicked at the ground.

“You really like her, don't you?” Ladybug asked.

Eliott flinched, rubbing the back of his neck. That morning the thought of falling in love with someone terrified him, but now… Maybe he hadn’t come down from his heroic high, but with Lisette’s kiss still burning on his cheek, he smiled.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

“Well, Malin is very charming, but I think she might need someone to walk her home. Think Eliott can handle that?” Ladybug pointed to where Lisette was stepping off the elevator.

Have courage and believe in yourself.

On any other day, the fear of rejection would have convinced him to walk away, and maybe tomorrow it would. But today, today he wasn’t afraid.

“Lisette! Wait up.”

[depressedacadamia]

Fight Me Part 2

Summary: Nico prepares for his date but it seems someone has forgotten.

Warnings?: Nothing much. A bit of kissing. Some fluff.

A/N: FJLKJLHGK, I completely forgot that i wrote this and that i was gonna write a part 2. Anyway, my exams are next week and i haven't revised so wish me luck. Little tribute for @thebigqueer and their old blog description of ‘people make fun of me because I’m short but I can reach their knees’ because lateron, Nico embodies that. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! <3 from me!

Read Part 1 on tumblr       Read parts 1 and 2 on A03

It was 7:30

Will was late.

“Hello?” Nico turned around. “Anybody here?”

The sun was going to set in around an hour and half and somehow, the sky was already getting darker. Nico could feel the sun's rays getting weaker and the warmth slowly draining away.

He had a small bag clutched in his hand with a collection of his favourite mythomagic cards and a couple of sandwiches and some bottles of juice. It certainly wasn’t a banquet but at least it was something and Nico had assumed that Will would have had a tiring day after working in the infirmary during a day of capture the flag ( The Ares kids were always involved).

He lifted his wristwatch to his line of view to glance at the time, noticing that the time was moving annoyingly fast. If it continued like this, it would be sunset and Nico would have officially been stood up. He could feel his chest prickling in anxiety from the idea- that all along it was a sick joke, made only so everyone could make fun of him.

“Hello? Anybody?” It was almost eight and Nico was getting agitated. Sure it was normal to be a bit late, even if it was a date that Will had asked him on but 45 minutes? 45 minutes late to a date? Nico was finally so sick of pacing behind his cabin like a loser, he worked up the nerve to march over to the infirmary to give Will a piece of his mind.

As Nico entered what he believed to be the infirmary, he questioned if he was in the right place. Then it hit him. The infirmary was so crowded, Nico couldn’t even recognise it. It was full of campers, from many different cabins, all covered in injuries and blood. This room, to surgeons, was like candy but with blood, which as Christina Yang had said- was way better,

That was only, of course, if you weren’t meant to be on a date with your cute ex-patient.

To Will, the sudden influx of patients infuriated him. He was meant to be having the best date of his life with Nico but instead, he ws here treating all these stupid injured buffalos who were too incompetent to prevent themselves from being injured.

“Next time, if an Ares kid threatens to break your leg, you should take them more seriously,” Will sighed as he finished the cast on the Athena camper’s leg. Weren’t these ones meant to be smart, Will thought.

His eyes searched across the infirmary, for the next most urgent patient; as head of the Apollo cabin, he was in charge of the infirmary which at first had sounded great. Now, he realised, it was not.

He was about to assist on setting a broken arm but he saw another healer get there first and simultaneously, he saw a very recognisable set of onyx eyes that came with a stunning appearance.

Nico was wearing black skinny ripped jeans with a chain hanging by the waist of it. His stygian iron sword that never left his side was being held to his waist with a skull strap and Nico’s eyeliner was absolutely perfect. Winged and angelic, his eyes were standing out like never before. Nico had been a bit nervous about wearing eyeliner outside of his cabin, but after much persuasion from Hazel, Jason and Percy, he had agreed to wear it.

Will thought he felt his mouth drop. But then, he felt his heart drop. Why was Nico in the infirmary? Was he involved in the fight? Was he hurt? Will rushed over to Nico, pushing through the injured masses, ignoring their shouts and snaps of discomfort. He waded through them like thick oceans of blood until he managed to spot Nico’s hand, decorated with expensive looking rings.

“Nico,” Will gasped, his eyes running up and down, scanning his body for injuries. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Nico’s winged eyes squinted. “ What am I doing here? Did you forget?”

Will’s mouth opened and then closed again, his brain clearly racking for what he had forgotten.

“Our date. You were meant to meet me an hour ago,” He mumbled, raising his wrist to his face, checking the time once again.

Will’s face dropped, his expression ghostly. “ No! No, no, I can’t have forgotten- it wasn’t today. I could have sworn it wasn’t today.” He turned to Nico. “ It wasn’t today, right?”

“It was today.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s a good response, at least,” Nico murmured, kicking his boots at the bloodied tile floor.

“I'm so sorry. I got hoarded with patients, like hoarded. The Ares kids had some new weapons made today and the Hephaestus kids thought it would be fun to mess with them. Somehow the Athena kids got involved and I think there are some Dionysus kids who got involved just for the drama.” Will grabbed Nico's hands, squeezing them with such intensity, Nico feared they might break.

When Nico looked at Will’s face at that moment, he knew he was going to say ‘yes’ to whatever was about to be asked of him. Whether Will just wanted some gum or if he wanted to burn the entire world; there was something alluring in those eyes that Nico could simply never deny. “Nico, fuck, please give me another chance. I know I shouldn't have stood you up like that and I really wasn't planning to. It’s just, we got so many patients all at once that it completely slipped from my mind and-”

“-I’m not mad. A bit annoyed, yes, but I get it. You have people to fix. Go do your job.” Nico paused for a moment. “But one thing. Next time you almost stand me up, a note or a messenger would have been nice.”

Will frowned. “I thought I sent a note?”

Nico paused again. Did he send a note? Nico’s memory racked- did anybody come to give him a note? He couldn’t distinctly remember it.

The only thing he remembered was someone running to his cabin, panting and him slipping himself into the shadows, avoiding whichever body had come wandering into his domain- he had not been in the mood to interact with anybody other than Will (Or maybe Hazel or Annabeth because they always knew what to say and when to say it).

Woops.

“Oh, That note you mean. I might have hidden from the messenger in the shadows…” Nico trailed off, looking everywhere but Will. Expecting a loud scoff or perhaps a jeer, Nico could feel his hands clenching up, ready to get him out of this situation. But when he heard a little giggle and saw Will giving him a genuine little smile and holding out his hand, he couldn’t help but be surprised.

“I know that I’m currently meant to be working but I guess taking a little break couldn’t hurt. Besides, I haven't eaten a proper meal all day and those sandwiches look delicious.”

Nico happily let Will lead him to the room reserved for the staff who were in this case, just the Apollo kids. But then he stopped.

“You haven't eaten all day? Will, what the hell? You were nagging me the entire of my stay here to eat and you don't even do it yourself?”

“I do eat, it’s just sometimes, I forget to because everybody is being stupid and trying to fight their healers,” Will huffed as he grabbed a sandwhich and stuffed a bite into his mouth.

“What idiot tries to fight their healers?” Nico asked as he took a sip of juice. They were sitting in the corner of the ‘staff room’ which in reality was just the back room. It just had 2 bare beds for quick resting and back up medical supplies. There was a bare sink and a couple of cupboards which were most likely empty. The freezer however, had several pints of ice cream.

“Oh who tries to fight their healer? Must I remind you of your behaviour every time you're in this infirmary?”

Will opened a pack of chips that he had managed to snag from one of the other healers; he doubted they’d notice. Well, he hoped they wouldn't notice.

“I can’t be that bad.” Nico batted his hand in the air, his hand reaching over to Will’s pack of chips and stealing one. Will smacked his hand and gasped, showing his mock offence.

“Oi! Those are mine!”

“Says who?” Nico argued. “ I happen to know you stole them!”

“Yeah but finders keepers!”

“I will fight you for those chips,” Nico snarled. Will, smiling wickedly, held his front; not in the least intimidated by Nico's violent demeanor.

“Perfect, now we finally fight. After all, I did tell you that I’d fight you later when you were recovering.”

“I’ll turn you into ashes.”

“Nu uh, I don’t think so. Remember I have regeneration,” Will boasted. They were both now standing, their food abandoned on the table.

“If I remember correctly.” Nico moved forward for the attack, “You told me you wouldn’t fight me because you knew I would win.”

Will gave a smirk. “You were ill. I couldn't tell you the truth.”

Nico squinted his eyes and waited for Will’s punch. He didn’t expect for Will to be waiting for his; Oh right, Will always fights defensive

But then he realised that this could be used to his own advantage. He went in for an attack, his leg going round to kick the back of Will’s knees, making him buckle to the floor. Nico was aiming to disable him from moving, not hurt him.

I may be short, but that just means I can reach your knees.

Will let out a rueful laugh, the game was on. Just as when Nico went to grab Will's arm, Will used his other arm to grab Nico and used all his strength and Nico’s momentum to flip Nico onto his back so that when Nico looked up, He saw Will's smiling face.

Nico rolled away, quickly forcing his way up. They both stood facing each other, none of them throwing a punch or a kick. They were dancing around each other, around their feelings. Nico ran into Will and used every force in his favour to force Will to fall onto the bare bed behind him. They landed safely with an oomph and immediately Nico got to work in immobilising him.

Nico quickly straddled Will, trying to grab his arms but Will, while not the fastest, was relatively strong. He managed to grab Nico’s arm, stopping him from being trapped. He then used all the strength he could summon from his abdominal muscles and managed to flip Nico so that it was him holding both of Nico’s arms above his head, effectively pinning him to the bed.

Nico struggled but Will was too strong. He had tried to flip Will back onto his back but it was too hard so he settled for trying to wrestle his wrists out of the blond boy's grasp. They were panting and their faces were close enough that they could feel each other's warm breath on each other's face.

Nico felt his eyes being drawn to Will’s lips and then his ocean blue, like eyes. It was a magnet being drawn across Will's face and Nico had no choice but to follow it everywhere. From the perfect slant of his cupid’s bow at his lips and the fullness of his lips to the half lidded eyelids that covered his deep eyes. The eyes that we're currently analysing Nico’s face, in the same way he was doing to Will’s, right this moment.

Will felt Nico’s wrists stop resisting as much in his grasp as his eyes slowly drifted to his own. Their eyes locked. Ocean Blue met Onyx. The sea had met the depths of the earth and it was only the roaring sound of their own blood being pumped ferociously by their hearts that acted as the soundscape of the ocean as Will lowered his lips to meet Nico’s in the most tentative of kisses.

Their lips brushed gently, as a taster and then, Nico slipped one of his supposedly trapped wrists out of Will’s hands and slid it around Will’s neck, pulling him to deepen the kiss. Will’s face felt heated as he moved his hands from above Nico’s head to cup his face; he could feel the heat radiating from it.

They broke apart- only for a second- but alas, even that felt like too much. Their lips found each other again, even in the darkness of the room, due to sunset and yet they were only in the dark for a matter of seconds. Nico, despite having his eyes closed, could feel the soft glow of Will’s skin.

“Hey Will, Where did ya g-” The startled young healer was stunned before cringing immediately at their older brother.

“-Oh god, Will, My eyes! My eyes have been scarred, dear, good gracious Gods, Help me!”

Nico’s hands flew to Will’s chest, pushing him off while Will himself made an attempt to scramble off Nico. They keyword there being attempt, because the next thing he knew, Will had stumbled and managed to trip Nico into falling face first into Will’s chest, straddling him and thus making their situation so much worse.

