#another possibility is that it is revealed at the end of the series that its all been the same guy

[lixiesbabyhands]

what i think people are missing about derol in glass onion is that he is played by noah segan. the same guy who played trooper wagner in the first knives out movie. and i for one, think noah should continue to play goofy little characters in the rest of the knives out movies. not anything to do with the mystery, not a potential killer or anything, just a goofy little guy living his best life, fangirling over his fave mystery author and getting high as hell on a billionaires greek island. good for him.

[fatecantstopme]

The Wink

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky reveals how he really feels about you through a series of winks and an answer to a question you never wanted to ask.

Warnings: SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Aftercare. Small bits of fluff. Slight body issues (Bucky hates his scars). Feelings about being used for sex. Use of pet names.

"You're an idiot," you said with a laugh.

"Maybe, but this was entirely your idea."

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. "It was your idea, James."

He cocked his head to the side as if he was deciding if he agreed with you or not. He took another swig of his beer and shrugged. "It's possible that you're right." He held up a dart and shook it in front of you. "So you gonna take the bet or not?"

You grabbed the dart from his hand and grinned. "You're still an idiot." You threw the dart and it hit the board with expert precision. "Are you sure you wanna take the bet?" you teased.

Hr grinned and stepped forward, throwing his own dart at the board. It was an instant bullseye. "Oh doll, I'm gonna win this one." He winked as he teased you.

You groaned, knowing you were probably going to regret this later. You threw the dart again, aim pretty good, but certainly not a bullseye. "Shit."

Bucky threw his bullseye a second time. He turned to look at you, shooting you a wink as he grabbed his drink. "Your turn, doll."

"You can't win, Barnes."

"I'm pretty sure the game is mine, sweets."

You bit your lip and turned to face the board again. You knew that losing wasn't an option. You took a deep breath and threw your last dart, sinking it right in the bullseye. "Yes!!"

Bucky smiled and threw his last dart. "Ooo, bullseye number three, doll. Looks like I win." He winked at you again before setting his drink down and leaning closer to you. "So now you have to answer my question."

"What was your question again?" you asked in a light tone, trying to give yourself more time to formulate a better answer.

"If you could only save one person's life on the team, who would you choose?"

It was the question you never wanted to think about, let alone answer. If it came down to it, who would you pick? Whose life did you value more? Could you even pick between your teammates--your friends? Hell, every single one of them was more like family...how could you pick one family member to save?

The problem is, you knew your answer. You knew it from the moment Bucky had first asked the question 20 minutes prior. You'd refused to answer, thinking he would just let it go, but you should have known better. Instead, he made a wager...putting the answer to his question on a game darts. A game you had lost.

You could answer him honestly, but that terrified you beyond belief. You could lie to him instead, but that had its own risks. It was a rock and a hard place scenario and he knew he had you.

"I can't choose, Buck," you complained.

"It's hypothetical!"

"I know, but I love all of you. How could I possibly choose?"

"I chose," he said simply.

Your mind wandered back to a mission from three weeks before. The mission where Bucky had saved your life...

The room suddenly lit up, the muzzle of a gun flashing brightly as a bullet shot from it. The gun was pointed at you and you knew you were about to die. You could practically feel the end racing towards you at the speed of a bullet. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain, but it never came. Your eyes opened to a scene you'd never imagined seeing.

Bucky stood in front of you, his gun firing off a round as he dropped to his knees. His bullet hit his target, killing the Hydra agent instantly. When Bucky hit the ground, you hit it with him, coming to his front to assess the damage.

"Bucky!" your eyes scanned his body, panic settling into your chest. He was bleeding, but he looked alright.

"I'm fine, doll. It's just a shoulder wound."

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you jump in front of me?"

"Because you wouldn't have survived it. And I couldn't live with that," he said softly.

He wasn't wrong. That bullet would have killed you. While it only pierced his shoulder, it would have hit you directly in the head, killing you instantly.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Anything for you, doll," he said with a wink.

Back in the present, you shook your head, clearing the memories from your mind. "That's not the same, Buck. I'd die for any one of you. That's much different than picking which one of you to save."

He shook his head. "You didn't see the whole thing. I didn't just save your life, I chose yours over Sam's."

You froze, trying to picture the moments before the gun went off, but the room had been so dark...you hadn't even seen Sam. "Sam's fine, though."

"Sam was fighting another Hydra agent when that one squared up with you. I saw him raise the gun at the same moment I saw Sam get pulled into a choke hold with a knife to his throat. I chose to save you."

You were silent, allowing his words to sink in. "I--I didn't know that. Sam never said anything."

"Sam got away moments later, so he never had a reason to bring it up."

"You just acted on instinct though."

"Perhaps, but I knew I would save you if it came down to it. I'd always choose you." He smiled and shot you another wink. It was the third one this evening alone and you were starting to wonder if they meant more than you'd originally thought.

Bucky was always winking at you. Sometimes jokingly, sometimes in a flirtatious manner, and sometimes even in a serious moment. They always made your heart flutter, but you didn't think they meant anything to him. Bucky was flirty, but he'd never made a move, so you assumed he wasn't interested.

"You still haven't answered my question, doll, and you do owe me an answer."

You took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine. I'd pick you, alright?" you said with a huff.

He looked surprised, but unconvinced. "Why? Because I picked you?"

You groaned, deciding to lay your cards out on the table, come what may. "No you idiot. Your stupid face popped into my head the moment you asked me the question, okay? I knew I'd pick you."

"Then why didn't you answer it the first time?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer."

"Ugh!" You sighed again. "I didn't say it because I didn't want to explain why it was you."

Bucky looked at you strangely. "You're not gonna make me ask, are you?"

"Damnit, James," you groaned. "I can't live without you, okay? There's no world worth being in if you're not in it."

You couldn't believe you'd just said that out loud, but here you were, heart laid bare, in the awkwardly quiet compound game room.

Bucky didn't say a word, but he wasn't speechless. He was simply contemplating his next move, weighing the consequences of his actions before he made them.

After a few more painfully silent moments, he grumbled "Fuck it," before crossing the short distance between you two and pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, yet passionate kiss.

You were surprised by the suddenness of his actions, but you melted into him without a second thought. The kiss was infinitely better than you had imagined, and you had done quite a lot of imagining.

When Bucky's lips left yours, you whined slightly, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you again.

"Sorry, doll. I've wanted to do that for ages."

"Well what you took you so long?" you asked.

He raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't sure you wanted me to. You never said anything either, you know. At least I dropped hints."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you please just kiss me again?"

He grinned and leaned back into you, mouth encompassing yours instantly. He loved the taste of your lips, the feeling of your tongue fighting against his, the way you gripped his arms like you were terrified he was going to disappear.

Bucky pulled away once more, the action almost painful. "Should we move this to my room? Anyone could see us here."

"Bit presumptuous of you, James," you teased.

He started to back peddle, a look of panic crossing his features. "Oh, I--uh--I didn't mean--"

You laughed. "I was teasing you, handsome. I'd love to move this elsewhere."

He relaxed, exhaling long and slow. "Thank god." He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you towards the elevator. "Come on."

"Buck, my legs are a lot shorter than yours, so can you slow down a little?" you asked as you jogged after him.

"Sorry, sweets." He turned towards you and scooped you up with ease before continuing to the elevator.

"What are you doing?"

"It's faster if I just carry you."

"Are we in a rush?"

He gave you an unreadable look. "Let's just say I've wanted you for so long that I actually might not be able to contain myself for much longer."

You smirked. "So you're gonna take me right here in this elevator?"

His eyes darkened. "Don't tempt me, baby, because I will."

You blushed. "I wouldn't say no..."

He looked like he was considering it for a moment before shaking his head to clear his dirty mind. "No, no. Our first time needs to be in a bed, where I can attend to your every need, not some dirty elevator."

You'd be lying if you said that the idea of him attending to your every need wasn't sexy as hell. The image of him on his knees for you sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

Bucky inhaled deeply and a low growl escaped his throat. "Fuck, you smell good."

You gasped, realizing he could actually smell your arousal...freaking super soldier senses.

The elevator door finally opened and Bucky practically ran towards his room. He pushed his door open and kicked it closed behind him before tossing you on the bed. He stepped away from you and took a few deep breaths.

"Bucky? You okay?" you asked in concern.

"I just need a minute, doll. Need to control myself."

"Why? I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be and you know it," he growled. "I could hurt you and I might if I lose control."

You crawled across the bed towards him, hand reaching out to him. "You're not going to hurt me, Buck. Just come here...please..."

His eyes met yours and you were taken aback by how dark they were. The normally bright blue irises were almost entirely hidden by his pupils, an almost feral look in them. It was an expression that might terrify a lesser woman, but you trusted Bucky with your life. That wasn't going to stop in the bedroom.

"Come here, baby," you whispered gently.

He let you take his arm and pull him towards the bed. He stopped when his legs touched the edge of the mattress. "I wanna be gentle with you, doll. Treat you right."

You cocked your head to the side as you took him in. "While I love that sentiment, Bucky, I don't need that. I need you and I'll take you in whatever form you come."

He groaned. "You're amazing."

You grinned. "Oh baby, you ain't seen nothing yet." You shot him a wink to emphasize your statement and he practically jumped on top of you, earning a squeal of delight from you.

He pinned you to the bed and started kissing you again as his hands began to undress you. His hands were fumbling with your shirt and he groaned in frustration before simply ripping it in two.

"Bucky!"

"I'm sorry, I'll buy you three to replace it," he mumbled, reattaching his lips to your skin.

He quickly rid you of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a bralette that was arguably a little small for your chest.

Bucky sat back to take you in, eyes hungrily dancing across your body. He tapped the fabric between your breasts, "Is this expensive?"

You shook your head. "I have a couple more like it."

"Good," he said as he pulled a knife from his pants and slid it under the fabric, cutting the bralette in two. He cut the straps and tossed the ruined fabric onto the floor along with his blade.

You stared at him in a shocked silence, wetness seeping into your underwear. "That was hot as hell."

He grinned and inhaled deeply. "I can tell you liked it, pretty girl."

He grabbed your underwear and tugged them harshly down your legs. "Holy shit," he murmured, sliding a finger between your folds to collect your juices. "This all for me?"

"All for you, Bucky."

He licked his finger and groaned loudly. "Fuck, baby, you taste even better than I imagined."

He dropped to his stomach between your thighs, spreading your legs as wide as he could. He didn't bother to tease you, just dove right in, devouring you with a kind of hunger you'd never experienced.

You were a moaning mess in minutes, begging him not to stop, a plea he took to heart. When your orgasm hit, he worked you through it, never stopping to even take a breath.

You tugged on his hair and whimpered, but he kept going, needing to taste you for a little while longer. He wanted to feel you explode on his tongue again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Bucky--I'm so close, please," you gasped.

He dug his fingers into your hips and kept your pussy tight to his face, not letting you squirm away.

Moments later you came with a cry of his name, waves of pleasure making your hips buck against his face. He worked you through it, only stopping when you begged him to give you a break.

He lifted his head, giving you a view of his slick covered beard. "I could eat that pretty pussy all day long, baby." He licked his lips. "Tastes so damn good."

You whimpered softly and reached for him, wanting to kiss him again. He wiped his face on his shirt before tugging it off over his head and lowering his body back down to yours. You held him close as you kissed him, fingers lightly tracing the scars on his left shoulder.

You felt his body stiffen under your hands and you pulled away to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he murmured.

"Hey," you said softly, grabbing his chin to force him to look at you. "Talk to me."

He sighed heavily. "I'm just not used to anyone touching my scars."

"Oh," you said in surprise, pulling your hand away from him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Shit--no, that's not what I meant. Most women tend to avoid them. I know they're not pretty to look at."

"I think they're beautiful."

He looked at you as if you were insane.

"I'm serious, Bucky. Each one tells a unique story of your life. They're a part of you and that makes them beautiful to me."

His eyes softened and you could have sworn you saw the ghost of a tear slide down his cheek. "I don't deserve you," he whispered.

"Oh hush. That's not for you to decide." You hooked your leg around his hips and flipped him over with surprising ease. "If we had more time, I'd kiss every single one of your scars until you believed me, but we don't."

His eyes widened. "Are we in a rush, baby?" he teased, echoing your earlier statement.

You grinned. "If I don't get your cock in me soon, I may never recover."

"We can't let that happen, so we better get to it."

He helped you remove his pants, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. His bulge was massive and your mouth was watering in anticipation. You gripped the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down slowly, allowing his cock to spring free.

You inhaled sharply as you took in the massive erection before you, a slight panic settling into your bones at the thought of having something that large inside of you.

As if he sensed your panic, Bucky chuckled lightly and said, "Don't worry, baby. It'll fit."

"I don't think so."

He grinned. "We'll make it fit."

You looked up at him with what you hoped was a neutral expression. Concern immediately clouded his face, so you knew you'd failed miserably.

"Hey doll, it's okay. I'll go nice and slow, alright? I'll be gentle."

You nodded and took a deep breath. You positioned yourself directly above his painfully erect cock and began to lower yourself down very slowly.

Bucky gripped your hips tightly, making sure to guide you as slowly as he could manage. You both moaned as he began to enter you, the stretch causing you to dig your nails into his chest.

"I've got you," he whispered.

You tried to lower yourself further, but Bucky's grip on your hips kept you from moving. He meant it when he said he wanted to be as gentle as possible.

"I can take it, Buck. Let me try," you murmured.

He looked at you and nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but he loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to take control.

You took a deep breath, deciding to handle this like removing a band-aid--just get it over with. You sat down on top of him, sheathing his entire cock within your tight walls.

You cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, body stretched in ways it had never been stretched before.

Bucky groaned loudly, almost covering your cry. He looked at you with wide eyes, checking to see if you were okay.

Your body was acclimating to his size and you were becoming desperate the longer he remained still. "Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need you to fuck me--please."

He gripped your hips again and started to move slowly, letting you match his pace.

"I'm not made of glass," you grumbled.

He looked up at you in surprise. "What?"

"You're not going to break me, Bucky. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, understand?"

He nodded rapidly, eyes darkening once more. "Are you sure?"

"Fuck. Me. Now." you demanded.

He wasn't going to deny you such a request. He shifted his body, planted his feet on the bed, and began to piston up into you with speed and force.

"Fuck!" you gasped, the pleasure slamming into you like a freight train.

"You're so tight, doll. Feels so good wrapped around my cock."

Bucky was giving you exactly what you'd asked for and you loved it. The tip of his cock brushed your cervix with every thrust, the whisper of pain only adding to your enjoyment.

"Squeezing me so tight, baby. You gonna cum for me? Gonna make a mess on my cock?"

You whimpered and nodded rapidly, your third orgasm of the night creeping up on you. "Feels so good, Buck."

"I know, baby. It's like heaven--could stay here forever."

Your fingernails were digging crescent shapes into his chest as you clung to him, unable to do anything more than moan and gasp his name. "Please," you whimpered.

He knew exactly what you were asking for, so he didn't slow down or alter his movements. He continued to pound into you until you came with a cry of his name, pussy pulsating around his cock.

"Fuck!" he gasped. "Fuck--baby--shit, you've gotta stop that or I'm not gonna last."

"Can't help it," you mumbled. "Feels so good."

"I know pretty girl." He pulled you down to his chest and held on tightly as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to get a better angle.

By this stage, your body was hyper-sensitive and you could feel every single movement he made.

His hips began to move again and his fingers caressed every part of you he could reach. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he fucked you. "Can you give me one more, sweets?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"You sure, doll? I think my pussy can do it." He changed his angle, giving him the ability to hit your g-spot with each thrust, as if to punctuate his sentence.

You moaned loudly and clenched tightly around him, eliciting a groan from his lips.

"I think she can give me one more, baby. My pussy--treating me so good--gonna make sure she feels good too."

You moaned again, nails clawing at his back as he fucked you.

"Yeah? You like that, huh?" he groaned into your ear. "Who's pussy is this, baby?"

"You--yours," you gasped out.

"That's right, doll. It's mine."

He knew you were getting close, so he slid his left hand down between your bodies, using his finger to gently massage your clit.

"Bucky!" you gasped.

"You gonna cum for me again, sweets?"

"So close," you whispered.

"I know, doll."

Three more thrusts and you were falling into an ocean of pleasure, wave after wave crashing into you. You were barely aware of Bucky chasing his own high, the crest of your pleasure blinding you to anything else.

Bucky came with a low groan of your name, spilling his seed deep within you. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of you, body shaking slightly from the intensity of his orgasm.

You laid like that for several minutes before Bucky finally shifted, rolling off of you and leaving you cold and empty. You reached for him almost instinctively, but he wasn't beside you.

You whimpered softly, looking around the room for him. He appeared from the bathroom holding a washcloth, a look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I didn't know where you went," you whispered sheepishly.

He looked sad. "Just wanted to get a nice warm washcloth to clean you up with, doll."

"Oh."

He very gently began to clean you up, hands surprisingly soft. "I've got you, doll. I'm here."

You felt kind of foolish...you were simply used to be treated differently by men. You'd always been the girl they'd fuck and leave, none of them ever stayed long enough to even make sure you'd cum, let alone clean you up after. It was wrong of you to assume that Bucky was the same.

When he was done, he tossed the washcloth to the floor and crawled back into the bed, pulling you into his chest. "Wanna tell me what's wrong, sweets?"

"I'm--I'm just not used to aftercare, that's all. I...I thought you left."

"It's my room," he teased softly, laying a kiss on top of your head. "Besides, I'd much rather hold you after sex than lay in an empty bed."

You looked up at him, taking in his disheveled appearance and eyes so full of love it almost hurt to look at them. "Thank you, Bucky."

His brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For being you," you said simply, placing a soft kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, the one he got from saving your life.

"Anything for you, doll. Anything for you."

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: Bluey's The Sign

Bluey is still great and I don't need to go into why again. What's most important is that even in such short time of knowing this cartoon, you can see the growth of it all. Joe and the crew share how the world of the Heeler family gets to learn, adapt, and grow without rapidly warping the status quo. You go through and see how everyone is able to work through rough and weird times with sincere maturity. Season 3's Finale is where this all comes to a head and it's as beautiful as I expected, MORESO.

Brandi got to be happy would've been enough for me

The Sign deals with the idea of hard ideas. Those hard ideas that aren't inherently about change, but issues that when faced with initially, it feels like a bad ending. A bad ending which can't be easily fixed and you don't know where to go from there, and it hurts. It hurts when hard ideas swoop in, ruins your mood, festers your mind, and leaves you aimless. Bluey shows that it happens, this is the rare time where a ton of crap hits the fan in one day and it's not something Chili or Bandit or any adult can fix right away. I've never experienced this, but I felt the pain Bluey, Bingo, Frisky, and Chili went through where they're bargaining, burying, and avoiding confronting a potential reality they didn't want. This is where the real hero of the special comes in...

