#thanks to a friend conveniently showing up and teaching me how to fly and follow/hold hands with others

[angrybatart]

Secret full image of the Tinkering Chimesmith for my comic. Actually really proud of it, and kinda want to ink and color it in. I should draw the others!

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldur’s Gate Fanfiction

CHAPTER 12 - EMMY’S POINT OF VIEW

GALE AND EMMY’S BABYSHOWER

After our challenges along the way, both to Baldur’s Gate and back to Waterdeep, we finally make it back home and unfortunately have to part ways with Wyll and Karlach. I hope they find a way to visit us again soon.

“We have to head back to Avernus, but luckily we won’t have to be there much longer,” Wyll says. “After our wedding, we will be looking for a home here in Waterdeep. I won’t lie, I enjoy the scenery and architecture here. Let us know when your baby shower will be, and we will be sure to make it. Just ring up Withers.” I chuckle, sad my friends need to leave but thankful they’ll always be around.

“And you guys let us know when the wedding will be. We’d be happy to come,” Gale says. “Thank you both. For everything.” Hugs are exchanged and just like that, they’re both summoned back to the Hells to fight off creatures that wouldn’t dare to be seen here on Earth. Gale and I walk back to the tower, our hands holding one another comfortably as we walk into the evening sunset. The soft breeze and salty scent of Waterdeep brings me back a sense of comfort that I missed, even though we were only gone for roughly five days…longer than what we originally planned.

We finally make it back home, and Tara is waiting for us outside the front door. It’s as if she knew we were headed back home, or maybe she is just conveniently hanging outside. Either way, she looks thrilled that her favorite humans have made it back safely to live comfortably in her presence.

“By the moon and stars! It felt like ages since you’ve been home. I was worried sick, you hooligans! Sheesh! So,did you lovely people get the answers you were looking for?” Tara asks, flying around the living area ecstatically.

“Well, answers we weren’t exactly expecting, but news nonetheless,” Gale says. “I’m just glad it wasn’t a fatal disease or something of the sort.”

“Let me take a wild guess – you’re going to be a daddy! Just make sure I get attention too, once the little person is here. I’m not asking too much, just occasional pets and a bowl of cow’s milk every now and then. I’ll do everything to help out, though. Except the diaper changes. Those are on you, Gale. Alas, I only have paws.”

“Wait, how did you know?”

“Like I said, just a lucky guess.” She giggles and flies away into the kitchen. Gale rolls his eyes.

“Oh, for the love of… Tara.” I smile, admiring the cozy home we’re finally back in, thankful to be alive and safe in the comfort of the tower. I thought I missed adventuring, but turns out I only missed my companions. Oh, and it’s a delight to have Tara around; I don’t know how Gale did it all those months after the nautiloid crash.

“Well, my love, I am going to the library to write to my mother about the news. Would you like to join me?” I finally hear excitement in his voice about the baby, and I’m sure he’s ready to see his mother again. I smile and take his hand, then he proceeds to lead me upstairs.

“I just have a feeling our parents will show up out of the blue,” I tease. “Who knows how long they’ve been wanting grandchildren?”

“Oh, without a doubt!” We make it to the library and I sit next to him at the desk, both of us surrounded by the various books in his magic library. By magic library, I mean all the books are related to the study of magic. As we sit to write, Tara flies back upstairs with us and gets comfortable in my lap. Ah, sweet Tara.

Six months pass. Six months of horrific pregnancy symptoms, the worst one being fatigue. Six months of nesting and getting the house ready. Six months of Tara following me around everywhere to make sure I’m alright while Gale is teaching at Blackstaff. No signs of Raphael or any other devil ready to corrupt the peace that is currently my life. No more bad dreams these past few months, just several relaxing baths a day due to body pains and a constant hunger for fettuccine.

During these months, my mother came to visit, as well as Gale’s mother. We enjoyed the company of our families and it’s safe to say both sides were thrilled about a new baby being around, especially Gale’s mother. Each time she visits, she brings a new gift for the little one. My mother brings us delicious foods grown from her garden and homemade soup.

It’s here – the day of my baby shower! Gale’s mom showed up yesterday due to a schedule conflict (alright, she may have thought it was yesterday and not today, but we enjoyed seeing her regardless). Every friend except Lae’zel, Jaheira, and Minsc show up to the shower, thrilled to celebrate. Astarion tries to act like he isn’t excited, but deep down, he definitely is.

“You know, the old me would have never thought to ask this, but…may I feel your belly?” Shadowheart asks, smiling. “I used to never want kids, but the thought has crossed my mind lately.”

“You’re like my sister. The maid of honor at my wedding. Someone I love with all my heart. Of course you can touch my belly,” I tell her. She places her hand gently on the globe of life, her eyes widening as she feels the baby kick her hand. I smile back at her, admiring her love for my unborn child, and realizing how truly beautiful she is. Happiness looks good on her.

“Thank you. I got to feel…movement. It made me so happy.” Gale smiles and gains comfort in knowing we have so many supportive people here around us for the little one.

“Okay, okay, ignore what I said before,” Karlach says. “You know, when I said I wanted to wait until the creature was a little older for me to babysit. I could settle for this.” Gale gasps sarcastically.

“Are you, Karlach Cliffgate, saying you’d allow us a date night while the baby is still little and not six years old?”

“Maybe I am, Dekarios.”

“You can just call me Gale, that’s fine too.” I chuckle, releasing a sigh of relief as I enjoy the presence of our friends. The celebration, the love, the laughter… I love feeling at peace, though this pregnancy could be a little less intense.

“Don’t get too excited or you’ll burn the place down. We don’t want another ‘Mermaids’ incident,” Astarion says. Gale and I look at Astarion with puzzled expressions, then at Karlach, wondering what on Earth she did and why. I’ll be brutally honest though, it doesn’t surprise me that she would burn down an entire bar on accident.

“Wait, what happened at Mermaids?” I ask, fighting laughter. “An intoxicated Karlach, perhaps?”

“Well, back when I had that shitty engine, I may have burned the whole place to the ground. Minsc and I were having a competition on who could roar louder, and…I took it too far. The owners had no idea it was me, thank the stars. Astarion, you have nothing to worry about. I can no longer catch on fire, thanks to my new engine.”

“Wow, what a delight. Though you know me, I’m always down for some hedonistic debauchery.”

We all eat rather delicious food, reminiscing about old adventures and talking about what our futures may hold. Wyll and Karlach will soon be our new neighbors, Shadowheart and Astarion have no plans to leave Waterdeep. I look at those two and wonder if they’re secretly together, or if they’re more like siblings who happen to be roommates. I try not to stare at them both, but I really want answers here. I have to constantly tell myself to mind my own business.

Gale and I stand up for a toast. While everyone is drinking either a wine or martini, I’m over here with my delicious mocktail that tastes of peaches and a hint of raspberry. I don’t miss alcohol honestly; I’ll stick with my sweet fruity drinks that will get me ‘drunk’ just from the sugar alone.

“Thank you all for celebrating with us. You are the best friends I could ever ask for, and our little one will be surrounded by such amazing – uh, people and humanoids,” I say, giggling. “He or she will be loved beyond measure, and I’m thankful for such a great group of people.”

“On top of that, we appreciate all the gifts for our child. Being first time parents, we weren’t exactly sure what all we needed, and we are so thankful for everything you’ve given us,” Gale says, raising his glass. “To our new baby, our friends, and a good life ahead of us.”

“Cheers! If either of you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to let me know. I wish you the best for a safe delivery,” Halsin adds. If we were to ask anyone about advice on children, it would definitely be Halsin, though I’m not sure if he would have any advice on infants. With him being a three-hundred-fifty year-old elf, I don’t doubt that he does.

“Thank you, Halsin.”

As all eyes are on me while we give the toast, an overwhelming sensation courses through my body; a feeling of lightheadedness and tickling of the brain. More vertigo, but it appears to be different than what I felt before; something familiar.

Praise the Absolute.

The Absolute will always live.

Die, Die, Die!

Become one of us.

Fuck. Is this some sick joke? Surely I don’t have the tadpole in my head still, because what the Hells was that? So many voices are invading my mind, trying to fool me into something wicked. The room begins to spin more rapidly than before, and my surroundings become a blur. Some sort of psychic interference, perhaps?

“Oh, she doesn’t look so good,” Astarion says. “Emmy?” Gale touches my shoulders, but I can barely feel his hands; it’s as if my body is going completely numb.

“Baby? Are you okay?” His voice fades as I begin to collapse on the floor, and all I can hear is a voice in the distance saying “oh shit!”

After several minutes of unconsciousness, I find myself waking up to everyone in my face as I’m lying on the floor. The world isn’t spinning but my head hurts like no other. Probably because I collapsed on the wooden floor.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re okay,” Gale says, taking a deep breath. He looks as if he had just been sobbing. Astarion pats him on the back in a sincere way, to comfort him and rid him of the anxiety. I’ve never seen him act that way toward Gale before. “I thought…I thought you were dying. What happened?”

“Oh Gale,” I murmur, trying to recall what happened. My voice is weak and a little raspy as I try to speak. “I…I don’t know what happened. All I remember is that I heard these voices in my head about the Absolute, and then next thing I knew, I collapsed.” I swallow, feeling a nasty flair of acid reflux in my throat. “Could it be the– no, surely not.”