“What do you want?” Will groaned at his younger sibling, as Nico climbed off him, slowly burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

“You have another patient to fix.” The kid was now holding his hands over his eyes- something that deeply irritated Nico.

“Oh calm down, it’s not like we were doing anythi-”

“-Nico!” Will cried. “ Go out and find someone to cover for me. Tell Kayla she’s in charge; I’m off for the night,” Will declared as he grabbed Nico’s hand, kicked open the back door and fled into the early night with Nico, hand in hand.

[midnighter13]

the world in mutable delight

Y'all I'm so full of feelings. So many of them. Anyway I've been shouting about Caleb using his Transmuter's Stone on Molly to anyone who will listen for actual years so now, please have more soft pre-widomauk feelings about it.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672169

The process of recovery, Caleb knows, can be a strange one. Of course, there is hardly anyone stranger than the singular Mollymauk Tealeaf, to begin with. Between the circumstances of his deaths, his lives, and all the magic that brought him back to them, it is hardly a surprise that he needs some time to gather up all the patchwork pieces of himself again. Caleb has no doubt that he will reclaim everything he wishes to, in time; after all, he has never known anyone better at creating beauty from shattered glass. The massive stained-glass tribute within his tower is as close as Caleb could come to capturing the artistry with which Molly created his style and his life and his whole self, and seeing him in vivid, vibrant life again has reminded Caleb that even his best effort could never possibly do him justice.

It is best that way, though. Mollymauk Tealeaf should never be captured in something so still as glass, so static as paint. A whirling dervish of color and laughter and terrible ideas and sheer wonder needs a living canvas to flourish, and thanks to a miracle, he has that chance again.

 One day soon perhaps, Caleb would like to ask Molly about the decor of the tower. He is still fond of his best effort, the beauty that Molly’s memory lends to his library, but it needn’t be the same forever. It would be equally wonderful to listen to Mollymauk create something new, to see if Caleb can create with magic what Molly’s endless font of color and bullshit can imagine.

… Of course, that would require Caleb to overcome the way his mind goes blank every time he thinks about approaching Molly. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say where Molly can hear him this time, but he doesn’t seem to have the language to express the maelstrom of emotions trapped inside his chest. There is so much happiness and relief and affection and amusement and delight and and and— 

And it is all stopped at the back of his throat by the sharp point of the memory that springs up every time, the fact that the manifestation of all of Caleb’s magic, all of his drive and talent and hope and hunger, failed when Molly needed him. Again. Nine months ago, on Glory Run Road, Caleb’s magic was not enough to keep him alive. And two days ago, in the crumbling city in the Astral Sea, Caleb’s magic was not enough to bring him back.

So. There are a few things he must grapple with himself, before he can indulge in everything he wants to say to Molly.

It has been fairly easy to hang back, so far. He has managed to distance himself enough from the celebrations to keep from spilling his heart across the ground at Mollymauk’s feet. Simply looking at him, vibrant and energetic again, is enough to sustain him—simply hearing his voice, the handful of words he speaks with endless inflections, is a feast when he has been starving. So Caleb stands a handful of feet away at all times, and watches the rest of his family hug and touch and reconnect until his eyes go dry.

The first night of their return to the Material Plane would have been no good, anyway. With how tired they all are, how nearly broken and still very bruised each and every body among them is, it is not the time to show Molly around the whole tower. There will be time for that later, always time for that later, to his greatest elation—later, he will take Molly by the hand and show him everything that he built, every piece of his heart that he conjures to house his friends, his family. He will show him that no matter the time that passed, he kept Molly safe in his mind and gave him a place here, always waiting for him to come home. 

But that will have to wait until Caleb’s hands no longer shake with the phantom weight of his Transmuter’s Stone; and besides, he would have to wait anyway until Molly and Yasha willingly part from each other, and those two certainly have shown no signs of budging from each other’s sides, not through the exhausted pile the (whole, finally whole) Mighty Nein slept in that first night, nor at meals with the welcoming Clay family the next day, nor the hours full of odd conversation and new acquainting and re-familiarizing that followed. There has been plenty to occupy Molly upon his return, more than enough to let Caleb sit outside of arm’s reach and drink in everyone else’s stories, and pretend that his heart has not leapt every time Molly’s bright, lively eyes have turned to him and lingered in return.

Now, basking in the afternoon sun on the second bright day since their family saved the world and was made whole, Caleb knows that he should be taking more action to recover his arcane stores. But each time he tells himself that he will get up and look for a suitable stone, his throat becomes tight again. He makes excuses to Essek, to Veth, when they ask: they are safe here in the Grove so he does not need the protection it grants him; they are among a family that seems very partial to glowing crystals as light sources, so he is in no rush to regain the darkvision he lost with the Eyes; why bother to make himself quicker to move, when they are all enjoying a well-earned rest? Neither of them question him further on it, though there is deep understanding in Essek’s eyes and a shrewd worry in Veth’s. They let him lie back and look up at the endlessly-shifting canopy of green, and try to reorganize his thoughts in peace.

Someone, however, does not abide by that peace. Only a half-hour into his meditation, and having made very little progress in unsnarling his tangled heart, Caleb hears the soft sound of bare feet on moss approach, and stop beside him. When he turns his head, there, of course, is Mollymauk.

“Magician,” Molly says firmly, and plunks himself down on the ground beside Caleb’s head. He settles in, wiggling his toes in the moss. One foot has nails freshly painted in bright teall, the other in charming pink. Both colors, of course, suit him perfectly. Then he says, “Mister Caleb,” with a widening grin, and Caleb’s breath catches once more in his throat.

“Hallo, Mister Mollymauk,” he says in return, the smallest greeting that settles sweetly on his tongue. He pushes himself upright, and turns to face Molly in kind. “Your words are returning to you, it seems.”

“Some,” Molly says, and the word that is not empty is accompanied by a decisive little nod. It takes effort, it seems, but Mollymauk has always been an obstinate individual. Regaining all his words may be like trying to pick up pieces of confetti one at a time, but if Mollymauk wants them back he will have the time to do so now. And hopefully, his friends can continue to help.

“That is very good to hear,” Caleb replies, and he cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face at Molly’s pleased expression.

“Magician,” Molly repeats, and holds out a closed fist between them. Caleb hesitates, unsure if this is a greeting or a request—then Molly shakes his hand a little, impatiently, and Caleb obligingly holds out his own open palm beneath it. Mollymauk’s tail swishes in broad strokes behind him, and he opens his hand to drop something into Caleb’s palm.

A blue-grey stone the size of a hen’s egg hits his palm with a soft sound. There is no ring around this one like his first, but when it catches the light it sparkles with countless tiny deposits of mica, glittering like stars. Caleb blinks at it, then up at Mollymauk. “Ah… thank you?”

“Magician,” Molly insists; then, after a pause, “lucky,” accompanied by that little flicker of his fingers that he used many times before, whenever he mentioned how little he understood about magic or asked Caleb if he could cast a spell. And perhaps it is not elegant, no kind of official communication that even a Comprehend Language could parse, but Caleb understands him perfectly, and his throat stings as though he might cry.

“Oh,” he says, and stares down at the stone in his hand. “Th-thank you, Molly. How did you know…?”

“Joy—” Molly clears his throat, a quick little cough and a wrinkle of his nose that spells frustration with his voice. “Jester,” he says carefully, clearly, “told me. What—hmm. Happened. Empty—”

He takes a deep breath, seems to gather his thoughts. He reaches out and closes Caleb’s fingers around the rock in his palm. “Empty,” he says again, softer now. Then he says, “Caleb,” and brings his hand up and presses his lips to Caleb’s fingers.

Caleb’s heart is nearly tripping with how quickly it hums. His ears are hot, and he knows that the afternoon sun cannot be to blame in the pleasant shade of the Grove. “Molly,” he says, helplessly. “Molly, I—I’m sor—”

Molly’s tail smacks gently into his knee. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Caleb, somewhere between playful and warning. Caleb swallows hard. He takes in the sight of Mollymauk’s face before him, and memorizes the new weight of the stone in his hand.

“Ja, okay,” he manages. “I can use this, Molly. Thank you.”

“Ja, ja,” Molly says, grinning wide and cheeky once again, and the laugh that bursts from Caleb feels like lightness, like relief, like forgiveness.

Molly is still smiling at him, his tail tapping softly against the moss. He releases Caleb’s hand from his grasp, the stone safely inside. Then he puts one hand up and crooks his finger at Caleb, in a universal gesture of come here.

Obligingly, Caleb leans forward, narrowing the space between them and trying very hard not to blush all the way to the roots of his hair. Molly puts his hand on the side of Caleb’s face—warm, his touch is so warm and firm and real again. It’s almost enough to distract him, enough that it takes him by surprise when Molly leans forward and kisses him firmly on the forehead. Then he lingers there, and Caleb lets his eyes close just for the moment as he memorizes the feeling of being here, with Mollymauk Tealeaf, safe and happy once more.

When Molly sits back, he folds his hands in his lap, contentment written so plainly across his face that he hardly needs the words to say it. Caleb thinks of five things he could say, a dozen, a hundred possibilities like fragments of fate. But Molly only has so many words to give, and it is better, for right now, that Caleb can speak his language in return.

He holds up his free hand and crooks his finger at Mollymauk in the same gesture of come here. Molly’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his tail patters rapidly against his shin—but he leans forward, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips, just enough to show the dimples in his cheeks and the light dancing in his eyes. Caleb puts his hand to Molly’s cheek, and gives in to the temptation to run his thumb gently along the vibrant peacock feather there. Molly’s smile grows wide, showing teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes, as Caleb leans forward and presses his lips gently to Molly’s forehead. He holds him there for a long moment, savoring the warmth of his skin and the once-again inescapable whiff of sandalwood and incense.

Words are few and far between, right now, but words are not the only thing they need. For now there is touch, and there is warmth, and there is magic, and there is Molly. And for anything else, there will be time for that later. 

[knight-queen]

Lunatic Parade Subaru Sakamaki– (Chapter 1)

Yui: (I must have to get back my heart no matter what…!)

Place: Bernstein Castle 一 Castle town Residential area

Subaru: Oi, why are ye’ spacing out?

Yui: Ah...sorry Subaru kun. I was having concerns a bit…

Subaru: Tch...but it’s pointless if we just stand still in a single place. We must go somewhere and start searching.

Yui: That’s right...but right now, we should at least visit the castle town.

But, how can we go there exactly? Do you know any way for that?

Subaru: Well...I know but...that place’s very far away for sure.

Yui: I see now. It seems to take quite a while then.

Subaru: ………

….Come ‘re for a sec.

Yui: Eh...kyaa!?

*Subaru drags Yui closer*

Subaru: ...here it goes.

Yui: Wa- wait, Subaru kun!? What’s wrong!?

(He is hugging me….!?)

Subaru: Nothing...we’re just gonna fly.

Yui: Eeh!?

Subaru: ...If we just keep walking all the way, then we ought to not get back yer’ heart.

Yui: Oh…*Blushing*

(I get it now...he has been worrying for me…)

But, I think I will be a little scared if we fly…

Subaru: If ya’ just just keep complaining then I feel like biting my own tongue.

Be silent and let’s fly 一 kh!

*Fly*

Place: Glimmer Street  Main street / グリンマーストリート 表通り

Yui: (Thanks to Subaru kun that it took only an instant to reach the castle town…)

This town is much livelier that I’ve expected.

Subaru: Aah...it’s so noisy for so many people outta here…

Yui: (Subaru is saying it, but I think the parade in the Demon World is fun…)

(But it would be more fun if we wouldn’t have faced any circumstances…)

Subaru: ………..