Haven't said before, but Calypso is a masterful teacher

The parable of the farmer works as an incredible seedling thought for Bluey when she reveals her moving. It's not a story I ever heard, but known the message all too well. The message of not just accepting bad things that happen to you, but know that it'll never be the end of the world because of them. Don't think of it as deep, but a natural motif to grow with. This is where a debacle regarding the episode churns with me. It can seem like a cop-out that every character gets what they wanted by the end, as I said before the cartoon can be more idealistic than what our real life allows. Then again, the true beauty of Bluey I believe has always been if it's possible, the family will find a way and do it responsibly.

If happiness can be achieved, they'll know how to get it

Beyond all this, the special is great. They waste no minute here in art and storytelling, and as said before, it's like Smash Bros Ultimate where everything is here. There are great callbacks to episodes you probably wouldn't have thought about, on top of getting to see the whole Heeler family on Chili and Bandit's sides like that blew my mind. Plus I love seeing weddings, dude, like I wish I was there with them. The feels are tsunami-ous like it's unfair to say this is the all-time best episode of the show, but darn if it wouldn't be earned.

When else will I see the epicness of riding shotgun?

But to conclude, it's been said that after this the Ludo crew will take a indefinite hiatus from Bluey the series, especially when they have a new project underway. And honestly? I'm more than satisfied. The show could've ended here and I would've been somewhat at peace with them giving us this beautiful episode. I of course didn't get into this series since its beginning, but I came around the right time to enjoy it myself, to see others recognize its greatness, and to finally make it here. It's great to know this was only another chapter in the book, and I'll see to be around when it gets to come back. As for The Sign? What else is there to say?

It was Beautiful. Cheers to the crew for everything.

[maleyanderecafe]

When Jasy Whistles (Webcomic)

Created by: Cibeles

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

You probably have seen this one around, but I did find it very unique in terms of the worldbuilding. It can be admittedly fairly slow in some points in terms of pacing though actually the thing I enjoyed the most out of the series was seeing Jasy's siblings and learning more about them. Currently as of writing this, the story has finished its second season and the creator is working on it's third and final season.

The story starts out with Hela, a girl who lives in an traditional/ relatively isolated town outside of modern things who wants to take after her grandmother and become the chief of her town one day. Hela's best friend Rodri is one day taken away by one of the demigods, Jasy, and Hela goes to get him back. Jasy needs a human to help him get through the gate as a demigod like himself is not able to, and promises that if he makes a pact with Hela and gets through, she will be able to get Rodri back. Hela is very suspicious of Jasy as not only did he kidnap her best friend, but there are folk stories about how you should not follow Jasy's whistle, as it lures them somewhere bad. However, with no other way to get Rodri back, Hela accepts the pact and they go on their adventure. They are attacked by one of Jasy's half brothers, Ao Ao, a beast that eats everything and gives birth to children with only the desire to consume. As Jasy is not able to hurt his siblings, Hela must be the one to protect him using her skills in archery. They are able to escape and slowly walk through the land itself. There they meet other people there, trapped under strange circumstances. All of them are cursed to grow until they are adults and are never able to grow old, all while still having to sustain themselves on the few resources they have in the land. Hela wishes to open the gate and free the people there, as they are all fighting over the resources, while Jasy doesn't seem to care whatsoever, as he has a distrust of humans after the previous one betrayed him while trying to open the gate. Despite this, Jasy is able to mostly have amends with the people there, and even meets another sibling of Jasy's, willing to give her face to him so as long as they can go through to the gate safely. In the end, this brother instead wants to have Jasy's face, something that he willingly trades over Hela's, so as long as Hela can stay alive. Hela eventually reaches the gate where she sacrifices herself to open it and allow the people into the land. This greatly affects Jasy as he suddenly realizes how much he had cared for and loves her. To get her back, Jasy goes into the spirit realm to try to save her, and he's able to see her past with Rodri. Jasy is fully willing to stay with her in this forever loop of her childhood, but the two of them eventually come back into the world, and now having opened the world so the humans can go in, recover there afterwards. Jasy and Hela continue to love each other in their honeymoon phase, until Jasy is captured by humans. Hela finds out the humans that caught him are under the leadership of Rodrigo's mother, who had been missing for a while, chasing after treasures. We find out that she is the human that betrayed Jasy initially and attempts to get Hela to shoot him, only for her to free him. The last couple of chapters reveals that Mboi Tu'i, the sibling that has taken care of the realm is actually Rodrigo in some way and wants to take Hela away.

So I will say right now I don't really know that much about South American mythos, so there's a lot of things that go over my head in terms of references or how each type of god acted, but I do feel that I did have a good understanding on how each of Tau's children acted and the kind of possible personalities that they have. It's definitely a unique take on mythos that we don't normally see. The artwork as well is very gorgeous, the characters are very pretty and I'm a fan of the more monster designs of the siblings as well, seeing how each of them came to be and just how much they have to suffer. The world that Jasy and Hela go into is very cool, the idea of humans that basically can live forever is both a blessing and a curse, as they cannot reproduce and they still have to eat and fight for territory. I think my favorite of his brothers is probably Kurupi because I really do like sad monster boys that are shunned because of their appearance. Compared to his more real life depictions in myths he's a lot more sympathetic and tragic, so it's nice to see those incorporated in there. The entire plot seems to eventually go to deal with Tau, Jasy's father, in some point in the future.

Still, despite this, I feel like the plot at times can be really slow. There are good moments like when Hela helps out the people who are in stuck fighting each other and we see the dynamic of the world, as well as the aforementioned lore of all of Jasy's siblings, but the actual development of Hela and Jasy's relationship is slow, all things considered. Initially, Jasy and Hela are more like enemies, as Hela is extremely suspicious of Jasy and vice versa, only cooperating with each other because they need each other's help. Still as the story goes on the two of them fall for each other and slowly develop feelings for each other. This isn't necessarily done in a bad way, but it is incredibly slow and honestly lost my attention a lot of the times. I'm also a bit surprised that Hela wasn't more resistant considering Jasy actually did kidnap Rodri and only promised to give him back if she cooperated. While again, the romantic moments were fairly cute, they aren't all that interesting to me and to be honest, I'd rather see the actual worldbuilding that the two go through rather than their relationship. Hela as a main character focuses mostly on her desire to run her tribe, and while she initially is fairly competent and active in the story, shooting a lot of Ao Ao's children, she ends up having to rely a lot of Jasy to save her, especially since she ends up losing her bow and arrow after a while. I actually straight up forgot that she could do archery at the end when Hela was forced by her aunt to kill Jasy, which is probably not a great sign. I don't think she's the worst MC in these stories because she does have a lot of interesting points to her, but it does feel like she was hamstringed after a bit, with a bunch of chapters after Hela dies and is revived pretty much being carried around by Jasy as she recuperates. She does have a fairly strong conviction of not only bringing back Rodri but her connection to her grandmother, as well as the development to allow herself to finally decide things for herself without having it taken away from him, but I still feel like she could have used a bit more agency in the story itself.

Jasy as a yandere doesn't actually start out as one so we actually see the kind of decent he gets into. He is a rather light yandere all things considered, but it is always fun to see them descend into yandere behavior nevertheless. Like I said before, Jasy and Hela have a bit of a tumultuous relationship at first with the two of them begrudgingly forced to help each other, while slowly learning to understand each other a bit more. Jasy doesn't understand why Hela would go so far to save Rodri and later the humans that are trapped but has to go along with her anyways since she's the key to him getting through the gate. By the time he does reach the gate, and Hela sacrifices herself, he starts to realize the error of his ways- while initially he viewed her as a tool to open the gate, he now starts to realize that he actually did care about her, and more deeply love her, even to the point of going to the realm of the dead to find her. He even so much is willing to loop over and over Hela's favorite childhood memories forever so as long as they are together. When Jasy does finally retrieve her, the two of them basically have a honeymoon together, where Jasy is extremely doting on her. We do see some of bits of jealousy earlier with Jasy, such as when one of the guys of offhandedly suggests that Hela is actually pretty attractive, but it doesn't really come to full fruition until after she dies. It's a bit hard to say right now exactly how far he'll go considering it feels like it's just the beginning of the yandere arc for Jasy, but it at least is a start. Not sure how far they'll ramp it up in the third and last season, if at all. Like I said though, it's still pretty light and it's very possible that it might stay that way, though with Rodri's reveal, it could also very well go on a darker path.

Overall, I was pretty surprised at the story, but I do have split opinions on it. The worldbuilding and the mythos of the monsters are really interesting and a definite unique take that I haven't personally seen as much before, but I find that the story and pacing for the characters are pretty tedious and dragging at times. Still, it's extremely beautiful and the story itself is something unique to experience if you are interested in such things.

[gloomwitchwrites]

By the Belt (2 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, undressing, talking through it, praise, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, cowgirl position

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Gaz tells you to take what you want.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

The light on the bedside table is on. Its warm glow rolls out across the bedroom, illuminating the room enough to cast long shadows against the wall.

Kyle stands just shy of the end of the bed, his black suit jacket tossed onto the sheets. Tugging on the tie at his neck, Kyle’s gaze is focused on the phone in his hand. He’s tapping away, his cheeks slightly flushed with a rosy hue from the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed this evening.

The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are open, revealing skin and the faintest fluff of chest hair. He sighs, tapping again, sending something out before opening up another message. It’s likely all work related, an aspect of him that never seems to shut off.

Slowly, you stalk from the bathroom doorway to Kyle in nothing but your lingerie. You’re already out of your dress and heels, only wanting for him to put his phone aside and relax. The moment you walk up to him, Kyle reaches out almost on instinct, his gaze still on his phone but his hand seeking you.

His palm makes contact with your bare skin, and you slide your fingers into the belt loops of his perfectly tailored dress pants. Pulling taut, you draw Kyle against you, bodies pressed close together.

Kyle’s gaze immediately shifts to you, the concern in the middle of his brow softening to affection. His mouth stretches into a smile that he only ever gives you.

“Baby girl,” he croons, the backs of his fingers tenderly skimming along the edge of your jaw. “You can have whatever you want.”

The two of you stand in the middle of the bedroom, pressed close, your hands between your bodies. It’s late, and the flow of traffic is almost non-existent. It’s unusually quiet, just your breath and his.

Kyle is the handsy one. He loves touching you, reaching for you at every possible moment. Sometimes it’s blatant, squeezing thigh and hip, while other times he is subtle with just passing touches.

“I want you,” you murmur, because it’s the truth, and you also want Kyle to relax, to be present in this moment. The entire evening has been a whirlwind.

Sometimes Kyle reaches for you and almost isn’t aware that he’s doing it. You are not nearly as generous or bold with your touches as he is, so sliding your fingers into the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer might come across as forward.

But Kyle doesn’t seem all that surprised. The sultry smile on his face is enough to send heat racing to the space between your legs.

“You want me,” he repeats back. Kyle doesn’t need to question your motives. His is aware of just how much you love him; of how much you like to just linger in his presence.

“I’ll always want you,” you murmur, tipping your head back as a silent invitation.

Kyle locks his phone and tosses it onto his suit jacket. “But how do you want me, love? Be specific. You can take what you want, but you need to tell me.” The fingers brushing at your jaw rotate, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Direct me,” he murmurs. How do you want it?”

The way he’s speaking to you doesn’t make the dominance in you flare. If anything, it drives you toward submission, to lay on your back and welcome him in until you feel him for the next few days.

Slowly, your fingers slide out of the loops, travel upward to undo the buttons on his shirt one at a time, revealing chiseled chest. Kyle does not move. He waits for you to help him out of it, to toss it onto the bed before transitioning to the front of his pants, undoing buckle, removing his belt, opening the front only to push it down his legs and hips. You stay down there, unlacing his dress shoes and rolling off his socks. They’re kicked off. Tosses to the side. Entirely forgotten as you return to standing.

The moment you’re staring into his face again, Kyle moves, sliding his arm around your waist, head dipping like he’s about to kiss you but pauses at the last second.

“Where do you want me?” he asks softly.

“On the bed.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Be specific.”

“Reclining,” you answer.

“That’s it, love.”

Kyle teasingly clips the underside of your chin before he picks up his phone and suit jacket, bringing them to the dresser and returning to the bed. He slides into the middle, leans back against the array of plush pillows, spreading his arms wide.

He is entirely naked. Completely bare. And Kyle hides nothing from your gaze. He is displaying himself, knowing that you’re absorbing it all, taking notice of the hardening length of him.

You crawl up the bed to straddle his lap. Kyle keeps his arms outstretched, not touching until you give him the next instruction. Your hands rest on his chest, pressing into him, lips coming together in a slow kiss.

“Touch me,” you murmur against his lips.

“How?”

You reach out and guide one of his hands between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Kyle lightly rubs his palm over your pussy through the fabric of your delicate lace underwear. He sighs deeply, one finger sliding underneath and then another before pushing it to the side.

He plays with you at first, exploring like he’s just now learning your body. Then, he isn’t. Then he is circling your clit in little swirls that draw up the gentle roar that sits low in your belly. Already, you need him, and Kyle knows this.

He moves away, testing to see how wet you are. Kyle moans softly when he finds your excitement dripping onto the tips of his fingers. One finger easily slides inside, and Kyle begins to pump casually, simulating sex, lightly curling the very tip to draw against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb takes up residence against your clit, moving in time with his pumping finger.

Your eyelids flutter, then shut as your back arches, moaning loudly.

“Is that what you want, love?” he murmurs, coaxing an answer from you with a perfectly placed stimulation of your clit.

“Yes,” you manage to breathe, the word stuttering out.

The orgasm is sharp and quick, giving you the release you need and yet driving your desire even higher.

Kyle slowly continues to pump his finger. “More?”

You shake your head. “I want something else.”

“What?” he asks, automatically.

Leaning back a bit, you reach behind you to grasp his cock, stroking him gently. Kyle groans, his hand not occupied between your legs reaching out to grasp your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

“You know what to do,” he says through gritted teeth.

With one hand around his cock to guide, you flex your hips up, slowly sinking down on him. You roll up, and then back down, hands returning to Kyle’s chest as you seat yourself entirely on him. The head of his cock sits deep, and your fingers dig into his chiseled pectorals.

Kyle’s eyelids and brow are soft as they gaze on you. Whimpering, you come up and go right back down, the angle hitting that sweet spot.

“Good,” he breathes. “Doing so well, love. Just like that.” You repeat the movement and Kyle fails to stifle a groan. “Fuck—oh, fuck. That’s right, sweetheart.”

His praise warms your skin and blood. Sliding your hands upward, you hold onto his shoulders, using them as leverage to rock and bounce back on him. Kyle’s breathing lengthens, nostrils flaring as he tries to retain control of himself. Kyle’s grip on your thigh changes. Moving closer toward your pelvis, Kyle finds your clit with his thumb, stroking it in just the way you need to, causing the muscles in your legs to quiver.

He sends you over the edge in moments.

“Kyle,” you groan, his name dripping from your lips to stain the air.

“Fucking hell, love,” he moans, his other hand sliding up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him.

“Fuck me, Kyle. Please. Please.” You need to feel him everywhere, to remember the stretch of him inside you for days after.

Kyle answers by meeting each roll of your hips with an upward thrust. The two of you come together repeatedly until his own thighs tense beneath.

“Inside me. Please, Kyle. Please. Please.”

You’re begging at this point, the words falling into bursts of air that Kyle pulls from your body with each thrust of his hips.

He holds you flush against him as his release hits him. No words are spoken, just sounds that speak to pure contentment and bliss. Collapsing against him, Kyle wraps his arms around your back, holding you close, sinking further into the pillows and bedding, your bodies sticky and sweaty.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria

[kookygranger]

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Steve Harrington falls for you a little harder every time he meets you. Now you're free to live your life and he's ready to make a move on the girl he thinks about every day.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut-ish (allusions to sex), secondary character death, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au

Word count: 2k

Author's note: This story is inspired by a trippy and vividly detailed dream I had, minus the lovechild because that's not my vibe but good for dream me I guess.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter One: When Under Ether

1979

The first time Steve Harrington saw you was on a brisk fall night. Brown leaves lifted in small whirlpools down the street as children’s laughter and sugar-induced screams permeated the air. It was Halloween.

Steve wanted to dress up as Robin Hood, his outfit complete with feathered cap and fox tail sitting on his navy-blue bedspread at home, but his friends thought trying was lame now – so he settled for a ripped shirt and a half-assed green face paint job. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to be a zombie or Frankenstein’s monster.

He’d done that a lot lately. Changed things about himself that others his age suddenly found uncool or only suitable behaviour for babies. He may not have known as much as the kids that sat up the front of class, but he knew one thing for sure, he didn’t want to be thought of as a baby.

Maybe that’s why he was stood in front of the rotting wooden gate that led up to the house at the end of Maple Street, so far away from the rest of the neighbours that it could only barely be counted. Unless it was to get its own street name entirely, which right now Steve felt like it could, as far away from safety as possible to his small legs.

See, the old Ravenwood house was only spoken about in whispers, its history revealed in rumours perpetuated by ghost story obsessed children for as long as anyone can even remember the house being occupied. And with its peeling paint, overgrown and weed-riddled front yard, and creaking front porch, it was a ripe opportunity for a young boy to prove that he was no scaredy cat on All Hallows’ Eve.

Steve walked up the sunken stone path with his two friends in tow. Tommy, the boy who’d suggested the dare earlier in the night brought up the rear of the small group, knobbly knees knocking together.

Steve was wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans when a flurry of bats, unnative to this part of the world, flew into their path, screeching only slightly higher than the two boys behind him who ran straight back through the front gate. His heart battered against his ribcage as he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath like his grandma had taught him to when he’d get mad or upset, and when he opened his eyes he saw you.

Watching curiously through the second-floor window, where you sat perched inside, a warm glow framing your small body. Steve thought you looked to be the same age as him, but he’d never seen you before. He smiled that charming Harrington grin he’d been told he possessed, then waved – you, more shyly returned the gesture. Then he’d heard his name called somewhere back beyond the threshold of this strange house, and he’d returned to his friends. Brushing off the ill attempt at machismo with talks of scoring candy.

When Steve’s head hit his pillow that night, veins pumping with sugar, he thought of you. He would never forget about the girl in the window. A beacon of light that dissolved his fears.

***

1986

The second time Steve saw you everything faded away into the background.

He’d been swapping occupational war stories with Robin at the bar in town, the one that didn’t refuse service based on age but based on your likeability according to the bartender. He’d made his way up to the bar through the lively post-work week crowd to order another round when he saw you. Through the far from sober bodies, tucked away on a barstool up against the wall, your hands playing with a sodden beer mat as your eyes wandered, people watching, Steve Harrington swore he saw the face of an angel.

