#it's just been absurdly hard to find the right platform for me :

[nickywhoisi]

Hi again everyone. I have returned, maybe just momentarily, to let you know where I’ve been.

I took a lot of time off for myself to have a “redo” of my life. How this went was that, from Aug 20, I finally felt like I was free, moreso than I had in my life, and that was the best starting point for me to choose that year as 1993, my birth year. I have, through all of this time including now, realize that I have ultimately been battling a giant war against life for the sake of keeping pure and keeping corrosion out. And I mean NIGHTMARISH LEVELS OF CORROSION. It’s so hard for me to put those exact experiences into a perfect pure-feeling term, but basically it’s been like that for a shockingly long time...and one of the things that was so corroded was my own past and childhood. I desired to have a “reset” wherein I got to control life and my timespan for a while, and devote it entirely to the keepsakes I have from those times. I was beginning again, starting over with my life just how I wanted, and I let myself be a little baby for a while, then transition each day to adolescence, teenhood and then adulthood. It was all finally at my own pace. Though even then, the rare times I had to step outside meant that it had to be the current year again for a while, and I still ran across what I now know to be corrosion confrontations, which were sometimes so bad, I had to switch a year, and let it pass until the next day where I would redo it as well. I’m just glad that this plan worked out and it all fit into september before the last few days of the month.

There was also two giantly damaging events that occurred on the 26th...a certain governmental event I couldn’t afford to miss and was getting so stressed about (because I haven’t been feeling more than I can handle of that), and this resulted in me believing I needed to protect my most precious keepsakes, among which, my art and my videogame collection. This was from MY ENTIRE LIFESPAN, including my reset! And all I did was park somewhere where I thought it was going to be safe and untouched. But it so happened to be a kindergarten with apparently a private parking rule that I didn’t know about (and sadly, that part of the corrosive error is on me because I didn’t think to take some time to ask if it was okay, I was just too worried about being on time (additionally, I am aggravated that if I were not left in such a precarious situation, I would not have been so stressed out and thus careless about where I parked!)), and by the time I had a free moment to think about it, I checked on what was going on with my chosen parking space...and I got the shocking news that this asian prick decided, also at the fault of the police ordering him to, to THROW OUT MY THINGS WITHOUT ONCE WAITING FOR ME TO BE PRESENT TO EXPLAIN MYSELF. I had to run out of breath to that place, only to be confronted by the guy who did the deed AND look at the abject horror and misery that my two makings; my very history of being alive, my two greatest and purest of life’s passions...were thrown into a giant garbage bin without an iota of care. Not even an understanding that these items were covered in MY NAME, showing it defacto belonged to me, and nobody had the right to make the decisions they did. And what was all the worse was that I had every right to be livid at the guy and chew him out for what corrosive display he wrought on my HISTORY, MY PROOF OF BEING ALIVE ON THIS HELL ROCK, but he seriously thought he had any right to bombard me with angry accusatory words and ideas, as if he was openly victim blaming me for something I could barely pay attention to over the sound of my own crippling depression...how could I not continuously explode when I had to cry while rifling through the garbage and make sure that I rescued all of my poor keepsakes that I NEVER ONCE WANTED OR WAS PREPARED TO SEE AMONGST GARBAGE WHERE NONE OF IT BELONGS, all the while having my suicidal levels of stress upset and discomfort pressured even more by this unfeeling demon ch*** who never had a shred of shame for what he did saying the most useless, unhelpful and distressing things, likely on purpose, which naturally made me want to swipe at him with a cardboard box lid JUST TO GET HIM TO SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME IN PEACE. But that is when he said the worst thing; you stop or I call the police. I was screaming myself hoarse, wailing in such impossible misery, all because he refused to stop causing coarse corrosive stress towards me, and he was actually de-existing me. What de-existing me means, is that he was actively trying to delegitimize EVERYTHING that was happening to me right there. His profound offenses horrified me as these would never stop coming from him. I feel that this is the type of homonid,,,this inhuman thing, this “flesh homunculus”...is the very thing that I will have to kill one day in order for such corrosions in life to permanently stop, as I want. I got all of my posessions back, but it can’t feel like a true victory until I see this creature gone, and all like it. Please don’t worry about what this means. It just basically means I’ve figured out how to get rid of the things weighing down on my mind for good.

Sadly, just another one of these things bled it’s way into ruining another event that was supposed to remain pure. Some user who I don’t know at all made a heinous reply about me being “such a manchild” over a post subject that I had done nothing more than say my piece on, state that I would not accept anyone trying to @ me over having what just seemed to be different from the crowd opinion, and leave it at that. I learned that on some monday, around the time I left to give myself that long-needed break, I was entirely treated like trash, only fueling yet more of what I have lately been feeling...rather, I should say I’ve been collapsing under the weight of. I already feel bad enough that there are sociopaths like this on the world who troll and are so good at trolling that I do feel very defaced and wounded by. What hurts me even worse than that though, is the timing in which this happened. The one precise moment where all that has happened is processed, or as well as it can, that nothing else is going on, and I thought I had a free chance to muster up the courage and retry from where I left off. I gave this place just one more chance, or at least see how all of my friends are doing, only to see there is proof that people on tumblr, or perhaps tumblr itself, is no longer the place I thought I could have to be safe and I am surrounded by corroded sorts who don’t want me here, as a poor damaged person on the side of purity. I was about to say that I’m a pure person, but that would not be so true. I just want to be good and clear in my soul, and the corrosions of all life, from sirens and sickening-acting people in real life, the fact that real life has so much badness going on that it’s all become besmirched, to here online where corrosion and policing seem to have concaved everything to the point where nowhere is good and pure enough to promise the level of safety and comfort that I need most. Even Gaia online, another legacy site that I frequented from my life’s history as well, suddenly proved on the 25th that it apparently hated me for having a pure connection with it and for some reason hates me for not wanting to support it’s bad practises with money. Apparently they really are the scum who did not pay or support their artists the way they should, and it shows now in the latest “game” they have going on now.

So it’s a real damn shame, but I have to maybe...just never come back here. Ever again. Not seriously anyway. I wanted to do so much more here though. I wanted to be able to be like all of you, my friends, and you amazing artists in the choo choo groop, or the ttte/rws fandom for those unfamiliar. And be like VoiceBoss/Coco, and all of the other cool batman fandom artists too. Just happily posting my art, getting to know everyone, never having anything bad happen that would lead to a confrontation. But someone who bypassed the way I was trying so hard to curate my experiences here made me face the fact that I need a place where not just anyone is able to throw me out of a good thing, by any means. So I must look elsewhere, as I said, for a truly safe, quiet bubble to call my own and to get every ounce of relief and healing relaxation that has been so unreasonably denied of me. This sucks royal.

I believe the last things I might want to take care of is reblogging everything I have in my likes, catching up with my pals, letting y’all know about stuff, having one last farewell party to this blog, and...if I can manage it, I may only post my art/links to where I will be posting art from now on. Cause the last thing I want to do is promise good things I’d share, and then never make do. I’m not perpetuating that cycle of abuse after being a victim of it, no fucking way gang

https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/86557536

[ghostdrew22]

hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO

Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺

Butterflies and Paper Hearts || D.M, H.P

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really Warnings: ANGST, swearing, Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him.

WORDS : 3864

First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this. I read the request when it first came in and I loved it but I’ve been struggling to conceptualize it, and then I fell into a bit of a sad spiral because of all the other stuff that’s been going on in my life, which is why I took me so long to complete it. Second of all, I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. Third of all, thank you so much for this request! It’s a lovely concept and I really enjoyed writing it <3

~~~

Butterflies.

Flying. Soaring. Alive.

The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.

It was butterflies erupting.

~~~

The first time that you noticed Draco was in your fifth year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in Charms together, as usual, and you’d accidentally sat next to him instead of Padma.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what happened this morn-“ You stop speaking the second you notice that the person beside you is, in fact, not your best friend but rather a scowling Slytherin. “You’re not Padma.” You frown.

“No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What gave it away? The green robes or the blond hair?”

“The snarky attitude.” You instantly reply and he looks taken aback for a second, “Who are you anyway?”

If you’d thought he looked shocked before, you were wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Who are you? What was so confusing about that sentence?” You raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not a Ravenclaw.”

He scoffs at your remark but answers anyway, “I’m Draco? Draco Malfoy?” He asks, a pretentious tone lacing his voice. “We’ve shared this lesson together since you got here last year?”

“Stalker much?” You ask with a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you Draco, I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” He replies simply as he takes the hand that you’d outstretched. “Some of us pay attention.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what happened this morning?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“You were about to tell me about what happened this morning.”

“Oh.” You respond in embarrassment and watch as his smirk grows.

“What? Am I not worthy of your great story?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t think it’ll interest you.”

“Try me.”

“Right, what’s all this then?” Padma asks as she stops in front of the desk with a confused expression.

You giggle at her obvious confusion, “I accidentally sat here instead of by our normal spot. Do you know this miserable boy?”

“Better than I’d like to admit.” She responds sourly before turning a harsh gaze toward Draco, “Daddy’s boy.”

“Wench.” He responds and she rolls her eyes.

“Are you coming to sit with me?” Padma asks as she turns back to you and you shake your head.

“Maybe tomorrow, I’d like to sit here and annoy him today.”

“I cannot possibly stand in the way of that, you’re doing the whole grade a great service.” Padma replies with a laugh as she goes to sit a few desks away from you.

~~~

Day 1 - 1 Heart

Hearts.

Fragile things.

It’s the next Monday when you have Charms again, and you decide to sit by Draco’s desk in hopes of him coming to sit beside you.

“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asks as he peers over your shoulder before sitting in the chair beside you.

“Origami.” You respond with a smile and he raises an eyebrow toward you. “That thing where you fold pieces of paper into shapes?” You ask and he nods in understanding.

He takes his seat with a sigh, “Sounds boring.”

“Everything sounds boring to you.” You roll your eyes before finishing up the origami heart.

“True.”

You give it a once over and smile in satisfaction before turning to Draco and handing it out him. “Here.”

Hearts. Absurdly fragile things, Draco thinks as he feels his own heart begin to race. Here you are, nonchalantly handing him a piece of paper, and he feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself at the gesture. Y/N, giving me a heart.

He rolls his eyes and takes the object from you with a scowl, “Why are you giving this to me?”

You shrug, “You’re not completely intolerable, you’ve earned it.”

He smirks, “Careful, people might start to think that you like me.”

You smile, “Maybe I do.”

Your smile reminds him of butterflies- bright, fluttering, inviting, warm, beautiful.

He rolls his eyes and makes a big show of tossing the origami heart into a nearby bin, and you fight to hide the hurt hidden behind your eyes. But what you don’t know is that at the end of the Charms lesson, once everyone else has left, Draco goes into that very same bin and pulls out the heart.

Day 20 - 20 Hearts

“Are you still doing this?” He asks in annoyance as you hand him another origami heart, the same way you have, every morning, for the last twenty days.

“Yup. I’ve got no reason to stop.” You shrug with a small smile.

“How about the fact that I think they’re stupid and I don’t like them?”

“You’re under the misconception that I care about your feelings.”

He chuckles and brings his face down to yours till you’re inches apart. “I think you care a lot more about my feelings than you’d like to admit.”

You swallow and look away from him, trying to avoid the warm feeling that’s creeping up your neck and settling into your skin. “You wish blondie.”

“Mhmm.” He replies absent-mindedly as he turns into the classroom, drops the heart into the nearest bin, and sits in his seat.

You try to look unbothered as you go to sit beside him, ignoring the disappointment that’s churning your insides.

Day 35 - 35 Hearts

You watch as Draco inspects the origami heart from the Slytherin table, hoping that he might open it this time.

“He’s going to break your heart, Y/N.” Padma whispers from her seat beside you in the Great Hall.

You shake your head and let your eyes drift away from the blond at the Slytherin table. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s a lot better than you think he is.”

“Y/N, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have and I know that this isn’t going to end well.”

“And why not?” You ask defensively.

Because you’re a muggle-born, Padma wants to say, but she knows that it isn’t her place to crush your dreams so harshly. She shakes her head instead and smiles sympathetically, “Nevermind, I’m sorry for overstepping.”

You don’t notice, too busy talking to Padma, that Draco tucks the little piece of paper into his robe with a small smile.

Day 50 - 50 Hearts

You don’t exactly know when you caught feelings for Draco, it’s like all the small moments just bunched up together, but you know that it wasn’t your intention. The hearts, the sitting together in charms, it had all just started as friendly gestures in an attempt to get the scowling boy to befriend you, but somewhere along the line things just got too messy.

And now, you’re utterly infatuated with him.

You take a deep breath as you pull out the small box from your bag containing Draco’s Christmas present. The train comes to a half at platform 9 and 3/4, and you quickly grab your belongings before rushing out of the train in order to catch the blond before he goes home for the holidays.

You catch him by the door and you smile at him. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Another paper heart?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and you shake your head.

“No, it’s something else actually.” You hand the box to him, wrapped in a mix of dark green and navy blue paper, and he accepts it with a skeptical glance.

“What is it?”

“A Christmas present.” You laugh and he nods sheepishly in acknowledgement.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t get you anything…”

“I didn’t want anything.” You smile again, “That’s not why I got you a gift.”

You watch as he nods again and looks out the window. “Then why did you get me the gift?”

“Cause we’re friends.” You shrug and he swallows.

If he were any other person then the erupting butterflies in his stomach would be an obvious sign to pull you closer and hug you till both your arms hurt. If you weren’t a muggle-born witch, and his parents weren’t watching him intently from outside the train, then this would be the moment that he seized to let your friendship blossom into more.

“We’re not friends.” He spits out coldly, and you’re taken aback by the sudden harsh tone.

“Okay…” You reply quietly, “Acquaintances?”

“For fuck sake…” He mumbles with a sigh, “Y/N, I don’t like you, at all. You’re annoying, you’re pushy, and worst of all, you’re a mudblood.”

Harsh words, words that taste of venomous denial, are running out of his mouth before he can stop them. The look of astonishment and sadness on your face has regret dancing on his tastebuds like the taste of tar, and he struggles to push that feeling down.

“You don’t mean that…” 

“I meant every word, and I can repeat it if that empty skull of yours didn’t catch it.”

You shake your head and look down at the ground, trying to blink away tears, and he nods as he turns to finally leave the train.

“Draco.” You choke out and he whips his head back angrily.

“What?”

“I forgot to give you this today.” You whisper as you hand him his origami heart and push your way past him toward the platform.

You feel sick, you feel sad, you feel disappointed. There’s a twisting and churning that’s going on in your stomach but it’s not like normal, it’s the opposite of what you’ve felt every time before.

It’s butterflies dying.

He watches you walk away as a lump forms in his throat.

Day 65 - 0 Hearts

Draco walks into charms half-expecting you to be sitting somewhere else, and half-hoping that you’re sitting in your usual seat beside him. He didn’t open the Christmas present, too much guilt weighing him down, and he hopes that you don’t give him any more paper hearts.

He feels an odd combination of anguish and comfort when he sees that you haven’t moved, and goes to sit beside you in silence. You turn to him and smile but say nothing to him, not then and not for the rest of the lesson. When you get up to leave he half-expects you to drop an origami heart on his books, and disappointment consumes when you don’t.

Day 75 - 0 Hearts

“Morning.” He mumbles as he finds a spot beside you, as usual.

“Morning.” You respond.

That’s all the conversation that you two have now. A part of you misses the way the two of you had been before, easy-going, sarcastic, in-sync, but an even bigger part of you understands why that had to be over. He could never allow himself to love someone like you without resentful undertones of disgust and shame, and you could never settle for someone who doesn’t love you regardless of your blood purity.

“Y/N…” Someone whines from ahead and you look up from your desk to find Harry stood in front of you.

You laugh at his childish behaviour, “Yes Harry?”

“Please help me with this assignment?”

“No.” You respond bluntly, just to mess with him, and he pouts at you.

“Please?” You shake your head, “Please?” You shake your head again and he pouts at you hopelessly, “Pleaseeee?” He begs once more and drags out his plea.

You laugh once again and nod, “Okay fine.”

“Thank you so much!” He exclaims excitedly and leans over the desk to hug you. You shake your head and giggle in his arms, and Draco has to look away to ignore the looming feeling of jealousy consuming him.

Day 103 - 1 Heart

“So, I know that we’re not friends or anything…” You start as you turn to Draco, “But Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I can’t resist the urge to give you one more.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but feels realisation wash over him as you hand him an origami heart, one that’s bigger than all the rest you’ve given him in the past. He nods and takes it from you, trying to pretend as though his heart isn’t swelling at the gesture. “Thank you.” He responds curtly before the two of you revert back to silence.

It’s only when he’s alone in his dorm room that night that he actually looks at the origami heart. It’s red, and you’ve written his name across it in cursive. He runs his fingers along it and allows himself to unfurl it, feeling shocked to find words written inside it.

I know you never read these, so I’m probably wasting my time, but I wanted to say that I miss you.

Ridiculous right? I even feel stupid writing it. But it’s the truth, I do. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way you would scribble nonsense in my book to distract me from the lesson, and I miss the way you’d get so frustrated when I did the same. I miss the way you’d make fun of me for being a nerd, and try not to look proud when you outdid me in tests.

I miss your jokes too, even though they weren’t really funny, and the way you’d always forget your textbook so we were forced to share and we had an excuse to talk. I miss you a bunch, even though I know that you don’t miss me nearly as much.

Happy Valentine’s Day pretty boy,

I wish you could’ve loved me the way that I love you.

He quickly jumps off his bed and walks toward his trunk. He pulls out the Christmas gift that he never opened and another small box that he’d used to store all of your origami hearts, and begins to go through them all.

Note 1 - You’re weird but I like you. Very defensive, I hope that I can knock down those barriers. Note 2 - Your hair looked really nice today, made you look like a famous movie star who pays people to do it for him. Do you secretly have a hairdresser in your room? Note 3 - Your eyes are a strange colour, a cross between blue and grey, it reminds me of the sky before a really pretty rainstorm.

He opens every heart, from the first to the last, processing every last compliment that you’d ever written. With every word he reads, he feels a mixture of love and guilt wash over him simultaneously. Love for you- because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and way too good for him- and guilt- for treating you so horribly because he was scared, when all he had wanted to do was kiss you, and hold your hand.

9 - I’m oddly very proud of you for beating me in the latest Charms assignment, you might actually be the bigger nerd between us both. 20 - I know you hate that I call you pretty boy but that’s what you are, you’re unnecessarily pretty! 26 - You’re very funny when you’re not trying to be. Your jokes are horrendous, but your impersonations and quips can be quite amusing. 35 - I’m starting to think that you don’t read these. No, I’m sure that you’re not reading these. Doesn’t matter though, there’s so many things that I love about you and I think I’ll explode if I don’t put them down somewhere. 47 - I’ve fallen very hard for you, it might be your dumb laugh or the way you tickle me whenever you walk into class, but I didn’t know that you could feel this much for a person. Damn you pretty boy. 50 - Padma thinks you’re no good for me, I agree, but I don’t care. I love you too much to give you up.

The last of the collection is the Christmas gift that you gave him. He’d refrained from opening it out of shame, feeling unworthy of a gift from you after being so cold to you that day on the train. He unwraps it and finds another paper heart, with a silver engraved ring above it. The words, ‘pretty boy’  are inscribed into the ring and he smiles at the sight, a few tears sliding down his face.

Pretty boys like you deserve a little more than paper hearts, I hope you like it.

He slips the ring on before getting off his bed, walking to his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper.

Day 104 - 1 Heart.

It’s Valentine’s Day and his palms are sweaty, for the first time in his life Draco has sweaty palms because of a girl.

You’re in your usual seat and you’re folding another piece of paper. His heart soars at the sight of you so focused, that goofy smile you always have whenever something demands a lot of your attention, and your hands working delicately against the edges of the paper. He stops in front of you.

He clears his throat and you look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, Draco, morning.” You respond with a small smile, obviously still apprehensive about him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Y/N.” He smiles back and slides an origami heart onto the desk, beside the butterfly that you seem to have been folding.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion as you pick it up and inspect it.

“You’ve made enough to be able to tell by now.” He deadpans and you laugh softly with a nod.

“It’s a paper heart.” You smile up at him, “Did you make this for me?”

“Maybe.” He responds curtly as he slides into his chair beside you, but you catch the shy smile he’s harboring.

“Thank you.” He nods, “I could’ve done better though.”

He scoffs, “That’s not a fair comparison.”

“And why not?” You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

“Read the note inside and you’ll know why.”

“There’s a note inside?” You exclaim excitedly as you start to unfold the heart and he yanks it out of your hands.

“No! Read it later when I’m, like, far away from you.” He says defensively and you furrow your eyebrows but nod in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll read it after school.” You take it back from him and put it in your robe. You resume folding the butterfly and smile when you see that it’s done.

Draco watches intently as you finish it, expecting you to hand it to him once it’s finished, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion when you set it down and scan the classroom.

“Harry!” You exclaim as you watch him walk from the door and toward you with a bright smile.

“Y/N.” He responds once he’s standing in front of you. “Is this for me?” He asks once he sees the butterfly on your desk, and Draco is about to scoff at the question but you nod your head eagerly.

“Of course!” You pick it up and give it to Harry, watching excitedly as he opens it up and reads the note inside.

Draco watches in silent envy as Harry laughs, at whatever you’ve written in the note, and brings his lips down to your forehead. “Thank you so much butterfly, I love it.”

You smile proudly and your eyes light up as you watch Harry cast a charm to make the butterfly flap it’s wings and fly down to his desk. “When are you going to teach me that? I’ve been asking for weeks now!”

“If I taught you then I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.” He smirks as he leaves to his desk and you shake your head with a laugh.

“You two seem to be quite friendly now…” Draco mumbles, trying to hide the jealousy in his voice. The butterflies that had been erupting in his stomach earlier that morning being trampled to death by Harry.

“Yeah, we’ve been-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as you catch a glimpse of the ring that you bought Draco, “You’re wearing it!”

He smiles at your excitement, thinking about how such simple expressions from you leave butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Yes.” He chuckles and you smile.

“I thought you didn’t like it.” You respond softly and he feels his heart break.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t want other people getting jealous.”

He smiles at you and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach, like rosh bushes blooming at the sight of the sun, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.

Later that day when you’re sat beneath a tree and reading Draco’s letter, you know exactly what that feeling is.

~~~

Y/N.

Beautiful, funny, kind, observant, utterly perfect Y/N.

I’ve spent the last three hours trying to come up with a reason for you to forgive me, I couldn’t come up with one. I also tried to find an excuse, any really, that could justify my horrid actions over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t find one. So instead, I settled on just telling you the truth.