Yui: (No, I can’t get excited over it. I have to focus on getting back my heart.)

What shall we do next?

Subaru: That answer is very obvious. I’m gonna enter the caste and feed that Earl a hard blow.

Yui: Eeh!? It’s no good to be so harsh…!

Subaru: Who even cares! On the other side, he had snatched away your important thing!

It’s something that can’t be satisfied even if I knock him out.

Subaru: Anyways, let’s move onto the castle. We’ll continue conversing later on.

Place: Bernstein Castle, Front of Castle Gate / べルンシュタイン城 城門前

Yui: Wah...so big castle…

(So this is….Bernstein castle…?)

(The gate is so precisely closed so we can’t simply enter in…)

*Subaru tries to open*

Subaru: Tch...we can’t enter…

This castle is having….vampire repellent barrier…

Yui: Ba- barrier…!?

Subaru: Fuck! He’s laying’ on such a cheap trick!

Subaru: ...gh!

*Tries to open*

Yui: Listen, Subaru kun…!?

Subaru: If we can’t enter then...I am gonna break through it…! I’ll destroy such a shit thoroughly!

*Hits*

Yui: No, you can’t!

Subaru: A bastard who dared to steal people’s things will of course deserve it….kh!

*breaks*

Yui: (Oh no...the wall is…!)

Subaru: Heh...oh my, that guy is incredibly fragile. At this rate, if I punch him out then he may have a hole through his body. Ptft..heheh…

Yui: (Looks like he’s really aiming to kill him…! What should I say…!?)

???: 一 Please wait for a moment.

Yui: Eh…?

(Someone suddenly appeared...I freaked out…)

Subaru: Huh? Who are you bastard?

Buttler: ….My high apologies for delaying in introducing myself. I am the butler of this house.

Yui: (By this house...he means Earl Walter’s castle…?)

Subaru: What the butler is for. The reason we’re here is for Earl.

Butler: Yes, of course I know this.

一 My master is waiting for you inside. Please this way.

Subaru: Ha?

Yui: (Eh...he’s inviting us to enter that easily…?)

Subaru: Hold on...perhaps it’s a trap…

The guy that put a barrier in this castle, I don’t think he’ll let us meet him that smoothly.

Butler: No way it’s a trap.

Because he said that he’s not indenting to get his walls broken any further.

Yui: Oh…

(We can’t say anything back…)

Butler: ...Alright then, follow me.

Subaru: …….

Subaru: Tch...we’ve no other choice. Let’s go.

Oi, I don’t what’ll be the outcome, but don’t ye’ get separated from me.

Yui: Ye- yeah…

Place: Bernstein Castle, Throne Room / ベルンシュタイン城 玉座の間

Butler: Please have a rest here for a while.

Subaru: ….hmph.

Yui: (Since, he had come to this place by being on his guard, I think he may get disappointed…)

Isn’t that okay even if we aren't so vigilant…?

By the way, shall we have a seat?

Subaru: Tch…

Yui: (Wow...the exterior was splendid but, the inside of the castle is luxurious too…)

Subaru: Oi, don’t stare all around that much.

Yui: Ah, ...so sorry. He’s co-….

Subaru: Jeez….

Butler: I have put some tea.

Yui: Th- thank you so much! I’ll have som一

Subaru: DON’T DRINK!

*Smashed the tea cups*

Yui: Ah…

(Subaru kun is really being so cautious…)

???: ...Oh dear...you’re more than a guard dog I’d expected.

Subaru: 一 Who was it!?

Yui: (The voice is coming from somewhere….)

Earl Walter: My name is Walter. Nice to meet you, Sakamaki Subaru...and the lady from there.

Well...we may not meet face to face…

Yui: (Eh…?)

Subaru: I’m fine with yer tedious speech! Just show up!

Earl Walter: 一 Just cut it out.

Subaru: ...What?

Earl Walter: Just like this guard dog who seems to bite each time I reach out for him, I am also not a fool.

However, let’s pay tribute for your cautiousness.

Subaru: That was very obvious!!

Yui: (Subaru kun…)

Subaru: Just give this girl’s heart back!!

Earl Walter: Unfortunately I can’t.

Subaru: Haa? Why ye’ cann’t!?

Earl Walter: Because I still haven’t reach onto a conclusion.

Yui: You haven’t reached a conclusion….?

Earl Walter: Yeah, you get it right, lady. Weather you’re worthy human to possess such a one and unique treasure such as your heart 一

I haven’t figured that out yet. Unless you can convince me that you're worthy, I can’t give the heart back.

Subaru: HAAA!? What do ye’ mean!

More importantly...it’s unnecessary to make you convince, right!?

*Hits something + breaks*

Yui: Ah!

(The jar got breaked…!?)

Earl Walter: ….gh! That jar was…!

Subaru: Huh? This jar was what?

Earl Walter: Stop it at once! Each and every single thing placed there is very expensive一

Subaru: Heeh, I’ve known somethin’ good. I’m gonna smash all of ‘em from A to Z!

….Take this!

*Exploid sound as things break*

Earl Walter: Aaah!

Subaru: I’ll stop if you give her heart back.

*Breaks*

Yui: Subaru kun, you’re doing too much!

(Earl Walter isn’t saying anything…)

Subaru: ….What’s wrong?

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: ...I’ve done it for your sake, then why…

Tch…

*Breaks*

Say something!

Yui: (We won’t make any progress if we just stay here…)

Umm...subaru kun. Please calm down for a bit. Let’s come here again?

Subaru: Haa? It’s pointless.

After coming this far, shall we hold back!?

Yui: But, look! Earl Walter has gone silent…

I think we won’t be able to have a conversation with him any longer.

So please…? Let’s come back again? Plus we have to manage someplace to spend our days.

*Yui holds Subaru’s hand to get out from there*

Subaru: Oi, Yui…!

Place: Gondola boarding place / ゴンドラ乗り場

Yui: (Somehow, I come here by pulling Subaru kun, but…)

Subaru: ……..

Yui: (He’s in a bad mood…)

Anyways, it looks like we can get back to the town by riding the gondola. Shall we try it out?

Subaru: ……..

Gondolier: 2 people?

Yui: Yes.

*Get on*

Gondolier: Let’s start on then!

Place: ルビーン運河 / Rubean Canal

Yui: (He has been just facing away since then...I want to say something to him.)

Subaru kun, that’s 一

Subaru: ...What?

Yui: Err...you know

I was happy about the fact that you were willing to get back my heart.

Subaru: ...kh *Blushing*

Yui: But I wonder what it would be like if Earl would do the thing that you did…?

Subaru: ...Hah!?

The thing that I did you say….

……….

….gh

You mean... if he would destroy your heart…?

Y- yes...I thought there’s a possibility for him to do that.

Subaru: ………..

….I am sorry.

I was so burned up inside that...my head didn’t think about that…

Sorry…

Yui: (He is making such a sad face...what should I do?)

→Selection

声をかける/ Call him out  (+Correct)

何もしない / Don’t do anything

Yui: B- but...Subaru kun did that because he was thinking about me.

Subaru: Yeah...that’s...of course I was…

Yui: If so then...I am happy about your feelings!

Subaru: ……….

Yui: (Mmm...Isn’t there any good way to cheer him up…)

(...Found one.)

Subaru kun, excuse me...nnh!

*Yui kisses Subaru on his cheek*

Subaru: Wha-...!? What are ya’ doin!?

Yui: (Uuh...it’s very embarrassing to kiss his cheek from myself but…)

...I think it’s a gift...for you because...I know that you did that for the sake of me…

Subaru: ...Tch...damn, don’t do so embarrassing things…

More importantly...I did that just because I got irritated...not really for yer’ sake…

Yui: Fufu…

(It’s good that Subaru kun has calmed down a bit.)

Then...shall we go apologizing to him at first?

Subaru: ...Tch, that’s the only way…(Still blushing)

Place: Bernstein Castle, Front of Castle Gate / べルンシュタイン城 城門前

Yui: (I bet Earl Walter is super angry at us.)

(I hope he will forgive him…)

(But if he doesn't then…)

Subaru: ...Oi.

Yui: ….Hm? What is it, Subaru kun?

Subaru: Hold on a bit.

*Goes away*

Yui: (He just goes away...but why…?)

*After a moment*

Yui: (Oh... he’s back.)

Where did you go?

*Subaru gets closer*

Subaru: ...I’ll give ya’ this.

Yui: Eh…? Flower? But what is that for…!

Subaru: ...These were distributed over there, so thought to get it.

Like I said...don’t you ever put on such a concerning face.

Yui: Ah…*blushing*

(Could it be...he was worrying because I was having anxiety…?)

Thank you, Subaru kun.

Subaru: hm…

*Holds*

Yui: (Ah...he is holding my hand…)

(If he put sincerity in apologizing, then I am sure he will forgive us….!)

Place: タルト • グリンマーストリート店 / Tart • Glimmer Street Shop

Yui: (一I thought that but…)

Subaru: Damn, why did he!?

*Sound*

Yui: (As expected, now I am aware how Subaru kun is feeling…)

Monologue一

一一 After that, we have visited the castle however….

Not only Earl Walter but also his butler hadn’t shown their sign.

When it was pointless to be there, we entered a nearby cafe but Subaru kun is just getting irritated with these…

End of Monologue

Subaru: That man...what’s he up to exactly…

Yui: Err...if that’s the case then the only choice we got is to repair those broken things…

Subaru: Even that’s the only way but...even I can’t remember how many things I smashed out there.

Yui: Th- that’s right…

(He had broken everything in the living room from first to last…)

But, the ones that were particularly broken were...the jar, the sculpture..and the painting.

Subaru: You’ve...really remembered huh…

Yui: (It’s because I was looking at those excitedly at first…)

Nevertheless of repairing them, that artwork is the only one to exist in this world,

And also, many of those things were highly expensive...what should we do.

(More importantly, I have no knowledge about the artworks…)

Subaru: ……….

….I was thinking about my father’s collections.

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: Just like Walter, he also has a hobby about collecting so many unexpected art works.

Yui: Really?

Subaru: Yeah. And also there is a suspicious looking vampire who seemed to give those arts to him.

And I am sure that... the vampire's house is in this town….

Yui: Well, then if we meet with that person…!

Subaru: ...It will be worthwhile to talk with him.

Yui: Yup! Also also by some chance, may be he was the one to hand over that art to Earl Walter.

(That’s great, looks like we’ve found a way…!)

Err...well then, let’s visit him tomorrow?

Subaru: I agree...many things happened today so i’m tired…

Let’s choose a hotel and rest. I think we’ll have a busy day tomorrow as well.

Place: Mornstein Hotel, Entrance/ ホテル •モーントシュタインロビー

Yui: Subaru kun is late…

(He isn’t back since he went to the front desk…)

Subaru: ………

Yui: Oh, Subaru kun! Did you reserve a guest room…?

(His mood looks a bit changed. Could it be that he couldn’t manage rooms…?)

Subaru: One thing after another! Almost every room is filled because of the parade…

Yui: Eh…

Subaru: ….Only one room is available. *blushing*

Yui: Oh...then everything’s okay. I’d have worried if every single room would be filled...

We’re lucky that at least one room is free!

Subaru: What’re ye’ saying such reckless things for!? You should know we’re gonna have a single room?

Yui: Eh, m- mhm...so is there any problem about that….?

Subaru: ….tch…

As I said…! It’s very obvious to have problems since a man and woman are gonna share a single room!!