“The tadpole?” Astarion asks. “How would that be possible?”

“What else could it be?”

“Someone or something messing with your head, perhaps?”

“Do you recall anything happening when Raphael abducted you several months ago?” Wyll questions, a bewildered expression on his face like the others. He brings up a good point.“Anything at all?”

“Wait, you got abducted by that heinous devil?!” Shadowheart exclaims. I suddenly remembered she wasn’t there when it happened. Her and Astarion had left for Waterdeep before the entire ordeal occurred. Still, I should have told her.

“Yes. I’ll tell you more about that later. I’m just now having strange issues, so I doubt it has to do with anything that happened in the House of Hope. I’m alright now at least.” I do feel better, besides my unusual craving for ice water. I take a deep breath as Gale helps me up, and luckily I don’t have any waves of vertigo now. What a strange occurrence that was. I hope it was just post-trauma dissociation, but who knows anymore.

“Ah, nothing like the potential of becoming a mindflayer…again…when you’re about to have a baby. Splendid,” Astarion says sarcastically, and then proceeds to look at me with worried eyes.

Despite the spontaneous and unfortunate fainting that left everyone worried, especially my poor Gale, the baby shower ended up turning out wonderfully. The questions still remain: What the fuck happened? Is there a tadpole that I’m somehow not aware of? Do mind flayers still exist?

[twilightdruig]

help?

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

summary : “hi i’m your neighbor and while i know we’ve never spoken but you’re a single parent of two and my sister recently died leaving me to raise her infant and i have no idea what i’m doing, help?” au

warnings : swearing , mentions of character deaths , fluff , au where george lives alone with his two children in a cottage near the burrow , au where fred and cedric live.

words : 2.6k

a/n : this is my first fic so it’s probably gonna be shit (as you can probably tell i’m not good with titles either) but yeah hope you enjoy :> and i might do a little part 2 on this soon

holly l/n was loved by multiple. a sweet hufflepuff student who was favored by all the teachers and students. her sister, y/n was a scary and intimidating gryffindor who hung out in the library.

ever since the battle of hogwarts death eaters have been imprisoned in azkaban. but, that didn’t mean all harm was gone.

now here y/n l/n was, standing in the heat of the summer, her nephew connor l/n mourning the death of a family member.

the service was beautiful. a few hogwarts students came including luna lovegood and neville longbottom and professor sprout and professor flitwick decided to pay their respects. headmistress mcgonagall sent her condolences through a letter as well.

conner wasn’t old enough to go to hogwarts yet. there was no one else for holly to leave connor with. her husband, ronan died during the war, all connor’s grandparents died and the only appointed godparents were holly’s best friend cedric diggory and her sister y/n.

cedric diggory was now teaching first year flying at hogwarts and is married to cho chang.

y/n was currently doing nothing with her life. she wanted to live alone in a cottage, reading, stitching, picking apples and getting drunk on fruity cocktails. but now? she had to take care of her sister’s spoiled son.

y/n hated children more than she hated the people in her own hogwarts house. more so, she didn’t know how to take care of them.

she had to enroll her nephew in hogwarts, teach him basic life skills and other stuff like that. there goes her life goal on being that cool stoner aunt that hates love and children.

—

“shit, connor!” y/n exclaimed as her 3 year old nephew accidentally ate a ton tongue toffee made by the joke shop in diagon alley owned by the weasleys.

“sorry aunty y/n”

she was never close to the weasleys. all of them, stereotypical gryffindors, loud and chaotic and always the main characters.

the only thing she knew about them is that one of the twins live next to her. y/n didn’t know how to shrink his tongue and thought it was quite the convenience that he lives next door. he was a single dad with two daughters, maybe he could help her control her nephew and technically her adopted son, now.

she sighed. “put on your coat, we’re visiting our neighbors, ok con?” the little boy nodded in response

—

went the small cottage came into view, there were two little girls picking flowers on the front yard and a tall red-headed man on the porch watching them.

“hey! weasley!” she yelled with a small smile as she approached the small gate.

“l/n? what are you doing here?” george asked

y/n gestured to her nephew who was holding his now 3 foot long tongue. “he accidentally ate one of your products and i’m not entirely sure how to fix it”

“right, right” he laughed “come on, connor right? i’ll reverse that”

y/n felt a tug at her oversized cardigan. she looked down to see two identical ginger twins.

“hi there!” one smiled.

“hello!” y/n tried to sound as nice as possible. looking back at her teenage years she remembered laughing at kids who fell of their brooms their brooms when she’d watch first year flying. she remembered laughing at seamus finnigan when something blew up in his face. or when she’d laugh at any kid accidentally getting hurt.

“these are for you! they’re pretty just like you” the other twin exclaimed.

“i’m charlotte and she’s billie” charlotte giggled.

“how do u know our daddy?” billie asked

“oh! um, we went to school together and i live just next door” y/n replied

“do you know our uncle freddie?”

“i know all your uncles and your aunt ginny, aunt hermione and uncle harry. they were all famous when we were in school”

“wow!” they both exclaimed

george and connor came back out. “look aunty y/n! my tongue’s normal again!”

“aunty?” george questioned. “holly. she died quite recently.”

“oh! i’m so sorry. i heard about her. yeah. i believe mum sent some flowers for the service”

“yeah we received them”

“i’ll see you around?” george inquired

“yeah, yeah. and i might need some parenting advice? you knew how i was back at hogwarts”

“i am flattered, dear l/n”

“oh hush. and they get along.” she pointed to the three children running around.

“they do. and yes, i would love to help you tame that little rascal” george laughed.

“thank you, george. really.”

“i’m just next door, yeah?”

“yeah” y/n smiled “come on, connor. we’re going home. but we’ll definitely be seeing these lovely ladies soon.”

“bye pretty lady!” y/n heard two young voices call after her

“daddy, who was she?”

“is she gonna be our new mommy?”

—

george and y/n had been hanging out for the past weeks. he had given her advice on taking care of connor and how to deal with children. they also spent time talking about family and their time back at hogwarts. she was told about the attack of death eaters at one of his brothers’ wedding and how his daughters were named after his brothers bill and charlie.

a knock at y/n’s door interrupted her reading.

“oi, l/n!” she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

“weasley” she muttered.

connor recognized george’s voice and the twins’ giggles, he decided he would take matters into his own little hands. connor knew how stubborn his aunt was at the young age of seven.

“hi billie! hi charlotte! hi uncle george!” the little boy squealed.

“hey there, con!” george ruffled his hair while billie and charlotte ran over to y/n.

connor and the twins were two years apart. connor was going to hogwarts the next year. no doubt would he be trouble to professor mcgonagall but everyone knew they were always her favorites.

“aunty y/n! uncle george brought cookies!” connor yelled excitedly. y/n was never the type to bake or cook. she did try to but it always ended in almost burning the house down. she usually fed connor fruits or store bought food.

“you didn’t have to” y/n responded while taking the plastic box.

“oh yes i did” he teased “i heard you’ve been starving this poor little fellow”

“daddy didn’t bake those cookies” charlotte stated “grandma did” billie continued

“oh” she smirked at george then turned to the twins “tell your grandma i say thanks!”

“uncle george! i wanna show you something outside! the twins can come too!”

“connor, what are you gonna show them?” y/n grumbled.

“your paintings! they’re amazing” her nephew jumped.

“paintings, eh?” george smiled “okay, let’s go, champ. see those paintings of your aunt.” the two scurried outside, two redheaded girls following after.

y/n groaned and fell back into the couch, finishing her book.

—

it’s been a few days since george and the twins came with cooking to y/n and connor’s cottage. she wanted to throw connor a little surprise birthday party.

connor has loved the twins and george so much, he thinks of them as blood relatives. y/n decided to call up cedric and cho to look after connor while she’d do some errands.

the two arrived exactly on time as y/n was preparing to go out. she had on a simple cardigan and loose denim pants.

“ced! cho! hi, how are you guys?” y/n greeted as she saw her old friends apparate into the cottage.

“hi y/n!” cho greeted “hey nerd” cedric snickered.

she sent cedric a small glare before connor jumped at the two.

“uncle ceddy! aunty cho! you’re here” he shouted.

“yeah buddy! your aunt’s gonna run some errands and visit your uncle georgie?” cedric winked at y/n. she had been owling cedric about george and how he’s been helping her with connor.

“are you going out with uncle george?” connor asked, eyes twinkling.

“i don’t know, actually. i might check him out next door.”

“george weasley?” cho teased.

“yes, cho,” y/n rolled her eyes “but on that note, i have to go”

“bye, connor! behave okay?” she crouched down and squished his cheeks.

“bye, ced! cho!” her voice faded when she dashed out the door.

—

y/n passed george’s cottage to see if he actually might want to come with her and do errands.

she was standing outside the small gate, hesitating. ‘maybe he was busy’ ‘he wouldn’t want to do errands with me’ ‘maybe he would if i told him it was for connor’s birthday’ she thought. y/n didn’t know why she was overthinking her choices. the first time she was standing right outside the gate she bursted in and demanded george to fix whatever happened to her nephew. now, she was nervous. her palms were sweaty and clammy.

she pushed herself in and walked to the front porch. she knocked a few times and was met with a head of messy brown hair.