Although time had changed you both, bodies growing up and through awkward stages, arms and chests filling out to be hugged now by the scratchy material of Steve’s striped polo and the soft cotton of your dress, your legs strong enough to bring a grown man to his knees (as far as Steve was concerned), the glint of a thin silver chain on the wrist that supported his big hands enough to capture the attention of almost all the girls in town – Steve had still known. It was you. By looks alone, you may have been a far cry from the little girl in the window, but he knew.

Inexplicably, for he could not cite the hairs on his toned arms raising at the sight of your eyes gazing back at his, or the warm, tight feeling in his chest he’d only ever felt once before as proper methods of identification. But your shy smile and hitched breathing as he drew near only confirmed it for him.

And before he knew it, his lips oh so close to yours, shining after his tongue had poked out to wet them were asking if you wanted to get out of there.

“Yes.”

Robin would later get more than her fair share of making up for his total abandonment of her without so much as a goodbye, but in that moment he couldn’t think of anything else but you.

How he could taste the bitterness of your perfume on your skin when he kissed your bare shoulder, how you sounded when he sucked on the skin under your ear and the vibrations you made together when he swallowed your moans, how you squeezed his hand that held yours beside your head laying on the pillow that wouldn’t be rid of your scent for a week after, and how you kissed him deeply after the seventh time he’d asked if you were still okay, if you still wanted this as much as he did.

When you left him, asleep with kissed lips parted in soft snores and hair mussed, the marks he’d left on your neck and thighs would serve you as a sweet reminder. The scent of sandalwood and vanilla followed you as you snuck back into your house through the back door, the quiet creak masked by the singing cicadas. Your uncle exactly where you'd left him, still sleeping off the extra spoonful of valerian extract and dried chamomile you’d steeped with his tea to buy yourself a little more time out there.

Where magic was forbidden. Where children threw cruel comments and the adults they’d overheard them from ushered them across the other side of the street. Out there where people would never be understanding of you, and boys who could trick you into giving up your power ran rampant.

You’d thought – hoped, dreamed – that maybe on your eighteenth birthday you could get a kiss. A moment of normalcy outside of your life stuck in this house but what you got was so much better.

What you got was imprinted on your skin with the lingering feeling of his lips.

***

1993

The third time you meet Steve, you breathe in your first taste of free air.

Steve had volunteered to take a ride with the EMT to transport a body to the morgue, on an otherwise slow shift at the firehouse. The only other one in town had called in sick and the nearest hospital was a town over.

When the bus turned down Maple Street, Steve immediately felt off. A sense of dread washed over him and only increased when the car continued off the main street and down the dirt road that led to the Ravenwood house. As the vehicle kicked up stones and a cloud of dust in its wake he’d been hit with a sudden wave of déjà vu, remembering dreams that felt as real as memories of walking up this path only to find himself back at the start over and over again.

When the bus finally came to a stop in the driveway Steve barrelled out, running up to the front door in a panic, his raised fist ready to knock it down before it abruptly opened. Exhaling quickly at the site of you, the sinking feeling in his stomach alleviated as he took you in for the first time in years.

You’re dressed for mourning. A soft black dress and scuffed boots, hair pulled back to reveal a bare face that Steve had the sudden urge to kiss.

“H-Hi.” He managed to stammer out a greeting as his colleague finally caught up to him, walking up the creaking steps to your front porch.

“He’s in the bedroom.” You held open the front door, moving aside to let them in. Voice small, smelling of lemon, cedarwood and white musk and Steve had to physically keep himself moving as he brushed past you.

Your uncle laid stiff on a double bed, on top of the covers and dressed in a tattered corduroy suit as if ready for viewing, his body now an empty vessel left only for a ceremonial send-off. A white handkerchief covered his face, a small bundle of dried cypress and sweet cicely perched on his forehead. A breeze from the open window across the room swayed the hem of your skirt as you stared at him.

Steve pointed to the handkerchief, asking you if they could move it but stopped his movements right away when you tensed. His colleague tells you it’ll have to come off during the autopsy and you fold, asking if it can at least go back on afterwards.

“Once we drop him off he’s out of our hands ma’am.”

“I’ll make sure it does,” Steve placates you and you offer him a small nod in thanks. He barely remembers to breathe.

You followed the stretcher out to the bus, a rumbling of thunder catching the two men’s gaze up to the sky when the back doors thud shut. The view was clear when they entered the house, no forecast for rain on this mild summer’s day. Now fat drops began to hit the ground with the rolling in of grey clouds. Steve looked down and noticed a small smile on your face.

You took a deep breath in with eyes softly shut. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” You took off down the front path, stopping at the front gate when Steve called after you, asking if you were sure as the rain only intensified.

You just turn and smile at him, waving with a fixed mind. “It’s cleansing.” Only to disappear into the tall grass fields across from your house in a blur of black. Walking away, a free woman.

The front door creaked closed, making Steve’s companion jump.

“Freaky.”

After that day Steve hears of regular sightings of the girl who grew up in that house. Gossip of blooming, bright lavender and bluebells, buzzing bees – life where there once was nothing but rot and death. A fixed white picket fence and carefully laid stone-path that led up to a now bright and welcoming looking house at the end of Maple Street. But this was still a small town and generational rumours took more than a fresh coat of paint to cover up. The witch who lived at the old Ravenwood house was still feared among small minds.

***

The fourth time Steve Harrington saw you he was dropping Robin’s overdue books off at the library on his way to work. Navy blue t-shirt hugging his biceps, tucked neatly into his uniform pants, the stomp of his steel-capped boots muffled by the scratchy charcoal carpet.

Robin had sent him in the hopes that he could get her late fees waived. He’d spritzed an extra spray of his cologne on before leaving their shared apartment, Harrington charm plastered on his face as he prepared to win over an elderly lady who was reminded of her husband when they first met. Only, the person behind the counter wasn’t wearing a blouse with a frilly collar or sporting a purple rinse quaff.

The person who greeted Steve was wearing a well-loved PJ Harvey shirt, with long braids running down her back, flashing a timid smile that ripped through his chest.

“Hi, Steve.”

End note: If you want dedicatedly researched, heart-wrenching witch core you should go read @storiesbyrhi's Eddie fic Burning Yarrow. I'd also recommend @rosewaterandivy's S.H. x witch!reader story, which is just blow me down gorgeous. Their words probably inspired the dream that inspired this story ✨

Thank you for reading! x

Steve edit by @/vasguett on pinterest

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER ELEVEN (see full series list here)

1993

You find yourself sitting in the Tower again. You dangle a string of wool in front of Dubh and she joyfully bats at it with her front paws. You smile lovingly at her, chuckling when she misses the wool and lands on your knee instead. The sky above you has darkened, and you look out over the grounds.

It's the best view in the castle, of course. You get to see the near-entirety of the grounds in all its glory. The Black Lake is still and calm; the tree' leaves are swaying lazily in the light evening breeze; the dark, scruffy dog is pattering across the grass...

You blink, and the dog is gone. You sigh, falling back to the floor and lying down, staring up at the sky above you.

Twinkling lights dot the sky above you, winking at you. Part of you likes to think that those stars have souls. That they can see you right now, and are wondering why you're admiring them so much. To them, they're just balls of gas. To you, they're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You think on the day, remembering your visit to Hagrid early this morning. The poor man was in bits, all torn up over Buckbeak. Hagrid doesn't deserve such stress and worry, and neither does Buckbeak.

A few clouds are scattered around, passing over the bright, full moon. Your mind turns to Remus: he is no doubt sitting in his office right now, all wolfish, probably having a hankering for red meat. You offered to stay with him on full moons, but he refused. Despite the Wolfsbane potion allowing him to keep his mind during the transformation, rendering him harmless, he stipulated that he wanted to be alone, just in case something went wrong.

You don't want him to be alone, but you respect his wishes anyway.

You've known Remus is a werewolf for a very long time. You weren't even meant to find out about Remus' lycanthropy, but you used to get so worried about him at school. He was always exhausted, always disappearing on full moons, not eating well...it had gotten to the point where you cornered him in the library and expressed your concerns for him. You asked him to tell you what was wrong because you couldn't watch any longer, worried that something bad was keeping him up at night.

And, well, you weren't wrong. But he confided in you, just like he had his other friends, and from then on you did everything you could to help him. While the boys spent full moons with him, you ensured he got enough rest during the remainder of the month, made him his favourite teas, helped with keeping his secret secure...he became like a brother to you.

Your school days are something you treasure immensely. Everything was just so right. When you and Sirius starting dating Christmas of your sixth year, everything clicked into place. It felt like you had another family at Hogwarts.

You and Sirius whispered to each other during late nights in the common room, and you would trace the outlines of his tattoos as you listened to him talk.

You, Lily, and Alice shared things together that you never could share with anyone else.

You and Remus played chess with each other and always forgot about using strategy, instead choosing to just try and annihilate as many of the other's pieces as possible.

You and James played Exploding Snap, which always ended with the ends of his hair singed and him sulking when he lost.

You helped Peter prepare himself for his first date, making sure he was mentally ready and feeling confident.

Life was much simpler.

The clouds part and the moon reveals itself, casting a glow around it. In the distance, you hear a wolf howling, and for a moment you think it's Remus, before you shake your head. He's in his office, probably sleeping it off right now.

Speaking of sleep, you feel extremely comfortable where you are right now. You let your eyelids drift shut and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You wake some time later, the cold air nipping at your arms. You sit up groggily, yawning. You nudge Dubh and she wakes, getting up to follow you out of the Tower. As you're opening the door to your room, you realise you left your wand up there and quickly run back up the stairs to grab it.

You locate the item on your desk, stuffing it into your pocket, momentarily getting distracted by a scuff mark on the desk, wondering how that got there.

There's a heavy thud from the other side of the room.

You look up.

Your heart stops.

There, at the railing, is Buckbeak, Hagrid's giant Hippogriff. And on his back is Harry, Hermione, and...Sirius. He hops down, facing you.

You lock eyes and your name rolls off his tongue softly, and never has it sounded so perfect.

He's wearing shabby Azkaban clothes, which are ripped and tattered everywhere. His skin is dirty and his face is sunken with dark bags under his eyes. He's grown a beard and his hair has gotten even longer, but has become matted.

"Sirius?" you choke, frozen in place. "Are you really there?"

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

You take a tentative step forward, unsure really whether you are dreaming or not. The rational part of your brain is telling you to stop, to run in the other direction — this is a convict in front of you, after all!

But your heart makes all the decisions for you. It reaches out, desperately trying to get to its other half because truly, you were half a heart without him.

Your steps are slow and it feels like hours have passed before you finally stop in front of him. You hesitantly reach out, placing your hand against his chest.

"Please, tell me I'm not dreaming," you whisper.

Sirius brings his hand up to cover yours, moving it to press over where his heart is, where you can feel his racing heart beat. You can see a scar on his pinky finger, one he told you he got during a game of 'Pin the Tail on Kreacher' with Regulus when he was eight.

You feel tears prick your eyes, looking back into the face of the man you love more than anything in the world. You bring shaky hands up to his face, holding it delicately, like you're afraid he's going to break.

"I missed you," you say softly. "I missed you so much, Sirius."

"I missed you too," he replies. "How is it that you look just as beautiful today as you looked on our wedding day?"

You give a watery chuckle, sniffling. "Sirius Black, forever the flirt."

You lean forward and press your lips against his. This, this feeling. The overwhelming sense of feeling right where you belong, in the arms of the man you love. His lips are chapped but you don't care. His skin is rough but you don't care. His beard scratches against you but you don't care. You don't care about anything other than the fact that he's here with you. He's finally here.

"Please, darling..." he starts, taking a deep breath and gazing at you. "It wasn't me. I promise you with everything I have to give that I didn't kill those people, I was never a Death Eater — "

"I know."

" — I would never do that to James and Lily — "

"I know."

He pauses, looking at you in surprise. "You know?"

"I know, Siri," you say gently. "I believe you, I trust you. I know you. I've spent the last twelve years of my life believing you're innocent. I know you would never do that."

He opens his mouth to say something but can't seem to find the words. "You — you smart girl. My smart girl. My perfect, smart, beautiful girl..."

His eyes are brimming with tears as he keeps them fixed on you, before he pulls you into his chest and holds you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you. I love you. I love you so much," he says, kissing your cheek. "Going so long without you has been torture."

"It's been torture for me too," you reply. "I love you. I love you more than anything, Sirius." You smile at him before adding, "And you have seriously got to take a shower. Why don't you come down to my room and get all cleaned up?"

Sirius pulls away, giving you an uncertain look and you sigh. He glances back at Harry and Hermione, who you've pretty much forgotten are even there.

"We...don't have a lot of time left," Hermione says apologetically.

"I'm sorry, my love," Sirius says, pressing his forehead against yours. "I have to go."

You clutch onto his arms desperately, shaking your head. "No, no. You — you can't go. You can't leave me again, Sirius. No, please. Please. Please don't do this to me again. Why leave when I've just found you again?"

Tears stream down your face and Sirius reaches out to brush them away with his thumb. "I have to, darling. The Ministry'll be here any moment now, looking for me. I can't put you in danger like that."

"I'll come with you!" You try. "Please, we can go away together — we'll figure something out, just please, don't leave me again. I've been without you for too long, please — "

"I can't do that to you," he says weakly. "You have to stay."

"Sirius, please — "

"Stay," he says, kissing your forehead. "I'll find you again. I will always find my way back to you, no matter how far."

You let out a quiet sob and kiss him again, desperate for even the slightest bit of contact with him to remind you that you actually have him here with you.

"Please, darling. Stay here," he tells you firmly. "You'll be okay."

"I just — I've been waiting for this for too long," you say weakly. "I hoped I'd have you for longer."

He brings you hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lovingly. "I know, I know. We'll meet again and then — it'll be like I never left."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He lets go of you, and it takes all of your willpower not to grab ahold of him again and never let go. Harry and Hermione jump off of Buckbeak, looking at each other awkwardly.

Sirius pulls Harry in for a hug, smiling proudly at him. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry."

Hermione looks at her watch nervously. "Quick, quick, you don't have time!"

Sirius takes one last glance back at you as he climbs up onto Buckbeak's back. He sends a wink your way and you shake your head amusedly, sighing.

He squeezes Buckbeak's sides with his heels. The enormous wings of the Hippogriff rise and you step back slightly, watching as it takes off into the air. Sirius and Buckbeak steadily become smaller and smaller until a cloud drifts past and...they're gone.

You swallow hard, sniffling as you brush tears off your cheeks. Before they can leave, you grab Harry and Hermione and pull them both in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you both so much," you say. "You — you are the most wonderful children I have ever met — you brought him back to me, how did you ever do it? How can I ever thank you?"

"It's nothing, really — " Harry says sheepishly.

"Nothing? You have both just given me the best gift in the world," you say with a smile. Hermione is looking at her watch again and you let go. "Go, go on. You look like you have somewhere to be."

Hermione nods, grabbing Harry's arm and they turn to run down the stairs.

"Oh, and Harry!" You call after him. He stops for a second and you give him a smile. "Come find me when you have some free time. I'm sure you have a few questions to ask."

He nods affirmatively and they run off again.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"YOU!" Snape bursts into the Astronomy Tower, looking outraged. "You — what did you do?!"

You look up innocently from your desk, watching as Snape climbs to the top of the stairs, red-faced and angry. He's out of breath — you don't know if it's because he's angry or because walking up those stairs is about the most exercise he's gotten in a decade.

Behind him, comes Fudge and Dumbledore. Fudge is huffing and puffing, and when he reaches the top he lays a hand against the wall as he breathes in and out.

"You — you did something!" Snape snaps. "How else could he have escaped?"

"How else could who have escaped?"

"BLACK!"

"Well, I'd have a hard time getting him out of Azkaban, wouldn't I?"

Snape looks like he's about to burst. A vein is popping out in his neck and his eyes are bulging.

"HE — WAS — CAUGHT — AND — NOW — HE'S — GONE — "

"Wait, he was caught?" You ask, feigning oblivion.

Fudge nods. "Yes, we had caught him perfectly well...the Dementors were going to perform the Kiss — "

You slam your book down on the table, standing up from your chair, staring Fudge down. "Do you mean to say that the Dementors' Kiss was going to performed on my husband without my knowledge?"

Fudge visibly swallows, glancing at Dumbledore helplessly, who chooses to become fixated on one of the constellations on the wall.

"Well, er...we reviewed our options and seen that — um — we didn't have the time to inform you — "

"Bullshit," you spit. "You could have easily told me, you just weren't bothered, were you? Some Minister you are."

Fudge splutters, face going red.

Snape is still shaking with fury beside him. He jabs his finger in your direction. "YOU DID IT, I KNOW YOU DID — "

"That is enough, Severus. Why, the portrait of Eloria Floria in the corridor told us that she had not left the Tower since she first entered it three hours ago," Dumbledore says calmly.

Fudge glances at his watch. "Well, I suppose there is nothing more to it than that. I'd better go and notify the Ministry of this..."

Snape is seething. Absolutely seething. He gives one fuming look in your direction, before storming down the stairs once more. It's nearly comical because it's purely silent in the Tower but for the clunking of Snape's footfalls against the stairs, his anger evident in his heavy stomps.

It reminds you of a young child throwing a tantrum.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twelve here!

sorry for the shortish chapter but I just really wanted to get this one out. They've finally reunited!!!

+ a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their support and kindness:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @carpe000diem @hyperspeedo

[weeniebagel]

Wanna get into fighting games? Can't really afford 'em? No problem.

I've seen a recent increase in the genre's popularity on Tumblr thanks to Guilty Gear: Strive (namely Bridget's reveal), but I've seen folks show concern for the genre's cost. While Strive may be outside of folks price range, that doesn't mean there aren't free or cheap entry points to the genre. (Every game listed below is easy to run on low end PC's, so don't worry if you're playing on a potato. Just remember to use an ethernet cable for the best possible connection!)

Melty Blood: Actress Again Current Code (MBAACC) has a unique reputation for its underground scene and playerbase, as well as its dynamic roster of 31 characters (each with 3 distinct versions, producing an effective roster of 93 characters). It's fast paced and has a simple control scheme and plays fairly similarly to the latest entry in the series, Melty Blood: Type Lumina. The best part is that it's absolutely free with rollback netcode thanks to efforts of the fanbase in the making of community edition. It's also where Neco Arc was first made playable, so if you find posts about her amusing, you can play her for 15 minutes and then move onto a real character.

