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dameronology · 4 years

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figure it out {din djarin x reader}

summary: din djarin doesn’t usually get jealous. not until he met you, at least {for the lovely and wonderful @stargazingcarol} - 2.5k words

warnings: swearing

this is completely spoiler free!! just some good old jealousy and some antics with the kid. enjoy.

- jamie

You had a complicated relationship with the Mandalorian.

On one hand, you were colleagues…of sorts. He’d spent two years coming to your outpost on Corellia when he needed his ship fixing – and after becoming fed up of traipsing back and forth, he offered you the job full time. It was a mutually beneficial situation. You’d been desperate to get out the city for years, and you were also the only mechanic he trusted. The prospect of a job that would take you all over the galaxy was exciting, even if it meant tiptoeing around one another in the cramped hull of the Razor Crest (and that was before the addition of the Child). But, when you spent days and days in hyperspace with nobody else to talk to, it was only natural that you became friends. It had felt a little awkward at first, as though you were trying to force conversation with a man who just didn’t want to talk -- but then the Mandalorian’s barriers broke down, and things began to change.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when. It had probably been a few months in, not long after he’d saved your ass from a bounty who had thrown a punch in your direction. You hadn’t expected the Mandalorian to be so protective - and frankly, neither had he. It was after that he found himself doing things without realising; lingering touches on your back when he passed, his hands brushing your thigh whenever you were sat in the cockpit next to him. Then, you became unintentional adoptive parents to a weird, green creature - a bond between you that only seemed progressed naturally, as though you had no control over it.

One night, not long after you took the Child in, you’d both collapsed beside one another on the tiny bed in hull of the Crest. Usually, you would argue for a while about who got to take it, but on that night, neither of you’d had the energy. Under the covers of the dark and with the baby finally asleep, you were muttering amongst yourself - you couldn’t remember the conversation entirely, but it was sleepy, tired gibberish. Din found himself reaching to take the helmet off; he could hear you easier that way, and your voice was comforting enough to lull him off to sleep. In the quiet of the moment, and with the conversation between you reaching a natural stopping point, he’d gently closed the gap between you. It was simple; his lips on yours, only for a brief moment. Then, as though the Child had sensed that everything was no longer about him, he’d opened his mouth and let out a cry for attention.

You began to kiss more often after that; every night before bed, actually. As soon as the lights were off, Din would take the helmet off, give you a gentle kiss and then he’d drift off, holding you tightly to his chest. It was always that, followed by a good night, cyar'ika. Then the morning would come, and it would be good morning, cyar'ika followed by another soft kiss, before the helmet went back on and you both went about your days.

After a few months of that, you’d fallen into an easy routine. Neither of you had quite established what your relationship was, but it didn’t feel like you needed to. It’s not like there was anyone else around for you to have to worry about, or anyone else who would force you to define it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating; Din Djarin had never been the type of person to plan ahead, and you knew that more than anyone. The idea of becoming attached to him, only to lose him or get hurt was enough for you to at least want to try and work it out. You weren’t expecting a deep conversation, or even one that you could walk away from knowing whatever the hell was going on between you two.

It was just that with the addition of the Child, and the two of you growing closer each day, you wanted an answer. You wanted to know if you were wasting your time; if this was simply a pit-stop on your way to finding a more permanent settlement, or if this was it. Though you’d never admit it, you wanted it to be the latter. Din was reliable, and he cared about you. He was sweet in his own way and he’d have gone to the ends of the galaxy to look after you. He was protective in a way that let you fight your own battles, but not in a way you’d ever have to do it alone. You felt safe with him - as though you’d found everything you were looking for, except neither of you had been looking at all.

You brought the question up on a slow morning. The Mandalorian was between bounties, and you’d briefly landed in a dusty outpost on a thick jungle planet to refuel and find some food. The kid was snoring away in his pod a few feet away, clearly feeding off of the relaxed atmosphere that you’d managed to create. You were laying beside him, the lights still off and your head buried in his neck. Both of Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, gripping onto you as though you might slip away into the darkness of the vast galaxy.

‘What are we?’ You asked quietly.

‘Humans.’ Right, there was the dry sense of humour.

‘Din.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m serious.’

‘What’s making you bring it up now, cyar'ika?’ He asked. ‘It’s early.’

‘I was just thinking.’ You sat up, pulling the covers with you. ‘We’ve been doing this thing for months but neither of us have actually worked out what the hell is it is.’

‘We don’t have to.’ He replied.

‘Right.’ You murmured.

‘It’s just-’

As though the little bugger had sensed a sudden onset of tenseness in the room, the Child let out a loud cry. You immediately recognised it: he was hungry. Even if you were ready to throttle anyone who dared come near him, you didn’t have a hard time admitting that he had a penchant for the worst timing. With that said, the fact he’d slept through the whole night without waking once certainly helped the fact.

‘Hey, buddy! It’s okay!’ You heard the mechanical click of Din’s helmet as he turned on the lights, allowing you to leap out of bed and stumble to the baby. ‘We’ll get you some food.’

That wasn’t the first time that something had magically changed the subject whenever you tried to bring up the status of your relationship with Din. If the kid didn’t decide to pull your attention away, it was the Mandalorian himself who veered away from the conversation. He always had to check on a bounty, or rush off to see if the ship was on the right route. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was avoiding the subject entirely and you were starting to become frustrated.

After almost three weeks of trying to challenge him about it, you were close to giving in entirely. What if you were wasting your time? What if you were going to let yourself fall in love with him, only to find out you weren’t a permanent part of his plan? Fuck, did he even have a plan? Was that the life you wanted -

- it was at that point that your train of thought had stopped, because the Child sensed you were upset, and started bawling. Again.

A few hours after your fourth or fifth try at the conversation - once again to have it ended by the kid tossing a frog at you in an attempt to steal the attention back - the three of you ended up in a bar. It was a little cantina a few hours outside of Mos Eisley; it was much cleaner than the other bars you’d seen, and if it weren’t for your foul mood, you might have even enjoyed it.

‘What’s up with you?’ Din asked quietly.

‘Nothing.’ You murmured. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Your tone is off, cyar'ika.’

‘Leave it.’ You snapped. ‘I’m getting another drink.’

You moved the baby off your lap, placing him on Din’s instead. After digging around in your pocket for some credits, you quickly stood up and sauntered over to the other side of the bar, leaning against the wooden counter as you waited for your turn to be served. It wasn’t too busy - there were a few people floating about. Locals, you figured. It was a slightly fancier part of Tatooine, and you could see the difference in the people who were frequenting the establishment.

You were trying not to think about Din, or the fact he still refused to talk about what was going on between the two of you. You’d long surpassed the point of no return for your friendship - no, you were too invested now. Either he had to prove he was in it for the long run, or you had to walk away. Was that an unfair ultimatum? Not really. He’d started it, after all.

‘What’s a pretty thing like you doing waiting for a drink?’

You glanced up to see a man beside you, a half-empty flagon of beer in his hand. He was tall, dark and handsome; the type you used to briefly date back on Corellia. He smelt of expensive aftershave, and his clothes gave the impression he was quite well-off.

‘I could ask you the same.’ You replied.

‘So you think I’m pretty?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at you.

‘No, I...I mean, yeahhhh.’ You turned to face him, offering him a smile.

‘You’re here with that Mandalorian.’ He glanced over his shoulder, before leaning a little closer towards you. ‘What’s his deal?’

‘Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.’ You snorted. ‘I don’t think he knows what his deal is.’

The conversation was completely innocent - after all, you had no intention of anything happening with whoever this guy was. And even if you did, weren’t you technically single? You certainly weren’t in a relationship, at least not according to Din Djarin. He had no standing ground, nor any right to be jealous.

Still, that didn’t stop his entire body filling with rage the minute the man put his hand on your arm, and it certainly didn’t stop him immediately packing up all your stuff to leave the bar. Even the notion of another man touching you made him want to scream - let alone the actual sight of it. It was the way your new friend leant in a little too close, and laughed a little too hard at your jokes. You were funny, but you weren’t that funny.

‘We’re leaving.’ Din declared, suddenly appearing beside you.

‘Okay.’ You shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘I’ll meet you back on the ship later.’

‘No, I mean we’re leaving.’

You snorted. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m staying right here- oof!’

You let out a small squeak as the Mandalorian grabbed you with his free arm, tossing you over his shoulder. Before you could protest, or even apologise to the man beside you, he was marching you out of the bar and into the cool evening air of Tatooine. All meanwhile, the baby was giggling at the site of you with your legs in the air and your face planted against Din’s back.

The ship wasn’t far - probably not more than a two minute walk. Din had been conscious of the Child’s little legs when he’d parked at the outpost; he was becoming more independent now and insisted on walking places himself. It was just that he could only walk for five minutes before getting tired, but the little sod would cry if you tried to carry him. He was lucky he was cute.

‘What the hell was that?’ You snapped, barely catching your balance as Din planed you on the floor of the ship.

‘That man was flirting with you.’ Din simply stated. ‘I didn’t like it.’

‘You...’ you trailed off. ‘You didn’t like it?’

‘He was overstepping his boundaries.’

‘You were jealous, weren’t you?’ You let out a derivative snort, folding your arms across your chest.

‘You knew I could see you.’ Din was still calm.

‘And? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, is it?’ You murmured.

‘That’s not-’

‘ - let me finish!’ You cut him off. ‘I have been trying for weeks to talk to you about it, to see where I stand with you, and you always change the subject or try to run away from it! You have no right to be jealous, or to act like I’m with you because you have made it abundantly clear that I am not. Your high horse is basically a shetland fucking pony, Din Djarin!’

There was a silence between you for a moment. It felt good to have finally said it - you just wished you’d been a bit more gentle. Din had never seen you shout before, or even come close to losing your temper. He knew it was bound to happen but he had never imagined it being at him. Then again, if you’d tried to pick him up and force him out the bar against his will, he would have been angry too. (The thought of you even trying it was rather comical).

‘I was scared.’

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting.

‘Of me?’ Your voice was quiet.

‘I’m in love with you.’ He said bluntly. ‘That terrifies me.’

‘I...fuck.’ You felt as though the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with whatever grey smoke the Crest spat out when the engines were broken. ‘I love you too - but why does it scare you?’

‘Because it means I can’t ever leave you.’ Din continued. ‘And I want to give you the life you deserve but I don’t know if I can. Not with my job, not with the things I’ve done.’

‘Din.’ You took a step forward, his large hands enveloping yours as you did. ‘D’you think I care about any of that?’

‘I was afraid to ask.’

‘No offence, but you can be a bit thick sometimes.’ A small chuckle escaped your lips, even if tears were forming in your eyes. ‘I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as I’m with you, then I have the life I want. That’s why I’ve been so off these last few weeks, because I was so scared you were going to turn around and push me away.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ He said. ‘I’m not going to leave you - you have my word. I promise.’

‘So why don’t we just stop being scared and start just...being together?’

He briefly stepped away, hitting the control panel to turn off the lights in the ship. His helmet hit the ground with a thud, and a moment later, his hands were on your hips as he pulled you towards him. Din crashed his lips onto yours, closing the gap between you with a desperate kiss. You’d kissed before - more times than you could even begin to count - but this one felt different. It had meaning; purpose, in fact. It was as though the last few months’ worth of feelings that the Mandalorian had been pushing aside had finally broken.

‘I love you, cyar'ika.’ He quietly murmured again. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry.’ You tearfully smiled, forehead still pressed against his. ‘And I love you too, even if you’re a bit of a dumbass sometimes.’

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you, dumbass.’ You quietly said.

‘Is that now your equivalent to cyar'ika?’

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mando x reader #mando imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x you #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian angst #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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The Vessel

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You realize you've made a mistake of selling a part of your body to a certain Witcher and his Mage, Yennefer, in return for a lumpsum of coins.

And now, you cannot back out. Instead, you're drowning knee deep into your developing feelings for Geralt of Rivia who belongs to her.

Warnings: Will have 18+ content, and will not follow the storyline, I know that Witchers are sterile but forced pregnancy.

[My Masterlist]

A/N- You can also find this fic on my AO3 by the same name, my account name is @slutforcavill.

Pt. 1

You stared at the happy couple, jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. You felt deflated, hurt and angry, but this was how it was. You were just a vessel, for the Witcher, and his lover, the Mage, Yennefer of Vengerberg. You kept watching them, from the corner of your eye, yet you kept a safe distance, lest either of them saw the tears spurting down your cheeks at the sight of them, laughing together— though technically she laughed, and he just grunted, but you could see the not so hidden amusement in his eyes.

It hurt, nonetheless—

If a month back, you knew this is what you would be feeling; one month down the line; you wouldn't have landed yourself into this mess of a situation, just for a pouch full of coin. You would have steered clear from a certain white haired man, eyes bright and somber like the shining sun, perhaps even brighter, and his woman, one of the most powerful mages you had come across.

If only, someone had warned you before—

It didn't help; the fact that you were already struggling to feed yourself, have three meals a day worth grain at your shack, that you called a home [back at Redania].

It all started when one day, Yennefer of Vengerberg, as she introduced herself, ended up at your doorstep, asking for your help, in return for a massive pouch full of coin.

Coin enough to last you for almost two years—

You found yourself lost in thoughts— when a month back, you were tending to your sheep, rearing enough wool so you could knit yourself a blanket warm enough to last the Winters. You didn't know where she came from; it was only later you found out that she was a mage, and she could use portals to go anywhere in the world. What you didn't understand then, and could not understand till date was why they chose you.

Maybe the Mage could feed on your desperation— knowing how badly you were looking for a steady job so the coin could keep flowing. And then, there was a fact that you were a virgin— not yet ruined by any man, and this was exactly what she was looking for.

"Can I help you?" You asked the woman, eyeing her from the corner of your eyes, your eyesight trailing over her richly clothed form. She looked divine and exotic, draped in rich princely colours, red and gold.

She looked right at you, her lips curling into a devious smile. She nodded to herself, although satisfied, and took her own sweet time to finally respond, "You can help me. And I can help you. I heard from the villagers that you are looking for work. Isn't that right?"

You nodded, placing the wool into a basket.

"Well then, I'm here to offer you a job."

A job she did offer, only you didn't know what to think of it. She sat there by a chair next to your fireplace [ that so obviously needed more wood ] , her left leg elegantly draped over her right leg, her posture poised and regal, her eyes scanning your face as it contorted into a series of emotions— shock, numbness, anger, hope.

The job that she so generously offered to you was the job of a vessel. What she wanted of you was your womb, a vessel that she could use to grow her child.

Hers and Geralt of Rivia's child—a spawn that was to be created of her magic.

Neither Geralt, nor Yennefer were fertile. They couldn't conceive, biologically, but magically, this was possible. Yennefer told you everything— how she could finally become a mother, a yearning she had buried into the pit of her heart ever since she had buried the little princess, Queen Kalis' daughter, into the sand that day.

It wasn't until she met the white haired man, and an attraction flared, did her desperation for a babe began strumming into her heart. And she passed on this desire of hers to her lover, like a contagious disease until the two of them wanted nothing more than to bring a babbling young half Witcher half Mage into the world.

Her spell, although, could fertilize the Witcher's seed, turning him potent for this once, however, it wasn't enough to turn her own barren womb into a vessel that could carry their child. They needed a woman, a human— untouched— so Geralt could ruin her, and she could give them what they desired.

Yennefer also knew that no woman would agree to this, unless she offered something of value.

It was easy for you to agree.

Neither did you have a family, nor a lover. Besides, an opportunity had walked up to your door yourself, and you couldn't push it away.

But now, a month later, you regretted it.

When you saw them together, and it felt like your heart was being sliced through, slowly— torturing and burning you from the inside.

“Behold, what a fine view you have here, don’t they look beautiful together?” Jaskier was the first one to have decided to intrude into your private space, so suddenly, you were forced to pull your gaze away from the two of them, and crane your neck to your side so you could subtly wipe your tears away.

“Define beauty, Jaskier.” You grumbled under your breath your words barely audible, and you felt the Bard sit down next to you, his arm now brushing against yours as he swallowed a mouthful of ale before turning his head towards you.

“Like.. my songs? Although, they’re much beautiful than those two over there,” he almost began, but you cut him off abruptly, pushing yourself up to your feet, looking down at him.

“Can we not talk about this, Jas’? I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what, [Y/N]? Sit in a corner and cry a river like you were doing a few seconds back? Don’t think the bard a dumb brute, I see things.”

Your lips parted in surprise. He had caught you. You sheepishly blinked, running your hand absentmindedly through your hair, shaking your head as you denied it, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed, but didn't make an attempt to stand up. Instead, you watched him sit back, trying to get more comfortable as a smile broke out against his lips, "If I were you, I'd tell him how I really feel. Now I know you've got competition, a pretty fierce one, might I add, but what's the fun if you get everything handed to you in a silver platter, and you don't have to work for it?"

"Jas—"

You had barely begun speaking when a fight broke out in the tavern, between two men that you didn't know, right across from where you were seated, and Jaskier's attention was flung away. You watched, in exasperation, as he began cheering all of a sudden, and Geralt, a few tables away, clenched his fists and pursed his lips in annoyance, leaning and whispering something into her ears.

You watched as the beautiful mage slowly rose from her place, and fixed her gaze on you until she was on her way to where you were.

"How are you feeling, little pet?" She raised an eyebrow, and you bit your lip, almost too hard, the taste of metal strong against your taste buds. Oh, how you fought the urge to bark at her and send her back to her beloved, who had his eyes, unmoving, on the two of you.

"Fine." You muttered, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at her.

You didn't understand why you hated this woman.

No, you did— but you didn't want to acknowledge it— it was because of a certain white haired man, who still had his gaze stilled on you, and you couldn't help but feel like your insides were on fire aching for his touch. You wondered how one look from him was enough to weaken your resolve, what would you do if the man ever brushed his hand against you, or even breathed in a close proximity as the Mage was now in?

Stop thinking about this, [Y/N]. He isn't yours to think of.

"Come on, it's time we keep moving, can't afford to waste two hours as the Sun's already up."

You blinked, cursing yourself for feeling so flustered but what could you do? This was the first time you had heard the Witcher say more words than the occasional hums and grunts directed towards you.

You and Yennefer began walking out of the tavern, Jaskier following the two of you, while Geralt was ahead of the two of you, as you began continuing your journey to the Great Mount in Aedirn, a journey you had been on with them now for over thirty days.

For once, you couldn't stop your racing heart from thinking of what was going to happen between you and the White haired man once you reached this Mount.

#geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x y/n

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Emma Swan, Olympian is not a phrase Emma Swan, totally normal person, ever expected to hear.

But she never expected one night at a party hosted by her college's baseball team to change her entire life, either. So, it should really come as no surprise that Emma Swan, Olympian, is now something of international sensation. Or that her husband has become a bit of a social media star.

——— Rating: Teen with sports feelings Word Count: 7.5K AN: As promised and because of who I am as a person, I wrote Olympic fic. I can neither confirm nor deny that there is an actual plot here, but there is a surplus of fluff and sports-based feelings. So, that’s something. Thanks to the Detroit Lions, specifically, for posting this Tweet and to my husband who is very much aware of what content I want the internet to provide me. Operation: Make Killian a New York Yankee as often as possible continues.

|| Read on Ao3 if that’s your jam ||

———

No one told her the questions would start to blur together.

That would require media training, Emma imagines. And no one is giving a first-time Olympian in a sport that only a handful of people marginally believe warrants notice from the IOC any sort of media training. She got, like, an orientation packet. With a lopsided staple in the top left corner. On her commercial flight. That she booked herself.

Twenty-plus hours crammed into a seat that she’s only a little concerned did permanent damage to her right knee, with a meal that was so chewy Emma was about four seconds and one exasperated, entirely exhausted exhale from asking if it was, in fact, made of plastic.

Mostly, the staple is what’s still managing to frustrate her. As frustrated as she can be at the Olympics. No one is supposed to be frustrated at the Olympics. Not really. Not while experiencing the pinnacle of athletic achievement, the calluses on Emma’s fingertips some sort of badge of honor that she’s wearing with at least a modicum of national pride, and everything is fine.

Her qualifying time was absurd. Where absurd is a compliment and very close to a record she’s suddenly determined to shatter.

So, she’s alone.

Big deal. So is everyone else. This Olympics, at least. Plus, Killian wouldn’t have been able to come no matter what the state of the world was. Even so, the quiet stands are admittedly weird. All these empty arenas with empty seats, the distinct lack of a roaring crowd no more obvious than when the world’s best athletes step to the line. Staring at the climbing wall in front of her four hours earlier, Emma swore she could hear every single beat of her heart echo between her ears.

And that’s—well, solitude is par for the course with an adolescence like hers, half-filled suitcases and brand-new faces in brand-new towns, but she’d gotten used to one town, and the town is actually a city, and the city has long since felt like home, and her fingers reach for the rings dangling above her Team USA t-shirt. They did give her an absolute shit ton of t-shirts, so that was nice.

Except—

Something keeps tugging. Nagging at the back of Emma’s consciousness, almost like she’s forgotten her keys on that flea market table they found in Park Slope two weeks after they moved into the apartment. Because for as well-versed Emma may be in that singular sort of existence, she’s also well-removed from wanting it, and at least three of her knuckles crack. Curling around her rings.

Muscles in her cheeks stretch, another nod and quick blink to avoid the threat of blinding via camera flashes. Someone really should have told her about this. She probably should have assumed. Human interest is the driving force of at least three-quarters of the stories in sports, and Emma’s not used to being the story, per se, but even she has to admit most of hers makes for a good one and they are still asking her questions.

Emma blinks again. Hopes she doesn’t look like a serial killer or the weird blonde, slightly sweaty cousin of the Joker, her smile starting to feel as if it’s painted on her face. She nods. Hums. Listens to questions that are startling in their tonal similarity to Charlie Brown’s teacher, and Emma wonders if Charlie Brown ever got a different teacher or what the school structure of the Peanuts’ universe is and, God, how old was Charlie Brown, even? To withstand that sort of consistent bullying. Was Linus the same age as him? No, right? How long did he carry the blanket around? Was Linus the same age as Sally? Why didn’t the red-headed girl with curly hair get a name?

She nearly falls out of her chair.

That might make the front page of several blogs. Possibly even the back page of a New York tab.

Careful to keep her feet on the ground, Emma lifts her head, directing her eyes toward the source of a question that must have been asked several times if the note of amusement mixing with deadline-based exasperation is anything to go by. Her smile definitely makes her look like a serial killer.

“Sorry, sorry,” Emma mumbles, and none of the oxygen she does her best to inhales makes it even close to her lungs. “I, uh—what was the question?”

The reporter grimaces.

“I wanted to know if you’d seen the video of your husband yet.”

Ice runs down her spine. Every single drop of wholly disgusting sweat falling in rivulets down either one of her cheeks freezes. Oxygen disappears from the room. Or so Emma assumes, what with the crushing feeling pushing down on her lungs and whatnot.

Her mind whirs. Races through possibilities and pitfalls with a speed that would be impressive if Emma weren’t already so close to that record, and she is going to break that record. Somehow she manages not to fall, though. From her chair or the metaphorical climbing wall in her brain, ignoring the sudden dryness of her mouth and the increasing size of her tongue.

Her nails are going to leave little half-moon creases in her palm.

“I don’t—” she starts, and eventually she will wish she was more articulate. For what turns out to be a very nice story.

Standing up, the reporter’s seat creaks as she moves toward the desk they deposited Emma behind after even. Several Olympic officials move to block her, but Emma shakes her head again, and she’s not exactly high-priority on the list of defensible athletes, anyway. So, none of them flinch when the reporter slides a phone closer to Emma, her crazed thoughts briefly lingering on how many phones a reporter could possibly need, but then her eyes drop, and she’s not sure if her ears can actually perk, but Emma certainly tries because she hears him yelling before she sees him.

Her smile shifts.

And the cameras flash again.

It starts, as with most things in Emma’s collegiate life, because Anna demands it.

She’s only half-listening, so Emma can never be entirely sure what it was, exactly, she was agreeing to, but in her experience, the agreement doesn’t matter so much as the action, and her roommate’s younger sister is unstoppable when it comes to action. So, Emma is dimly aware of a plan. Something about the baseball house and that one left fielder is in a handful of her classes.

David—something.

He’s got a girlfriend, too. A nice one. Who always smells like sugar when she slides into the seat next to David whatever his last name is, sitting in the row in front of Emma during their Tuesday-Thursday statistics class.

Emma hates statistics.

She doesn’t hate Anna, though. Or her roommate, one of the better college-based surprises, and either Anna has magic or Elsa is an enormous pushover because somehow all three of them are ready at the same time, and the walk to the baseball house isn’t far.

First-year players guard the door — passing out color-coded wristbands that absolutely do not do their job because it takes about six seconds of well-meaning flirting and batted eyelashes between Anna and a mountain of muscle masquerading as the team’s starting catcher to get them inside. With purple wristbands and two tickets for jungle juice instead of the keg.

“Victory,” Anna cries, twisting through the crowd. Half of it is already teetering on the edge of drunk, the rest free-falling into the pit of imminent hangovers, and Emma isn’t sure she’d classify their drinks as a victory, but it’s definitely better than watered-down beer.

And it doesn’t take long, really. By Emma’s shaky count, it’s not even a half-hour before the muscle — who introduces himself as Kristoff, and really is pretty cute, actually — returns, standing unnaturally close to Anna’s left shoulder, furtive glances shared out of the corners of their eyes. Emma rolls hers. Elsa’s appear perpetually stuck to the ceiling. It looks oddly sticky up there.

“Go,” Elsa says, and it’s not an instruction. Barely counts as more than a whisper, really. Anna lights up all the same. Like an alcohol-fueled Christmas tree.

Who does not need telling more than once.

Hands reach and smiles widen, Kristoff mumbling something that sounds like it was nice to meet you before he’s following Anna back to the beer pong table, leaving Elsa and Emma standing in the middle of a sea of raging hormones. All of which want to be there way more than either one of them does.

“Well,” Elsa mutters, “that was polite.”

Emma snickers into her glass. A mostly empty glass. That’s surprising. “Got that going for him.” “Plus, his on-base is nuts this year.”

“Say that again.” “On-base percentage,” Elsa repeats, making sure to do it slowly for maximum sarcastic emphasis. Emma’s eyes are going to fall out. That won’t end well. There are too many shuffling feet in this room.

“What does that mean?” “How often he gets on base.” Opening her mouth does nothing. Closing it does even less. Elsa looks overjoyed. “I know things,” she shrugs, “and I’m pretty positive Anna and Kristoff have been not-so-secretly dating since the start of the semester, so—” “You stalked your sister’s secret boyfriend?” “Stalk’s a very dirty word, don’t you think? No, no, there was no stalking. There was light research. One Google search and a single click to the team’s roster, and now I know he’s from Minnesota, too.” “Awfully convenient for the romance of the century.” Humming, Elsa takes a larger-than-usual sip before scrunching her nose in displeasure. At her empty cup. Emma has no idea how they ended up with empty cups so quickly. Suddenly the baseball house feels a bit like a time warp. Enter and drink and find the love of your life. Or something like that.

“I got next,” Emma says, ignoring Elsa’s laugh because she is not the sort of person who says things like that. It’s this house. This place. With its music and its happiness, and she’s not really a sports person. Can only marginally understand the joy of watching other people accomplish something. She has no idea what on-base percentage is.

Still.

Her feet move. Fingers curl over the rim of red solo cups, like the most cliché version of her college self. Her drinks get refilled. And it’s just as Emma’s about to let herself wonder if, maybe, sports aren’t all that bad and might even possess a bit of inherent romanticism, she slams into something.

Someone, more like.

Taller than her, he has to peer down his nose to glare at Emma. That’s fair. They’re both far more damp than they were ten seconds before. Some of that moisture ensures that the hem of his shirt sticks to his stomach. A very flat stomach. That draws Emma’s eyes because she’s human and slightly intoxicated, and it takes quite a lot more than she’s willing to admit to lift her chin, but then she’s glad she does. Even with the understandable glare.