“hermione?!” she squealed

“y/n!” hermione jumped to hug her old friend.

there were overlapping voices in the background and when they pulled away she was met with multiple mops of ginger hair, a head of blonde hair and another with black hair behind hermione.

“l/n?” ginny weasley asked, quite shocked what she would be doing outside george’s door.

“oh! did i interrupt something? i am so sorry!” she said feeling a bit nervous.

“oh! you must be the dearest y/n george keeps talking about!” an old woman she thought was mrs. weasley approached her from behind her children.

“hi there!” y/n said feeling a little embarrassed she might’ve barged in on a family reunion.

“ah! l/n? i have heard of your family! muggle-borns right?” arthur weasley joined his wife.

“uh, yeah!” she pursed her lips “i am so so sorry i interrupted! i should go. tell george i’ll swing by next time”

“oh it’s absolutely alright, dear” molly reassured her.

“george! there’s a really pretty girl! get your arse out here!” fred yelled to george who was probably inside the house.

“is she here?” charlotte and billie ran to the door.

“hi girls! tell you dad i was here yeah? say i’ll come by next time” most of the weasleys came back in. she took it as her time to go on with her day.

“oi! y/n! wait up” the voice she recognized as george’s called after her.

“george, hey”

“where’r you off to?” george pointed to the small bag that was swung over her shoulder.

“errands. connor’s birthday is coming up so i thought i’d prepare something for him. first birthday without his mum, you know”

“his birthday’s coming up?” george looked as excited as a child on christmas morning.

“yeah. why?” she smiled

“you’re talking to one of the best party planners there is. you also did talk to another one of them… i think”

“fred?”

“oh yeah”

“i wanted to ask if you wanted to come but seeing as to your family is in your house… i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t available right now” she giggled.

“maybe if you went another day” he said sympathetically. george really wanted to go and prepare connor’s party with her. he treated him like his own and boy did he remind him of how fun it was to be a kid. he loved his aunt so much it was adorable.

“george. seriously, it’s okay. spend time with your family” she laughed.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see you when you get back” he waved.

—

connor’s small birthday gathering was in full swing. y/n became acquainted with george’s siblings. bill, charlie, percy (whom she was actually friends with back in hogwarts), fred, ron and ginny. hermione was a very good friend of hers and so was harry. she recognized fleur from that day in the cottage as beauxbatons triwizard champion.

connor had quite a bunch of guests for his birthday. cedric, cho, luna, neville, fred, percy, ron, harry, hermione, bill and fleur and their little victorie. of course, billie and charlotte helped george and y/n fix up the party. mr. and mrs. weasley sent a small cake for connor when they heard about y/n not knowing asingle thing about cooking.

fred offered to take care of the twins and connor while george and y/n ran off somewhere. the two found themselves near a small creek. y/n explained how the cottage was where she’d go off exploring and the only person who knew was holly. she was overjoyed when her sister got the cottage she used as a hideaway.

george was surprised when there were lights and blankets and everything. the soft sounds of running water was calming.

the two were pretty intoxicated when they sat down; stumbled onto the picnic blanket. y/n was sober enough to not spill her deepest darkest secrets. george on the other hand…

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” george mumbled next to her. y/n only snickered and blushed.

“um, can i hold your hand?” he continued, taking a look at the girl next to him.

“sure” she winked.

“you know” he started again “i actually fancied you a bit back in school”

“yeah?” she rolled over to her side “i wonder… what did you like about me?”

“i don’t even know. my heart just felt so full with you. still does, right now, holding your hand, under the stars by a stream.” he had this glint in his eye when he looks at her.

“hey,” she brushed some hair out of his face “these past few months have been great. and you’re a huge help with connor. you know i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“yeah darling,” he yawned “yeah”

“wait, george!” she sat up “no. don’t fall asleep!”

“fuck” she groaned before falling back down on the blanket.

“i think i love you” she whispered.

—

morning rolled around and they were still lying somewhere in the forest behind the cottage. some childish chatter and laughs were heard from where they were still sleeping soundly.

until, a red ant bit y/n and george’s intertwined hands. “ah shit!” y/n woke up from the bite. her yell also woke up the sleeping man next to her “what?! what happened?” he jumped.

“oh. did i wake you up?” she asked.

“no. it’s honestly no worries” he said “but i do have a killer headache”

“an ant bit me” she muttered, wanting to scratch it.

“hey, no don’t scratch! i’ve had a lot if experience with insect bites” he explained “want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“oh, ha-ha” she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“we should probably head back” he checked his watch while standing up.

—

“ah! there the lovebirds are!” fred exclaimed.

everyone was cleaning up from last night. there were children running around while chasing balloons and each other.

“yeah,” george started “we, um, fell asleep”

“sure ya did” this time ron teased the two.

“i’m gonna clean up here,” y/n offered “you guys should go home. you know, get some rest”

cedric gasped “y/n l/n! are you kicking us out?” he said in mock offense.

“technically, yeah. i doubt connor got any sleep”

“maybe we should,” fleur said with her accent “victorie was very excited for the party she is very worn out”

george snuck behind y/n “i think i love you too” he muttered under his breath. he wasn’t sure if she heard it. she did.

“i’ll see you later, y/n!” he yelled “come on, princesses, we’re going home. we’ll see connor and y/n later”

connor and the twins hugged while y/n said thank you’s to all the guests.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to ask for help.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Oldstones

Prompt: I got a prompt for you! (but no pressure if you don't wanna): The knights discover that Merlin is incredibly musically gifted but shy about it, and they try to make him see how talented he really is - aeonthedimensionalgirl

*vibes in playlists*

Read on Ao3

Warnings: it's fluff all the way down bois

Pairings: merthur, morgwen, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 2604

Merlin is allowed to keep secrets, yes, but that doesn’t stop people from wanting to find them out.

Come on, the man is literally the most conspicuous person in the castle, one doesn’t rise to that title without sparking at least half a dozen gossip trains each day. Whether it’s where he was when the King was in his private chambers with the knights standing guard, whether it’s how the speech the King hadn’t written is finished by the next morning, whether it’s how often things mysteriously show up just where they need to be…

There are rumors that he sneaks away from the castle at night. No one knows where he goes. Because it definitely isn’t the tavern.

But one doesn’t get Merlin without the host of people that surround him. Arthur, the King, of course. Gaius, the Royal Physician. Morgana, the Queen Regent, at least until her proper coronation. Gwen, who holds the ear of the servants in the castle—the real power here.

And the knights. Brothers, ’til the end. And Merlin is one of them. They couldn’t care less about the rumors flying around unless they hurt Merlin. Then, well, all bets are off. But Merlin is theirs and if there’s nothing wrong, they won’t ask questions.

That is until, of course, there is something that he really should’ve told them.

There is a negotiation with a neighboring lord about whether or not the knights will be allowed passage through his land on patrols. Arthur sends the knights and Merlin to go a broker a brief agreement with representatives before he can join them. The negotiations are long and offset by the fact that the leader keeps shooting narrow-eyed glances at Merlin.

“You sure we haven’t met before,” they ask for the fifth time, “you seem…familiar.”

“I can assure you,” he says, for the fifth time, “I would remember.”

Gwaine and Percival exchange a look. They’re making no headway, the leader is unwilling to accept anything as trade. If they don’t find something soon, the fingers itching towards swords will find their marks sooner or later.

Then Merlin sneezes.

He apologizes for interrupting the negotiations, only for the leader’s right hand to slap their knee and point accusingly at him.

“I knew it,” they crow, triumphant, “you’re the songbird!”

Merlin blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The songbird,” they repeat, standing, “you’re the one who sings in the abandoned arena.”

Well, that certainly explains where Merlin’s been sneaking off to if the way the tips of his ears turn red is anything to go off of. It certainly doesn’t help his case that a few more people run into the room, some of them children, and gasp when they realize that someone’s found the songbird.

“My apologies,” Merlin manages after a moment, the embarrassment still blooming on his cheeks, “I didn’t realize that anyone would—that I—that you could hear me.”

“But your voice is so pretty,” one of the children cries, “will you sing something for us now?”

“Oh, do the one about being happier!”

“No, no, the one about being a bad liar.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Or the one about the bright lights!”

“I’m quite partial to the ‘stay with me’ one,” another lieutenant remarks.

The knights look on, half amused, half bemused, as the requests pile up. Only when Merlin’s mortification begins to seep past his facade do they have mercy.

“That’s enough,” Elyan says gently to the children, “we don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Don’t we,” Gwaine mutters.

“Well,” Merlin says before Leon can respond, “I believe we’ve found something you want.”

The leader regards him for a moment. Their face twists as they think.

“…and how am I supposed to know that you are the pretty little songbird that’s been singing in there?” They look him up and down. “You could just be using that as a convenient excuse.”

The right-hand snorts. “No one else kriffing sneezes like that.”

Lancelot hides a snort behind a cough.