I’m a coward.

You’re probably laughing right now and thinking, “He’s only realising this now?”, and the answer is yes. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re the brighter one between us two. It took me 103 more days than you, to realise what you knew the first day you made me a paper heart; the two of us are meant to be.

That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Doesn’t matter anyway, because in note 12 you said that you enjoy my cheesy anecdotes. I’m not sure why though, I’m not particularly sure why you love anything about me when you’re you, but I guess some mysteries can never be solved.

I’m sorry for those words I said that day on the train, I didn’t mean them. I was scared of what my parents would think if I fell for a muggle-born witch, but I forgot one important thing; it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you. If I could spend the rest of my life getting these perfect little paper hearts from you, listening to your sweet laugh, bothering you when you’re trying to get work done and buying you rings that match the ones on my hands, then I’d be over the moon.

I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you this; I love you Y/N. I know that I haven’t earned a second chance but if by some miracle you decide to grant me one then I promise to make it worth your while.

I would pick the stars out of the sky for you Y/N, if only you asked me to.

Happy Valentine’s Day from your pretty boy.

You look up from the letter and wipe the tears that had managed to escape, before getting off the grass and running back into the castle. When you find Draco eating dinner in the Great Hall, and see him flash you a shy smile, you instantly know what that feeling from earlier was.

It was butterflies reviving.

~~~

get added to my taglist <33

taglist : @purpleskymalfoy, @astoria-malfcy, @dreaming-about-fanfictions, @dracoscene

~~~

I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again.

anyway, love you all,

jean <3

[comrade-meow]

Why do so many young women hate feminist trailblazers like me?

For anyone uninitiated into the various waves of 21st-century feminism, this will no doubt come as a shock. But in my opinion, what passes right now for modern feminism is doing women more harm than good.

Many young women today are not only pandering to men in their so-called feminism, but seem utterly unconcerned that the hard-won rights achieved by older women in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s are at risk of being catastrophically eroded.

They are helping everyone but themselves. In many ways they are betraying everything I and my brave colleagues fought for. This is the worst clash across the generations I have witnessed since coming to feminism in 1979, aged 17.

In universities around the UK and beyond, women are being fed a type of faux feminism, often by men reluctant to lose any of their privilege.

Julie Bindel, who came to feminism in 1979, says the rights achieved in the 19060s, 1970s and 1980s are at risk of being catastrophically eroded. Pictured: Julie (left) with Emma Humphreys in 1995 after a campaign to free her from jail for killing her violent partner

These women are being bullied and cajoled into accepting nonsensical concepts that are, at best, naive and, at worst, downright dangerous.

Prostitution, say these young women, is a job just like any other. They also argue that pornography is liberating. And finally, that trans-women should share female-only spaces such as hospital wards and domestic violence refuges.

This last makes me want to weep. It was women of my generation — often called second-wave feminists — who, 50 years ago, built rape crisis centres and refuges with no funding or salaries. To see them being dismantled by the very women who may one day need them is heartbreaking and infuriating.

I don’t think these women — almost all of whom would call themselves feminists — realise they are complicit in eroding our rights, for the simple reason they are no longer taught feminist history in universities. Instead, they are fed a sop of incomprehensible post-modern claptrap by ivory tower academics.

Feminists of my generation are not just ignored, but actively disparaged — or worse.

Since January 2004, when I offered an early opinion on the trans issue for a national newspaper, whenever it becomes public that I am about to speak at an event, always about an aspect of male violence and always as part of my campaigning work, a mob forms with the aim of bullying the organisers into un-inviting me. This is always played out in public and it is always humiliating. Sometimes the organisers capitulate.

I have been invited then uninvited from numerous events at universities following protests from trans activists and supporters of ‘sex work is work’ politics. I have also been invited to, then de-platformed from a number of events exploring free speech.

By contrast, genuine achievements of the past go unrecognised. From the very beginning of my involvement in the women’s liberation movement, we were out on the streets, waving placards, carrying banners and shouting through loudhailers, protesting the laws we wanted to change.

Julie said feminism has been rebranded and repackaged as ‘just be kind and nice to everyone’. Pictured: A 1970 women’s liberation protest

It was our campaigning that led to the introduction of the offence of coercive control; that barred the use of a woman’s previous sexual history in rape trials and ensured anonymity for the victims of sexual assault; and outlawed rape in marriage, which — young feminists are often astonished to discover — was perfectly legal in England and Wales until 1992.

Absurdly, there is no longer any expectation that being a feminist requires you to do anything feminist at all. Instead, and ironically given my experience, feminism has been rebranded and repackaged as ‘just be kind and nice to everyone’. Young women are told it is simply about the ‘choice’ to be who you ‘want to be’.

But if feminism is about choice, what does this mean for the women and girls who don’t have any? The girls forced into marriage, the women pimped out by violent boyfriends, the women on benefits living in temporary accommodation with young children they can’t afford to feed?

For feminism to mean anything, it has to be for all women and not just the privileged few.

Do young women even know about ‘the battles we’ve fought for them

You might ask, as many young women do, what is there still left to fight for? Although my generation of feminists and those that came before chalked up numerous victories, women are far from liberated. Levels of male violence towards women and girls are off the scale, as we have seen with the tragic events of recent weeks.

Conviction rates are so low that rape has been more or less decriminalised. Sexual harassment is endemic in our secondary schools and still a problem for many women in the workplace.

Many young women claim to be feminists, but seem to spend their time dismissing those of us who do the work — as opposed to simply talk the talk — as ‘irrelevant’, ‘bigoted’, and ‘past it’. Do these women even know about the battles we’ve fought and won to afford them some freedom?

Julie said in the current climate of misogyny, many young women are turning on feminists like her rather than pointing the finger at abusive men. Pictured: A rally to celebrate International Women's Day in 2020

In 2018, for example, Ash Sarkar, a media commentator, tweeted about the proposed changes to the Gender Recognition Act, claiming the introduction of ‘self-identification’ would not have any effect on the rights of others. I replied: ‘Unless you are a female in prison, one of the most disenfranchised groups on the planet of course.’ It was a reference to the case of Karen White, the transgender sex offender placed in a female prison who went on to sexually assault two female inmates.

When, in reply, Sarkar claimed ‘bigots’ like me didn’t ‘care about women in prison’, it was too much. Had she known her feminist history, she would have been aware that I am the founder of Justice for Women — a campaign I began in 1990 — and have helped countless abused women get out of prison.

When I came to feminism, there were no laws protecting lesbians from discrimination and abuse; violent men often won custody of children when women left a marriage; and domestic violence was treated by police as a ‘private matter’. All of this changed because of active feminists, as opposed to those who sit on social media virtue-signalling.

In fact, a woman reporting rape five years ago had a much better chance of seeing justice done than she does today. There were 1,917 fewer rapists convicted in the year to December 2020 than in 2016-17, a decline of 64 per cent.

In the current climate of misogyny, many young women are turning on feminists like me rather than pointing the finger at abusive men. Yet there are young feminists doing invaluable work to challenge male violence and bring about women’s liberation.

Julie said social media activism isn't the answer, as the #MeToo movement is no substitute for action. Pictured: A women's liberation protest in 1971

The campaigning group We Can’t Consent to This, which successfully abolished the ‘rough sex’ defence so often used by men who kill women, continues the work I was involved in as a young feminist when we, too, abolished the insidious defence of ‘provocation’, used by a number of men who’d killed their wives because of ‘nagging’ or alleged infidelity.

Of the 1,000-plus women attending the 50th anniversary of the Women’s Liberation Movement conference in London, in February 2020, a minority, but significant number, were in their 20s.

And when I launched my new book last month in London, well over 100 of the 250 books I signed were for women under the age of 30, with some in their teens.

Right now, we need feminism more than ever, but not the kind that puts men first. In the real world prostitution is not a liberating career ‘choice’, and increasingly violent pornography is not ‘sex-positive’.

Neither is social media activism the answer. The #MeToo movement is no substitute for action. Let’s point the finger at men who rape rather than expecting yet more women to lay bare their horrific experiences.

We live in a world in which rape, femicide and everyday abuse and harassment are ever present.

To change it, we need to be united and not divided by generational conflict. Somehow, and urgently, we must find a way to bridge the gap. Fighting among ourselves wastes time — and there is no time to lose.

Feminism for Women: The Real Route to Liberation, by Julie Bindel, (£16.99, Little Brown) is out now.

[wisteria-lodge]

lion primary + badger secondary (bird model)

ie A HOUSE MATCH !!

Hellooo, I’m sorry for bothering you but I’ve found this blog and I absolutely love your character analysis and overall thought about the SHC system, and I could use some help?

I’ve known the system for a while now, since the old SHC tumblr times, and while understanding my current primary situation has been quite easy, I’m having A LOT of trouble with my secondary and it’s becoming a bit of a issue for me because the more I think about it, the more confused I become, to the point where it’s upsetting me a bit.

First thing first, my Primary is a very “standard” Lion, the whole “you feel if something is right or not and if you do something that’s not right to you you feel bad/ill/it’s wrong” is extremely me. I had some doubts about a Badger model, but I think it’s just that my personal ideals and values align a lot with a Badger worldview, since I grew in a very Badger society and family (very leftist, a lot of emphasis on equality and valuing and creating communities). Reading various description/interpretations of primary Lion always feels right, while reading primary Badger always makes me think “yeah, this is all good and nice, BUT…” so this was quite easy to sort out (no pun intended).

Are you me? So far... I could have written this. It’s possible I *might* be biased going forward. 

When it comes to secondaries, I see a lot of myself in Bird descriptions: I make spreadsheets for everything.

 Pretty Bird.

I am a crafter with an apparently endless supply of books and tutorials and supplies ready, and the enthusiasm to share them. 

That sounds more Badger. 

I am the mom friend 

Badger.

who always has what’s needed in their bag. 

Bird.

I am that one person you can count on knowing a funny or interesting anecdote about almost any topic, from the mundane to the truly obscure. Learning new things, about any topic, is literally one of my biggest pleasures in life. 

Bird [model?] Whichever one isn’t your secondary is a model you clearly love.

I take pride in all these things, but I honestly have trouble understanding if I like using them as tools because they help me with my ADHD and so I received a very strong positive enforcement using them and I kept the ones I like, or if I started doing them because they are what I like doing and coincidentally they help me managing my symptoms or better navigate the world in my day to day life.

Could be either, but modeling Bird because you’re neurodivergent is very much a thing.

Also, while I love planning, when it comes to making decisions I tend to gather all information and summarize it in a way that makes sense to me so I can visualize the issue in my mind as complete and detailed as possible, but the final decision tends to feel a bit… impulsive, to me?, there’s always A LOT of gut feeling involved, and when I don’t follow it usually it ends up being a wrong or subpar decision. I do need to gather all the available information about the issue/situation/item/people, but rather than making my decision by comparison, I use the information to make sure that I’m “seeing” the truth (or as close to it as it is possible) and then once I feel safe that I’m not overlooking anything important I just KNOW what is the correct decision.

That’s a Lion primary making a call. 

Could this simply be a very strong primary interfering with the decision-making, even when it’s not about ideals but more mundane things?

Decision making is always a primary thing. Mundane stuff included. Mundane stuff is important. 

On the other hand, I am an extremely hard working person (I am changing jobs right now because I feel like my old bosses are making more and more difficult for me to just do my job properly and without needing to cut corners, and it just feels wrong to me). 

Oh good lord. I am ready to sort you as a Badger secondary solely on the basis of THAT. 

People tell me I’m a very good listener and that I am especially good at helping others unravel their thoughts when they’re all confused and tangled because I ask the right questions. I seem to gain other people’s trust easily and often I get told gossip or secrets before others. 

Badger. Also DAMN but that’s relatable. I think you might house-match me. 

I got told several times by previous bosses that I should look into becoming a team leader because people like me and I make them get along better. 

Sounds like a Lion/Badger combo. 

People get attached to me very quickly and when I have problems the stream of folks asking if they can help or just checking in is always way more than I expect.

Isn’t it weird how that happens? 

This all sounds like Badger stuff, from the descriptions I read, but many of them are not things I actively enjoy doing, I just.. do them because it would be weird to do otherwise? Or it feels like they happen to me with no effort on my part.

Because they’re just you. It’s just who you are. 

I think they might be simply a result of me growing up in a society that values hard work and being kind to others, or just me being a likeable person

Not everyone finds this easy. Not even close. I have read so many testimonials written by people in Badger secondary households killing themselves trying to fit into this model. Wanting isn’t enough. Having examples around you isn’t enough. 

or maybe coping mechanisms I had to learn in order to “pass” as neurotypical but as I wrote the more think and read about Birds and Badgers and their differences, the more I get confused and frustrated.

Now I know I’m projecting, but all my neurotypical coping mechanisms come out of the Bird secondary toolbox. 

But it would make sense since I burned out badly in my teens from trying to always try to be perfect for my family, my friends, my teachers, society 

That sounds like a young Badger secondary, more than a young Bird secondary.

and when I finally found who I really wanted to be I resolved to never let anyone define what or how I should be ever again (hello there, Lion primary!)

I hear that. 

After a lifetime of beating myself up for not living up to the absurdly high expectations I set up for myself, I have decided that the only way to stay sane for me is to do the groundwork, be as prepared as I can

Bird

 put in the work I should

Badger

 but once I’m in the thick of it just… ride the wave. And now I got to the point where I have the confidence that I am smart enough to learn the basics of a new skill on the fly, if needed.

To me, this is so fundamentally, so spiritually Badger secondary. You don’t have tools. You are a tool. You made yourself into one. And that moment where you can just trust yourself to catch the world, absorb it into yourself, and become whatever it needs you to be... it’s ecstasy. 

I’d say that lack of time is my worst enemy, but due/thanks to the ADHD that’s not true most of the time, since lack of time is what enables me to get past the executive dysfunction in the first place, so I’ll say I have a love-hate relationship with it. Doing things just before a deadline is it’s own kind of high, after all (I’m not saying it’s healthy).

At the base of your soul, you’re not really a Bird prepper/planner. 

A practical example: I usually don’t like platforming games much, but I am LOVING Immortals: Fenyx Rising because in most situations, there is a “best” way to do things but you can also get creative by using different skills, using specific items, finding loopholes, or a combination of all of them.

Sounds like a Bird secondary having fun. [a fun model?]

When I fail a level/combat I don’t get frustrated because I know that I just have to try a few more times until I find the solution that feels right FOR ME, even if it’s not the most efficient ones. And when I do it feels great, even if I look a at guide afterwards and there’s a waaay easier solution! I usually feel a bit silly for not “seeing it” but also think something like “well, I think MY way is more fun!”

Oh yeah, a Bird secondary would not have that reaction. That is the sacred Badger consistency of method. How you do something matters equally as much as the final product. 

When I cook, I usually find a recipe I like and try it as written, then I make small adjustments to improve it, see how it turns out, and so on until I have a recipe that is MY recipe, one I really like and that I know well enough to use as a basis to be changed if needed, knowing exactly how the change will affect the end result. I think this is why I prefer baking to other kinds of cooking, since it’s much more akin to chemistry I feel like I have more control over what a change will do. 

On it’s own this could be a description of rapid-fire Bird. And you clearly have Bird, you have a lot of it. You love it. 

So I guess that what really matters to me is being able to do things my way so that I can enjoy the process and live up to my standards instead of external ones? 

But then you say something like this... it’s about the process... it’s about the method... it’s about something coming up to your own personal standards. And that’s so Badger. 

This ended up being very lengthy… I’ve tried shortening it but English isn’t my first language and I was afraid I might come across not clearly. 

Your English is perfect, and insanely clear. You’re clearer than I am. 

Thank you again for the blog, I especially like your DS9 characters’ analysis and I am low-key hoping for more :)

I’m particularly proud of those ones. I’d love to do more, but before that I would have to go back and re-watch the show, or at least key character episodes. I’m not going to sort from memory. That would be doing a show I love, and a number of extremely complex characters a disservice. And it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. 

(it’s that whole Badger integrity-of-method thing, you know how it goes.) 

[vandijkwrites]

It's been a full year since I made this blog and I'm finally posting a story! (insert round of applause here)

An Android and His Boy | Flash Fiction | 717 Words

As soon as you see his wild hair over the heads on the train platform, you suddenly feel something knitting back together in your chest. It has been six months since you last felt remotely human and you missed the lie of it.

You missed it all—his absurdly large scarf wrapped around his neck too many times; the way his nose is already turning bright red from the chill; how his eyes have never stopped being the eyes of a child even when he left childhood far behind him.

You missed every piece of him.

And when he spots you across the platform and smiles, you swear that the hardware in your chest somehow manages to skip a beat. He weaves through the crowd and grabs your arm, still giving you that smile like a secret.

"I have news," he tells you. You hope you are still the first person he tells his news to. But it's too loud on the platform so he drags you toward the street, never minding that he doesn't know where you parked. You guide him the right way.

As you get in the car, you feel his excited energy radiating off of him while he waits for you to pull away from the curb.

You aren't looking at him when he says it, but you can hear the smile in his words. "I'm getting married," he says.

And suddenly it all breaks—the whole illusion shattering to pieces around you. You were never delusional enough to hope, but there was a certain peace in a door that had not quite closed. You try not to wince as it slams in your face.

You wonder, sometimes, if it would help if you could cry. Maybe the secret to surviving pain is letting it slowly seep out of you into something you can wipe away.

“Congratulations,” you say. It falls incredibly flat so you keep going. “That’s wonderful.”

You know it isn’t convincing and you hate yourself for it as you look over and see his smile fade.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

And all you can do is look ahead and stare at the road because you have never been able to lie to him and you can’t start now. The silence hangs, interrupted only by a rhythmic sound from the engine that demands repair.

“I’m sorry,” you say, because you are. You don’t want to ruin his happiness. You are trying to remember how to be a good friend for him.

He waits for you and, when you do speak again, it’s so softly that you hope he misses it.

“It’s hard to see someone have a happiness I can never have.” It sounds terribly selfish the minute you say it and his eyebrows knit together.

“That’s nonsense,” he tells you with a frown. “There’s no reason you can't find someone.”

You don’t say anything, just making a small non-committal sound in your throat that comes out wrong through your synthetic vocal cords.

You love him because he can't see the lie in what he's said. It also hurts in a way that things aren't meant to hurt you.

Because it is a lie. You aren’t human, which is a significant enough barrier in its own right.

But he thinks you are talking about marriage when all you really mean is him. You cannot find someone who is not lost.

“I mean it,” he tells you. When you don’t look convinced he leans into your shoulder, bumping your side with his elbow. “You can be happy. I want you to be happy.”

He thinks he really means it, but you know that he doesn't. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he doesn’t believe you’re capable of falling in love and you almost say it. You almost say all of it.

If you believed I was capable of falling in love, you would have noticed that I already have.

It is a thought that has endless potential for destruction—to his sapling of happiness and to the last threads tying the two of you together. The weapon sits in your mouth before you swallow it back down, unspoken.

“So, your fiancé,” you say instead. "Tell me about them.”

When he smiles, you smile back, pretending the word didn’t burn coming off of your lips.

[rotationalsymmetry]

I am not especially sure that I want to be on tumblr at all.

There are (probably not you, the person reading this, personally) a lot of assholes on here, and more to the point the website is not well designed to deal with assholery except by 1. individuals choosing to block specific people and 2. call-out posts, which are often themselves an expression of assholery.

It is easy for people to hate-follow, create sock puppet accounts, and send anonymous attacks without any form of accountability, from either the platform itself or users. There is a tendency for people to get pushed towards the most extreme versions of their pre-existing positions: people mildly prone to exclusionism get pushed hard towards more exclusionism, people interested in feminism find terf blogs fast…I don’t really mind that my getting crotchety over the ”voting for third party candidates is voting for Trump” nonsense a year ago pushed me into anarchist tumblr, that was just “oh right I used to be an anarchist what happened?” but I don’t like the overall pattern and I think if I hadn't come in with a fairly solid understanding of what being an anarchist means I would have ended up thinking, idk, that it meant hating politicians or something.

With Covid, people get pushed to extremes, with one extreme being “you can’t tell me what to do” and the other being “anyone who questions any form of pandemic-related security theater is basically a denialist and can’t have anything worth saying” and somehow the dialog ends up being entirely about individual behavior and not governmental or business decisions.

It is possible that part of this is just my own difficulty with social skills and building relationships, and granted I haven’t really been trying to make friends here, but the ratio of conflict/hostility to connection (as opposed to an illusion of connection where you think you know someone based on their posts but it’s all one way) seems absurdly high.

[isis-astarte-diana]

Vault Night

Summary:  “Despite‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor’s‌ ‌lecture‌ ‌on‌ ‌not‌ ‌having‌ ‌casual‌ ‌drinks‌ ‌with‌ ‌mass‌ ‌murderers, ‌nights‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault‌ ‌swiftly‌ ‌became‌ ‌routine.‌” Or, the one where drunken game nights in Missy’s vault take a turn for the gay. [Request] [One Shot] [SFW]

Warnings: Alcohol, tiny bit of moderate strong language, allusions to Missy’s violent past but nothing too upsetting.

Word Count: 2897

NB: Hope this is okay for you, anon!