If you're not as interested in something less "anime" and want to try old arcade classics, then I can't recommend Fightcade more. Arcade emulator that lets you play online with anyone in the world with a solid connection thanks to rollback netcode. Classics such as Street Fighter III: Third Strike, King of Fighters '98, Vampire Savior: The Lord of Vampire (Darkstalkers 3, in the US), and many, many more are all available. Hell, you can even play non fighting games such as Metal Slug on it, too! Of course, it's just an emulator, so you'll have to acquire roms yourself somehow, but that's a legally gray area. Fightcade does not give you any roms, so it's legal. Sure would be convenient if there was some sort of extension that automatically grabbed game roms for you the instant you joined a fightcade lobby, though.

If you're willing to drop a few bucks, then Steam isn't devoid of any good deals. Guilty Gear XX Accent Core +R (colloquially known as +R) is often on sale for just $3, and is a beloved entry in the Gear franchise. It's the game where Strive favorites Bridget, Testament, and Anji were last playable in, and maintain their original toolkits and playstyles. Not only that, but the game has some absolutely fantastic rollback netcode now! While it may be daunting at first, you'll find that most characters simplest bread and butter combos are easy and consistent. Low floor, high ceiling type of game.

Another game often available for cheap on Steam with great netcode is The King of Fighters 2002 UM. KOF is a very popular series in Latin America and East Asia, but never really exploded in the US. Recent series entry KOFXV has made an impact, and it plays like many previous entries. '02 UM has a large roster of fantastic characters to build a team around. Pick 3 of your favorites and jump right in!

A game you may already have (and not even know you do) Is Skullgirls. The game's often dirt cheap during sales, and has been included in more Humble Bundle's than any other game in the genre. Flexible, easy to learn systems, combined with a lovable roster of distinct characters gives you one of the best indie games ever made (and, personally, the best American made fighting game). Plus, after nearly a decade, the game is getting new characters again! There's never been a better time to start playing Skullgirls.

Ultimately, the best game to play to get into the genre is the game you want to play in the first place. If you want to get into Strive, there's no better game to play than Strive. Same with any Street Fighter, Skullgirls, Melty Blood, etc. Don't let the high level players scare you, there's always going to be fellow new bloods to play against. Check your game's wiki to find relative socials such as a community Discord, many of which have focused beginner tournaments and play nights to meet new people around your skill level. Don't be afraid to ask questions! You'll get answers and feedback from more experienced and friendly players.

Also, small note, use whatever controller you're most comfortable with. Keyboard and gamepad are perfectly fine. You don't need to buy a $200+ fightstick. While they can be fun, they're an investment often not worth making. Many of high level players such as SonicFox use a gamepad exclusively for every game they play. Go do you.

[regulusrules]

Hi! Okay so you seem like a very well-read person and I’d love to know if you have a list of your favorite Merlin fics. I just bookmarked all the ones you recommended in relation to the 10 best episodes and now I need more! I’m going on a training camp and would love to have something fairly long to download to my kindle so I can read on flights and when I don’t have data 🥰

Thanks so much in advance!

(Also, I LOVE your writing, I’m so glad to be part of this fandom with talented people like you!)

Hey! Thank you so much for your kind words! OF COURSEE I'd love to recommend you some fics! Likewise— the creativity of this fandom never ceases to amaze me :)

*cracks knuckles and pretends my eyes aren't lighting up rn because my time has finally come*

Long fic recs (50K-100K+)

1. to the world that never let you be by ImperialMint. Look. I'll hand out my own throat so willingly to any scar reveal fic. The trope is just so dear to my heart, and this one in particular was something else. It broadly covered every single feeling you might be looking for in a Merlin fic, and its characterization of both Arthur and Merlin was top tier. I basically sell my soul to any fic that does justice to their characterization, and this one did so much more than that.

2. What I'd Have Done by @flight-of-fantasy. I solemnly swear you will never read something like this fic. I read it in one day from how on edge I was all the time. I had to recount it to my friends in the timespan of three hours because of how much screaming and dramatic pauses there was. Simply, the brilliance of plot here is unmatched. Arthur's characterization as a strategist shook my innards, and Merlin's unapologetic nature was chef's kiss. It's so hard not to give away the plot while recommending this so just.. just read it.

3. Redemption by flakedice, Zerda. Soon, you will find a parallel post to the best 10 episodes with the worst 10, featuring first and foremost The Disir. Honest to God, I could literally go on ages ranting about how much agony this episode brought me. It was the blow that awoke my eyes to the possibility of fuck, this show isn't going to end well. I once thought about shitting on that episode like I did with 5×13 in My heart is readily yours, but fics like these hold me back because they already gave us everything. It gave us the ending we deserved. Gold. Everything in this was gold. The world building, the character development, the fact that Arthur has been given time. Truly a fix-it that fix-ed my heart.

4. Talking about deviations from The Fucking Disir, The World I Built for You by Fulgance is a must. It was the first fic I've read from the How They Didn't Find Out (magic reveal one-shots) series, and from then on I was * s o l d *. Whichever fic you decide to read from this, I guarantee you, you will have the time of your life. Fulgance is the one author I will always recommend without a shadow of a doubt. There is not a single work of theirs that will disappoint you. They will only break you.

5. Deep In My Heart I'm Concealing by @citharaposts. True story about this fic, I squealed when I read its summary. “I'm not standing here as a king, Merlin!” was the quickest catalyst to ever make me start a fic. I specifically wrote a spoiler-free comment for the author and left it in the first chapter so that anyone who's thinking about whether or not to go into yet another 100K fic will rest assured that it's an amazing ride. Have real fun with this one.

6. It Was One Kingdom, Once by queerofthedagger. Two things, if they happen, you leave everything behind and go thank your God for blessing you with it: @queerofthedagger posting a new Merlin fic, and it being a Royal Hanahaki AU. Like so many other tropes the author has nailed, this was the best Hanahaki I've ever read (across fandoms). It's so intricate and detailed and the world building is on another level. If our world was burning and I had only one thing to save, it'll be the works of this author.

Hope I helped, and hope you have so much fun in your camp!◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕

[Short fic recs]

[karniss-bg3]

Hello again. ) I'm still thinking about the dancing drider. Let's imagine that during another walk through the shadows, Kar'niss found a group of dead people. One of them had a gramophone - the technology of big cities. And a bag of records. Kar'niss takes the find with him and one day, when no one bothers him, he figures out how it works. He listens to music and remembers that he was once trained to dance and did it well. Now he is trying to repeat those movements again… And someone who likes him is surreptitiously watching him. What happens then? I hope it is an interesting idea) Thank you.

[Link to AO3 Mirror]

Another day, another patrol through the Shadowlands. Kar’niss was alone this day and at times he preferred it as such, allowing him moments where he could converse with his Queen uninterrupted. Rarely did the voices answer back which allowed him to prattle on about everything and nothing as his leisure. The drider marched through the darkness with moon lantern in hand only coming to pause when he noticed something strange on the road ahead. He approached to investigate coming to discover a fallen convoy of travelers who were likely unprepared for the horrors of these cursed lands. Bodies were strewn over the road alongside an overturned cart, the beast who had been pulling it long gone.

The drider skittered over to closely examine the carnage, lifting his lantern to better shed light on the situation. The bodies were in various states of ruin, cut up and slashed either by knife or by claw. The damage was too great to discern either possibility but one thing Kar’niss knew for certain was that they were dead. He grabbed the corpse of a gnome male by the collar to hoist them up and sniff in their direction. His nose crinkled with disappointment able to tell that their blood had long gone cold and wasn’t suitable for feasting. He’d snort while he casually tossed the cadaver aside letting it land where it would. He was prepared to abandon the grizzly but common sight and continue on his way. That is until he caught sight of something glimmering in his peripheral. He’d crane his head to peer down at a pile of abandoned items strewn across the dead earth until he spied a partially open box.

He reached out to push the lid open the rest of the way revealing a bizarre device tucked away within. A wide, brass funnel protruded from the top of the object, wide and rounded at the mouth. It was attached to a rosewood box with intricate gold symbols woven into the wood grain on all sides. He assumed it to be in a language he did not know. A round turn table sat at it’s center with a peculiar metal arm hovering inches from its surface, a narrow needle fastened to the arms end. Tucked in a separate bag were a series of black discs, all with little holes bored into their centers.

“What is this, Majesty?” Kar’niss said.

The drider leaned over to peer into the dark funnel to see if something was hidden inside. Perhaps this was an oddly shaped home for a fey creature like the one trapped in his lantern? He’d lower the light source down and speak directly to the entity within, a pixie known as Dolly Thrice.

“Little nuisance, what do you know of this strange item?” Kar’niss lowered the lantern closer to it so the fey inside might shed some insight.

“So the reject wants answers? This box is not for you, it’s for dancers,” said the small voice within.

Kar’niss squinted at the reply. “Dancers? What cryptic non-sense. Speak plain!”

“I can show you if you set me free. If you deny my wish then you can blow me!”

Kar’niss reared his head back and grit his teeth, an audible growl bubbling from his throat. “We will figure it out ourselves! Majesty will guide us, yes...yes She knows what to do.”

“Ha! A drider with a brain? A notion that is beyond insane. Do not come crying to Dolly Thrice when Ketheric puts your head in a vice. Amused I will be by golly bearing witness to your folly.”

His upper lip curled into an unimpressed sneer. Tempted as he was to toss the moon lantern away he also knew this was a gift from his Queen, his everything. He believed the pixie was there to test his loyalty and test him she did.

Kar’niss collected the box and bag with the black discs juggling them in one arm while the other kept hold of the lantern to light the way. He returned to Moonrise tower, a few guards seen patrolling the outer perimeter.

“The spider freak has returned,” said one guard.

“Hard to even look at,” replied another.

Kar’niss ignored their chiding, they were the Absolute’s chosen after all. He was accustomed to the snide remarks and filthy looks but it didn’t matter. He was safe in the knowledge that his Queen saw something worthy in him, the opinions of others held no weight by comparison. Kar’niss climbed up the interior walls and squeezed through holes in the ceiling, spiriting himself away to one of the more secluded locations to play with his new toy. He squeezed himself into an abandoned room, the area covered in a thin layer of dust and the air thick with the smell of mothballs and age. He’d clear off a small table where he placed the device, setting his lantern aside.

“Hrm.” Kar’niss lowered himself to inspect the device and the discs that came with it. He picked up one of the records and examined it, peeking through the hole at it’s center. He’d then bite into it as if it were a thin sandwich, his expression immediately turning sour from the unfavorable taste. He’d stick his tongue out and shake his head with disgust before placing the disc down onto the table.

“Of course a mindless beast would think it’s edible. Are you sure your intelligence is credible?” Dolly Thrice chided from within her glass prison.

“Shut up!” Kar’niss snarled, his legs clicking at the ground in aggravation. He sucked in a shaken breath as his hand rubbed along the back of his neck, his pedipalps trembling against his torso. “We are smart, we can figure it out.”

While he was put off by the nosy pixie close by he was determined to unlock the secrets of the item one way or another. His gaze caught sight of the golden crank attached to the side of the box. He recognized similar mechanisms on music boxes or gate lifts. His clawed hands grabbed the handle and turned the arm slowly winding it up. When he released the arm he noticed it began to turn on it’s own and so did the circular table at the center of the box. He bit his lower lip as the cogs in his mind whirled with thought trying to put pieces together. He retrieved another record and turned it over in his hands, his eyes darting from the disc to the turn table taking note that both were roughly the same size. That and there was a protruding piece of metal at the center of the turn table that looked to fit the hole in the disc.

“Is this right, my Queen? Yes, we think it must be.”

He placed the record down onto the protruding nub which secured it in place. Sure enough it began to spin in place, powered by the mechanisms within. Kar’niss’ lips curled into a self-satisfied smile, his chest puffing out to signify pride in his discovery. The celebration was short lived, morphing into renewed confusion. What purpose did a spinning disc serve? He scratched his head and eyeballed every part of the gadget until he rediscovered the arm. It hovered above the record as if waiting to make contact, itching to be united. With some hesitation he applied pressure to the lever until the needle beneath made contact. At first all he could hear was strange popping sound coming from the brass cone on top which made his head tip curiously.

“I do not understand,” Kar’niss said.

Before the drider could check to make sure he did it right the loud boom of music erupted from the cone. The unexpected noise put Kar’niss in a panic, the drider quick to back away against a nearby wall and lift up his front legs into a defensive stance which exposed his underbelly, the back four remaining firmly planted on the ground. His heart pounded in his chest, his hand clinging to the hilt of his sword over his shoulder, all of his eyes wide and on alert. His reaction caused Dolly Thrice to howl with laughter within her cage, finding the entire thing ridiculous. The music continued to play a calming waltz melody, a tune that echoed throughout the room he was in. After his breathing grew steady he’d lower his front legs and frown, maintaining distance but curious all the same.

[Music]

“What sort of magic is this?” Kar’niss asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“The drider does not know? My, he really is slow,” Dolly Thrice chirped. “Four bards offended a wizard most cruel and he would not be made a fool. A choice he did give if the musicians wished to live. Be shrunk down and forever enslaved to the box or curse their loved ones with the deadly pox? To spare the ones they cherished so they promised to put on a show. In this wooden prison they must stay, performing for their master night and day!”

Kar’niss squinted when she offered the sorrowful explanation. He carefully approached the gramophone and looked it up and down, his gaze scrutinizing. “There are...people in here?” Kar’niss tapped the side of the device with a claw, expecting to hear cries for help or some other response by doing so. Of course nothing of the sort happened and it only increased his confusion further. He didn’t understand that the pixie was having fun at his expense.

Now that the initial shock had passed it gave Kar’niss a moment to focus on the song being played. While it wasn’t a melody he was accustomed to it did remind him of days gone by. He was often tasked to dance for the Matrons at feasts and other ceremonious events. The women admired him for his beauty and how well he moved, a man that had more grace than any would assume now. His body began to sway without him realizing it, those long legs swinging on their joints to carry his over-sized body this way and that. He didn’t understand why it mesmerized him so but the song did well to drown out the voices in his mind which were always vying for his attention. This was a rare moment of focus for him and it did well to relax the normally alert creature.

The music had filtered out into the hallway, catching the attention of Tav who was walking by. It was unusual to hear music in the tower, especially such a robust theme most were incapable of playing. They approached the door and gently turned the handle, pushing the door open a crack to peek inside. To their surprise they saw Kar’niss swaying to the beat, his eyes locked on the peculiar device where the sound came from. They watched while Kar’niss surrendered his body to the music, his movements growing more animated the higher his confidence climbed. Tav kept themselves hidden from view, unable to resist watching the rare performance.

Kar’niss lifted his arms above his head and curled his hips in time with the way of his body, his front two legs tapping the ground in time to the beat while the rest remained planted in place. His pedipalps lifted one at a time, curling outward one after the other as if they were walking on air. The bulky arachnid abdomen wiggled side to side, the muscles on his torso tensing beneath the chitin armor while putting them to use. His legs carried him into motion, stepping forward then back time and time again, even bold enough to turn his entire body in place. His arms swayed in an arc from his chest then back in. Tav smiled to themselves, feeling a sense of relief that perhaps Kar’niss wasn’t as lost as previously assumed. It gave them hope and encouraged them not to give up on him just yet. One would be forgiven for thinking Kar’niss was under the effect of a charm spell, lost in the rare moment of self-indulgent joy.

Such distractions would prove to be Kar’niss’ undoing. Lost as he was to the tune he didn’t pay mind to his surroundings, nor the many obstacles in his path. Upon spinning around for the second time one of his legs slipped into the open slot at the back of a wooden chair, catching him mid-step. Now tangled and in the process of circular momentum he didn’t have time to stop himself. His legs curled and staggered, the room turning upside down as the drider crashed onto his side, the chair splintering apart beneath the full bulk of his body. Kar’niss cried out from both fear and a bit of pain, the shards of wood cutting into him and his leg twisted in a way that was uncomfortable. Thankfully it did not break. Tav gasped at the sight and pushed into the room even though it revealed they had been spying on him.

“Kar’niss, are you alright?!” Tav rushed to his side and hurriedly yanked what wood pieces they could from beneath him.

Dolly Thrice squealed with laughter at the sight of the poor drider. “Eight legs better than two? Not when it comes to you!”

Tav shot the lantern a dirty glare. “It’s not funny, Dolly. Leave him be.”

Kar’niss hissed in pain and embarrassment, his legs kicking out in an effort to right himself. “Don’t touch us! Go away, GO AWAY!” Kar’niss roared as he pushed Tav off, barely managing to get himself upright.

Tav backed off and held up their hands in a defensive manner. “It’s alright, Kar’niss. I’m just trying to help you. It was an accident, that’s all.”

The drider limped toward a corner and clumsily climbed the wall, his back leg still sore but intact. He’d retreat to the dark spot and curl in on himself, not wanting to be seen by anyone. Tav frowned, glancing over their shoulder at the device just as the song came to an end. They approached and looked at it quietly, not wanting to leave Kar’niss alone even if he argued otherwise. Tav was ready to reach out and touch the equipment until the drider interjected from his corner.

“No! The bards are sleeping now,” he grumbled.

Tav’s brow lofted. “Bards?”

Kar’niss inched forward until his face was partially exposed by the dim light in the room. “The little nuisance told us of the bards inside the box.”

Tav squinted and exhaled a deep, exhausted breath. “Did she?” They wandered over and picked up the moon lantern, speaking directly to its host. “You shouldn’t tease Kar’niss like that, much less fill his head with non-sense.”

“Easy for the tall one to say. They don’t have to sit in this lantern all day."

“I know. But he is just as much a victim as you. Give me time, I’ll work it out.” Tav placed the torch back in its corner and turned to approach the humiliated drider glued to the wall. “Everything is alright. Please come down.”

Kar’niss shook his head and retreated back into his corner. “No.”

Tav hummed and planted their hands on their hips taking a moment to contemplate. They’d turn and began clearing a space in the room, pushing furniture aside and any other obstacles that likely didn’t favor spider legs. They clapped dust free from their hands once finished, returning to Kar’niss who kept a curious eye on things.

“There, plenty of space for you now.” Tav extended a hand in his direction, fingers outstretched. “If you come down I’ll even tell you what the device really is.”

He eyeballed the hand reaching for him, his hair dangling freely over his shoulder. After he thought the offer through he crept forward and clapped his hand into Tav’s own. The adventurer walked backward to lead Kar’niss down off the wall and back onto solid ground, smiling at him.

“What is it?” Kar’niss asked. Tav let go of his hand and returned to the location of the player. “It’s called a gramophone. It’s a relatively new invention and one only nobles can really afford at the minute. These discs are called records because they record sound or voices which the gramophone can play back. The song you were listening to is referred to as a waltz.”