“You are correct that we cannot offer you anything material or legal in exchange for the deal,” Merlin says, still heroically fighting the blush on his cheeks, “but perhaps this will suffice instead?”

“Entertainment,” they muse, tilting their head back and forth, “a tempting offer.”

“A song for the deal?”

“Not just one song,” the leader huffs, “more.”

They glance back at the knights.

“What you’re asking of us, it’s a lot. That’s a lot of money we’re losing. Damages, labor, replanting.” They glance at the lieutenant. “How much?”

“Three thousand.”

The leader whistles. “That’s pretty steep.”

Their attention shifts back to Merlin.

“Three thousand, huh? Three hours.” They lean forward, their eyes on Merlin’s face. “That’s about how long you normally spend in that old arena. Three hours.”

Merlin nods. “When?”

The leader’s smile grows. “Tomorrow evening, little songbird, when the lord and your king can come to watch.”

They ride back to camp with the paperwork of the deal completed, Gwaine teasing poor Merlin about his habit of sneaking out to an old abandoned arena and singing. Leon watches on, not bothering to hide his smile, as Merlin’s embarrassment fills the air. At one point he shoots him a look that clearly says ‘are you not going to help me?’

The one he sends back makes it clear that this is more than enough entertainment for him.

“Alright,” Lancelot says eventually when he sees Merlin’s jaw start to wobble, the line of embarrassment to humiliation much shorter than he would like, “that’s enough, leave him be. After all, the songbird has to perform tonight, don’t make him lose his voice before he closes the deal.”

“I’ll take it,” Merlin mutters.

They do thank Merlin for agreeing to do this when they get to camp. Leon slaps him on the shoulder and congratulates him for being willing to do it.

“It’s fine,” Merlin says, shuffling a little next to the fire, “I just…wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, no,” Gwaine sighs loudly, “I also wasn’t expecting to find out that one of my oldest friends is a songbird.”

“Merlin’s your oldest friend?” Elyan snorts. “How bad are you at making friends?”

“Oi!”

“No, wait, seriously, do you have no other friends?”

“I have friends!”

“Really? Who are they?”

Merlin grins as the topic of conversation steers away from him and more toward Gwaine’s apparent inability to make friends. Well, meaningful friends. People you down pints in the tavern with don’t really count—no they don’t, Gwaine.

Of course, just because the knights are getting distracted doesn’t mean Leon is getting distracted.

“How long have you been able to sing for, Merlin,” he asks softly, too unobtrusive for the others to notice, “did your mother teach you?”

The tips of Merlin’s ears redden again. “No.”

“It’s alright, Merlin,” he says softly, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s alright.”

“It’s—it’s—“ he shifts— “it’s nothing.”

“If the lord was ready to make a deal over the promise of your voice, that’s not nothing, Merlin.” Leon frowns when Merlin just keeps shifting uncomfortably. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s alright.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Never,” he promises gently, “not if it’s worrying you this much.”

Merlin shifts a little more. “…I’m not actually that good.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s head jerks around as Leon glances over his shoulder to see Lancelot watching them. The knight nods toward the other three who are now arguing about the precise alcohol quantity of some tavern drink as he scoots closer.

“Lie,” he repeats softly, “I’ve heard you sing, Merlin, you’re incredible.”

“Did you—“ Merlin splutters— “did you follow me?”

“No,” Lancelot says, raising his hands, “but the patrols do go there from time to time.”

Merlin buries his face in his hands. How many people have heard him?

“Shh,” Lancelot says, bringing his hands away, “you’ll do great. And if you don’t, we’ll be the ones who suffer the consequences for agreeing to a ridiculous deal.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

“Because it was the first thing they suggested that wasn’t entirely unreasonable.”

“You think this is reasonable?”

“Well, yes, compared to the thirteen caskets of gold, two barrels of opals, and six cartloads of mead.”

“It will be fine, Merlin,” Leon promises, “don’t worry so much.”

Merlin is plenty worried, thank you very much, especially when Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen show up the next day to look very very confused at what the deal has turned out to be. Arthur is fully intent on teasing Merlin mercilessly about his singing only for Leon and Lancelot to shoot him a death glare. He shrugs. He can do it perfectly well afterward.

The lord meets with them, they sit in their places of honor, and Gwaine cups Merlin’s elbow as he steps onto the stage.

“Ready, songbird?”

He sighs. “Are you going to keep calling me that?”

Gwaine just grins.

Merlin looks…small on the stage, they realize, despite the fact that he looks right.

Then he begins to sing.

Gods.

Three hours feel like an eternity, collapsed into an instant. His voice lifts and soars, pouring into the air like an endless well. The happy songs send them into the stratosphere, the sad ones drop them into the planet’s core. Arthur reaches blindly for Morgana’s hand at one point and they cling to each other, there in the upper corners of the theatre.

One song reaches deep into Morgana’s chest and tugs in too many places to be unfamiliar. Wrapped up in power, unable to use it properly, cultivated as a thing, a cog in a machine, trapped. A dangerous flare in her gut, reached only by the way Merlin’s aura hides reluctant darkness, one borne on necessity and resentment.

One song pushes back against Arthur’s shields, calls out to a child. A child, too soon knighted, too soon forced into the mold of the perfect King, still raw from years and years of being overlooked, not being chosen, not being wanted. It calls out in remorse, in mourning for someone lost long ago yet could not be grieved because they’re still here, just buried under layers and layers of armor. The person they used to be.

One song hurts them both.

They’re not sure how long it’s been when Merlin stops for a moment, smiling, before he takes a moment to talk about the next song.

He says that there is a tale, an old one, about a soldier. A legendary warrior, impervious to all harm, except for one spot on his body. His heel. When his mother held him as she bathed him in power, something that would keep him safe, keep him invulnerable. What she did not realize is that her son did not have just physical weaknesses, nor that her son’s supposed invulnerability would keep people from realizing that he was a person too.

He says that the story tells of someone very important to this warrior, someone who realized that he was human, first and foremost, and that someone was taken away. Murdered. And what good was that invulnerability if he could not protect the one he loved? The warrior was only human, after all, and humans make mistakes. And they need to be reminded that’s all they are, behind all the power, all the invulnerability, they’re human.

The name of the warrior?

Achilles.

His voice has a sense of urgency now, one that they’ve only heard once before. When a squire, suddenly happy after months of being lost in their own head, climbed to the highest balcony in the castle and stood there, wobbling in the wind.

The song climbs, higher, and higher, the urgency growing, his light shining brighter and brighter.

Then the trick.

Another voice, dark and distorted, a twisted version of him, ringing out in the theater despite the fact that his mouth is closed. Gasps and shock as the audience tries to figure out what the trick is, how this is happening, too caught up in the thrill of the performance to care that it might be magic. The dark voice whispers temptation, scorns the others, tells the warrior to jump.

Morgana does not let go of Arthur and Arthur will not let go of Morgana.

The dark voice sings alongside Merlin, the theater caught in the storm of his making. The dark voice vanishes into a whisper, Merlin all but pleading the warrior to come down.

As the last verse starts, he looks directly at them.

There is no more facade, no more roles for him to play. This is Merlin, singing to them. The concert may be for the deal, this song is theirs.

Throw yourself into the unknown

With pace and a fury defiant.

Clothe yourself in beauty untold

And see life as a means to a triumph.

Today of all days, see

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above.

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it's more courageous to overcome.

When the song ends and the spell is broken, the whole theater has to take a moment to breathe.

There are more songs, more that touch different people in different ways.

“I will say this,” Morgana whispers, still blinking away tears, “I don’t see them backing out of the deal.”

Arthur can’t find the words to reply.

Too soon, Merlin announces that the next song is the last one. The theater crows in protest, Arthur and Morgana among them, despite themselves. A strange look crosses his face as he raises an eyebrow.

“No? You don’t want to leave?”

Another round of ‘no’ goes up.

“But we have to,” he says softly, his voice still ringing as if surrounded by old stone halls, “we can’t stay here, as much as we want to. We have to keep going. We can’t be the rock that the water beats away at, we’ll be worn to nothing.”

To their surprise, he sits.

“…or we’ll fade into ghosts.” He looks around. “But we’d like to stay here, for a moment longer, with the ghosts, yes?”

At the noises of agreement, he smiles. “Then let’s do a different song for the last one.”

And oh, what a song he chooses.

It’s not as vocally impressive as some of the other ones, nor does it tug on their heartstrings as painfully. But this one, more than any other song he’s sung tonight, sounds like Merlin.

A girl, dancing in the ruins of an old stone castle with the ghosts of her loved ones. Season after season, year after year, until she too became a ghost, dancing with them once again.

They can almost feel hands on their shoulders.

The song ends and the deal is complete. The leader approaches to have a quiet word with Merlin before he exits the theater and waits. The lord stumbles to Arthur and Morgana, almost in a trance, with the promise to ride behind them to Camelot to officially sign the deal the next morning. Arthur is only conscious enough to nod and murmur a reply. Morgana isn’t much better. The knights have already formed a protective huddle around Merlin as they return to camp, the little songbird all sung out.

When they get back to camp, Merlin barely has time to thank them for coming before Arthur pulls him into a hug.

“No,” he whispers, “thank you.”