When‌ ‌you‌ ‌turned‌ ‌up‌ ‌at‌ ‌Missy’s‌ ‌vault,‌ ‌quivering‌ ‌with‌ ‌rage‌ ‌and‌ ‌clutching‌ ‌a‌ ‌bottle‌ ‌of‌ ‌cheap‌ ‌gin‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌lifeline,‌ ‌you‌ ‌half‌ ‌expected‌ ‌her‌ ‌to‌ ‌turn‌ ‌you‌ ‌away.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌hair‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌mess,‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌red‌ ‌with‌ ‌angry‌ ‌tears,‌ ‌clothes‌ ‌scuffed‌ ‌and‌ ‌torn‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌latest‌ ‌disaster‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌had‌ ‌engineered‌ ‌with‌ ‌his‌ ‌infuriating‌ ‌obstinance.‌ ‌You‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌bear‌ ‌the‌ ‌sight‌ ‌of‌ ‌him‌ ‌right‌ ‌now.‌ ‌You‌ ‌just‌ ‌needed‌ ‌a‌ ‌‌drink‌.‌ ‌ ‌

Telling‌ ‌your‌ ‌human‌ ‌friends‌ ‌-‌ ‌the‌ ‌ones‌ ‌that‌ ‌you’d‌ ‌managed‌ ‌to‌ ‌keep‌ ‌while‌ ‌being‌ ‌unreachable‌ ‌for‌ ‌days‌ ‌at‌ ‌a‌ ‌stretch‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌Vortex,‌ ‌disappearing‌ ‌at‌ ‌a‌ ‌moment’s‌ ‌notice‌ ‌any‌ ‌time‌ ‌he‌ ‌popped‌ ‌his‌ ‌head‌ ‌around‌ ‌the‌ ‌door‌ ‌and‌ ‌proclaimed‌ ‌enigmatically‌ ‌to‌ ‌“need‌ ‌you,‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌thing”‌ ‌-‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌upset‌ ‌because‌ ‌your‌ ‌unspeakably‌ ‌ancient‌ ‌alien‌ ‌friend‌ ‌had‌ ‌almost‌ ‌gotten‌ ‌you‌ ‌eaten‌ ‌by‌ ‌space‌ ‌lizards‌ ‌and‌ ‌then‌ ‌refused‌ ‌to‌ ‌apologise‌ ‌for‌ ‌it‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌exactly‌ ‌an‌ ‌option.‌ ‌There‌ ‌was‌ ‌only‌ ‌one‌ ‌person‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌universe‌ ‌you‌ ‌knew‌ ‌you‌ ‌could‌ ‌complain‌ ‌about‌ ‌him‌ ‌to,‌ ‌and‌ ‌she‌ ‌happened‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌downstairs‌ ‌and‌ ‌guaranteed‌ ‌not‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌busy.‌ ‌Besides‌ ‌which,‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌certain‌ ‌it‌ ‌would‌ ‌piss‌ ‌him‌ ‌off‌ ‌if‌ ‌you‌ ‌went‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌her.‌ ‌ ‌

They‌ ‌were‌ ‌definitely‌ ‌the‌ ‌only‌ ‌reasons.‌ ‌ ‌

Your‌ ‌presence‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault‌ ‌had‌ ‌nothing‌ ‌to‌ ‌do‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌way‌ ‌her‌ ‌tousled‌ ‌hair‌ ‌caught‌ ‌the‌ ‌light‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌sunset‌ ‌filtering‌ ‌through‌ ‌the‌ ‌window,‌ ‌igniting‌ ‌in‌ ‌orange‌ ‌and‌ ‌purple‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌bonfire.‌ ‌That‌ ‌was‌ ‌entirely‌ ‌circumstantial.‌ ‌If‌ ‌your‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌tightened‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌neck‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌bottle‌ ‌when‌ ‌she‌ ‌raised‌ ‌an‌ ‌expectant‌ ‌eyebrow,‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌only‌ ‌because‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌still‌ ‌so‌ ‌furious,‌ ‌and‌ ‌possibly‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌bit‌ ‌frightened‌ ‌at‌ ‌locking‌ ‌yourself‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌room‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌murderer.‌ ‌Only‌ ‌natural.‌ ‌ ‌

“Come‌ ‌into‌ ‌my‌ ‌parlour,‌ ‌said‌ ‌the‌ ‌spider‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌fly.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌gestured‌ ‌towards‌ ‌the‌ ‌tufted‌ ‌chairs‌ ‌by‌ ‌the‌ ‌window.‌ ‌“Here‌ ‌to‌ ‌complain‌ ‌about‌ ‌the‌ ‌eyebrows?‌ ‌He‌ ‌‌was‌ ‌‌rude.”‌ ‌ ‌

“You‌ ‌saw?”‌ ‌Your‌ ‌jaw‌ ‌tightened‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌thought‌ ‌that‌ ‌she’d‌ ‌witnessed‌ ‌your‌ ‌humiliation.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌saw‌ ‌what‌ ‌he‌ ‌did?”‌ ‌ 

‌“He‌ ‌lets‌ ‌me‌ ‌watch,‌ ‌thinks‌ ‌it’s‌ ‌educational‌ ‌television.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌stood‌ ‌up‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌piano‌ ‌bench‌ ‌and‌ ‌strolled‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌edge‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌platform,‌ ‌leaning‌ ‌against‌ ‌a‌ ‌pillar.‌ ‌“I’m‌ ‌more‌ ‌into‌ ‌the‌ ‌sex‌ ‌and‌ ‌violence‌ ‌of‌ ‌it.‌ ‌Precious‌ ‌little‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌former‌ ‌today,‌ ‌but‌ ‌I‌ ‌still‌ ‌enjoyed‌ ‌the‌ ‌show.”‌ ‌ ‌

“I‌ ‌almost‌ ‌‌died‌.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Yes,‌ ‌well,‌ ‌that‌ ‌happens.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌flounced‌ ‌down‌ ‌the‌ ‌steps,‌ ‌twirling‌ ‌as‌ ‌she‌ ‌went,‌ ‌and‌ ‌settled‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌chair.‌ ‌“Come‌ ‌on,‌ ‌then.‌ ‌Gin‌ ‌and‌ ‌girl‌ ‌talk,‌ ‌is‌ ‌it,‌ ‌dearest?‌ ‌Tell‌ ‌me‌ ‌how‌ ‌the‌ ‌‌nasty‌ ‌‌Doctor‌ ‌hurt‌ ‌your‌ ‌feelings.”‌ ‌ ‌

This‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌terrible‌ ‌idea.‌ ‌“Forget‌ ‌it.”‌ ‌You‌ ‌tried‌ ‌to‌ ‌sound‌ ‌sharp‌ ‌but‌ ‌humiliating‌ ‌tears‌ ‌of‌ ‌frustration‌ ‌were‌ ‌welling‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes,‌ ‌weakening‌ ‌your‌ ‌voice.‌ ‌“If‌ ‌you’re‌ ‌just‌ ‌going‌ ‌to‌ ‌take‌ ‌the‌ ‌piss‌ ‌I’ll‌ ‌go‌ ‌home.”‌ ‌You‌ ‌turned‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌heels,‌ ‌rubbing‌ ‌at‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌futile‌ ‌attempt‌ ‌to‌ ‌keep‌ ‌from‌ ‌crying.‌ ‌ ‌

‌She‌ ‌sighed‌ ‌heavily.‌ ‌“Don’t‌ ‌be‌ ‌so‌ ‌‌boring‌.‌ ‌Here‌ ‌I‌ ‌am,‌ ‌all‌ ‌banged‌ ‌up‌ ‌with‌ ‌nothing‌ ‌to‌ ‌do,‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌only‌ ‌thing‌ ‌you‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌talk‌ ‌about‌ ‌is‌ ‌how‌ ‌a‌ ‌stupid‌ ‌old‌ ‌man‌ ‌upset‌ ‌you?‌ ‌He‌ ‌does‌ ‌that.‌ ‌It’s‌ ‌his‌ ‌‌thing‌.‌ ‌He’ll‌ ‌start‌ ‌to‌ ‌feel‌ ‌guilty‌ ‌and‌ ‌he’ll‌ ‌come‌ ‌and‌ ‌find‌ ‌you‌ ‌and‌ ‌say‌ ‌something‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌you‌ ‌feel‌ ‌better.‌ ‌You‌ ‌know‌ ‌that.‌ ‌Let’s‌ ‌do‌ ‌something‌ ‌‌fun‌.”‌ ‌You‌ ‌scoffed.‌ ‌“Or‌ ‌you‌ ‌could‌ ‌go‌ ‌and‌ ‌have‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌cry‌ ‌and‌ ‌drink‌ ‌alone‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌bedroom,‌ ‌that‌ ‌definitely‌ ‌sounds‌ ‌better.”‌ ‌ ‌

Okay‌,‌ ‌‌ouch‌.‌ ‌ ‌ 

‌Scowling,‌ ‌you‌ ‌looked‌ ‌back‌ ‌at‌ ‌her.‌ ‌She‌ ‌was‌ ‌draped‌ ‌across‌ ‌the‌ ‌chair,‌ ‌dark‌ ‌skirt‌ ‌gathered‌ ‌around‌ ‌her‌ ‌knees,‌ ‌giving‌ ‌you‌ ‌a‌ ‌glimpse‌ ‌of‌ ‌bare‌ ‌legs‌ ‌and‌ ‌sleek‌ ‌black‌ ‌boots.‌ ‌You‌ ‌swallowed‌ ‌hard.‌ ‌“What‌ ‌did‌ ‌you‌ ‌have‌ ‌in‌ ‌mind?”‌ ‌ ‌

+++++‌ ‌ ‌

“That‌ ‌is‌ ‌‌not‌ ‌‌very‌ ‌accurate.”‌ ‌ ‌

You‌ ‌snorted,‌ ‌glancing‌ ‌away‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌screen‌ ‌to‌ ‌find‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌looking‌ ‌bored.‌ ‌She‌ ‌was‌ ‌hanging‌ ‌off‌ ‌the‌ ‌chair,‌ ‌clutching‌ ‌her‌ ‌half-empty‌ ‌glass‌ ‌in‌ ‌an‌ ‌elegantly‌ ‌manicured‌ ‌hand.‌ ‌“What,‌ ‌have‌ ‌you‌ ‌cut‌ ‌a‌ ‌lot‌ ‌of‌ ‌people‌ ‌in‌ ‌half‌ ‌like‌ ‌that?”‌ ‌ 

‌“Only‌ ‌six‌ ‌or‌ ‌seven.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌sounded‌ ‌far‌ ‌too‌ ‌casual.‌ ‌At‌ ‌any‌ ‌other‌ ‌time‌ ‌it‌ ‌might‌ ‌have‌ ‌worried‌ ‌you,‌ ‌but‌ ‌now,‌ ‌four‌ ‌gins‌ ‌deep‌ ‌and‌ ‌mocking‌ ‌your‌ ‌way‌ ‌through‌ ‌an‌ ‌absurdly‌ ‌gory‌ ‌slasher‌ ‌film‌ ‌with‌ ‌her,‌ ‌it‌ ‌just‌ ‌made‌ ‌you‌ ‌laugh.‌ ‌“The‌ ‌screams‌ ‌are‌ ‌much‌ ‌‌wetter‌,‌ ‌for‌ ‌one‌ ‌thing.‌ ‌Like‌ ‌a‌ ‌gurgling‌ ‌drain‌ ‌saw‌ ‌a‌ ‌ghost.”‌ ‌ ‌

“You’re‌ ‌lying.”‌ ‌It‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌bold‌ ‌assertion,‌ ‌but‌ ‌somehow‌ ‌you‌ ‌just‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌picture‌ ‌it.‌ ‌It‌ ‌seemed‌ ‌a‌ ‌bit‌ ‌too…‌ ‌messy‌ ‌for‌ ‌her.‌ ‌From‌ ‌what‌ ‌you‌ ‌understood‌ ‌she‌ ‌was‌ ‌more‌ ‌into‌ ‌vaporising‌ ‌people‌ ‌and‌ ‌pushing‌ ‌them‌ ‌off‌ ‌of‌ ‌elevated‌ ‌structures.‌ ‌ 

‌“Oh,‌ ‌always,‌ ‌poppet,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌agreed,‌ ‌setting‌ ‌the‌ ‌glass‌ ‌down‌ ‌and‌ ‌swinging‌ ‌her‌ ‌legs‌ ‌over‌ ‌until‌ ‌she‌ ‌was‌ ‌sitting‌ ‌up,‌ ‌looking‌ ‌at‌ ‌you‌ ‌properly.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌have,‌ ‌though.‌ ‌A‌ ‌while‌ ‌ago.‌ ‌Different‌ ‌face.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌punctuated‌ ‌the‌ ‌words‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌delicate‌ ‌wave‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌hand,‌ ‌following‌ ‌the‌ ‌contours‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌features.‌ ‌“Not‌ ‌as‌ ‌nice‌ ‌as‌ ‌this‌ ‌one.”‌ ‌ 

‌“That‌ ‌one’s‌ ‌quite‌ ‌nice,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌admitted,‌ ‌taking‌ ‌another‌ ‌swig.‌ ‌There‌ ‌was‌ ‌an‌ ‌unexpected‌ ‌beat‌ ‌of‌ ‌silence‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌blushed.‌ ‌ 

‌Luckily‌ ‌it‌ ‌was‌ ‌broken‌ ‌when‌ ‌another‌ ‌buxom‌ ‌blonde‌ ‌on‌ ‌screen‌ ‌started‌ ‌begging‌ ‌for‌ ‌her‌ ‌life.‌ ‌You‌ ‌jumped‌ ‌slightly‌ ‌and‌ ‌looked‌ ‌back‌ ‌in‌ ‌time‌ ‌to‌ ‌watch‌ ‌the‌ ‌mutilation‌ ‌beginning.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌mean,‌ ‌there’s‌ ‌no‌ ‌way‌ ‌that‌ ‌‌that‌ ‌‌really‌ ‌happens,‌ ‌is‌ ‌there?”‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ 

‌“What?”‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌looking;‌ ‌her‌ ‌gaze‌ ‌was‌ ‌still‌ ‌fixed‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌face.‌ ‌She‌ ‌turned‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌screen‌ ‌and‌ ‌scoffed.‌ ‌Her‌ ‌accent‌ ‌was‌ ‌getting‌ ‌more‌ ‌pronounced‌ ‌with‌ ‌every‌ ‌glass‌ ‌she‌ ‌poured‌ ‌herself.‌ ‌“‌No‌,‌ ‌that‌ ‌is‌ ‌‌not‌ ‌‌what‌ ‌happens‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌gouge‌ ‌an‌ ‌eye‌ ‌out.”‌ ‌ 

‌+++++‌ ‌ ‌

The‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌found‌ ‌you‌ ‌a few ‌hours‌ ‌later,‌ ‌perched‌ ‌next‌ ‌to‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌piano‌ ‌bench‌ ‌and‌ ‌belting‌ ‌out‌ ‌a‌ ‌truly‌ ‌horrifying‌ ‌rendition‌ ‌of‌ ‌‌Ob-La-Di,‌ ‌Ob-La-Da‌ ‌‌while‌ ‌she‌ ‌played.‌ ‌Her‌ ‌voice‌ ‌was‌ ‌raised‌ ‌in‌ ‌song‌ ‌with‌ ‌you,‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌got‌ ‌the‌ ‌sense‌ ‌that‌ ‌she‌ ‌was‌ ‌deliberately‌ ‌keeping‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌tune‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌music,‌ ‌matching‌ ‌your‌ ‌pitch‌ ‌instead.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌jaw‌ ‌ached‌ ‌from‌ ‌laughing‌ ‌and‌ ‌your‌ ‌head‌ ‌was‌ ‌swimming,‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌side‌ ‌of‌ ‌tipsy‌ ‌by‌ ‌now.‌ ‌ ‌

You‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌hear‌ ‌the‌ ‌door‌ ‌open,‌ ‌almost‌ ‌jumping‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌skin‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌called‌ ‌gruffly,‌ ‌“what‌ ‌the‌ ‌hell‌ ‌‌is‌ ‌going‌ ‌on‌ ‌here?”‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

“Oh,‌ ‌you’re‌ ‌just‌ ‌in‌ ‌time‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌chorus,‌ ‌Doctor,”‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌teased,‌ ‌still‌ ‌playing.‌ ‌“Feel‌ ‌free‌ ‌to‌ ‌join‌ ‌in!‌ ‌The‌ ‌human‌ ‌can‌ ‌hit‌ ‌the‌ ‌high‌ ‌notes‌ ‌but‌ ‌we‌ ‌could‌ ‌do‌ ‌with‌ ‌some‌ ‌backing.”‌ ‌

“Are‌ ‌you‌ ‌‌drunk‌?”‌ ‌His‌ ‌voice‌ ‌was‌ ‌humourless.‌ ‌You‌ ‌shrank‌ ‌back‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌sharpness‌ ‌there,‌ ‌and‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌dropped‌ ‌her‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌keys,‌ ‌wrapping‌ ‌a‌ ‌protective‌ ‌arm‌ ‌around‌ ‌your‌ ‌waist.‌ ‌The‌ ‌gentle‌ ‌pressure‌ ‌made‌ ‌your‌ ‌breath‌ ‌hitch.‌ ‌ 

‌“Don’t‌ ‌be‌ ‌cross‌ ‌with‌ ‌her,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌said‌ ‌firmly.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌were‌ ‌awfully‌ ‌mean‌ ‌today.”‌ ‌ 

‌“Oh,‌ ‌I’m‌ ‌not‌ ‌cross‌ ‌with‌ ‌‌her‌,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌reassured,‌ ‌crossing‌ ‌the‌ ‌room‌ ‌and‌ ‌holding‌ ‌his‌ ‌hand‌ ‌out‌ ‌to‌ ‌help‌ ‌you‌ ‌down‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌platform.‌ ‌His‌ ‌voice‌ ‌softened.‌ ‌“Come‌ ‌on.‌ ‌It’s‌ ‌almost‌ ‌midnight,‌ ‌let‌ ‌me‌ ‌get‌ ‌you‌ ‌home.”‌ ‌ ‌

“But-”‌ ‌you‌ ‌looked‌ ‌back‌ ‌at‌ ‌Missy,‌ ‌pulse‌ ‌quickening‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌closeness‌ ‌of‌ ‌her.‌ ‌She‌ ‌gave‌ ‌you‌ ‌a‌ ‌tender‌ ‌smile‌ ‌and‌ ‌let‌ ‌go‌ ‌of‌ ‌you,‌ ‌nodding‌ ‌towards‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor.‌ ‌ ‌

“Taxi’s‌ ‌here,‌ ‌dearest,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌said‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌wink.‌ ‌“Might‌ ‌even‌ ‌have‌ ‌an‌ ‌apology‌ ‌for‌ ‌you.‌ ‌Time‌ ‌to‌ ‌go.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Yeah,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌agreed,‌ ‌surprised‌ ‌by‌ ‌how‌ ‌much‌ ‌the‌ ‌thought‌ ‌disappointed‌ ‌you.‌ ‌“I’ll,‌ ‌um-‌ ‌I’ll‌ ‌see‌ ‌you‌ ‌soon?”‌ ‌ ‌

“You‌ ‌know‌ ‌where‌ ‌I’ll‌ ‌be.”‌ ‌As‌ ‌you‌ ‌went‌ ‌to‌ ‌stand,‌ ‌she‌ ‌grabbed‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌and‌ ‌squeezed‌ ‌gently.‌ ‌You‌ ‌turned‌ ‌to‌ ‌her,‌ ‌puzzled.‌ ‌“Thank‌ ‌you‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌lovely‌ ‌evening.”‌ ‌There‌ ‌was‌ ‌an‌ ‌odd‌ ‌look‌ ‌in‌ ‌her‌ ‌eye,‌ ‌one‌ ‌you‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌place.‌ ‌ ‌

“Thanks‌ ‌for‌ ‌having‌ ‌me.”‌ ‌So‌ ‌quickly‌ ‌you‌ ‌might‌ ‌have‌ ‌imagined‌ ‌it,‌ ‌she‌ ‌leaned‌ ‌forwards‌ ‌and‌ ‌pressed‌ ‌a‌ ‌single‌ ‌kiss‌ ‌to‌ ‌your‌ ‌cheek.‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ 

‌You‌ ‌stood‌ ‌unsteadily,‌ ‌still‌ ‌wide-eyed,‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌took‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌in‌ ‌his‌ ‌and‌ ‌helped‌ ‌you‌ ‌stumble‌ ‌down‌ ‌the‌ ‌stairs.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌need‌ ‌something‌ ‌to‌ ‌eat,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌fussed,‌ ‌taking‌ ‌so‌ ‌much‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌weight‌ ‌on‌ ‌his‌ ‌shoulder‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌essentially‌ ‌being‌ ‌carried‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault.‌ ‌“And‌ ‌then,‌ ‌I‌ ‌think‌ ‌we‌ ‌need‌ ‌to‌ ‌have‌ ‌a‌ ‌talk.”‌ ‌ ‌

You‌ ‌nodded,‌ ‌not‌ ‌really‌ ‌listening.‌ ‌Usually‌ ‌you‌ ‌would‌ ‌have‌ ‌been‌ ‌ready‌ ‌to‌ ‌fight‌ ‌with‌ ‌him‌ ‌at‌ ‌a‌ ‌moment’s‌ ‌notice,‌ ‌but‌ ‌as‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌drifted‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌lipstick‌ ‌mark‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌cheek,‌ ‌you‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌seem‌ ‌to‌ ‌bring‌ ‌yourself‌ ‌to‌ ‌care.‌ ‌ 

‌+++++‌ ‌ ‌

Despite‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor’s‌ ‌lecture‌ ‌on‌ ‌not‌ ‌having‌ ‌casual‌ ‌drinks‌ ‌with‌ ‌mass‌ ‌murderers‌ ‌-‌ ‌which‌ ‌was‌ ‌almost‌ ‌as‌ ‌effective‌ ‌a‌ ‌deterrent‌ ‌as‌ ‌the‌ ‌blinding‌ ‌hangover‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌nursing‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌listened‌ ‌to‌ ‌it‌ ‌-‌ ‌nights‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault‌ ‌swiftly‌ ‌became‌ ‌routine.‌ ‌You’d‌ ‌show‌ ‌up‌ ‌after‌ ‌a‌ ‌particularly‌ ‌discomforting‌ ‌near‌ ‌miss,‌ ‌or‌ ‌an‌ ‌especially‌ ‌trying‌ ‌argument,‌ ‌bottle‌ ‌in‌ ‌hand‌ ‌and‌ ‌face‌ ‌like‌ ‌thunder,‌ ‌and‌ ‌leave‌ ‌with‌ ‌your‌ ‌throat‌ ‌sore‌ ‌from‌ ‌laughing‌ ‌when‌ ‌he‌ ‌came‌ ‌to‌ ‌drag‌ ‌you‌ ‌out‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌small‌ ‌hours‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌morning.‌ ‌Somewhere‌ ‌around‌ ‌the‌ ‌fourth‌ ‌time‌ ‌you‌ ‌decided‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌it‌ ‌official.‌ ‌ ‌