Yui: ….kh! ...That’s true…

B- but...it’s better than not finding even a single room…

(Plus, it will be pretty dangerous to sleep outdoors in the Demon World, no?)

Subaru: ….Jeez, don’t you have any crisis feeling or something…

Yui: Eh, did you say something?

Subaru: Shut up! I haven’t!

Tch...that’s why you stay here alone. I’ll find a suitable place around here and sleep.

Yui: N- no, you can’t….! If you don’t have a proper rest then you’re gonna feel dizzy tomorrow…

Anyway, we found a room after all,  let’s stay there?

Oh...and I will come up with something...as you’re saying you hate it if we share the same room…

Subaru: B- but, I didn’t really say that I hate someone…!

………..

Dang...I don’t know what to do…

Place: ホテル•モーントシュタイン  客室 / Hotel • Mortstein  Guest room

Yui: (We have entered the room but…)

Subaru kun...what are you doing…?

You’ll understand if you just look. I am gonna make a boundary in the middle of this bed by laying a partition.

Yui: (Where did he get this partition from…)

Subaru: Listen, the space of the other side of this line is your space.

So, don’t ye even dare to enter on the opposite side of the line!

Yui: Y- yes...I get it…

(Uuuh...when I think deeply about that I’m gonna share the same bed with him, it makes me nervous…)

(My heart starts pounding right now…)

*Sound*

Hm? What was that sound?

(Is that from the balcony?)

Place: Hotel • Mortstein  Balcony/ ホテル•モーントシュタイン  バルコニー

Yui: Waah…!

(In the place of the gondolas from the earlier, there’s having a musical performance of the drums and fife corps!)

(Let’s say it to Subaru kun!)

Subaru kun, if it’s okay then can we go there togeth一

*Sound*

(kh...what was that…? I am feeling strange….for this heart...)

*Screen shakes*

Yui: (Ah...my vision is…)

Subaru: Oi, Yui! Are you okay!?

*Subaru holds Yui*

*Fades to CG*

Yui: Oh...Subaru Kun…

Subaru: What’s wrong? I was freaked out when you’re about to fall…

Yui: Sorry...For a moment, I was just having a weird sensation for this heart…

Thank you for supporting me.

Subaru: ...gh…

….If that guy does something to you because I ran riot then,

What can I do…

Yui: My heart was feeling weird just for an instant, and it’s gone so...I'm sure I’ll be fine.

Subaru: ….gh…

You are supposed to be angry at me at this rate!? Then why aren’t you blaming me at all!?

Yui: That’s…

Earl Walter has listened to our conversation today, and he seems to be a person who has a good idea about something’s value…

He isn’t a person who will do whatever he wants to do with the treasure so recklessly, I guess?

Therefore, we can can be on ease一

*Subaru hugs*

(Waah...he just hugged me…!)

Subaru: ...Haah…

You’re really...a hopeful and kind person…

Yui: R-  really….?

Subaru: Yeah, that side of you is...not bad either...I think.

Yui: ….kh…

...Thank you…

(Uu...it’s embarrassing…)

Ah! Su- Subaru kun, look! The performance just got started.

Subaru: ...Tch, who even cares about such things. For now, just focus on me.

Plus...I’m here now, so don’t get interested in other stuff…

Yui: Fufu... sorry….

Subaru: Tch...it's actually an opportunity to see it someway.

Well...if you’re saying that far then...I'll watch it.

Yui: ...Mhm!

(Watching it while being hugged by him is a bit embarrassing but….)

(I am happy that we’re watching it together.)

Somehow, I am getting more excited for the musical performance of the drums and fife corps

(I know that we’re not in the place where the performance is happening but…)

Subaru: ……….

Yui: Ah...sorry for that. You don’t have any interest in it, right…

Subaru: No...it's okay.

Yui: Eh…?

Subaru: ….I’ll absolutely manage myself about it…

So, you can continue smiling like a fool.

Yui: F-fool you say...that’s awful.

Yes...but...thank you.

(How strange...I thought Subaru kun doesn’t have any body temperature or something...but I am feeling a bit warm for his body.)

(He is being so close with me…)

(Just by this, I am being so much reassured 一)

一The END of Chapter O 1

[ingek73]

Fairytales for fuckwits: Meghan, a children's book, and the school bully tactics of the British tabloids...

Piers Morgan's obsession with Meghan Markle continues, while Mike Graham appears worried there may be too many big words for him to understand.

Mic Wright

May 6

On May the 4th, there was a great disturbance in the force, as if thousands of tabloid reporters and talk radio pundits cried out at once: The Duchess of Sussex had announced she was writing a children’s book.

Since the earth-shattering news that Meghan has written a story about the relationship between father’s and their sons — apparently based on a poem she wrote for Prince Harry — the tabloid press and talk radio stations have gone into meltdown.

The Sun has managed to crank out seven hysterically-pitched stories on the announcement since it dropped — the book isn’t out until June 8th — with each more unhinged than the last:

MEG TO PAPER Meghan Markle writes children’s book inspired by Prince Harry and baby Archie about ‘bond between father and son’

MEG-A MOVE Meghan Markle’s first priority should be mending broken relationships with royals not writing kids’ book, expert claims

SOUNDS A BIT WOODEN ‘Schmaltzy’ Meghan Markle ‘on dodgy ground’ with kids’ book celebrating fathers ‘after own bust-up with dad’ says author

DOUBLE DUCH Meghan Markle accused of copying her kids’ book The Bench from another story – but author defends her

NOT WRITE Piers Morgan slams ‘hypocrite’ Meghan Markle for kids’ book on ‘father-son bond’ after ‘ruining Harry and Charles’ ties’

'RIDICULOUS' Meghan Markle using Duchess of Sussex as author name ‘laughable’ after she wanted to cut Royal ties, says royal expert

CUT PRICE Meghan Markle’s kids’ book has price slashed already at Amazon and Waterstones

You’ll notice that Piers Morgan — a man who has turned one drink with Meghan after which he claims she “ghosted him”, which took place in 2016, into a five year and counting obsession — gets his own story there. That’s The Sun filleting Morgan’s spittle-flecked Daily Mail column on the book for its own news piece.

Morgan, who trails his columns on Twitter like they are exciting new releases rather than the tabloid equivalent of a letter scrawled in faeces forced through your letterbox, dashed out his thoughts on The Bench with the indecent haste of a man running along while his trousers fall down.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @BreeNewsome

DEFUND & ABOLISH POLICE, REFUND OUR COMMUNITIES

@BreeNewsome

Piers Morgan’s obsession with Meghan Markle is genuinely disturbing. He’s really just using the guise of journalism to be a public stalker and harasser.

May 5th 2021

1,414 Retweets10,252 Likes”

-

Beneath a typically screaming Mail headline — How the hell can Meghan 'I hate royalty but call me Duchess' Markle preach about father-child relationships when she's disowned her own Dad, and wrecked her husband's relationship with his? — Morgan howled:

… she continues to cynically exploit her royal titles because she knows that's the only reason anyone is paying her vast sums of money to spew her uniquely unctuous brand of pious hectoring gibberish in Netflix documentaries, Spotify podcasts or children's books.

Of course, her equally cynical publishers don't give a damn about any of this shocking double standard.

Forget the fact that Meghan had a good degree of personal fame before she ever met Prince Harry, Piers Morgan accusing anyone else of being a cynical fame chaser is beyond parody. From his earliest days as a gossip hack, Morgan has muscled into pictures with the rich and famous, desperate to be someone.

When Meghan was willing to indulge him, he showered her with praise, but once she stopped taking his calls, he turned into the Tinder match from hell. That he has been married to his second wife, fellow controversialist columnist Celia Walden since 2010 seemingly did nothing to dampen his obsession.

Having repeatedly interviewed Meghan’s estranged father Thomas Markle — another man aggrieved because a woman would rather not spend time with him — Morgan sneers:

If she really cared about father-child relationships, she'd take a chauffeur-driven limousine on the hour-long trip to see her own father who's never even met either Harry or Archie.

It’s projection again: Piers Morgan’s ego is so egg-shell thin that after Meghan decided that one drink was more than enough, he’s spent 5 years seeking revenge and convinced that he’s been wronged, just like her ‘poor old dad’. That’s the ‘poor old dad’ that insists on talking about his daughter to journalists at every possible occasion.

At the end of an article that implies Harry and Meghan contributed to the death of Prince Philip — he died of natural causes — and rants on about “the woke”, Morgan ends with this:

But then as we've seen from her gruesomely self-interested behaviour during a pandemic that's caused so much devastation and pain to billions around the world, Meghan Markle doesn't really care about anyone but herself.

Remember, the Duchess of Sussex’s only ‘crime’ here is to write a children’s book which people will be free to buy or ignore with equal ease. But, as ever, Piers Morgan treats the news with all the proportionality of a US drone strike.

The real story here is about how Morgan — the bittiest of bit-part players in the narrative of Meghan and Harry’s lives — is so desperate to upgrade his place in the cast list that he will rant and rave to stay relevant. His departure from Good Morning Britain came after his last stream of invective about Meghan and he knows this schtick gets him the attention and money he craves.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @MariaLRoach

Maria Roach

@MariaLRoach

Meghan Markle inside the tiny space called Piers Morgan’s head. #duchessofsussex Tap Dance GIF by Miss America

May 5th 2021

122 Retweets1,619 Likes”

-

Aside from Morgan’s column, MailOnline has published 9 other news stories on or related to the book announcement. The most telling of them is one that links the Duchess of Sussex’s book to another one… by the Duchess of Cambridge.

Headlined Bookshelf battle royale! Kate Middleton shares a glimpse inside her Hold Still photobook just a day after Meghan Markle unveiled her own £12.99 children's story, the story unsurprisingly treats Kate with kid gloves while continuing to imply that Meghan is the kind of person who would make gloves out of kids if it suited her devilish schemes.

There’s no shade thrown at the Duchess of Cambridge for revealing further details of her book just hours after Meghan’s announcement. Instead, the story — lavishly illustrated with images from the book — gushes:

The Duchess of Cambridge has shared a glimpse of her photography book Hold Still ahead of its release on Friday…

… Kate, 39, a keen photographer, launched a campaign during the first lockdown last year to ask the public to submit images which captured the period.

It even includes a mention of an image of a BLM protestor saying:

Over the course of the project, the Duchess shared a number of her favourite images on the Kensington Royal Instagram page, including a Black Lives Matter protester holding a sign reading: 'Be on the right side of history.'

If Meghan had done the same she would have been decried for “supporting extremists”. Remember the contrasting way their mutual taste for avocado was covered?

15 Headlines Show How Differently The British Press Treat Meghan Markle Vs Kate Middleton | Bored Panda

Over at The Daily Telegraph, Spiked alumna Ella Whelan offered her thoughts on a book that isn’t released until next month under the headline Meghan Markle’s fun-free children’s book may put an entire generation off reading, which makes it sound like a grimoire full of dark magic rather than a gentle children’s book about kids and their dads.

Just as with the Mail’s story on Kate’s book, it’s worth imagining what Whelan would say if the Duchess of Cambridge had written The Bench. Look at the following section…

It reveals something of the political superficiality of Harry and Meghan’s activism that an “inclusive” book would use the military father as its promotional message. Perhaps it’s a cultural thing, but if my kids have to read about soldiers, I’d prefer Hans Christian Andersen’s tin version rather than the woke posturing of a former royal.

… and notice that because Meghan is the author including a father who is in the military is “political superficiality”. If Kate had written a story that featured an analogue for Prince William — who also spent time in uniform, though in less dangerous circumstances than his ‘spare’ brother — Whelan would likely deem it a ‘touching tribute to their love’.