[schnoogles]

pterolycus: the winged wolf written for the @jonsa-halloween event! Day 4: Monsters/Quotes Read on Ao3

“The Northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leathery wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window.” What if Sansa did have the magic to change into a wolf with big bat-like leathery wings? But set in a modern au! In this modern with magic au, there’s a secret coven of teenage witches that Sansa and Margaery are a part of, and they get into all kinds of fun ;) After knowing him for so long and dating him, Sansa has told Jon everything about her being a witch. It’s just a good time folks 😂

Present time, Monday, 8am

Sansa was gathering her books from her locker. It was a Monday morning and she was tired and exhausted but school doesn’t care about that. She had a long weekend. Did she regret it though? Absolutely not. Once she had everything she needed, she closed her locker door and flinched back in surprise. Leaning up against the other side was none other than Jon Snow.

Sansa held a hand to her heart. She was a little jumpy this morning. “Seven Hells, Jon!” 

The boy in question just smirked at her. “Hi, honey.” 

She rolled her eyes and walked past him. Jon, not ready to go to class yet, followed.

“You know, I heard the most interesting rumor earlier,” he said, casually throwing an arm over her shoulders, “Have you heard it? It was about a certain ex boyfriend of yours. Joffrey Baratheon.” Ah yes. Joffrey Baratheon. The boy and his family had moved up North just last year and Sansa was immediately smitten by his pretty words. Unfortunately for her, she found out the hard way what a complete ass he was. “Ring any bells?”

If Jon wasn’t looking so intently at her, he wouldn’t have seen the corner of Sansa’s mouth twitch. “Can’t say that I have. What rumors would that be?” 

“Apparently, after the party Saturday night, he showed up at his house at nearly five in the morning the next day and was completely incoherent. And practically naked. Started screaming like a banshee and saying things like ‘It was a flying wolf-bat!’ and ‘She turned into a monster!’ It caused such the commotion that the whole block woke up. He was spazzing so hard that-”

Sansa tsked at Jon. “You know how I feel about that word Jon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, that was ableist of me.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyways, so he was… acting really paranoid, right? Kept looking around as if something would pop up and eat him.” Jon smiled as he continued, “and he wouldn’t let Cersei bring him inside the house, insisting that they take him to the police. ‘Hello yes I would like to make a report: a monster attacked me and took my clothes!’ Can you imagine how that would go?” At this point, Jon couldn’t stop chuckling. If asked, Sansa would say that his laughter was contagious and that’s why she smiled. It’s not like she was there to see the half-naked Joffrey running off.

The night before, Sunday, 2am

Jon gave his girlfriend one more long lasting kiss. “Do you have to do it tonight?” he mumbled into her mouth. Sansa giggled.

“Yes, Jon. And it’s already the hour of the wolf, I should’ve gone back ages ago.” As she made to move out from under him, he grabbed at her waist and snuggled closer.

“Yes yes, your witching hour approaches,” Jon sighed. Then he looked at her mischievously. “One more time? Aren’t orgasms supposed to enhance your powers or something?”

At that, Sansa couldn’t help but laugh. “Stranger take me, I’m not going to be performing sex magic!”

“Oh, no?” Jon began trailing kisses down her neck, each one slower and softer than the last. “That’s too bad.”

Sansa sighed at his ministrations. “Yup. Just your standard shifting spell. And… I should… really… I should really go soon. Margie will be waiting.” Despite her words, she made no move to stop Jon’s attentions on her. In fact, she seemed to hold on to him tighter. When Jon’s mouth continued moving lower and lower, she gave in. “Maybe one more won’t hurt.”

“One more. For the road.” He started kissing and sucking in all the right places. 

Sansa huffed a laugh. “Yeah. For the road.” She started to moan, her body was being filled with a different kind of magic just then.

Three days ago, Friday, 1pm

“Sansa, Margaery is here!” Sansa opened an eye. She was hoping she just imagined her mother calling her, but she heard another shout for her name. With a groan, she blew out the candles and went to see what Margaery Tyrell wanted. Sansa had a very strange friendship with the girl. When Joffrey broke up with her last year, Sansa was secretly happy. That didn’t stop the sting that she felt when she found out Margaery started dating him a few weeks later though. But that was neither here nor there. She broke up with him for his younger, kinder brother, Tommen.

“Hey Marge,” she greeted her friend. She took one good look at the brunette’s appearance and frowned. Something was wrong. 

Margaery gave her a small smile and asked, “Hey Sans, can we talk?” Sansa nodded and gestured for her to follow up the stairs. When they walked in her bedroom, Sansa swore. She forgot to clean up. 

“Oh! Did I interrupt?” Margaery smirked at her.

 “Just some new incantations I was trying out. You know. So what’s up buttercup?”

Margaery hesitated. She wouldn’t look Sansa in the eye and kept wringing her hands, like she just realized being here was a bad idea. Despite their history, Sansa still cared for her friend. “Margie? What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Margaery sniffled, “I’m sorry I dated Joff. I know it was a shitty thing to do and I don’t think I ever properly apol-”

“Whoa, Margaery,” Sansa raised her hands, as if she were presenting herself as non threatening to the other girl. “That was ages ago. Thought we were passed that.” Sansa smiled then. “And honestly it was kind of the best thing that happened to me.”

“Yeah,” Margaery nodded, “You and Jon are so lucky to have each other.” 

Sansa tilted her head, “So are you and Tommen. Unless…?”

“No! No, we’re still very much happy. It’s just…” she trailed off, not sure how to explain. But Sansa knew what she was trying to say.

“It’s just hard when your current boyfriend is brothers with your ex?”

Margaery laughed in a self-deprecated manner, “I sure know how to pick them, right?”

“Hey. Tommen’s good for you.” With that reassurance out of the way, Sansa asked, “So that can’t be why you came here though. What happened?”

“Right. Well I ran into Joff when I was over at Tommen’s. Surprised it took so long really, it was bound to happen.”

“Damn. Did he say something?”

“He said lots of somethings,” her jaw clenched at the memory of what happened. “I believe the words ‘slut’ and ‘easy’ were in the mix.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Yeah.” Margaery scoffed, “Then he asked if I was going for Renly next seeing as Loras and I always share everything.” She looked up at Sansa. “You told me he was a monster and I didn’t listen. You’re really the only one who would understand and I needed someone to talk about this with.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Sansa raised her hand and a book came flying to it. “How bout we teach the little shit a thing or two about what real monsters look like?”

The night before, Sunday 4am

Sansa climbed through the window to Jon’s room. The one he conveniently left open for her. She thought he’d be asleep, but he wasn’t. “Oh? Back so soon already? How’d it go?” She undressed and got under the blankets and snuggled with him. 

“It went rather well if I do say so myself.” Sansa was smug. “You know how I’ve been practicing my shapeshifting?”

Jon lifted a brow in interest. “Yeah. Did you finally nail it down?”

“Nope! But it was a blessing in disguise. I couldn’t manage to concentrate properly so I ended up as a wolf with bat wings,” she laughed, “It was utterly terrifying if I’m being honest.” 

She went on to explain to Jon how they had managed to trick Joffrey into thinking he would be meeting Marge for a secret rendezvous. How Margaery had been manipulating the plants in her garden to snag at his clothes. How, because of Joff’s fear of wolves, the original plan was for her to change into one and scare him senseless. She told him how Joffrey started to get impatient and called for “the slut to come out” and how Sansa saw red. Her lack of focus caused her to briefly shift back and she panicked and tried to turn back into a wolf, only her concentration was off and she sprouted bat wings. The confusion of what she did made her freak out just a bit and so she spread her wings out and let out a ferocious growl, all the while facing Joffrey, who then wet his pants. By the end of her recap, Jon was in tears.

“Mother have mercy he peed his pants? How fucking embarrassing.”

Present time, Monday, 8am

“Hey guys,” Margaery greeted, “Wild rumors today, right?”

The three of them shared knowing looks.

“You know Sansa, I was thinking, and I’m pretty sure I figured out why you-” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “-shifted back and to a monster so fast.” Margaery straightened her back and smirked at them. When Sansa gave her a questioning look, she continued, “Did you know orgasms don’t just enhance the magic for sex rituals? They’re very good for all sorts of magics. The release of chemicals and hormones in a female, you know?” With one last knowing look, she left the two of them and continued on her way. 

“A monster, hmm?” Jon teased.

“Oh shut up. Go to class Jon.”

Before he left though, Jon leaned in and he whispered in her ear, “I think I like that idea. My girl’s a monster in the streets and I’ll be the monster in the sheets.” With a final wink, he walked away, leaving a very breathless Sansa standing in the halls. 

Oh, she’ll show him a monster in the sheets.

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 2

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because Rian is finally in these books, I can’t stop now!

Last time in book: Kylan and Naia reached Stone-in-the-Wood at the end of last book. They hiked out into the Wood of Stone-in-the-Wood to meet Rian but have to save him from a darkened creature. After that’s dealt with, Kylan decides to dreamfast with Rian to spare Naia the burden.

Chapter 2

Rian and Kylan do a dreamfast to catch each other up. Dreamfasting is such a convenient way to deliver exposition. I love it.