“Wah-ults?” Kar’niss cocked his head to one side, the sound of the word on his tongue strange to him.

“Waltz, yes. It’s a kind of dance mostly popular in noble circles, although it is gaining traction across the classes. I can show you if you’d like,” Tav said.

The drider shook his head and shrank visibly. “N-No, we are too clumsy.”

“I don’t think you are, not at all. You were doing really well before you got into a fight with the chair. Now that there is space you should be fine. It’s a fairly simple dance to do.” Tav approached the gramophone and moved the needle back to the beginning of the record. They wound up the crank until it could budge no further, letting it go so the music kicked back in. They’d return to Kar’niss who was wound tighter than a spring, terrified of making another mistake especially in front of Tav. But they were not as worried, taking his hand into their own. “Now you place your hand on my hip, like this. One of my hands goes on your shoulder and the other takes your hand into mine.” Tav did exactly as instructed, stepping in closer so their hips rested between his pedipalps.

Kar’niss’ breath hitched in his throat with how close they were, closer than he was used to being with anyone who didn’t become a meal. His rounded abdomen trembled with nerves and his palms sweat, far more vulnerable than he cared to be. He trusted Tav more than he was willing to admit and he was interested in this dance they spoke of. The least he could do was give it a chance. Tav nodded and waited for the proper beat to step to the side, leading Kar’niss at first so he could get used to the rhythm.

“One, two, three. One, two, three,” Tav counted off.

Kar’niss followed along, stumbling at first as the movements were tricky with this body. Tav counting along with the steps did aid him in following, the pair dancing together from one side of the room to the next. They spun around together, the sound of Tav’s footsteps mingled with the steady clicking of Kar’niss’ pointed legs. He kept his body lowered enough to where Tav didn’t strain maintaining their hold, the pair soon finding a rhythm that worked for them both. The more he shook off his nerves the more he realized he was having fun, a concept foreign to him. He watched Tav who was smiling back at him, the duo gliding across the floor as if it were a ballroom and they were center stage. Kar’niss’ steps were wide but carefully taken while Tav kept their movements short and easy to follow. Once they were certain he had a grasp on the dance moves Tav leaned back, releasing his shoulder and maintaining the grasp on his hand, in order to spin around in place and return to their former position. Kar’niss’ eyes went wide with some surprise at how fluid the movement was, impressed.

Tav leaned in and rested their head against his shoulder, nestling their face against his neck. The drider felt a swelling in his chest, blood rushing to his face which caused a rosy hue to blossom over the normally pale surface. The hand planted on Tav’s waist opted to wander, his palm sliding around the small of their back so his arm could tug them in closer, securing them against his body. His pedipalps followed suit, fastening around the curve of their backside to hold tight. In that single moment of bliss the pair left Moonrise and the Shadow curse behind. No one else existed save for themselves, locked in a romantic embrace where they might savor the company of one another. This was their time, their moment, it belonged to no one else.

Like all good things this, too, was fated to end. The melody began to slow down, reaching its final notes to signify the finale. The duo slowed their movements to match and soon came to a stop, silence falling over the darkened room they stood in. Tav leaned back and looked into Kar’niss’ eyes, a gaze that was returned in kind by the drider. They reached up to caress the side of his face with their fingertips, feeling over the scars and the uneven surface of the chitin lining his jaw. Both felt the tension rising between them, the normally reclusive drider finding the courage to lean in closer to Tav, bridging the gap between their lips. Tav’s eyes fluttered shut, their trembled lips growing painfully close to touching.

“Dolly Dolly Dolly wishes they would stop. I cannot bear to watch this slop!” Dolly Thrice called out from her cage. “If unholy sins you want to commit at least first toss this pixie into a pit.”

Kar’niss jolted from the sudden lecture, jerking away from Tav with a frown etched on his face. Tav winced and side eyed the moon lantern. They knew Kar’niss valued the damn thing but frankly they were coming to terms with the idea of making it disappear, permanently.

“Thanks Dolly. You always know how to enhance a mood,” Tav sighed.

The drider wrinkled his nose and released Tav from his grip, his legs shifting beneath him with anxious energy. “It is alright, we have wasted too much time here. Majesty calls, we must fulfill Her bidding.” He stepped away from Tav and retrieved the annoying but useful lantern, skittering toward a hole in the ceiling so he might retreat to the top of the tower. Tav looked on and crossed their arms, disappointed that he was departing but they also knew better than to push their luck. “As you wish. Perhaps...we might do this again sometime.”

Kar’niss paused at the opening, taking a moment to glance over his shoulder at his companion. “Perhaps.” He pressed his lips together and tipped his chin up. “Thank you for teaching us this...wall-utz.” From there he squeezed his way through the opening and disappeared from sight.

Tav stood back, reaching out apply a glancing touch to the side of the gramophone. They smiled and leaned back against the table.

“You’re welcome, Kar’niss.”

[lendeah]

UNBOUND

Chapter 3: memories, premonitions

series masterlist

Summary: Neri continues to face the complexities of her combined spell, prompting her to once again seek assistance from Gale. In the process, her mentor opens up about the grim reality of his condition, revealing that their time together may be more constrained than Neri had anticipated.

Pairing: Gale x OFC!Reader

Tags: Slow Burn, Mentor/Protégé, but everything is healthy I promise, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Gale (Baldur's Gate), Gale Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Professor Gale (Baldur's Gate)

Word count: 5.9k

AO3 LINK

Oof this one was long. Anyway, it's not proofread so it may contain mistakes! I will try to revise as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy :)

The darkness was all encompassing, the threads of magic tugging at her from every direction. The air was thick with bursts of energy, swirling and dancing around her like moths drawn to a flame. Her concentration remained fixed on one singular object in her mind, its form and power consuming her thoughts. She could feel its pull, its call to her own magical abilities. With determination and focus, she reached out and whispered the incantation, "Quaerere obiectum cum porta" as she gestured with her hands the different symbols.

As Neri opened her eyes, the room was silent. She could sense the powerful flow of her weave energy as it manifested in front of her. A dimensional door had materialized, pulsing with vibrant purple hues. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Neri stepped forward and placed all her faith in this creation of hers. The feeling of being transported through dimensions was disorienting and nauseating, but soon enough she landed on solid ground once again.

She looked around at her new surroundings, taking in the empty tabern with its wooden furnishings and dimly lit lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The only source of noise came from a gnome bartender who was wiping down glasses behind the counter, and two other patrons - an orc and a human woman - sitting at opposite ends of the room. The three of them were looking at her with shocked expressions, their jaws dropped in disbelief.

"By Odin's beard, 'tis high time I lay off the ale," the orc muttered, breaking the silence.

Neri couldn't help but grimace. "My apologies," she said, feeling embarrassed. "It seems like I ended up in the wrong place."

After a small curtsy, she retreated back into the swirling portal and landed with a thump on her bedroom floor once more. Letting out a sigh, she began the process of closing yet another unsuccessful interdimensional door.

"Where was it this time? A Duke's mansion? The middle of the sea? The astral plane, maybe?"

Eiruk's voice interrupted her thoughts. Neri looked up to see him sitting on her bed, tossing the small planet-shaped crystal between his hands.

With a grunt, she brushed off her robes and grumbled "A tabern."

The boy's laughter resembled that of a hyena's as he responded,

"Wait, really?! That's hilarious. Maybe I should be trying this portal spell too. It would definitely make sneaking out much easier."

Eiruk's comment earned an eye roll from Neri as she took a seat on her bed next to him. She was still disappointed about their failed attempt at finding the crystal that he now held in his hand.

"It's not funny," she pouted. "I really thought I had it this time. Where were you, anyway?"

He simply shrugged. "I was holding it in my bedroom. I came to check when I felt the disturbance in the weave."

Neri rested her head on her hand, her gaze fixed on the ball in Eiruk's grasp. "I can't believe I can't even locate this object in the neighboring room," she muttered to herself. "How in the nine hells am I supposed to find three stones that could be hidden anywhere along the Crionthar?!"

He chuckled and tossed the crystal back to her. "Well, as much as I enjoy watching you fling yourself into different dimensions, I think it's time we take a breather."

She let out a frustrated groan. It was true, she had been searching for that cursed piece of crystal all over the academy for the entire day, simulating it was a Netherese stone, and trying to open a safe passage to it.

However, all her efforts had only resulted in opening gates nowhere near it. Hells, the doors hadn't even lead inside the tower.

"I can't stop now," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I need to make this work. I have to."

Eiruk looked up at her with concern in his eyes. "You've been obsessing over this for days now," he said softly, "why is it that important anyway? You have a whole year to finish the research."

No, I only have three months, she thought to herself, but instead Neri avoided Eiruk's gaze, feeling guilty for keeping the truth from him. She couldn't risk involving him in her family matters, especially when he was already dealing with so much helping with the recovery of the Academy and his own research project.

"It's... complicated," she finally said, not meeting his eyes.

Eiruk's expression turned understanding and he gave her a sympathetic smile. "I won't pry," he said softly. "But just know that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk."

Neri felt her heart clenching with guilt at his words. She mustered up a smile and responded, "Thank you for understanding."

He grinned, reaching for her hand. "I'll be there, no doubt about it," he said before smirking. "But don't think you can use emotional talks to get out of going to the city with me tonight."

She let out a frustrated groan. "I really can't..."

But Eiruk stood his ground. "Consider it my payment for helping you throughout the day," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Despite her efforts to resist, she couldn't help but chuckle at his determination.

"Okay, but we have to be back before the sun sets. And please don't try to charm any gnomes this time. I can't afford to get kicked out of another place."

Eiruk stood with a jump and extended a hand to her. "It's a deal," he said with a grin.

She took it and pulled herself off the bed, her muscles protesting from the day's exertion. She had been so focused on her magical training that she'd forgotten about the physical toll its continuous usage could take.

As Neri and Eiruk made their way through the halls of the academy, Neri couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement at the thought of taking a break from her research. Eiruk's cheerful chatter about how they never did anything fun only added to her growing anticipation.

They soon reached Corlin's room and found him hunched over a pile of scrolls on his desk.

"Corlin!" Eiruk exclaimed, startling the blonde out of his concentration.

Corlin looked up with a raised eyebrow. "What is it? Did you get into another mess, Eiruk?" he asked, eyeing them both suspiciously.

"Ugh, always thinking the worst of me Cor! No, we're going out for some fun tonight," Eiruk said with a grin.

Corlin stared at her for a moment before breaking into a rare smile. "Did you agree to this, Neri?"

She nodded, smiling back at him. "I could use a break from all this research and magic," she said.

Corlin's smile widened. "Then count me in."

The trio made their way out of the academy sneaking into the bustling streets of Waterdeep. If Vanja knew of their whereabouts she would no doubt be pissed at them for not getting enough rest to be centered in their resposabilities, but she had never caught them before. As they made their way out of the academy and onto the bustling streets of Waterdeep, Neri couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. It had been so long since she'd been out for fun in the city, let alone at night.

Eiruk led the way, his footsteps light and confident as he weaved through the crowds. Corlin followed close behind, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for any potential dangers.

Neri stuck close to her friends, taking in all the sights and sounds around them. The smell of sizzling street food filled her nostrils, and she could hear the lively chatter of merchants and patrons alike. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a warm glow over everything.

As they made their way deeper into the city and into the North Ward, Eiruk suddenly stopped in front of a tavern with a boisterous sign that read "The Grinning Lion."

"This is it!" Eiruk exclaimed, looking back at Neri and Corlin with a grin.

Corlin raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Are you sure this is where we want to spend our evening? Only boring young nobles frequent this place."

Eiruk scoffed. "Come on, Cor! Don't judge a book by its cover. The Grinning Lion is one of the most lively and entertaining places in all of Waterdeep."

"I'm not one for lively and entertaining," Corlin muttered, but he followed Eiruk and Neri inside nonetheless. The interior of the tavern was just as lively as its exterior. The air was thick with the smell of ale and sweat, and the sound of raucous laughter filled Neri's ears.

Eiruk led them to a table in the corner where they could see everything going on without being too conspicuous.

"Let's start with some drinks," Eiruk said, moving over to the bar to order.

As they waited for their drinks, Neri took a moment to observe Corlin. He looked brighter than usual, his blue eyes glittering with excitement. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of how much he had grown since they first met.

Back then, he was barely a teenager – all lanky limbs and a mess of golden locks covering his eyes. But now, as she watched him scan the room with a sense of wonder and curiosity, she saw a handsome young wizard, full of potential and promise.

"Hey, stop staring," Corlin said with a smirk as he caught her looking at him.

Neri rolled her eyes. "I can't help it. You are so grown up, Cor."

Corlin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm not that different, Neri. Just a bit taller," he murmured.

"Oh, Corlin, you have no idea," Eiruk said as he placed three tankards of ale on the table. "You should see how much she used to mother you when we were growing up."

Neri glared at Eiruk playfully before taking a sip of her ale. It was bitter and strong, but she enjoyed the warmth it brought to her body. They laughed and clinked their mugs together, their drinks sloshing onto the wooden table. Everyone around them was caught in their own world of joy and laughter, it felt so liberating to be just one amongst the crowd, unnoticed and unburdened.

Eiruk was in full form tonight, delighting them with his amusing anecdotes and witty remarks. Corlin listened attentively, laughing heartily at Eiruk's recounting of an incident where he accidentally turned himself into a sheep during his first year at Blackstaff Academy. Neri watched them both, suddenly overcome with affection for the two who had become her family in all but blood.

Neri's laughter ceased abruptly as a sharp chill ricocheted down her spine. She spun around in her seat, scanning the bustling crowd until her eyes landed on a familiar face - her father's. Her heart pounded in her chest as their gazes locked, and she didn't know whether to run or stay frozen in place.

Panic set in, and she quickly turned back to Eiruk and Corlin.

"We have to go," Neri said urgently, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eiruk looked at her in confusion, clearly a little tipsy. "What's wrong?"

Neri didn't want to cause a scene, but she knew they needed to leave before it was too late. "My father is here," she said, her voice trembling.

Corlin's expression turned serious as he glanced around the room. "Shit. Don't worry, we can-"

But before he could finish his sentence, Neri's father had already made his way to their table.

Her father's tone was disapproving and frigid as he asked, "So this is how you choose to neglect your responsibilities?"

Neri felt a tight knot form in her stomach as she stood up to face him, Eiruk and Corlin following suit. She couldn't believe this was the first time he was adressing her in months.

"Father, I...I just wanted to have a night out with my friends," she tried to reason, but her father's stern expression didn't waver.

Arsten Thunderstaff glanced back and forth between her and her friends, a disapproving look on his face. "You have responsibilities to attend to, Neri," he scolded. "And it doesn't involve indulging in drinks and wasting your time with these...commoners. That's not why we allowed you to attend Blackstaff Academy."

Eiruk bristled at the insult while Corlin stepped forward, ready to defend Neri. But she placed a hand on his arm, silently pleading for them to not make the situation worse.

"Father, they're my friends," she said firmly. "And I don't see why I can't spend my free time with them."

Her father's gaze hardened once again, "

"Your leisure time should be devoted to preparing for your future role in our esteemed wizarding family, as that is more important than anything else. You are a valued member of one of the most respected families in all of Waterdeep, Neriyra," he reminded her sternly.

"I know that," Neri replied through gritted teeth, struggling to keep her composure, "you remind me of it every damned day."

"Then start acting like it," Arsten said firmly before turning on his heel and walking away.

Neri stood frozen, watching her father getting out of the busy tavern. She took a deep breath, trying to push down the anger and frustration that was bubbling inside her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly to her friends, feeling guilty for ruining their night out.

Eiruk put a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Corlin spoke up in indignation.

"He has no right to speak to you like that. Or us, for that matter."

Neri forced a smile at her friends, grateful for their support. "It's alright," she said, though it was anything but. "Let's just...finish our drinks and go."

Eiruk and Corlin both nodded, worry evident on their faces. As they left the tavern and made their way through the crowded streets of Waterdeep, Neri couldn't help but feel the weight of her father's words bearing down on her. Eventually, they reached the entrance to Blackstaff tower and Neri let out a sigh of relief. The familiar stone walls provided some comfort amidst the chaos of the night; this was her true home, after all.

"I need to take care of some business before going back. You'll be alright now?" Eiruk asked, still clearly worried.

"I'll be fine," Neri reassured him with a small smile. "Thank you for coming tonight. It was fun."

"Yeah, we should repeat soon," Eiruk replied with a small smile before heading off towards the dark hallways.

Corlin lingered at Neri's side, his gaze filled with concern. "I will walk you to your bedroom," he said softly.

Neri nodded gratefully, leaning on her friend for support as they made their way through the familiar corridors of Blackstaff tower. She couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and anger that still lingered from her encounter with her father.

Corlin hesitated before speaking up again.

"You know, Neri, I never understood why your father is so hard on you," he said softly as they walked through the quiet hallways of Blackstaff tower.

Neri sighed, her thoughts still consumed by her argument with Arsten. "It's just how he is," she replied with a shrug.

"But it's not fair. You have more magical talent in your pinky finger than most wizards have in their entire body," Corlin insisted, his frustration evident in his voice.

Neri smiled weakly at her friend's words. Corlin was always quick to defend her and boost her confidence when she needed it most. "Thank you, Corlin," she said sincerely. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything to her in that moment. She had always felt like an outcast among her own family, but Corlin and Eiruk had never made her feel that way.

His voice trembled as they reached Neri's room. He couldn't keep his eyes off her, and finally whispered, "You know," he started, unable to meet her gaze, "you don't have to face this alone. I... we'll always be here for you."

His words brought a lump to Neri's throat. She nodded mutely, finding herself momentarily overwhelmed with emotion.

The younger boy took a step and grabbed her into his arms, and she took the moment to hug him tightly. He felt warm and solid, a rock she could grab into, even on the darkest moments. Neri closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of wood smoke, lavender, and the earthy smell of books, a comforting aroma that enveloped her like an embrace.

Eventually, they pulled away from each other and Neri gave Corlin a small smile. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night."

Corlin nodded understandingly. "Get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day."

Neri gave him a grateful nod before entering her room and closing the door behind her.

The next evening, Neri found herself once again entering Gale's studio with a stack of scrolls perched precariously on her arms. Despite her determination to figure out the combination spell on her own, she couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat as she approached her mentor.

"I'm sorry," she began, interrupting Gale's work yet again. "I know I am interrupting over and over, but I can't seem to find the right way to locate the object while also evaluating the surroundings to create a successful gate. I don't know what else to do." She let out a frustrated sigh as she dropped all her belongings gingerly on a nearby table.

"My dear Neri, you are like a reflection of myself. Yes, as a young man I too thirsted for knowledge like a parched wanderer in the desert." He said wistfully from somewhere inside the room.