“Shit,” she breathes, “your eyes are stupid blue.”

He narrows them. She hates that. Which is about all it takes for her to get royally pissed off, too.

“Can you pay attention to where you’re walking?”

The stupidly blue eyes blink. Darken a shade, like all his frustration is centered directly around his pupils, and the shirt he’s wearing is team-branded. Another baseball player, then.

“You ran into me!” Oh, Oh. Well, that sucks. He’s got a good voice, too. Eyes and voice and the few strands of hair that fall toward those eyes when he continues to glare at Emma likely aren’t supposed to make her stomach flip.

It’s the alcohol’s fault.

Or sports. Like, in general.

“Because you take up so much space,” Emma snarls He leans forward. Looms, really. Over her and around her, smelling like punch and body wash. It’s gross and absolutely wonderful. “Gotta pick a lane, love. Either I ran into you, or I was in the way.”

“It can definitely be both and there is nothing resembling love here.”

“So I can see. You have a name, wrecking ball?” “My shoes are never going to unstick from this floor.” To his credit, he does waver. His lips twist — which makes it all too obvious how much Emma is staring at his lips, but, seriously, the alcohol. Plus, it’s so hot in this house she can barely think straight. She wonders where he buys his body wash. He smells better than he should in this house. So, it's clear he considers. Ponders, even. Until his hands dart out and those hands are somehow warmer than every person in this house combined, heat scorching through Emma’s t-shirt as he lifts her off the ground.

Only to deposit her approximately fourteen inches to her left.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” “Look,” he grins, “you’re unstuck.” “Bastard!” “Eh, not technically.” “What?” “Not technically a bastard. Orphan, I suppose. But that’s kind of a mood ruiner, don’t you think?”

Emma’s fish impression is really going great. The grin becomes a smirk. Her stomach refuses to stay still. “Is there a mood to ruin?” “Might be if you tell me your name.”

Emma wavers, that time. Considers and ponders. Weighs the pros and cons while laughter drifts past her ears, consummate collegiate experiences that she’s only ever let herself be passably jealous of. A dark-haired girl’s talking to Elsa in the opposite corner.

And the hand hanging in front of her wiggles its fingers.

It’s still ridiculously warm when she grabs it. “Emma Swan.” “Killian Jones.”

Anna’s secret relationship becomes a real relationship no less than sixteen hours following what Elsa begins to call the Drink Incident.

And they become—

Baseball people.

Becoming baseball people is not bad. Not really. Emma likes the baseball team. She understands what WHIP is, now. Kristoff adores Anna, so that’s good. David, who does, in fact, have a last name, continues to be as nice as assumed, and his girlfriend sort of quasi adopts Emma. Mary Margaret Blanchard brims with positivity and an innate sort of joy that would usually annoy Emma, but most of that joy also serves as a direct counter to the snark that Killian Jones appears flush with. So, it’s something of a wash, really.

Plus, he’s a very sore Monopoly loser.

And Emma finds it endlessly entertaining.

“Stop that,” he grunts, glaring at the board with the sort of force Emma’s become accustomed to in the last few months, while she taps on the space in front of her, “I know how many spots it is.” Emma smiles. “So move, then.” “I’ll be bankrupt.” “Capitalism does that.” “Tell me more about capitalism, Swan.”

She doesn’t startle, so there’s that. Not much else, though. Not when a noticeable bit of equally familiar heat skitters down her spine. Her head tilts. His head remains frustratingly still, staring at the board like the spaces will change or Mary Margaret will tear down some of her hotels on Marvin Gardens.

Neither thing happens.

The heat pools. At the small of her back, inching dangerously close to that space between her hips, like it’s trying to tether her to this spot and this moment and its people. Baseball people. People who so clearly care about everything so much that even the cynic in Emma can appreciate it. Plus, they’re all ridiculously competitive.

David had to take a walk when Mary Margaret bankrupt him earlier.

“That’s about the extent of my capitalism knowledge,” Emma admits with a shrug, “I sucked at economics.” Pulling his gaze away from the board, Emma’s less prepared for the force behind Killian’s eyes than she was for the appearance of a nickname that might not warrant the title. It’s just her name, after all. But it sounds like more than that. Sinks under her skin with alarming ease, the precise tone of it wrapping its way around a variety of internal organs until they’re all beating at the same tempo and— “Move my piece for me.”

Kristoff groans. Mary Margaret chuckles. Elsa looks far too sure of herself. Knows everything, indeed.

And it’s not really a command, but there’s that same sense of something that found its way into the sound of Emma’s name and Killian’s voice, and he catches her by surprise. On a variety of levels. His fingers jump the moment hers reach out, all heat and an alarming size difference, his brows lifting when she turns her head.

“You’re taking this game way too seriously, you know,” Emma says. What she doesn’t say is more important, though. Because they’re not friends, really. They’re—acquaintances. Some kind of appropriate metaphor regarding a planet’s many moons and the tendency of those moons to orbit something far bigger than them. But they like each other, too. As much as they dance and twist, do their best to avoid getting hit in the batter’s box, Emma’s more comfortable bantering with him than just about anyone she’s ever met, a challenge in every conversation, and she’s rather loath to realize she’s memorized the different ways the blue in his eyes flash.

Now it feels a bit like a spotlight.

“Matter of pride, Swan.” “Is it just?” If there are other people laying on their stomachs in that living room, half-empty glasses by their hands and equipment stacked in various corners, Emma forgets about them. Quickly. Immediately. Killian doesn’t move his fingers.

He nods.

And Mary Marget only kind of gloats when she bankrupts him.

She dances when she wins, though.

It’s embarrassing. It’s absolutely, goddamn wonderful.

Realizing that baseball is a game of statistics ruins kind of Emma’s day. It makes Killian laugh. Her favorite sort of laugh. Where he throws his head back, an arm around his middle, and his shoulders shaking. Those same strands of hair she noticed that first night fall back toward lidded eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting in an angle Emma is sure she could determine if she just didn’t hate math so much, and it takes about four seconds, her head tilting back and forth twice and one swipe of her tongue to lean forward on the couch they're sharing, tilt her head up and press her lips to his.

Press is a vast understatement.

Crash, more like.

A bases-clearing double into the left-field gap.

She knows so many baseball terms now, it’s ridiculous.

It’s because she keeps going to games. With Anna. Without Anna. With Elsa. Without Elsa. With Mary Margaret every single time. And it creeps on so slowly, she’s practically a Jane Austen heroine, but then Emma finds she cares as much as everyone else. Screams herself hoarse at every crack of the bat. Jumps and fist bumps with startling regularity. Experiences the flutter of butterflies in her flip-prone stomach before ninth-inning rallies.

She memorizes statistics. Killian’s statistics, especially.

Because the Draft is a week away, and the nerves rolling off him are even more potent than his body wash. Bought in bulk from a locally-owned company, she learns.

Killian hates capitalism, too.

Which is only part of the reason she likes him, but right now all of the reason is centered around how it feels as if the world is shifting on its axis and what, precisely, he is capable of with his tongue. Quite a lot if this first time at bat is anything to believe.

Emma laughs.

Joy bubbles from the very center of her, pushing at the seam of her lips, and it’s not much of a seam when her mouth is open to accommodate tongue, but it’s enough of a sound that Killian pulls back. No glare. Definitely eyebrow movement, though.

“That’s not the best confidence boost, you know.” “I’m straddling you,” Emma counters, nodding toward the knees on either side of his, and she has no idea when her fingers found his hair. It’s very soft.

“How did that happen?” “What was that about confidence?”

Dropping his head, she gets a different sort of laugh, one that’s just as potent in its ability to settle into her bloodstream and the empty spaces around her heart, and sports have turned her into a sap. “I like you a lot,” Killian murmurs. Emma’s heart explodes. Metaphorically speaking.

“Good.” “Expand on that, for me.” She pinches his side, almost prepared for the way it leaves him bucking beneath her. Less prepared for the mutual groan it causes. Killian’s eyes widen. “I like you a lot,” Emma repeats, and his arms tighten, and her heart knits itself back together, and the second time through the kissing order is even better.

It starts, as with most things in Emma’s nearly-adult life, because Anna demands it.

“I just think it’ll be fun,” Anna says, not for the first time. And, not for the first time, she ignores the pointed look Emma and Elsa exchange. Elsa’s lips have all but disappeared behind her teeth “Think about it,” Anna continues, “we need something to do before the game, anyway. This way we’re—you know, staying active.” Emma’s eyebrows jump. Fly. Soar into her hairline where the level of her disbelief sits, all too aware of the ring hanging around her neck.

A Draft Day gift. As much as a family heirloom can be a gift. But Killian claimed it was good luck, his brother’s ring, because turns out that snark is at least a partial product of a wholly depressing childhood, and Emma supposes there’s something to be said for common ground. Understanding, too. Stories shared over weeks that turned to months that turned to years and seasons in the minors, and it absolutely figures Killian’s Major League debut is happening in Cincinnati. Where Kristoff plays.

It’s ridiculous how in love with him she is.

Killian. Not Kristoff.

Anna is still talking. “There’s nothing else to do in Cincinnati,” she reasons, which seems unfair to the city itself but not entirely untrue, and even the concept of chili on spaghetti grosses Emma out. “Also,” Anna adds, sounding as if she’s reached the final bullet point on her list of possible arguments, “I’ve got a Groupon deal for this place.”

Elsa blinks. “I didn’t realize Groupon was even still a thing.” “Surprise!”

Emma’s laugh isn’t entirely honest, but her sigh of acceptance is and—

Turns out she’s pretty good at it.

Goddamn fantastic, actually.

At rock climbing. Indoor rock climbing. Her feet push her up the wall with ease, the steady ache in her arms welcome and wonderful and a slew of other alliterative adjectives. That leave Killian grinning like a maniac, but it’s been a weird and equally wonderful day, without a hit, but two walks, so that ups the on-base, and Emma’s really, seriously in love with him.

“I don’t know what it was,” she says, preening just a bit under Killian’s stare. Hotel lighting casts shadows on his cheeks, slumped as he is against every pillow they could find. Even the ones in the closet. He’s not supposed to be in here for much longer, both of them aware of the team-ordained curfew hanging over them, but the pre-game nerves are long gone. Replaced instead with exhilaration and endorphins, the kind that could win Elle Woods a headline-making case. “But,” Emma continues, “I just kept moving, and the guy said it was, like, a course record. Is course the right word, you think?” Killian lifts a shoulder. Even as it’s covered in ice and tape. The play he made at third is going to show on loop. On TV. In Emma’s memory. She’s never yelled that loud before.

People took pictures.

And then she cried. Like a giant sap.

“This is your show, Swan,” Killian chuckles, pride infusing the words. As if she’s the one who deserves the pride today. It’s entirely possible she cried for multiple minutes after that play. They definitely showed that on the YES Network. Mary Margaret texted her no less than forty-seven times.

“I was really fast.” Killian hums, fingers fluttering enough to make it clear he wants her closer. Emma doesn’t argue. They’re a mess of limbs and mouths and that tongue thing they’ve collectively gotten better at giving and receiving over the years, hands that warm with the sort of confidence borne of repetition. Some joke about BP and finding your swing.

“Plus,” he says, a soft laugh at Emma’s noise of displeasure when talking means far less kissing, “becoming a rock climbing savant means more upper-body work, and you know how I love your arms.” Guffawing the way Emma does is not particularly romantic. Doesn’t matter. The sound comes, and the joy remains, a steady stream pumping through all her extremities and clouding her thoughts. In the best way possible. Before Killian, Emma didn’t know this could be that. Fun and easy, not quite simple, but something she’s willing to work for. Athletes are notoriously determined, after all.

Part of her wonders if a proclivity to rock climbing makes her an athlete, too.

“Please,” she says, laughter clinging to the letters even as she finds herself moved directly over Killian’s outstretched legs, “provide, in detail, everything you enjoy about my arms.” “I didn’t say enjoy.” “Were you misquoted, Jones?” His eyes flash. Glow, honestly. At her and because of her and athletes also know how to work their opponents. Goad them into making mistakes. Something about a pitcher’s duel and a battle in the box. Where the box is this bed. And Emma’s winning.

“I love your arms,” Killian says. Dragging his mouth against the column of her throat leaves goosebumps on Emma’s skin. Her back arches. His hand flattens. The compliments continue. Turn into promises. Guarantees. Of a future that’s spread out at their feet now, if only they reach for it.

Turns out Emma’s pretty good at reaching for things. When she wants them.

“This isn’t, like, free-scale, though, is it?”

Her heart cannot be expected to handle much more of this.

“Don’t worry,” Emma says, “all proper safety precautions were taken. Plus, I wouldn’t fall off the wall.”

Killian’s expression shutters. Not in any of that frustration Emma so clearly understood when his shirt was damp, and her shoes were unsalvagable despite his best efforts to get the school’s equipment manager to dry-clean them. No, it’s—it’s something big and important and unspoken, and Emma pulls his hand up. To rest directly over the rink that’s still tucked beneath her t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

It’s got his last number on it, at least.

“Would you catch me if I fell off the wall?” He doesn’t answer at first. Doesn’t mention the absurdity of a question that does not make sense, but those literal and metaphorical clock hands are ticking, and if they don’t replace his ice soon, they’re going to destroy these sheets. “Every single time, Swan.” “Right back at you.”

Killian doesn’t miss curfew, but it’s pretty close.

And Emma wakes up to twelve texts with links for indoor rock climbing gyms in the greater New York City area.

“Holy shit, this is hard.”

Grunting more than laughing, Emma’s fingers curl around the rock in front of her. Chalk cakes itself on the pads of those fingers, stuck beneath her nails and, somehow, the bend of her elbow. “Are you not an All-Star?” she asks, glancing at Killian.

“I do not see how that factors into this at all.”

“Huh, weird.” “Suspiciously sounds like an accusation.” “Weird,” Emma repeats. They’re halfway up a wall only one of them is really supposed to be on, but the other person several feet below them is faring far worse than the pair of them combined, so, that takes precedence in her mind. “He knows a lot more curse words than I realized.” “He’s showing off,” Killian grumbles, forehead resting against the wall.

Will Scarlet hasn’t moved in five minutes. Possibly six. Maybe a round ten. He's much better at second base.

“I cannot feel my arms,” he calls, and Emma’s laugh is better that time. Purer, somehow. As if happiness can actually have a sound. Even happiness that comes with sweat on her temple and a noticeable ache in her triceps and she sort of loves this.

Sort of is a vast understatement.

“Showing off, huh?” Emma asks. She finds her next footfall with ease, happiness blooming into confidence that’s become nearly consistent these days and weeks and years. It does not take her long to feel the stare that’s lingering on her. On her ass, specifically.

She glances over her shoulder. To find her fiancé smiling at her. And staring at her ass.

“Can I help you, love?” “Whatcha doing?” “Ogling you, obviously.” “Forearms feeling good?” He nods. Sort of. There’s a distinct slope to the back of his neck and more sweat on his brown than Emma’s. Not as much as Scarlet’s, probably. “Fantastic,” Killian drawls, “keep going, Swan, someone’s got to show us how to do it.” “Try not to fall off the wall, huh? Last thing we need is the might of the Yankees front office coming after us.” “I don’t think I can move my hands,” Will shouts. Killian doesn’t move. It’s impressive forearm strength. Blushing on the wall is not usually how Emma’s days go.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Killian promises, and Emma moves. He follows her. Up the wall and to the top, a quick brush of his lips against her shoulder that leaves Scarlet cursing even more, despite his presence on the floor, but then there’s lemon-flavored water and exceptionally soft towels and Emma’s caught a bit off guard by the question.

“Are there leagues for this?” Will asks. “Because you should probably be winning things for this.” Emma blinks. Considers. Wonders. Turns to Killian.

He’s still smiling. Broadly, in fact.

“We could look.” They do. They fill out paperwork. Buy fancy climbing shoes that Emma claims cost too much, but Killian’s a pushover and even more stubborn and she wins the first race she signs up for.

Plus, ten more after that.

Emma climbs indoor rock walls. Killian hits home runs. Occasionally they do these things simultaneously, and it usually leads to her nearly falling off the wall because everyone in her Tribeca gym knows what it means when WFAN is playing on the speakers.

Sometimes they shout out John Sterling’s home run call with him.

She gets better. He gets better.

They do end up destroying sheets in various hotels across the country. For various reasons. Not all of them post-game or ice related. There are games and events. Wins and losses. Back page spreads that Emma frames and hangs on their apartment walls, right next to other, smaller frames, with the same smiling faces who, once upon a time, called a sticky-floored baseball house home, and Killian’s fingers are warm in hers when the tears prick her eyes at Anna and Kristoff’s wedding.

There are stories. Think pieces and hot takes on a variety of drive-time radio shows. Those are all about Killian, though. He’s the athlete. The true one, some stories say. It’s impressive what Emma does, they admit, but it’s a hobby, and she’s got a grown-up career, anyway. So, she’s got more climbing records than she knew ever existed, but she’s not doing it for press, and both Mary Margaret and Anna weep at her and Killian’s wedding.

She wears her ring on a chain next to her other one when she climbs.

Every time Killian notices them hanging there, Emma swears, his eyes brighten. It’s her favorite thing in the whole, goddamn world.

“What is this?” He doesn’t answer. Just holds the sheet of paper he must have printed out in the clubhouse because they certainly don’t have a printer at home, and one of the edges is bent. Like he had to fit it in his back pocket.

“Going the stoic route, huh?” Emma quips, but there’s a noticeable hitch in her pulse. One that’s been there for weeks. Since the rumblings started, and the rumors began, whispers of possibility, and first-ever has a very nice ring to it. One side of Killian’s mouth tugs up. “Oh, that’s not fair.” “I’d like the record to show, that the only reason I didn’t know immediately was because I was in the trainer’s room, so—” “What were you in the trainer’s room for?” Killian ignores her. Well, sort of. His eyes shift, and his gaze holds, and Emma knows. Right down in the marrow of her. What the paper is and how Scarlet is the one who printed it out, but she’s even more confident Killian carried it home, and that does something funny to her entire worldview. Widens it and minimizes it at the same time, focusing on this and them and the possibility that creates.

In an athletic sort of way.

“My shoulder’s kind of sore.” Emma scoffs. “Oh, that’s pointed.” “I’m sure your shoulders are fine. Golden, even.’ “This is not your best work, you know that?” “Look at the paper.” “Did you fold it yourself?” “And then took a car back home. You really didn’t see yet?” Emma shakes her head. He knows the answer, too. He’s the one with the Google alert, after all. Because she’s still a bit of a pessimist at heart and an adult with a real job, and this is too much and abjectly terrifying, and the last thing she expects is for Killian to crouch in front of her.

One of his knees cracks.

“Don’t,” he warns, even as Emma does her best to swallow her laugh. Warm hands land on her thighs, a quiet steadiness that helps the state of her pulse and makes the possibility of the unknown a little less overwhelming. The lines crossing the center of the paper are absurdly straight. “You’re going to go.” “Oh, that sounded like a decree.” “A suggestion.” “A strong one.” “Mmhm, with the utmost confidence.” Emma makes an impressive sound. “Who’s doing your media training? What an impressive vocabulary you’ve got on you.” “Ready and willing to use it in a persuasive manner.” “Keep talking like that, and you won’t have to.” The smirk disappears. Evolves into a grin that is only Emma’s and only appears in moments like this, support clinging to air molecules and the ends of hair that constantly seems determined to fall into Killian’s eyes. “Passed, huh? All cool with the IOC.” “Decidedly cool. Officially an Olympic sport, now. Although the name could use some work. Sport climbing lacks a little oomph, don’t you think?”

“What would you call it?” “Emma Swan wins Olympic gold.” “Kinda wordy.” “Prophetic,” Killian corrects, hands shifting and pulling, and Emma has to widen her legs. His head’s at a very good kissing angle. “You’ve already got the qualifying numbers.” “You looked at the qualifying numbers?” “Don’t insult me like that. What do you think I did in the backseat?” “Planned the entire 2020 Olympics, apparently.” “Not the entire Olympics,” Killian counters, "just the part involving you. And maybe my individual expectations regarding the United States baseball team, but that’s another conversation altogether.”

“Naturally.”

“You’re using that voice.”

Widening her eyes does nothing. Emma didn’t expect it to. Not after years and games and events because rock climbing has events, and one time Mary Margaret made her a sign. Killian held it. He’s taller, that’s why.

“Don’t,” Killian repeats, “this is happening.” “Yuh-huh?” “You heard me. It’s your turn, now.” Melting is an impossibility. Like, for a human. Even so. Emma feels like she’s melting. Some of that pessimism evaporating under the warmth of Killian’s gaze and his hands and the determination in the precise angle of his chin. Same one he uses when he steps into the box with runners in scoring position.

Lumping herself into that group isn’t as insulting as Emma once believed it would be.

“God,” Emma groans, “that’s romantic.” “You’re really selling it, love.”

“This is supposed to be a hobby.” “One you’re exceedingly good it. World record good at it.” “I like you.” “That’s my end game, yeah.” She laughs. Smiles. Continues melting. Which is easier once they get rid of their clothing, and their bed is way more comfortable than any hotel they’ve encountered. And she falls asleep with Killian’s lips against her ear, Emma Swan, Olympic gold medalist whispered on loop like it’s a mantra he’s been practicing.

They postpone the Olympics.

It sucks. Everything sucks. Baseball sucks. Gyms are closed. Emma gets creative, and Killian gets research-prone. They build a makeshift wall. She tosses him BP.

People write stories about it.

It doesn’t help.

Until—

Time passes. Some things change. Others don’t. Their wall stands up to the elements of their building’s courtyard, and Killian’s hitting better than ever this season, a victory Emma’s going to claim as at least partially hers. And then the Olympics are back, and it’s qualifying and racing and a record that’s just out of reach, but she’s good enough even without it, and, this time, she’s the one packing a suitcase.

He kisses her.

Does the tongue thing.

Holds onto her like he’s only a little afraid she’s going to fall off the wall, but now the wall is international competition, and Emma’s freaking out a little.

“I love you,” she says into the crook of his neck.

His arms tighten. “I love you too.” “Gold medal?” “Gold medal.” “Hit some home runs while I’m gone, huh?” Lips graze her temple. Her forehead. The bridge of her nose. Emma might be crying, and Mary Margaret’s definitely recording, a small mob of red white, and blue surrounding them. “I’ll see what I can do,” Killian promises.

“Good.”

He hits three before her first qualifying round. So, Emma takes that as a challenge. She’s an athlete now.

It’s why, she figures, her fingers don’t slip on her first run.

Her feet are sure. Her breathing is steady. There’s no one cheering her name, but she’s long since memorized the exact way Killian’s voice lifts above a crowd. How he pushes up on his toes to watch, as if standing up taller makes sure he’s closer to her. Should she need him when she falls off the wall. Only, Emma doesn’t fall, and she’s got no intention of ever falling and—

Her laugh shudders out of her in a watery sort of way that makes the journalist still standing in front of her flinch ever so slightly. Twitter makes sure the video starts playing again as soon as it finishes, which is somehow the best and worst thing that has ever happened to her. Best because, well, Emma’s honestly not sure she’s ever seen her husband like this.

Worst because she’s very nearly goddamn crying. Again.

Bobbing on the balls of his feet in front of his locker, whoever’s recording the video — it’s Scarlet, obviously — is practically frenzied behind the camera, barely able to contain their laughter. Killian doesn’t notice. He’s holding his own phone, all five of his free fingers firmly entrenched in the back of his hair. It’s gotten softer with age, Emma thinks.

She can’t stop watching him.

Every inhale is a clear struggle, the bobbing turning into pacing and quiet mumbling she can hear perfectly. As if she’s standing right in front of him.

Or at least slightly to the side. So as not to stand on the logo in the middle of the clubhouse.

Athletes are notoriously superstitious, too.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Killian chants, another noticeable snicker from Scarlet, “right there, right there, and pull, pull—Swan, pull up!”

“I did pull up there,” Emma mumbles. To the reporter, maybe. Or the world. Possibly her husband. Who was definitely more nervous about the first run than her.

God, that’s romantic.

Killian’s still talking. Shouting, more like. It’s a miracle Scarlet hasn’t fallen over yet.

“Faster, faster, you can go faster than that, Swan—” Emma clicks her tongue. “That’s kind of insulting.”

There’s an appropriate titter of laughter from the peanut gallery, which is a joke she was not trying to make, but she’s also dangerously close to swooning in the middle of press and she should have asked the Yankees for media training. Someone would have made sure she didn’t make a total ass of herself.

“Show me the time,” Killian yells, another demand that isn’t that. It’s too wobbly a string of words to hold any real power, just the supportive sort of desperation Emma’s felt in a variety of ninth innings and series-clinching moments. “Faster! Faster!” “Talking to the time or the judges or your wife?” Scarlet asks.

Killian nearly snarls.

Emma blinks. Hyperactively. Crying is not usually her shtick. More camera flashes...flash, Emma barely noticing them with her eyes glued to a phone screen that isn’t hers because she at least knows not to bring her phone to a press conference, and she can only imagine how many text messages she’s gotten.

Even on the other side of the world.

They post the times.

She knows because Killian gets some rather impressive height on his celebratory vertical. Fingers abandoning his hair, his fist pumps the air, and Scarlet’s not laughing so much as he’s whooping, a steady stream of yeah, yeah, yeah in the background. And for about half a breath, Emma’s worried Killian may turn one of his ankles on his landing, but he’d think that was insulting, and she’s really just full-on swooning now.

“How many people have seen this?’ she asks the reporter, already knowing the answer.

The reporter smiles anyway. Emma should learn her name.

“Pretty much the whole world.” When Emma was a kid — the sort of kid who believed alone was better, and there was strength in singularity, that would have terrified her. Bowled her over, really. Left her running without looking back, desperate to shed any sort of notoriety because notoriety meant attention, and attention meant inevitable disappointment.

Maybe that’s why she was never much of a sports person.

Sports disappoint you. They build you up and let you down, a sharp and sudden fall without a safety net. But sometimes. Sometimes, every so often, something wonderful happens. Sports lift you. Right up an indoor wall. Because, she knows, sports’ power comes from belief, from surrendering yourself to something bigger and better, and she’s back on that alliterative kick, but the tears are barely clinging to her eyelashes now and Emma herself is bigger and better, now.

In an international, decidedly romantic sort of way.

The video’s playing away.

“Let’s go,” Killian cries, and there it is. Her sound and their sound, cheering across an ocean and time zones that are still kind of messing with her sleep schedule.

Emma’s smile stretches.

“Let’s go,” she repeats.

It ends, as with most things in Emma’s gold-medal-winning life, because Anna plans it.

Stepping out of the terminal, it takes less than a full breath for the cheers to start. For the banners to lift and the tears to flow, a small platoon of support covered in the sort of patriotic gear they definitely got from the Old Navy in Herald Square.

Flashes burst behind Emma’s eyelids because she’s got to blink or she’ll definitely fall over. Her legs wobble beneath her, contending against a wave of triumph and jubilation, which is sort of the same word, but they’ve got a game at the Stadium tonight, so she doesn’t expect, she just hopes and reaches, and he has to twist around both Anna and Mary Margaret.

It’s wonderfully cyclical.

As is the way Emma slams herself against him. On purpose, this time. Killian’s arms tighten, more cheers and shouts, and people a few feet away start chanting USA over and over. Emma barely hears them. Her feet aren’t touching the ground, so she’s kind of preoccupied.

They’re all arms and mouths, and her legs wrapped securely around a body that probably shouldn’t be supporting hers when she knows he slid into second two nights ago, but Killian clearly has no intention of letting her down, and the medal around her neck bumps against her rings.

“You’re a very good cheerleader; you know that?” He hisses. In what, Emma can’t imagine. Embarrassment, if the red tips of his ears are anything to go by, and she’s got ideas as to why that is and how long the conversation about social media with Scarlet went, so Emma does the only reasonable thing.