Dreamfasting was like diving into a pool of water without knowing its depth or what might wait below. Kylan remained at the surface at first, sensing Rian’s memories and knowing at the same time Rian could peek into his. It was often disorienting in the beginning, to dreamfast with someone for the first time. Even when they had agreed to dreamfast, there were still so many thoughts and visions, protective barriers and waves of wariness.

It just now occurred to me, because the peaks of my Dark Crystal enthusiasm haven’t coincided with the peak of my Pacific Rim enthusiasm, but Gelfling would make amazing Jaeger pilots.

Dreamfasting gets them prepared for something like the neural link and they can even practice without being in the giant robots.

Actually, they don’t even need the neural link. They just need to pilot a giant robot while holding hands. Which I, for one, would be delighted by.

I’m just saying, where’s the Pacific Rim AU where Gelflings fight giant Skeksis?

Rian starts sharing his memories including incredibly detailed layouts of the castle.

Another good use for dreamfasting? Have one person scout a location out and then share the layout. Gelfling heist story!

Ugh, I’m having so many good ideas right now!

Anyway, Rian narrates his memories noting that Gelfling were going missing in the castle one by one but that the Skeksis paid no heed. Then the Skeksis called for Mira.

Aw geez we know where this is going.

Kylan saw a flash of a Gelfling girl, all winks and tall tales. Rian walked with her, back to the castle after an evening patrolling the wood that bordered the grounds. In Rian’s hand, hidden in his uniform cloak, was a glowing bellflower. He would give it to Mira when they saw good night. He would tell her that even though they had been on duty, he had enjoyed their time together, and perhaps they could enjoy time together some other evening...

Aww, Rian’s a big ol’ romantic! A big ol’ sappy romantic!

Actually, look at this cute picture from right off the publisher’s website.

Look at Blue-Streak Rian smoothly giving Mira a flower.

The pictures in these books are so good!

Also, that description of Mira “all winks and tall tales” is really good. Well, it also reminds me of a character of my own coincidentally also called Mira. But I’m consistently impressed how much personality Mira has when she gets very little screentime. If they do more of the Age of Resistance comics, they should definitely devote an issue or more on Mira.

Anyway, the Scientist and Chamberlain tell Rian to gtfo and for Mira to come with them. Having a bad feeling about this, Rian secretly follows and witnesses Mira being drained.

Here the dreamfast actually weakens because Rian’s focus lapses due to the emotion of the memory. Good boy Kylan tells Rian that he doesn’t need to relive this but Rian insists.

So the memory plays on with Mira withering up as she’s drained. No exploding though. And in fairness, the books were started before the show came out and I guess it wasn’t decided that draining Gelflings would make them explode. We don’t see that in the movie after all! Kira’s partial draining seems to work similar to the Podling draining.

Maybe in the show-movie continuity, the Scientist eventually works out the kinks by the time they have to start draining Podlings.

Rian also sees the Scientist take a sip of Mira’s essence and become visibly revitalized.

Kylan takes over the dreamfast to share his and Naia’s side of the plot. The parts he learned in dreamfast from Naia he has to narrate because you can’t dreamfast a dreamfast. Dreamfasting is convenient but that’d be too convenient.

Kylan remembered the day Naia had come to his village, knowing that as he called up the memory, Rian would see it too. He remembered Naia’s aloof appeal, and how reluctant she had been to make friends, but Kylan had liked that about her. He had seen his own outsiderness reflected in her. It might not have meant much to her, but for Kylan, it had been the beginning of the journey that had eventually brought him here, to share in this dreamfast with Rian, and to fight against the Skeksis.

Fun insight into Kylan’s first impressions of Naia. She’s the Sal Dumbingofage of Gelfling apparently.

Last post, I mentioned that Kylan volunteered to dreamfast with Rian because otherwise he’d sit around watching someone else dreamfast and as a POV character that wouldn’t fly.

I’m freshly amused because Kylan dreamfasts to Rian his experience of sitting around and watching Naia dreamfast with a tree.

I know its an important part of what they got up to in the previous book but I’m just amazed here.

Rian asks for clarification on what happened to Gurjin and Kylan shows him the memory of the Hunter hunting them through the Dark Wood. That’s all he saw and all he can show. But I think that kind of sums it up. He got Mal’d.

The dreamfast ends there.

“Gurjin died proud as ever,” Rian said. “We won’t waste his effort. Nor Tavra’s, nor Mira’s. The Skeksis will pay for what they’ve done. I’ll see to it single-handedly if I have to.”

“You won’t. Gurjin is - was - my brother,” Naia said. “If anyone will teach the Skeksis what Gurjin’s sacrifice meant, it will be me.”

And then, not making this up, Rian and Naia get into a fight about who is going to single-handedly show the Skeksis whats what. They’re both protagonisting pretty hard here. This Is Something I Have To Do Myself.

They don’t even realize that Kylan is the protagonist today.

Mythra even mocks Rian a bit for always trying to do things on his own and asks him how that’s working out for him. Savage.

Mythra finished the peach-berry and threw the pit at her brother, who deftly avoided it.

Now that’s some premium little sister energy right there.

She tells Rian that mom Shoni wants him to come to dinner and Rian is like ‘i’m a traitor tho’

“Mother says it’s important for you to come home. She left early this morning to go digging for your favorite merkeeps. She wants to thank Naia and Kylan for believing in you. Joining us is the least you could do to show some gratitude, since you don’t seem very interesting in thanking them yourself.”

Rian flinched.

Savage. A. F.

He argues that he just doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt and advises that Naia and Kylan should try to lay low in case the Skeksis have branded them criminals as well.

Mythra snorted. She hopped down from her perch and headed up the path, back toward Stone-in-the-Wood.

“Just be home in time for supper.”

Mythra is too powerful.

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Yes I know that Nooroo is transmission and not transition but let me be salty at this show’s utter failure of symbolism okay

I also drew a lot from this post, so go and give @loosescrewslefty a lot of love for the effort they put into it! And credit for the Aztecan Miraculouses to @sparklyaxolotlstudent and I highly recommend checking their posts out.

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 | AO3 link

“I never thought I’d be glad that you go to school,” Plagg comments once Adrien’s car drives off. “Blech, your father was in a mood.”

“And I still didn’t even get to see him,” Adrien says, rolling his eyes. “I just got a five-minute disapproving stare over tablet during breakfast.”

“You know, they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,” says a cheerful voice from behind him. Adrien jumps and staggers back, only to flush when he sees that it’s just a laughing Marinette, with Alya and Nino behind her.

“Payback’s a bitch, huh?” Alya says. She fist-bumps Marinette. “Don’t mess with my girl, Agreste.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare her last week!” Adrien says as they head into the courtyard. His brain lights up like a Pavlovian firework when Marinette hands over his daily paper bag of pastries; he hasn’t gotten a box since that first day, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain when it’s free treats from a brilliant bakery. Today’s lucky dip is a chocolate croissant and a cheese bun, and he surreptitiously breaks off a chunk of the bun to save for Plagg, even though the little gremlin will no doubt complain that it’s not Camembert.

“You were saying that your dad couldn’t even show up to be disapproving, right?” Nino says. “Dude, that’s rough.”

“At least my dad tells me when I’ve fucked up in person,” Alya says, threading her fingers with Nino’s. “But then again, your dad is really extra.”

“Of course he’s extra,” Marinette says. “Have you seen what he wears? I’d get blacklisted from the fashion industry if I tried to get away with that.”

Adrien can’t help but burst out laughing at that. God, what a miracle that Marinette hasn’t actually hated him all this time, because now that she’s started to come out of her shell around him, she’s a super cool friend to have. And that’s not even counting the time he’d visited her as Chat Noir. It would be nice to know why she’d been so weird for the past year, though.

“Adrien! Hi!” Lila stops next to him, beaming. Okay, whoa, she’s way too close, and Adrien’s sure she’s nice enough despite the lies – really, as if she’s Ladybug’s best friend, his lady isn’t irresponsible enough to be friends with someone who’d broadcast it everywhere – but there’s just…something about her. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. Maybe he’s just uncomfortable because she loves to touch him in every way possible whenever she’s around him.

“Hey, Lila!” Marinette smiles, but something about it rings false. Does she also know that Lila tends to not be truthful? “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, I was supposed to have lunch with Clara Nightingale, but she had to cancel at the last moment,” Lila sighs. “She was so bummed, though!”

“But Clara’s not even in Europe right now,” Alya says with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, dude,” Nino says. “Last I heard, she was over in California. In America.”

“She was going to fly me over in her private jet!” Lila says. “I guess she’s just too busy with her upcoming album.”

Marinette, Alya, and Nino don’t look fooled at all. How does everyone else believe these lies? But they’re not really hurting anyone, so Adrien sees no point in starting a fuss. The only person who could get hurt by these lies are her, once people see through them and decide not to associate with her.

“Do you want some of this croissant?” Adrien holds the pastry out to Lila. “It’s freshly baked from Marinette’s bakery!”

“I’m still salty that he’s the only one you give pastries to,” Alya grumbles. “It’s not like I’m your best friend or anything.”

“It’s not like Adrien’s being neglected by his father or anything,” Marinette retorts. Alya groans.