Similarly, Sarah Ferguson — the ex-wife of Prince Andrew, top Yelp! reviewer for Jeffrey Epstein’s houses and noted avoider of FBI questioning — uses the title Duchess of York on her many execrable children’s books.

Now that Meghan is the tabloid’s new monster in the monarchy, Fergie’s antics are pointed to as a positive with her books flattered even as Meghan’s as-yet-unpublished book is panned.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @talkRADIO

talkRADIO

@talkRADIO

Meghan Markle is releasing a new children's book about father-son relationships.

Mike Graham: "It's so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she's still in high school... it's not exactly Tennyson, is it?

@mrmarkdolan | @Iromg Image

May 5th 2021

36 Retweets221 Likes”

-

Over on talkRADIO, Mike Graham — a melting mass of expired meat — ranted about a children’s book, worried perhaps that it will contain too many long words. Speaking to his colleague, Mark Dolan — Dennis Pennis without the charm — Graham crowed:

It’s so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she’s still in high school… I don’t have anything against her for any particular reason, other than she’s a bit too American, you know. She thinks everything is just great and cheesy. Rhyming the words ‘joy’ and ‘boy’. It’s not exactly Tennyson, is it?

Ah yes, that famous children’s author, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, known for such devastating rhymes as this one from The Lady of Shallot: “She left the web/ She left the loom/ She made three paces through the room.”

I’m not saying The Lady of Shalott is rubbish — though I do still hold a grudge against Tennyson after some very tedious teaching in high school — but that focusing on one rhyme in a poem is an easy trick if you want to say its shit. That Graham cannot see the irony in decrying writing a children’s book as “juvenile” is just one of the reasons he’s employed by a station with less than 1% reach.

Image description: “Twitter avatar for @NadimJBaba

Nadim Baba

@NadimJBaba

Piers Morgan ranting about the one who got away in 5, 4, 3.......

Media Guardian @mediaguardian

Meghan wins copyright claim against Mail on Sunday over letter https://t.co/cJZTgDMvgz

May 5th 2021

1 Like”

-

There’ll be a new round of these columns, stories, and talk radio segments when the book is released, particularly as The Mail on Sunday just lost the second part of Meghan’s copyright claim against it.

There’s nothing that either Meghan or Harry could do that wouldn’t drive these rats in a sack rabid. If they did nothing, they’d be called lazy. When they make things, take jobs, or really say anything the very media that benefits hugely from stories about them scream that it’s a cry for attention. And yet Piers Morgan regularly pissing himself in public is “commentary”.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 1 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream? 

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox) 

Warnings: mentions of death, the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one. 

Chapter One

~|Emily Fox| ~

As a seventeen-year-old, you should not be left to your devices. Unless you have no other choice. When you have a dream your parents have called unrealistic without ever listening to what you were actually capable of, you have no other choice but to move out and fend for yourself. Thankfully, I can stay with Uncle Mitch for a while until I’m off to college.  Since leaving my parents’ house at fourteen, my life has consisted of high school, working at the music store, write songs – if I have the time –, help Uncle Mitch around the house, sleep, repeat. It’s been a chore. But I just about manage. 

“Please, don’t touch the guitars without a supervisor, ma’am!” I say loudly from across the shop as I catch her hands rising up to pick up one of the acoustic guitars hanging on the wall for display. I rush over to her, dodging clients testing out guitars and pianos I’ve helped before. While the forty-something woman stares at me with an intense glare, I pick up the Gibson guitar for her and hand it over, offering her my fakest smile. “This one’s a nice one!” I tell her as she handles the guitar very clumsily, nearly dropping it. “What do you know about guitars?” she snarls at me. “Well, for starters, I work here, so I’m supposed to have some knowledge about guitars. Secondly, this is a bass guitar. Never just call a bass a guitar.” The woman rolls her eyes and when she casts her gaze on the strings, I roll mine. I’ve had my share of forty-something old women coming in here to buy something for their spoiled little sons, pretending they know more about guitars of any kind, pianos and drums while I have been brought up listening to Uncle Robert talking non-stop about all of his instruments. He taught me how to play each and every one of the instruments and brought me into the world of rock. If he were still here, I wouldn’t be working in a music store, trying to pay for my own apartment or my college tuition. He believed in me from the second he heard me sing and play piano. He still believes in me, I can feel it. Staying with Uncle Mitch – Uncle Robert’s husband, now widower, has been a lot more healing than it would’ve been if I still lived at my parents’. “I know that,” she grumbles, then looks back up at me. “If you know so much about everything, you little know-it-all, why don’t you tell me something more about this one?” I refrain myself from rolling my eyes again, and instead ball up my fists to put all of my anger there. “This is the Les Paul Junior Tribute DC bass. It’s actually a tribute to the historic Gibson EB-0 bass from the late 50's, but with modern features. The short scale length is actually chosen by many for its strong fundamental tone and sits perfectly in a track when recording. The mahogany double cutaway body and maple neck with rosewood fingerboard balances perfectly when playing either sitting or strapped on. It's equipped with a single expanded range LP BassBucker pickup with single volume and tone controls for simplicity. The volume pot has a push-pull feature to coil tap the pickup scooping the mids for further tone shaping possibilities.” I’ve explained this many a times, so it almost sounds as if I’ve learned it by heart. “Oh! And it comes in four different finishes; Worn Ebony, Worn Cherry, Blue Stain and Worn Brown.” The woman looks at me, clearly impressed at my knowledge of the bass in her hands. I’m pretty sure I could’ve told her anything and she would’ve believed me. “I want to speak to the manager,” she then says and pushes the bass guitar back in my hands as if handling a cardboard box. If my reflexes weren’t what they are now, we would’ve had a broken bass and I would be the one that had to pay for it. “What for?” I ask, my anger slipping through into a vicious snarl. “Just because you learn everything by heart, doesn’t mean you’re a good salesperson.” I open my mouth to say something, but I know I can’t win against a Karen. So, instead, I plaster on my best fake smile and say “Of course, give me a second.” I turn on my heel and make my way back to the cash register to get Ash, my manager who’s been nothing but an absolute gem to me. She wasn’t looking for any employees, but still hired me when she saw how desperate I was and how good I was with the instruments. She even lets me write songs after hours. “Karen alert?” Ash asks when she sees my annoyed face, at the brim of exploding. “Yep, at the bass guitars,” I tell her and take her spot to handle a paying costumer. Ash hops over the counter and makes her way to the Karen at the bass guitars. Only for her to leave the store in an angered rush without any bass guitar for her precious son. “That’s 44 dollars and 97 cents, please,” I tell the guy who’d come in for guitar strings, picks and some polish. He looks about my age. Dark hair gelled back, green almond-shaped eyes and rosy cheeks. He hands me the cash with a cute, nervous smile. “Thank you! And here’s the three cents change,” I hold out my hand for him to take the three cents, but he shakes his head. “Keep it,” he winks at me before grabbing his purchases and leaving the store. Leaving me all flustered and blushing. I hate when cute boys come to the shop and have the audacity to do this stuff to me. UGH. “Got rid of our Karen,” Ash tells me, “You can get back out there. I think the little girl over there at the piano could use some of your expertise.” She points to a fourteen-year-old gliding her fingers along the big wing of the white piano in the middle of our store. “Hi,” I say as I approach her, making her jump slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Emily. Can I help you?” She scans my face for a moment, as if assessing whether or not I’m trustworthy. I guess she decides she does when she opens her mouth and four simple words flow out of it. “Do you play piano?” I’m a bit taken aback by the question. None of the costumers have ever asked me that question. “Yes, I do, actually,” I reply honestly. “I want to learn how to play the piano, but my mother doesn’t allow me. Says it’s too expensive. The piano, that is. And lessons are expensive too, she says.” She stops talking for a moment as if thinking about what to say next. “Will you teach me?” “Oh,” I manage to bring out, “I—we don’t really offer any piano lessons in the store. We just sell them.” Her eyes water and she visibly swallows a lump in her throat. “Okay…” she whimpers, making my heart break just that bit more. “Will you play me a song though? I love hearing people play.” I take a deep breath as I think about how to turn this girl down. But then I remember my parents turning me and my dreams down. “Sure, I can play you a song. Any requests?” I ask as I sit down on the stool in front of us, patting beside me to invite her too. “Surprise me,” she says, shaking her head with a big smile on her face. I carefully touch the keys as I think of a song to sing. Once I’ve figured that out, I begin to play the right melody and then chime in with the lyrics I’d written with Uncle Robert when he was still alive. The song I cherish the most and wouldn’t share with anyone. But this girl reminds me too much of myself, and I think she might take something from the message. “Here's the one thing I want you to know You got someplace to go Life's a test, yes But you go toe to toe You don't give up, no, you grow.” The girl looks up at me with big Bambi eyes, urging me to continue. “And you use your pain Cause it makes you you Though I wish I could hold you through it I know it's not the same You got living to do And I just want you to do it So get up, get out, relight that spark You know the rest by heart” As I begin the chorus, I hear drums backing me up from somewhere inside the store, and when I look around, I find Ash behind a drum set with a smile on her face as she helps me out a little. “Wake up, wake up, if it's all you do Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain Raising your voice to the rain Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost Relight that spark Time to come out of the dark Wake up, wake up” By now, Ash and I have gained an audience. Most of the costumers in line don’t even mind having to wait to pay until we’re done with this outburst of ours. “Better wake those demons, just look them in the eye No reason not to try Life can be a mess, I won't let it cloud my mind I'll let my fingers fly” The girl next to me still has the same expression on her face. Eyes pooled with admiration and inspiration. Exactly the reason why I make music and why it’s been a dream of mine to make a career out of it. “And I use the pain 'cause it's part of me And I'm ready to power through it Gonna find the strength, find the melody 'Cause you showed me how to do it Get up, get out, relight that spark You know the rest by heart” I go for the chorus again, and then pop in with the bridge. The one I added to uncle’s song. The costumers in the store stare at Ash and me with smiles on their faces whilst swaying along to the song. “So wake that spirit, spirit I wanna hear it, hear it No need to fear it, you're not alone You're gonna find your way home” I close my eyes as I hit that high note, then stop playing for a second whilst starting the chorus for the last time. Even Ash backs me up with some backing vocals after having heard the chorus a couple of times already. “Wake up, wake up, if it's all you do” The both of us pick up the melody again, putting more power behind the rest of the song. “Look out, look inside of you It's not what you lost, it's what you'll gain Raising your voice to the rain Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you When you're feeling lost Relight that spark Time to come out of the dark Wake up, wake up” I hit the last couple of notes on the piano before a roar of applause and cheers fills up the entire store. The fourteen-year-old beside me is clapping the loudest of them all. Her eyes still wide and admiring and full of life. “What’s your name?” I ask the girl, causing her to stop clapping. “Kayla,” she replies. “Listen to me, Kayla. Even if your parents don’t agree with your big dreams, please, never give up on your dream! If this is really what you want to do, go for it. You’ll find a way, I promise you.” A tear rolls down her pink cheek as her bottom lip trembles slightly. “Don’t give up, okay?” She nods her head vigorously. “Thank you, Emily!” she wraps her arms around me into a tight hug before hopping off the stool and rushing out the store. As I watch her run out, my eyes land on a guy. Somewhat my age, I think. I can’t really function for a second as his hazel eyes stare at me and with his mouth curled up on one side. When I finally manage to move again, my eyes scan him entirely. His brown hair sticks out from underneath an orange beanie, his nose fine and cheekbones defined. He’s wearing a flannel shirt over a grey muscle tank and ripped black jeans. I give him an awkward smile before heading back to the cash register. “Can you do register for a moment? I need to check something in stock,” Ash asks me, and I simply nod before helping the next costumer. After the fifth costumer, the boy who’d been staring at me before shows up in front of me. “How can I help?” I ask with my best customer service-smile. “By giving your number,” he replies coyly. I was going to give him the cute boy card until those words came out of his mouth. “Sorry, my number ain’t for sale,” I reply and look behind him, “Next!” “Oh, no, sorry! Uhm, I don’t mean it like that, I—” Before he can mutter another word, I interrupt him. “Are you going to purchase something, bro?” He opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking like a goldfish. “Uhm… No… I just—” I interrupt him again. “Next customer, please,” I stare at him intensely, hoping that’d chase him away. He knocks on the counter before moving away, clearly defeated by the rejection. I can’t believe douchebags like him still exists in this generation. People need to learn manners. “Hi, how can I help you?” I ask the next customer, bringing back my best smile. Just got to move on, just as I moved on from dealing with a Karen again today. Best way to do that, is focus on all the other customers. For the rest of my shift, I have not been able to shake the cute-but-rude guy from before. There’s something about him that haunts me still and I can’t seem to figure out what it is. Not even when I’m focusing on cleaning up the store. As I’m dusting the piano, I hear the bell above the door ring. “Sorry, we’re closed!” I yell without looking up from the piano. “Are you going to play again?” The voice sends shivers down my spine as it takes me right back to that one douchey line it uttered just a mere hour before. “Again, we are closed, sorry.” This time it comes out more like a snarl and with a bit of poison. The boy in front of me chuckles and holds his hands up in defeat. “Listen, I’m sorry about before, but—” he steps closer to me, but I hold up my finger to make him stop, and it seems to help as he simply freezes in place. “But the store is closed. Goodbye now.” I go back to dusting off the piano and wait for the bell to ring again, but it doesn’t. Instead, the sound of guitar strums reaches my ears. “You can’t touch any of the guitars without supervision,” I tell him sternly, but when I meet his eyes and they’re looking at me intently as if urging me to do something. “You’re supervising me, aren’t you?” he asks cockily, still stroking the strings, creating a beautiful melody that fills up my head. “What do you want?” I ask bitterly, looking at him again, and hoping it would make him leave faster. “For you to sing.” “Sing what?” He shrugs, leaving me to wonder what he means by that. “I have a lot of work to do, dude. Please, leave,” I sound pathetic, nearly begging him to leave. I’m only a step away from begging on my knees. The sound of the guitar abruptly stops when I go back to cleaning the piano. “Listen, I just wanted to tell you that what you did earlier today was amazing. You know, not a lot of people have the power you have. Did you see what you did to all those people in here? Imagine doing that for thousands of people! Have you ever thought of that?” I turn to look at him, suddenly having the urge to tell him everything. Then I remember what a douchebag he really is. “I don’t have time for this. Please. Leave!” I shout at him before heading towards the cash register to start counting the money. It’s silent for a while until the bell over the door breaks it. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. This boy did something to me without me even realizing it. Nope. Can’t trust boys. They don’t do anything but break hearts and be douchebags. But this one somehow seemed different. No other boy has ever left such an impression as he did. And I didn’t even have a proper conversation with him. I just hope I don’t have to see him. Like ever again.  