She slams her lips against her home-run hitting husband’s, doing her best to make sure the gold medal doesn’t mistakenly impale either one of them, and the world tilts again. With victory and sports-based support and the sort of love that comes from believing in something bigger.

And better than Emma could have ever imagined.

“I didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

“Please,” Emma scoffs, “don’t insult me like that. Plus, I’m claiming every one of those home runs as my own, so comparatively—” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

That’s for the best, probably.

“Your arms looked ridiculously good the whole time.”

Her laugh doesn’t even sound like her when Emma hears it played back — another video that someone tells her goes viral, only she doesn’t care about hits or site traffic, just about the particular shade of blue in Killian’s eyes, and she wears her medal to the game that night.

Because they’re a sports power couple, now.

Or so the New York Post back page claims the next day.

Emma frames it.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #hook heel #this is also apparently my 50th work on ao3 #which is just patently nuts #so if you guys have been clicking and reading all these words know that i am a little in love with you

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mageofseven · 3 years

Note

Brothers react to MC who has been running on little to no sleep and coffee for days but keeps saying they’re fine and not about to collapse

Decided to put these together since their prompts are pretty similar.

Also, Belphie's section kinda took it's own turn 😅 it's not bad, simply went heavier on the nightmare aspect of the one ask and doesn't really have much in the way of the caffeine or sleeplessness, but I hope you like it nonetheless~

Lucifer:

Not the habit of his that he wished them to mimick, if he's honest.

Is very worried about their health, both physical and emotional.

Confiscates the rest of their energy drinks and refuses to let them attend RAD the next few days so they can stay home and sleep.

Any arguements on the matter fall on deaf ears

And if they try the pull the "You do it too!" card since he often uses caffeine to get him through sleepless nights of work, he will remind them that he is a demon and his body can take a lot more strain than theirs.

Stays home with them to make sure they sleep; after all, he has been tasked with keeping them healthy just as much as he has with their physical safety.

Catches them trying to work on homework in their room on the first day and all but carries them to his room.

Makes them sleep in his bed while he does paperwork at his desk.

Whenever he'd hear them whimper in their sleep, he'd wake them and help calm them.

Has to do this a lot over the course of the next few days and becomes even more concerned.

Eventually asks if something is bothering his Love that is fueling these nightmares

And if they'd rather not talk to him about it, he offers to help them get in touch with a therapist that they can talk to.

Ends up setting the human on a better track physically, but acknowledges that their emotional wellbeing is more difficult and more so depends on what they are willing to do for themselves than anything he can do for them.

Mammon:

Oh lord, they got this boy worried.

Not that he will straight up tell them, but still.

Gets Lucifer to let the two of them skip school for a few days to try fix them up (normally this would be a hard no from the oldest, but even he noticed how sleep deprived the human was and knew that it was necessary to fix their sleep schedule and have them rest).

Mammon was the only one that knew about his Human's nightmares though and honestly, he wasn't sure how to handle that part.

Step one! Put down the Monster, human!

Step two! He's dragging them to his bed and they are staying put till they fall asleep!

After that...the Avatar of Greed has no clue what to do.

The man lays down with them and relaxes them enough to fall asleep.

He stayed by them, just in case. He tried laying in bed with them, but eventually the man got uncomfortable so he switched to walking around the room or sitting on the couch. He avoided leaving the room or doing anything too loud though.

When he first noticed their cries from the bed, the man dropped his phone on the couch before rushing over.

He hovered over the bed for a minute. Should he wake them? Is it better to let them them sleep through it?

But as MC let out another whimper, the man knew he couldn't just do nothing.

"Oi! Babe!"

The human woke with a start and clung to their boyfriend before they were even aware of it.

Mammon sat on the bed and let his Human lean against him and cry. He didn't really know what to say so he just stroked their hair awkwardly as they cried.

"Was it the same dream?" He mumbled once they calmed down.

Silence. How was he suppose to help if they didn't wanna talk about it?

"I'm sorry..." MC whispered.

"Don't be sorry, babe; just talk to me 'ere."

MC tugged at him so the two of them could lay back down together.

"I don't wanna think about it..."

The second brother shut up at that, feeling like an ass for pushing them. Of course, MC didn't see it that way though; they knew he was just worried.

Mammon stayed in bed with them this time, not leaving their side even once after they fell back asleep.

After about a week of focusing on sleep, MC gets better physically, but the nightmares were still an issue.

It helped having Mammon close to them though so they were at least less frequent. The demon still has no clue what they keep dreaming about that scares them so much, but his Human feels safer with him there so that's something.

Leviathan:

MC tried really hard to hide their issue from him so he didn't worry

But of course, the third brother isn't blind and eventually noticed the extreme caffeine intake and lack of brain power

Leading him to ask questions and finally make his Henry admit they've been avoiding sleep for the last few days because of some really bad nightmares.

Immediately blames himself. The Avatar of Envy falls into a pit of self hatred, telling himself he should know this stuff and that MC kept this from his because they think he's weak and worthless and--

Yeah. MC has to spend time and what literally energy they have assuring him that none of that is true.

It was a Friday evening so no school to miss. Instead, Levi gets MC to go to sleep early

Which they agreed...as long as they could sleep with him.

Cue the blushing. The couple had yet to actually sleep in the same bed together yet or in the case of his room, the same bathtub.

Didn't really feel he could say no though with his Henry needing him so badly though.

MC could feel their boyfriend's heart pounding from nervousness as they curled up in the tub together; it didn't really calm down till the human fell asleep and Levi heard their soft breathing. It was actually pretty calming.

Not enough for him to fall asleep though. I mean, this boy usually stays up all night playing video games.

Ends up playing a game on his phone with the volume muted.

Eventually feels MC pressing up against him in their sleep and crying into his shoulder.

The boy freezes.

What was he suppose to do?! Does he wake them?? But they need sleep! But they're having a nightmare! Gaaah

The demon debated this for a few minutes before finally shaking them awake.

Even when they awoke, MC still cried against him.

Surprisingly enough though, the human was willing talk about their dream.

The nightmare they kept having...was about about him leaving them??

The envy demon's brain was stuck on buffering...what did he just hear?

The man didn't even feel like he deserved them, but some part of them was actually afraid he'd break up with them?

Dude couldn't even wrap his head around it, if he's honest.

"That'd never happen... I'm not dumb or anything, Normie..."

Though he doesn't like that they've worried about this so much that started having nightmares about it...their boyfriend is also kinda relieved because of them? Like, the bad dreams are proof that they actually love him just as much as he loves them, despite his self esteem (or lack of) always trying to tell him otherwise.

Satan:

Caught onto things pretty quickly and tried to simply ask them to go to sleep at a reasonable time that night

Just to discover the next day that they had lied to him and stayed up all night doing school work.

Annoyed, the blonde becomes a lot firmer with them. No more caffeine.

Once the human started to crash, Satan led to his room and had them sleep in his bed.

"I don't want to...dream it again."

"What is it that you keep dreaming, Kitten?" He asked, eyebrows raised

But they had already fallen alseep.

Concerned, the blonde stayed right next to them, sitting on the bed and reading a book while his other hand on top of theirs as they slept.

At some point during the night when Satan was ready to go to sleep as well, he felt the human's body suddenly tense up and their breathing became heavier.

He got up to put his book back on the shelf and MC almost instantly cried out in their sleep.

He dropped his book down on a randomly pile before sitting back down, calling out to his Kitten and shaking their shoulder.

The human woke up and found themselves clinging to his leg.

Satan stroked their hair.

"Shh. It's okay, Kitten; you're alright."

When the human calmed down, he discovered that they have been having the same dream the last few nights--or they believe it to be the same dream. They always forget it once they wake up, but it always makes their heart race and they just cry till feel empty inside, like they are not even inside their own body, but hovering outside of it.

He could feel it, how disconnected they had now become from themself, the world, even him. They were with him yet not.

The next few nights, he runs different magical tests on them to see if he can find the source of these strange nightmares that seemingly force themself out of their own body.

He will get answers. Satan cannot leave his sweet Kitten with this issue.

Asmodeus:

One of the few brothers that MC never tried to hide their problem from, though partially because they usually sleeps in his bedroom so Azzy was woken up by their thrashing and cries from the nightmare a few nights before they tried to use caffeine and sleeplessness to fix their problem.

Keyword here is tried; their boyfriend refused to let them do this to themselves. He knew better than most how important sleep was for a person's health and beauty and wasn't about to let the human sabotage themselves.

Ends up lighting a calming incense and massaging their back and shoulders before launching into a talk session. What's the dream about? Has anything been making you stressed lately? Azzy needs to hear all of it.

Finds out that they've been dreaming about...well, their past with their family in the human world. Some bad memories that get twisted into something even worse in the dreams.

"Doll..." Asmo, still sitting behind them from the massage, wraps his arms around their waist and kisses their neck then cheek.

Has mega long vent session about their family in the human world. Asmo lost some precious beauty sleep, but it was worth it because when the two finally went to sleep, MC didn't have a single nightmare that night nor the next few nights after.

As long as the human vented every once in a while instead of bottling it up, his Dolly was able to sleep with no issues.

Beelzebub:

Another one MC shared a bed with and knew about their nightmares.

In all honesty, I just can't imagine MC trying to hide anything from him and make it far enough to even have the caffeine and sleepless night issue.

Beely is simply too caring and observant. He's also someone I'd personally have trouble lying to since he's so sweet and I think many others would feel the same.

Instead, the big guy would comfort them each night, waking them from their nightmare and hold them close for a while before asking if they want some water or snack.

He'd listen to his Muffin talk about their the nightmare if they comfortable with it and promise them that regardless of what the dream was about that they're safe with him.

Would probably go to Satan and ask what he knows about the topic and if there's anything he can do to help stop MC's nightmares.

The poor guys just never wants his Muffin to feel scared or unsafe, even in their sleep 😔

Belphegor:

Another brother they never lied to about it, but honestly, only because MC was never given the chance to.

I mean really, how do you hide sleep and dream issues from the freaking Avatar of Sloth?

The very first night they had the nightmare, Belphie was woken up by some of their thrashing and cries.

Instead of waking them up however, the demon used his powers to slip into their dream to see what was causing them to break down so hard in their sleep

And didn't like the answer he found.

When he peaked into their dream...he discovered that it was about that night. About the Incident™️.

He watched another version of himself with his hand wrapped his Human's throat, killing them all over again.

Honestly, the sloth demon isn't when he did it, but found his real self materialized in the dream and on top of his dream version, beating down on the fake him and eventually choking him till the fake simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

MC was on the ground, regaining their breath as they watched the two Belphies fight. When the fight was over and the remaining Belphie was alone on the floor, crying angry and frustrated tears, the human got up and rushed over to him.

Belphie pushed them away, avoiding their hug.

"Dummy. You shouldn't try to comfort me. I haven't even told you this is a dream yet..."

MC had no way of knowing what was happening then was a dream so from their point of view in this small memory turned dream, Belphie was nothing more than a copy of the man who tried to kill them, but they still felt the need to comfort him...

Devil, he didn't understand them. Not in this moment in the dream or in the waking world. This human... after everything, how can they care about him? How can they love him?

"Dream?"

And with that, Belphie made them wake up and the two were back in the real attic, curled up in bed.

The man sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed, feet on the floor and head in his hands.

It took the human a few moments to adjust to what just happened, but eventually they wiped a few tears away and scooted behind him, hugging their boyfriend from behind.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. You didn't do anything wrong, Butthead..."

Man, what's wrong with them? Belphie just didn't understand them. His brain was stuck on a loop with that thought.

"Belphie, I know you're different. You're not the same now as you were that night."

"Yeah, but I still did it," He raised his head and turned around to face him. "And don't pretend that it doesn't matter anymore because you wouldn't being having a nightmare about it if it didn't matter."

Their boyfriend had a point. The Incident™️...it was a traumatic experience for them. I mean, they died. Yet because MC forgives him and has fallen for him, they try to so hard to downplay it so they won't hurt him, but in truth, all it does is drive the seventh brother crazy.

"...You're right. It does matter." MC said softly. "But not as much as you matter to me."

MC took his hand and squeezed it.

"I love you... I don't want you hurt over this anymore."

"What, like it's okay that you hurt over?" Belphie took his hand back and stared intensely at them. "Promise me. Promise you won't keep downplaying this and you'll let me...shit, I don't know. Do anything you need."

"I..." MC lowered their head. "Okay."

Belphie pulled his Human into a hug.

"I love you, Butthead." He mumbled. "Don't ever try putting me before your own feelings or even your mental health. I'm not worth that..."

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc

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rachelbethhines · 3 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne

So now we get to what is, in my opinion, the best episode in season three. However, it’s still season three, so that’s damning with faint praise.

Summary: Rapunzel tasks the kingdom with refurbishing the throne room. While breaking down a wall, they find a map to the Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne and Rapunzel decides to set up a race to the location. The teams, which consist of twos, are only allowed to look at the map briefly before the start of the race. However, Rapunzel's partner, Feldspar, brings a copy of the map with him and he warns her that the treasure is cursed.

Why Are You Just Getting to This Now?

It’s literally been months since you defeated the Saporians. Edmund had to have time to travel all this way to Corona and you’ve rebuilt an entire village since then. We’re talking at bare minimum three months or more.

Who just leaves a gapping hole inside their home for three months? Where did you conduct the government’s important business during that time? Is there any other structural damage to the castle or the town outside from previous battles that you’ve just left unattended? I understand that rebuilding Old Corona is important but those villagers have been evacuated and living elsewhere for a year and a half now since Queen for a Day. It wasn’t a priority, but this is.

Also this episode has to come after The Return of the King and Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf because Red, Angry, and Hamuel exist. It can’t just be slotted in somewhere else in order for it to make more sense. The writers genuinely planned for Rapunzel to be this disorganized and didn’t think to give a logical reason as to why.

Also Why Are You Conscripting Regular Citizens Instead of Hiring Professional Contractors?

Unlike Old Corona, which is a full on community that would require multiple building projects going on simultaneously and therefore could use volunteers, this is a single government building. It’s Rapunzel’s job as leader to make sure that that building is kept maintained and up to code. It’s her responsibility not the regular average citizen’s who has their own jobs to do and zero experience with construction.

Rapunzel is literally forcing these people to be slave labor for her under the pretense of ‘community’. She’s taking their time away from their own busy lives, forcing them to work a dangerous job, and not compensating them for that time, effort, and risk. And no, they’re not just volunteers at this point; because as acting queen, no one can safely say no to her nor can they just leave even when they’re clearly annoyed and fed up at having to do the work.

Lastly they’re untrained. They lack the skills and tools to this job. You need an architect, you need a safety inspector, you need actual carpenters and masonries ... maybe even an interior decorator... The point is you need trained professionals and part of being an administrator is using government funding to hire these people in order to make sure the work gets done safely and efficiently and create jobs and keep money circulating through the economy.

Rapunzel may not mean any harm. She might just be oblivious and untrained herself. But this is terrible leadership and the show never points that out. It never has her learn how to be a better a ruler so by the end of the series you don't feel she’s earned that title of Queen and you fear for the kingdom’s continued existence.

So Why Is This Here?

Why would there be a Saporian map to a king of Corona’s tomb hidden in the wall? What’s the story behind this?

Yes we know his wife was Saporian, but that doesn’t explain anything. Why would she need a map on the wall to her own husband’s resting place; assuming he didn’t out live her himself. Why would said map be carved into the wall of Corona’s castle and not written on a scroll? Why is it in Saporian when they don't speak that language in Corona?

Like I could come up with explanations and create this whole backstory for Herz Der Sonne and the first Saporian/Coronian War, but at this point I’d just be doing the work of the writers for them. They’re the ones who introduced this lore and had it inform plot points and character motivation; and then failed to explain any of it to the audience and adequately have it all connect back together in a way that makes sense.

The Moment When You Realize This Whole Episode Exists Because Zachary Levi Enjoys Doing an Ed Wynn Impersonation

Ok time to explain some behind the scenes Info.

This is Ed Wynn.

As you can tell from the gif above, he’s famous for voicing the Mad Hatter in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. He’s also done a whole bunch of other stuff and was well known even before working with Disney, but the Mad Hatter is his most well remembered role today.

Many actors, particularly voice actors, like to do impressions of him because he has such a distinctive voice. Including Eugene’s VA, Zachery Levi.

Now I don’t know if the character of Feldspar was created specifically because the creators were inspired by Zachery Levi’s impression, or if they had this character already planned out and just casted him in the role since he could do it and it’d save them money. Either scenario is plausible and not unheard of in animation. But the long and short of it is, as a shoemaker, Feldspar is intended to be a parody of the Mad Hatter. That is why the character exists.

Now as I said, this isn’t unusual for animated tv shows. Quite often you get main cast members to voice secondary and/or one off characters because it’s convenient, efficient, and doable when working with audio recordings. Also quite often voice actors will do impressions of other famous people to flesh out these background characters. It’s also not out of left field for these secondary characters to get an episode of focus if they’ve been around for awhile and keep popping up in the story.

What is unusual, however, is to focus on said character in the final season when there are a bunch of other more important characters with unresolved arcs that need the screen time more. It’s an incredibly odd decision to highlight Feldspar here when we still got Varian readjusting back into society, Red and Angry settling into their new home, and Edmund running around off screen. And while some of these character feature in the episode, they’re just there for the jokes not for any development.

What’s a “Sap Pond” and How Does That Even Work?

Ok its a fantasy world, I get it. But the franchise does try to have a distinction between the magical and the mundane. Or at least pretends to try and have a distinction. There’s to my knowledge no such thing as a ‘sap pond’, and if such a thing does exist I doubt it’s an actual deep pit full of tree sap as shown here.

If you want characters to still be surprised by out of the ordinary occurrences and have the supernatural world be separate from the regular world; then you need to have the mundane world grounded in our known reality. Nature needs to function as real world nature would. If something exists in your world that doesn't in ours, then you need to either explain it or have the characters responded appropriately to it.

But You’re a Prince Now?

Look, I’ll buy that season one Eugene didn’t have unlimited access to the royal treasury as he and Rapunzel were still new to their roles and their relationship. But it’s been over two years since the movie ended.

Since then Eugene and Rapunzel have lived together, shared finances together, and currently are co-acting rulers of the kingdom. He’s also a bonified prince in of itself on top of being practically married to princess/queen.

Yeah I said it. Part of what makes season three so frustrating is that Rapunzel and Eugene are functionally married at this point, they just haven’t gone through the ceremony yet, and there’s no stated reason for why they keep dragging things out.

This is why we get out of place jokes like this that no longer reflect who Eugene is now as a person and feel like they belong back in season one or the even the movie itself.

I can understand if he wanted to join in the competition because it’s fun, but he’s not poor. Neither he nor Rapunzel needs the treasure. I’m not sure even Lance needs it because as Eugene’s best friend/adopted brother he’s piratically nobility at this point as well.

Royalty and the rich are not and never will be underdogs show. Stop trying to make them such.

So Why Feldspar Again?

This is such a half assed plot point.

Remember Rapunzel literally pulled out a book earlier to translate the map. Xavier not only knows the legends about the Saporians, but also keeps a book of magic lying around, and the Saporians are the only human people who have functioning magic in the show as part of their culture. Varian spent a year living and working with the Saporian leader, and knows how to decipher ancient scrolls written in dead languages. And said Saporians, are being currently held in the dungeons of the castle.

But you’re telling me that only a random cobbler can read the warning clearly written on the map?

They give some bullshit reason as to why Feldspar knows Sapoprian but it doesn’t matter. It’s a forced and contrived excuse to get the character involved in a plot he has no business being in. The story fails to justify the use him over the other more prominent characters who have closer ties to this particular subplot.

And We’re Suppose to Believe That Herz Der Sonne Was a Good Guy?

Why would a benevolent king who supposedly brought peace to a warring land have a doomsday curse involving zombies? Why would said king be enshrined a tomb that’s not native to his culture? What even is the treasure and why be buried with it?

There’s clearly more going on here regarding Corona’s past and the treatment of the Saporians as a people in their own right, but the show never does anything with it. Why introduce these complexities and world building if you’re not going to tell a story with them? Why have the Saporian subplot at all in a series already over stuffed with villains if you aren’t going to have them challenge your protagonist and have her grow into a more mature person?

I’m not dunking on the series for being ambitious nor for having flavor text to help flesh out the world, but it so aggravating that there’s no follow through on the show’s set ups and narrative promises. If you’re not going to give the needed focus to something then just don’t put it in. Cause once it’s aired you’re committed to it and the audience is going to hold you to account.

I haven’t seen plot mismanagement this bad since the 80s; back when cartoons had to battle network syndication, episode commissions instead of contracted seasons, and could be canceled at any time without prior notice. Now there’s still plenty of bad practices going on in the industry, especially as the move to streaming messes with things, but Tangled does not have the same excuses as say Johnny Quest, Dungeons and Dragons, or even Gargoyles did.

How Do You Even Know That Would Work, Rapunzel?

No seriously, how does Rapunzel know that putting the treasure chest back on the pedestal will stop the cruse? That hasn’t been established yet by any known source of information. Heck no one knew what the curse actually entailed until it was activated. Except for Xavier who oh so conveniently didn’t say anything until the last moment. If anyone should have the knowledge to on how to end the curse it’s him. But nope we gotta make the Rapunzel the infallible hero who is always right for no logical reason.

I don’t know how to explain this to you show, but perfect is boring. No one wants a flawless protagonist who can do it all 24/7 without any help whatsoever. And it becomes down right annoying to watch a hero who is clearly flawed still put upon a narrative pedestal as if they weren’t.

So Why is Varian Suddenly Useless In This Fight?

This entire climax is about showcasing the ‘power of teamwork’ by having the characters use their various skills sets and work together to defeat the enemy.

Except for Varian.

He’s treated at best as a spectator to the unfolding events and at worst as a damsel in distress.

Varian. You know the guy who is the series most competent and threating antagonist. Who brought an entire kingdom to it’s knees, twice. The only other character besides Rapunzel herself who could and does hold his own against other major antagonists, including super powered ones.

If this was just a one off incident, I’d just shrug it away as him being a glass cannon; insanely overpowered when well prepared but easily out of his depth when not. But that’s not what’s happening here.

Season three constantly nerfs Varian’s abilities, same as they did back in The Alchemist Returns, and there’s three reasons for this.

The first is to try and stop him from overshadowing Rapunzel and Cassandra. The writers don’t want to give him any more story focus for fear of him being more popular the the two girls. Which is a ridiculous and petty reason to write a character OOC but there you go.

The second is the on going issue of making Rapunzel needlessly the center of any and all solutions to every problem regardless of her level of involvement in the initial conflict. Yes, it’s her show, but she’s still not the whole world. Other people exist outside of her and it’s not fair to anybody when the writers ignore that simple fact.

Last is the writers sacrificing established character for a joke. And as already pointed out, even in this very review, Varian’s not the only character to fall victim to this. It’s just bad writing. Yeah the joke might be funny in the moment but you run the risk of jarring you’re audience’s immersion. In a series like Tangled where you’re constantly asking the audience to suspend their disbelief, humor needs to be firmly rooted in the characters natural behaviors and must evolve to match any character development.

Why not just have Varian throw a chimball or two, run out cause he wasn’t planning on fighting anybody that day, and then have the other characters rescue him? It’s not that hard to work in a joke while still being respectful of the characters.

So What Does Anybody Learn From This Episode?

Yeah the other characters learn some vague lesson on teamwork and getting along or something, but they’re not the focus of the episode. What do Rapunzel and Feldspar learn?

Unlike some people I don’t mind Feldspar’s existence. When’s he’s kept as a background character he works. In fact he’s one of the few townspeople who do work as intended, because he’s representative of the everyday citizen who’s often on the outside looking in on these fantastical events and therefore gives insight into what’s going on and the populous’ opinions on things without being a major player in anything.

That's fine, needed even, and I don’t mind him getting a single focus episode to gain a greater insight into how this world works or even flesh out his character more, but that’s not what we got. Feldspar doesn’t grow as a character because of this episode. I, as the viewer watching, learn nothing about him nor his life that I didn’t already know. This resolution with him resolves nothing cause it’s a ending for a conflict that was never established beforehand.

In fact what even was the main conflict of the story? Rapunzel being annoyed by Feldspar? Ok and..? Did she need to learn not to be annoyed by him? Was that a thing that needed to be addressed? Hasn’t Rapunzel already put up with annoying people before now? Was was this deficiency of character actually solved by this one interaction? Has she learned to be more appreciative, attentive, or open minded of others?

If you tell me it’s Rapunzel’s show then I expect Rapunzel to actually learn shit!

I expect the external conflicts to tie back into her interpersonal conflicts. If the external conflict does not do that than there better well be a another character who gets that focus instead without her hogging the limelight.

This Dynamic Adds Nothing

They set up this friendship with Varian and Xavier and it doesn't go anywhere. It never comes back into play and we never see them interacting on screen together again. It also undermines a future plot point that’s coming up later.

More over it doesn’t further either of their characters.

Xavier is still an extraneous exposition fairy. Turning his flat characterization into a one note joke does not erase that fact. Giving him a kid to tell stories to doesn’t explain his place in the narrative or give him purpose to the story. We still don’t know why he has these connections to magic nor how he knows all the this lore, and he doesn’t push the plot forward.

Meanwhile Varian maybe lonely but that doesn’t mean he needs yet another mentor figure in his life. We already have his father, who we barely see him interact with since coming back, and all his other ‘friends’ are way older then him already as well. Rapunzel’s the closest in age to him and she is constantly condescending to, well everybody, as she pretends to be more mature than she actually is. There’s no one in the story who Varian is on equal footing with, and no Angry and Red don't count as they’re far younger than him.

I don’t know what this series has against teenagers but it showcases some very unhealthy depictions of them; ether by constantly infantilizing them, traumatizing them while subjecting them to parentification, or just flat out ignoring their existence all together.

Teenagers exist and they need to be treated as teenagers. I don’t know how to put it more simply than that. Teens aren’t children. Teens aren’t adults. They’re teens. And when writing for them you need to understand that difference and acknowledge that they have a completely different phycological development and placement within society to anybody else. That’s why the category of adolescence exists separately from childhood and adulthood in the first place.

So to tie things back to the first point. The concept of Xavier and Varian having a friendship is not a problem. But as with so many things on this show, it’s the surrounding context and lack of follow through where the issues arises.

Varian needs a friend his age, who is his equal, more so than a mentor; if indeed Xavier is even intended to serve that function as he doesn’t do any real mentoring. This should have been an opportunity to bring Faith in and establish her better. In fact it’s reasons like this why she should have been a bigger character all along but we’ll get more into that as we get to her only ‘focus’ episode.

Conclusion

It’s fun seeing all the various character interactions and unique team ups. Also the humor does work. The jokes do land even if they do bulldoze through established canon. Plus seeing Rapunzel actually annoyed by shit going on around her is always entertaining as it humanizes her. If watched in isolation from the rest of season three, this is an enjoyable episode. But that’s it’s core problem. I shouldn’t have to find filler to keep me going in the last leg of the show.

This was pretty short comparatively speaking with the rest of the ones I have to write for S3, but longer ones are going to come out more slowly just due to real life and time. As always though you’re support is helpful in keeping going, and if you feel like you can donate to my Ko-fi and leave a tip there.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #varian #anti-tangled #feldspar

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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What has Ironwood done that's objectively wrong? Bringing the fleet to Beacon makes sense with 1) Qrow's warning, 2) the presence of Grimm in general, 3) we have security forces for major events on Earth. Blake's trailer shows her & WF stealing dust for terrorist acts used at Beacon and Haven. His embargo makes sense. Penny & co. were fighting grimm in Mantle in vol. 7. Amity was used in vol. 8. I keep seeing people call him a Greek tragic hero and characters keep calling him misguided but why??