“Touché. And fuck your logic.”

“That’s so sweet of you to offer!” Lila says, shooting Marinette and Alya a weird glance out of the corner of her eye. Then she leans in and, without taking it from Adrien, takes a large bite out of the end of the croissant that he had been eating and lets out an appreciative hum. “This is delicious! Your parents are so talented, Marinette!”

“Um, thank you!” Marinette says.

“Anyway,” Lila says, running her hand down Adrien’s arm. He instinctively leans away, but she follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me after school, Adrien?”

Shit. Is she asking him out on a date? Or just an outing as friends? What does he do? If he assumes it’s a date and it’s not, she’ll get offended. But if he assumes it’s not a date and it is, he’ll be leading her on and letting her think that he’s interested in her, when he’s really not. Besides, the thought of being alone with Lila is…worrying, especially if this is how she touches him around other people. Time for a convenient excuse.

“Sorry, but I really can’t,” he ends up saying. Lila steps back and stares at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable!” she says.

“My father just –”

“I understand. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have assumed – I’m awful – I understand if you don’t want to –”

“Uh, what?” Alix says from behind Lila, with Kim and Max beside her. “It’s nothing against you, Lila.”

“Yes, Adrien’s father is incredibly strict,” Max says. “There’s a ninety-nine-point nine percent chance that Mr Agreste wouldn’t allow Adrien to get ice cream with you.”

“Oh.” Lila’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I had no idea that your father was so strict!”

“Weren’t you protesting with us?” Kim says.

“Oh – yes, but I assumed his father was just angry,” Lila says. “I didn’t realise he was like that all the time! I’m so sorry, Adrien!”

“It’s fine,” Adrien says. Lila smiles at him and walks off. “Thanks, guys. I didn’t know what to do.”

“If you don’t want her to touch you, why don’t you just tell her that?” Alix says. “I mean, Chloé’s Chloé, but Lila would stop if you told her.”

“It’s alright,” Adrien says. “It’s not like I’m not used to it. People touch you all the time as a model.”

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Kim says and flexes his arms. “You wouldn’t believe how many people wanna touch all this.”

“Absolutely no one,” Alix deadpans and Kim sticks his tongue out at her. Next to Kim, Max’s eyes flick away, and Adrien’s forcibly reminded of Marinette’s words to him as Chat Noir the other day about Max and Kim.

“Kim’s right,” Marinette says. “Just because you’re a model, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to tell people not to touch you! It’s your body!”

Adrien can’t help the smile that breaks free at his friends’ words. “Thanks, guys,” he says. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to ask other people not to touch me.”

“That makes sense,” Max says. “Due to your father’s strict nature and refusal to consider your wishes, along with your modelling, the chance of his influence leading to your inability to vocalise what you want when you’re uncomfortable and therefore developing the unfortunate habit of putting up with your discomfort to make it pass faster is –”

“Alright, alright, come on,” Alix says, grabbing Max by the arm.

“But I haven’t finished my analysis!” Max protests as Alix leads him away. Kim snorts and follows.

“You know maths makes my brain hurt,” he’s saying as he leaves. Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are left in silence.

“Well,” Alya eventually says. “Trust Max to call you out like that.”

“I don’t think he realised that he might be making Adrien uncomfortable?” Marinette says. “I know I sometimes don’t think –”

“Actually, he didn’t,” Adrien says absently. “I think he’s got a point. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it yet.”

“Yeah, not like I’ve been telling you that crap for months, dude,” Nino says dryly. “But sure, listen to the nerd with maths on his side.”

“No!” Marinette and Alya cry when a smirk spreads across Adrien’s face.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Adrien says. Marinette and Alya groan and grab Nino to make a run for it, so he chases after them, ignoring the people around them that are staring. “I have the power of God and Anime on my side!”

“Stay away!” Alya calls over her shoulder. “Keep your vines away from us, meme freak!”

.

“Fancy seeing you here, milady,” Chat Noir says when he lands on the rooftop behind Ladybug, who turns and greets him with a smile. “How did you know I liked afternoon strolls?”

“Just a lucky guess,” Ladybug says. “I’ve got a little after-school class to attend.”

“What a coincidence! So do I!” Chat Noir says. “In that case, allow me to escort you there.”

“I think you’ll find that I’ll be escorting you,” Ladybug teases and then jumps off again.

“Hey! No fair!” Chat Noir cries as he races after her. It’s a tight race to get to Master Fu’s, but Ladybug just edges out a victory and lands in front of the parlour a split second before Chat Noir, though he’s not too upset to have come second when Ladybug gives him a kiss on the cheek as a consolation prize and holds the parlour door open for him.

“Hello, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Master Fu smiles when they enter the main room.

“Hi, Master!” Ladybug says.

“So, why are we here?” Chat Noir says. He sinks to the floor with Ladybug when Master Fu indicates that they should sit.

“I’m very proud of the partnership that you two have formed,” Master Fu says. “And of the progress that you have made as Ladybug and Chat Noir.” He pats the Miracle Box between them and adds, “I thought that it was time to teach you about the Miraculouses. You’ve certainly earned the right.”

“Looks like you were right about the afternoon class, milady,” Chat Noir says, and Ladybug giggles. This time, when Master Fu opens the box to reveal the colourful ring around the yin and yang symbol, more compartments spring open down the sides of the box in a descending spiral. Chat Noir’s eyes widen. Whoa! How many more Miraculouses are there?

“Aren’t they based on the Chinese zodiac?” Chat Noir says once he’s taken in the Rooster, Snake, Pig, and Dragon and noticed a certain pattern. Master Fu nods.

“This is the Chinese Miraculous set. There are other sets of Miraculouses with other bases, such as the Aztecan Miraculouses of life and death, but this is the only surviving box after my mistake,” he says. Huh. Must have been a real big mistake if these are the only Miraculouses left. But Chat Noir’s pretty sure that this isn’t the right time to ask about that.

“And…are they based on Wu Xing?” Ladybug says, pointing out the Fox, Bee, Turtle, Peacock, and Butterfly slots. “The Five Phases? Five elements?”

“Correct, Ladybug,” Master Fu says.

“My bugaboo is so smart!” Chat Noir says. Ladybug’s cheeks pinken.

“My mum’s Chinese,” she says, and Chat Noir files that bit of information away in his mental safe of Ladybug Facts. “I don’t know any dialects or anything, but…she did tell me a little bit about Taoism.”

“Each Miraculous corresponds to an element, with three tiers of power,” Master Fu says. “I won’t teach you about the zodiacs today, but I do want to talk about the elementals.”

“The Miraculouses don’t necessarily represent an element,” Wayzz chimes in. “There’s no “fire Miraculous” or “water Miraculous”. It’s more that they correspond with an element that represents their concepts. For example, I correspond with the element of earth!”

“Because earth is stable, right?’ Ladybug says. “And you’re a pretty wise and solid kwami.”

Wayzz beams at her words and nods. “Yes! I embody protection and defence, so my powers reflect that. The Butterfly corresponds with water because of the fluid nature of akumatisation.”

“How is akumatisation a good thing, though?” Chat Noir says. Master Fu doesn’t answer, instead tilting his head at them like he expects them to figure it out for themselves. To be fair, as a teacher, he probably is expecting that.

“No Miraculous is necessarily good or bad, right?” Ladybug says. “I mean, you’d think Chat Noir would be the bad guy, but his Cataclysm is invaluable when saving Paris. And I can think of so many ways someone could use mine for evil.”

“Then…if you had someone who was upset…” Chat Noir says slowly. “Someone who felt helpless…they could become an akuma, right? That’s what Hawkmoth does. But instead of making them supervillains…they could be superheroes?”

“Correct, both of you,” Master Fu says with a wide smile. “The Butterfly creates champions to fight alongside themselves and their allies. It doesn’t necessarily rely on emotion, though, as Duusu the Peacock kwami is the kwami of emotion. Rather, the Butterfly draws on injustice and the desire to right it, and it metamorphoses its target with the power to fix that injustice. Hence, Nooroo is the kwami of transition and metamorphosis, just as a caterpillar transitions into a butterfly, and just as water can transition between physical states.”

“And every akuma we’ve faced has felt wronged!” Ladybug gasps. “Ivan when he was bullied by Chloé!”

“Nino when he couldn’t throw m – Adrien a party!” Chat Noir says.

“Alya when Chloé got her suspended!”

“Alix when her watch was broken!”

“Mr Agreste when his book and brooch were taken!” the two of them chorus together. Ladybug’s bluebell eyes are glittering like she’s discovered the secrets of the universe, and Chat Noir would be utterly captivated if he wasn’t certain that he looked the same way. A small part of his brain laments that he can’t see her eyes in their true shade of grey, to know just how much prettier she could possibly be.

“Indeed,” Master Fu says. “The positivity or negativity of the emotion doesn’t matter. Someone could feel the righteous desire to do good and right wrongs and they would be just as able to be akumatised. I suspect that Hawkmoth targets those with negative emotions because it is easier to take advantage of them, to convince them to help him with the promise of getting to right the wrong that left them in their situation while their judgement is clouded. And injustice is very subjective to the person. What could be just to one person could be unjust to another.”