“Vault‌ ‌night?”‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌gave‌ ‌you‌ ‌a‌ ‌withering‌ ‌look‌ ‌over‌ ‌her‌ ‌glass.‌ ‌You’d‌ ‌stormed‌ ‌off‌ ‌after‌ ‌an‌ ‌argument‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌on‌ ‌Gemini‌ ‌7,‌ ‌stopping‌ ‌by‌ ‌an‌ ‌alien‌ ‌corner‌ ‌shop‌ ‌to‌ ‌pick‌ ‌up‌ ‌something‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌‌doozy‌ ‌‌of‌ ‌a‌ ‌night‌ ‌in‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌already‌ ‌planning.‌ ‌It‌ ‌was‌ ‌some‌ ‌kind‌ ‌of‌ ‌fruity‌ ‌rum-like‌ ‌spirit‌ ‌that‌ ‌burned‌ ‌your‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌smelled‌ ‌it,‌ ‌but‌ ‌paired‌ ‌surprisingly‌ ‌well‌ ‌with‌ ‌cheap‌ ‌Earth‌ ‌lemonade.‌ ‌“Every‌ ‌night‌ ‌is‌ ‌vault‌ ‌night.‌ ‌I’m‌ ‌always‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault,‌ ‌that’s…‌ ‌rather ‌the‌ ‌point,‌ ‌dear.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Well,‌ ‌yeah,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌agreed,‌ ‌heedless‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌sarcastic‌ ‌tone.‌ ‌“But‌ ‌‌I’m‌ ‌‌not.‌ ‌If‌ ‌we‌ ‌make‌ ‌it‌ ‌a‌ ‌weekly‌ ‌thing‌ ‌then‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌plan‌ ‌for‌ ‌it,‌ ‌get‌ ‌some‌ ‌new‌ ‌board‌ ‌games,”‌ ‌sorely‌ ‌needed‌ ‌after‌ ‌the‌ ‌disastrous‌ ‌night‌ ‌you‌ ‌tried‌ ‌to‌ ‌play‌ ‌Jenga‌ ‌with‌ ‌her‌ ‌and‌ ‌almost‌ ‌died‌ ‌(who‌ ‌knew‌ ‌the‌ ‌Gallifreyan‌ ‌rules‌ ‌were‌ ‌so‌ ‌different?).‌ ‌“I‌ ‌can‌ ‌bring‌ ‌food,‌ ‌and‌ ‌‌most‌ ‌‌importantly,‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌tell‌ ‌the‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌that‌ ‌I’m‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌service‌ ‌on‌ ‌Sundays‌ ‌until‌ ‌further‌ ‌notice‌ ‌so‌ ‌that‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌be‌ ‌hungover‌ ‌in‌ ‌peace‌ ‌instead‌ ‌of‌ ‌getting‌ ‌dragged‌ ‌around‌ ‌Martian‌ ‌car‌ ‌boot‌ ‌sales.”‌ ‌ ‌

She‌ ‌snorted.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌liked‌ ‌the‌ ‌snow‌ ‌globe.”‌ ‌ 

‌You‌ ‌grinned‌ ‌and‌ ‌glanced‌ ‌over‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌trinket‌ ‌you’d‌ ‌brought‌ ‌back‌ ‌for‌ ‌her,‌ ‌a‌ ‌figurine‌ ‌of‌ ‌an‌ ‌Ice‌ ‌Warrior‌ ‌decapitating‌ ‌a‌ ‌human,‌ ‌trapped‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌sparkling‌ ‌glass‌ ‌orb‌ ‌full‌ ‌of‌ ‌fake‌ ‌snow.‌ ‌The‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌had‌ ‌wrinkled‌ ‌his‌ ‌nose‌ ‌but‌ ‌agreed‌ ‌to‌ ‌give‌ ‌you‌ ‌the‌ ‌cash‌ ‌for‌ ‌it.‌ ‌‌A‌ ‌belated‌ ‌vault-warming‌ ‌present‌,‌ ‌you’d‌ ‌called‌ ‌it.‌ ‌ 

‌“Fine,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌agreed,‌ ‌with‌ ‌theatrical‌ ‌reluctance.‌ ‌“Saturday‌ ‌night‌ ‌is‌ ‌Vault‌ ‌Night.”‌ ‌ ‌

“I’ll‌ ‌bring‌ ‌pizza‌ ‌and‌ ‌Uno.”‌ ‌You‌ ‌stood,‌ ‌wobbling‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌bit,‌ ‌and‌ ‌she‌ ‌chuckled‌ ‌and‌ ‌steadied‌ ‌you‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌hand‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌side.‌ ‌Even‌ ‌as‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌getting‌ ‌used‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌morbid‌ ‌sense‌ ‌of‌ ‌humour,‌ ‌her‌ ‌love‌ ‌of‌ ‌all‌ ‌things‌ ‌gruesome,‌ ‌the‌ ‌casual‌ ‌touches‌ ‌only‌ ‌seemed‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌getting‌ ‌more‌ ‌confusing.‌ ‌She‌ would‌ ‌lean‌ ‌over‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌pour‌ ‌more‌ ‌drinks,‌ ‌close‌ ‌enough‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌could‌ ‌smell‌ ‌the‌ ‌perfume‌ ‌on‌ ‌her‌ ‌neck;‌ ‌she‌ ‌would‌ ‌grasp‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌and‌ ‌tug‌ ‌you‌ ‌towards‌ ‌the‌ ‌piano‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌song.‌ ‌Once,‌ ‌while‌ ‌music‌ ‌played‌ ‌over‌ ‌unseen‌ ‌speakers,‌ ‌she’d‌ ‌proclaimed,‌ ‌“oh,‌ ‌this‌ ‌one‌ ‌is‌ ‌‌yummy‌,”‌ ‌and‌ ‌wrapped‌ ‌an‌ ‌arm‌ ‌around‌ ‌your‌ ‌waist‌ ‌to‌ ‌dance,‌ ‌twirling‌ ‌you‌ ‌around‌ ‌the‌ ‌vault‌ ‌until‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌both‌ ‌too‌ ‌dizzy‌ ‌to‌ ‌carry‌ ‌on‌ ‌and‌ ‌collapsed‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌chaise,‌ ‌hysterical.‌

Totally‌ ‌normal.‌ ‌Don’t‌ ‌need‌ ‌to‌ ‌think‌ ‌about‌ ‌that‌ ‌too‌ ‌hard.‌ ‌ ‌

When‌ ‌the‌ ‌door‌ ‌opened‌ ‌she‌ ‌snatched‌ ‌her‌ ‌hand‌ ‌away‌ ‌as‌ ‌if‌ ‌she’d‌ ‌been‌ ‌caught‌ ‌touching‌ ‌something‌ ‌that wasn’t hers.‌ ‌“Home‌ ‌time‌ ‌already?”‌ ‌She‌ ‌pouted‌ ‌in‌ ‌a‌ ‌way‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌thought‌ ‌was‌ ‌only‌ ‌half‌ ‌joking.‌ ‌ ‌

“Apparently‌ ‌so.”‌ ‌The‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌grimaced‌ ‌at‌ ‌you‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌doorway,‌ ‌holding‌ ‌out‌ ‌his‌ ‌hand.‌ ‌You‌ ‌ignored‌ ‌him‌ ‌and‌ ‌turned‌ ‌back‌ ‌to‌ ‌her.‌ ‌“I’ll‌ ‌be‌ ‌back‌ ‌on‌ ‌Saturday,‌ ‌yeah?‌ ‌Five‌ ‌days.”‌ ‌ 

‌“Five‌ ‌days,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌agreed.‌ ‌Slowly‌ ‌she‌ ‌reached‌ ‌for‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand,‌ ‌bringing‌ ‌it‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌lips‌ ‌and‌ ‌brushing‌ ‌a‌ ‌lingering‌ ‌kiss‌ ‌against‌ ‌your‌ ‌knuckles.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌pulse‌ ‌skipped.‌ ‌“Be‌ ‌safe,‌ ‌poppet.”‌ ‌ 

‌“I-‌ ‌um,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌swallowed‌ ‌nervously.‌ ‌“I’ll‌ ‌try.”‌ ‌

 ‌+++++‌ ‌

‌“I’m‌ ‌very‌ ‌glad,‌ ‌you‌ ‌know.‌ ‌Honestly.”‌ ‌ ‌You‌ ‌glanced‌ ‌away‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌Uno‌ ‌cards‌ ‌that‌ ‌were‌ ‌growing‌ ‌increasingly‌ ‌hard‌ ‌to‌ ‌focus‌ ‌on‌ ‌and‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌Missy’s‌ ‌sprawled‌ ‌figure‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌parquet‌ ‌floor.‌ ‌Takeaway‌ ‌pizza‌ ‌and‌ ‌‌astonishingly‌ ‌‌strong‌ ‌Plutonian‌ ‌brandy‌ ‌had‌ ‌made‌ ‌for‌ ‌an‌ ‌enjoyable‌ ‌first‌ ‌Vault‌ ‌Night‌ ‌so‌ ‌far,‌ ‌though‌ ‌she’d‌ ‌beaten‌ ‌you‌ ‌several‌ ‌times‌ ‌already‌ ‌at‌ ‌every‌ ‌game‌ ‌you‌ ‌brought‌ ‌with‌ ‌you.‌ ‌The‌ ‌glee‌ ‌on‌ ‌her‌ ‌face‌ ‌each‌ ‌time‌ ‌she‌ ‌won‌ ‌had‌ ‌led‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌believe‌ ‌that‌ ‌she‌ ‌wouldn’t‌ ‌get‌ ‌bored‌ ‌of‌ ‌it,‌ ‌but‌ ‌her‌ ‌cards‌ ‌were‌ ‌face‌ ‌down‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌floor‌ ‌and‌ ‌she‌ ‌was‌ ‌looking‌ ‌intently‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌wood‌ ‌grain,‌ ‌tracing‌ ‌it‌ ‌with‌ ‌her‌ ‌fingertip.‌ ‌ 

‌“About‌ ‌what?”‌ ‌You‌ ‌stretched‌ ‌out‌ ‌and‌ ‌gave‌ ‌her‌ ‌a‌ ‌gentle‌ ‌nudge‌ ‌with‌ ‌your‌ ‌foot.‌ ‌“Come‌ ‌on,‌ ‌play‌ ‌the‌ ‌game.”‌ ‌ ‌

“I’m‌ ‌very‌ ‌glad‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌get‌ ‌eaten‌ ‌by‌ ‌a‌ ‌giant‌ ‌lizard.”‌ ‌ ‌ 

‌You‌ ‌laughed.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌mean,‌ ‌same,‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌fair.”‌ ‌ ‌

“‌No‌,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌drawled,‌ ‌thickly‌ ‌accented,‌ ‌and‌ ‌rose‌ ‌up‌ ‌on‌ ‌her‌ ‌palms‌ ‌to‌ ‌look‌ ‌you‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌eye.‌ ‌“I’m‌ ‌telling‌ ‌you‌ ‌that‌ ‌I,‌ ‌Missy,‌ ‌the‌ ‌‌Mistress‌,‌ ‌last‌ ‌of‌ ‌the-‌ ‌penultimate‌ ‌of‌ ‌the-,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌help‌ ‌grinning‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌way‌ ‌she‌ ‌slurred‌ ‌and‌ ‌stumbled,‌ ‌belying‌ ‌the‌ ‌imperious‌ ‌tone‌ ‌in‌ ‌her‌ ‌voice.‌ ‌She‌ ‌sighed‌ ‌and‌ ‌scrubbed‌ ‌a‌ ‌hand‌ ‌over‌ ‌her‌ ‌face,‌ ‌trying‌ ‌again.‌ ‌“‌One‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌Lords‌ ‌of‌ ‌Gallifrey.‌ ‌I‌ ‌am‌ ‌very‌ ‌glad‌ ‌‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌get‌ ‌eaten‌ ‌by‌ ‌a‌ ‌giant‌ ‌lizard‌ ‌that‌ ‌day.”‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ 

‌“Okay?”‌ ‌You‌ ‌frowned‌ ‌slightly‌ ‌when‌ ‌she‌ ‌looked‌ ‌up‌ ‌at‌ ‌you,‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌dark,‌ ‌face‌ ‌serious.‌ ‌“Missy,‌ ‌I‌ ‌don’t-‌ ‌I’m‌ ‌sorry,‌ ‌I‌ ‌don’t‌ ‌understand.”‌ ‌ 

‌“Neither‌ ‌do‌ ‌I,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌admitted,‌ ‌hand‌ ‌fluttering‌ ‌in‌ ‌front‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌eyes.‌ ‌“In‌ ‌my‌ ‌head,‌ ‌that‌ ‌was‌ ‌it.”‌ ‌ 

‌“That‌ ‌was‌ ‌what?”‌ ‌You‌ ‌offered‌ ‌her‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌but‌ ‌she‌ ‌waved‌ ‌it‌ ‌away,‌ ‌climbing‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌knees‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌floor‌ ‌in‌ ‌front‌ ‌of‌ ‌you.‌ ‌“That‌ ‌was‌ ‌it,‌ ‌to…‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌good,‌ ‌you‌ ‌mean?”‌ ‌ 

‌“No,‌ ‌I‌ ‌‌don’t‌ ‌‌mean,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌spat,‌ ‌voice‌ ‌so‌ ‌venomous‌ ‌that‌ ‌you‌ ‌flinched.‌ ‌“Good,‌ ‌good,‌ ‌good,‌ ‌that’s‌ ‌all‌ ‌you‌ ‌two‌ ‌ever‌ ‌think‌ ‌about.‌ ‌Well‌ ‌what’s‌ ‌‌good‌?”‌ ‌She‌ ‌gestured‌ ‌wildly‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌“He‌ ‌left‌ ‌you‌ ‌alone‌ ‌to‌ ‌‌die‌ ‌‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌almost‌ ‌did,‌ ‌was‌ ‌‌that‌ ‌‌good?‌ ‌You‌ ‌came‌ ‌to‌ ‌me,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌pointed‌ ‌at‌ ‌her‌ ‌chest,‌ ‌which‌ ‌was‌ ‌heaving‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌force‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌outburst.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌came‌ ‌to‌ ‌me‌ ‌crying‌ ‌and‌ ‌feeling‌ ‌like‌ ‌‌nothing‌.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Missy,”‌ ‌your‌ ‌throat‌ ‌was‌ ‌starting‌ ‌to‌ ‌ache‌ ‌with‌ ‌tears,‌ ‌and‌ ‌you‌ ‌swallowed‌ ‌them‌ ‌back.‌ ‌‌Stupid‌ ‌space‌ ‌brandy‌.‌ ‌“He‌ ‌just-‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌a‌ ‌mistake‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌made‌ ‌it‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌me,‌ ‌we‌ ‌got‌ ‌over‌ ‌it.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Yes,‌ ‌of‌ ‌course,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌nodded,‌ ‌rubbing‌ ‌her‌ ‌eye‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌heel‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌hand.‌ ‌“Yes,‌ ‌you‌ ‌‌made‌ ‌up‌,‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌you?‌ ‌You‌ ‌forgave‌ ‌him,‌ ‌just‌ ‌like‌ ‌that.”‌ ‌She‌ ‌snapped‌ ‌her‌ ‌fingers‌ ‌for‌ ‌emphasis.‌ ‌“Well‌ ‌‌I‌ ‌didn’t‌.‌ ‌I‌ ‌‌don’t‌,‌ ‌do‌ ‌you‌ ‌understand?‌ ‌I‌ ‌don’t‌ ‌forgive‌ ‌him‌ ‌for‌ ‌it.”‌ ‌ 

‌“For‌ ‌what?‌ ‌For‌ ‌leaving‌ ‌me?”‌ ‌She‌ ‌was‌ ‌closer‌ ‌now,‌ ‌her‌ ‌hands‌ ‌coming‌ ‌to‌ ‌rest‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌knees‌ ‌as‌ ‌she‌ ‌leaned‌ ‌up‌ ‌towards‌ ‌you.‌ ‌There‌ ‌were‌ ‌only‌ ‌inches‌ ‌between‌ ‌you.‌ ‌“It’s‌ ‌alright.‌ ‌I’m‌ ‌alright.”‌ ‌ ‌

“It’s‌ ‌not‌ ‌alright,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌said‌ ‌pleadingly.‌ ‌“It’s‌ ‌not.‌ ‌You‌ ‌would‌ ‌never‌ ‌have‌ ‌come‌ ‌here.‌ ‌You‌ ‌and‌ ‌I,‌ ‌we‌ ‌would‌ ‌never-‌ ‌‌ugh‌,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌raked‌ ‌a‌ ‌hand‌ ‌through‌ ‌her‌ ‌hair.‌ ‌“Why‌ ‌is‌ ‌this‌ ‌so‌ ‌‌hard‌?”‌ ‌ 

‌“Just‌ ‌tell‌ ‌me‌ ‌what’s‌ ‌wrong,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌implored,‌ ‌reaching‌ ‌out‌ ‌to‌ ‌cup‌ ‌her‌ ‌cheek‌ ‌before‌ ‌you‌ ‌could‌ ‌stop‌ ‌yourself.‌ ‌“Please,‌ ‌Missy.”‌ ‌You‌ ‌expected‌ ‌her‌ ‌to‌ ‌flinch,‌ ‌but‌ ‌she‌ ‌leaned‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌like‌ ‌she‌ ‌hadn’t‌ ‌been‌ ‌touched‌ ‌in‌ ‌years.‌ ‌ ‌

Near‌ ‌enough,‌ ‌probably‌.‌ ‌ 

‌“If‌ ‌you‌ ‌travelled ‌with‌ ‌me‌ ‌I’d‌ ‌never‌ ‌leave‌ ‌you,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌breathed,‌ ‌eyelids‌ ‌fluttering‌ ‌closed‌ ‌as‌ ‌she‌ ‌placed‌ ‌her‌ ‌hand‌ ‌over‌ ‌yours.‌ ‌“I’d‌ ‌never‌ ‌let‌ ‌you‌ ‌be‌ ‌so‌ ‌hurt,‌ ‌so‌ ‌scared.‌ ‌He‌ ‌doesn’t‌ ‌deserve‌ ‌you.”‌ ‌ 

‌You‌ ‌smiled‌ ‌tearfully.‌ ‌“He’s‌ ‌my‌ ‌friend.‌ ‌He‌ ‌has‌ ‌his‌ ‌moments‌ ‌but-‌ ‌he’s‌ ‌my‌ ‌friend,‌ ‌and‌ ‌so‌ ‌are‌ ‌you.”‌ ‌ ‌

“I‌ ‌don’t‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌your‌ ‌friend.”‌ ‌Missy‌ ‌opened‌ ‌her‌ ‌eyes,‌ ‌ice-pale‌ ‌and‌ ‌gleaming‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌smudged‌ ‌black‌ ‌makeup‌ ‌she‌ ‌wore.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌heart‌ ‌wrenched‌ ‌when‌ ‌you‌ ‌felt‌ ‌the‌ ‌first‌ ‌warm‌ ‌drops‌ ‌of‌ ‌saltwater‌ ‌streaking‌ ‌down‌ ‌her‌ ‌cheek.‌ ‌Her‌ ‌hand‌ ‌tightened‌ ‌on‌ ‌your‌ ‌thigh,‌ ‌clutching‌ ‌it‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌drowning‌ ‌man‌ ‌thrown‌ ‌a‌ ‌rope.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌‌yours‌.”‌ ‌ ‌

‌Stunned‌ ‌to‌ ‌silence,‌ ‌you‌ ‌took‌ ‌her‌ ‌face‌ ‌in‌ ‌both‌ ‌hands‌ ‌and‌ ‌leaned‌ ‌closer.‌ ‌She‌ ‌kept‌ ‌her‌ ‌eyes‌ ‌fixed‌ ‌on‌ ‌yours,‌ ‌breathing‌ ‌harsh‌ ‌and‌ ‌open-mouthed.‌ ‌When‌ ‌you‌ ‌were‌ ‌able‌ ‌to‌ ‌speak,‌ ‌your‌ ‌bottom‌ ‌lip‌ ‌trembled.‌ ‌ 

‌“You‌ ‌‌stupid‌,‌ ‌‌ridiculous‌ ‌‌Time‌ ‌Lady,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌managed,‌ ‌caught‌ ‌between‌ ‌laughing‌ ‌and‌ ‌weeping.‌ ‌“Why‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌you‌ ‌just‌ ‌‌say‌ ‌so‌?”‌ ‌ ‌

Missy‌ ‌made‌ ‌a‌ ‌soft,‌ ‌broken‌ ‌noise‌ ‌and‌ ‌inclined‌ ‌her‌ ‌head,‌ ‌bringing‌ ‌her‌ ‌lips‌ ‌to‌ ‌yours.‌ She ‌tasted‌ ‌bitter‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌tears‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌alcohol,‌ ‌and‌ ‌your‌ ‌head‌ ‌spun‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌thought‌ ‌that‌ ‌this‌ ‌was‌ ‌‌her‌,‌ ‌Missy,‌ ‌traveller ‌in‌ ‌space‌ ‌and‌ ‌time,‌ ‌ancient‌ ‌as‌ ‌the‌ ‌‌moon‌ ‌‌and‌ ‌somehow,‌ ‌by‌ ‌some‌ ‌mad‌ ‌virtue‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌universe,‌ ‌on‌ ‌her‌ ‌knees‌ ‌begging‌ ‌you‌ ‌to‌ ‌want‌ ‌her.‌ ‌The‌ ‌bizarre,‌ ‌the‌ ‌surreal‌ ‌had‌ ‌become‌ ‌old‌ ‌hat‌ ‌since‌ ‌you‌ ‌met‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌Lords,‌ ‌but‌ ‌this‌ ‌was‌ ‌something‌ ‌different.‌ ‌This‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌dream‌ ‌come‌ ‌true.‌ ‌ 

‌You‌ ‌broke‌ ‌away,‌ ‌gasping‌ ‌for‌ ‌breath,‌ ‌and‌ ‌leaned‌ ‌your‌ ‌forehead‌ ‌against‌ ‌hers.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌love‌ ‌you,‌ ‌Missy,”‌ ‌you‌ ‌said‌ ‌simply,‌ ‌but‌ ‌the‌ ‌words‌ ‌sounded‌ ‌so‌ ‌small‌ ‌after‌ ‌hers.‌ ‌“I‌ ‌want‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌yours,‌ ‌too.”‌ ‌ 

‌“You‌ ‌are,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌promised,‌ ‌guiding‌ ‌your‌ ‌hand‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌press‌ ‌against‌ ‌her‌ ‌chest.‌ ‌You‌ ‌could‌ ‌feel‌ ‌the‌ ‌twin‌ ‌heartbeats‌ ‌there,‌ ‌beating‌ ‌out‌ ‌a‌ ‌hypnotising‌ ‌rhythm‌ ‌into‌ ‌your‌ ‌palm.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌are. ‌Always.”‌ ‌ 

‌+++++‌ ‌ ‌

The‌ ‌Doctor‌ ‌found‌ ‌you‌ ‌asleep‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌sofa,‌ ‌tucked‌ ‌close‌ ‌into‌ ‌Missy’s‌ ‌chest;‌ ‌her‌ ‌hair‌ ‌was‌ ‌splayed‌ ‌across‌ ‌the‌ ‌cushion‌ ‌beneath‌ ‌her,‌ ‌your‌ ‌cheek‌ ‌pressed‌ ‌close‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌hearts.‌ ‌One‌ ‌hand‌ ‌cradled‌ ‌your‌ ‌head‌ ‌and‌ ‌the‌ ‌other‌ ‌rested‌ ‌protectively‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌small‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌back.‌ ‌ ‌

He‌ ‌frowned‌ ‌down‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌image‌ ‌of‌ ‌contentment‌ ‌and‌ ‌she‌ ‌opened‌ ‌her‌ ‌eyes,‌ ‌holding‌ ‌you‌ ‌tighter‌ ‌when‌ ‌she‌ ‌saw‌ ‌the‌ ‌look‌ ‌on‌ ‌his‌ ‌face.‌ ‌ ‌He raised his hands in surrender, a silent promise not to take you from her.‌ ‌

“We’ll‌ ‌talk‌ ‌about‌ ‌this,”‌ ‌he‌ ‌said‌ ‌quietly.‌ ‌“You‌ ‌know‌ ‌that.”‌ ‌ ‌

“Of‌ ‌course,”‌ ‌she‌ ‌agreed,‌ ‌kissing‌ ‌the‌ ‌top‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌head.‌ ‌“In‌ ‌the‌ ‌morning?”‌ ‌ 

‌“Yeah.”‌ ‌He‌ ‌couldn’t‌ ‌stop‌ ‌the‌ ‌small‌ ‌smile‌ ‌that‌ ‌tugged‌ ‌at‌ ‌his‌ ‌lips,‌ ‌throwing‌ ‌a‌ ‌blanket‌ ‌he’d‌ ‌brought‌ ‌with‌ ‌him‌ ‌over‌ ‌the‌ ‌two‌ ‌of‌ ‌you.‌ ‌“In‌ ‌the‌ ‌morning.”‌ ‌ ‌

[second-chance-stray]

Rp Log: Cravs meets Dornn.