Neri let out a small chuckle at Gale's dramatic statement. She scanned the place looking for her mentor. "Why do you speak as if you were fifty? You are still young!"

"I have spent many years studying and honing my magical abilities, giving me a unique perspective on life," Gale replied as he emerged from behind a pile of papers.

Neri grinned, and then was taken aback by the sight of him looking... revitalized. His skin had some color back, and he appeared refreshed with clean clothes and hair falling in soft waves around his face and shoulders. She felt her cheeks flush slightly at the sight of him.

"You look much better." She blurted. What? Why did she say that?

Gale chuckled, running a hand through his now clean hair, and looked to be blushing a little. "I have been known to clean up nicely when I put my mind to it. A good night's rest or two also does wonders," his eyes posed on her, "you look like you need it yourself."

A rosy flush spread across Neri's cheeks as Gale's words hit her, but she made a conscious effort to keep looking directly into his eyes. Despite the awkwardness, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that the wizard seemed to be doing better.

Clearing her throat, she gestured towards the scrolls on the table, "Well, the lack of sleep means I have been able to dig on the combination spell, and as I said, I'm still struggling with it and was hoping you could offer some insights. Do you think it could be the incantation causing issues? Or perhaps my mental state isn't properly centered?"

Gale smiled, gesturing for Neri to sit down at the soft orange sofa with him. "Let's take a look at what you have so far."

Neri quickly made her way next to the wizard and spread out her scrolls and notes in front of them. Gale studied them intently, muttering under his breath every now and then. After a few minutes, he leaned back with a thoughtful expression.

"I think I can see where you are struggling," he said. "You are on the right track with the combination spell, but I think you may be overcomplicating it."

Neri furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

Gale went on, "To successfully find and create a dimensional door, precision and focus are crucial. But attempting to combine it with another spell, like location, is splitting that concentration. Perhaps the solution is to view it as one cohesive conjuration instead of two separate ones."

"That's a great suggestion," she said eagerly. "But how would I go about approaching it as one conjuration instead of two?"

Gale smiled, "Think of it like this - when you combine ingredients to make a potion, you don't mix them separately and then pour them together. You add them all at once and let them blend into one cohesive mixture."

Neri nodded, "So I just need to find a way to seamlessly merge the two spells together during the incantation instead of focusing so much on them independently?"

"Exactly," Gale confirmed. "It may take some trial and error, but I believe that is the key to successfully casting this combination spell."

"I see..." Neri thought to herself, taking a moment to process Gale's words. "But why don't you do it yourself then? It seems like you could do it much faster and easier than I am."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment before finally meeting her gaze with a small smile.

"I am afraid my condition makes me too frail to conjure any complex spells."

Neri could sense a hint of sadness in his voice and she immediately regretted her words. She wanted to ask him more about the condition, but she barely knew him, and felt like it might come off as a little intruding.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I just worry that it will take too much time for me to perfect it on my own. We are running out of time, after all..." She sighed sadly. It's not that she thought she lacked the skills; but mastering it would probably require several months of learning and practicing. And that wasn't even counting the time it would take to find the stones.

After pondering for a few seconds, Gale spoke up again. "You are right. Perhaps we could utilize my limited weaving abilities to guide you through the process?"

Neri's eyes widened with excitement.

"You mean we can combine both our spells into one? I never even thought that was a possibility."

Gale nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I could cast the locate spell and guide you through opening the dimensional door.

It would require us to channel the weave together and meld ourselves into one cohesive force, but I believe it would be a more feasible task than attempting it alone."

The thought of merging her consciousness with Gale's was both thrilling and terrifying. It was a level of intimacy Neri had never dared to try before, not even with her closest friends. She pictured their minds intertwining, their thoughts and emotions blending into one swirling confluence of energy. It was a daunting prospect, but if it meant the success of their mission, she would do it.

She nodded resolutely at Gale, offering him a small smile. "I'm willing to try."

His eyes also held a spark of excitement. "Very well. You must know, it will not be an easy task, but I believe in us. We are both outstanding wizards, after all."

Neri laughed softly as he stood and reached out a hand to help her up from her seat. Together, they walked towards the center of the room where there was enough space for their spell. They sat opposite each other, palms pressed together, and concentrated on channeling their magic. Neri could sense Gale's energy merging with hers, bringing a comforting warmth and renewed vigor. Sharing the same Weave was an intimate act, almost like a gentle whisper or tender touch.

The air around them began to hum, and Neri could feel a warm tingling sensation coursing through her veins.

"Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao," Gale chanted softly, his voice blending harmoniously with Neri's. She felt a surge of power within her at the sound of the words, and then her own sense of self fading away as she became one with Gale's consciousness. She could sense him: concentration, relaxation and... pain. So deep she almost faltered. He kept it so well hidden behind his humor, his verbosity and his infectious enthusiasm, it was hard to believe it was there. Gale's pain was a cold, dark undercurrent that Neri could tell it was a deeply rooted issue, likely tied to his condition.

"Now, let's try to combine the location spell with the dimensional door spell," he whispered through the connection they now shared with a mix of effort and exhilaration. "Keep breathing. Keep flowing."

As Gale and Neri stood facing each other, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could feel his magic humming in the air, creating a slight pressure in the back of her head. While her magic felt consuming but messy, his felt small yet precise. With Gale's steady guidance, she followed the trace of his location enchantment until she found the perfect point to open the gate between their worlds. Neri focused all her energy on that spot, channeling it into a stable connection and muttering the words for the door spell. As she did so, she could feel the power of their combined weave intensify, creating a tingling sensation throughout her body. Suddenly, a bright light burst forth from the spot they had been focusing on, growing larger and brighter until it formed into a shimmering portal before them.

"We did it!" Neri exclaimed in amazement as she opened her eyes. When she turned, Gale was looking at her with a soft smile. She could feel the warmth in his gaze, and it brought a sense of comfort and belonging to her. With their magic still intertwined through the Weave, Neri could sense his genuine pride in what they had just accomplished together.

But just a moment later, the portal made a loud sizzling noise and closed with a sharp pop. She felt her spirits deflate as their efforts seemed to have been in vain. Gale, on the other hand, couldn't help but laugh at her disappointment.

"Ah, don’t be so downtrodden about the situation. It was amazing for our first try!", he sat up and began to stretch, “You are really quite excellent at learning things quickly, you know that?”

A warm feeling spread through Neri's chest, and she couldn't help but smile at Gale's praise.

"Really?" she asked timidly.

“Absolutely!” Gale beamed at her,

“You have a natural talent for grasping the intricacies of magic that I still struggle with, despite my years of experience. Trust me, it's not easy to adjust one's own spell casting to match that of another wizard."

She didn't need words to understand the authenticity in his message; their bond gave her all the confirmation she required. A pleasant sensation radiated from Neri's core, and she couldn't help but break into a smile upon hearing Gale's compliment. "I appreciate that," she replied with gratitude.

Gale chuckled and ruffled her hair gently. "Now come on, let's take a break and grab some dinner. We can resume our practice once we've filled our bellies."

"What? But we barely started practicing," she protested.

"We did, but I can sense your stomach grumbling, and I think it's telling us that lunch is more essential than magic training right now. Plus, we need to fuel up before we dive back into magic. For what good is a magic practice without nourishment to power it? It is like trying to start a fire without kindling, futile and fruitless." he added.

"I- I couldn't possibly accept Mast- Gale. I would not want to impose on you."

"Nonsense, my dear. Nurturing your mind and body is not an imposition but a crucial part of our journey towards mastery. Besides, I owe it to you for helping me clean this room the other day." he adds with a cheeky grin "And I might add, I am an outstanding cook, for that matter."

She is about to refuse again, but her stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly. Traitor.

Gale just laughed and pulled her up from the floor.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now let's go fetch some food before my apprentice starves to death."

Neri couldn't help but roll her eyes at Gale's dramatic flair. "Fine, but only this once," she relented.

"Excellent, then it's decided," Gale said with a wide grin. He glanced at Neri, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Prepare yourself for a feast."

Neri quirked an eyebrow, trying to hold back a smile. She doubted of his cooking skills after seeing the mess of his office the previous day, "I'll believe it when I see it."

As they strolled together towards the kitchen, Neri couldn't help but feel a newfound bond between them. The magic they shared had brought them closer in an unexpected way. Even with her previous Master, who was also around the same age as Gale, she had never felt this way. With Gale, it felt more like a genuine friendship, where he saw her as an equal rather than just a student. But then again, maybe it was just the effects of the Weave connection.

Once they reached the first floor, Gale moved confidently toward the kitchens, leaving Neri to follow in his wake. He slipped an apron over his wizard tunic, tying it at the back with ease. It was clear he'd done this before. Neri observed him as he worked, transfixed by the way he moved around the kitchen – so different from the erratic energy he possessed during magic practice.

"Sit," he ordered gently, pointing to a wooden stool on the other side of the counter. "And prepare your palate for my immaculate Hundur sauce."

Neri obeyed, surprised by Gale's assertiveness in this setting. As he started chopping vegetables, Neri couldn't resist asking, "How are you such a good cook?"

"Master Dekarios had a lot of free time while he was alone in his tower." Tara said as she appeared behind Neri, her fluffy tail wagging slowly.

Gale coughed akwardly "Well, it was more of a necessity, and in the beginning, I was terrible at it. But with practice and some helpful tips from my mother, I managed to become somewhat good."

Tara meowed loudly, seemingly agreeing with Gale's statement. Neri watched as Gale effortlessly cooked up a storm, adding spices and herbs to the dishes with practiced precision. The aroma that filled the kitchen made her mouth water.

As they waited for the food to finish cooking, Tara hopped onto Neri's lap and curled up into a ball. Neri stroked the soft fur gently and felt herself relax in the cozy atmosphere of the kitchen.

"Why you were alone for so long here?" Tara

lifted her head and meowed softly."Sorry, I mean, you and Tara."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose I should come clean. You'll find out eventually anyway."

He turned away from the stove and leaned against the counter, facing Neri with a serious expression. "This affliction of mine...well, I wasn't exactly forthright about it before. It's a rather long and complicated story," he began slowly."I was what one might call a wizard prodigy, and from an early age could not only control the Weave but compose it, much like a musician or a poet. Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself the lady of mysteries."

"Mystra." she whispered.

Gale nodded, his expression a mix of sadness and nostalgia. "Indeed. She became my teacher, my muse, and eventually my lover."

Neri's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, I was aware were Mystra's chosen, but you were her lover too?"

"Oh yes we enjoyed each other's company

body mind and soul. But even so I desired more." he explained "You see, no matter how powerful a wizard we mortals can become, we never scratch more than the surface of the Weave. Mystra keeps us in check. There are boundaries she doesn't let us cross. Yet every time I was with her, I stood on the precipice, gazing into the wonders that lay beyond. I sought to cross her boundaries,"

He let out a trembling exhale, resting both hands on the countertop in front of her.

"Gods Gale... what did you do?"

Gale's gaze dropped to the counter, his hands still gripping the edge.

"I...I tried to convince her. But she only told me to be contempted." He looked up at Neri again, pain and regret evident in his eyes. "Can you believe it? I was sharing a bed with a goddess and I seeked to prove myself to her."

Neri reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She felt it tremble slightly.

Gale took a deep breath before continuing. "I found a Netherese tome with a fractured piece of the Weave. I thought, what if

after all this time I could return this lost part of herself to my goddess?"

Neri listened intently. She could only imagine the weight and responsibility he must have felt, being chosen by the goddess of magic and yet still never feeling enough for her, deserving of her.

"What was the answer to your question?" she asked softly.

"I obtained the fabled book and took it

into my study" Gale paused, his voice filled with remorse, "as for what happened next..." he took a step in her direction, grabbing her hand and placing it over his chest, "let me show you."

Neri looked at Gale in confusion, but did as he asked. She placed her hand over his heart and, a faint glow coming from it. She moved closer and was able to see the intricate lines that etched from his chest to his cheek, almost like a permanent tattoo. And then, she felt a pull, followed by the deepest darkest pain she had ever experienced. It was as if she had been thrust into the depths of an endless abyss. She screamed as she felt her soul being ripped apart and scattered to the winds.

Neri's mind was filled with images and memories that weren't her own. She saw Gale standing in his study, holding the Netherese tome in his hands. She felt his desperation, his need to prove himself to Mystra.

But as he began to open the book, a dark presence emerged from within it, engulfing him in its powerful grip. Neri watched in horror as Gale's body twisted and contorted under its influence.

And then, with a deafening roar, the darkness burst forth from Gale's body and consumed him completely.

Neri was pulled out of his mind and back into her own body, gasping for air. She looked up at Gale with wide eyes, tears streaming down her face.

"How...how in the nine hells are you still alive?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and awe.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his big eyes filled with sorrow.

"Neri, I am dying."

taglist: @cookydildorecs

[ms-scarletwings]

A Messy, Sedulous Necropsy of Zib Membrane

That’s what we call him right? Not Invader Zib? Hell if I know, we’ll let the tags decide.

Whatever he is christened by his author, enemies, or fans, this titular villain of the Zimvoid is such a mind blaster to me. I wish we had more time with him within the comics. I wish he had been a concept explored in the show. I wish he had a movie. I am having fun with a little hyperbole here, but I truly do find him just as interesting and potentially pivotal of an antagonist as Tak was, if not even more.

Both, of course, were so badly underutilized for sake of the series status quo. To that, Zib was a much bigger threat than Tak, and especially to that of the comics’ own. He potentially changes everything, and somehow absolutely nothing by the end. The TV show always had a more overt tone of cruelty and the macabre floating about its themes. These print issues? I don’t dislike them. It’s still recognizably invader Zim, and the more the merrier, content-wise, but longtime fans can feel that there was this change of essence in the transition. More obviously, in the art, but more subtly, there was an audible softening of that bluntly darker, cynical tone the show was made iconic for. To put it very generally, they lean a little more into the whackiness of this world, there’s a lot more dark comedy to be found in what I’ve seen so far rather than in your face darkness, and in the absence of the ost and voice acting the show accustomed us to, the comics leave a lot more room to be read as you wile. To me, they’re goofier and more episodic in spirit.

This all is not a critique or rating on the comics.. It’s purely, I feel, why Zib stuck out to me all the more jarringly in his context. His reveal was a genuine twist that brought forth stakes higher than arguably any other threat in the entire franchise. He represents a plausible while horrifying prophecy of our main characters if only they made worse decisions. The most interesting of all, for every piece of amazing information he fed to us, he bred dozens more questions about everything than he answered, from Irken machinations, to his ambivalent backstory, to the secrets hidden by the sum of his parts.

Though he was left evidently alive at the end of his story, I don’t see any chance for him making a return, so he is memorialized as another defeated one-off the writers have brisked past and left behind for good. Therefore, I’m here today to take what we got and present it on the metaphorical autopsy table. I want to really pull apart why this character alone pulled me back into the TV series, really just flay open the bits I can’t get out of my own head and dig harder until we find something or we run out of threads to tug at. Starting with the one already hanging out of my mouth, but

• B.E.F

“Bad End Friend” is a term I learned the meaning of within the last 12 hours or so of writing this, and I’m exuberant over that discovery. It’s a niche trope i didn’t know ive been a giant fan of since I was a child. Summed up, fictional characters from beloved media, typically, animated child protagonists… given the worst case scenario treatment. Their “bad ending”, whether that means a corruption arc, demonic possession, a lovecraftIan tragedy… usually something that’s anywhere along the lines of a fate worse than death to a full villainous turnover. As a treat. The concept is strongly associated with fanworks and AUs of popular media, but just as often this is something that becomes explored in the source material as well. A couple great examples I know would probably be Ice Prince Finn from Adventure Time or what happens in Undertale when you decide you want to run the most depraved playthrough possible. From a more mature story, “Evil” Morty is another validly arguable sample.

Besides a bit of a fondness I got going for certain dark or spooky themes in general, what I REALLY love about canonical BEFs the most is their utility as characterization tools. They’re the “having your cake and eating it too” option! The perfect way for an author to explore certain things about any character without actually committing to well… a bad ending.

Almost always, they are necessarily hypothetical or reversible. If they’re not reversible, they go often hand-in-hand with a little universe tampering to make happen. Sometimes, this means the story goes the way of time travel and branching off butterfly effects. Sometimes it means confirming multiverse theory, which can be the same thing depending on your semantical position.

And Zib crossed off the BEF qualifications by far and away. His implications are extremely dark given any pause think about them, and he’s a living, disturbing tragedy in aftermath. If you want to view a rigamarole about that aspect of his characterization as he appeared in the comics, someone else long beat me to that and I’m enthusiastically recommending a peek at their own work. I’m thrilled to do so and build a little upon that with those extended what-if-wonders.

• Lessons From a Lost Episode

Elephant in the room I haven’t seen someone ask yet, uh..

By show rules, isn’t Zib supposed to be a clear case of the writers committing the sin of retcon? By show I’m including the unaired scripts, including “10 Minutes to Doom”. In that one we had what looked like the potential setup for a Zib case, and it was deconstructed across the whole episode.

In short recap, Dib learned the hard and reckless way about the true nature of what Irken PAKs actually are. This is not an inventory bag, it is not “gear”. It’s the actual Irken entity- at least, the primary component.

Detaching it from the organic shell essentially caused a temporary split into two instances of Zim, desperately trying to connect back together under threat of obliteration.

Like let me be very clear about this,

The PAK is an autonomous instance of Zim’s consciousness, and it’s the main one. We’ve seen it act to save his life when his body has been out cold or flatlined, and he doesn’t appear the least bit disoriented or confused once “he” wakes and jumps back into the action. There’s no known separate computer assistant AI or security autopilot in there. That code, that program, IS Zim. As Long as the PAK is active, he is capable of staying fully conscious and able to react to what’s happening around him, and that’s what we’ve been seeing, his own actions.

Zim proved me right when Virooz tried to replace him and detached the PAK. Take note of his phrasing after the chair event™.

“I” activated the protocol. Immediately after Virooz ran off with my shell.

“I” Voluntarily chose to do so.

I don’t remember it playing out like that in “10 Minutes to Doom”.

Attaching to a new host wasn’t the first reflex. Dib was not the least bit aware that that he has literally holding the actual Zim captive in sense, and the latter was fighting like a cornered animal to escape him. Failing that, alongside the distance between him and his original body growing fast, he made a last desperate gambit, and he willingly connected himself into Dib’s body.