Personally, the only thing I think Ironwood has done objectively wrong is shooting Oscar and the Councilman, which is why those actions feels so far removed from the rest of his character — an attempt on the writers’ part to make him really evil when the story started insisting he’s an antagonist. RWBY isn’t interested in portraying Ironwood and Ruby as two heroes who go about saving people in different ways, like it was for Yang and Ruby: “You go save individuals and I’ll tell the world about Salem. We might disagree about how to help, but the narrative presents both actions as helping” (stupidity of the Amity plan aside). We could have easily gotten that with, “You go make a suicidal stand against Salem in an effort to save more people and I’ll take the risk of trying to escape with the people we have” but the show just... didn’t. Nor is the story interested in saying that Ruby was wrong, so the moment she took a firm stance against Ironwood he had to become the objective bad guy. If your story refuses to acknowledge that the hero is in any way flawed, then their opponents can’t have redeeming features that reflect badly on the hero. Which is what we had with Ironwood prior to the Oscar shooting, standing in contrast to Ruby with his practical approach that actually had a chance of saving some vs. her idealism that was going to get everyone killed (and still might). Everything Ironwood did was ABSOLUTELY iffy... but never objectively wrong. He had justified reasons for everything he did and only the best of intentions. Does that mean he was right every time? Wrong? It’s debatable and straddling that line was always the point. But once the story pit Ironwood against Ruby, a Ruby the story refuses to acknowledge as anything other than Pure and Good, that line could not longer exist. He HAD to be villainous in order to exist as her contrast, yet hadn’t acted in a villainous manner. So what do you do? Have him randomly shoot people to establish how evil he is.

As for the tragic hero aspect, I’d say it’s an easy claim to make if you don’t dive too deep into the story. Meaning, we can see a lot of similarities on the surface of Ironwood’s character, yet the actual meat of the story doesn’t support this reading very well. Ironwood is indeed a moral person of good standing whose misfortune stems from some bad luck/mistakes (army getting hacked is the best example), but that’s it. A great deal more of his misfortune stems from deliberate acts against him, both by Salem and (to a lesser extent) by Ruby. Ironwood’s supposed fatal flaw — the hamartia, usually hubris/pride — is not seen throughout the story, despite how much the fandom insists that he seizes power because he believes he’s Remnant’s savior. Throughout the whole series Ironwood continually eschews pride in favor of leaning on others: Let’s listen to Ozpin, let’s welcome new allies, let’s align ourselves with old enemies. It’s just that every time he reaches out, his allies fail him: Ozpin was keeping secrets (I love the guy and support most of his decisions, but I get why Ironwood's trust faltered, far more-so than I understand the group’s), Ruby lies and betrayed him, Robyn likewise betrayed him and helped get Clover killed. Pride is not his downfall, bad allies and an evil witch are!

Perhaps most importantly, the tragic hero is meant to elicit pity. Sometimes fear too, but mostly pity. The story should be cathartic for the viewer because they’re watching a good person meet a bad end, largely due to what we recognize as inevitable, human error. That’s not who the story now insists Ironwood is. The story wants us to hate him, hence the above paragraph about “He’s evil now and shoots people for no reason.” This isn’t to say that the tragic hero never does things/has characteristics that the audience dislikes — they are still meant to be very flawed — but those aspects should not outweigh our ability to connect with the character and understand them. The emotional foundation here is regret that things turned out this way when they didn’t have to and the character (or at least who the character started out as) didn’t deserve this fate. Is that what RWBY is aiming for with Ironwood? I wouldn’t say so. We, as individual fans, might feel sympathy for him — largely due to what we recognize as bad writing choices changing our perspective — but that doesn’t mean the story is actively angling for that response. I’d say RWBY wants us to despise Ironwood and root for his downfall, which flies in the face of the tragic hero. He’s moved into the category of a much more clear-cut villain: a killer, a contrast to the heroes, our protagonist tells the whole world not to trust him. It’s possible that Ironwood may circle back to a tragic hero, but again, I doubt RWBY will succeed in making that move in a persuasive manner. I think they’ll just kill Ironwood off and people will go, “See, that’s what happens to tragic heroes!” ignoring both what the story wanted us to feel for Ironwood this last volume (he’s villainous) and how it failed to get us there in a believable manner (he was a good guy who just inexplicably started shooting when the story needed him to).

These archetypes are complex and require that they be written with intent and, to be frank, skill. Compare Ironwood to someone like Walter White. Breaking Bad ensure we see from Episode One how Walter’s pride continually leads him down a dark path. His inability to lean on/trust others means that he goes to extreme lengths to do everything on his own, like making drugs to pay for his own cancer treatments. In time this leads to a more overt desire for power and his eventual downfall, wherein the audience recognizes the need for his punishment, yet still aches for the good man besieged by bad luck (cancer) that he once was. Ironwood’s fatal flaw is that he... wants to use military force against an endless army of literal monsters? That he doesn’t want to do everything on his own? Ironwood’s flaw is only a flaw in our world, not the world where magical monsters are eating people, and 99% of his misfortune stems not from his own actions coming about due to a different flaw, but because others are actively working against him. We can’t make broad-sweeping claims about Ironwood’s actions without first considering the actions of the characters around him. Oedipus is a tragic hero because he kills a man (action), ignorant that this is his father and thus fulfilling part of his prophecy. All of Ironwood’s recent, intended actions — tell the world about Salem, leaving with Amity, etc. — have not come about and his ignorance only existed because others deliberately kept that information from him. It’s like if a friend of Oedipus’ knew all along that Laius was his father but refused to tell him, then stopped him from killing Laius because that’s bad... but then blamed him when someone else killed him instead? I think the fandom forgets that things are #bad right now because Salem is attacking the kingdom with, like, five different evil weapons. The kingdom is falling mostly because Salem is an asshole and a little because Ruby has made awful choices lately. Ironwood’s supposed pride didn’t bring Salem here, didn’t keep people from surviving, is not stopping the group from winning their battle. The tragedies we see in the story right now are not on him.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #Anonymous

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stillebesat · 3 years

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Dog Days

DECEMBER DRABBLES DAY 13 Detective Conan / Magic Kaito: Kuroba Kaito/KID, Edogawa Conan, (also present Mouri Kogoro, Mouri Ran, The Detective Boys) Blurb: If he was being truthful with himself, Kaito hadn’t expected to ever get caught by the police, let alone placed in a cell that he couldn’t get out of. Overall Fic Warnings: Prison/Captivity

If he was being truthful with himself, Kaito hadn’t expected to ever get caught by the police, let alone placed in a cell that he couldn’t get out of.

But that was exactly what had happened. The police had grabbed hold of him while he was disoriented, his movements less than his usual grace. And despite how much he’d wiggled and struggled, he hadn’t been able to escape before they’d shoved him into the back of the police van.

One dizzying drive later, and he’d been manhandled into his current predicament. A four foot by six foot chain link covered cell, with a concrete floor and padlock on the door. A padlock that he should have been able to pick within two seconds. But couldn’t.

Kaito paced his tiny cell space, listening to the cacophony of his fellow cellmates. Cellmates that would only get louder whenever the wardens wandered in and out of their cell block and only quieted down when the lights went out overhead and the people left for the evening.

Kaito groaned, throwing himself onto the concrete floor, sprawling out on his side. No, he’d never expected to get caught. Never expected to be stuck in this stupid place for two weeks without being able to escape! He rolled to his belly, resting his head between his paws, his tail tapping in irritation.

Of course he’d never expected to be changed into a dog either. How could anyone ever plan for that?

Well, he probably should have since he knew a self-proclaimed witch. But seriously a dog? He pushed to his feet again to circle the tiny space once more. If any good to honest spell was doing its proper job, he would have been a cat! At least cats were more useful in their four-leggedness. More suited to his liking of heights and doing the impossible. They also had handy claws. He was sure he could have picked the padlock easily if he’d only had cat claws instead of dog paws that were about as dexterous as a wooden spoon.

His ears flicked as his fellow doggy cellmates started up another round of barking and howling. Great. Another visitor come to look for a new potential family pet more than likely. It wasn’t time yet for the workers to come do their closing tasks. And after two weeks of being here, he knew their schedule like none other. He growled, moving to the back of the cage so he wouldn’t be as noticeable as the others and sat, his back to the door.

After his first handful of experiences of being taken out for prospective owners to see him closer, he had no desire to leave the cage. He’d already tried all the escape routes those opportunities had offered.

Even if he could get the stupid rope that they placed around his neck off, the doors all had rounded door knobs, preventing him from getting out. He would need Lady Luck to work some serious magic for him to escape this place. A frayed rope that breaks, doors that happen to be open, clumsy workers who failed to catch him, a potential adopter opening the door to the outside at just the right moment so he could finally leave this place….

Kaito exhaled, his ears drooping as he laid down, his tail curling around his back legs. And then what? He escaped and then what? It wasn’t like he could go home like this, and his hopes for waking up human again were fading as time wore on.

He’d need to figure out how exactly he’d become a dog in the first place because irritatingly enough, he couldn’t remember a single thing from the day of his change.

The day before he’d been in school, had spent the evening with Jii planning for a heist the next day. A heist he must have gone to as KID. A heist where something happened. A heist where he, the famous Phantom Thief KID must have still pulled off since the Task Force were the ones to find him and put him in the pound.

Kaito pushed again to his feet, snapping his teeth at his tail as it lashed back and forth. He’d been staggering, disoriented when the Task Force had found him. That much he could remember. Why couldn’t he remember anything beyond that? Had it been the gem? Had it been Akako and her demon magic?

Kaito went back to pacing his cell. He couldn’t recall upsetting her recently, nor her giving any of her cryptic warnings when there was actual danger. So it couldn’t have been her. The gem? Something else? Why couldn’t he remember the day at all?!

He was distracted by the sudden yells of children coming from the entrance way. Kaito flinched and darted to the back of the cage. As a magician he loved entertaining children. Their expressions of wonder when he performed magic were one of the highlights of his day.

But as a dog?

They were evil little demon terrors. Pulling at his tail, his ears, squeezing him so hard he couldn’t breathe, trying to use him as a seat, or a pillow? No. No. NO. He didn’t like it. He refused to leave the cage if it was a child involved in a possible adoption. He’d growl and bare his teeth if any child with their parents showed interest.

He never snapped at them though, never tried to bite them. After all. He was KID and KID had a no one gets hurt policy. But that didn’t mean he would let the tiny terrors walk all over him.

“Oooo!!!!” A girl cried out from further down the line of cages. Kaito’s ears flattened against his head. With his new hearing, her scream of adoration was nearly as bad as a dog whistle. “It’s so noisy!” complained a boy.

“This one is pretty!” the girl continued. “Ran-onesan! You should get this one!” “No! No! Look at this one! You should get this one!” Exclaimed another boy.

“There’s so many! How are you ever going to choose?” The girl asked.

“We should get them all!” The first boy stated.

Kaito snorted. Get them all? That was a child for you. Hearts as big as the ocean. He settled down in the back of the cage. If he stayed still, hopefully they wouldn’t notice him when they walked past.

“We’re not getting them all,” grouched an older man.

Kaito frowned, lifting his head. That voice...he knew that voice. How did he know that voice?

“We just need one for a case! A case I tell you!” He continued.

“Otosan” Another familiar female voice responded. Kaito’s ears perked up and he stood on all fours.

Wait.

Hadn’t the little girl said ‘Ran-onesan’ earlier? His heart leapt. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? He darted to the front of his cage as a very, VERY familiar voice spoke up.

“Ojisan, how do you expect to train a dog to help you solve cases?” Kaito’s favorite little Critic asked.

Kaito lifted up onto his hind legs, placing his front paws on the cage. Yes. YES! Tantei-kun was here. His tail wagged frantically. Tantei-kun. Tantei-kun. Maybe Lady Luck still was on his side. He dropped down, spinning in circles. Conan had come to get a dog.

Well, the old man had come to get a dog, but Tantei-kun was here, and if they got a dog, if they got HIM, then he could be free! He could get his favorite Critic to help him figure out why he was a dog in the first place. He just needed to….Kaito returned to the door, jumping up and down as he barked as energetically as his doggy cellmates. Tantei-kun could help him. He could help him. He just needed to get the shrunken detective’s attention!

Which was going to be rather hard when his Critic wasn’t even looking at the dogs. He had his hands behind his head, clearly bored out of his mind as his elementary friends moved from cage to cage. Clearly, Tantei-kun wasn’t into getting a pet.

Kaito dropped back to all fours, spinning in circles. Think. Think. Think Kaito! How could he get the detective’s attention? What could he do to convince him to take Kaito home? He turned back to the door, tail wagging frantically. “K-U-D-O!” He barked in morse code. “K-U-D-O. K-U-D-O! K-U-D-O!” Come on, come on. He placed his paws on the chain link. “K-U-D-O!” Please. Notice him!

He dropped to all fours wagging his tail, tilting his head, trying to look as adorable as possible as the children stopped at his cage. He whined, tail thumping the concrete.

“Stay away from that cage, children.” The head warden of the doggy cells called out. “He doesn’t like children.”

Kaito stiffened, as the children quickly backed away. No! NO! He jumped at the gate, whining frantically. “K-U-D-O! S-O-S!!” He barked out. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as the group quickly moved further down the rows.

The shrunken detective hadn’t even glanced his way. He probably hadn’t even heard the coded barking with all his cellmates yapping like crazy too. His voice had been drowned out. And with his refusal to let children near, he’d just royally screwed himself from even being considered by them. Agh! Why did Lady Luck have to be so fickle? Giving him a ray of hope only to snatch it away.

He slumped to the ground, head lowered, not caring that he was whining pathetically.

“Hey boy.”

Kaito jerked his head up, to see Conan crouched at his cage, his blue eyes sharp and piercing.

The shrunken detective glanced down the row of cages before focusing back on him. “Did you call me?” He asked in a low whisper.

Kaito nodded frantically, crawling closer to nose at the boy’s fingers.

Conan inhaled sharply. “You understand me?”

Kaito wagged his tail, giving a soft wuff as he nodded again. He half growled half woofed out “K-U-D-O” as quietly as he could, meeting his Critic’s eyes.

“How?”

“Oi! Brat!”

Conan tsked and straightened as the old man called from the other end of the room.

“We don’t have all day. Come on!”

Kaito whined, moving to his feet.

“Shh.” Tantei-kun said, raising a calming hand. His sharp eyes held Kaito’s before he turned. “Ojisan! I want this one!” He cried out, his voice rising into it’s childish pitch. “Please! Please! Please!” He bounced on his toes, pointing to him. “I like this one!” He dropped his tone. “You better know tricks.” He muttered. “The old man needs a trained dog for his idiotic plan.”

Kaito snorted, prancing in place as he gave a grin to his Critic that he hoped was somewhat similar to his usual KID grin. Did he know tricks? If only Tantei-kun knew who he was dealing with, that statement would never have been uttered in the first place.

#Dog Days #December Drabbles #Detective Conan #Magic Kaito #DCMK #Kuroba Kaito #Edogawa Conan #KID #Dog!Kaito #December Drabbles Day 13

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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SNAPE'S GRUDGE

James wasn't giving anyone one second to discuss that bomb of a mess, too scared to hear any kind of answer but the one that had to be true, it just wasn't possible the world would be cruel enough that his friend truly had gone insane in Azkaban. Sirius must have a logical and sound reason for doing this, but the fact that he couldn't come up with one made him read on with more anxiety than possibly any chapter before.

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night.

"Doubt anyone's going to get any sleep tonight either," Sirius muttered.

They knew the castle was being searched top to bottom again, and they all stayed alert to see if Black had been found this time.

James had to swallow very hard for a moment, still praying with his every fiber that wouldn't happen. He knew Sirius must have a reason for the insane act he'd just pulled, he was clearly of sound mind enough to run for cripes sake, surely he must have been able to escape again!

Harry dearly wanted to ask why they'd all been forced to stay in the Great Hall last time for a lesser problem with Sirius only having attacked the portrait, but this time they weren't leaving. He didn't though, working out for himself the teachers must think the common rooms really were safer this time.

McGonagall did come back to tell that he hadn't.

Despite the scared out of their mind mood for the room, they were all in the proper state to release a breath of relief for what they knew would always be good news to them.

The damage had been done though, and for the next several days they saw security being tightened up around the castle all the more, as the doors to the school had been enchanted to recognize Black,

"Despite the doors lack of security, I still doubt that's how you're pulling it off," Remus rolled his eyes.

and Filch was given the task of filling in every last crack in the wall that not even a mouse could squeeze through.

'Would be useful, if Peter were still around' Sirius mentally sighed, hoping more than anything that if Harry learned anything at the end of the year, it was what really was going on with that story.

Cadogan was fired,

"And good riddance," Harry grumbled, that portrait had done far more harm than good in his opinion by constantly annoying the whole of his house.

and the Fat Lady was put back,

"About time," Lily smiled, which wavered slightly when she remembered why it had been taken down in the first place. She would never really believe Sirius was out to harm anyone at that school, but it still wasn't adding up right what on earth he was doing! No one had the gall to bring it up though, James was still reading in a rather harassed manner and didn't look intent on changing that until he got a solid explanation of what was going on.

with added protection.

"How do you protect a portrait?" Harry mumbled.

His mom looked puzzled herself for a moment, but James was already reading.

Now security trolls had been hired to patrol the seventh floor.

Harry couldn't help a laugh of surprise at what he considered an overkill, considering even after all of this he still didn't feel any impending danger, but he was the only one who did.

Harry did notice that the statue on the third floor hadn't been secured,

Sirius felt the smallest of smiles trying to make an appearance on his face, left over smugness from his years in thinking he and his friends ruled the school through those secret corridors, but it just didn't hold the same pleasure now as it once would have.

and Harry couldn't help asking Ron if they should say something about it. Ron disagreed, saying that a break in at Honeydukes would have been mentioned.

Lily couldn't help herself, now she really did want to know how the boys managed to get past those sensory alarms, so she finally forced a change of subject by asking, "alright, now I'm curious. How were you getting in and out of Honeydukes?" Then she cocked her head to the side and probed further, "and besides that, how were you getting back into the passage without a wand?"

Remus couldn't help but release a surprised burst of laughter at the thunderstruck look on both her and Harry's faces, but Sirius was the one to chip his answer, "Because the sensory alarms they use only work on humans. So long as I snuck in there as a dog, the thing wouldn't go off. As for getting back in though," here he did pause and frown before huffing, "actually, I've got nothing. Suppose I hid out somewhere in the castle until the coast was clear, I still know plenty of nice little hiding holes, and snuck through a window or something from the first floor. Really shouldn't be too hard when no one would actually be looking for a dog*; or maybe I got Remus to open it after the fact. Either could work."

James couldn't stop a light smile of his own making an appearance at such a light topic to him as he commented, "it's really not as hard as you two seem to think it is to get in and out of that place."

Lily couldn't keep a triumphant smile off of her face as she watched the boys theorize a few other means for Sirius to do this, and sat back comfortably when James finally managed to keep going in normal tones.

Harry was happy to have this pointed out, as he knew that if his way into Hogsmeade was blocked off as well he'd never get back into the village.

"Which would be the crying shame of the century," Remus declared in a very serious tone of voice.

Ron had become an overnight celebrity,

"I'll bet he loved that," Sirius snickered lightly, ignoring the horrible wince that wanted to cause. At least someone was getting their kicks out of this.

as people were finally paying more attention to him then Harry,

"I'm sure that was just breaking your heart," James grinned over at Harry, who was smiling pleasantly at how happy he remembered Ron was then. This instant had finally driven Scabbers clear from his mind, it really had been the first time Ron had finally gone a full day without thinking of his pet, then he winced and rubbed at his temple as he so frequently did whenever Scabbers came to mind. Why though? Was he really just trying to remember the rat was still alive? Wouldn't this be a good thing for Ron, rather than leaving a sick feeling in the pit of his gut the longer he thought on this?

as students demanded to hear his retelling of the event which Ron was all too happy to provide.

"Glad someone in your group knows how to," James snickered.

He told how he'd thought at first he had just been asleep when he heard the tearing noise,

Then James smile dried right up when he saw he was clearly going to read exactly what Ron was telling people, something he'd gladly never discuss again until he heard Sirius' real account on the matter.

but then he blinked at the heart stopping image of the convict staring down at him.

James was trying his hardest to get through this as fast as possible, still unwilling to hear anyone's side of the story other than Sirius' himself, because there wasn't any other option. There had to be a logical, understandable reason for this madness!

He'd been holding a knife and preparing to stab when Ron started screaming, and Black made a run for it. Only after the awed students walked off did Ron turn to Harry and follow up with the question of why he'd run at all?

'Probably because he gave me a heart attack, yelling like that' Sirius mentally grumbled, but failed to say anything out loud since he was the last one who really wanted to linger on this.

Harry couldn't help but wonder the same thing, why hadn't Black just stabbed Ron and turned on Harry?

James practically hissed that out through gritted teeth in foul contempt that sentence could exist in any universe, as implausible and stupid as it was.

Harry tried to work it out, saying his cover had already been blown and if he'd delayed any longer then he would have woken up the whole house, then the teachers, he hadn't enough time.

"Humm, there's a logic to the madness," Sirius huffed without any traces of humor.

Neville was in the deepest of trouble.

"That poor thing," Lily cooed.

Sirius couldn't help but wince, now knowing this kid didn't really need his help to get into trouble but feeling bad it had been his fault.

McGonagall had taken away his privilege to go to Hogsmeade,

"Ouch," James winced, knowing from Harry's experience how awful that was going to be, and remembering earlier how hopeful he'd been that this would happen.

given him a detention, and he was no longer allowed to know the password.

"Now how would that work," Remus frowned, "actually that's pretty harsh. It's not like he did it on purpose."

"Guess I really scared the crap out of her," Sirius grumbled.

He had to wait every night among the trolls until someone arrived to let him in.

"That's just-" Lily choked, unable to decide if she was supposed to laugh at the security measures they kept trying to put up against Sirius, or continue grumbling along with the boys how unnecessary it was.

None of this was nearly as bad as the Howler he received.

"Dang," all five of them winced that time, knowing public humiliation like that was the worst form of punishment available.

Harry recognized the scarlet envelope the moment it landed on Neville's plate.

"Yeah, we remember," James shook his head in pity at that remembered incident.

Ron told Neville to make a run for it,

"Sound advice really," Sirius nodded.

and while Neville tried, sprinting out the doors to the echoing laughter of Slytherin's behind him,

"Oh," Lily scowled, "it can't really be that funny."

"I was pointing out Malfoy's group more than anything," Harry shrugged, "and they thought it was a riot."

he didn't get far. The whole hall heard Neville's grandmother magically yelling about how he'd disgraced the whole of the family.

"It's not like he did it on purpose," Lily finally snapped at how outrageous she found that claim. "I highly doubt Neville walked up to him and gave it to him, nor would he consciously leave it lying about!"

"I agree, poor Neville really doesn't deserve all of this," James sighed.

Harry had been watching after him sadly, so at first didn't notice Hedwig until she gave him a nip.

"Yeah, that'll do it," Harry muttered while rubbing at his wrist.

He took her offered letter and opened it as Hedwig began eating some of Neville's cereal.

That at least gave them a random laugh.

It contained the message that Harry and Ron were invited over at six, and in all capital letters to wait at the entrance hall for him to arrive.

"Really James," Lily sighed, "I'm glad that seemed to make you feel better, but it's a letter, you don't need to shout."

James gave her a wayward smile, not really seeming to regret it.

Hagrid signed off the bottom, and Ron got excited all over again as he guessed that Hagrid must want to hear his retelling of Black.

Sirius cocked his head to the side, he didn't really think so honestly, but he wasn't sure what it could be about either.

Lily on the other hand was beaming, more than pleased someone like Hagrid was around just to check up on them and make sure they were okay. She couldn't help but notice how absent Remus had continued to be during this year, surely he could have made an appearance to Harry again about anything, even something as trivial as talking about the next creature in class.

So the time came that they had to sprint past the security trolls,

"Can't honestly blame you," Remus chuckled.

and head down the stairs where they found Hagrid already waiting.

"I can see his point," James snickered a bit, "probably thought they wouldn't wait on him and got there an hour early."

Ron greeted him happily, confirming that Hagrid wanted to hear his account of Black's entrance. Hagrid said no, he'd heard enough about that, and Ron looked rather disappointed.

James looked the exact opposite, more than relieved he wouldn't have to read that all over again.

When they got to Hagrid's place, they found Buckbeak

"Which reminds me," Sirius said, happy for any kind of reason to talk about anything besides himself. "How's that research going on his case?"

Harry's mouth opened with a little pop, then he went bright red in the face.

"Oh, Harry you didn't," Lily moaned as she recognized the shame on his face.

"Err, it was the Firebolt, it err honestly drove Buckbeak right out of my mind, and err-"

"Relax Harry," Remus finally released him from his clearly pent up agitation at himself, "it's not like we blame you for forgetting, honestly I kind of forgot myself until Hagrid wrote you his letter. Fighting with Hermione, Scabbers and that broom, can't really blame you."

Harry still couldn't help but feel insanely guilty, he'd promised Hagrid he would help him and he had let such things drive out a promise to his friend. The others weren't yet sure what to say though, Harry should feel rightfully guilty for this but his actions were understandable for a child his age as well. So they kept silent and hoped Hagrid would have more to say.

on Hagrid's bed, eating some dead ferrets.

Lily crinkled up her nose, still wishing Hagrid would at least feed him that outside.

Looking away from that, Harry instead spotted a truly odd looking suit in Hagrid's size, and asked what the occasion was?

"A really bad and very late costume party I'd hope, but even then it hardly seems fitting," Sirius muttered.

Hagrid explained that it was for his case against the Committee, he'd set up their arrangement with some beds on the Knight Bus,

"I'm sure that'll be a sight for the other occupants," Remus snickered.

and Harry felt a horrible surge of guilt as he realized he'd forgotten all about this.

Harry continued sinking lower into himself the longer this dragged on, continued guilt indeed dragging him around. He was now convinced that if Buckbeak didn't win this case it would be all his fault.

One glance at Ron showed he had done the same, but before they could say anything Hagrid instead said he had something serious to discuss with them.

"Not as serious as I could," Sirius said at once, making James sigh and try to ignore his friend again.

"I swear that joke has popped up more in this book then any others," Remus grumbled with distaste.

When Harry asked what about, Hagrid said Hermione.

That startled all of them, Harry most of all as he'd been expecting Hagrid to tell him off for not helping out more.

Lily began smiling all over again though, relief washing through her as she really did hope now Hagrid was going to straighten these boys out and convince them they were being idiots about how they were treating their friend.

Ron wasn't pleased at the change of topic, but Hagrid told how she'd been down at his place. Ron pointed out that her cat had eaten Scabbers, and Hagrid said back that's just what cats do.

"Thank you," Remus sighed, in full agreement it was high time someone got it through Ron's head he may have been holding a bit too much of a grudge there. No one was arguing he had a right to be mad, but it wasn't something to lose your friendship over.

She'd been crying a bit,

Harry in particular winced horribly at that. He didn't have that many friends really, and now reflecting back on how he had treated her made him feel even worse. Between that and his residual guilt about Hagrid and Buckbeak, he looked so miserable Lily took pity on him and wrapped her arm around him for comfort. Yes, Harry really should feel guilty and she hoped it would teach him a lesson about this in the future, but since it was so clear how he was feeling now she hoped that was just as strong then and decided he was self-punishing enough.

and told them off for how they'd been treating her, making brooms and rats more important than their friend.

James gave Harry a wane smile, more than happy someone had reminded his son of that. He still looked so guilty none of them dared make fun of him for this.

Ron tried to argue back, saying he'd forgive her if she got rid of Crookshanks, but she was still sticking up for him.

"And he shouldn't really blame her," Sirius sighed, "as he'd be doing the same thing if things were reversed."

Hagrid pointed out that people could get a bit blind when it came to their pets, while Buckbeak spit out some bones onto Hagrid's pillow.

"Timing," Lily couldn't help but giggle.

They stayed late at Hagrid's, both boys trying to get in an apology about not helping out more with Buckbeak, which he waved off as he knew how busy they were. They went back to the castle and spotted when the next Hogsmeade trip was going to be. Ron asked Harry if he was still planning on going in?