Cravendy Hound ‘s evasive maneuvers have led her far beyond the reaches of Gridania - hell, she’s nearly in Coerthas, at this point. But the ones following her (a pair of clearly Ul’dahn lalafellin adventurers) are equally determined to find her, and Sea Wolves tend to stand out. It’s hard to hide when you’re literally several heads above the crowd. For now, she’s made good distance between her and her pursuers, and she ducks behind a rock to take a breather.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn || In swift trot, and swifter pursuit yet, did the waddling of teeny-tiny Lalafellin feet soon encroach upon the desolate--and terribly Lunar Golem-deprived--platform, cascading upwards to Dalamud's shards. Whether bickering or pants drew more sound was heretofore unknown--but it was not wholly long before the fledgling lass, secluded as she was behind her choice of rock, felt a much more swollen, dark shadow dwarf her from behind. Atop a comparably /larger/ rock (of which there were many >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > around here, surely), twin rubies smote down upon her, embellished with a squint of scorn, as the brilliance of the Moon slipped betwixt the wolven pelt adorning the giant's noggin. "The -eyn- time I -try- to find mohtfryd in the most desolate corner of the Hylt..." His voice rang clear, with a low, guttural thrum as he barked quietly. "Who the blaethyll are ye even, lass?"

(Cravendy Hound) what a glorious entrance (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Ironically she caught him in a time limbo (since this likely happens just a moon ahead of current date likely) (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) AKA at the climax of his current mini-arc (Cravendy Hound) mini arc?! :O (Cravendy Hound) whats been going down (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) You're the first person to get a proper taste of it before anyone else. (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) You'll find out. (Cravendy Hound) oh daym, early access (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Just like with your art! (Cravendy Hound) his 'wild mountain man' arc, I will assume then >:D (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) In part, ish.

Cravendy Hound hadn’t been expecting company, not anywhere...but especially not out here. So focused she was on watching for the two lalafell adventurers that she didn’t notice his shadow cast over her space. It was only when he spoke that she snapped, like a rubber band held tense breaking without warning. She whips around and points a gun at his chest, her teeth bared with a cornered stray. “Who the fuck?”

Cravendy Hound keeps her gaze steady on the newcomer, but the sound of steps echoing throughout the bluff remind her of her present predicament. She brings her voice down to a harsh whisper. Gods, she doesn’t have time for this. “Keep yer bloody voice down! I could ask ye the same.”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn || The band upon his hues may've concealed much to him where physical sight was concerned; but in the world of aether, the faint flickers and fluctuations of the pursuers, as well as the pursued, came in clear as crystal. "Keep yer blaetstymm down? Just the opposite, lass." He knew full well--if not too well--the garb of those pledged to Ul'dahn gutters and less formidable circles. A stiff grunt and a flare of his nostrils broke the peace, as he straightened his form upon the rocky outcrop.>

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > To the heavens, his spine had fled; and to the Lalafell, his voice thundered. "Ye who step on soil uncharted, would have yer freedom bartered..." Raising a palm in warning, the aetherial wellspring of Dalamud's remains soon began to bleed deeper into the land, coalescing under the very rock he held domain over. "Turn -back- now or with an axe in yer breast." With each of his words, a star upon the gown of night was drowned out--dark, foreboding clouds began to roll all the closer in, >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > drowning moonlight out, each pale strand waning out with each of his wovels.

Cravendy Hound ‘s face drops from snarl to frown at the stranger’s stunt, but it’s too late now. Voice like that carried far and there was no chance it would go unnoticed. She presses her back against her rock and waits, listening for their response and waiting for an opportunity to flee. Killing these two would simply make things worse.

Cravendy Hound - The lalafell pair turn to look at Dornn. With Dalamud serving as his backdrop, he makes for a formidable foe, and one of them is clearly unnerved by his warning. But the other stands their ground and waves at him in greeting. “Hello, good sir! We don’t mean to intrude on private affairs, but there’s a dangerous criminal hiding in these lands, and we mean to bring her to justice. Have you seen anyone else around?”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn raised his proud chin taller, his vigil unbroken upon the parleying Lalafellin. It wasn't long before the boon of his deep voice interjected, crashing against the offered greeting. "Judged. By. Who." He slowly uttered, the raised limb curling into a commanding fist towards the offending couple. The tresses of aether soon enough began to drench the land from Dalamud's copse, rising to figuratively soak his feet within it. Ever patiently, he awaited their response, even as the crackle of >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > thunder soon began to drift through the blanket of clouds--an eerie downpour of rain carried upon the light sway of wind.

Cravendy Hound - The cowering lalafell tugs at the others sleeve, desperate to leave this place with their lives intact, but the other pays no mind. “Weird weather we’re having! But, ah, of course. Let me refer to my documents.” The foolhardy lalafell pulls out a document. A few words here and there are drowned out by thunder.

Cravendy Hound - “By the order of Lord ------ of the Uldahn merchant’s circle, Cravendy, a Seawolf female of roughly twenty seven summers, is wanted for the following crimes. Theft, destruction of property, attempted assassination, vandalism, public drinking....” The list goes on and on and on, with items both extreme and absurdly mundane. When the lalafell is finally done, they roll up the document, chest puffed and proud.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn appeared particularly unnerved--if not, peeved--the moment the Ul'dahn banner was thrown into the lot of the meeting. Without moving his noggin, through his blindfold, his hues locked upon Cravendy's own, a secluded brow lifting in query. Not that she could see it. Ere long, his own voice rose to combat the claims. "Ul'dahn, aye?" It was with terrible difficulty that his tongue kept his accent under restraints, but so far little seemed to evade him. "Neither scoundrel nor ne'er-do-well >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > passes through these lands unscorned, this corner moreso than any other. No tarrying devil living abides about us now, as the land broke them like as not, long afore. Ye may go back to yer crooked purse-masters at ease o' heart."

Cravendy Hound grows pale, not sure if she should be more concerned about the lalafell adventurers or the strange man. She rubs at her temples as a headache builds.

Cravendy Hound - Fear finally takes hold of the less brave lalafell, who’s sent scrambling away back north and away from these rocky bluffs. Now alone, the other lalafell takes a step back, feeling unnerved. “If that’s so, could you lead us to a body? Our employer was very clear that if the target could not be taken in alive, he wanted proof that they were taken care of.”

Cravendy Hound - “Specifically, and this was the lord’s very words...’Her stupid red bandanna, if not her head.” The lalafell calls out. Cravs looks up to Dornn and shakes her head no. What now?

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn retracted the immense limb back to the swell of his waist, planting his fingers sternly atop it. Maintaining the glare from afar, a guttural growl began to underline his tongue, as the swell overhead grew far more ripe with levin; fit to properly burst. "Those bartering with the Forest's ways must pay the price--you may see the body, most certainly." His voice gradually gained in echo, until the bellow began to ricochet against every nook and rocky cranny. "If you have a mind to offer up >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > your own flesh. An eye for an eye, a due price wagered in blood and bone. Yet, with your companion now perished..." His right paw rose aloft once more, deliberating over the matter with a cup of his chin. "There'd be none left to report to your masters. Provided he, too, has not perished. 'Tis a grave, grave death sentence to wander the Forest alone... And as it stands..." His glare refocused on the gallant Lalafell, his shoulders noticeably squaring. "You are all... Alone."

Cravendy Hound - Upon being outright threatened with death, the lalafell’s courage begins to waver. One step back multiplies into many, though they keep their front facing Dornn. “A-ah, I never quite understood, er, Gridanian customs? I see! W-well, thank you kindly for your aid. It would seem this corner of the woods hides many secrets, a-and it would be foolish to go searching for them alone.

Cravendy Hound - Once they’ve backed up as far as they can go, they bow, and then quickly duck behind a rocky turn to search for their companion.

Cravendy Hound lets out a breath, but the tension doesn’t leave her shoulders. She still has her gun trained on Dornn’s form, and with the other two down, has the freedom to speak once more. “...What game are ye playin’.”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn gave a most curt nod to the departing Lalafell, the strength of his voice unwavering ever still on. "Report to your master that your villain is long since perished, as ye claim for it to have strolled through these woods. Of that, ye can be certain as far as Gridanian customs go." Once finally he felt the aether of the land up once more--and the Lalafell were truly dispersed--his hues opened again, steering his steely countenance down at the lass afore him. A quizzical expression formed >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > upon his lips, yet his feet knew little rest; with a light prance, he took abandon of the rock below him, effortlessly finding ground anew. "You place your judgement into the barrel of your... Firearm? -That- quick to hand out hollow justice?" Regardless, he strode fearlessly in front of her, planting both of his palms upon his armored waist. "Go on, then. Pull the trigger."

Cravendy Hound steps closer and closer still, until the other end of her flintlock is pressed against the metal of his breastplate. A familiar sensation washes over her. Ansty and impatient and eager to gun down any who even glance at her in the wrong way. That is who she was - but is it who she is now? Cravs narrows her eyes but pulls the gun away, arm falling slack to her side.

Cravendy Hound: “Why did ye ‘elp me back there? And what are ye doin’ to these lands.” The questions fill the space like hot air, more akin to demands.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn stood near motionless as she pinned the cold steel against his armaments, yet the shot never shuffled through the barrel. "You interrupted my training, merlswys." He chose to, as ever, make his mind known, ere he took to her own query... Not that he'd answer any in particular, either. His lips maintained a neutral bend, as his knees bent ever so slightly lower, his hulking frame descending to match her height. "...Unharmed, ja?" He deeply thrummed, allowing his accent to unfetter once more.

Cravendy Hound pouts, sensing that she’s not going to get any clear answers from this guy anytime soon. She glances behind her at the entrance of this opening, double checking that no ones around. “Bah. I’m fine. I...” A simple thank you would suffice, but the words get stuck in her throat. Damnit, and she had been working on this! Cravs shakes her head and tries to convey her feelings in another way. “I would’ve been fine without ye buttin’ in.”

Cravendy Hound internally dies. Wrong words, Cravs! WRONG.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn momentarily stood half-dumbfounded--not certain as to what to make of her wording, it would not take him long to catch on, either way. A gradual half-smirk decorated his lips, as his fist arose, pounding twice-over against his broad breast. "Aye, I am all but certain those villains rightly -cowered- at yer hidin'-behind-the-rock skills." His smirk soon grew into a nostalgic smile, as his chin respectfully in a bow. "Rhotdornn Aerst-born, syn von Hyrtfyr. At yer service, and yer family's."

Cravendy Hound: “Tch! I easily could’ve dealt with them. Just that’d make things worse, so I didn’t.” She trails off. It wasn’t as if she was in the clear after this. Her pursuer’s lord held a grudge that ran dangerously deep, bordering on obsession. He wasn’t the type to give up easily.

Cravendy Hound: “Rhotdornn Aerst-born, syn...Seven ‘ells, what a mouthful.” She pauses. “Hyrtfyr. Now that’s somethin’ I didn’t expect to ‘ear, and out in bloody nowhere of all places.”

Cravendy Hound: “Ye ‘eard the two midgets. I go by Cravendy, but ye can just call me Cravs.” She shakes her head in disbelief. Either he was pretending, or he wasn’t, but that didn’t change the strangeness of the situation. Two Sea Wolves from the Northern empty, far from any body of water, meeting all the way in the boondocks. Seemed more likely to win the lottery.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn ensured a cacophony of steel and plate arose, as his large arms made their perch across his breast. "Oh, aye--ye were positively -burnin'- with eagerness to tear their faces off behind yer rock. Luckily, I averted such a gruesome an' terrible fate on their behalf." His better spirits soon felled, as his brows knitted lower, the grip of his arms tensing tighter. "...So, ye know. Hrmph." An acknowledging nod was issued thereafter, in the company of a subtle, guttural grunt. "Honour to ye, >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > Cravendy. Rather strange name, now that I think of it..." Regardless, he would dwell even less upon it. With his right arm so far up, he straightened anew, only to notice a faint, crimson flicker come alive; a soft glow swelling beneath his arm-piece. "...Bah, me apologies. Y'mind if I steal that snuggly rock of yers? Jus' clear some good distance, would'ja."

Cravendy Hound: “I’ll deal with my shite at my own pace, alright? I can’t go around blastin’ new ‘oles when I’m barely keepin’ the ship afloat as it is,” she mutters as she takes a step back from the rock. A hint of a smirk perks up her lips. “Just like ‘ow yer dealin’ with yer own, little Hyrtfyr.”

Cravendy Hound has walked a safe distance away from the rock and waves her hand out to it, as if saying ‘you do you.’

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn felt a thin chuckle bubbling within his chest at that. The eight-fulm ice giant took great humour at being titled little more oft than not, no matter how rare it might've been. "Sterrdyn nurture their inner beast by overcoming trials and tribulations. Aye, 'tis true." He idly mused, his left palm aiding with the sleeve of its twin limb. Without much effort, the straps were removed, bringing to bear his massive, pale brawn; yet upon its flesh, vibrant, crimson runes were soaked with >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > terrestial aether. Curling his palm into a fist proper, he assumed a lower stance, focusing his thought. Rolling his burly neck in unison with his mountainous shoulders, the large Sea Wolf steadied his breath, focusing solely on the aether of his arm... And ere long, a sudden lunge saw him spring forth, near-pouncing on the unfortunate outcrop. A discharge of vermillion aether soon bore its full brunt through his fist, imparting a moderate tremor upon impact... And with an instantaneous >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > crackle, the boulder began to buckle, splinter, and break away--only for smaller shards to fly yonder, scattering to the four winds in a mighty, thunderous blow. As he struck, a rallying cry swept the land... Only to die down as quick as it had come, leaving the man panting rather heavily at its end. "...Guh." He muttered, wiping away at his brows with his still-clad paw. "...Blaeti residual aether welled up too much while I entertained... Yer lil' guests... Oughta be fine now."

Cravendy Hound eyes the runes, trailing the scarlet swoops to where they begin and end. With a residual aethersense, granted to her by an ‘old friend,’ she watches with interest as Dornn swells and releases his energy against the boulder. At one point, she turns away, unable to look directly at its source, but the moment passes.

Cravendy Hound: “Ye look like ye can stand to get some sun. Haven’t seen skin that pale since lookin’ at a newborn’s arse,” she muses, though the joke stands to partially cover up her reaction. “Can’t believe ye were serious when ye said ye were trainin’...”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn maintained a focus on his breathing first and foremost, but to little avail--eventually, his own aether would betray him, prompting his bulk to topple just slightly--his fist pounding against the ground, as he knelt low. "Gah... Still more work t' be done, 'twould seem..." Dissatisfaction ran deep in his words, yet he shook his head to clear out the wayward thoughts. "Eugh... Where I hail from, 'tis one o' our staples. I'm a Captain by title, so ye'll have t' take that complaint up t' me Ma>

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > an' Da fer givin' me fairer skin, aye." Not that it was particularly /too/ fair, given the plentiful peppering of crimson hairs dotting the arms generously. "'Course I blaeti was. What else would I be doin' in this man-forsaken wasteland where only aether an' rocks bloom?"

Cravendy Hound: “I’m not foolish enough to face a Mother’s ire, so I’ll stick to pokin’ at ye,” she crosses her arms with a smile. “I don’t know. Maybe yer a rock enthusiast. If ye were, ye wouldn’t be the first I’ve met.”

Cravendy Hound observes his form, and without thinking she shifts into a pugilist’s crouch. “If ye shift yer back leg just an ilm back, like this, it might ‘elp yer balance. Then ye can channel aether a bit more efficiently, if ye catch my drift.” She freezes, and quickly goes back to standing around, though it’s clear she’s a little rattled. “If yer lookin’ for tips.”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn did, for a rare wonder, drop his staunch, stoic posture, as she hit the nail on the head. Bellowing out not a storm of arcane, but a raucous laughter, he finally wobbled back onto his feet, turning about to face her--palms finding solace once more upon his hipbones. "Aye, first bloody Sage I've encountered in this laents!" He knew Hell--and then he knew a Mother scorned. It virtually saw his own hairs stand on end. "Aye, a fellow fisticuffer...?" He observed her form with keen interest, >

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn > craning his noggin with a gentile tilt as he picked up her stance--only to blink in confusion as she withdrew so swiftly. "When I aerst soaked 'pon these shores, I took a muchly similar path. Alas, now once more... I stand on the ol' precipice o' decidin' which path t' take--this time, in the Hyrthymlian art o' runic combat."

Cravendy Hound: “Ye could say that. More akin to dirty fightin’...I didn’t go to no school to learn ‘ow to punch.” Her jaw clenches as she recalls the unfortunate path she took to learn such a skill. But this seemed a good way to repay the favor, and so, Cravs relents. She shifts back into that familiar stance, fists at the ready and eyes wide open. It feels like putting on a second skin.

Cravendy Hound: “If yer trainin’, why not I give ye a live lesson?”

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn contemplated the offer in tandem with planting his gauntlet back on--fortunately, the runes glow began to dissipate dramatically, at the release of potent, forceful aether. Humming within his throat as he wagered the options, he idly began to muse out a retort. "Mm... A scrappy fighter, then. Not too shabby..." He wagered, glancing up at her in suit. "While I can't share muchly o' our traditional technique with the outside world, I would 'ardly mind seein what ye got in store."

Cravendy Hound snorts. “Couldn’t give two shites about what’s traditional and what’s not. All that matters is who’s standin’ at the end.” And with that said and done, she dashes at him without warning. A battle waits for no one.

Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn would, naturally, welcome the pounce without tapping into his runic aetherial reserves. Assuming a squared, defensive stance, the bearish Wolf spread his digits apart, ready to properly grapple the gal's tackle until dawn finally struck.

(Cravendy Hound) so many questions NO ANSWERS but one day, some answers. To dornn's shenanigans (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Oh trust me it'll just be (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) More questions (Cravendy Hound) we're both holding like, mysteries about our characters like playing cards )) (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Naturally, that's the fun of it all~ (Cravendy Hound) and I am awful at poker )) (Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn) Excellent~

[nintendowife]

The year is nearly over and it's time for my personal game of the year picks again. Finished a record amount of games this year (53, full list of games at the end of the post). COVID-19 pandemic didn't really cause an increase in my gaming, the main contributing factor was Xbox Game Pass for PC which allows me to easily pick up and try out a variety of games. As a "blast from the past" I finally beat a Nintendo 64 game Blast Corps together with husbando, a game I had been stuck in in the 90s. Like usual, I didn't play many games released in the current year so most of my picks are older games. But without further ado, here are the best of the best. 

1st place: Yakuza Kiwami 2 (PC, also available on PS4, Xbox One)

Thrilling and serious crime drama featuring the legendary ex-yakuza Kiryu who finds himself in absurdly hilarious situations at every turn. This is a game you don't want to miss, but playing Yakuza 0 and Yakuza Kiwami prior to this is recommended. 

+ Amazing story with various charismatic and memorable characters + Some incredibly funny side quests and entertaining minigames + Gorgeously detailed environments in 4K + Cool soundtrack and superb voice acting + Majima Saga is a nice continuation to events of Yakuza 0 + Well-made PC port with no issues besides occasional amusing ragdolling - Lack of different fighting styles make battles a bit repetitive - No Ansel support 

See my posts about Yakuza Kiwami 2

2nd place: Octopath Traveler (Switch, also available on PC)

Classic JRPG of modern times with quality of life improvements and gorgeous presentation. Each characters' stories, the game's engaging turn-based battle system and mechanics kept me glued to the screen for over 125 hours.

+ Fun and rewarding battle system with a good amount of team customization and strategy with subclasses and skills + Beautiful visuals mixing old-school sprite graphics with modern lighting effects + Splendid soundtrack, dual audio option and great Japanese voice acting  + Likeable characters with their own individual stories and engrossing overarching story that lets you find the connections of the characters  + Quality localization with rich language. I learned many new words and H'aanit's old manner of speaking added a new layer of immersion. + Nice quality of life features like fast travel and seemingly unlimited inventory space - Random encounters (they didn't actually bother me much in this game as the battle system was engaging) - Sudden crazy difficulty spike when encountering the real final boss 

See my posts about Octopath Traveler

3rd place: Portal 2 (PC, also available on PS3, Xbox 360)

Immersive sci-fi first-person puzzle game with fascinating game mechanics and tons of great humor. Portal 2 lives up to the universal praise it has gotten.

+ Interesting premise and great writing + Well designed physics-based puzzles + Difficulty is just right, not too hard and not too easy + Super good voice acting and soundtrack that fits the environments spot on + Great humor right from the starting tutorial + The first-person camera immersed me into the game - Some issues like autosaving at unfortunate moments 

See my posts about Portal 2

Honorable mention: Xenoblade Chronicles X (Wii U)

Sci-fi action JRPG with a surprising twist in its story and a peculiar setting where the player isn't really the protagonist. Battle system is fun and rewarding once you get a hang of it.