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 28

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 28 - Immortal

In some remote mountainous areas in the south, Miao women used clay pots and menstrual blood to raise hundreds of insects. They sealed them, placed them in a damp place and cast curses on them. Once the day was done, the poisonous insects will have killed each other and the last one was embodied with Gu poison*. The curse made with Gu poison could make someone's love interest fall helplessly in love with them for the rest of his life, and it could also plague one's enemy with nightmares, madness, and even death. The women who concocted Gu poison were typically loners, often muttering to no one, avoided by the general public.

*(T/N: 蛊 - Gu poison was believed to be the combination of all the venoms from the insects that died and would be used for black magic in southern regions of China)

In Nanyang Black Magic, they would use the body of a baby that died recently, boiled out the toyol*, poured it on a puppet doused in human blood and placed it in the home. The imprisoned baby ghost would protect the house but the curse-caster will be punished. They would also carve birthdates into wood, causing the other to die.

*(T/N: 尸油 - literally 'corpse oil.' I'll spare you the graphic details but basically taking a dead body's chin and boiling it until oil drains out of it)

This black magic flourished in the Ming Dynasty. The Eastern Depot eunuchs* were in turmoil. Everyone was reporting each other, no one would speak to each other, eyes darting between each other daily. These curses were developed as a branch of Daoism to oppose political rivals. A-Yan said that the Daoist practices used to drive out ghosts and save people were declining, but this black magic has stuck around. It was one of the biggest spots in Daoist history.

*(T/N: 东厂 - a secret police & spy agency run by eunuchs meant to suppress political opposition towards the emperor)

Saturday morning was a beautiful day. The sun was shining but not to the point of being unbearably hot. The distant mountains stood silently under the blue sky. A black Audi passed quickly through the country’s tree-lined roads, raising a cloud of grit and dust. A white goose with its head held high on the roadside was startled by the car, flapping its wings and stretching its neck to hide behind a fence.

The car stopped at a small farmhouse in the northwest corner of the village.

In the courtyard, a tall Shuzi tree stretched out dense branches, looking extraordinarily vibrant. In contrast, the entire courtyard was strangely decrepit. A well was covered by a millstone and the stone-paced path was full of weeds. The doors of the three mud-brick houses were closed, with straw curtains covering the doors and windows covered with dust.

Everything was very different from a month ago. Lin Yan remembered that the last time he came here, there were hens and rabbits. The old lady in blue embroidered clothing was kneeling on the futon with her eyes closed. The small courtyard was filled with the mysterious atmosphere of the countryside. The current yard would give people the impression that the homeowner hadn't been home for years when, in fact, a fresh grave in the back of the mountain had only been built a month ago. Rural people were convinced that the houses inhabited by the living were blessed by the gods and sheltered from the elements for decades. Once the owner of the house dies, the gods will follow, so the empty house often collapsed and was destroyed in less than six months.

"When Second Immortal Gu was in the village, she would help children that fell sick with fever, and the adults that were dealing with evil spirits. Young men would ask her when they'd get married and, for the right price, she'd tell them." The village chief said with a cigarette in his mouth.

The village leader knew Yin Zhou’s mother well. He heard that Yin Zhou wanted to bring someone to pay tribute to Second Immortal Gu and waited at the entrance of the village to welcome them. It took ten minutes to drive from the village leader's house to Second Immortal Gu’s house. The village head smoked four cigarettes in a row. Yin Zhou squeezed his eyes shut while Lin Yan and the little Daoist priest twisted their heads out of the window every 30 seconds to gasp for a breath of fresh air. The village chief was the only one of them chatting in the smoky car. Lin Yan saw how the complaints of three people and a ghost just flew over his head.

If a ghost could complain.

Lin Yan found a roll of incense from the little Daoist's bag and lit it. He put the incense burner at the door of the mud-brick house and offered his respects.

"Last time, we left just before Second Immortal Gu had her accident. I should have come to offer some incense sooner, it's just things with school got busy and I haven't been able to make it until now." Lin Yan brushed the straw curtain and the accumulated dust fell on his face. "Cough, cough. Does - Does anyone take care of this place?"

"Of course not. You big city kids wouldn't know. Doing this line of work is only good for putting food on the table. Immortal Gu came out here in her twenties. In less than ten years, her husband and two sons had died and she was the only one left. She couldn't even save herself." The village leader stuffed his yellow striped shirt into his pants. "Don't feel bad. No immortal in this village could escape that fate."

"Come on, let's go, you guys are here to see her grave. We don't put up any gravestones here. We just build a stone platform, but the villagers will remember who it's for. I'll take you up there."

The sun was growing hotter. Several of them used broken branches to smack the grass in case of snakes while they hiked up the rugged mountain trail. A rural cemetery wasn't as neat as an urban cemetery. Each family claimed a spot, with every newly deceased buried next to the rest of their family. The grave was a prominent mound of dirt with a large stone on top. Some of the graves were too old to even make out the mound, the ground studded with small light blue flowers. A date palm tree grew wildly, and they needed to watch their step when walking so they wouldn't disturb the resting dead.

Second Immortal Gu's grave was off on its own. The mound was freshly dug. Other than a crooked wreath lying on it, it was indistinguishable from the older graves that had been abandoned for years.

The scene made Lin Yan feel incredibly guilty. He burned a large stack of paper dollars in front of the grave, playing with his branch while saying silently in his mind: Auntie, if you're still here, please come back and tell us who harmed you. We'll avenge your death.

The village chief took the cigarettes Lin Yan had bought him and squatted off in the distance to smoke. Lin Yan winked at the little Daoist priest and said softly, "Let's start?"

A-Yan nodded and took out a crumpled photo from his pocket that he had found in a frame in Immortal Gu's house. The immortal in the photo was still very young, wearing a floral cotton jacket and staring vacantly ahead.

"Now isn't a good time. The s-sun is too high. The mountains are filled with Yang energy, and the ghosts may not be able to be reached." A-Yan said. He jumped up and grabbed a twig from the date tree above his head. He hung a spirit summoning flag on it and patted the dust off his shoulders. "Here's a picture, here are the bones. Um, Lin Yan, I'm going to borrow your birthdate for this."

Before Lin Yan had time to ask, the little Daoist priest handed him a dagger. Unlike his usual mahogany sword, this one was actually made of metal. The handle seemed to be a few years old, and the tip of the blade gleaming a bright white in the sunlight.

"H-Hold this for a minute. You might feel a little uncomfortable, but don't let it go." A-Yan instructed: "I-I'll read one sentence and you read the next."

Yin Zhou chuckled but he felt that it probably wasn't the time to laugh so he quickly turned his laughter into a string of coughs.

Surprisingly, A-Yan never stuttered whenever he talked about Taoism and charms, Lin Yan muttered.

Time passed by and it was almost noon. The date trees in the mountains couldn't block the hot sun. After standing there for a long time, most of them were covered in a layer of sweat. The village leader couldn't bear the heat and left to join some nearby people to drink some tea. Lin Yan stood in front of the grave with the dagger in his hand. He rubbed the sweat on his cheeks off with his shoulder, hoping that this time it would be over quickly.

The little Daoist started reciting. His voice didn't sound like proper speech, but the slow rate of speech wasn't too difficult to follow. Lin Yan held the hilt of the dagger and along with the chant. Not even halfway through the incantation, Lin Yan already began to feel that something was wrong. The temperature around him began to drop, and the hot sweat condensed on his back. He kept shivering like he was suffering from heatstroke. A chill came from the handle of the dagger. First, the temperature seeped into his palm, and then his whole arm, up to his shoulders, through the bones in his spine to the back of his head in a numb wave. It was as if he wasn't holding a dagger but a frozen fish that had been left in the bottom tray of the freezer for a year.

The spirit summoning flag above his head began to move.

"It's cold." Lin Yan took a breath and scanned the silent mountains around him. "Have you reached the soul?"

"I t-think I found her." The little Daoist hesitated. "Huh. . . that's weird. . ."

After reciting two more incantations, the bone-chilling cold air had spread to his calves. Lin Yan's teeth chattered and he shivered out: "A-. . . A-Yan, are you sure this is okay. . . it's too. . . cold. . ."