"Course he's going," James scoffed, "he still hasn't got a reason not to!"

Harry was agreeing he would when Hermione made her appearance, already looking upset at the overheard conversation.

"Somehow, I think that apology they owe her isn't coming," Sirius sighed as he had a very bad feeling that yet another fight was fixing to break out instead.

She threatened that if Harry went again, she'd tell McGonagall about his map.

"What?" They all snapped.

"Damn Hermione, that's taking it too far," James scowled.

Lily sighed, she really wanted to agree that Hermione was being overtly paranoid, but decided enough was enough and put her foot down and truly defended her this time. "Alright you lot," she snapped before anyone else could say anything. "I'm sorry Sirius, but think about this from her position for a second. You've just gotten into the common rooms, the most secure part of the castle, you can't really sit around and blame her for being worried about Harry being so exposed in the open now. If it was anyone but you, you'd all agree Harry should stay in the castle where it's safe as well."

The boys hesitated before sighing and admitting that fine. The point was they weren't afraid of anything bad happening so they were looking at it another way, but decided harping on Hermione wasn't going to help.

Ron pretended he hadn't even heard.

"Harsh," Remus muttered with a wince.

Hermione still tried, saying Ron was being an idiot after Black had nearly killed him, and she was going to tattle if they didn't stop! Ron jumped that she was going to get Harry kicked out of school!

"They sure toss that word around a lot," James sighed, "but if we got expelled every time we'd snuck out of the castle we'd have set some sort of record by the end of first year."

"I still wouldn't want to get into trouble," Harry reminded, "nor would I want to be asked how I'd gotten in and out."

Hermione wasn't going to back down, until her cat jumped on her lap. Hermione froze up, before scooping him into her arms and bolting upstairs.

"Almost a good thing," Sirius couldn't help but sigh, "that conversation just couldn't have ended well."

Ron kept going like Hermione had never been there, pointing out that Harry hadn't even gotten to see Zonko's last time.

"An actual crime against your age," James nodded seriously.

Harry agreed he'd still go, but he was taking the Cloak.

"Glad you learned that lesson," Sirius approved.

The next morning Harry made it as clear as possible he was waving goodbye to Ron and heading back to the tower with a watchful Hermione's eyes on him.

"You gotten any better at that," Remus snickered, "because you still don't have a very good poker face."

"I've no idea if it fooled her," Harry said with a shrug, dearly hoping it had as he didn't really want to get caught or told on.

He called out a last farewell to Ron, who winked as he passed.

"Subtle," Sirius snorted.

He made to sneak away and go to the statue, when he ran into Neville.

"Damn," they couldn't help but curse, finding that some pretty bad timing.

"Don't suppose you'll just invite him," Remus sighed without any real hope.

"I doubt it," Harry shook his head.

He spotted Harry and said he'd forgotten Harry couldn't go to Hogsmeade either.

"I kind of want to know what he was even doing around there," James sighed, it wasn't a place students normally visited without knowledge of where they were going, especially on off days.

Then he offered to play a game with Harry, who quickly lied and said he had a homework assignment over vampires for Lupin due.

"Jeesh Remus, you know you really could go a lesson without assigning homework," Sirius sighed.

"At least it wasn't two rolls of parchment," Harry smirked.

Neville eagerly asked to join, saying he hadn't finished his either.

"I feel so bad for Neville," Lily frowned, "he obviously wants someone to hang out with. Would it really kill you to let Ron alone for the day and be with him."

Harry winced in sympathy. At the time he'd been absolutely focused on getting into Hogsmeade to be with his friend, he'd not even stopped to consider how Neville must be feeling at the time. If he sat around and thought about it now, he probably would go back and just stay with Neville for the day.

Harry had to quickly rethink and say he had in fact finished that essay.

"You're lying has actually managed to get increasingly worse as time goes on," James snickered.

Neville then asked if Harry could instead help him, unclear on the garlic thing and if they had to eat it or what?

"Tsk tsk Remus, how could you not have covered that in class," Sirius mock scolded.

Remus ignored him and turned to Harry, asking, "did you already do your essay?"

"I'd started it," Harry said evasively, most likely meaning he'd written his name on a sheaf of parchment.

Chuckling Remus then said, "well in answer, it only has to be around them to affect them, in fact getting a vampire to eat garlic would be a miracle even if it would kill them."

Harry didn't get a chance to answer as Snape arrived.

"Oh bloody hell," the boys muttered, automatically annoyed whenever he showed up for any reason.

Neville took a step behind Harry.

Lily scowled all over again, her hatred for that reminder never not making her want to get to her feet and give him more than a telling off.

Snape glared at the two, asking why they'd met there? Then his eyes flickered to the statue.

"You know, he did catch us meeting up there quite a bit," James nodded in remembrance, "I can't really say I'm surprised if he's suspicious."

"Still a paranoid arse," Sirius scowled.

Harry tried to say that they weren't meeting there on purpose, they'd just met there.

"Yes, I'm so sure he believed that clarification," Remus snorted.

Snape clearly didn't buy it, telling Harry he tended to be in places he wasn't supposed to.

"As far as he's concerned," Lily scowled, "when have you ever really been anywhere you aren't supposed to be?" She didn't really think he was referring to all of his crazy stunts he'd pulled during last year and the year before, as he probably didn't know much about those then the barest of facts, so his claim was still pretty biased.

"Like that's ever stopped him making snide comments," James huffed.

Then he told them both to get back to their common room.

Harry rolled his eyes that time, growing quite tired of constantly being told he was supposed to spend every waking moment in that tower instead of roaming the castle like every other student.

The two boys walked off, Harry glancing back to find Snape running his hand over the statue's head.

"Like he'll figure it out," Sirius said with confidence. It had taken them doing a favor for one of the paintings just to get a hint, no way could Snape really know.

Harry finally got rid of Neville as he lied and said he'd left his homework in the Library, giving him the password before running off.

"That'll work," Remus sighed, still half wishing Harry would have told him and brought him along, having noted for quite some time it never really mentioned Neville hanging out with any of his friends, but knowing by now it wasn't worth bringing it up to Harry. It seemed all the more harsh since Harry wouldn't be back for hours, and Neville would just feel dumped.

Harry pulled out his map and found Snape down in his office.

"Wish he wouldn't come out of there, ever," Sirius huffed.

He quickly made his way through the proper channels and finished his route to the cellar.

"He's already such a pro," James gave a satisfied sigh, pretending to wipe a proud tear away, though the feeling itself was real.

When he did get there, he had to explain to Ron in a whisper from under the cloak that he'd been held up by Snape. The journey was confusing for Ron as they left the shop, as he constantly whispered where Harry was?

"A fair question," Remus snickered, a few occasions coming to mind of when they'd done something similar, though normally it was for a set up to a prank.

"Though not recommended, otherwise people are going to wonder why you're talking to yourself," Sirius snorted.

They went inside Zonko's,

"One of the most important shops in there," James nodded seriously.

where they found uncountable prank items that would make Fred and George turn green with envy,

"Wouldn't surprise me if they have that store completely memorized," Sirius chuckled.

and each bought a set of items.

"Completely worth it then," Remus agreed.

Then they made their way to the back of the village, towards the Shrieking Shack.

All three boys now had nostalgic smiles creeping across their faces, having spent so many long hours in that place it almost felt as much a home to them as Hogwarts itself.

They got to the top and Ron explained that even the schools ghosts didn't go in there.

"I'm fairly sure that's because Dumbledore asked them not to, once I started hanging around in there," Remus shrugged, "added to the fear factor."

Ron had even heard Fred and George had tried to break in, but couldn't get past any of the windows or doors.

"All the visible ones," Sirius smirked.

"I don't know why they tried," Lily rolled her eyes, "what do they think they're going to find in there?"

"That's the fun of it," James explained, "finding out."

Harry was starting to feel a little stuffy under his cloak, and was just considering taking it off for some air when they heard approaching voices.

"Typical," Remus rolled his eyes.

They didn't have to wait long to find Malfoy,

"Gah," Sirius ground out in frustration, "what the bloody hell is with their rotten timing."

and his two friends coming up, talking loudly about how Malfoy's dad should be sending him a letter soon telling how the trail went their way, and he'd been there to testify on his son's behalf for not having his arm for months.

Sirius scowled and grumbled something, still unable to believe anyone could be so intent on getting one guy in so much trouble. What had Hagrid ever done to this kid?

Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

"Trollishly, with absolutely no brains of their own," James continued as if reading that.

"No need for that James, we already knew it," Lily smirked.

Malfoy was lamenting he wished he could have been there in person to watch Hagrid defend him,

"Wish your arse would get expelled for starting this mess," Remus scowled.

when he saw Ron and grinned.

"Well this can't be good," Lily's frown deepened as she assessed this situation. Malfoy thought Ron was up there on his own, and if Harry helped him he'd most likely get caught. This could cause a huge mess.

He laughed when he saw what Ron was looking at, declaring that the old shack looked like a palace compared to the box his family must live in.

Harry ground his teeth together in frustration, dearly hoping he used the opportunity he had in 0hand to get some well-deserved revenge on Malfoy.

Ron looked like he was going to go at Malfoy, but Harry grabbed him,

"Do you ever let your friend have any fun?" Sirius demanded with a pout.

"I'm with Sirius on this one," Remus scoffed in agitation, "he deserves anything Ron would do for that comment."

Harry looked at his mother, expecting her to say something, but she simply shrugged and said, "I'd rather you not get in trouble for what I know you're about to do, but so long as you're not expelled, I agree. It'll be worth it."

James laughed boisterously, nearly bouncing in place at what this could mean.

and whispered to him that he'd deal with it.

"Yes!" All of the boys cheered, more than pleased at the opportunity's this could have.

Harry began sneaking around behind them, eyes on a puddle of mud.

Sirius was practically vibrating in place he was stifling his laughter so much. Harry wasn't even using a spell, which gave him all the more deniability.

As Malfoy continued to mock Ron, Harry scooped up a bit, and chucked with perfect aim as the brown goop landed in Malfoy's hair.

James had to stop reading for several minutes, he was too busy catching his breath back with laughter. This little brat had deserved some retribution for so long now, that this visual image was one he knew he'd treasure for as long as possible. He only kept going because he recognized there was still potential mayhem to come.

Malfoy spun around, demanding to know who'd done that,

"Karma," Lily smirked.

while Ron tried to keep himself upright while voicing how haunted he'd heard this place was.

Remus almost fell off the couch laughing at Ron's very appropriate comment.

Crabbe and Goyle were looking very unsure now, knowing their muscles wouldn't do any good against ghosts.

"Not much use at all really," Sirius said brightly, since neither moron would find their target with Harry keeping the cloak on.

Harry was still busy though, instead walking around towards a puddle of green sludge, and throwing that towards the bullies.

Lily had to keep her hand firmly in lock around her mouth to try and muffle her giggling at the mental image of all of this, while the boys weren't even trying so it was getting kind of hard to hear the rest, which only made James read louder.

The other two got some in the face that time as Malfoy snapped he'd seen it coming from half a dozen feet away from where Harry really was.

Remus tried to make a comment, but he was still laughing to hard and couldn't suck in the air to do so.

Crabbe tried to blunder forward, arms outstretched, but Harry whacked him with a stick forcing him to do a pirouette.

"You're killing me," Sirius wheezed, not looking any kind of upset if this was how he was to go.

Goyle instead tried to turn at Ron,

Lily couldn't help but wince now, she hadn't seen that coming, but didn't even bother to linger on it as she knew Harry wouldn't let his friend get hurt by that thug.

and Harry cut him off by sticking out his leg, which the brute managed to catch the hem of his cloak as he fell.

"Bollocks," the four boys suddenly hissed, most traces of amusement starting to disappear at once. They really couldn't go just one chapter with pure amusement could they?

The cloak almost fell free, revealing Harry's head. Malfoy just stood there for a second, staring,

"Well it was fun while it lasted," James groaned, sinking back into his seat and closing his eyes for a moment, imagining all the horrible outcomes this could cause, before reading on in a grave tone now as he, naively he was sure, hoped nothing to bad would happen because of this.

before screaming,

Remus still couldn't help a lingering snicker at that. Of all the reactions he could have had, screaming in fright like that had to be his favorite.

and running for it with his friends on his heels.

"Well that was fun," Sirius still had a small smile in place. "Don't suppose you can do it again some time."

"I hope so," Harry laughed, his joy at getting his payback to those bullies making up for any punishment he may get. He couldn't really put a finger on it, but he got the feeling whatever punishment it was, wasn't even too bad.

Ron was telling Harry he'd better get back before Malfoy tells what he'd seen.

"Not like anyone would believe him," Lily said without any real hope. One teacher in particular came to mind who would believe anything Malfoy says, and would love to get Harry into trouble.

"As far as they know, Harry has no way to get there. They would think Malfoy was making something up to get Harry into trouble."

"Any other teacher would believe that," James grumbled, knowing the anxious tones in Lily's voice meant she was thinking of Snape being the only exception to that, just like they were.

Harry agreed and called he'd meet up with him later,

"Not even a compliment on how brilliant that was," Sirius sighed, though he personally understood the need for urgency now. Ron could give congratulations later in private.

and ran back to Honeydukes, worrying if Malfoy would believe what he'd just seen.

"Most likely. I'll doubt he's known for his imagination," Remus grumbled.

If he'd tell anyone?

"I can think of one," Harry huffed.

No one knew he had the cloak, except Dumbledore.

"Uhoh," all five of them muttered, having honestly forgotten about that. It was true though, if Snape took this to Dumbledore like he surely would, would the headmaster do something against Harry? Would he take away his cloak even?

Harry was racing along, trying to get back to the castle, wondering how long it would take Malfoy to come across a teacher?

"Not long," Sirius scowled, "since the little brat's probably got the way memorized, all the time he's snitched on other kids."

He reached the end of the tunnel and tucked his cloak away into a corner still inside, deciding if he did get caught he didn't want that to be on him.

"Very good thinking," James praised. If Harry didn't have that on him, even Dumbledore couldn't really prove what Harry had done. Maybe he really would get away with this!

Then he scrambled out and tried to put on an innocent face as he heard someone heading his way.

"Bloody hell," Remus groaned, "couldn't even make it back to the dormitory."

It was Snape.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" Sirius cried in exasperation. "Him! Why would he even go there first, that's not even on the way to Gryffindor tower!"

"Suspicious, nosy, paranoid, git-" James kept grumbling under his breath, and probably would have kept going if Sirius didn't nudge him and say, "and many more mate, but keep going."

Sighing in resignation, James accepted.

Harry did his best to look casual, which may not have been working to well with his red face, which could have been why Snape greeted him with a 'so.'

"So what?" Remus snipped quietly.

He looked quite pleased as he glared down at Harry, who shoved his mud covered hands inside his pocket.

Lily face palmed, not even needing to point out how ineffective that really was.

He told Harry to follow him, while Harry was trying to wipe his hands clean inside his pockets.

"Good luck with that," James sighed without any confidence. He was still trying to console himself that this would have to be taken up with McGonagall before something too bad could be done, and she wouldn't do anything that couldn't be proven. James was confident that she actually couldn't prove he'd snuck into Hogsmeade, so aside from maybe some house points being taken away by Snape for, well being Snape, nothing too bad should happen.

They went to Snape's office,

Lily ground her teeth together in frustration, more than sick of him trying to dole out punishment for Harry when he didn't have anything to do with him.

which Harry had only been in once before when he'd been in serious trouble.

"Well I am always in trouble, but why would you bring it up now," Sirius quipped, smirking wildly and at least making Harry laugh, who hadn't heard the never ending array that joke could be used. Not yet. Give it till the end of his seventh year, maybe by then.

He noticed Snape had gotten his hands on a few more jars filled with things.

"One's probably his own heart," Remus hissed into Sirius' ear.

"He'd have to have one first," Sirius muttered right back, trying to suppress a snicker.

Snape closed the door and told Harry to sit, which he did.

Sirius scowled with the height of distaste, a horrible dog joke coming to mind that made him want to strangle Snivellus all over again.

Snape began by saying that Malfoy had come to him with an odd tale, how he'd been minding his own business out in Hogsmeade when he'd come across Ron, seemingly on his own. Harry said nothing.

"Best recommendation at this point," Lily agreed, rubbing her brows in preparation for what could come.

Then Mr. Malfoy had been having a pleasant chat with Weasley,

Remus couldn't help but grind his teeth in frustration at this continued and obvious favoritism, even in the way he addressed the students.

"A chat," Sirius scoffed in disgust, but James didn't even bother since they were all aware of what a load of bull that was.

when he'd seen something odd. Harry tried to look surprised,

"I get the feeling you could be a prize winning actor and you couldn't convince him of that look," James sighed.

and Snape began glaring at Harry meeting his eyes. Harry tried not to blink, remembering his hippogriff lesson.

"Not a bad comparison, though I still favor the hippogriff," Sirius nodded in agreement.

Then Snape continued that Malfoy had seen Harry's head. Harry tried to put some concern in his voice that maybe he should go up to the hospital wing if Malfoy was seeing things-

The three boys on the couch lost it, cracking up with unrestrained laughter at Harry's attempts to play that off. Lily couldn't help a twitching smile as well, snickers coming through as she really did picture this from some other teachers point of view and how that would sound.

James was quick to get his breath back though, knowing that if Harry could keep this up in front of Snape, he should get out from McGonagall in no time, and just be more careful the next time he went out. Also he realized he owed Harry an apology, that was a beautiful on the spot fib.

Snape cut him off by saying that Harry's head wasn't allowed out there, no part of his body was.

"I didn't know the form was body part specific," Remus was still chuckling in between bits of speech, "maybe someone should specify that."

Harry agreed he was aware, and again voiced Malfoy should be checked if he was having hallucinations. Snape cut him off again, telling him that Malfoy was not the one with the problem as he leaned down into Harry's face.

That dried up most of their humor, each of them scowling at the threat that he needed to back up now on the tip of all of their tongues. He had no right to be getting in Harry's face like that! His bully like behavior was getting progressively worse as the years wore on, and it was ripping at every one of their nerves.

Telling Harry that if his head had been in there, so was the rest of him.

"Now that's just a tad presumptuous," Sirius defended halfheartedly, trying for a smile he no longer felt.

Harry deflected he'd been up in his common room, and Snape demanded if anyone could back that up.

James quickly snapped his mouth shut with worry, his mind quickly flickering to Neville and wondering if he could possibly be convinced to lie for Harry for this very important matter... there was a chink he hadn't thought of. Glancing up at his son, he comforted himself that he still didn't think any of this was bad enough for expulsion. After all they'd been caught out all the time, so there really was no way it would go that far bad. With that slightly comforting thought he kept going.

Harry didn't answer, causing Snape to smile.

"Didn't even know he could form that," Sirius hissed.

He was almost pleased now as he taunted Harry that despite the whole world out there trying to protect famous Harry Potter from Sirius Black, the boy was going to do what he wanted and be damned what came of it.

Lily opened and closed her mouth several times in outrage, so many insults welling up she didn't know where to start! The very first of which was 'stop treating him like James!' While an outsider may be able to see the point Snape was making, his opinion he'd just foisted was completely biased! The other boys were muttering their own foulings, but James was far too used to this kind of thing, no matter how enraged it made him to hear it being thrown at his son, so he forced himself to keep going, wanting to find out the punishment already.

Harry still said nothing, knowing Snape couldn't prove anything.

"There's the bright side," Remus sighed.

Snape was still goading Harry, telling him how much like his father he was.

James gave a wane smile, looking over to his spitting image and stating, "to be perfectly honest, I actually find more of your mother's spirit in you then me, looks aside obviously."

Lily giggled a bit, not at all disagreeing with that statement. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before shrugging, agreeing out loud with that. Harry clearly did have his father's knack for causing trouble, though not nearly in the same way. In fact if they did pile it up, Harry was a lot like Lily in her school days. Maybe that was what was pissing Snape off more than anything.

How exceedingly arrogant a man James Potter had been,

"Exceedingly is a bit much-" James began, but one snort of disbelief from his wife and James slunk back to the book with only a semichasted look.

how just a bit of prows at the game of Quidditch,

"Now that was just rude," Sirius grumbled, completely ignoring Lily's now rolling eyes.

had made him think he was better than anyone as well. He could always be seen strutting about the castle to his many fans, and just how much Harry truly acted like this.

Remus was torn between wanting to laugh in remembrance of the many times he could count James acting like a loon in front of his peers, what he thought Snape meant, and wanting to defend his friend, so he was left with an odd expression which the others ignored.

Harry snapped back that his dad never strutted!

"Oh yes he did," Lily rolled her eyes with far more affection than her husband ever would have believed coloring her tone in speaking of this. Harry looked mildly startled, but she was still going "but to his credit, his arrogance started to wain out, something I don't think Snape ever noticed."

"At least you did," James smiled over at her, earning a bright curl of the lips right back.

And neither did he!

"Now that I absolutely believe," Sirius agreed.

Snape was getting more pleased now at clearly having pushed Harry's buttons, telling how James Potter had never given anyone who wasn't a Quidditch winner so much as a glance, his head was so big- Harry lost his temper and told him to shut up!

While James had looked mildly annoyed while reading this, it was hardly the most insulting thing he'd ever heard come from this guy's mouth. No, the worst part was him saying this to his son!

Harry didn't know a thing about him, this definitely wasn't some of the things he'd like being boasted around. He kept it bottled up though, pride and glee cracking through when Harry finally cracked and said what needed saying.

Harry was on his feet now, just as angry then as he'd been back on Marge's incident on Private Drive.

"People are taking a lot of shots at you this year aren't they," Sirius grimaced in disgust.

"Least Harry keeps them in their place," Remus pacified.

Harry was honestly surprised, they didn't seem nearly as upset about this as they had that previous chapter, but then he realized that they probably heard this type of thing so often from Snape that it just rolled off of them. Coming from someone like Marge had hurt far worse because of the terrible way she'd slammed it into Harry without ever having even met him.

Snape's hand twitched towards his pocket.

Lily made a 'tch' noise of disbelief, knowing he wouldn't dare raise a wand to her son, or he'd lose that whole arm. Besides, he definitely deserved that one.

Harry didn't back down though, repeating that Snape needed to shut up about his dad! Dumbledore had told him the truth, about how his dad had saved Snape's life.

All three boys twitched with discomfort at that unfriendly reminder, and Harry frowned in confusion. Of course he remembered that coming up during the first book, and how they'd managed to hedge around the question, never having gotten the full story. What about it could be so bad that the three of them looked almost as bad as when he'd thrown that in Snape's face?

James looked the opposite of eager about explaining this, and hoping to forestall Harry asking, kept reading in hopes something else would distract him.

Snape scowled, demanding to know if Dumbledore had told him the whole story? Harry hesitated, and it was enough of an answer for Snape to continue.

James face twisted with even more unease, this was the opposite of what he'd been hoping for. What could he do though? Either he turn and tell Harry now about the worst fight the Marauders ever had, or he let Snape come up with some half-truth that he would have seen which would paint a far more horrible light.

He was still debating, dearly wanting to put this off, when Sirius released a horrible suffering sigh and groaned, "alright, alright. This is something I never wanted you to hear, but I guess I'd rather it come from me then him."

Harry was frowning in genuine concern at Sirius as he started to explain what exactly had happened that night. Starting with how he'd taunted Snape by telling him Remus' secret location under the Whomping Willow and how everything had spiraled out of control from there. He left out the part where his friends had blamed him as much as Snape for the cruel prank, how they hadn't spoken to him for months afterwards. He didn't bother with the defenses he'd used back then, how he'd never have believed Snape would take him at his word and really go check it out, no he wouldn't try and save face so many years later in front of Harry.

Once he was done he braced himself, eyeing Harry with more fear than any of them could ever imagine could cross his face. Sirius couldn't help it though, he honestly was expecting for Harry to have a sudden revelation. Now that he realized he was capable of murder, whether unintentionally or not, could this possibly jog Harry's memories? Make him remember something that would connect what the Ministry was saying about him in his own time? He'd seemed adamant so far, but...

"So, it was an accident," Harry confirmed, watching him critically. At the stunned look on his Godfather's face, Harry's relaxed into his more natural easy going look and continued, "err, at least, well I understand you'd never do anything like that on purpose. Sure it was dumb, but I can hardly judge and say I've never done something that bad before."

"You've hardly sent Ron into the den of one of your best friends the night he was to turn into a werewolf," Sirius rebutted, still looking like he was sitting on a hot seat. James elbowed him, hard, making Sirius slink away from him and rub at his side absently.

Remus was quick to say, "knock it off Sirius, this is something long over. Harry's decided the same thing we did, err, in the end." He finished lamely, not really meeting anyone's eyes.

Lily was watching all of them with general mixed feelings. She vividly remembered the time in school where four Marauders became three for quite a few months. This had happened a few days after she'd officially stopped talking to Snape, so she hadn't really known anyone who even had the slightest idea why this could be. All she knew was that after that terrible Quidditch game where Sirius had been knocked out of the air, things seemed to have patched up between the lot. She found it fascinating to finally get the full story on this, but kept her opinion of it to herself since it was basically the same as Harry's.

Sirius still looked miserable at the reminder, James and Remus very uncomfortable with the whole topic, though both of them still clearly defending him made it clear they didn't really hold a grudge anymore. Still, when Harry didn't say anything else, James decided to turn to the book and managed to read out whatever tosh Snape had strung together from that.

Telling how James Potter had not been a saint in saving Snape's life, but was out there for his own skin. How he and his friends had tried to pull a joke on him, and he would have died if James hadn't chickened out before they could go through with it. Of course they had backed out because they hadn't wanted to get expelled.

"Is that what he thought?" Sirius muttered, still slumped into the couch and looking as surely as any other time his name had been mentioned so far, this possibly being the least pleasant reminder to date! James absently kicked him to get him to shut it, still wanting to get past this as fast as possible.

Then Snape switched tactics and told Harry to empty his pockets.

"Still doesn't prove a thing," Remus muttered.

Harry hesitated, and Snape said that if he didn't they'd go up to Dumbledore.

"Honestly I think we'd all prefer that," Lily groused.

Harry did, revealing his bag of Zonko's treats and the blank map. Snape picked up the Zonko's bag, and Harry quickly said Ron had given that to him from the last time he'd been there.

"You've gotten so much better at those on the spot type lies," James praised with warmth, ignoring Lily's rolling eyes at thinking the same thing.

Snape sneered that Harry had kept them on him this whole time?

"Okay, getting caught with them is still kind of bad," Remus agreed with a wince as they could possibly implicate Harry in some other bad things, "but it's still not proof he'd been to Hogsmeade."

Then he picked up the map, and Harry quickly said that was just some spare parchment.

Snape wasn't impressed, saying it looked so old they may as well throw it out.

"Why would he?" Sirius demanded, finally distracted enough to look grumpy at this particular subject now. "Is he baiting Harry, it's not like he could know what that was."

"That's all I can think of," James agreed.

He went to toss it into the fire, and Harry shouted at him to stop. Snape was obviously pleased now, asking if this was yet another gift from his friend?

"Yes," Remus said, his eyes lighting up with glee all of a sudden. "If Harry goes with that, or if Snape doesn't believe him and tries for himself," he trailed off with a surprising burst of laughter that left Harry and Lily stumped. James looked quite pleased though, and seemed to be hoping something along the same lines. He didn't give the two out of the know the chance to ask though.

Then he speculated what else it could be, like some secret way to get into Hogsmeade that didn't involve traveling past dementors.

"Actually, he's not too far off," Lily muttered.

When Harry didn't answer, Snape pulled out his wand and tapped the parchment, telling it to reveal its secrets.

James lost it for a moment, forced to stop reading so that he could let out his own bursting laughter in anticipation for what was about to happen. Sirius and Remus weren't fairing much better, their faces bright red with anticipation for this. James wrangled himself back under control and continued almost normally.

Nothing happened, and Harry had to remind himself to keep breathing.

Lily's curiosity was beginning to wane out as she said, "are you lot really laughing like idiots because he can't get it to work? That's hardly so funny."