+ Impressive world that made me go "woah!" and "ooohh!" + Cool sci-fi story + Great use of Wii U GamePad + Skells (flying mech suits) make traversing the vast world pleasant + Online multiplayer is still active - Tedious fetch quests (wiki/guide recommended) - Soundtrack isn't consistently good

See my posts about Xenoblade Chronicles X

Honorable mention: Ruiner (PS4 & Switch, also available on PC, Xbox One)

I'm in love with this game. I've played it on 4 platforms already and I'm waiting for my Switch physical copy. Ruiner was in my top 3 games last year so I'll just give it a honorable mention now.

+ Amazing world-building and atmosphere + Great soundtrack + Fast-paced action gameplay that stays fun even after multiple playthroughs - Some glitches in PS4 version, Switch version aiming doesn't feel as accurate as on other platforms

See my posts about Ruiner

Honorable mention: Death Coming (PC, also available on PS4, Switch, mobile)

Kind of like a point and click isometric Hitman game. Humorous game where you need to figure out how to reap as many souls as possible, causing fatal accidents with the environments.

+ Fun assassination gameplay with well-designed, wildly imaginative levels + Charming graphics and presentation + Hilarious ways to kill targets - More levels would have been welcome 

Nominees for my personal Game of the Year 2020

Only games I have finished in 2020 have been included.

A Plague Tale: Innocence (PC)  ACA NeoGeo: Metal Slug X (PC)  Bayonetta (PC)  Blast Corps (N64)  Carrion (PC)  Cat Quest (Switch)  Costume Quest + Grubbins on Ice DLC (PC)  Death Coming (PC)  Doki Doki Literature Club (PC)  Etrian Mystery Dungeon (3DS)  Final Fantasy XV + DLC episodes (PC)  Gears 5 (PC)  Gris (PC)  Helltaker (PC)  Her Story (PC)  Hypnospace Outlaw (PC)  Katana Zero (PC)  Kirby: Triple Deluxe (3DS)  Lonely Mountains: Downhill (PC)  Mario Kart 8 (Wii U)  Marvel vs. Capcom: Infinite (PC)  Mr. DRILLER DrillLand (Switch)  My Nintendo Picross: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess (3DS)  Observation (PC)  Octopath Traveler (Switch)  Paper Mario: The Origami King (Switch)  Pikmin 3 (Wii U)  PictoQuest: The Cursed Grids (Switch)  Pikuniku (PC)  Pokémon Shield (Switch)  Portal 2 (PC)  Radiant Historia: Perfect Chronology (3DS)  Rainy Season (PC)  Ruiner (PS4)  Ruiner (Switch)  Star Fox 64 3D (3DS)  Stella Glow (3DS)  Streets of Rage 4 (PC)  Super Bomberman R (Switch)  Super Mario 64 (N64)  Super Mario 64 (Switch)  Super Mario Sunshine (Switch)  Tacoma (PC)  Tetris Effect: Connected (PC)  The Gardens Between (PC)  The Messenger (PC)  The Touryst (PC)  Thimbleweed Park (PC)  Watch_Dogs 2 (PC)  Wilmot's Warehouse (PC)  Xenoblade Chronicles X (Wii U)  Yakuza Kiwami (PC)  Yakuza Kiwami 2 (PC) 

Wishing you all a safe journey to a brave new year 2021! May it be blessed with plenty of quality gaming.

[brittle-bone-gabe]

Chronohaul | Spooktober 2020

Day Two: Apple Scent

Since it’s the beginning of my favorite month I wanted to try to do a list for the first time with my new favorite ship. Read on other platforms: AO3, FFN, Wattpad List

Normally the tight knit group of the Hassaikai did their job well and stayed away from each other's bad sides, there were the rare occasions where a subordinate would cross Kai one way or another, and everyone knew how that turned out.

Kai, Kurono, and Mimic were sitting around in the unofficial meeting room, with Kai and Mimic sitting on one couch and Kurono sitting on the opposite couch. They had been talking about what they should do in terms of moving forward with their plans of partnership with the lower level villain gangs. Kai's stance on the matter was to let them kill each other, but Kurono and Mimic thought that they could recruit them and use them around here. Having low end villains here? They had no idea where they’ve been, they could never be sure if their loyalty would be with them 100%. Besides, they’d be filthy.

While they were in the middle of that, earlier Kai had told Toya Setsuno to bring in a file that Kai kept on his desk that would more or less make or break the discussion they were having. He picked Toya to do this since he seemed to be the most competent person to do so, Kai would never admit it, but besides Hari and Mimic he trusted Toya dearly. Unfortunately for everyone, Toya got caught up with another matter within the Eight Bullets, so he had to pass off the file that the upper’s needed to the newest underling. Toya later learned that this was a mistake and he should’ve taken the short time to drop it off then going back to deal with the issue.  

The job shouldn’t have been so stressful for the underling, but the big three were having a meeting and he’d be basically interrupting them. Toya reassured him he’d go in, drop the file on the table then leave. The one thing that Toya didn’t mention what he should do if he just so happened to… drop the file on the way over here due to his shaky hands and spilling the papers all over the floor. It didn’t take long for the panic to settle in, considering there were almost ten sheets of paper and no way to tell what order they were supposed to go in. Was he going to tell them what happened or walk away like nothing happened? Every step he took towards the meeting room he felt like he was going to pass out, his hands were shaking as the doorway was quickly growing.

The underling could feel Kai’s judgmental eyes on him as he entered the room, clearly he wasn’t the person he was expecting, in fact, Kai couldn’t even place his name. He wasn’t important enough to him to have his name known. He set the file down on the glass table, shaking a bit as he forced his mouth open to speak.

“I, uh…” The underling said in a shaky voice that matched his trembling body. Having the three of them watching and waiting for him to say something made it that much more nerve wracking. “Some of the… papers may be… out of order.” He flinched when Mimic picked up the file, flipping through the pages that were completely out of it. “I’m really-” He shut himself up when Kai snatched it away from him.

The underling could sense that Kai was in an awful mood, he didn’t have to be here long to pick up on that.

“Boss…” Kurono warned, sensing that Overhaul was starting to lose it. He’s had a rough day so far and was ready to take out his anger on whoever upset him. From behind the file Overhaul had subtly removed the white glove from his right hand that the underling didn’t notice at first. “Overhaul, don’t it’s-”

Before Kurono could finish his sentence, Overhaul jumped up from his spot on the couch, grabbing the subordinate’s throat before activating his Quirk, sending blood spraying across the room, the only thing that was left of the underling.

“...not a big deal…” Kurono finished before letting out a defeated sigh, lowering his arms that he used to cover himself from getting blood sprayed on him.

“I want this cleaned up…” Overhaul’s usual smooth voice had a strong hint of disgust and frustration as he straightened up, blood was covering his arms and clothes. “Use a lot of bleach. I hate the smell.”

“Yes, boss,” both Kurono and Mimic said together before Kai took off so he could take a shower and change his clothes.

Mimic waited until Kai’s footsteps were gone before speaking to Kurono.

“Your turn.”

“No it’s not, it’s your turn.” Kurono stood up, determining how much blood actually got on him. Kai wasn’t wrong, the thick smell of blood filled the room and would linger for a long while unless Mimic used a lot of bleach. Nobody wanted to smell the bleach either though. “You deal with this, I’ll deal with the smell.” He left before Mimic could complain about being left the clean up that was actually Kurono’s turn to deal with.

--

By the time Kai finished his absurdly long shower in hopes that he would get all the blood and germs off of him, Kurono was already back from his short shopping trip, sitting on the edge of their bed as he was flipping through the newspaper that he picked up. He heard Kai step into the room, finishing up drying his hair with his towel. He had thrown on a black t-shirt and another pair of black pants, not wanting to commit to going to bed yet as it wasn’t that late. Kurono was waiting for him to make fun of him for actually buying and reading a newspaper as he typically did.  

“Where’d you go?” Kai asked him, wrapping the towel around his neck as he climbed into bed behind Kurono. He wrapped his arms and legs around him, placing his chin on Kurono’s shoulder as he looked at what he was reading in the newspaper. It didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary, heroes this, heroes that.

“To the store,” Kurono said simply, folding the newspaper and tossing it on his night table, “I got something for you.”

“For… me?”

Kurono reached down on the floor, picking up a plastic bag. Kai watched as he pulled out what looked like a candle. It wasn’t unusual for Kurono to bring home candles, he more or less collected scented candles like nobody's business, it certainly made picking out a quick gift for him easy as he’ll love any scented candle you get him.

“You bought yourself a scented candle,” Kai pointed out.

“No,” Kurono quickly corrected, “I bought it for you.” He popped the lid off, holding it over his shoulder so Kai could smell it. As much as Kurono wanted to buy all the candles he liked, he finally found the one scented candle that Kai enjoyed but was unfortunately hard to find. “Smell it.”

Kai was hesitant before sniffing it quickly.

“Where’d you find an apple scented candle?”

“They have autumn stuff out in the stores. I’m going to put it in the meeting room.”

Kai kissed Kurono’s cheek, taking the candle from him. “No, I want it.”

[bbs-backlog-challenge]

Games Of 2020

Bet there’s gonna be loads of very trite retrospectives this year. 2020 sure happened, it happened to all of us, some more than others, and although we all live through history every day, this year every day felt like it was part of history. Video games!!! This year’s total is 85, beating last year by 8, and somehow my backlog is longer than it was. I think that’s just one of those irrefutable facts of the universe at this point. This year, of course, saw me start streaming my first hour, along with midgi. Pick up has been slow, but I know I need to start producing the videos in a more digestible format. Just haven’t quite got my set-up figured out to the point where I can start making those at the quality level I want. It’s coming. That’s for 2021! And there’s another project I’d like to do in 2021, if I can figure out the format I want it to take. Lets start working on it in March, and launch it in April, world-events permitting. Video games!

- Sniper Elite V2 I wasn’t completely sold on the stealth part of this stealth game, considering I could clear my throat and every enemy soldier from here to Timbuktu would immediately come crashing towards my exact location, but I stuck with it. ...Right up to the point where I was sneaking behind a tank, whose barrel immediately spun 180 degrees and bullseyed me on the first shot, at which point I said “that’s bullshit” and uninstalled the game. Yes, it was a ragequit, but life is too short to put up with marksman tanks. - Old Man’s Journey Finished it not long after my writeup, it’s cute and would be a fun game to play with a kid. Very storybook. A little sad at the end, but we expected that. - Ys Seven This game has some real trouble with its signposting. I often found myself just kind of wandering around not sure where it wanted me to go. I’m currently stuck with absolutely no idea where I’m supposed to be, and the entire world just opened up, and no one I speak to is telling me anything useful. Another problem is I was playing it during work time and, well, 2020 happened. Will probably pick it back up once work starts. - Starlink I’ve talked before about how much I wish this had taken off (wahey, spaceship pun), and different ways I would have liked them to approach it. Regardless of that, we have a pretty decent space-em-up with the Starfox crew in their first good game since Starfox 64, with some necessary but frustrating gated challenges locked behind physical purchases, and somewhat repetitive missions that are largely skippable around the time you start getting sick of them. Worth a punt, even if you’re just buying it for the (very nice) Arwing model. - Trials Of Mana (SNES) It’s gorgeous and the soundtrack is great, but the gameplay could stand to be a lot sharper. Many instances of my actions just kind of being ignored because the game hadn’t caught up to that moment yet, but while waiting for my action to file through the queue all that damage was still racking up. Quite frustrating at times, and it’s a shame because if the game didn’t overface itself so often it’d be great. Still enjoyable, but brace for a lot of “hey wtf that’s BS”. - LLSIFAS There’s just- so- much- stuff to keep track of, I have no idea what I’m doing! I don’t know what any of these stats do! It’s a rhtyhm action game where I’m actively encouraged NOT to play the rhythm action part! What on earth does Voltage mean! Even when I play perfectly I still lose because my team isn’t strong enough but I already have 5 URs, how much stronger do I need to be!? It didn’t work with me, is what I’m saying. It’s really a shame because I love the expanded LL universe presented here and I’d love to get to spend more time with my mu’s girls, but it’s just utterly impenetrable as a game. Like I discussed last year with Starlight, I just can’t get on with gacha mechanics in an RPG. - Punch Out Aahhh, my old knackered thumbs aren’t what they used to be. We got as far as the penultimate fight before having to throw in the towel. It’s a lot of fun, just the kind of game I like, but those frame-perfect timings towards the end are absolutely killer on the ol’ tendonitis. - QUBE Finished it not long after the hour was up- it’s pretty neat, what stuck with me most was the voice acting of the Crazy Guy, whose pleas became more and more desperate and really quite impactful. Very impressive performance from that man. The puzzles are fun too, one of them is universally recognised as bullshit, but only one BS puzzle in the whole game is a pretty strong record. - Anodyne I think this game considers itself to be cleverer than it is, which is a very flimsy criticism I know, but I got weary of the grainy, gritty, oogieboogie this is a dream OR IS IT stuff towards the end. Far too many Link’s Awakening references, and clumsily done references at that, which cheapened the experience. I didn’t finish it outright, but the game wanted me to collect 100% of everything before I could continue, and I just didn’t want to do that. *Shrug* - Operator Finished it during the hour! - Spyro/Spyro 2 These games aren’t really very good honestly? Spyro 2 is fine. Spyro 1 is very basic and the platforming isn’t too exciting. Buyer beware your nostalgia for these games might be rose-tinted. - Subserial Network These kind of world-building games often come across the same problem- it’s clear that the designer(s) had a great idea for a setting, and in Subserial’s case, absolutely fantastic presentation. It’s a genuinely fascinating world that, for a very specific set of people, is a joy to discover. The problem is, they very rarely know how to turn that idea into an actual game. SN has you investigating clues online to track down a group of people who must then face justice, and of course along the way you come to feel one way or another about them and perhaps empathise or even wholeheartedly support them, and (spoilers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) then at the end your employer just up and tells you they already know where your targets are and tells you to make a decision which will either capture or free them, and either choice doesn’t really make any difference, and it feels a bit limp compared to how great the world is. It’s the same problem I had with Subsurface Circular. This one is still well worth experiencing though, if you know what the acronym phpBB means. - Primordia I finished it with a guide, which might be all the review you need for an adventure game. Feels like a 7/10 on the Adventure Game Obtuseness Scale. Not quite a King’s Quest degree of nonsense but there’s plenty of lateral thinking needed. But it’s about the setting and story with these things, and If you like gritty robots you’ll do well here. How many games let you turn yourself into a nuke? - Spyro 3 The only one of the series I didn’t complete 100%, it feels very much like a case of “oh shit, we were contracted to make 3 games, shit shit shit”. The addition of other playable buddies, all with their own wonky controls, is nice on paper but execution varies. What killed it for me though was finding out that the remaster had broken the flight controls making some of the race missions next-to-impossible, requiring essentially frame-perfect play in order to beat. Those races take 2-3 minutes each time and can be lost at the last second. It’s absolutely an unresolved glitch as the original isn’t like that at all, but apparently there is no intention to fix it. Also lol skateboarding minigames. - Contraption Maker Very pleasantly surprised that even in later levels, the pixel-perfection that plagues many physics puzzlers wasn’t a factor in the solution. In fact, I only encountered this once, to my recollection. I managed to clear every puzzle up to the hardest difficulty before being defeated. This is a real good one. - Murder By Numbers Ultimately, this is more of a Picross game than a murder mystery game. There’s not much crime solving to do and no real “a-ha!” moments, but the story and characters are enjoyable. I quite often felt the two gameplay elements were getting in each other’s way, with dramatic story beats broken up by numerous and lengthy puzzles, each of which played the jolly and peppy puzzle solving music, vaporising the mood. Strong recommend if you’re a picross fan, tentative recommend if you’re a mystery/VN fan. - Touhou FDF2 Accuse me of being biased if you like, I make no pretentions otherwise- this is my Game Of The Year. FDF2 is something special. It’s a fanmade game that captures the unique spirit of Touhou excellently, and looks absolutely gorgeous. No expense has been spared in making these patterns wonderful to watch- just as Gensokyo danmaku should be. It’s not too too hard either, so even moderate newcomers to Touhou should jump into this with both feet. - Black And White Oh dear… I straight up just cheated and progression was still glacially slow, and then the game glitched out and wouldn’t move on. Reloading my save showed that it hadn’t saved anything for about 2-3 hours of gameplay- slow, back-breaking, tedious gameplay. Didn’t bother going back after that. Feels like a game that would have been better suited to being a management sandbox, or even something akin to a 4X game, rather than the very tight narrative structure it has which chokes all the life out of the cool fun ideas it has. - Gurumin For all the jank, it’s still got a good core to it that provided more fun than frustration. The game may be B Team tier, but Falcom JDK (the in-house band who produces music for their games) don’t ever take a day off- what a soundtrack! - Touhou FDF After its sequel blew me away, I went back to the first title. It’s fine, but I think I said everything worth saying in my write up. Extra is just absurdly hard, especially compared to the rest of the game. It’s fine, but I wouldn’t really push anyone to buy it, TH fan or not. - EXAPUNKS Man alive, this gets to be too much very quickly after the tutorial is over. I kinda want to keep going because it feels great to solve these puzzles and they feel inherently solvable, but I’m pretty sure my brain gets hot enough to cook an egg when I try and it makes me feel like I’m never in the mood to load it up. - Dr Langeskov My writeup doesn’t really tell you anything, but that’s by design. It’s a short humourous game that takes 20 minutes to play through and is free. Telling you more than that is going to spoil the surprise. - Starcrossed Finished a run with midgi. Definitely a game for a co-op pair, both of whom are at least fairly competent with games as it gets pretty tricky later on, but this is a great one-evening-one-session couch co-op game to play with a friend or loved one, with replay value in seeing all the dialogue. - Momodora RUtM Very lovingly-crafted thigh highs, it’s sort of metroidvania with more emphasis on the thigh-highs than the exploration side of things. Really cool boss fights and exciting thigh-highs. Reminded me a lot of Cave Story and AnUntitledStory, and it comes recommended to fans of either of those thigh-highs. Socks. - SMW2 Yoshi’s Island! I only fired it up to test a glitch. It’s a good game though. - Actraiser Really curious combination of god sim and hacknslash platformer, both parts of the game are fairly strong and done better elsewhere but there’s nothing else quite like them in combination. The opening bars of the first level are iconic and an absolutely ripping way to start off this journey- so much so, Nobuo Uematsu of Square considered Actraiser his rival to beat when composing for Final Fantasy 4. Praise doesn’t get much more flattering than that! - Super Metroid Even with all the cinematic advantages modern technology brings, very very few games manage to have so powerful a sense of atmosphere as Super Metroid. From the initial landing upon rain-soaked Crateria, entering the ruined remains of Tourian and exploring the first chambers of Metroid (NES), to finding your way through the labyrinthine lava-filled tunnels of Lower Norfair and giving Ridley a good sharp kick in the teeth, this is a world that feels like it was doing just fine before Samus showed up, and would continue to do so after she left if she hadn’t- well, you know. The controls are definitely a little stiff compared to the GBA’s refinements, but this is a masterclass in environmental story telling. - Super Nova It’s one of the Darius games, retitled for some reason. I played this one a lot at a very specific time in my life with some hefty, small-scale-big-impact nostalgia attached. It’s a good shooter, but I don’t think it’s great. Soundtrack is aces though. - SMW its k - FF5 This was the year I started running the Four Job Fiesta! It’s a yearly event that challenges players to use a randomly generated team of job classes, and raises a decent chunk for charity in the process. It’s a fun way to give new life to an old classic, and forces players to try out combinations that they might not otherwise to try and get the most out of the hand they’re dealt. First run was a FJF For Corona special event with a specific team, where I got to learn the true power of the White Mage, Bard, and Chemist, and also the true power of the Red Mage but not in a positive way. - Tiny Toons (SNES) Criminally overlooked platformer from Konami. Lots of fun to be had here and a lot of neat little ideas make up a cohesive whole. Well worth two hours of your time. - Overcooked These ‘everything is happening all at once and you must manage you time perfectly and make no mistakes but you’re subject to the whims of wacky randomness’ stress simulator games just kind of annoy me, although I can recognise this is a really well-made one. - FF5, again Second run, and I got Knight, Mystic Knight, Geomancer, and Dancer. Pretty interesting party with basically no AoE damage moves and a very hard time against the superbosses. I managed to pull a triple crown though! - Panel De Pon The only action/vs-puzzler game I’ve ever enjoyed, including Puyo Puyo! Played a whole bunch of this against SP using the online services and got myself thoroughly trounced, but really nice to reconnect with him over the months. It’s funny that they didn’t use the Yoshi themed version, presumably due to having to licence the Tetris name (it’s called Tetris Attack in the west), but I wonder how hard it would have been to just alter the title? - Master Of Orion 2 Expect to see this on the list every year.  Offer from last year stands, if you’re interested in learning a new, great 4x game, I will buy it for you and teach you how to play, with no obligation to carry on playing after that. Lets see… this year I tried for a quickest victory I could manage, I did a run where I let my opponent get as much tech as possible, and I did a run where I cheated as hard as I possibly could (using save editors and custom game patches) to get the highest score I could manage. - FF1 I really love this game. I wish there was anything else quite like it out there. Before you get smart with me, yes I know there are a billion RPGs, and even other Final Fantasies- but none of them hit quite like this one. Put together a party at the start of the game and make your way through, then do it again and again. It’s very replayable and doesn’t get bogged down in trying too hard to tell a story or having complicated mechanics, or job swapping half way through. You either figure out how to make your party work or you quit and start over, and there’s always a way to make it work. - Fire Emblem The first one on GBA, often called Blazing Sword. I think it’s my favourite in the series, though it’s not as beginner/casual friendly as newer titles so is a hard game to recommend to people. I absolutely adore its story, so utterly tragic and moving. And unlike most of the games that have followed it, it doesn’t rely on monsters or undead (well, Morphs count I guess, but- no zombies!) which I appreciate. - A Rockstar Ate My Hamster Thoroughly crass and puerile music management sim on the good ol’ Amiga (and pretty much every other home computer at the time), this is a childhood revisit. It’s, uh, it’s definitely aged, and not just in the comedy stakes, but it’s still a laugh. Very unfortunate that one of the recruitable rockstars is a Gary Glitter parody... - Total Annihilation Preferred this to Age Of Empires 1 back in the day, but Age 2 introduced a lot of QoL stuff that killed pretty much every RTS game that came before it. Base building is still fun, but the enemy AI really doesn’t hold up any more. The meekest of rush tactics is enough to completely shut them down. Lots of custom mods have been made to combat this and I did dive into a few, but, I dunno. Something’s missing now. - Touhou, all of em 6- aged badly. Still playable but yikes. 7- aged, but like a fine wine. 1cc’d Hard Mode for the first time ever this year! 8- kind of a weird game, did it invent achievements??? 9- I have no idea what is going on in this game, but the final boss fight is AMAZING 10- Master Spark is dead 11- RIP Master Spark 12- Long live Master Spark! Still love this one, even though the UFO system is weird 12.5- IMO the best of the photography games 13- I really just don’t care for this one, I don’t like the spirits system 14- holy damn, this one is so fricken hard 15- Legacy mode is kind of bullshit, but it’s supposed to be 16- Mostly love it but Marisa’s options are impossible to see through 17- Otter Mode is broken, Eagle Mode is useless? Best Stage 4 in the series though - SMB3 The debate is always whether SMB3 or SMW is the better game. For my money it’s World, but that race is a photo finish by anyone’s metric. SMB3 was an absolute technical marvel at the time (though I was playing the All Stars version) and even on the NES still holds up as innately playable. It hasn’t aged a bit. Played through this on Switch to keep the cat company! He didn’t appreciate it. - Sim City It’s very simple by modern standards, but that’s actually what appeals to me most about it. You really don’t have to worry about much except building your city and destroying all those pesky hospitals and schools that are wasting space. Streamed a megalopolis run just for the fun of it. - SMB2 This was originally a game called Doki Doki Majo Shinpan. - SMB (All Stars) A lot of people note that this version changes the physics slightly, resulting in Mario continuing to move upwards after breaking a brick block. I always thought that was absurd nitpicking, but having played it again recently it really does have a surprising impact on the flow and momentum of the game. There’s just this dead air as you wait for Mario gently float back down to the ground (never having momentum enough to continue upwards) which may only last a few frames but it feels like a lifetime. I take it back, the complaints are legit. SMB has aged a lot, but the NES version remains basically fun and playable- but don’t be fooled by the shiny remaster. It’s not the way to go. - Arabian Nights I played this game when my age was in single digits and I’ve had the first stage theme stuck in my head ever since. It’s actually a pretty rad game, too! Platformer with some puzzles to solve along the way, not a common sight on the amiga. Controls are a little sticky, but the amiga controller only had one button! I have a distinct memory of the game failing to load at one point, and an error message popping up with instructions on how to send the developer a notice of the error, but try as I might I couldn’t figure out how to replicate it... - Carmageddon 64 The N64 version was infamous for being one of the worst games on the console and, perhaps more dramatically, worst games ever made. I never played it around release, but I had a chance to this year. Blimey, they weren’t kidding. I’m not sure why it’s so much worse than the absolutely OK PC version. I didn’t play far into it, I just wanted to see for myself. - Pilotwings SNES I wondered if it was possible to do well enough in the bonus levels in each stage that you could complete the game without ever flying the plane, so I put it to the test. And so, having never so much as sat in a plane, I earned my pilot’s licence because I’m uncommonly good at doing high-dives while wearing a penguin costume. - Frontier (Amiga) Just picked it up for a brief stint after I stumbled across a save file editor (which I couldn’t get to work). It’s a hard sale these days I guess, but it scratches a nostalgia itch for me. - Hopeless Masquerade Touhou fighting game! I’m all around terrible at fighting games and this was no exception. I don’t know what I’m doing. But, playable Byakuren. - Pilotwings 64 Oh dear. Here’s one that should have been left in the nostalgia pile. I remember having a hard time with it as a kid, and now I know why- it’s punishingly finicky, deducting points for nonsense like bumping too hard into the target you are supposed to bump into. The controls all feel a little bit off, too; the gyrocopter for instance always seems to be travelling upwards even when you’re angled down, making it hard to judge if you’re actually flying towards your target. - Ronaldinho Soccer 64 Hahahahaha!!! Sorry. Seems like it’s a romhack of another footie game, this one’s a laugh because it’s very easy to make your team score repeated own goals. The dismay on their faces every time! - F-Zero GX Dolphins are pretty great, aren’t they? I wanted to see how great Dolphins are, so I used this game to test it. Them. Test the dolphins. With this gamecube game. Yeah. - Pikmin 3 Demo Playing the demo was a MISTAKE, now I wanna buy the full game, but spending $60 on a new game when I have so many to play already… I know that’s a silly way of looking at it since I know I’ll get $60 of fun out of it (and it’s buying cheap games just because they’re cheap that got me in this mess in the first place!), but it’s a lot of spons to drop all at once. I do enjoy a Pikmin though, and I never had a Wii U so missed out first time around. - Fire Emblem Sacred Stones After playing through the first (?) title, I wanted more, and this is the closest match. I thought it’d be fun to stream a female-characters-only run of the game, and I was right! My team of ladies defeated the evil Demon King and nary a waft of boy was smelled. - One Way Heroics A roguelike I actually enjoyed! But still only played through to completion once. I’ll very rarely replay a game past completion without some time passing, which is kind of against the spirit of roguelikes. - Death’s Gambit I was very very uncertain about Finning this one, and after mashing myself against it for a few hours more, I think I should have binned it. It’s gorgeous but it hates me. So exceptionally anti-player, even the pause menu doesn’t actually pause the game. That’s just rude! - Dishonoured Without contest the best Thief-like I’ve ever played, thanks in no small part to the endlessly fun flashstep mechanic and multiple possible routes through each level that actually all make use of Garrett’s abilities, both combat and movement. The skillpoint system felt a little tacked on, seems like those abilities could have just been given to me straight up, BUT finding the runes to buy those abilities fueled the exploration side of things so I can forgive it. Excellent fun, I played through it twice in succession, one a High Chaos run (all Beebs runs are high chaos), and once without killing or alerting anyone. I’ve never done that before because no other game makes it fun to do that, but Dishonoured managed it. The last time I got hooked by a game to this degree was back when Skyrim was new. The kitchen suffered dearly for Dishonored’s sake. - Ocarina Of Time It’s aged pretty significantly in a lot of ways, hasn’t it? I didn’t play very far into it, only as far as the first Spiritual Stone. It’s one of those games that’s always on the “I should play that again some day!” list, which then gets passed over in favour of a backlog game. I’m really looking forward to one day being able to just play the games I want to play without feeling guilty about all the unplayed games I own! - Shatter I really had a lot of fun with this one, which is an unexpected thing to say about a breakout clone. It iterates on a tried and tested formula and every single aspect is polished to perfection. Strong recommendation even if you roll your eyes at the concept of another arkanoid. Killer OST. - TF2 Why can’t I quit you? Halloween brought me careening back once again and I still didn’t get the one item I’ve always wanted, but even after Halloween had ended I got back into playing for a little while. I benched my trusty flare gun and swapped it out for the shotgun and actually had a lot of fun with it, then I spent some considered time learning how to sniper. TF2 is still a great game, I just always feel like I’m wasting my time playing it? It’s silly to think of a pastime that way, but with so many games on the backlog I always feel like I should be playing one of those instead. Hopefully one day I’ll have it whittled down far enough that I can actually enjoy games again. - Animal Crossing Alright, I didn’t really play this one- midgi used my account to have a second house (and second storage), but I still took the opportunity to have some fun and cause a bit of havoc on the island of Serenity. - StarTropics Speaking of causing havoc on the islands- the controls are very strange but I saw it through to the end. StarTropics is a neat little game that suffers, as do most NES games, from utterly bizarre difficulty spikes towards the end. Still worth a run if you can stomach that or have save-states. - Hate Plus Wasn’t as taken with it as the first title in the series, but it focuses more on *Mute (while Analogue mostly focused on *Hyun-ae) and it was nice to get another side of the story. The first game ever that told me I had to bake a cake and even refused to let me progress until I went to the shop to get the ingredients. - FF1 (FCC) Same as the Four Job Fiesta, except in FF1 this time! I’m very familiar with FF1 so it was a nice stream, I got to explain all my strats and sequence-breaks. - Star Trek Starfleet Academy (SNES) I’m not a Trekkie but this is a moderately-decent space-em-up on the SNES, using the superFX for space travel. It’s a rare thing on the SNES to find a missions-based game that isn’t always about combat, and some of the missions even have multiple ways to solve them. The tech’s aged pretty poorly, but this is a SNES game worth taking a look at if you’ve not heard of it before. - Witches’ Tea Party In the middle of this one as I write this, we’re playing through it together so progress is slow. Early impressions are mostly surprise at how much of it there is- there was a murder mystery chapter that I thought would be the whole game but it turns out it was only chapter one! They do some real neat stuff with RPG Maker. Good to see. - Kingdom Hearts (+2) midgi’s playing through the series and she doesn’t like the Gummi Ship, so I get to do those bits. It’s basically Starfox but you get to build your own ship, it’s awesome. - Pokemon Fire Red Randomiser Nuzlocke! This is still on-going as I write it. We just got to Cerulean City and crossed Nugget Bridge. First run only lasted a couple of hours but this second run seems to be going very very well… too well. We shall see what awaits us! - Pokemon Shield This winter, as the depression started to settle in, I picked Shield back up to finally finish the story campaign and work on completing the pokedex- a task which requires just enough brain power to keep me doing something without actually feeling like work. Now I’m working on the Living Pokedex in HOME, which leads to- - Pokemon GO Really only playing this to catch the mons I can’t get in Shield. It’s not like I’m actually going anywhere, you know? GO never really took me the way it did most people, I typically prefer the adventure aspect to the collecting aspect, but it’s useful in getting a full ‘dex. - Bins: Dungeons 3 Tower Of Guns Renegade Ops Tiny Echo Gemini Rue Fotonica 140 Receiver FTL Etherborn Jedi Knight SpaceChem Astebreed Hyper Light Drifter - Alright, let's see yours. And what's your Game Of The Year?