The chanting continued, the little Daoist priest shot him a sideways glance, his eyes cold. Lin Yan can only brace himself to keep follow the mantra incantations, a heavy cold sweat forming on his forehead.

"Hold on for a little longer. The soul is bound to something, I want to break it free." A-Yan gritted his teeth, and a piece of talisman paper was slapped against the blade. All of a sudden, the cold washed over him like a tsunami. Lin Yan's whole body felt like it was being stabbed by needles, veins popping on his forehead from the pain.

"A-Yan, what are you doing?!" Yin Zhou knew something wasn't right when he saw Lin Yan's lips turn blue. "If you can't do it now, someone's going to get hurt. Lin Yan, use the ghost that's following you!"

"Almost there. Don't let go!" The little Daoist was flushed a sickly pale colour and he rapidly chanted the mantra. The spirit summoning flag above his head was being whipped by the wind. There was a ripping sound and the whole piece of cloth was torn in half and fluttered down onto the old grave in the distance.

"I-It's okay. . . A-Yan, go faster. . ." Lin Yan was so cold that he could barely get his tongue to work. He tried to move the hand with the dagger to it but he found that his skin was stuck to the metal and he couldn't budge it. He was shivering from his arms all the way down to his legs. Lin Yan staggered back and stepped on the bag they'd brought, almost falling backwards.

A force of strength supported his back. Xiao Yu's voice sounded right when he needed him, but his low voice didn't let him retort: "Let go."

Xiao Yu's hand covered the back of Lin Yan's hand. Compared to the temperature of the dagger, his palm was actually warm. It was just right to block the cold air that kept pouring into Lin Yan's arm. A-Yan's expression changed in an instant and he shouted loudly: "Back off, beast!"

"I'll fucking finish this. . ." Lin Yan abruptly closed his eyes and pressed his palm to the blade. All at once, the bone-chilling cold air felt like ten thousand needles running through his palm up to his arm. At the same time, there was a cold that grew behind him. He quickly opened his eyes but Second Immortal Gu hadn't appeared. On the contrary, Xiao Yu snapped Lin Yan's wrist with completely overwhelming strength, forcing the sharp weapon out of his hand.

The moment the dagger was taken out of Lin Yan's hand, he felt like he was immediately torn out of an ice block and thrown into a fire. The ritual was broken, the hot sunlight licked his back, making his whole body numbly feel like it was going to dissolve. However, he couldn't care less about his body's reaction. What happened next made Lin Yan and Yin Zhou - who was freaking out off to the side - shocked. They saw Xiao Yu holding the dagger inching towards A-Yan, frigid eyes filled with killing intent. When the palm of his hand touched the hilt of the knife, it sounded like searing flesh. But he didn't care. He grabbed A-Yan's collar with one hand, and violently plunged the dagger toward his left eye with the other!

Lin Yan's mind kicked into action. He subconsciously rushed over to hold Xiao Yu's waist, using all his strength to drag him back. However, something was wrong with the little Daoist priest, too. His usual cowardice was gone and his eyes burned with rage. He rolled away and broke free, rapidly taking out a handful of cinnabar and tossing it towards Xiao Yu. His voice changed because of the trembling: "An evil beast is an evil beast. You can't stay!"

"What the fuck is going on!" Yin Zhou couldn't see Xiao Yu. He could only see the little Daoist tumbling on the ground alone trying to avoid a shimmering dagger. Lin Yan's nerves were fried. While dragging Xiao Yu back, he roared towards Yin Zhou: "How the hell should I know? You grab A-Yan!"

He had never seen Xiao Yu so angry. The midday sun was burning and blinding. The ghost's whole body was emitting a faint greenish-black aura. The knuckles of both hands snapped open, sharp claw-like nails grabbing the back of the Daoist priest's head. Lin Yan thought he was seeing things and closed his eyes, but the scene stayed the same. The place where the ghost stood glowed a greenish-black and the place where the human stood was a dancing orange fire, intertwining with each other, but the orangish-yellow flames were gradually dying out. . .

Later, he would learn that people have yang energy and ghosts have yin energy. When the energy was extremely concentrated, he could directly perceive the yin and yang without his eyes confusing it in his mind. This was the foundation of excellent Taoism. He had inadvertently opened a long-closed door to the mystical arts.

However, the current situation was extremely dangerous. Xiao Yu held A-Yan’s neck with one hand and the dagger cut inch by inch into the little Daoist priest's arm blocking it. The hand holding the knife was searing black from the contact with the blade of the evil spirit's. A Yan's face grew purple, his eyes bulging. Lin Yan didn't dare to hesitate for a moment and scrambled over to protect A-Yan from behind. There was a clanging sound and the dagger rolled to the ground.

The little Daoist broke free from the evil spirit's hands, clutching his bleeding wound and groaning intermittently: "Lin Yan. . . Immortal Gu. . . Immortal Gu's spirit is trapped. . . I couldn't get her. . ."

Lin Yan supported the little Daoist's shoulders. His eyes gleamed, and the soft deer-like eyes were different from those when he had when he cast the spell. "The curse. . . Be careful." A-Yan whispered. Lin Yan hadn't gotten the chance to ask what was going on before his thin body couldn't support his own weight. His eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou looked at each other, shocked by the outcome, unable to utter a word.

[thedeaditeslayer]

Greg Nicotero Talks ‘Creepshow’ Season Two, His ‘Evil Dead’ Love Letter And Exploring More Iconic Horror IPs.

This interview with Greg Nictorero covers the season premiere episode that is a homage to Evil Dead. Recommended reading below!

The first season of Creepshow was a monster hit for AMC’s horror streamer, Shudder.

Becoming the most-watched program in the platform’s history, it smashed several records in terms of viewership, total minutes streamed, and new subscriber sign-ups. The show’s second season is about to drop, and a third has already been confirmed.

I caught up with horror legend and Creepshow’s showrunner, Greg Nicotero, to discuss the show’s killer formula for success, paying tribute to iconic multimillion-dollar franchises and what stands in the way of a new Creepshow movie.

Simon Thompson: How does making season two compare to your experience on the first season?

Greg Nicotero: Well, we got the green light to do Creepshow while I was shooting The Walking Dead, so we had to develop the stories, get the scripts written, prep in six weeks, so the entirety of season one was done between January and April. It was fast and furious. I’ve been in The Walking Dead world for ten years, so I was like, ‘How hard can it be? You build a bunch of sets, get some cameras, you get a bunch of great actors and a good script, and you shoot it.’ Man, I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. You’re creating an entirely new universe, all new sets, all new cast and crew every three and a half days. I felt like it was grabbing the horns of a bucking bull and just holding on for dear life. We made it through by sheer will. I had to deliver something that stayed true to the spirit of George A. Romero and Creepshow. If I screwed it up, I wasn’t going to get another chance. So, I don’t know if I had any fun on season one.

Thompson: Season one of Creepshow was a massive success for Shudder in so many ways, from viewership to subscriptions as well as critically. Did you soak that in?

Nicotero: I didn’t read many reviews because I didn’t want my heart to be broken. I’m a sensitive guy. I would probably find the one sh***y one and just be devastated. However, one thing that people saw across the board was that I had a passion for the material and put my heart into it. That gave me a lot of confidence to go into season two, stand up straight, grab those horns and control the show and fight for the stories I wanted to tell. I also wanted to have fun with it. I feel like season two has got that heart and passion, but it’s fun and pays tribute to everything important to me and my upbringing, from building monster models and watching TV horror hosts to the loving nod to Sam Raimi. These stories all meant something to me. I feel like I’ve matured 100 years between season one and season two.

Thompson: That’s the Public Television of the Dead story in the first episode of season two. It blew my mind a little bit.

Nicotero: That makes me so happy to hear that. I worked so closely with Sam on Evil Dead II and Army of Darkness. When I read the script, I loved that it was a nod, but it became something else when we got into making it. There’s a  bit where Ted Raimi starts to float on the Appraisers Road Trip set; I put that in, and the camera work with the evil force going down the hallway; they weren’t in the script. I was like, ‘If I’m going to do this, I’m going to go all the f***ing way.’ I even adjusted some of the dialogue, like when Ted Raimi talks about the book being in his family for years and gathering dust in the fruit cellar. Any opportunity I had to buy into the fact that maybe the Necronomicon is a real thing and that Sam and his brothers went off and made this movie with his book, I took it.  Sam was shooting the Dr. Strange movie, but I reached out to him right before shooting it. Without a doubt, it’s probably the most respectful send-up of the Evil Dead universe. Every one of the actors was like, ‘F**k, man, I love Evil Dead II. This is so much fun.’ It was always intended to be a love letter to Sam and Evil Dead. Creepshow is all about paying tribute, little love letters, to the likes of EC Comics, Stephen King, George A. Romero, and so many other things. We got to change the Necronomicon just a little bit. We still wanted it to feel like the original, but we also don’t want anyone to feel like we’d infringed copyright. Even the appraiser’s name, Goodman Tapert, is a tribute. David M. Goodman was the transportation coordinator on Evil Dead, and Rob Tapert was the producer. If only I could have got Bruce Campbell down there, steal him out of retirement, to do something on Creepshow, that would have been awesome.

Thompson: You got a great cast together for the first season, and you have raised the bar.

Nicotero: I feel fortunate that we were able to get the caliber of talent we did. Kevin Dillon, Justin Long, D’Arcy Carden, C. Thomas Howell, Ali Larter, the list of great people who jumped on board for season two goes on. Every one of them did a great job. They all showed up, were prepared, and knew their lines, and they were excited to be back to work. It’s always funny when you bring actors into your world. They show up, work for three days, and leave. And I remember in season one, I went through my phone, and I convinced Adrienne Barbeau and Giancarlo Esposito to do it because they all knew me, and I had worked with them on different projects. When they walked onto the set, they saw how fast we were moving and how immersive it was, and they had a really good time. Many actors find a tremendous amount of freedom in immersing themselves in a role that will take up their life for just three or four days.

Thompson: Going back to you paying homage to Evil Dead in an episode this season, would you like to do that with more iconic horror IPs or pick up on previous Creepshow stories?

Nicotero: The freedom is the greatest part about it. We talked about potentially revisiting stories from the first Creepshow movie, but that is convoluted in terms of the rights. You can’t clear it. There are stories that I guarantee you, especially after you see season two and season three, that we would love to revisit and pay tribute to those genres that we love. If I had a way to intertwine a Jason Voorhees story, a Michael Myers story, or a Freddy Krueger story without having the people that own the rights to those franchises jumping up and down and screaming, I would do it in a minute. For me, it’s really fun to be able to take a story and look at it from a different vantage point like we did with Evil Dead. So often now, the world is about taking material you think you know everything about and giving it to you from a different perspective. I think Wicked was probably the first piece of material that did that. It took The Wizard of Oz, a story that everybody knows and loves, and looked at it from the witch’s perspective. I read the screenplay before there was a show because I think the writers wanted it to be a movie first. I remember reading it and thinking, ‘Oh my God, it changes how we do look at everything related to The Wizard of Oz.’ The idea that we can take the horror genre and tell it from a perspective that gives us a completely new take is exciting and allows people to pay tribute to the original material and put a new spin on it. It gives fans something exciting that they can’t get from the original material.

Thompson: It was great to hear that there will be a third season but what’s the latest on a potential new Creepshow feature film?