"Wait for it," James insisted, his eyes shining with so much held in laughter it was a wonder he could still see straight.

Then Snape instead said his full name and false title as ruler of this school for this object to tell what it knew while hitting it with his wand again.

"Yes!" Sirius cheered, that had been exactly what they'd been waiting for! Harry didn't bother to ask this time, but instead bounced eagerly so he could hear the punchline of this built up joke as well.

Finally something did happen, and the map activated, but not in the usual way. Instead words were appearing like someone was writing it down, and it said 'Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.'

All of the boys lost it, Sirius even falling off the couch laughing and still unable to stop himself. Lily was watching them with a combination of annoyance and repressed humor. She dearly wanted to ask if they'd somehow specialized this just for Snape, but somehow expected otherwise. She remembered one memorable occasion where a Ravenclaw had come across some old scrap of parchment Peter had been holding, and the then Head Boy had demanded to know what it was. When Peter had said nothing, the boy had rightfully not believed that having prior experience with all of the Marauders, and took it away and performed a similar command on the paper. Lily had never seen what had become of all this, but the boy had looked highly offended, and Peter was cracking up laughing while telling that it was a joke bit of parchment where if you said your name, it was charmed to insult you. With this memory floating back to the surface, she could no longer repress it and was laughing downy near as hard as the others, even as James sucked air back into his lungs and read out the next bit.

Both Harry and Snape froze up, but more words continued appearing: 'Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.'

Sirius hadn't recovered from the first comment, and was remarkably able to double up his amusement, though how that was possible none of them had been sure. Maybe it was an overreaction, it really wasn't even that funny or creative an insult, but they all had the sneaking suspicion that Sirius had been under so much stress for literally all day now, he was letting loose a lot of pent up feelings in releasing as much laughter as possible in these opportune moments now, so still snickering along himself, James kept reading.

Harry may have laughed if this wasn't such a serious situation.

Sirius couldn't have made the joke right now even if he wanted to, he was too invested in continuing to listen to his most prized possession insult someone in the most poetic of justice ways possible.

The map was still going, the next one saying: 'Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.'

"My sentiments exactly," Remus agreed fondly, still watching Sirius come back to earth just slightly as his exploding laughter began backing down in cackling, still rubbing at his ribs and brushing tears out of his eyes as he listened to the final one.

The map finished its final words with: 'Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.'

"That," Harry told them, slightly red in the face himself from laughing so hard, "was bloody brilliant. How on earth did you get it to do that?"

"Charm wasn't that hard," Remus waved away, "all you have to do is command it to obey you while stating your name and those kinds of things will pop up."

"The reason Padfoot here lost his arse during it," James continued while looking down at his friend with all the amusement he had, "is that he tried to convince us for ages to pull this on him during school. Just leave it about one day and Snape was sure to do it, the pompous git would never not if he knew it belonged to us. He's now getting to witness a prank we'd never done."

"And enjoying every last second of it," Sirius murmured, face flushed with excitement as he sat upright and looked at the book with the first real affection. This was still the worst possible day of his life hands down, but that little moment right there had almost made it all worth it.

In between girlish giggles, Lily managed to get out, "well I hope that convinces Snape enough that you haven't been up to anything. You could have just as easily gotten that from Zonko's along with the other stuff Ron got you."

James really hoped that were the case, as he didn't have any more to go at Harry with.

Snape huffed and stalked over to his fire, tossing some green powder into it.

"What on earth?" Sirius began in surprise, having not seen this coming one bit, but James wasn't giving him the chance to question it too much as he read.

Then he spoke into the flames, calling for Lupin to come to his office.

"Why!?" Lily spluttered in shock. Of all the teachers for him to have summoned and consult, why him?

"Do you think he knew?" Remus asked curiously. "That it used to be mine? I really didn't think he'd recognize it."

"Well he did stalk us enough," James said with a perturbed look, "but even if he did put that together, and bloody hell that's a leap since he'd have no way of knowing how Harry got that, that it was the exact same one even, what's he expect you to do? Admit to it all? You don't even know Harry has it."

They were all stumped beyond reason of Snape's logic with this, but hoped that reading would help them out.

Said Professor appeared, stepping out of the fire and dusting off the soot and looking around in confusion.

"Bet I was every bit as confused by that summons," Remus told, still finding it odd now with the proper backstory.

Lupin asked why he was here in a mild tone.

"Be happy that was mild rather than blistering," Lily muttered into Harry's ear, who nodded despite not having needed that, he now understood better than ever the animosity between his family and Snape.

Snape agreed he had while going back to his desk, looking more furious than ever.

'Pretty sure that's not all for Harry's circumstances' James mentally grumbled, imagining Snape might have summoned Remus just to have a little more time to berate him in front of Harry.

He explained Harry's circumstances and pointed out the map, and Lupin's face closed off.

"I can only imagine," Remus laughed for now, fairly sure how mind boggling he'd be at Harry coming across that on his own.

Snape had to prompt him to speak, and Harry got the feeling Lupin was having to think fast.

"You choose now to freeze up eh?" Sirius demanded with a crooked smirk, since he was normally the one to come up with the best excuses of the lot of them.

"I'd like to see you do one better with this," Remus shot right back, even now scrambling for a reason Harry would have this, while pressing past the shock of him having it, and probably having to skip over several bumpy memories in the process of shock.

Snape spoke up again, saying how this bit of paper clearly held Dark Magic.

Lily gave a derisive snort of mirth as she mocked, "oh please, it insulted him, it didn't curse him. When did he become so dramatic?"

None of the boy's fancied adding on to that, torn between wanting to laugh and fearing anything they did say Lily still wouldn't be pleased with no matter what she said now.

Lupin looked to Harry then, warning him to keep silent.

"I would have without the look," Harry shrugged, "I was as wound up as you trying to come up with some way out of this."

Then he began that Dark Magic was a bit much, it was obviously just a bit of parchment that insulted you.

"I'd take his word on this," James said with a straight face, "call me crazy, but for some odd reason I think he knows what he's talking about."

Sirius began snickering again, and Remus didn't look much better.

He admitted it was childish,

"Oi," Sirius hooted in protest, "this was my idea!"

"And I called it childish then to," Remus reminded with a smirk in place.

but most likely just a mild prank. Snape looked even more angry now.

"What did he expect?" Lily rolled her eyes in contempt. "Did he honestly think you were going to side with him, try and get Harry into trouble for this?"

"Still have no idea," Harry sighed.

Snape insisted that he thought Harry had gotten it from the manufacturers.

That stopped James cold, sharing a stunned look with his friends as they realized they may have been wrong, and Snape really had made that leap. Harry understood far better now than he would have then, asking, "why on earth would he think one of you had given it to me?"

"I've no idea," Sirius admitted, head cocked to the side as he eyed the book, "guess he does know it was ours, maybe the nicknames or something gave it away, but what is he thinking? I gave it to you? There's no way you'd have accepted it considering what you think of me then-" he covered the horrible wince poorly, but kept going anyways. "That means he either thinks you inherited it from James, or Remus gave it to you just this year."

"While I can kind of see him thinking I'd do it," Remus shrugged, "why would he call me in to ask? Even if I had, what's it to him if I did, it's not illegal."

"Trying to trip you up maybe," James offered, "showing special treatment to Harry. As for him getting it from me, that could also be true, he hasn't caught Harry with it the previous two years so for all he knows..." he trailed off, but no one had any real idea what Snape was really thinking.

Even Lily felt stumped trying to understand his logic in this, though this stung far more than she was expecting it to. There was a time where she had perfectly understood her best friends every motion and idea before he said it, now she couldn't begin to fathom this one. It was more than disconcerting to realize how far apart they'd come, no matter how many times she realized it.

With no answers, James was hoping Remus might have some better insight while talking to Snape so read.

Harry had no idea what that could mean, and Lupin didn't seem to either.

"Well if there's one thing he can do, it's play dumb," Sirius agreed with a smirk, taking the smack Remus gave him for the tone without remorse.

He tried to laugh it off, referring to the Mr. Wormtail.

Remus' face gave an odd twitch, guessing that having to say any of those names in this time period would have been pretty wrenching for him.

Then he asked Harry if he knew any of those people. Harry said he didn't, and Lupin looked like the matter was settled as he decided it was probably just a Zonko gift. Ron came sprinting in then.

"Timing!" Sirius cried with glee, Harry's best friend getting major brownie points with him if he stormed in and backed all of this up like he hoped.

He was red faced and doubled over from panting,

"Well that's not an encouraging start," Lily groaned, eying the book with fear as she realized what Snape would have, why would he be so out of breath and freaking out if Harry wasn't supposed to be in trouble?

but quickly said that he'd given Harry all of that stuff.

"I'm so proud," James fake sniffled, using the corner of the page to pretend to wipe away a tear, while real pride was welling up in him for Ron cottoning on and being the perfect alibi right when Harry needed him.

Lupin looked all too happy now as he brushed his hands together,

"I'm positive it was taking everything in me not to burst out laughing at that display," Remus snickered now.

and decided that was that. He picked the map back up and put it inside his own coat.

"Thank Merlin," Sirius breathed, having feared Snape might still try to confiscate that and keep it away from Harry, but then his eyes lit up all over again as he crowed, "oh sweet! Do you lot know what this could mean?"

"Harry and Ron get to go rub it in the twins face they got away with this," James answered.

"Well that to," Sirius agreed, before turning on Remus and nearly bouncing in pleasure as he said, "but, this could be your window! You've been stalling all this time probably because of how weird it would be for you to get started explaining this to him, but this could be perfect for you! Pulling him aside and explaining the manufacturing comment to Harry."

His eyes were shining with so much bright hope and happiness, Remus didn't have the heart to tell him that he doubted this as much as Sirius thought it to be true. He'd made it perfectly obvious in this future he wanted as little to do with Harry as possible, which made him feel like he was being skinned alive now, but it had been so long since he'd seen Sirius back to full jubilant life he only nodded and added his agreement he hoped this to be true, while bracing himself by leaning away in preparation for the opposite.

The other three noticed what Sirius refused to take note of, and were all equally torn at both possibilities. James couldn't think of anything to say though, deciding not to address it until after whatever happened.

He called Harry and Ron after him, saying he wanted to ask something about the homework he'd assigned them.

"Subtle," Lily muttered under her breath, though not loud enough to interrupt as she was just as eager as anyone for Remus blatantly pulling Harry aside, a good start.

He led them up to the main entrance, but before Harry could say anything Lupin cut in that he didn't want to hear it, he knew for a fact that the map had been taken by Filch years ago.

"What a way to start," Sirius cackled, ignoring the growing ache when he realized that they hadn't exactly gone somewhere more private like this chat deserved.

He said he knew quite well it was a map at Harry and Ron's shocked faces.

"You really threw us off right then," Harry shrugged with a happy smile, "I later made the joke you were better at predictions then Trelawney."

"Nah," James laughed, "just more insight."

He wasn't going to ask how he'd found it,

"Really though, I think I would have been more than impressed at the turn of events," Remus gave a wane smile, all the while shriveling up on the inside as it was more than obvious his tone was scolding and not nearly as approachable as he'd been hoping for.

Sirius was the only one who was holding out hope how this could turn around.

but he was shocked that Harry hadn't handed it in after the last bit of paper that allowed someone to get into the castle.

"Ouch," Lily winced, finding that particularly harsh while Sirius lost any enthusiasm and slumped back into the couch with a new weight added on top of his chest, this continued attitude making him feel like pulling out his hair.

Then he said he wasn't going to give it back.

"Really Remus," Harry groaned, looking like a kicked puppy. While at the time he had given up without argument for the sake of some answers, right now his tone equally matched the shock and disappointment of the others.

"That's it, you're officially disowned," Sirius huffed, his voice just not up to its normal teasing tone as he watched Remus curiously. "You've turned into an old killjoy, and I'm going to need your Marauders card back."

He held out his hand expectantly, but Remus didn't play along. He was busy twisting away at the hem of his robes, counting every instance of how he'd acted in this future and how the longer this dragged on the more he was convinced Sirius was right. He had changed, and he didn't like it one little bit. It truly scared the crap out of him what had become of him.

James gave a pitiful sigh, he wanted to join in with Sirius, maybe make a crack Remus had just taken it for nostalgic reasons or some nonsense, but he was so emotionally drained by this point he just couldn't bring himself to do it, so he pressed on loudly, just hoping that this would all somehow look better in tomorrow's morning light.

Harry didn't argue, he wanted to ask a question.

Harry rolled his eyes, clearly not feeling that way now, but Remus was doing a good enough job of looking contrite about doing this he didn't see the point in adding on.

Instead he asked about the manufacturing comment. Lupin didn't seem keen on answering, but did say that the mapmakers would have found it hilarious to sneak Harry out of the castle.

"Some of us would," Sirius grumbled with an eye roll, and Remus flinched like Sirius had really just tried to hurt him. Sirius felt guilty at once, realizing his friend had spent all day giving him any and all comfort and convincing him he hadn't turned into this horrible thing everyone else said, and here he was doing the opposite for his friend. So he instead leaned over and whispered into his ear, "of course you'd insist on coming no matter what we said, no matter how stupid you found it."

Remus just grunted, not finding Sirius' picking on him as comforting as Sirius had hoped, so Sirius decided he'd have to try something else.

Harry asked if Lupin had known them, and he agreed they'd met.

"We've met," James repeated with an eye roll, "oh yeah, a few years back maybe, not sure what happened in the meantime, think some kid got slimed at one point, it's all a blur." James had been trying to get a rise out of Remus as well, but it was clear Remus had all but shut down for the night and was only listening with the vaguest of attention.

He was looking at Harry more seriously than ever before.

"You're right Moony," Sirius nodded in agreement, "that has come up the most in this book, I think it's doing it on purpose just for me."

"Yet another reason I've hated this year," James grumbled when the other didn't respond.

He told Harry that he couldn't force him to take Black seriously,

"Oh Merlin," Remus groaned at the smile that blossomed on said man's face, that shook him out of his shock to look even more disgusted with himself if that were possible. "Now even I'm doing it! Now I know something's happened to me, I must have had head trauma at some point."

Sirius was too busy being pleased Remus had just responded to anything to back up the joke.

but he would have thought that the effect the dementors had on him would make him act better. It would be some payback to his parents if he lost his life over some magic toys.

"Ouch," Lily winced for Harry, while James looked oddly torn between wanting to agree with Lily that this had been way too harsh, and wanting to laugh that James had risked his life for less sometimes just for the sake of a joke. He'd been pretty careless in his youth, he'd admit that about some of the stunts he'd pulled around school, and Remus doing this now felt as low as Snape calling him on it earlier. Maybe they were right, maybe Remus really had changed, and it wasn't making anyone feel any better. Could they really say anything though, Remus was his own person and if he really had moved on or somehow changed in this time they didn't really think they had a right to criticize him for it. It didn't make Lily feel any better about what he'd just said, wanting more than anything to snap at him he didn't really have a right to say anything for them, but then she really looked at Remus and saw that he was fixing to have his own break down right along with Sirius if something didn't change soon and she held it in.

Remus refused to say what he was really thinking though, that this scary new person carrying his name was acting so new, had he changed so much towards Sirius as well? He'd been so positive this whole time he must be helping Sirius, but now...he remembered back to the news that Sirius would be given a Dementor's Kiss if he was caught, and the bland way he'd reacted in the future to the news. He'd had a mini coronary over the realization then that he hadn't seemed to care one way or the other, was that really true? Was he such a completely different person, he actually wasn't even helping out Sirius? All of these things kept smashing around in his mind like gongs, and between that and his exhausted body physically, it was all he could do to keep listening to James read and keep his surroundings in focus without slipping further into a mental breakdown.

Then he left with Harry feeling worse than he had yet when confronted with Snape. He and Ron began heading back to Gryffindor tower, not bothering to stop by and grab the cloak.

"Maybe for the best for now," James nodded absently.

They didn't quite make it there when Hermione found them, and the look on her face made Harry question if she somehow knew what they'd done as well, and had gone to their head of house.

"I'll bleeding lose my mind if she did," Sirius sighed without any real heat, still far too concerned with the way Remus was slowly starting to look just as bad as him whenever he came up in the story and not liking it one little bit.

It would be a cruel twist if Harry had gotten out of that mess just to get put right back in it by McGonagall, but right now getting a detention in school would be a minor comedy compared to their other issues.

Ron demanded to know if she'd been doing just that, and she barely got the words out that she'd gotten word that Hagrid had lost his case, and Buckbeak was going to die.

Harry made a terrible noise of protest, finally stopping looking at both of his uncles like he was making sure they were still breathing from their combined stress, and abruptly shoved back into other matters.

"Alright you lot," Lily sighed miserably, "we really do need to get to bed."

"But Mum-" Harry began protesting at once, looking at the book as if it were Buckbeak himself, and if he just kept reading he'd know for sure everything was going to be okay.

"No," Lily said with finality. Trying, and failing, to keep her eyes from flickering over to Remus she began getting to her feet, walking over to Sirius and taking the book away from him. One glance at his friend and the protest died on his lips. With a heavy sigh they all got to their feet and headed for the stairs, except Remus who simply slumped over and crashed right there on the couch.

Sirius came down a few moments later to drape a blanket over him and make sure all the lights were off before the house went silent.

HPHPHPHP

*So we know why the second wouldn't work, as we all know that Remus isn't helping him though they still don't, but I'm actually kind of stumped on how Sirius was still getting out of the castle once he got in. The way I suggested has some holes in that if they used the Homenum Revelio spell, wouldn't it still show a dog? I thought the spell would just show if anyone else at all was in the room, plus it would be a real chore for Padfoot to actually make it from the seventh to the first floor to get out of a window or something without being spotted by anyone! Not the paintings, or the ghosts or, anyone! Suggestions would be lovely and appreciated.

#Harry Potter #Marauders #fanfiction #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Lily Potter #PoA #reading the books

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itsbenedict · 3 years

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Two-Faced Jewel: Session 8

Welcome to the Hotel On-The-Floor, Yeah

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, the party identified the culprit behind the murders in Barley and Wheat, but... well, it's complicated. The culprit was apparently being coerced by a dragon, and they managed to talk him down rather than fight. If they want that to stick, though, they'll need some kind of plan to get rid of that dragon. And... is it really worth bailing this guy out, anyway?

Saelhen, Oyobi, and Vayen all start discussing their plans in Elvish, which it doesn't seem like Arnie understands. Oyobi advocates for just killing the guy, but is a little less keen on the idea once Vayen advocates for the same. Saelhen would rather give the guy a chance, and points out that there's not much point to killing him as long as the dragon is still around- they'll need an answer for that, and the answer to a dragon is probably just as good an answer to Arnie.

Looseleaf, oblivious to their Elvish chatter, describes the basic plan to Arnie.

Arnie: "So you're, what... you're gonna get the church involved somehow? What're you gonna tell 'em?" Looseleaf: "Well, probably also Deathseekers," Looseleaf thinks, out loud. "We'll tell them there's a dragon conducting sacrificial rituals at the site of an altar to the god of pain. We'll get the church involved by virtue of proving to them that there's a dragon fucking around with divine shit, and we'll get the deathseekers involved by convincing them that there's a dragon stacked to the gills with cool magic items, which we'll prove by bringing them one of said items." "The important thing is to get going as soon as possible, right? There's a time-limit here measured in, uh... human... corpses..." Arnie: "Wait, how are you gonna get one of its magic items?" Looseleaf: "How do you think, mister 'I work for the dragon so he gave me a bunch of magic items to serve his dread will'?" "We'll bring the deathseekers that magic cloak you said you had." Arnie: "Uh, that's..." "Mine, though."

Eventually, after a persuasion roll or two, Arnie agrees to loan them the cloak, as long as it comes back in one piece. He also tells them how to safely retrieve it from the laundry room- as long as they exchange some dirty laundry for the clean cloak, they'll be happy and won't attack. He's got plenty lying around downstairs, which he heads down to grab.

While he's downstairs, the party confers, and decides to all go together to the nearest city- Cauterdale- to ask the local Deathseekers for aid. They figure Arnie's not a flight risk, since he doesn't have anywhere to run and a draconic boss who'll hunt him down if he tries.

(As they prepare to leave, a natural 20 on a perception roll alerts Looseleaf that Vayen has ransacked Lumiere's personal library, stealing- specifically- Lumiere's books on gods and divine magic, for some reason. She doesn't make any objection to this, though- Vayen's a creep, but it's not like they weren't all on board with looting the dead guy's tower.)

With Arnie's bloodstained laundry in hand, Looseleaf heads upstairs and retrieves the cloak without incident. She tries it out, and...

The result of her crit failing her Wisdom saving throw on the magic item is... nothing, apparently. That's always good to hear! The cloak appears to work exactly as intended! She's wearing a very fancy outfit.

Further experimentation reveals a few limitations- first, the cloak's shape is illusory, so it can't become armor or anything with particular utility. Second, it can get overly literal if you ask it to copy an outfit outright- you have to use your imagination properly. Third, it seems to get tired the more you ask it to change, so there's some limit on how often you can update your wardrobe. Those appear to be the only drawbacks!

So, with Arnie temporarily kept from murdering people, the party gets back on the road.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: For caution's sake, Saelhen calligraphs a piece of paper to say WE HAVE NOT BEEN TORTURED TO DEATH, and sticks it on the door on the way out.

As they make their way northeast, they make some Animal Handling checks to keep hold of their giraffes, as something seems to spook them. Looseleaf gets a critical success and is able to calm her giraffe right away... but the party ranger, who is proficient in neither Animal Handling nor Nature nor even Survival, because what kind of monster hunter needs to know that boring crap, has no idea how to handle an overexcited giraffe and is thrown from her mount with a critical failure.

Benedict I. (GM):There's a small sign by the road, heading off west towards what appears to be an actual forest. The prairie is giving way to a somewhat hillier and more forested terrain here, but the forest is thicker than anything you've seen on your way there. And as you're approaching the crossroads marked by that sign, your giraffes all try to bolt for it. Looseleaf is able to realize that they've been forced to graze on grass for miles, and when they see the trees, they get overexcited. Vayen and Oyobi get completely thrown from their mounts, and you have to follow them down the road a bit to catch up with them and rein them in. Looseleaf: Haha, oh, well, hopefully they don't try and spend the rest of the whole day grazing a pit-stop is within tolerances but we really do have to make it to Cauterdale sooner rather than later. Many lives are on the line! Saelhen du Fishercrown: Good thing Looseleaf can radiate peace at them! Benedict I. (GM): Looseleaf is able to beckon them back before they completely get out of reach, and pretty soon you've got them calmed down- but you've lost some time. There's a choice to make here, now: continue on to Cauterdale, but make the last hour or so of the journey in the dark- or rest at the location marked on the map near here.

On the map, where the sign marked "Umbrella Village" points (shut up, I don't even play Resident Evil, don't worry about it), is simply a warning that reads "EVIL WITCHES- AVOID!!!"

Oyobi and Orluthe inform the others that "witches" usually means "druids"- and Zero cashes in something from character creation. Looseleaf's background as an academic provided her with a book on some historical topic, which was never allocated because at character creation he didn't know enough about the world to decide on something interesting. Here he declares it's a book on the history of druids!

Benedict I. (GM): Druids, from what you've read, are sort of like clerics. They channel a divinity of some sort- which is typically revered as Mother Nature, or Gaia, or... every druid you meet is going to have a different name for it, because while it needs to have a thing to call it by, it is emphatically not a god. Druids have a complicated relationship with Ccorde, who's ostensibly the goddess of environmentalism and hippy communing with nature type stuff- but most druidic traditions regard this as a false claim on a divine domain. Nature is untamed and wild and exists on its own terms, a vital force that is not to be tamed with rules- people must forge their own relationships with Nature. The author of the tome you acquired was herself a cleric of Ccorde, and the tone of the book is defensive on that subject. The author's curiosity outweighed that defensiveness, though, and there's a long section dedicated to the theoretical differences between the channeling of Nature and the channeling of Ccorde- in particular, there's no common dispositional element with druids. Whatever Nature is, it's willing to act through anyone who puts in the effort. The author didn't seem to know anything about animism, but you suspect druidic practice might be related in some way- that their nature-spirit-channeling abilities may be a form of animism. The book is unfortunately light on the practical details of druidcraft, as the author prefers that the reader eschew the practice in favor of fealty to Ccorde.

Okay! So, they head down the road to stay at the druid village for the night- and notice something odd on the way, after some Nature checks. They notice that the dirt road they're going down seems to divide the forest in two- between a sparse, ivy-choked pine forest to the northeast, and a dense, healthy-looking deciduous forest to the southwest. You usually don't get such a sharp delineation between forests like that.

And Looseleaf notices... that their map doesn't show a forest on the southwest side of the road. The road is supposed to just go along the edge of the pine forest. Also, Looseleaf can see the trees' spirits there, and there's something... not quite right.

Benedict I. (GM):The left side of the woods- there does seem to be some ambient magic. Your Sight Unseen ability doesn't exactly detect magic, so much as it lets you see spirits, including the spirits of spells- but what's going on here isn't a spell effect. It's just that the spirits of these healthy-looking deciduous trees don't quite match their physical forms. Their spirits seem... sickly? Frail? Like they're not full trees, not trees that grew in their places from fallen seeds. There's something false about them.

Looseleaf: When you said 'the left side of the road is full of healthy-looking deciduous trees and the right side is full of misshaped thorny things' you know what the first thing i thought was it was, 'the left side is the dangerous side.' i didn't say it out loud but i was totally thinking that, and i am glad to have been vindicated.

The weird forest doesn't seem to be attacking them, though, so they head onward towards Umbrella Village, which seems to be built entirely on the pine side of the road. It's kind of cool-looking- every inch of available space, on the lawns, roofs, and walls, is covered in fruiting vines and various plants. The whole village is a carefully-cultivated ecosystem.

The villagers seem surprised to have visitors- apparently it's not a common occurrence. They seem normal enough, though- while they don't have an inn, they direct the party to visit the village elder, who might know where the best place for them to spend the night is.

(Oyobi once again crit-fails her Animal Handling check, and is unable to prevent her giraffe from ripping a tomato plant off the side of someone's house, which gets her scolded. Why are you a ranger, Oyobi?)

They head down to the village elder's house, which is unique in not being overgrown with crops- and knock on the door.

The door is answered by a little lizardfolk girl, who doesn't have any idea what she's supposed to do about there being... people... here? People she's never seen before? Who don't live in the village? What???

Benedict I. (GM): "...Who...?" "GRANDMAAAAA," she calls back into the room. Which she didn't really need to do so loudly, because there's an elderly lizardfolk woman sitting right there next to a small fire.

Looseleaf: Oh, and Looseleaf was about to ask if the little girl was the elder. Never let external appearances color your preconceptions, and all that. Benedict I. (GM): "Eh?" "Gramma there's Mysterious People!" "They don't exist!" The old woman gets up. "Who's... oh, visitors?" The little girl looks confused. "Vizza-what?" Looseleaf:"Indeed, we are emissaries from the Faraway Phantom Lands of Nonexistence," Looseleaf says in deadpan to the girl. "Behold as my incorporeal voice from out of the thin air astonishes you!" To the old lady, Looseleaf says. "Excuse us. You must be the elder?"

They inquire about a place to stay for the night, and the elder... checks the weather. Looseleaf, who has Druidcraft as a racial ability, also checks the weather, using a fancy little snowglobe spell!

Looseleaf: "I'unno, does this help?" Benedict I. (GM): "Oh, goodness. I thought you were from outside- do they..." "That's very well-done, really, and you smell delicious, but..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: uh Benedict I. (GM): "Well, it ought to be fine." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...hmm," says Saelhen. Benedict I. (GM): "Just put your bedrolls out anywhere- we're not doing rain tonight." "Well, anywhere in town, anyway." "You shouldn't set foot in the Mysterious Woods." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ma'am, rest assured that we have less than no interest in Mysterious Woods."

So the party beds down in some soft pine needles, making use of Looseleaf's recently-acquired Extremely Comfy Pillow and a few bedrolls. They have a druid elder's assurance that the elements won't be a problem, so... nothing wrong with camping!