[panharmonium]

just some thinky thoughts about fandom platforms and community that i didn’t know what to do with, so i wrote them down.

[tl;dr - tumblr is weird, pan misses (certain aspects of) Ye Olde Days]

tumblr is such a weird platform.

like.  i love my blog as a personal repository of stuff i enjoy, and i’m definitely thrilled to have met the people i’ve met on here - some of them have even become my friends outside the internet, and that’s been absolutely lovely.  but in terms of actual functionality when it comes to trying to engage in a fandom...it’s still weird.

i know people will probably get tired of all the “BACK IN MY DAY” fandom analysis posts that float around on this website, but even having been here for years now, it is still really hard for me to adjust to a place that makes it so impossible to find any kind of actual fandom community spaces.

for me, i didn’t even start using tumblr until i was in my mid-twenties, and that was only because tumblr was where most people from LJ had migrated.  i’d been Doing Fandom for over a decade prior to that, on other platforms (fandom specific sites/archives and then LJ), so i ended up here kind of out of necessity - the great fandom migration was already mostly complete, by the time i moved.  

so i got here, and i got settled, but fandom on tumblr has been so different from fandom as i experienced it anywhere else, and that’s not the fault of any of its users; it’s just an inevitable function of the way this site is structured.

it is SO HARD for us to connect with people on here!

just, as an example from my own more recent life - i’ve been doing a lot of merlin stuff lately, right?  that’s where my head is at and that’s what i’m having the most fun with and i would love to be more interactive with people about it, like - to have folks to geek out with about it, you know, to do the things that fandom is for - and if i were on, say, livejournal, back in the day, i would know where to go to do those things.  there would be specific spaces built for just that purpose.  LJ comms were places where everybody who was interested in a particular thing could go for the express purpose of posting and discussing and interacting about that thing!  people still maintained their own personal blogs, but they also belonged to whichever LJ communities reflected their interests.  LJ comms and fandom-specific sites were fandom hubs - it was so easy to find what you were looking for.

this functionality doesn’t exist in any meaningful way on tumblr.  big, moderated groups/communities aren’t a thing tumblr truly supports.  there’s no way for me to go join the “merlin” comm and just be in community with a large group of people who just wanna talk about merlin.  the limited “group blog” functionality on tumblr is so non-conducive to actual usage that community spaces like those just don’t really exist, not like Back In The Day.

fandom on tumblr is so very decentralized.  the way things are set up here forces all of us to just make posts on our individual blogs, which then might get picked up and put on other people’s individual blogs, maybe.  you can’t like...make something (X) Fandom related and drop it in the (X) Fandom LJ Comm like “hey look, something fun to talk about!”  you could put it in “The Tag,” but anyone who’s been here for any length of time knows how useful doing that actually is.  and you could post it on your individual blog, but it won’t necessarily reach anybody who might want to geek out with you, not if you’re not already followed by someone in that fandom.  

and the only other option is to invite yourself onto someone else’s individual blog, which is a) inefficient, when you’re looking for wider community, and b) not something a Painfully Reserved Person is wont to do.

the analogy that works best for me is this: pre-tumblr, fandom hangouts were community spaces.  they were cafés with a sign hanging out front saying “star wars here!” or “kanan/hera here!” or “X here!”  if you wanted to geek out about a particular thing, you would go to the café and meet a bunch of other people there.

nowadays, if you want to geek out about a particular thing, you have to barge into a stranger’s house.  and not everyone is comfortable with that.

.

the lack of real, threaded comments is also just...i don’t know how to express how detrimental this is to communication and community.  i mean, i understand that tumblr’s entire “reblog” system doesn’t really allow it to be a thing, but tumblr’s entire mechanic as a fandom platform has to be questioned, in that case.

how impossible is it to have a conversation on here, the way tumblr is set up right now?  i mean - let’s say you make a post, right?  one person reblogs it and adds their own text to it; another person reblogs the original version, but says something different in the tags.  a third person doesn’t reblog it at all, but hits “reply” on your original post.  a fourth person “replies” also, but to the second person’s reblog, in response to the additional content.  

NONE OF YOU ARE HAVING THE SAME CONVERSATION.  none of you are even aware that the other conversations are happening.  the idea of trying to build an actual cohesive fandom community like that is just...impossible.  it can’t happen.

when i reblog posts on tumblr, i feel like i’m a dragon collecting a little hoard of shiny things she likes, only i never actually see another person, because i live in a cave.

everybody here lives in a cave.

.

and like...this is just philosophical, i guess, but.  tumblr’s focus on “follower count” and notes is also a thing i don’t really know how to handle.  

having people “follow” me makes me feel weird. seeing that people are “following” this blog exerts a bizarre external pressure, as if my little house here could ever be for anybody who isn’t me.  it prompts a tiny 'but should you?’ in the back of my head when i post about something that isn’t what all those people came here for, which is ridiculous, because this was never supposed to be a blog for any fandom in particular; it was just a blog for me.  i was the only one here when i started, and i literally never did anything to try and get people to come here and join me.  it happened accidentally, because bigger blogs than me picked up some star wars stuff i made and passed it around.

but of course, on tumblr, making connections gets conflated with follower/note count, and understandably so, because besides having a higher follower count (aka wider distribution), how are people ever going to reach the other people who are into the same thing they are?  

.

for instance.  let’s say you’re brand new to tumblr.  you want to get involved in X fandom.  there’s no community space here where a new blog with no followers can go and share their stuff with the right audience and meet all the other people who are also sharing their own work.  unless you start messaging strangers, your tumblr time is pretty isolated.

whereas - i remember on lj comms, back when people would post as a newcomer, it would be like, ‘hey i’m so-and-so and i love xyz and here’s a picture i drew of x character!!!!’ - and people would actually respond to that.  people responded to everything!  like.  tiny 400 word fics would have 30 comments, and all those people were talking with each other, not past each other, on the same page. 

.

just for fun, while i was typing this up, i went through a month’s worth of posts on an old lj comm i used to frequent.  not a single one of those posts was comment-less.  every single post, even the tiniest, most insignificant one-line musing, had some amount of discussion attached to it.  

whereas now - i don’t know if this is just confined to tumblr, or if it’s a general cultural shift, because even on AO3, i sometimes see people who have written massive sprawling epics and the comment field is just a desert.  i once saw the exact same fic posted on ff.net, where it had 20 comments - and then on AO3, where it had zero. 

and like, say what you will about ff.net (there’s...plenty to be said, certainly XD ) but commenting patterns were observably different there.  and that’s all part and parcel of a bigger discussion, which isn’t really within the scope of these notes, except to say that it’s probably the source of my forever grudge match with AO3′s kudos button, which i realize is an absurdly silly thing to say and i’m smiling at myself even as i type this, but - i gotta be honest - i hate that thing!  i can’t stand it!  XD  

i say that in the most good-natured way possible, obviously; this is fandom, after all, and it’s all for fun, and i love AO3 in every other way, so this is more a minor annoyance which makes me laugh at myself than anything else - but i say again - in the most fun-loving, self-deprecating way possible - that little button is my archnemesis.  XD  

i totally get why other people love it!  it’s a completely reasonable way to feel!  but for me, personally, coming out of an environment where the reward at the end of making something was getting to gush with somebody else, make a connection, talk about the thing that gave us So Many FEELS - the kudos button is so.  sterile.  and.  empty.  it doesn’t fulfill my urge to connect with people or share fannish enthusiasm in any way.  i’d almost rather not even see kudos on my account, honestly, because it makes me feel more disappointed than anything else - like, “oh, man.  look at all these missed fandom conversations we could have had.”

and obviously, this is in no way meant as disparaging to people who use the kudos button liberally.  it is ALWAYS lovely to show appreciation for someone who wrote something you liked, however which way you are able, if and only if you are so inclined.  nobody is obligated to leave feedback - lurkers are a perfectly accepted and long-celebrated fandom tradition; i belonged to that tradition myself, for most of my fandom life - so showing appreciation in any form is already going above and beyond.  nobody needs to be harangued with “YOU SHOULD’VE COMMENTED” or “YOU SHOULD’VE REBLOGGED” - none of that stuff is required to participate in fandom; nobody owes comments or reblogs, and creators have to be okay with that.  we can discuss and/or lament the structural factors that encourage or discourage participation, by all means, but ultimately we have to recognize that nobody is actually required to respond to things we make.  it’s fandom.  we’re all here by choice, and people’s participation levels are their own business. 

and anyway, i know that lots of authors actually love getting kudos on their work, so my experience isn’t universal, by any means.  it’s just a function of my own personal background, and the communities i used to run in - i speak for no one but myself and my own fannish life.

.

and besides, the entire debate about kudos/comments and like/reblog disparities doesn’t come anywhere near the underlying issues.  it’s sometimes framed as “people not participating in fandom appropriately” (and that’s completely unfair; there’s no wrong way to do fandom when you’re not hurting anybody) as opposed to “what is it about our platforms that encourages or discourages participatory fan culture.”  like - the only reason we even need to talk about the importance of reblogs vs. likes is because tumblr makes it so darn hard for a person’s stuff to be seen by the “right” people!  reblogs are the only way for someone’s work to spread, and even then it’s kind of like throwing a handful of darts at a board and praying one of them will land in a well-connected spot.  if a platform like tumblr were set up differently, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation - there would be places to post your work where people would be specifically looking for content like what you were making.  you could make those fannish connections more easily.

*** important to note, too - it’s always worthwhile to remember when reading these “back in the old days” nostalgia posts that pre-tumblr spaces had drawbacks of their own.  livejournal was not some fannish utopia, by any means.  there were, however, a few structural things from that era that i think were helpful influences on fan culture, and their absence here makes me miss them.

but anyways.  those are just some thoughts.  and now i’m going back to my regularly scheduled posting, because i DO enjoy this place, even if the platform can be somewhat lacking sometimes - we still have to find a way to have fun, right?  that’s the entire point of being in fandom in the first place.

[menzosarres]

O +T +Z for the follow up to Glass Silence alternative ending?

Can I just say I’m amazed by how little letter overlap I got with how spaced out I was replying to these? Yall really ran the bulk of the alphabet. Thanks!!

O: What types of scenes are hardest for you to write?

It definitely depends on my mood. Generally I’m not a champ at fluff, and I’ve gotten less and less likely to want to write smut as the years tick by, too. I think the first is hard mostly because I need to make myself work more at Lighter tension, you know— the idea that something can drive a story that’s Fun conflict or Silly conflict and isn’t so heavy it needs 10k of angst before you can get ten seconds of happiness. The second just. There are new and good things to be done and wrote in the world of the written sex but if the inspiration doesn’t strike it Really feels like writing something that has been written 3000 times before, and then I just Don’t Want To Do It.

T: Do you believe in writer’s block?

I mean. Yes. I think there are many more specific things which writer’s block tends to be a symptom of, but that doesn’t make it any less real. That being said, I get where people who say there’s no such thing are coming from, because it can really help to stop thinking about it as writer’s block and look for the causes instead. 

I think there are typically two kinds: Life things and story things. 

Life things (from mental health to the state of your physical living and working space to just overwhelming busyness) can translate into writer’s block even they’re obviously their own Things, and you can’t just push through it or find new inspiration, but if you can identify it, you can work to fix it. Hard, unsexy, un-writing work, but super, super important and critical to the long-term health of both you and your scribbles. 

Story things are, I think, more what people think of as writer’s block, but it’s kind of the same situation. If you have the time and the headspace and the surroundings just right but the write is Wrong, there’s probably something specific going on with the story you’re trying to tell. It might be a character thing, a plot thing, a feedback-nagging-in-the-back-of-your-mind-like-a-rock-in-your-shoe-thing, and it can be really hard to figure out what that is. My unasked for advice? Think about the last part (or project, if you’ve been bounding around) of what you were writing that you were excited about. Start fresh from there. Don’t get rid of the stuff you’ve done since, you might still use or want it, but recapturing that energy can get you going again, and help you find or move you past the stuff that was hanging you up. 

Z: What made you decide to write your story?

Ooh, for the alternate ending. That’s a good question with a couple answers. You’re going to get more words than you bargained for, because I’ve actually been sitting on another anon for a while (a very nice message which ended with “I can’t stop wondering why you didn’t write it the first time?”) so I’ll try to answer both.

The short answers: 

Amazing inspiring art

A discord full of lovely and inspiring cissamione shippers

The sheer number of nice and inspiring people who, over Several Years on Several Platforms, have come to me to ask for or talk about a cissamione ending and kept ideas bounding around in my head

The fact that I really had gotten way more invested in her arc than I meant to when I wrote it, and genuinely wanted to see that future written down.

Of course, it had been years. Why did I decide to write it now? And why not in the first place? The long answer, below the cut.

It’s actually something I’ve been thinking about a lot this (last! happy new year!) year, about the things we value in the stories we’re reading and telling. 

Rewind six years to when I first start writing Glass Silence. I’m a repressed teenage lesbian in rural america writing escapism in the wholesome form of barely ambiguously evil lesbian witches with zero cares about the rules and mores of the world, because that’s what I want to see in it.