Nicotero: I would love that. We’ve talked about it. When you do a show like this, you do it for the amount of money that we do it for, it becomes successful, and people want more, to get someone to turn around and give you more money to do a movie, they’re like, ‘Why would we do that when we’ve got a great show right here?’ I would love to do a Creepshow movie and expand the world with bigger stories and a little bit more money. I’m sure that down the road, that will become a reality, but right now, part of the beauty of Creepshow is that it gives you these bite-sized meals, these little appetizers. With today’s short attention span, you can watch 20 minutes and then go back later and watch another 20 minutes. I think that is very much in tune with how today’s society devours content. The beauty of Creepshow is that every story is so different, and every theme is so different that you’re getting an entirely new experience with each story.

The second season of Creepshow lands on Shudder on Thursday, April 1, 2021.

[ichayalovesyou]

Other Tribute: Amok Time (Pon Farr)

Peddlers of Flesh

~Act One: Man Was Meant To Fly~

Bremen~by Pigpen Theatre Co. from Bremen (Album)

“I would at least like to know what’s going on!”

It wasn’t out of the ordinary, Jim running off into the unknown, Spock so quick to follow, himself, reluctantly trundling behind as always, but this time felt… different. They’d been hijacked by deific wannabes before, but not like this, was it just the transporter, the promise of being trapped underground (or worse, stuck in a wall)? Bones couldn’t put a finger on it, but it was… unnerving the way this, Sargon, had captured Jim’s interest.

Worse than that, he had captured Jim!

“I came across some robbers three, at first I took everything away from them, then they took everything away from me.”

Poor Atlas~by Dessa from A Badly Broken Code (Album)

“Our bodies Sargon, for what purpose?” “To build”

The timer on Jim’s body before this fever stopped the his heart kept ticking in Bones’s head. Were these creatures’ designs really beyond man’s comprehension? Could they really be their “children” as Sargon claimed? Was it their burden, then, to give these things bodies, even for a short, dangerous, time? For every Kolos there were a dozen things like Redjac, Landru, or who knows what else.

Bones didn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m building a body from blueprints in braille, I’m building a body where our design has failed.”

Grand Canyon~by Puscifer from Money Shot (Album)

“I was floating… in time and space…”

Fever scare aside, it had been a long time since he’s ever seen Jim this euphoric, this excited about anything. Of course it could be a high on whatever just happened to him. Yet, even as Dr. Mulhall said it aloud, he had his doubts. Those eyes… they were sober, if unusually bright with curiosity. Leonard found himself wondering, what it would be like to experience what Jim had described, it made him think of the Mind Meld… of Spock.

The way he spoke so fondly, so, familiarly of it to Spock.

It stirred uncomfortable feelings in himself.

“One among infinity, witnessing the majesty, calm in this humility, hope as far as one can see, standing on the edge of forever”

Time For Us~by Elsiane from Mechanics of Emotion (Album)

“Not a list of possible miracles, just a plain, simple why, that overrides all danger!”

Fear overrode curiosity in Leonard’s mind, he found it all too convenient that, for whatever reason, Sargon needed both the Captain and the Commander. He could maybe swallow the worry of risking one of them, but not both, not if he could avoid it. It was bad enough they nearly died on every other away mission. Besides, this all sounded too good to be true, why did these god-creatures always have to speak with condescension and vague riddles?! Of all the people in this galaxy they could’ve called upon… why did it have to be them?

No, a promised Renaissance was not enough.

“We need results from this now, we need resolving, cannot waste more time, get resolving now! This is a time for us only, only, only.”

Onward To The Edge~by Symphony of Science from Onward To The Edge (Single)

“They used to say if man was meant to fly he’d have wings, but he did fly, he discovered he had to.”

Oh no, here goes Jim into one of his speeches, there was no escaping now. Even Mulhall seemed interested… Jim was right of course, but the barbs in Leonard’s gut refused to abandon him. He could stop all of this by saying “no”, so, what was stopping him? Bones already knew the answer.

He may be able to say no to a mission.

But he couldn’t say no to that face, not when it was the happiest he’d seen Jim in months.

Here’s to counting on his gut being wrong.

“These are no longer abstractions, these are worlds, maybe there’s life there! They’ve changed how we think about Earth.”

~Act Two: A Sense of Foreboding~

I Hope Your World Is Kind~by Auri from Auri (Album)

“Vulcans value peace above all else Henoch.” “Of course! As do we Doctor, as do we.”

Henoch’s comment about conquering others set Bones even more on edge, why would something benevolent so casually bring that up? He knew how deeply Spock loathed being controlled, worse, being made to hurt others because he was not in control. He thought back to the Blood Fever, he couldn’t let that happen to him again, not if he could help it.

Something about this Henoch was rubbing him the wrong way… Perhaps he’d better keep an eye on him.

“The rooftops all sleeping, underneath them brittle little man-things, unveiled clowns, false kings, every moment the world in writing.”

Close to the Sun~by Porcelain Pill from Close to The Sun (Original Game Score)

“I can find no reason for concern and yet, I am filled with foreboding.”

They’d almost killed Jim, again. Everything was going to plan, but… was he right? Bones couldn’t stop staring at those receptacles, delicate spheres holding three souls. What was it like in there? The promised infinity that Jim described, the oneness, he couldn’t even imagine. It was unsettling, it felt like they were all in the room with him, he felt, compelled, to touch one. It may as well be the closest, Jim’s, he really was there! It was like he was putting a hand on his shoulder like he’d always done.

They really were delicate…

Sargon’s people better hop to it on those android bodies, he didn’t know how long he could let this go on.

“I fear we’re sinking deeper with more speed the more we strive, is that what we get for playing too close to the sun?”

Beekeeper~by Dessa from Parts of Speech (Album)

“He’s dead…”

It was like all the light had left the world, cold and grey. He should’ve been faster, trusted less, fought harder, said “No!” For God’s sake! Leonard felt a strange kinship, almost a mourning for Sargon in that moment, they had both made the mistake of trusting Henoch, and now Jim has paid dearly for it.

He thought of the receptacle that still held Jim’s soul.

Could he find a way?

Was this one death… or two?

“The surgeon and farmer meet, and each greets the other with a bow, they’re kindred instruments you know, the scalpel and the plow.”

~Act Three: The Savage Doctor~

Burned Out~by dodie from Human (Album)

“Doctor… would you like to save your Captain Kirk?”

Leonard’s gut twisted in protest, these people, these things that had stolen the bodies of others, that killed Jim, was there a chance they could be bargained with? What was so horrible that Sargon had forbidden it?

Oh God… That was it.

So, they intended on taking Spock from him too? It figured, but- maybe, if he could get Jim back, could they take both Henoch and Thalayssa on to save Spock? Was it worth risking Dr. Mulhall? His eyes were drawn to the Captain, or what was left of him, lying there, worse than dead…

Then, Thalayssa threatened him, and Bones snapped back to his senses. He knew what she was.

And he knew who he had to be.

“Make me a fairy whatever it takes, and just like her tale, my dream was a scam, you waited smiling for this.”

Girl Into Devil (I Belong To Me)~by S.J. Tucker from Stolen Season (Album)

“Neither Jim nor I can trade a body we don’t own.”

His utter disgust with this woman, this monster, outweighed everything else on Leonard’s mind, even the roiling cauldron of self-loathing that’d emerged from even having been tempted by her offer! How little this creature wearing Dr. Mulhall’s face regarded life that wasn’t her own! How could she think for a second that he, that Jim, would ever abide by something so, unbelievably callous. It would break every oath they had ever made.

Some oaths are worth keeping.

“Stolen fairy tale girls make the difference between life and death, it all comes down to choices now you’ve only the hard ones left.”

Hunger Strike~by Temple of The Dog from Temple of The Dog (Album)

“I will not peddle flesh! I’m a physician.”

Ever fiber in McCoy’s being roared at her meager attempt to convince him again. He was a Doctor damnit! He would not play god! Selfish creatures playing with other people’s lives is what had gotten them into this damn mess in the first place, he would have no part in it! He would not bargain in blood and guts like the dark age doctors that came before him, Jim would never forgive him, and he’d never forgive himself.

She could do what she wanted to him, take by force what she’d tried to bargain for, but he would never break his oath, never.

“I can’t feed on the powerless when my cup’s already overfilled. I’m going hungry.”

The Rains of Castamere~by Malukah from The Rains of Castamere (Single)

“Spock’s consciousness is gone, we must kill his body, the thing in it.”

Even after all of that, the temptation, the bargaining, the suffering, even after getting Jim back… he had still lost. He failed. Here Bones was, thinking that maybe Sargon and his people knew the value of a Human life, a Vulcan life, they proved him wrong. What in God’s- no, to hell with gods, what had Sargon said to Jim to convince him to kill Spock? There had to be a reason, all the torture in the world would never have made Jim give up that green blooded… was he, being controlled?

One look at Jim’s face told him otherwise.

There was nothing left to do, but make sure Henoch didn’t ruin anyone else’s life.

So much for his oath.

“And who are you? The proud lord said, that I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat who saw the truth unknown.”

~Act Four: Sacrifice~

The Coldest Goodbye~by Mary Kate Wiles from Spies Are Forever (Original Cast Recording)

“Spock… my friend Spock… if only there’d been another way.”

It was bitter. Cold. Bones stood there frozen to the spot as though still paralyzed by Henoch, there was no comfort in him being destroyed. Part of Leonard wanted to go to Jim, but, what would be the point? Spock is dead. He made the poison that killed him, or at least, what was left of him. Why did death always make an easy solution? It was the past all over again. He was glad, in that case, that he wasn’t beside the Captain, he could tell without having to see, all the light had left the world. It was just like he felt when Sargon- Henoch, killed Jim’s body. And now…

“The warmest hello, to the coldest goodbye, remember, remember, spies never die… spies are forever”

Long Nights~by Eddie Vedder from Into The Wild (Movie Score)

“I could not allow the sacrifice of one so close to you.”

If the Lord giveth and then taketh away, then what did that make Sargon? Oh hell, what was he doing to Christine?! Hadn’t he made it clear to these people, these things, that there would be no trading of life?! It wasn’t as though he could stop it, it was only Thalayssa’s conscience that kept her from obliterating him on the spot. Bones hated being at the mercy of every other god-like being that turned up this side of the galaxy, nothing good ever came of it.

Then… he understood.

“I’ve got this light, I’ll be around to grow, who I was before I cannot recall.”

Bring On The Wonder~by Susan Enan from Plainsong (Album)

“Sargon.”

So many thoughts, words, feelings, carried by that name, Bones found himself unable to say anything else to this being, this god, that brought Spock back to hi- back to them, that would never have let Spock die in the first place. Maybe… maybe he was wrong. For the first time in a long time, Bones hoped he had just bad luck, perhaps there were more Sargons out there in the universe than Henochs, and they had only encountered more malevolent forces because the good had done what Sargon had to… he hoped that-

No.

He prayed that was true.

“Bring on the wonder, we got it all wrong, we pushed you down deep in our souls for too long.”

Dark Days~by Punch Brothers from Songs From District 12 & Beyond (Album)

“Oblivion together does not frighten me beloved.”

Something about that… phrase, hit somewhere deep in Leonard’s soul, resonating with him, he barely heard Chapel though he certainly agreed. He thought about how close he had come to losing the two men closest to him in all the galaxy, just how hard he fought to beat off the specter of death from them, again. And worse! This time he could’ve prevented it all if he had just trusted his instincts! He couldn’t even put into thoughts how much he cared, all he had was this… genuine, warm, decent feeling in his gut.

Maybe together, shouldn’t frighten him.

There… there was something Jim, and Spock, deserved to know.

Fear be damned.

“We don’t have to reap the fear they sow, friends, as long as we hide our love away in the good they’ll never know.”