And as they're going to bed, Looseleaf rolls a 21 on Perception.

Luckily, Looseleaf fails her unarmed strike roll, which would do no damage even if it hit because her strength mod is -1. So she does not do any damage to...

Benedict I. (GM): So, you kick out at the mouth full of sharp teeth. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Fwff, goes Looseleaf's puffy moth footsie. Benedict I. (GM): The mouth full of sharp teeth goes "Eeek!" and recoils before you make impact, and you see the little lizardfolk girl scamper away into the darkness. Looseleaf: "What." "Wh- how dare you bite me! I am an emissary of the Phantom Lands and all that or whatever." "Come back here and explain yourself to My Imperial Nonexistingness!"

The little girl, affronted, explains that if she's not real, then it's not bad if she bites her!

Vayen: Vayen stirs. "...Shouldn't kill a child," he mumbles. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...this is a new dream," remarks Saelhen. "Better than the dreams about dad." "Vayen's even deciding not to kill someone. This is super neat, subconscious, keep going."

Saelhen argues that maybe Gramma doesn't know what things taste good, because sometimes grammas think things that taste bad taste good, like bell peppers! The child has no defense against this devastating logic bomb, and scampers off into the darkness, indignant.

Next time: the journey to Cauterdale, and the menace of the bobbledragon.

#twofaced jewel #tfj log

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voidcat · 3 years

Text

Intrusion

– 2: smiles & chatter (wc: 2.6k)

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a/n: i just copy pasted from ao3 so all italic and bold texts are most likely gone, sorry

The impromptu concert and the walk you had afterwards do not conclude your interaction with Iwaizumi, much to your dismay. You were hoping the next day the lot of you would go back to your respective old routines of not knowing each other but alas, it seems he wasn’t just being polite when he said he wanted to be friends.

Here starts a brand new day: You enter the classroom and walk straight to your desk, not sparing anyone a look. Taking out whatever you need from your bag and placing them on your desk in your preferred order, you're startled by a harsh “good morning” you were never greeted with. Hell, have I ever been greeted by any of the classmates upon arrival like that? Already knowing the answer to that, you don’t bother turning towards the source of the voice to confirm it's him. Letting out a faint breath, you place your needed notebooks at last, make a move to the door, say a couple of greetings to few fellow classmates as you leave and seek out your friends for your morning routine.

By the time you come back, barely a minute before your teacher arrives, you take your seat, pleased to see he doesn’t attempt to start another one-sided conversation.

But it seems universe wants to prove you wrong, because every following morning he’s there before you arrive, sparing a good morning to your direction or asking how you are. You try to turn a blind eye, act sleepless or ignore him at first. Because, really, when did you ask for new friends, since when did you ask him for his friendship. As rude and stupid as this sounds, you're stubborn when pushed. Yet nothing lasts forever and you slowly fall into a rhythm before you can even notice.

On the rare occasion, you nod to show him you’ve heard him, baby steps. Day by day, this turns into a "Morning." back from you. Some days, you see his lips curl to your reply, giving your face a faint smile as well.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling of being watched during class. He examines you, you can tell that much. Perks of sitting one row behind yours, you suppose. You're not even bothered by this, you'd do the same if given the chance.

There’s one seat between you and the window and that happens to be the one he sits behind, has a nice view of the classroom and the outside. You find the seats by the window distracting as you find him.

Every morning goes the same, you drop your bag and take out your school materials, leave the class to meet with your friends, always making sure the morning gathering does not take place at your classroom, hurry back to class, hear Iwaizumi greet you and you greet him in return. Classes come and go, some little breaks too. Lunch break starts and here’s you grabbing your lunch as fast as you can, to meet with your friends in one of your usual spots, not allowing the boy to say anything else.

Alas everything has an end, what begins with you greeting him in the mornings splashes into lunch breaks. "Enjoy your lunch." It's almost a whisper but it's there. He just raises his hand in a thanking manner, a smile decorating his face as the sun beams on his face.

Iwaizumi Hajime intruded into your solitary moment of music and has not left since. In fact, his intrusion is not limited with your music, that you do not realize until it's too late.

Just like you don’t realize yourself getting used to his presence.

He enters your thoughts more often than you gave him credit for. You catch yourself mindlessly doodling him in class a few times, trying your best not to rip the page off your notebook. However upon seeing the way you drew his hair, you fall back into a pit of thoughts focusing on him again. It is a boring class; that should be the only explanation of you thinking about his hair of all things, instead of listening to your teacher. Is it natural, or does he style it in the mornings with some awfully smelling hair gel? You never spot a stinging scent though so it must be the former. Some days, the sun hits just right and makes it seem softer, making you want to ruffle his hair a little.

What Iwaizumi Hajime first notices about you is your calm demeanor. You don’t speak much in class, always avoid raising your hand, you don’t even speak to your classmates until you settle down your belongings. You hold short conversations with them, it’s obvious all your friends are from other classes. Unless there’s a class happening, it’s difficult to find you in the classroom.

He often hears you making little snarky comments during class as quiet as you can, usually to mock something said by a student or a teacher or just to criticize the topic.

At first glance you’ll seem the type to take notes during class but observation shows they’re silly doodles most of the time. Some days you’ll move your head, shake your legs or tap your fingers slightly to a melody playing in your head. The movements are vague but perks of sitting close to one another makes him notice you.

And for some reason, you like to cross the dress code. Half the time you show up with eyeliner on, somehow making it look to natural on you, he has no idea how though; you wear the pants that are normally a part of the boy’s uniform and magically make them seem trendy, compared to the boring look he has.

What else doesn't seem to escape his atteniton is how you’ve grown so eager to leave the classroom ever since he interrupted you that day. You always rush out as fast as you can as if there's a fire on your desk. You avoid conversing if it's not in the morning.

Steadily but surely, your hard stance begins to melt off. There's an increase within your replies, you no longer avoid eye contact nor are twitchy to leave his presence when you're talking.

He wanders to the music room few times after his practice, in the hopes of finding you. Yet he ends up empty handed.

His best friend whines about him making him wait by the gates, even though Iwaizumi had told him not to wait for him.

As days pass and Iwaizumi’s efforts never die out, you start to get back into the classroom a few minutes earlier, (im)patiently waiting for him to say something. Just so you can say something back, anything. Your pride doesn’t allow you to be the one to initiate the conversation and he must've realized that too because he begins to say random stuff to no one in particular, hums to some of your silent commentaries during class (to say you were embarrassed when you realized he had been hearing them all along, would be a huge understatement.)

A month since the piano incident has passed.

As soon as the last class of the day ends, he stands by your desk.

“Do you ever go out?” You would laugh at the serious look on his face, if it wasn’t for the question. He looks more like someone forced to make small talk with their nemesis than a high school student asking the other a very usual question.

“What do you mean? I did walk with you after school once, didn’t I?” You say raising your eyebrows, a little smile decorating your face.

He scoffs at you taking his question in a literal sense.

“I meant as in going out in your spare time with people, you know, like hanging out.” His face softens a bit as he talks, maybe it’s the lighting feinting you.

You slowly realize where this conversation is going yet you’re not sure if you want to avoid it or not.

“Well I am a human being craving human contact once in a while, of course I go out with people, hang out with friends and spend time with them.” You reply, attempting to sound… what? Playful? Cynical? Honestly, you have no idea at this point.

“Then, would you like to meet up this weekend if you’re available?”

“Why.” It’s not a question leaving your lips, but a harsh statement.

He detects the slight change of tone your voice.

“I don’t know, to spend time? I think I’ve made that clear already. Look,-“ You hear a little huff coming out of his mouth.

“-We can go to a place of your choosing at a time you can decide. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. But if you do, I have morning practices on weekends, so I have the rest of the day free. And honestly? You don’t strike me as the type to wake up before 11am on the weekends.” A playful tint flickers in his eyes.

You cross your brows and pout a little at his last sentence. You meet his gaze, and there it is. The light entering the classroom just had to hit him so nicely and compliment his face as if he's a statue in the Piazza della Signoria. He looks somewhat amused with a smile, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so relaxed before. It’s refreshing.

Upon realizing what just crossed your mind, your pout starts to morph into a scowl. At last you let out a frustrated breath. “Okay fine, sure. I’ve got to ask to make sure we don’t have any last minute family plans but yes, I’d like to meet up this weekend.”

You don’t notice the way you copy his smile and breezy air as you answer. It’s just the two of you in the classroom, smiling at one another in a complete silence.

“So, where to today? Any plans of spending time in the music room or...?” His words trail off.

“Nothing else to do here, I’ll just leave now.”

“Would you like me to walk you to the gates?”

Another thing you notice about Iwaizumi Hajime is that he never gives up. And frankly, you don’t want him to.

“Yes, I’d like that.” You give him a small smile. “Who knows what dangers I may encounter on my way out without a mighty knight to accompany me?” You elbow him by the arm as you speak. You two grab your bags and leave the sunlit classroom behind. The light seems to die out as you two walk away.

Wind blows past your friend’s hair and hits you in the face, causing you to jolt awake, breaking out of your trance. Your friend gives you a side glance as the others keep talking, their words fell deaf to your ears.

“Hey. Where was that café you, Ayame and Koto went to recently?”

Okemia, the friend you just interrupted, gives you a look. “It’s right around the corner of Koto’s favorite coffee shop. Why would you ask?”

You just shrug. “I was planning on going there this weekend and I haven’t forgotten the way you guys talked about the desserts they had.” Her eyes beam at the mention of the desserts. She claps her hands in excitement. “You should DEFINITELY ask them the cake of the day! They bake fresh cakes every day and serve slices. Even the cream and fillings were all handmade!”

“Their macaroons are nice to have with coffee too.” Koto adds as Okemia opens her phone gallery to show you photos of the said baked goods. She stops mid air.

"Wait, I thought you preferred calmer, hidden places to go by yourself." A gasp follows. "Are you going with someone that is not us?" She has her empty hand over your head now, making a dramatic pose, looking like a kid at a silly school play rehersal. All you can do is roll your eyes. "I'll meet with someone from my class, I am not leaving you guys, don't worry."

"Oh the betrayal! How quickly you've replaced us right after that traitor." Everyone in the circle starts to laugh at this point.

"You are mistaken. Is' betrayal goes far back before the class rearrangement." Etsuko joins in on the conversation. Eyes closed, heads nodding, with your faces as if you're all humming in sync.

"On my defense; my shitty twin was a traitor long ago and you guys were sent into classes in pairs. I've got no one." Your voice tones down as you say the last sentence. Feeling something warm around your shoulders you look up to see Koto wrapping an arm around you and resting her head. You lean to her direction in response, feeling better now. You have never missed your former deskmate this much up until now.

"Anyway! Cakes!" Okemia speaks loudly and so you all fall back into a calming chatter of giggles and which baked goods are better.

First thing you do upon entering the classroom is to approach Iwaizumi. “Okay so I have a café in mind that we can go to. It’s in the main square so we can just meet there.” Your words met with a nod.

“What time should we meet?” Curling your lips at that, you divert your gaze to the trees outside. The leaves barely move, standing oh so still on the light blue canvas.

“Maybe we can exchange numbers. I can text you when I leave practice and even if you haven’t woken up by then, you’ll definitely wake up at that.” He has this little smile on his face again, painted by the sun, shining so brightly.

“Yeah, that should provide enough time for me. I-“ Pausing abruptly you reach out your hand to him, met with another one of his confused expressions, you just roll your eyes again.

“Give me your phone, I’ll add my contact info. No need to get suspicious.” Cracking a smile at your last word, you save your name under your full name and hand the device back to him. “You can just text me that day, I will know it’s you.” Hearing the door close, the both of you see your teacher and before he can say anything, you go back to your desk.

Another day comes to an end, he asks again to escort you to the gates, at which you playfully refuse this time. Walking to the choir rehersal you think about the last few weeks you've had.

Iwaizumi Hajime intruded into your life one day on a coincidence, saw you at a vulnerable moment of solitude and hasn’t left still.

He has started to linger around more and more, enter your thoughts more and more and you cannot find it in yourself to get mad at this. The feeling is unusual, new and equally scary, yet the excitement it gives makes you ache for more.

You want to thank him, really. You haven’t given much thought to it at first but ever since that day, it seems your hands have been warm. Your playing has improved in your eyes, you can feel yourself becoming a vessel for the pieces you play. Feeling the melody flow through your body, hearing all the hidden stories in them, watching all the ballroom dances made to them.

It’s hard to turn a blind eye to the idea starting to slowly form in your hand. It cannot be a coincidence. it’s as if, ever since Iwaizumi entered your life, the coldness of your hands has left your body, leaving you with a caressing warmth in its absence.

You make a mental note to thank him for that one day as you walk.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!! x reader #iwa x reader #iwa x you #haikyuu fanfiction #slowburn #intrusion #im lazy to tag so ye

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buffyversefanfiction · 3 years

Text

Buffy versus The Originals

Warnings: I do not own nor claim to own the copyrights to the following tv shows; “Buffy the vampire slayer”, “Angel”, “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries”. Nor do I claim to own any canonical continuation via comics, spin-off televisions and such. I do not claim to own any of the characters within either the Buffyverse or the TVDverse, I am purely doing this for non-profit as a fan of both worlds and fanfiction itself.

15 Plus: May contain medium to graphic displays of violence and torture, displays of witchcraft practice, horror elements, supernatural elements, sexual innuendos, and scenes of a sexual nature.

F/F, F/M, M/M, GEN + OTHER

Preliminary Round: Part One

Buffy Summers managed to stop yet another apocalypse not that there was ever any doubt that she would win, she always wins. Although, to be fair this time around her hometown of Sunnydale was destroyed during the big battle and what once was a beautiful Californian town looked like nothing more than a tribute to the Grand Canyon leaving Buffy and her friends homeless.

Luckily, the blonde-haired vampire slayer knew of a certain vampire with a soul called Angel who happened to live in a semi-decaying hotel located in Los Angeles, and after a quick and awkward phone call with the vampire she once loved Buffy, her friends, her loved ones, and her fellow slayers made their way to L.A. to seek refuge with Angel and his team at the Hyperion Hotel.

Angel well and truly had his hands full at the Hyperion Hotel after rejecting Wolfram and Hart’s offer, his city always kept him busy with its many supernatural creatures, but he also had the complicated mission of trying to wake the woman he loved from her supernaturally influenced coma.

So, when Buffy, his former love, called him up looking for a place to stay briefly he was more than willing to oblige, hoping Buffy and her team could help in waking Cordy up.

Cordelia Chase had gone from being a spoiled rich girl at Sunnydale High School, to the vision’s girl at Angel Investigations to a half human, half demon, hybrid that found herself getting possessed by a rogue member of the powers that be called Jasmine, the latter using a magical pregnancy to give birth to herself, sending Cordy into a coma shortly after giving birth.

Cordelia was the heart of Angel Investigations and it was struggling to operate without her, her friends and loved ones, were struggling to cope without her and so, Angel, Wesley, Fred, and Gunn were more than thrilled to have guests at the hotel who could lend a helping hand.

Faith Lehane had also gone through many changes herself, going from being a rogue slayer pitting herself up against Buffy, to finding redemption with the help and patience of Angel. So, after becoming Buffy’s ally once again, and helping her defeat the first in Sunnydale, the brunette Boston born slayer was more than happy to check into the Hyperion Hotel and catch up with her old friend Angel, especially after hearing the tall, dark, and handsome, vampire with a soul, needed help in waking Cordelia from a coma.

Buffy, Angel, and both their teams, sure proved to be the big help that Angel Investigations needed with the night-to-night hunting, and patrolling, however, the mission to awake Cordelia Chase struggled to pick up momentum which Cordelia herself began to grow impatient about as her fragmented spirit began appearing to them all frequently, complaining, and eager to get back into her comatose body.

Willow Rosenberg searched every grimoire, book, and magic shop to find a magical solution to Cordelia’s coma until eventually she came up with the idea to cast a spell which would not only summon Cordelia’s spirit but would force said spirit to return to her body. The spell in question required a non-beating heart, horns from a near extinct demonic species, and the translation of a long-forgotten language.

Willow waited for a reasonably quiet night to perform the spells she believed would bring Cordelia back to her body, waiting until it was just her, Buffy, Angel, and Faith in the hotel and gathered them all within the grand foyer of the hotel, as they each sat down on the floor in a circle, while Willow held a book in her hands, ready to cast her magic, ready to bring Cordelia Chase back.

The first spell to summon Cordelia’s spirit was performed, cast, and executed to perfection by the brilliant red headed wonder witch, however, the second spell to return Cordelia to her comatose body went a little awry as Willow accidentally opened a portal to a whole other dimension, a portal which wound up pulling Cordelia’s spirit into, as well as Buffy, Angel, and Faith before closing itself and leaving Willow completely alone, and without any idea of where they went, or how to get her friends back.

“Way to go Wills, now where the hell did, she send us this time?” Faith wondered as she, Buffy, Angel, and Cordelia found themselves, picking themselves up off the ground within the bayou in New Orleans late at night, each of them completely confused as to where Willow’s spell had sent them to. “I think it is safe to say we’re definitely not at the Hyperion Hotel, and knowing our luck we’re probably not even in Los Angeles.” Buffy replied to her, as she looked around the bayou, attempting to piece together where they were. “Hey! I’m back to being solid again!” Cordelia screeched with excitement as she threw her arms around Angel and pulled him in for a hug, the two of them equally as excited to see and feel each other once again. “Enough of the sickeningly sweet reunion time, we all know what happens when you get happy Angel.” Faith warned Angel, as she pulled him out of Cordelia’s arms, eagerly breaking off their hug. “You’ll lose your soul, then Cordy becomes food to soulless you, and me and B wind up tossing a coin to see which slayer takes you down this time around. “Well at least Willow’s spell to put you back in your body clearly worked.” Buffy stated to Cordelia, before the questioning slayer turned her attention to Angel. “You did not store her body in the woods, did you?” “No, I never!” Angel denied nervously, as he noticed a disapproving glare from Cordelia. “Not like you can blame him if he did, I mean maybe the big man’s still a little pissed about you bumping uglies with his son, I mean did you not used to change his diapers?” Faith teased Cordelia, more than happy to stir the pot between Cordelia and Angel. “Firstly, that was some wacky super powered bitch called Jasmine who not only hijacked my body but got me pregnant just to give birth to herself. Secondly, I would never sleep with his son when not possessed…stupid rogue powers that be hussy!” Cordelia snapped back at Faith, clearly disgusted. “I swear those powers that be can go straight to hell!” “As fun as this is, how about we change the topic and find a way back to the hotel?” Angel suggested to the women, more than eager to change the conversation about his son Connor’s past with the woman he loved. “Yeah, I don’t really want to hear about my ex’s love triangle with my high school classmate and his adult son.” Buffy agreed with the brooding vampire. “Straight to hell, you hear me?” Cordelia screamed upwards towards the clouds, hoping the powers that be were listening and heard her fury. As the foursome decided to explore their whereabouts it did not take them very long to find their way out of the bayou and learn that they were in the city of New Orleans, the only thing they did not know was the fact that they were no longer in their world, they were now in the Mikaelsons’ world…

Preliminary Round: Part Two

Josh Rosza had been through a lot since turning into a vampire, going from being a club kid turned vampire to best friend to the young harvest witch Davina Claire to the boyfriend of werewolf Aiden, but the hardest change in his life that he had to adjust to was losing his first love at the hands of a wicked witch called Dahlia, a loss that at first he blamed Klaus Mikaelson for.

Josh was never particularly popular with any of the original family of vampires and neither did he want to be, knowing all too well that friends of the Mikaelson siblings tended to quickly turn into foes before winding up permanently dead at their hands but all that had changed over the last few months following the notorious family defeating Dahlia.

Following Camille O Connell’s unexpected departure from New Orleans, Josh had managed to take over her job bartending at Rousseau’s which meant dealing with all kinds of clientele including none other than the hybrid Klaus Mikaelson himself, who had become a regular while drowning his sorrows every night since Cami had left.

Fear was quickly taken over by fascination as Josh’s reluctance to grow close to any original began to dwindle as friendship quickly grew between Josh and Klaus, a friendship which had started out with two lonely hearts before developing into something much deeper, a bond truly cherished by them both.

Klaus Mikaelson tended not to make friends easily mostly due to the fact he did not want to and even when the original hybrid did make the occasional friend it was never too long before he either watched them be murdered or they displeased him in some kind of way leading to him killing them.

However, following Cami’s decision to leave New Orleans behind for good, the fact Hayley Marshall had moved away with his daughter Hope and his brother Elijah was not currently talking to him, Klaus was in need of some kind of company and he found that and more with newbie vamp turned bartender Joshua Rosza.

Klaus found himself spending more and more time with Josh as a regular at Rosseau’s until the two unlikely companions quickly found themselves developing a friendship made from two lonely hearts graduating into something deeper and before long the original hybrid would come to think of the vampire bartender as his best friend, a friendship which Klaus valued greatly and would protect at any cost.

Rebekah Mikaelson had been granted her freedom from always having to be by her brother’s side, forced to endure heartbreak after heartbreak as Klaus put his needs and wants before her own time and time again, but now she was free and yet it did not feel like it to the original female vampire.

Rebekah had been travelling the world in search of a way to bring her brother Kol back, chasing leads from her older sister Freya, hoping to find some magical remedy to restore her family, but as the months went by and the leads grew thinner the original was starting to run out of steam and her warring brothers Klaus and Elijah was doing anything but making her feel free from her family entanglements.

So, Rebekah decided it was time to pay her family a little visit to reconcile Elijah and Klaus’ brotherhood having had to step in many times before, like when they thought over Tatia then squabbled over Katherine Pierce, as the blonde haired immortal beauty just found herself being thankful that this time her brothers weren’t fighting over another bloody doppelgänger.

Elijah Mikaelson had spent a thousand years sticking by his brother Klaus’ side, cleaning up his messes, and attempting to keep the rest of his family in line but after Klaus used their aunt Dahlia to cast a werewolf curse on Hayley, the woman he loved, he was done fighting by his brother’s side and although Hayley forgave Klaus after New Orleans’ regent witch Davina Claire broke the curse, Hayley decided to move away with Hope.

Hayley Marshall still popped into New Orleans as her and Klaus shared custody over their daughter Hope but she lived there no longer and although she did not live far from the city she lived far enough away to start a new life, a life that Elijah Mikaelson was no longer a part of much to his own heartbreak.

Elijah knew he could not blame Klaus entirely for Hayley’s decision to move but he also knew the curse sure did not help things, in fact if anything he believed it determined her decision and with her now gone and Rebekah too, Elijah was running out of reasons to remain forever by Klaus’ side.

Freya Mikaelson had taken to the oldest sibling role a little far too well and she had started to feel the weight that came keeping a family like hers from killing each other. Not only did the Mikaelson witch have to play mediator between a warring Elijah and Klaus but she was also using her expertise to try and help her youngest sibling Rebekah to find a way to resurrect Kol.

Family was not Freya’s only struggle however as she tried to stop Davina Claire and her vampire father figure Marcel Gerard from declaring war on her siblings every other day, while finding unlikely common ground with Vincent Griffiths in restoring their city for the better as well as keeping her promise to her brother Finn, one that meant finding him a suitable body that would require minimal violence if possible.

Freya literally had everything on her shoulders and was trying her hardest to wear it well, so the last thing that she wanted, needed, or even expected, was the arrival of two so-called vampire slayers, a demon, and a vampire with a so-called soul.

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hellguarded-a · 3 years

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Morning Anon!! It's been a while, but I see you're feeling a bit down and definitely you deserve praise and admiration!! I've been reading all your cute hc's about Ignis and he's very cute and very inspiring. Tell us about how you came up with such a good concept!? One day I'll stop being shy and intimidated, and approach you for writing! Until then, know that I really enjoy you and your content and art on my dash! Please keep up the good work, you're doing wonderful!

ahah oh well i think that’s a little exaggeration but uhhHH sure history of this character go--

THREE YEARS AGO. slowly creeping up on four, some fandom drama made me go fandomless, although i felt absolutely idea-less at the time and felt like i couldn’t really come up with a brand-new concept from the scratch, so i actually went through an extensive list of mythological monsters n was like... what do i want to write... because i was dead-set on writing a monster boy like the disappointment that i am

so i wanted something... not just a species, but some specific creature from mythology and settled on cerberus. so that’s what i originally wrote. same url and everything. was more fitting back then i think, but its still alright and i’m attached to it. especially when i later saw someone using the url hellgvarded so i was like hehe i did it first

so, cerberus, right. meaning i wanted to do something funky with some sort of split personality thing given the three heads n such. well i... couldn’t do it? but partially i blame the fact that i couldn’t really connect with his muse in general, nor the world i put him in. my plotting / shipping partner at the time didn’t really help that much. it was very dull, set in a more cyberpunk-ish setting as compared to a modern parallel to today’s world as his canon is now, he was even supposed to have some cybernetic implants and such, not that i ever decided on those. admittedly, that part then fuelled shinjou’s focus on that, but i digress. his human alias was still ignis, his lover at the time was called noctis ( hint hint as to how i drew inspo for his brother lmao but really the name is the only connection because i liked the duality ) and he was still some sort of secret agent / police force thing, although i never decided on how he’s gotten to earth in that incarnation. basically he really had no background or anything to him besides that.

so i abandoned that blog due to my inability to connect, and also partially because i managed to feel so completely overwhelmed on it within two days as it literally exploded. the promo got such immense traction for w/e reason that i had 200 followers within those two days, which sure it stroked my ego a lil but at the same time? well first off, it barely let me settle in and also made me feel awful because i felt like i owed ppl a lot... and i didn’t want to disappoint. so many ppl jumped in on that concept and???? i actually didn’t have any muse for it????? so rip.

so i dipped after that and made the kitsune twins. which stayed with me for another 2-3 years so i’d call that a success. i still off-handedly write them on discord and at least one of them is actually important to ig’s canon. or rather, i eventually revisitted ig to make him a plot device for shinjou. before that, however, he still existed in the back of my mind in a prototype of what the gonchiye is today. the gonchiye actually gave me a platform to revamp a lot of my old muses which i’m actually rly happy about, but. anyway, back then it was a german-based organization called die jagdhunde ( same deal lmao ) but instead of being entirely supernatural based it was a group of humans actually hunting the supernaturals due to supersitions and stuff like that. sometimes they’d capture some of them and force them to work for them, ig being one of those, kalisha being another. it’s what made me lowkey ship them, but in the end ig ended up having a strong male preference so him and lisha are just kinda like bff’s in their current canon. by then, i simply had ig as a regular hellhound rather than being cerberus himself as i wanted him to be mine rather than being a known mythology being, but he had no background nor development beyond the fact that he was always supposed to be a mature, gentlemanly, but somewhat uptight individual with fire and shadow magic and the ability to phasewalk. that’s all i had on him.

but again, i tend to hyperfixate so it didn’t become much more than a simple concept like many others, as i focused on the order of the lotus and the twins’ story. but you know. eventually i reached a stalemate and i had a lot of background for shinzou, but not his brother. so that’s how the gonchiye became to be, being based on an ancient supernatural pit-fighting organization of which jou was once part of. i involved lucius in all that, made him be the big bad, etc etc, and then had jou be bought off by the yakuza so that’s how he was raised. i then really wanted a plot for him of infiltration and betrayal, but instead of making a whole new muse for that, i just took one of my old concepts and used that instead. which was ig.

ig’s muse was also spurred by nata’s ( @hellhunted ) desire to ship him with her falcon splice, which then alone led to further development of the gonchiye and their scientific endeavors. anyway point being i made ig, as part of the gonchiye, infiltrate shinjou’s yakuza to get him assassinated, and the whole plague thing got added in a bit later, but it worked out alright. again, one of my older concepts that i had in the twins’ old canon but wanted to reuse because i didn’t want to drop the idea completely. so that’s how i got more involved in ig’s character, and then i finally lost the twins’ muses completely ( much to my dismay, i miss them ) so i focused on ig? it was surprisingly easy to connect to him afterwards and give him some background, frankly i don’t remember how i made him be a hellhound / fury crossbreed ( i do remember it being nata’s idea but i just don’t remember what prompted it ), but i did purposelly lowkey base him off of cerberus to stay true to his origins. maybe it’s a little on-the-nose to have him be the ‘son of cerberus’ but i’m honestly quite proud of my cerberus hc which makes it very flexible to work with. similiarly, to how cerberus had an older brother called orthrus, i had always wanted ig to have a brother, so he always had a vague concept for one, so nox was around for a hot minute but again. it took me a while to actually do anything concrete with him as a character. originally, they were both hellhounds. now ig is a crossbreed and nox is a pureblood fury.

n really then it was just a matter of writing on discord to get him to where he is now --- i wrote him in private for about a year before bringing him on tumblr, but that’s how he came to be. heavily inspired by the cerberus as we know him, and then adapted to my impending apocalypse canon.