I can see why he thought this was better than nothing, no matter how repulsive the notion might have been. If he couldn’t fend Dib off physically, he could incapacitate him in some fashion by trying to overtake his will. Maybe give the shell a better chance to catch up, maybe in the longshot hope of being able to pilot dib in order to become whole with the correct host again. And you can say he succeeded, at least in dominating bodily control away from Dib, but at the cost of his already tenuously held sanity. This could be because of the interference of Dib’s own mind still resisting to fully submit, or malfunctions because of the biological incompatibility; however, the thing that Dib mentally becomes is only the basic idea of what “Zim” is. Instead of remembering it needs to reunite with its shell ASAP, the PAK mistakes Dib’s body for its own and goes through the manic motions of following the Invader mission. And it does this, weirdly enough, with almost no regard for blowing its cover.

When things are set right again, Zim’s later words near the episode ending revealed that he knew that was an unsustainable state.

Such a risk was not just accounted for, he was actually banking on it if that clock had hit zero. If Zim had truly lost, if he was really doomed to meet his end on this nasty rock in the middle of Nowhere, Space, then by every damned circuit in his being, he was going to take down this insolent fool boy and as many other humans possible with him. A dying act of vengeful rage.

• The Exceptional… Exception

Now, wouldn’t all of this be the definitive reason for Zib’s existence to be an aberrant impossibility? Yes, but actually no. Fun thing about multiverses is if something doesn’t work in one setting, you can just tweak a few dials and suddenly you have a world where the impossible becomes possible. But that’s a pretty cheap answer, isn’t it? So, what exactly was that crucial difference?

What happened in Zib’s timeline that went down so, so divergently from the events of 10 Minutes to Doom?

Because the only one who was in any position to explain it for us was Zib himself, and he’s proven to be one of the most unreliable of narrators. It’s as @dana-chan-the-control-brain already spared no effort to demonstrate, when he does tell us something about his past, his story is pocked with contradicting half-truths or outright lies. Ergo it helps to break down each recount of events to pick out the real facts.

Version 1: This is an alternate version of dib who defeated his complementing Zim (logically sensible) and went on to achieve all of the success and respect he sought after in his timeline (absolute bullshit). He kind of gestures and only implies about what has happened to his body while explaining that he came to his current understanding of Irken technology by studying it through Zim’s lab (a partial truth). He lets slip in passing that he has in fact fused with the PAK in order to learn how to alter and reprogram its coding, lessons he has applied to Number 2 in order to have a brainwashed pawn (also apparently true).

Version 2, when cornered and red handed: This is an alternate version of Dib who managed to specifically stop Zim's mission (Again, makes sense) but somehow could not convince the world of his findings or his warnings about the Irken Armada (*VERY eyebrow raising). Frustrated with the people’s lack of cooperation, he decides he has no choice but to physically merge with Zim’s PAK post-mortem (concerning and evidently mostly accurate), dominate the Earth himself, and enslave humans to help him in his efforts (highly troubling and probably true). The construction of his EMP super-weapon is successful, but ultimately led to the creation of the Zimvoid when the device was field tested (self evident, absolutely horrifying).

You know what I noticed was missing from both of these accounts? Exactly how his Zim was defeated. Which honestly could have been some beyond useful wisdom to pass along to the main Dib??? More than anything else? I’m not going to fault our boy for not pressing that matter better under the awing circumstance; however, there’s an implication I’ve been reading between lines. 

When Zib mentions “defeating” his own Zim, he’s talking about something different than ours.

When our Dib has always talked about “defeating” Zim, he’s meant incapacitation and capture. Throughout the show he explicitly wants to present Zim before an audience alive and whole. Yeah, he fantasizes about other people torturing or disassembling him for study, but HIS role was supposed to be reaping the fame for an undeniable, ground-breaking discovery. Conspiracies and cryptids are all this kid breathes and lives by! And as long as pop culture has always been fascinated with the paranormal, and he has to know this full well, people keep bringing forward hoax after hoax after scam. I mean there’s a freaking current one or few still going IRL about this exact topic. Dib would want no room left for being dismissed as another one of those con artists. 

Nonetheless, I actually doubt this is the reason Zib couldn’t get through to the scientific community. A genuine alien lifeform, even a dead one, could still be confirmed by any basic medical examination. The world thinks Dib is too crazy to listen to, but his father is still Professor Membrane. In "10 Minutes to Doom" OUR Dib got as close as having Membrane literally analyzing a PAK, or at worst, preparing to. “Ultimate Dib” gets his hands on the same thing and pulls a move I’d expect from an HP Lovecraft Protagonist instead.

We’re assuming way too much to what these two Dibs have in common, because this ^^^ is really what made the Zimvoid an outlier in the multiverse. That world didn’t only have a very different, more threatening Zim from the main timeline, it had the Dib who proved even more formidable, cunning, and ruthless, even before the fusion. 

He didn’t obtain that PAK ala the “10 minutes to Doom” accident, it’s a personal trophy. This is extra strange remembering that capturing an Irken is realistically more easy than killing one. They’re seriously more tenacious than kudzu and will even fight back in PAK form alone. I’m convinced that whatever sort of final showdown made the Ultimate Dib the victor, there are two optional endings on the table.

Option 1: There was not a body even left intact enough to bring in to research. Maybe Dib’s fault, maybe an accident, maybe even Zim’s own luck running out and his incompetent antics finally swallowed him (and possibly GIR). This theory assumes that the PAK was the only sort of remains to come into Dib’s recovery/possession.

Option 2: Curiosity Killed the cat,

but satisfaction brought it back.

Or, the one I personally headcanon. Dib… all Dibs, I assume, don’t just hate the Irken species. They are mesmerized by them, and all that they represent from his perspective. Firstly, the epic villain he gets to roleplay nemesis to in order to feel his own worth and importance. Secondly, an unknown wonder from beyond the boundaries of the cosmos. He’s not really a ghost buster or a Men In Black agent at heart, but a scientist, like his father. Underneath his contempt for Zim’s plans to destroy the world is a genuine and appropriately childish awe for alien presence, especially for Zim’s technology. His silent, dopey smile when Tak’s ship ended up in his backyard said more than words ever will.. 

Earlier in the show, a great deal of Dib’s time and effort was spent on trying to infiltrate the lower levels of Zim’s base. Sneaking into the house was hard enough, but the computer security can’t be bypassed like the gnomes. Not even by Zim himself unless he really is all himself. Perhaps you’re starting to sniff where I’m going with this one when I refer back to “Bolognius Maximus”. I’ve another reference that’s a little more on the nose, and a lot more… dark.

Were an expired Irken husk before you, you too might take your victory and cash in then. Still, who knows what sudden impulse may run through the head of a less humble version of yourself, one some could call greedier, obsessive to a fault, a screw or two loose, yet, a hell of a smart cookie. Smart enough to see it for what it actually was, the keys to a whole world of discovery that went so many layers deeper than they could ever imagine. It’s possible the Ultimate Dib already learned beforehand the same hard lessons about the PAKs that our own did, and took that understanding toward not repeating the same mistake this time. What happened to Zim? I think he was murdered in cold blood, body, and entity. “10 Minutes to Doom” showed us a fight between 2 brains clinging to one body, struggling until one overpowered another, but that’s not what this is. Through whatever means of science were available to him, this Dib has probably tried to “disarm” the technology by either erasing Zim’s consciousness out of it altogether, or by forcing the autonomous code into a kind of dormancy. His intentions were to render it back to its basic hardware without losing its precious knowledge and usefulness, something like the brain-filled tank that was wired into Skrang’s head. Zim’s PAK doesn’t cling onto his body like a parasitic teratoma this time; it’s merged in a literal sense with his nervous and circulatory system. As well, he has fooled the device’s ability to detect and reject a foreign host shell, the exact same way he deceived the the base’s security AI. If an Irken biology is what these measures authorize to command them and their secrets, then he had the tools on hand to give them just that- in an atrocity I like to call

the darker harvest.

Within this theory, there is not as much room to wonder exactly what became of Zim’s organic remains. 

But where Dib fucked up was, for the second time, in his ignorance to the true nature of what he was even playing with. That was a mistake that even the mighty Elder Brains of Judgementia lost themselves to; How much more vulnerable was the weak, human mind? Though Zim can be devoured, he can never be digested. In that fact was born this aberration against nature, sanity, and humanity alike.

"Have you ever heard of insect politics? Neither have I. Insects… don't have politics. They're very… brutal. No compassion, no compromise. We can't trust the insect. I'd like to become the first… insect politician. Y'see, I'd like to, but… I'm afraid, uh… I'm saying… I'm saying I - I'm an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it. But now the dream is over… and the insect is awake." - Seth Brundle, The Fly, 1986

By fusing what is half-mad and what is utterly mad, neither being was cured, only assimilated into the birth of a new madness. The madness of the creature that snickers behind the curtain in the Zimvoid. I rightfully fear that lonesome thing, but not I think as much as I pity him.

• Dejavu, or Re:Plagarism

One more thing about the Zimvoid arc I find curious is the way it makes you question more and more just how much of the aberration is actually still Dib, and how much of it is Zim's infection haunting him. He does nothing with all of his intellect, his resources, and his time in the void doing anything but surrounding himself in everything he claims he despises. He decries alien tyranny in one breath while lording over a homemade, cruel dictatorship in another. He calls for eradication of the very race who's technology and physiology he has thoroughly appropriated. He laments feeling unable to protect the Earth from the Armada alone, yet sneers literally through Irken teeth to insult humans as inferior and of no value to him any longer. Our Dib spent the whole damn show longing for the support of other people, but Zib pushes away potential allies in his arrogance. His broken timeline never became a Dibvoid instead because while only half of his mind can't stand Irkens, both of the souls inside him remember that they loathe and look down upon a Dib, deep inside.

The corruption goes as far as even subverting his own creativity. None of Zib's plans are wholly original. His anti-Irken weapon was already a concept blueprinted inside of that PAK before the merge. Our Dib has several times shown a propensity for some DIY ingenuity, sometimes dipping a toe into the supernatural. Zib entirely calls upon, scavenges and regurgitates Irken designs with a few modifications or upgrades. The Dib Virus, I think is his most uninspired creation yet, for it's original form was always something inside of Zim, even if the latter himself was not aware of the fact. Like all else, it is a weapon he has plundered, customized, and turned around on everyone else for his own selfish ends. This brief point I will end on one  more reflection. The one kind of help Zim ever allowed at his side were the likes of GIR and his own creations. Unable to connect and cooperate with his peers and own kind, his ego preferred to be around those defective machines he related to- drones to be owned by him and always loyally at his beck and call. A slave to admire him unconditionally is the only companionship he's ever been willing to admit to desiring.

And what was Number 2's purpose again? What role exactly were the arena combatants auditioning for, when you think about it?

[joltyflare]

(Sun and Moon Show Rant #4: Ruin's Arguably The Most Tragic Character In The Series)

Buckle up guys, this is gonna be a long rant!

So, Ruin. He has basically become the most hated character in the series after Solar's death. I'm a Solar simp, believe me, so I understand why people are mad. But I don't hate Ruin for it. I don't hate Ruin at all. I'll explain more in this rant.

So, at first when Ruin was "cured" I was skeptical like everyone else. I mean not too long before he was injected he went on about how he was a good actor. I felt like this could be foreshadowing. In hindsight, I was correct. However, I actually fell for his ball pit shark, clumsy, unable-to-fix-things-but-trying antics (which one of my rant posts displays as an example IN FULL). When he revealed himself to not be that it took a few days to get used to his character, which was made harder by the fact he was responsible for Solar's death.

That said, I did have the theory that he was going to do things that Sun and Moon wouldn't like that possibly involved the Creator Council and I was right on the money with that theory and I was so happy! Kinda. I didn't like that Solar of all people had to die. I was just happy my theory was correct.

Anyway, I got used to this real side of him that has finally been revealed. Then, as I thought about it, and as more episodes passed, I realized how much I love Ruin as well as how tragic his life has been. He might just have the saddest backstory of any character in this series! Sure, he hasn't died yet (as far as we know), but he has suffered a fate much worse than dying.

So, now onto the part everyone is here for...

First of all, Ruin has had to deal with the trauma of slowly watching his friends succumb to a virus that he found out too late he was carrying. He watched as they turned against each other and as the world was sent into chaos because of the virus! By the sounds of it in the episode where Eclipse confronted him about why he was made, it sounds like Ruin didn't know why they were turning against each other at first and found out later. Keep in mind that he was the carrier of this virus, which means that he was carrying it without realizing it if this was the case.

So far, we can only theorize as to how he came to the point where he carried the virus and spread it to the other animatronics without meaning to. Someone pointed out that it was slightly implied his Creator didn't make it and someone else did. People assumed this to be Ruin, though with what we know about him he obviously didn't do it...right? Well, people have proposed the theory that the Creator somehow tricked him into making it and carrying it. From what we know about Creators, all of them are manipulative and have a way with words.

Anyway, so...yeah, he had to deal with watching his friends lose their minds and turn on one another, succumbing to a virus that ended up destroying his dimension. This was bad enough on its own but it obviously gets worse from there.

Ruin had to pretend to also be inflicted himself. He had to act like he didn't mind killing people. To put it in perspective: He had to pretend that he was a psychotic killer robot who killed and maimed people and animatronics for fun and games. When in reality, he didn't like it. Not one bit. He had to do this to survive and have his plans remain undetected. For years on end. He had to trick people into thinking this was what he was like and he had to kill just to prove it, when in reality he hated every second of what he did and currently hates himself for it.

On top of that, his body deteriorated and fell apart. That was just something he had to live with as part of his act. As a way to fit in with his now-deranged former friends who also turned on him because of their virus.

He had no choice but to pretend to be some deranged maniac who loved killing and had to deal with his friends slowly decaying physically and mentally, also while learning there wasn't much he could do for them in the end. However, he did learn that he could save other dimensions...by destroying the Creator Council. And this was a goal he had to work toward for a long, long time. He had to figure out how to kill all the Creators involved and when he did figure out a way to do so, the only thing he could come up with was to destroy 5,000 of their dimensions entirely and essentially kill off every single inhabitant of those dimensions. He couldn't think of another way but he knew they were too dangerous to keep alive and that 5,000 wasn't that big of a number when taken into consideration the infinite amount of dimensions that would have been affected by the Creator Council.

Maybe Ruin even thought that destroying the dimensions was a better fate for the ones that were destroyed than having their Creators ruin them themselves. Maybe he thought them just being destroyed in a fraction of a second was merciful for the dimensions, which would make sense after what he saw his own one go through.

He couldn't think of a way to get rid of the Creators without many casualties. Not only did he know this, but he also knew that those in other dimensions who were affected by these collapses would seek him out to kill him. He knew he'd have enemies after this. He knew anyone who had loved ones from those dimensions would lose them suddenly. But he had no other option. He thought about this and plotted this for years. He didn't want to make anyone else suffer but strongly believed that the consequences were worth getting rid of the Creator. He did this for the best interests of every other dimension that would have been affected by this council...which would have been way more if he hadn't stopped them.

Ruin never wanted another dimension to suffer the slow, violent fate of his own. On top of this, nobody would love him for it. He knew this. He knew that after he did this, everyone would hate him and that nobody would appreciate this and that most people he saved would obviously have no clue. To him, it was necessary to save others and he didn't care if it was a thankless act.

We also have to keep in mind the fact that he did this in a dimension where he began to be treated kindly (at least for the most part) by its inhabitants. Kinder than he believed he deserved, knowing what he had done and what he was going to do. Even though they kept him at an arm's length, he got to know Sun, Moon, Solar, Earth, and Lunar to a degree. Some of them mainly through observation. He knew they wouldn't approve of what he was doing and knew the only way to distract them was to bring back someone they feared and hated most, after having slowly been getting treated more and more kindly by them, knowing they believed they had spared his life after saving him from a cure. Yet he felt he had to bring back their greatest enemy to distract them. All while keeping the act of being innocent, clumsy, and just weird.

Before this, he had to make everyone fear interrupting his plans by resurrecting Bloomoon, someone he knew would maniacally kill everything in sight and had to pretend he shared their joy in doing so.

But, yeah, back to his relations with Sun and Moon...he began to clearly begin feeling some sort of fondness for them, I believe, because I have my doubts he would've even thought of keeping Solar alive when he had been under the "virus" persona. At that time, I don't think he felt any sort of kinship with them yet and would simply have continued to treat them as part of the necessary casualties without even bothering to think of sparing Solar from his equation... But after that, when he'd spent months around them and even got to the point of knocking Solar out and copying his code, I believe he did genuinely begin caring more than he would have liked given what he was planning. I believe that this is why he did try doing what he could to spare Solar and found out he couldn't no matter what he tried.

So, after failing to find a way to prevent Solar from being wiped out with the dimension, Ruin had to watch his family react to his death and watch them grieve. Not only did he wait for them to come so he could at least explain what he did, but he continued to face their grief and then allowed them to do what he liked. This leads me to...

He believed he would die. Then and there, he believed Moon would probably kill him or send Eclipse to kill him. If not, then he probably believed this would occur immediately after Moon copied his data. But Ruin surrendered himself entirely to him and his family. Keep in mind that this guy has magic. He could've done whatever he wanted to after this. But he handed himself in. Some people think that this could've been part of a different plan but...really? I don't think so. I mean, by all means, he could have gone off and done anything he wanted. Monitored everything from afar if he needed to. But he didn't. This shows further proof that he really, truly does lack self-interest. This is huge right now in determining whether or not he's truthful. Plus, everything else he has acted out so far has involved him suffering a bit as a result. This Ruin, the one who killed all the Creators and gave himself up to Sun and Moon and their family, is undoubtedly the real Ruin. We finally have him as who he is.

Adding onto the fact that he handed himself in, he now has to watch their grief up close even longer after believing he probably would be dead by now. He has to watch as they suffer Solar's loss and has to deal with being confronted and hated on as he stands completely still in his cell. He has admitted that he hates himself and that he wants to die, having no real reason to live now that he believes he has freed the universe from the Creators. Wanting them to hurry up and kill him already. Having no friends who are alive. I don't believe he expected to be alive this long. Since he admitted to feeling genuine guilt over the death of Solar and hating himself, it's safe to assume it must hit him hard inside being reminded of the things he felt he had to do. He didn't enjoy making others suffer or tricking others. He was just good at pretending and it was a skill he needed to get what he felt he had to do.

I think he didn't want to get close to the family and began to care for them more than he wanted to admit. He even admitted that made it harder for him to have to trick them, knowing that Moon was even thinking of considering him family. That would've been his last opportunity to have friends or family again and he gave it up completely for his goal.