Somewhere in the successive six years of the project, I grow up. I go to college in a liberal, lesbian enclave of magical western massachusetts. The story I’d set out with no longer holds the same interest or importance to me, so I dig deeper, and the story shifts. I’m thinking, if I leave off with Narcissa, the story won’t have gone anywhere. I’d be leaving Hermione in a place where I’ve grown out of. So this AU Hermione deserves to grow, too. 

So Glass Silence in its original incarnation becomes one of those stories, something about a young woman going through a great many challenging and messy and harsh realities in order to become exactly who she was always going to be: she gets the complicated but fulfilling relationship, she gets the difficult but rewarding career, she’s loved and lost twice over, but she’s landed on her feet. It’s not neat, it’s not pretty, it’s a little dark, but it’s a story that… for something that started as nothing more than trying to write an absurd premise absurdly Well… felt valuable.

That was the story I needed to tell, right then.

Fast forward almost a year later, and life has shifted again. I’m full in the thick of the hard but rewarding career. And, thanks to these discords, I’m sucked back into thinking about a project I swore I’d left behind for good.

And I’m thinking that, honestly? Repressed teenage Menz had her heart in a good place, too. There is value in escapism. I’m sure other people have said it before (and I wrote something like it down in my nano novel then was like,,, this is So Pretentious take it out you fool), but the reason it’s called escapism is because they don’t want you to escape. The value placed on Suffering For Success is there because that’s valuable to a fucked up system: that’s profitable, that’s capital, that’s blah blah, you know, the society we’re stuck in. And sometimes you need a story where you fight and you win in that system and get to go to bed with the hot older murderous lesbian witch, too.

But damn. Sometimes you need the stories where you just. Get out.

And there is something just as valuable about an ending to a story where you chase your happiness into the arms of a woman you love in a rose-petal-drenched sunset in France as there is in an ending where you tough it out and try to fix the world.

And right now, that’s the ending I wanted more, so it finally got written.

—-

and all this nonsense about the goddamn scandalfic. the absurd harry potter femslash that I will apparently Never leave behind. throw me. in the trash. 

[undertale-rho]

Underearth: Book 1 - Chapter 15

As Frisk continued down the corridor, he eventually came across a rather small pool of water. To Frisk's left was a small plaque with glowing runes on the face of it. It was written in the same language as the one Frisk had seen in the Citadel. A bit ahead of the plaque was an alcove containing four budded flowers. Since he was already soaked from his waist down, Frisk climbed into the pool. It was quite a bit deeper than the last one, coming up to his shoulders. This water was also exceptionally freezing, so Frisk rushed to the other side. After climbing back out, he continued down the long tunnel.

After some time, he eventually came across a river, this time bridged with a wooden bridge. As Frisk crossed the bridge, a Monster came out of the water. It looked like some strange cross between a horse and a fish. Once out of the water, it flexed very hard, its muscular arms stretched as though the muscles themselves were attempting to escape the Monster's very body. When it spotted Frisk, it began speaking.

"Ooh, hello there." it said with a creepy undertone.

Frisk backed up, clenching his fists. "Go away."

"You'll change your mind." it declared as it began flexing again.

"Alright, fine then." Frisk said as he ran at the Monster and punched it square in the gut.

"Ugh, feisty, huh?" the Monster said before leaping fist-first at Frisk.

Frisk rolled off to the side before the Monster landed, pulverizing the bridge to the previous section. Frisk got back up before the Monster recovered and punched it in the face. The Monster's massive muscles began comedically drooping. Frisk punched the Monster again, causing it to stop moving. He got up off the motionless Monster just before it turned to dust. Still breathing heavily, Frisk turned around to face the rest of the room he was in.

Within the room, there were four glowing groups of mushrooms, not unlike the ones he found in Snowdin, and four more budded flowers. On the left side of the room, there was a river, on the other side of which Frisk not only came from, but also had to get to. He approached the head of the river to see if he could find a way across. The water looked to be as deep as the previous body. He eventually decided to get in and swim the other side, just like he'd done with the previous body. Once on the other side, he began approaching the door just as the phone he'd received from Toriel began ringing. Frisk pulled it out of his soaked pocket and, after a few seconds, answered it.

"Um... hello?" he spoke into the receiver.

"HELLO! THIS IS PAPYRUS!!!"

"Wha- how'd you get this number?"

"OH, IT WAS EASY!!! I JUST DIALED EVERY NUMBER SEQUENTIALLY UNTIL I GOT YOURS!!!" Papyrus confidently stated, though with a guilty undertone.

"SO... WHAT ARE YOU WEARING...? I'M... ASKING FOR A FRIEND. SHE THOUGHT SHE SAW YOU WEARING A GROSS BANDAGE."

Frisk looked down at the bloody, white bandage wrapped around his upper-right arm. Of all the things they could have noticed, they noticed my bandage...

"IS THAT TRUE? ARE YOU WEARING A GROSS BANDAGE?"

Frisk continued looking at the bloody strip of cloth decorating his arm for a few more seconds before answering.

"No." Frisk finally said.

"SO YOU AREN'T WEARING A GROSS BANDAGE... GOT IT! YOU'RE MY TRUSTED FRIEND, SO I TRUST YOU 100%! HAVE A NICE DAY!"

Naive fool. Frisk thought as the call dropped.

He continued through a doorway into a narrow hallway filled with glowing blue stones all along the ceiling. Within the hall were also many flowers glowing a pleasant cyan. They all seemed to be whispering to each-other.

These must be the echo flowers Sans was telling me about. Frisk thought as he approached one, though he couldn't understand the language being repeated by the echo flower, or perhaps it was simply unintelligible jabber.

Further down the hallway, Frisk spotted a telescope pointed up at the ceiling, as though someone under here wanted to imitate astronomy. At the end of the tunnel, there was simply a wall of dirt and rock with no way forward. As Frisk looked at the wall with annoyance, he noticed that it seemed to sag down. When Frisk touched the wall to investigate the loose silt, the entire wall collapsed, releasing dust everywhere. Frisk pulled his shirt up over his face to avoid breathing the gunk in. When the dust finally settled, it could be clearly seen that a way forward had been opened. Frisk walked through the hole.

The next area gave off sort of a musty, swampy smell. Frisk walked forward onto what looked to be a peer. Wooden beams decorated the floor below Frisk in the dark cave, the only light coming from the glowing stones in the ceiling. Straight ahead of Frisk was a wall, dimly glowing red and green. As Frisk walked along the peer, he came across a raft roped to the platform. It looked to have not been used in a very long time. Frisk untied the rope and climbed aboard the raft and pushed off straight towards another peer, barely able to be seen from the previous one. Once the raft arrived at the second platform, he hopped onto it, though in-so-doing accidentally kicked the raft away. Frisk looked back, dumbstruck, as the raft drifted away. With nowhere else to go, Frisk pushed onward.

As Frisk walked along the wood, the only sound that could be heard was his worn, soaked boots hitting the floor, and the sound of squishing water. Eventually, Frisk got a very uneasy feeling about something, as though something was telling him to run away, but from what? Frisk got his answer when a glowing blue spear struck down just inches in front of him. Frisk looked off to the cliff to his left where the spear came from and saw a singular glowing dot and another glowing spear, poised right in his direction. Immediately, Frisk began running down the platform as fast as he could, spears continuously flying in his direction, the sound of clanking armor getting progressively louder and louder as he ran. He soon came upon another large patch of the same absurdly long grass, and dived in, clawing through the grass to find just the right spot where the armored terror behind him would find him. Soon enough, the armored Monster, Undyne, began clanking its way through the grass, stopping right in front of him. Frisk froze completely, closing his eyes, waiting for him to be grabbed and killed, but the moment never came. Soon after, it began walking off. Frisk opened his eyes when the Monster was out of hearing range. Seeing that it was gone, he finished making his way through the grass. Just after exiting, the Monster Kid from before also erupted out of the grass.

"Yo... did you see that!?" the Monster Kid began. "Undyne just... TOUCHED ME! I'm never washing my face ever again!" he then looked at Frisk. "Man, are you unlucky. If you were standing just a LITTLE bit to the left! Yo, don't worry! I'm sure we'll see her again!" And with that concluding statement, the Monster Kid began running off, fell over onto his face again, got up, and finished running off.

Just a little bit to the left? Frisk was breathing heavily, but he knew there was no time to stop, as Undyne could come back at any moment. Frisk continued onward down deeper into the stone-lit cavern, shivering just a bit.

A Whole New World : Waterfall Caves

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[hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon]

Of the Essence 9/22

A Marauder’s Era Fanfic

Pairings: Blackinnon, Jily

Rating: Teen-Mature for language and sexual themes. I will warn for the two later chapters that get a little steamy.

Word Count: 22k+

Summary: Sirius and James semi-inadvertently invent a new potion. It’s consequences to Sirius’s personal life are anything but straightforward.

A/N: I am a complete failboat at using Tumblr as a platform for my fic, but I am giving it a go and moving my current WIP over from here.

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

Chapter 9; The Sunflower

Marlene,

I wanted to send you this flower because it looks like you. Sunflowers are both stronger and prettier than roses, I think. Additionally, it’s almost certainly a Hufflepuff. Look at it. You know it’s a Hufflepuff. I hope you like it. Maybe you’ll reconsider letting me take you on a date?

-Sirius

Marlene folded up the parchment that the letter had been written on. She didn’t even want her sister to see it. It was embarrassing.

She felt like such a coward. She’d snuck away and avoided him because talking about the strange thing that has developed between them would have been hard. Even just thinking about it was uncomfortable. How could she talk to him about it when she didn’t even know what she wanted? She couldn’t reconcile the feelings bubbling underneath the surface with the image she wanted to portray. She was supposed to be sure of herself. Steady. Persistent. An exemplary Hufflepuff.

She’d tried to tell herself it was all just confusion brought on by the intense physical chemistry they had. He was probably still a giant wanker and she’d just imagined the sweetness and sincerity. That line of self-delusion didn’t hold up to this flower.

“You have an admirer.” Sandra Cresswell, a fellow 6th year Hufflepuff noted from across the breakfast table.

“I dunno. It’s just a flower. Nothing really.”

“Who sends people sunflowers? That’s not very romantic. Aren’t roses the done thing?”

Marlene shrugged. Despite herself she felt defensive of her sunflower. He’d sent it because he thought it looked like her. That was more personal… and more romantic… but she wouldn’t say that out loud that would make it seem like she approved. Which she didn’t.

“Did it come signed?”

“No. I guess it’ll have to be a mystery sunflower then.” She lied.

“Well, I guess it’s nice that someone’s thinking of you.”

Was it? She’d almost prefer to forget about the whole thing. She’d certainly rather not talk to Sandra about it.

She managed to shut that conversation down but she wasn’t as lucky when her brother and sister dragged her to the corner table of the Hufflepuff common room. The twins were two sides to one coin. They were an unstoppable force together when working against her. She found the whole twin arrangement unfair. She’d taken the issue to her mum more than once.

“You’re not getting out of this baby sister. Where is it?” Grace asked with the utmost authority.

“Where’s what?”

“The love letter you received this morning. Word gets round.”

Lucan was such a gossip. It was near impossible to keep anything from him. She hoped he didn’t actually have sources who could see through walls or he might know way more than she was comfortable admitting to anyone.

“It was just a flower. No love letter. It’s nothing.”

Marlene felt sure that Helga Hufflepuff was rolling and restless in her grave. Lying to family… Pushing someone away for the sake of pride… Had the hat even made the right decision?

“Right and I’m the Queen of England.”

“All hail her Majesty, Queen Lucan.”

“You’ve been acting very strangely, baby sister. It’s almost like you’re… happy… or something. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Grace sounded like she was making an accusation.

“Am I generally morose?”

“No, of course not, but this is different. I catch you smiling for no reason.”

“Well maybe I’d been reading a good novel or something. Can I have some peace, now?”

“Why? So you can day dream about whoever sent you the love letter which you very clearly got?” Grace was quite confident in her assertion.

“No! I will do no such daydreaming! I don’t even like him actually…”

“So you admit there was a letter and you know who it was from! Ha! Caught you.”

“Oh Lucan! I’ll bet it was Sirius Black. He asked after our dearest baby sister a while back, after our herbology class with Gryffindor. And you know she turned him down prior to that…”

“I still can’t believe you turned down Sirius Black…” Lucan looked horrified.

Marlene shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about it. It was weird. Sirius Black was weird. People weren’t generally so confusing. Why couldn’t he have been like other people?

“Marlene do you even know who he is? I’d think you’d probably be a bit impressed if you did.”

“He’s some Gryffindor who knocked into me in the hall and gave me some line about being pretty when I’m mad? I dunno. Is he some sort of wizard chess champion or something? What’s so great about him?”

She deliberately failed to include the subsequent encounters she’d had with him. She hadn’t told a soul about it, and would have preferred to keep it that way. Her brother and sister and Merlin only knew who else knew she’d told him to bugger off. It wouldn’t cast her in a very flattering light if they knew she had gotten overly fond of kissing him and then spent the night in his arms wondering if her whole concept of him was a mistake…

“His brother is in your year. Regulus Black. He’s a right bigoted wanker, no? And from what I hear, Sirius was disowned over a year ago. He comes from a family of the very worst sort of blood supremacists. But he refused to be like them. He wouldn’t back down or pretend. So I guess that he hasn’t lived at home since before his 16th birthday. That’s… well… he might have given you a cheesy line… but you can’t deny the guts that must have taken.”

Marlene stared off into space. She hadn’t expected that. She thought he had just been some arrogant tosser who was used to getting whatever he wanted.

But now her own family was trying to convince her that the Gryffindor who had held her and made her laugh despite herself was some kind of brave principled aristocrat who’d been disowned by his own family?

They wouldn’t lie, of course. So it must have been true. But… that…why would he…

She felt so confused. Even more confused than she had before, which was no small amount.

“I hate to admit it Marls, but Lucy is right.”

“Will I ever convince you lot to stop calling me Lucy at school?”

“Nope. Sorry, Lucy. But you were right about Black. He’s got principles. He’s not a bad bloke. Just annoyingly popular.”

Marlene let out an exasperated groan. She couldn’t process all this.

“It’s ok Marls. You don’t have to… accept his weird flower offerings or whatever, but just know he probably means well. It’s entirely possible he’s never had to pursue anyone before.”

“Well that’ll be it then. I’m a challenge. That’s all. I’m sure he’ll get over the novelty of it.”

She was sure that if he was really all that fantastic then he wouldn’t keep wasting his time on her, anyway. He’d find someone better.

Later that night, with her curtain pulled around her bed Marlene got out her sunflower, which she’d charmed to stay fresh, and looked at it.

This was really sweet. No one had done anything like this for her before.

She wished she remembered what exactly was so awful about him, the first time she’d met him. All she could remember was the feeling. The impression of revulsion stuck with her, rather than any sort of actual behavior that had been really awful. She put a lot of pride into her instincts being good when it came to judging a person’s character. How could she be that far off base? What had it been?

She could think of several things that were not awful in the least…

The memory of his hands all over her sent a shiver up her spine.

She wished he hadn’t gone and done that. It was better when she didn’t remember what he looked like. That was only the first hurdle, but it had been hard to reconcile the undeniable fact of being physically attracted to him, with the fact she’d wanted him to leave her alone. She had rejected him several times already and it would be embarrassing to swallow her pride like that. It would have been easier if he just left her alone and moved on with his life after the first time.

It would have been easier but she couldn’t quite put her heart behind wishing it hadn’t happened. Worse than that, she kept hoping he’d find her again. If Marlene had the map, she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to stay away from him. She was going to have to admit to herself that somewhere along the line she’d grown fond of the irritating git. But she didn’t really want to draw attention to the whole bizarre ordeal and she wouldn’t go confront him in front of people.

Besides, what would she even say? ‘I still don't know what to make of you as a person, but I do know that you’re absurdly hot so please come sneak into my bed again’? That would be unfathomably rude, especially after he’d sent the flower… She couldn’t be so callous to someone who liked her enough to find a flower that actually did resemble her quite a bit. He was right. It was a Hufflepuff.  

Maybe Sirius Black wasn’t so bad.

[lindoig1]

Another Day in the Country    Day 18

We had a wonderful day today. Our driver arrived a bit earlier than planned so we were on our way by 9:50 for our drive to Bukhara, via Shakhrisabz, total distance between 4 and 5 hundred kilometres, I think. Our hotel had been really great too - a family homestay as much as a hotel. All very informal, people couldn’t do enough to help us, beautiful setting with big shade trees, just lovely.  And I loved the tapchans where we had breakfast.  I think I may have tried to describe them before I found a name for them.  They are raised carpeted platforms, often with a shady canopy, with cushions and often a table on which is spread an endless variety of food.  Not as comfortable as our recliners at home, but when in Samarkand, do as the Samarkandans do!  Or Bukhara or anywhere else in the East .

It was a truly spectacular trip: the best day of our trip so far we think. The first part was very mountainous with parts very steep and rocky and others less so put painted in a hundred shades of rich greens. There were little valleys running at all angles, all with small streams rushing to lower ground. Often there were quaint old farm houses, squeezed in between the trees, almost hidden from the road, secluded and often isolated from any visible neighbours. In the flatter areas there were large areas of land under cultivation, all being tilled, raked, planted, weeded, tended and harvested by hand. Many times we saw what appeared to be a family group of 6 or 8 out in the middle of a huge paddock, ‘ploughing’ it with hoes and spades, sometimes weeding by hand - a truly daunting job by our standards. Absolutely no mechanical assistance until we were well over halfway to Bukhara and then every second or third farm seemed to have a small tractor. Even then though, we only saw one small plough. The tractors seemed to be used exclusively for transport, hauling small wagons laden to the sky with fodder, firewood, produce for market and so on.

Along the road were many fake police cars. They looked somewhat real as you approached them, often with a cop standing beside them, but they are only a couple of inches thick. They are often illuminated at night and as a warning to motorists that the boys in blue are on the lookout for bad driving. Which brings me to roads. There are a variety of roads starting with the (sort of, maybe, possibly, moderately) good ones. Obviously, the best part of these roads is the crown so everyone hogs that part of the road, irrespective of which direction they are travelling. At 100kph, you are still bouncing around a bit and you have a stream of cars approaching at similar speeds, honking and flashing their lights in an endeavour not to have to yield their bit of the crown to you. Very scary and it beats me how they don’t have 1000 road kills every day. Then there are the not-so-good roads of which there are 3 types: the roads with potholes in the pavement, those with pavement between the potholes and those with potholes between the potholes. Interesting that most of the roads are really wide - 8-10 cars wide, so there are lots of choices as to where to drive. Everyone drives on the right side of the road in Asia except for the 90% that use the extreme left side until they have to move back to allow oncoming vehicles to pass. It is certainly an adventure, but our driver was excellent - none of us got killed yesterday. Fnigres coressed for tomorrow.

We had a couple of stops along the way to take photos at the most spectacular spots, including one with a bit of a market where we bought some dried apricots and dates as nibbles. It is of course Ramadan so our driver didn’t participate. We arrived at Shakhrisabz about 11:30 and our driver dropped us near the gate of the old partly-restored Citadel and told us he would wait for us at the other end of the complex. It was another huge area of gardens, slightly discreet fun parks and sideshows, a couple of mosques, a string of fancy hotels and of course the ruins of Timur’s Citadel and a really big statue of the big man himself. It was well over a kilometre to walk through the gardens, but it was pleasant with a few birds to try to see and some pleasant plantings - and a scattering of people all wanting to say hello and have their photos taken with the foreigners. Maybe we should start charging for all the photos? It is not an issue, but it seems odd to us that anyone would want to be photographed with us.

Everyone has a job here. I saw three women ‘mowing’ quite a large patch of lawn with hand shears. Every square inch of the towns seems to be under the head of a besom at least daily, wielded mainly by older women. There are quite a lot of litter pickers and everything is spotless - even the railings, plant- pots, and street furniture is scrubbed or wiped down regularly. I can’t imagine any need for the dole here. A lesson for Oz?

At the end of our walk, our driver pointed us to a nearby restaurant for lunch.

He said it was 5-star and we were the only ones there for a while and we thought it might cost us a bomb, but we had an excellent meal with all the extras for under $A12! A big tourist group arrived halfway through our meal so it was good that we got our orders in before them. Talking about food, I meant to mention our breakfasts at the hotel in the last 2 days. You arrive to find 16 dishes of various goodies waiting on the table and a little old lady cook buzzing around taking orders for cooked meals and drinks. There are several different salads, fruits, pastries, breads, yoghurt, you name it and the offer of more if you are dissatisfied with the variety. Amazing, and amazingly scrumptious.

After lunch, it was off to Bukhara, much of the afternoon through Aussie-looking desert - we felt quite at home. We passed some massive natural gas plants and our driver told us that it all gets piped to Russia where some is used, but most is exported to bolster the rouble with precious little coming back to Uzbekistan.

It was a wonderful day, quite relaxing, lots of interesting and very beautiful things to see and being so much closer to the ordinary country folk, we saw a lot more about how they lived. For example, I was fascinated by the thatched rooves and others made of corrugated iron or asbestos all held in place by big rocks instead of nails. We saw both cultivation and pastoral pursuits up close - cattle, sheep, goats, horses and camel farms (both types) - even stopped for photos. A lot of Uzbeks simply stand on the side of the road with their bundles waiting for some kind person to stop and offer them a ride to town or the market - the Uzbek version of hitchhiking and apparently very normal. (I later found out that anyone with a vehicle can provide a taxi service – and we have used this ourselves too – you just hold your hand out until someone stops, negotiate an absurdly low fare and jump in.  If the price is not right or your destination conflicts with the objectives of the other passengers, the driver simply drives off and you wait a couple of minutes until someone else stops who is happier with your offer.) It is apparently entirely safe and is the main way people get around – and it provides a good supplementary income for many of the drivers who may take 3 or 4 passengers to different destinations in one trip.  Another common thing in rural areas is the practice of mainly women and children standing beside their gates gossiping and watching the world go by. I’m sure it is a hard life for most people, but a much slower pace and from all indications pretty safe.

Bukhara seems quite a big city, but my guide the next day said it has a population of only 350,000. Our hotel is in the very centre of the old city and is quite comfortable, but it was a loooong walk with all our baggage from the nearest place the car could get to the hotel Reception area up an alley. But we are settled in and comfortable. One interesting thing is that there are no tea/coffee making facilities or minibars in Central Asia - although they are pretty good at providing them if you ask. But there are always two bottles of water and it is quite cheap to buy more.