#≥ file 009: INTERCEPTED MESSAGES #≥ file 666: REDACTED #( kdgkjk thanks for the ask it made me feel better at least )#( distracting really ty ty )#( consider this tho; you already survived my follower purge which means i rly enjoy u too so )#( u know )#( wink wonk )#long post /#( lmaooo sorry this got so long but )#( lots of history to this boy i guess )#( you can also see how my thought process goes )#( pff )

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

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Love me, love me not ~ pt.1

01: When Grayson meets Y/N

Summary: Y/N meets the twins, leaving a lasting impression on both of them.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

Word count: ~ 2k

Love me, love me not ~ Series Masterlist

Grayson looked himself up and down, one last check up to make sure he was perfect.. as perfect as he could be. After all, he was about to meet a girl, someone who had the power to both make his career and destroy him entirely. To make the matters worse, she looked like an angel who had her wings clipped by the world and she was to be his companion for the next few months, at least.

He couldn't leave a bad impression.

"Ready, bro?" Ethan leaned on the door-frame, pressing his lips together as he gave his brother a pointed look.

"Just opened the gate for her." Ethan added, sighing as his brother kept up the silent treatment. While Ethan understood his brother's predicament and that this situation is far from perfect, especially to a romantic sap like Grayson, he lacked the feeling of guilt for giving him this opportunity. He had opened a door for him, the door he clawed at for a year now and hadn't made a dent, so yes, Ethan didn't feel even the slightest bit of guilt for getting his brother what he wanted, despite it being a less than perfect way. And yes, in this moment, Ethan felt grateful he chose college before acting, unlike Grayson who wouldn't even consider trying the academic way to his dreams.

"And you better get a smile going because she's doing us a bigger favor than we could ever do for her. You're the one benefiting here." Ethan glued himself from his position, walking over to the door he knew would be knocked on any second now, leaving Grayson to deal with his feelings a moment longer.

Ethan wouldn't let him fuck up.

And right on cue, Ethan was there just in time to open the door for her, moments before her fist connected with the wooden door.

"Oh, wow. Hi!" Ethan had seen her photos, many interviews and her previous work, but she never looked as beautiful on the screen as she did right before him. He stumbled over his words, secretly wishing he had gotten himself a sweet PR deal with her instead because he would love nothing more than a taste of her dark, pink lips - her signature lipstick.

"Sorry, I'm excited!" He offered a hand to shake, noticing her cold smile finally reach her eyes as if he had managed to melt a few inches of the iceberg inside her soul, even for a moment.

She gladly accepted his hand, her smile widening as he shook it vigorously.

"It's no problem really. I'm Mercy." She felt herself cringe with the use of the nickname they've pushed on her, trying to claim her as theirs - the public's doll for entertainment. But she figured it would be best if she kept her distance, after all, this was just a business arrangement...nothing more.

"Oh, Gosh, you're so nice." Ethan giggled to himself, certain he's completely red in the face and too eager looking. He had to reel his inner fanboy in and stop overwhelming his guest.

Y/N cocked her head to the left, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she still held onto his hand, not minding the contact because the one thing you have to get used to in Hollywood is touching strangers, way too long and way past your preferred place. So, with that in mind, a hand-hold lasting a bit long because someone got a little excited didn't seem as bad. She's had worse.

"You're not Grayson." She stated plainly as if it's so obvious and unimaginably unmistakable to her.

It was Ethan's turn to realize he's still holding onto her slightly smaller, much colder hand in his for too long, but also to admire her observation skills. Not many people could tell them apart, much less when they've never met before.

"And you're right. And I'm holding your hand for too long, so I'm just gonna let go and go get my brother." Ethan smiles awkwardly, getting a nod on her behalf before letting her hand go - hers a little warmer than before and his a little colder. He walked backwards, sending her a weird wave, adding:

"Make yourself at home."

So, as Ethan left, nearly hitting a wall, Y/N looked around. First thing she noticed was the large wall painting right across from the door front, finding the blend of a cityscape and colors modern and appealing. That's until she gasped once her eyes found the expensive looking panther in the corner, scaring the life out of her.

In the meantime, Ethan had rushed into Grayson's room, finding him buttoning up a different shirt, a little sweatier than before and quite jittery.

"Bro, she's here! She's pretty and she's nice and her hands are cold!" Ethan listed, making Grayson stop, frowning deeply as he turned to look at his brother and the starstruck look in his eyes.

"Her hands are cold?" Grayson deadpanned, wondering what the hell is he talking about, and if his brother needed a good slap back to reality.

"Yes, Grayson, her hands are cold and you are always running warm, so go and charm her and hold her hands until they're warm." Grayson shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he nodded, refusing to keep questioning Ethan's sanity right now when his ticket to success was all alone in their living room. And apparently, her hands are cold.

"Take a chill pill, bro." Grayson whispered as he passed a crazed Ethan, feeling his legs turn to lead closer he got to where Y/N waited for him.

He tiptoed, stopping at the wooden barrier, silently watching her through the cracks. Never before had he seen the use in those wooden stacks between the hall and the living room, other than decorative, that is, but now he understood as it allowed him to take a quick peak and assess the situation without making himself too obvious and her too uncomfortable.

She stood with her back turned to him, her hand running along the shelves he built and always boasted about being earthquake proof. She wasn't overly dressed, not like most celebrities he had met. She looked almost...normal? Human? Something other than a pretty doll or a wicked witch the media painted her as.

"You know, I can tell you're there, right?" Her voice caused his heart to start an unhealthy pace, feeling it skip every few beats as if it's stumbling over itself.

"How did you know?" Grayson breathes out, stepping out and around the wooden mock wall, rubbing the back of his neck, hence showcasing his sweaty pits. She frowned slightly at the boy before her, taking in account that he not only scratched his neck and sweats like crazy, but avoids eye contact and talks like a frail old lady as well. He's nervous and jumpy and that's not what she needs right now. And while most people would tiptoe around the subject or ignore it entirely, Y/N wasn't the type.

"You're a mess and what I need right now is a man who can put on a convincing show and use his acting skills to make the public believe I'm an angel sent from above and that he's madly in love." She stated, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes unblinking as she waited for Grayson to look at her.

Which he did, right after he tensed up as if she was a cold shower he desperately needed - blunt and unforgiving as the cold.

"Can you be that man or do I need to go somewhere else?" She asked, not blind to the way he had swallowed thickly nor how he gave her an awkward nod.

"Words, Grayson. I need you to say it and I need you to mean it." She insisted, placing her right foot a few inches forward, finding a balance to give him the proper scrutinizing look.

Grayson cleared his throat, forcing himself to keep eye contact with this girl who had an incredible presence, an undeniable charm and very sharp claws. Some women talk a lot and still don't say enough, but Y/N needs only to look you in the eye and you know exactly what's on her mind.

"I can do that. I will do that." He emphasized, making sure there's no mistaking his intent. He isn't the type to back down from a challenge and most certainly not one that would benefit him so greatly. His father always taught him to keep his word and never give empty promises. And he gave her his word already.

She smiled with his underlying promise, clapping her hands together only to clasp them and bring them under her chin as if to support the smile on her lips, as if she's not used to a simple, lighthearted kind - only the heavy, ice dripping smiles that had a particular effect on people. Some were chilled by it, others mesmerized, but Grayson? He saw through it, through her. That wasn't a smile from the heart, but one from her head and people who are ruled by their mind were always much more dangerous and calculating that people like him - people who trusted their heart.

"Great! So, I suppose you're familiar with the terms of our agreement?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, stepping closer to him with a raised eyebrow, but Grayson seemed oblivious for that step closer had lead her right into the one spot in the entire room the sun reached, giving her an ethereal glow and he finally understood his brother's erratic behavior - she looked like magic, like art - a true beauty, despite the lack of her usual glam she had in all her photos. She wasn't what he expected - a little colder, brittle like glass and perfection incorporated, just like one of those artifacts with 'Do Not Touch' signs placed in front of them. But glass is only brittle until it breaks, changing itself into something much more dangerous - something sharp and ready to draw blood.

"I'm fucked." Grayson mumbled under his breath, incoherent for her to understand, but clear enough for his heart to feel the pain breaking through time and space - all the way from the future. He knew he'd have a hard time saying goodbye when the contract was up, certain it would be as easy as breathing for her.

"Excuse me?" She interrupted his inner turmoil, stepping out of the sunlight and taking his warm hand into hers.

"Your hands are cold." Grayson stared at their hands, clasped together as if it's the only way it should be. He stared at the way her lips parted with that notion next, only to allow himself the gift of looking into her pretty eyes.

"They always are." She shrugged, trying to pull her hands out of his, awkwardly looking away only to look back with a sharp intake of breath once she found resistance to her attempt to create some distance.

"Think we should practice." Grayson mussed, smirking as her cheeks turned a shade darker, knowing he had made this doll blush.

"For the public? Plus, I promise to keep your hands warm." Grayson winked, carefully studying her face for any signs of discomfort, finding none but a blank canvas with dark pink cheeks matching her lips.

"Sure. I suppose it will do us good considering we need to go on our first date now." She offered him a shy smile, one so out of character in comparison to the woman-in-charge facade she put up at first and Grayson just knew...if he could only melt her heart, nothing - not heaven, nor hell Hollywood is comprised of, would keep them apart.

Tags: @xalayx @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @peacedolantwins @maybgrayson @nowheredolan @graydolan12 @beautorigin @justordinaryjen @starrydolan @pitreshawn

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fic

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rachelbethhines · 3 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - The Return of the King

So we’re back to the quasi-filler stuff. This episode does set a few things up for the finale, like bringing Edmund to Corona, but none of those things are actually good and it’s still mostly filled with irrelevant shit alongside the more important stuff.

Summary: King Edmund arrives in Corona to see his long-lost son, Eugene, and to give him the royal sash of their bloodline. Eugene wants nothing to do with him, but Rapunzel invites him to stay. Later, the sash is stolen and a ransom note is left behind. Edmund and Eugene decide to go and retrieve it. Meanwhile, the Stabbington Brothers plot revenge on Eugene as they are both viewed as a joke by the other criminals.

So How Did the Stabbingtons Escape the Prison Barge

Last we saw them they were stuck on a prison barge along with Lady Caine and all of the other season one villains. How did they escape? Did Lady Caine or anybody else make it out? If so then where are they this season?

We’re not going to get any of those questions answered are we?

Man this is just sloppy continuity. Which ironic, because these two were only brought back this season because of continuity. They need to be “redeemed” so that they can be at the wedding. I guess it just sucks to be you if you’re an original villain for this show and not named Cassandra.

Why Is This Deserving of Ridicule?

Like...We’re talking about a world renowned thief and adventurer and his magical royal girlfriend who are well known enough outside of Corona to be mentioned and there for no doubt people know how they both defeated monsters, daemons, and several criminals besides just there two guys, right?

This plot point makes no sense.

You could just kick these dumbasses butts and be done with it. I doubt they’d bother picking on you again if you did.

Did we really need even more motivation for them to want revenged against Eugene?

Rapunzel is Back to Being Her Bossy Self

Rapunzel has not earned the role of “wise administrator” yet. She’s only been out of the tower for two years now and she has yet to prove to the audience that she has managed to learn anything since then. By jumping the gun and forcing her into a role that she hasn’t grown into, and by ignoring that this whole show started out as a coming of age story, it just makes Rapunzel unpleasant to be around. All her “advice” is just her ordering people about with a veneer of chipperness to try and mask her controlling nature. People who should know more about their own lives than she does and have no reason to listen to her.

So We’re Showing Rapunzel Being Responsible... By Having Her Avoid Responsibility?

Part of why the writers made her “acting queen” for the first half the season was to get her to grow into the role of becoming full time queen. However they screwed this up by not having her actually learn anything and having her avoid the real duties a queen preforms.

What Rapunzel is doing her is just being a socialite busybody. The only administrative thing she does is approve some low-scale building plans for a small business. A thing that would have been handled by a lower official in an actual functioning government.

Once again Rapunzel is being selfish and doing what she like, ie bossy people around while having them kiss her ass, as the real work of running the kingdom is left to someone else. This isn’t being responsible, it’s being hypocritical, but don't expect anyone to ever call Rapunzel out for this.

Pointless Action Scene is Pointless

At this point, the low stakes action sequences are just cringe. Like is this an adventure show or not people? Stop forcing crap like this and give us some real conflicts instead.

How Did You Get Here So Fast Edmund?

It took Rapunzel and company nearly a year to get to the Dark Kingdom. Even if Edmund wasn't delayed with pit stops like they were, it would have still taken him several months to get here by horse.

Did he take a boat, or have four to six months already past since Rapunzel’s Return?

I would argue that this episode was aired out of order and should have been later in the season, but Cassandra’s appearance at the end of this story, and Hamnuel’s appearances in later episodes, would suggest otherwise.

Crap like this is why season’s three timeline doesn’t work unless you stretch everything out to two years instead of one.

Read the Room Rapunzel

One could argue that Rapunzel is just trying to be polite, but that doesn't really hold water.

For starters Eugene is clearly upset and has every right to want to set boundaries between himself and Edmund. Ignoring that is incredibly rude and if my significant other ever did such a thing, well they wouldn’t be my significant other for very long.

Secondly, Rapunzel could have offered other accommodations if she felt pressured to be polite to Edmund. Not only are their lots of inns in a port town known for trade, many of which are probably well-to-do, but there’s also that convent that was mentioned back in season one. It has to be somewhere in Corona itself and as the so far only mentioned major religious organization in the country it would no doubt have stately quarters for when royalty and nobility would visit.

So not only would it be a suitable place for a visiting king to stay in, as it would be made for such things, but it’s also far enough away that Eugene wouldn’t feel like his space is being invaded but close enough that Edmund could come and go as he pleases.

By that point it’s still between Edmund and Eugene and Rapunzel can stay out of it, like she should.

Eugene is Right

These are all valid reasons for cutting someone out of your life. Furthermore, you don’t even need a reason. If you don’t want to associate with somebody then just don't associate with. It’s your life. You don’t have to justify how you choose to live it and people who actually care about you should respect that.

Unfortunately no one respects Eugene.

Not Edmund, not Rapunzel, and most certainly not the writers.

Then Why Don't You Get Closer to Edmund, Rapunzel?

I understand Rapunzel’s viewpoint here. Edmund is the only person she’s ever met who has experienced the same isolation that she has. He’s one of the very few people whom she can empathize with.

However that doesn’t give her the right to force her views upon her boyfriend. If she cared so much than she could just befriend Edmund herself and leave Eugene out of it.

Trying to encourage a child to have relationship with a parent who neglected them is super tone deaf at best and outright disrespectful at worst. It’s also highly hypocritical seeing as Rapunzel cut Gothel out of her life for similar reasons and Eugene only ever supported her for it.

No really, flip the situation. If Eugene tried to encourage Rapunzel to give Gothel a second chance everyone would be slamming him for it. So why does Rapunzel get a free pass?

Shorty Already Did That, Eugene. Don’t You Remember?

I mean, you were literally right there when it happened. Are we forgetting season two the same as season one now?

So Why Are Stan and Pete Suddenly Back, But Not Cap?

I mean we went through all that trouble in Rapunzel’s Return to write them out of the narrative and here they are without any explanation. Why are simple set ups so dang hard for this show?

Rapunzel is Overstepping Her Bounds Here

Ok, giving Edmund a place to stay is one thing. Suggesting to Eugene that he should give Edmund a chance is not appropriate but still forgivable. But this?

This crosses a fucking line!

Eugene is not Rapunzel’s subject. He’s her boyfriend, and a prince in his own right. Rapunzel can’t just volunteer him for crap without his consent. That’s just indirectly ordering him about like she would a servant.

Once again, flip the script. If Eugene tried to force Rapunzel to work with Gothel everyone would be up in arms. Why is this then deemed okay?

This is Coercion

Not only is Edmund and Rapunzel trying to guilt trip Eugene here but she even fucking elbows him!

Like this isn’t “cute couple bickering” here. That kind of stuff is reserved only for inconsequential shit.

This a woman trying to strong arm and guilt trip her husband to be into having a relationship with his abusive father! Because guess what? Neglect is still abuse!

Rapunzel has zero say in Eugene and Edmund’s relationship. It’s none of her fucking business! Trying to force her into this plot just makes her look like an asshat.

I mean look at this smug smile! The fucking bitch is proud of being a shit human being and a terrible girlfriend.

And of course don't expect the show to call out this behavior as wrong because of out of date sexist double standards. If you think any of this is okay then just role reverse Eugene and Rapunzel here and then tell me its still alright.

The Show Missed a Real Trick By Not Naming Him Horus Instead

Horus, the sun god, would have been a nice bit of irony and given meaning to the name while keeping the joke virtually unchanged. You could have had both lore and a punchline.

And I would argue that the joke as is, isn’t even funny. Horace is indeed a lame name, but not for the reason that the show gives. It’s lame because it’s not unique enough. There’s already a Disney character named Horace and I’m sure there are real people out there with that name as well since it’s not completely unheard of. So the joke falls flat and winds up insulting anyone with that name.

Don’t Expect Any Pay Off for Eugene’s Identity Issues This Season

Yeah the show makes a big deal out of Eugene having a mid-life crisis through out season three, but then never resolves it in any meaningful way.

Edmund Is an Asshole

I don’t care how “crazy” he is. Calling someone by a name they don't wished to be called is just plain rude. Acknowledging someone’s preferred name is just a basic common courtesy that is expected of everyone. Once again, this isn’t funny, quirky, nor charming, just unpleasant.

So the Animators Wasted a Model on a No-Named Character Who Only Appears Once

Someone said this little girl appears in season one, but it’s not noticeable if she does. She also doesn’t have a name and this is her only speaking role. What a waste of money. Just have one of the braided girls from the movie instead. You already built models for them and haven’t really used them.

And before some mentions race here, this is poor rep already cause the character has no impact.

Turns Out, Varian Didn’t Even Need Those Truth Serum Cookies

Not only does this dumb down Pete to a ridiculous degree, but it also invalidates everything Varian went through in The Alchemist Returns and the grief he got from everyone for using the truth serum.

Oh, and it’s also lazy writing and a plot contrivance.

That’s Not Figgy Pudding!

This is Figgy Pudding.

It’s a boiled “pudding” that’s more like a cake with dried fruit in it. During the 14th through 18th centuries such bread puddings were made to be carried around in ones pocket or knapsack for eating on the go. They’re nothing like the creamy custards we call puddings today.

It also looks nothing like what’s shown on the screen below.

That’s like a half eaten loaf of wheat bread?

That’s jelly filled .. apparently...?

Once Again, If You Have to Make Everyone Else Incompetent to Make Your Hero Useful to the Plot Then You Need a New Plot

Rapunzel has zero business in this plot. She doesn’t even need to be in this episode beyond a cameo. Trying to cram her into the protagonist role in a conflict that doesn’t involve her is just a disservice to everyone.

Winnie The Pooh Is More Mature Than This Show

More of that meta commentary I was talking about last episode, and it just as full of shit as ever.

Seriously Find Her, Keep Her is the best script I have ever seen in any show. It’s perfectly balanced so that anyone of any age can relate to it. It’s real and heartbreaking and perfectly suitable for small children to understand. There’s no shock value, no darkness, no modern satire, but its far more mature and complex and deep than anything TTS has tried.

Also Rabbit is a far better father than any dad in this show, while still being cut from the same trope. There’s no shame in being a children’s show when its done well and this now 30 year old kids show runs rings around what ever mess Tangled is trying to sell.

Eugene Isn’t Exaggerating Here and I Don't Know How to Feel About That

Turns out Eugene did grow up with these guys the same as he did with Lance. It’ll be confirmed only two episodes later. That just recontextualizes everything. He didn’t just betray some rando guys that he held no feelings for, he betrayed people that he’s known and worked with since childhood.

Now just because he’s known them doesn’t mean that they were family to him like Lance, but like the fact that he keeps claiming then as such through out the episode would suggest that perhaps they were like siblings.

That’s ... ingenious. That makes Flynn Rider retroactively an even worse person and gives the Stabbingtons real reason for vengeance.

Only the show doesn't do anything with this! It just makes Eugene an even bigger jerk in the movie for zero reason.

Let Me Reiterate, Edmund Is an Asshole

Just like with Frederic, Cassandra, and Rapunzel the show uses framing to try and make the audience side with people who do unforgivable things.

Edmund is an abuser. He neglected his own son for 25 years. But the show presents him as “funny” and “quriky” and “look at his pouty face, he’s so lonely”....

No!

Edmund isn’t deserving of anything and how he treats Eugene here is garbage.

This show is utter crap writing wise but boy does it know how to gaslight its own audience into siding with bullies and abusers.

Eugene Is One Thousand Percent In the Right Here, But Don’t Expect the Narrative to Acknowledge That

There’s nothing you can do to make up for that.

Eugene might forgive him. Eugene might move on from it. Eugene might decide a relationship it still worth having with Edmund. But the horrible thing still happened and it happened because Edmund allowed it to happen. There’s no going back from that and everything going forward has to be on Eugene’s terms alone.

But the narrative won't allow Eugene that agency.

Even as he makes his grand proclamation about being done with Edmund the cameras chooses to focus on Edmund and his feelings. The story is already priming the audience to prioritize Edmund over Eugene so that when the forced and contrived forgiveness scene comes we won't question it. But it only comes because Chris doesn’t deem Eugene as individual person with thoughts and feels of his own, but as an avatar to fulfill his wishfulment fantasy regarding his own personal daddy issues.

Rapunzel’s Characterization in Season Three is Just....Off

Ok, even ignoring the major stuff, like not recognizing what she’s done wrong, putting her into roles she’s not meant to carry, and making her a shitty girlfriend suddenly, Rapunzel just behaves contrary to her character all through out season three even in small subtle ways like here.

On the surface this seems like a clever call back to Great Expotations, but lets examine more closely, shall we.

On one end we have yo-yos; an invention that’s been around since ancient Greece and is so wide spread across the globe that the word “yo-yo” itself is theorized to come from Indonesia and the Philippines.

On the other end there is Rapunzel. A woman who spent 18 years isolated inside of a tower, because of this she is both ignorant of somethings and insatiability curious and eager to learn. Or at least she was, until striking out onto a year long road trip, and having now been out of the tower for only two years, claims to know better than the entire fucking world about this object who’s existence she didn’t even know about until only a year and half ago!

Like what kind of sense does this make? Why would you abandon the core of her drive and motivation, to learn, explore, and grow, and then call it “development”?

How Did Edmund Get Beat By These Guys?

Edmund took out Adria. The Brotherhood is suppose to be the best physical fighters in this world and Edmund is supposed to be best out of all of them. Yet he’s taken out by two random, mediocre dudes who didn't even jump him. They gave him time to respond and he stood up to fight them.

Was all his physical prowess tied into that axe? Is the axe magic?

If you characters have to be depowered for unexplained reasons for the plot to work than you haven’t a good plot.

This Isn’t as Heartwarming as You Think It Is Show

If Edmund knew where Eugene was this whole time then he could have actually provided for his son. He could have arranged adoption with someone by letter, sent money, food, clothes, ect, maybe even wrote to Eugene directly and kept up a long distance relationship to be there for him emotionally.

There is literally no excuse anymore for Edmund to hide behind. He literally neglected his duties as a parent, just cause.

Finding these things shouldn’t make Eugene happy. Finding these things should piss him off even further because that’s how any logical adult would respond to this bullcrap.

I sure know I’m angry. I’m angry that Eugene is a pawn for the creators’ writing wank-off rather then being treated as human being; as an actual character.

“Nice” Isn’t the Same Thing as Kind, Rapunzel

One could argue that she’s not even superficially nice in season three, but the real problem here is that the show, and by extension Rapunzel herself, doesn’t understand the difference between being “pleasant” and actually being a good person. Outwardly polite people can stab you in the back, can kill you even, and not care, as Rapunzel has demonstrated repeatedly since season one.

Do They Have to Be “Family” for Eugene to Give a Damn?

Can’t Eugene just do the right thing, because it’s the right thing to do? People don't need to be friends and family to care about each others lives. Kindness isn’t transactional. Empathy and true charity doesn’t come with strings attached. If Eugene’s whole arc is about becoming a better person, then making the Stabbingtons “family” kind of undermines this.

Don’t Reward the Dude for Doing the Bare Fucking Minimal

No seriously. Edmund forfeited the right to ever be called “dad” by Eugene a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t get to be called that now just because he stopped being a piece of scum and showed the bare minimal of human decency. Even if Eugene decides to have a relationship with Edmund after this, it doesn’t mean that he has to be recognized as his dad or that that relationship will be a parental one.

Eugene, and by Extension the Show, Places Rapunzel Upon a Pedestal to the Detriment of All

Only 4 villains out of 20 get redeemed in this show. Four, and yes I’m counting the Stabbintions as one entity here. That’s 16 times Rapunzel failed to give someone a second chance just cause she didn’t feel like it that day, and even here she did fuck all in trying to give the Stabbingtons any sort of chance. That was all on Eugene.

The more this show goes on, the more it looks like Eugene is just in love with the idea of Rapunzel rather than who she actually is as a person. It’s a disservice to both their characters but it damages Rapunzel most of all because the show perpetuates this over idealization to everyone she interacts with.

It’s really sickening to watch and terrifying to know that some uphold this selfish brat as a “role model” for little girls. There’s nothing empowering in being an inhuman “goddess” who can do no wrong....even as they do several wrongs and never gets called out on it.

This Isn’t “Cute”

Eugene can’t even have an opinion on a fucking toy!

Look if you still like New Dream despite how horribly written it is this season, then good for you. That is completely understandable, especially since this is mainly a problem with season three and not really in the first two seasons and certainly not in the movie.

But if you try to deny that they aren’t toxic in season three, that people who do have problems with how they’re written aren’t valid in their concerns, than you’re either someone who hasn’t been paying attention or someone who has gross double standards for women in relationships.

This Scene Is A Waste of Time

This doesn’t tell the audience anything. It contradicts what was previously established concerning her powers without explanation and then just throws the creepy girl voice in there for a lazy hook. It doesn’t work at foreshadowing since we repeat this info all over again in the next episode and it doesn’t expand upon neither Zhan Tiri’s nor Cassandra’s characters.

In fact it kind of contradicts Cassandra’s characterization in the last episode as well. Is she a remorseless bad bitch or a vulnerable woobie? She can’t be both. Not in the way show is going about it anyways.

It’s poor time management and poor storytelling.

Conclusion

It was mildly better than Rapunzel’s Return, but that’s not saying much. Everyone’s character is still circling the drain and there’s no escape line in sight.

But before I close out, here is a real world update. I had to quit my job at Amazon for personal reasons and am currently job hunting. I’m not hurting right now, I do have money saved up to cover me for at least a month and I’ve been doing commissions here and there, however despite having more time technically to write these reviews, I’m now having to juggle it along with artwork and job hunting.

If you would like to support my reviews and other personal projects you can send me a tip over at Ko-Fi and more public commissions will be opening soon over there as well.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#eugene #anti-rapunzel #anti-tangled #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure

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