Ruin is an anti-villain who did what he believed he had to for the good of others, despite it being in a way that was tragic and awful. He believed it to be the only way. He had to watch his friends die. He had to pretend to be maniacal and evil and enjoy killing for who knows how long...and imagine how his first kill felt when he had to do this!). When he finally dropped that act (which he was probably quite happy he had an excuse to do!), he had to pretend to be a clumsy family friend. He gave up the chance to truly have them as his family and friends to achieve his goal. He now has to sit in a cell, watching the grief of everyone around him, knowing he will be both hated and scorned for what he did, even giving himself up just to face their wrath because he deserves it. Waiting for his death. He believed it was for a good cause...even if he'll never, ever be recognized for it. Even if he knows he is going to be despised for as long as the universes exist, with no one who will appreciate what he did.

And that is just tragic.

You can also note that he sounds more and more worn down with each interaction he has in his cell.

Well, I wonder what will happen to him now. I feel like his story is not yet over and he will not get the death he yearns for. He's still important to the plot, I believe, and I feel like he still has potential that can be squeezed outta him!

I'm so curious to know what will happen to who I believe is the most tragic antagonist in the series. Character in the series. If he dies, I hope it's meaningful. He's such a good character!!

Edit: Oh, yeah, and he also mentioned knowing a thing about grieving with others. Bonus angst points

[starryinkart]

MURDER DRONES THEORY??

So, me and my significant other were talking about CYN and N’s relationship as siblings and we were talking about the Murder Drones theme song “Murder Brings” that goes…

"Winter rains down on the ashes,

Obviously referencing the state of Copper 9 and possibly other planets that have been destroyed.

Mother makes fuel from the bones,

We know that the Solver makes fuel from the bones to survive. In Episode 7, CYN in Tessa mentions multiple times they are “starving” and “let’s eat” only to N. We know the solver finds N interesting and he’s is its favorite due to the fact that he “likes doing anything” and it likes to mess with him, but also because him and CYN considered themselves siblings. There could be ALOT of other reasons but N is important to the Solver one way or another, so important that it even mentioned apologizing to his clones if he died. But more on this in a sec…

Murder rips gods from the masses,

This also confused me a bit, but now that we know that the Absolute Solver causes the hosts infected to have powers similar to gods and basically reshape the world around them with out much explanation or hows as of now, I’m assuming it’s referencing that murdering beings/drones, singles/revives out those who are special/infected with the solver from the masses and turns them into mini gods.

Basically Children of the Solver.

Murder brings, murder brings"

"Murder Drones"

Self explanatory. Murder Drones were basically confirmed to be the solvers pets, being sent to wipe out any resistance from solver users who can end up beating it, or make the process of consuming the substance it needs to survive easier and quicker, so the AS can move onto the next planet faster. Murder brings, Murder brings. Murder Drones. Which signifies the end of those who are being destroyed by them.

———

Now that that is analyzed, we are back to CYN and N!

The solver seems to see the DDs as pets, CYN its host. Whether CYN is partly still in there as herself trapped in her own mind or long gone we don’t know, but we do know N and her were very close. It seems to see the DD as creations, helpers, children it saved from death and the Solver holders as strength, pathways to its goal, another form of children in some sick way.

Then in the theme song, we hear context about a “MOTHER”, which in the context of the recent reveals, makes somewhat sense. All these solver beings, whether modified by the solver or inheriting its power came from the solver in some way. If it wasn’t for the solver salvaging N,V,J and the other DDs, we never would have had the threat Uzi and her colony, as well as other planets being wiped out and the solver gaining more power. Or Uzi/Doll developing the solver, Nori dying to the DDs, Khan having to put her out of her misery, Nori being gone causing most of the problems in Uzis life, as Nori said in Episode 7 etc etc. Basically the DDs do the work to keep their savior/creator/ MOTHER fed and powerful, giving her fuel, and in return, she makes them safe, not discarded and useful where the humans disposed them as WDs. Perfect bases for a new civilization seeing this Eldritch Being as their god.

Now, I’ve noticed something. Since the beginning of the series, the concept of Mother hasn’t been brought up again. Mother needing fuel from the bones. Unless we see CYN as Mother which I doubt, I would say Mother is the MAIN Solver Entity. The Eldritch beings we’ve seen are just smaller versions of the Real Solver, with Eldritch J and CYN, and recently that unknown being chasing N and Nori in the mines in Episode 7, which could possibly be Tessaritch. Either that or the idea was scrapped, but I feel like it is important. We definitely haven’t seen the real form of the Absolute Solver yet, and we might not until Episode 8 or we get a Season 2 (if we do, hoping we do!), but I feel like this is an interesting idea to latch onto when thinking for The Solver, and that it also relates itself to many names, Mother might be one of them. Especially if its goal after it consumes the universe and all of humanity/species, is to restart the universe in its own image and ways.

Lastly, if CYN and N were siblings and the concept of Mother has been brought up…

We know why CYN is important, as she was presumably Patient 0 and made a pact not to discard her for CYNS body and service. That’s why she is important to the solver.

But why is N, besides him being nice to it and just liking doing anything? And always surprising the solver? Unless there’s something else we don’t know yet? Or maybe that’s it and he really is just a sick plaything for the solver.

Who knows?? But I guess we’ll probably see more of this concept in Episode 8, or beyond depending how far the show goes. Even if not, I have some pretty good ideas for my Skin and Bones AU if it isn’t expanded on in the show.

Sorry if this was a bit confusing, it’s SUPPPERR late and I’m SUPPPPERR tired. I’ll edit this tomorrow if anything seems off. This also gave me a great art idea so, the creative brain is whirring. /gen

[drconstellation]

First-Order Archangels

Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

Part 1: Maybe You'll See An Archangel Part 2: Foils of War

This is a topic I've wanted to address for some time (ha!) concerning a discussion around Jim's moments of lilac-eyed possessed prophecy and Crowley not wearing his sunglasses around Jim inside the bookshop in S2. I've had rough thoughts about what's going on at these times, but because its more of a sub-textural implication, rather than being overtly stated I guess I've hesitated somewhat and wanted to think it through properly first. Then I started writing this, and as I starting checking things, one thing led to another...and it's tripled in size. Enjoy the juicy long length!

I've decided to included this meta as part of the First-Order Archangel series as it will focus on Gabriel and Crowley, and their connection with time and prophecy. Both of them wear wristwatches - Gabriel seems to wear one instead of an angel ring, which I find most curious. Both have moments where they talk about the future that has been revealed to them. But when it comes to the Great Plan of the Almighty, they couldn't be more opposite.

The Seer and the Herald

Time is Crowley's domain. He can stop it for short periods, and he seems to know about fragments of human science and technology in the future. For example, he suggests to Mr Dalrymple that a change in hygiene might be beneficial, upon meeting him. It could also be said that he acts an oracle, as he gives advice and counsel, both here with Mr Dalrymple and in 1941 when he warns the Nazi's to flee before the bomb arrives, and that they won't like what comes after. (Although, 1941 was a case of Crowley actively manipulating the outcome of the future, so perhaps that doesn't count.)

Crowley: You might want to think about washing your hands. It's gonna be all the rage in a few years, I'm telling you.

Gabriel, as the Herald, is also given knowledge of the future. It was said he spoke to Daniel several times, explaining the visions Daniel had, which were of things to yet to come, and he was tasked with the "foretelling" of the births of John the Baptist and Jesus to their prospective mothers. I realize none of these examples are GO canons (yet,) but there is also the interesting parallel character in S1 of the lawyer Giles, who delivers the second manuscript of Agnes Nutter to Newt and Anathema the day after the Nopocalypse in S1 who is definitely Gabriel-coded and "heralding" the future possibilities there.

Tense Moments

There are two times during S2 that Jim is possessed by a divine spirit that takes over his corporation, turning his eyes back to Supreme Archangel Gabriel-lilac and putting words into his mouth.

The first instance is about the past: in S2E2 Jim recites a verse from Job 38:7 - and Aziraphale and Crowley both remember it, because they were there when the words were said.

The second instance, towards the end of S2E3, is about the present...

"There will come a tempest, and darkness, and great storms."

...and the future.

"And the dead will leave their graves and walk the earth once more. And there will be great lamentations."

Past, present, and future. For both of them, Crowley has his sunglasses off and he is peering into Jim's face.

I have some notes about which verses these are supposed to be from (Hebrews 12:18 for the first half and Matthew 27:53 for the second half) but upon checking them I'm wondering if they are actually correct, even if we take into account they have probably been re-written for the show, like the lines from the Book of Job were paraphrased in the Job minisode. But that aside, we can still deal with them within their temporal frames of reference - the former describing the not-insignificant piece of weather-work that Crowley had just stirred up, and the latter is pointing to the Second Coming, with the resurrection of the dead.

Both halves have words of significance: The first half has the word tempest, and the second half has the word lamentations.

The Foreshadowing Storm

Storms are often used as a trope to foreshadow trouble in the future of a story. I don't think we tend to see Crowley's rain storm as foreshadowing of what is to come as he was in control of that storm and it was for a particular reason - which failed. But Jim's words contained the future tense of "will" - There will come a tempest - so lets have a look at some possible connotations.

A tempest is a violent storm or thunderstorm, but it can also be an situation in which people are very angry or excited, an upset, calamity, or some unexpected misfortune.

And you could say that did happen by the end of S2.

There is also Shakespeare's play, The Tempest, which our demon would no doubt be aware of (it's considered a romance - you know, once of the funny ones.) In it there is a wizard of sorts, Prospero, the former Duke of Milan, who was usurped from his position, and fled with his infant daughter to an island. Many years later the King of Naples and the Duke's brother are passing in a ship, so Prospero magically whips up a storm and shipwrecks them on the island with him and his now teenage daughter, Miranda. He then tries to manipulate a romance between the King's son and heir and Miranda. Other stuff happens as well but in the end they all escape the island and there is a kind of happy ending, and forgiveness.

The Book of Lamentations

Back to the second half, that is supposed to be from Matthew 27:53, but probably more likely Matthew 27: 52-54. Yes, these verses do describe the dead rising from the grave, but the use of "great lamentations" here is a paraphrasing flag being waved in our faces.

A lament is a passionate expression of grief or sorrow. It can also be a complaint, or an expression of regret or disappointment.

Biblically, a lament is a prayer expressing sorrow, pain or confusion.

And with that, we can go back and re-contextualize a scene from S1.

The Book of Lamentations in the Bible contains five chapters describing the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 587 B.C. after a long siege. Each chapter is a poem from a different viewpoint about this event.

But what do we have in S1E4 instead? We have Crowley with a book of things he helped to build, expressing sorrow and pain at their imminent destruction, and that of the humans and the Earth. He prays to God, asking questions in vain hope of finding answers to his confusion as to why it seems it must all end with such finality.

Jerusalem was destroyed a second time, in 70 C.E. by the Romans. The city was rebuilt, and still stands today, but the Temple of Solomon wasn't, and this is a topic of contention in some beliefs. This also fits in with the theme of Memento mori, "Remember that you die," a reminder that life is brief, and there is a cycle to life and death.

Nonetheless, the Second Coming is connected with a New Jerusalem, a walled garden (a paradise) where those with their names written in the Book of Life will reside, with access to the Tree of Life in the middle.

Within the Walls of The Garden

The bookshop is Aziraphale's modern day re-creation of the Garden of Eden. Within it's walls he has gathered knowledge that he protects, there is a circular "gate" at the entrance, and he's made it a sanctuary for him and Crowley from other supernatural beings, particularly demons.

During S2 we see Crowley spend quite a bit of time inside the bookshop, and more often than not, he has his sunglasses off here.

While we can understand Crowley not wearing his sunglasses around Aziraphale, its perhaps more surprising that he doesn't seem to worried to not wear them around Jim either. He gets into Jim's face, eye to eye, but they don't agree with one another. It takes a lot of questions, from both sides, to turn this around.

The Great Plan

There's the Great Plan, and the Ineffable Plan.

Gabriel would never dream of deviating from the Plan.

At least he didn't, until he said "no" to the second Apocalypse.

Gabriel: Anyway, Armageddon the Sequel, that's a nah.

His own plan went awry when he forgot where he was going.

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

And with his memories gone it was time to relearn things from the beginning. Good thing the original teacher from The Beginning was on hand to give some lessons, because we seem to be repeating some things from S1 and the beginning again here.

Right. So who's got a plan? Who's not seeing it this time? Are you actually questioning Crowley's plan, Jim? That's not like you to question plans. Maybe you are finally learning something.

Crowley's other plan was give "Jim" a test, to see if Gabriel was really there. This time Jim was prepared to follow instructions without questions. The gravity of the situation was kind of lost on him, and Crowley had to stop him before it was too late.

Too Early, Too Late

Prophecies are not just about who, what and where, they are also about when.

Crowley makes an angry threat to Jim in reaction to Shax's visit to the bookshop but backs off to enigmatically remark that "it's always too late." There is also the 1827 Resurrectionist minisode, where Crowley stops Aziraphale from healing wee Morag after she is shot with the grave guns, telling him it is too late there, and I think there is even a mention of too late by Shadwell in S1, but I can't remember where (plus Crowley's watch in the book, that has a time-zone in Another Place that is always Too Late.) We are kind-of left hanging here - what is too late? Too late to stop what is already in motion?

Except when its early, and early seems to be associated with destruction as well in the Good Omens AU. We have the examples of Job's house being destroyed, and the arrival of the baby Antichrist, which heralds the destruction of the Earth.

CRAWLEY: Oh. They've started early. Well… Might as well get comfortable. [sniffs wine and pours a glass]

Here, when the Antichrist is delivered in S1E1, Crowley expresses dismay that the time has come so soon.

CROWLEY: "No. Already?"

Could it actually be that the Nopocalypse was too early? And was that why it didn't go to Plan?

The Chosen One

The Antichrist is a sub-trope of The Chosen One tropes, which in itself is prophecy trope. The Chosen One is needed to fulfill the prophecy. We could do a whole line of discussion on how Crowley and Aziraphale then try to subvert this by raising the said Chosen One, only they raised the Wrong One. Instead, I want to point out that Crowley was also a Chosen One. He was chosen to deliver the Antichrist to the satanic nuns on the appointed night. But why? Why didn't Hastur and Ligur just do it?

Ah, you missed that, did you? I don't blame you, and Frances was trying to distract you with a game of three-card monte with the babies as well (and there have been many discussions about that, too!)

This then makes an interesting parallel for Gabriel being the Herald of the first Christ, and Crowley being the Herald for the Anti-Christ. (Or, some meta-ops might even argue, the Second Christ! But that is yet to be determined. How far away is S3 again...?)

The Earth is a Libra

One final prediction, from the very beginning...

Do you recall this seemingly random daily star sign reading from the opening of S1E1?

Most of it makes sense.

A friend is important to you.

uh huh.

Help could come from an unexpected source.

uh huh.

You may be vulnerable to a stomach upset today, so avoid salads.

wot?

I had to kick myself after while on this one, because I was being all smug to myself about catching a quick mention of liver between Madame Tracy and Shadwell at one point, and any mention of a bodily organ is a reference to an emotion and/or virtue. The first thing one must do with deciphering organs is determine whether you are looking at a western or eastern philosophy, as that is most important, but because this is GO we also need too include any biblical influence.

And whoeee - jackpot! There is indeed some symbolism around the stomach in a biblical sense; it is a place of transformation and renewal, where food is broken down and transformed into new energy and the renewing of minds. It emphasizes the need for continual growth and spiritual renewal.

That should ring some bells with you straight away, I would hope.

And the salad? A salad is a mix of different foods together. Foods not separated. (Keep your angels and demons on different sides of the plate, please, no mixing - and don't play with your food!)

[elipheleh]

mary & george feature in tv & satellite magazine. airs in the uk on tuesday (5th) at 9pm on sky atlantic & sky showcase. boxset will be available on sky boxsets/NOW.

text under the cut

Hollywood star Julianne Moore adopts her best English accent this week when she plays Mary Villiers, a mother-of-four determined to secure her family's future, in Sky's seven-part drama Mary & George.

When she learns that King James (Tony Curran) is in a sexual relationship with his adviser, the Earl of Somerset (Laurie Davidson), Mary realises she could gain considerable power and influence if her son George (Nicholas Galitzine) becomes the King's new favourite.

'Mary is from a kind of middling aristocratic family,’ explains Moore, 'She's living in less-than-ideal circumstances, looking for a way to educate her children and keep herself alive. The only way she's really able to do that is through her relationships with powerful men.’

After sending George to France to learn refinement, Mary endeavours to get him noticed - and King James is soon enamoured with the handsome young man.

'At the beginning, the relationship is very transactional for George’, explains Galitzine, 29. 'I don't think he develops feelings for James until a few months, perhaps years, into the relationship. George definitely has something to gain, but the love is very much real between them.'

Although the King is aware of the power games being played around him, he finds it refreshing that George comes from outside the usual circles of the royal court.

‘James is comfortable when hes in the company of his lovers - he wants to forget about being a king,’ says Curran, 54. ‘He wants that distraction of feeling safe with another person, as opposed to lords and politicians constantly grabbing at him, wanting him to make decisions about affairs of state.’

OUTRAGEOUS TRUESTORY

The series is based on the nonfiction book The King's Assassin by Benjamin Woolley, and Moore was drawn to the project by the way Mary seemed ahead of her time.

‘There was something outrageous and direct about her’, says Moore, who won a Best Actress Oscar in 2015 for her role as an early onset Alzheimer's patient in Still Alice. 'She seemed to have her own desire for power and agency in a situation where she might possibly have none. It's interesting what she achieved at a time when women couldn't even own property.’

The cast also includes Trine Dyrholm as Queen Anne of Denmark, Niamh Algar as Mary's confidante, prostitute Sandie, and Nicola Walker as the Queen's lady-in-waiting Lady Hatton.

Mary & George's salty language and revealing sex scenes may surprise some viewers, but the stars believe it reflects the earthy instincts of its characters as they grapple for power.

"The sensuality in the show isn't crass in any way, says Curran. 'It was certainly interesting for me. I'd ask the producers, "What am I wearing today?" and theyd reply, “Your birthday suit, pal!"’

'It's not a typical period drama because of the licence it takes with behaviours and sexuality,’ agrees Moore. 'It's beautiful and opulent and a wildly entertaining romp through history.’

Who’s Who (top right of image)

Mary Villiers

Julianne Moore

The deeply ambitious mother lives on her wits and wants to create a lasting legacy for her family.

George Villiers

Nicholas Galitzine

Mary's second son gains new-found confidence and charm after an educational visit to France.

King James

Tony Curran

The first joint ruler of Scotland and England, the King is seldom seen without an entourage of male companions.

Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset

Laurie Davidson

The King's current favourite is determined to stop George from usurping him.

Queen Anne of Denmark

Trine Dynolm

The Queen would prefer her husband's favourite to be someone she can control.

Sandie

Niamh Algar

Mary's confidante is a prostitute in a high-end brothel, making her privy to the secrets of the rich and powerful.