“That would explain the…odder akumas,” Ladybug says.

“It’s okay, you can say Mr Pigeon and Animan,” Chat Noir says, making Ladybug snort.

“And unlike the Peacock, which can amokise itself with no ill consequences, the Butterfly holder should not akumatise themselves,” Master Fu says. “The Peacock’s amoks are external, whereas the Butterfly’s akumas create internal change within the target themselves, and so a transformed Butterfly cannot affect themselves with an akuma. And akumatising themselves when not transformed, without the safety net of the holder’s control over the akuma, can potentially have harmful effects on their psyche. Only a truly desperate holder would akumatise themselves.”

“What kind of effects?” Ladybug says quietly. She bites her lip and shoots Chat Noir a look, clearly remembering back to their suspicions of Gabriel Agreste…but he wouldn’t akumatise himself! He can’t be that desperate, right?

“Impossible to say for sure, since there are almost limitless ways to akumatise someone. It could affect their grip on the world around them. It could affect their morality and how far they’re willing to go to achieve their goals. It could leave them with twisted flashbacks, or distort how they see their friends and family, or many more options that I couldn’t even begin to delve into. It depends on how they akumatised themselves.”

“Well, it can’t be Fa – Gabriel Agreste, then, right?” Chat Noir says almost desperately, like he’s pleading with himself. “He must have something to lose. Like his son?”

“That’s what I said to Tikki when I asked her,” Ladybug says. Chat Noir’s heart leaps at the reminder that Ladybug cares so deeply for him, even if it is his civilian self that she’s crushing on. In a way, it’s painful to know that she’s crushing on him but also not on him; it’s not like he’s had the chance to ask her out as Adrien, and he doesn’t know her civilian identity, so he can’t try and build a friendship and maybe eventually a relationship there.

“Can we keep going, Master?” he says to pull himself out of his swirling thoughts.

Master Fu nods and points at the Bee comb. “The Bee corresponds with the element of fire,” he says. “It’s a very passionate Miraculous and represents subjection and rejuvenation, just as the bee stings those it deems a threat in order to protect its hive and pollinates the land around it. Bees also represent growth, so Pollen’s ideal holder is someone who has much potential for growth to be coaxed out of them, to learn when to sting for the greater good and how to remain warm while not burning out of control.”

“Well, I wouldn’t make a good Bee, then,” Chat Noir jokes weakly. “Bugaboo sets my heart on fire.”

“Oh my god,” Ladybug mutters and shoves him. But her lips are twitching, and his heart is a little lighter, so he counts his joke as pretty effective.

“The Fox corresponds with the element of wood,” Master Fu says with a fond little smile at their antics. “Trixx pushes his holders to grow and adapt and change, just as wood branches out. The Fox represents illusion and manipulation, so its primary power of Mirage allows its holder to stay back and work from the shadows, involving themselves when necessary.”

“So, it shouldn’t go to someone aggressive?” Chat Noir says.

“It can,” Master Fu says. “So long as that person recognises the value of working from afar and withdrawing when needed. There are personalities that would not at all fit a certain Miraculous, but no Miraculous has only one type of person who would be compatible with it.”

“I may represent protection, but I’ve had some very aggressive holders before,” Wayzz chimes in. “And Pollen has had quite subdued and quiet holders that mirror herself, despite representing a Miraculous of passion. Some of Nooroo’s holders have been so empathetic that they were driven to help right all the injustices they could, while others were able to completely detach themselves from their target’s emotions and create champions for their cause with no emotional investment themselves.”

“But isn’t the Peacock about emotion? Ladybug says. “You just said that the Butterfly relies on emotion around injustice.”

“The Peacock and Butterfly are similar, yes,” Master Fu says. “They can both sense the emotions of those around them. But while the Butterfly uses its champions’ emotions as a catalyst of sorts to persuade them to come to the holder’s aid, the Peacock is emotion. Its primary power is amokisation, allowing it to summon a sentimonster based on the emotion of its target. It requires a soulful holder; someone who can truly delve into the depths of emotion and understand its complexity.”

“So…an akuma is based on what the holder wants, but an amok is based on what the target needs?” Ladybug says. Master Fu beams.

“Yes,” he says. “Subtle differences, but still differences nonetheless. The Peacock corresponds to the element of metal, so it is a very introspective Miraculous. The wrong emotion for your purpose can have…vastly different results than desired.”

“Sounds like there’s a bit of history behind that?” Ladybug says. Master Fu nods but doesn’t say anything, so she doesn’t push and neither does Chat Noir, not that it would be their place to do so anyway.

“All of the Wu Xing Miraculouses have a secondary power, and the Ladybug and Black Cat have quite a few more powers,” he says. “But it’s up to your kwamis to decide if you are ready to learn and understand them. Especially Black Plague.”

“The last time Plagg taught his holder Black Plague was in 1338, although the date of 1347 is far more widely known,” Wayzz says. It takes a moment for the significance of that date to hit Chat Noir, but his stomach suddenly churns when he grasps it.

“Oh,” he says weakly. Next to him, Ladybug has paled as she too realises. “That makes me feel good about myself.”

“Black Plague can be extremely useful in the right hands, under strict control,” Master Fu says. “That Black Cat wielder was…not the right hands. But Plagg has refused to teach it since, understandably.”

“And that’s the counterpart to my Miraculous Ladybug?” Ladybug says, and Master Fu nods.

“This is all so cool,” Chat Noir says. “And mind-screwy. I think my head’s going to explode.” But he’d totally take this over normal school any day. Especially because he gets to learn with his lady!

Actually, no, he probably shouldn’t jinx the whole normal school thing. Normal school, he enjoys; it’s just the stuff that all normal kids learn that can be a drag. Especially when he’s learning about Miraculouses right now!

“Should we discuss the Ladybug and Black Cat another day?” an amused Master Fu says.

“Yes, please,” Ladybug says faintly. “I think I need to take notes.”

“I can always tutor you, milady,” Chat Noir grins.

“Sure, kitty,” Ladybug drawls. “I’ll give you my notes, so you know what to teach me.”

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Chat Noir says loudly, ignoring Ladybug’s giggle as he jumps to his feet, even though the sound fills his insides with warmth. “Thanks for the lesson, Master.”

“Thanks, Master!” Ladybug says. Master Fu smiles at both of them.

“Good luck, Ladybug and Chat Noir,” he says. “I don’t think I could have picked a better duo.”

[rana-tiddalik]

Space Whales

(Thanks to @beka-tiddalik for the prompt for this, which was “space whales”.)

The ship was well beyond the Oort Cloud when they found the Space Whales.

Irina had been running the routine diagnostics on the systems when she had picked up some weird electromagnetic interference. She was routing it through the speakers on the bridge to try and puzzle out the source when she heard a strangled cry and the pounding of feet in the corridor. It was her passenger. Vincent Cartwright. The scientist that the ISA had chartered an entire barge to bring to one of their interstellar labs. Him alone. Well, him and whatever was in the black box in the cargo hold.

“That sound… is that live? Where is it coming from?” he said, eyes wild.

“Glitch in the external EM sensor arrays I think. Probably some feedback.” She frowned. “Never heard anything like it though. It’s eerie.”

He wasn’t listening, he had pushed past her to the console and started working the controls.

“OI!” Irina shouted, grabbing him and hurling him back.

“What are you doing?” he shouted, eyes wild as he caught hold of one of the chairs to keep from sprawling on the cold metal floor. “What are YOU doing Terran?” Irina snarled back. Her fury cut through his indignation and he shrank away from her. She jabbed a finger at him. “ISA might need your brain, but you even look at my helm controls again without my say-so, that’s the only part of you they’re going to get.”

Vincent raised his hands “OK.” He said, face pale. “You’re right. I apologise. I should not have touched your ship. But please.” He said, looking pleadingly at the controls. “That isn’t feedback it’s actually something of huge significance, so could you please do a full long range sensor sweep before we lose them forever?”

“Lose what?” said Irina, eyes narrowing.

“Fuck me.” She said, ten minutes later, staring at the screen, jaw slack. The colossal beings danced through the void, their fins fully unfurled, billowing in the streaming solar wind from the distant sun. Their rippling song crackling through the speakers as they called to and clicked at each other in the far reaches of the x-ray spectrum. “I knew it!” said Vincent, laughing uncontrollably. He clapped Irina on the shoulder “Congratulations Captain Miller! We’ve just made second contact.”

“Huh. How about that.” Said Irina, shaking her head, eyes transfixed. “How did you know?” she asked. “Hmm?” said Vincent. “The Whales. No one’s seen them for hundred of years though. Nothing confirmed at least. But you recognised their song in an instant. How did you know it was them?” “I’d recognise it anywhere.” He said, dreamily as he drank in the sight. “I must have watched the old tapes every day as a kid. I always dreamed of finding them again, and hunting for any other life that might exist out here.” He looked at her, eyes gleaming. “Come on captain! Fire up your drones. We’ve got work to do.”

At first there was another argument between Vincent and Irina over whether they should divert from the route to trail them. Vincent’s zeal for this once in centuries scientific opportunity vied with Irina’s concern over fuel and food supplies. This was resolved once they realised that the whales were following them, trailing along in their wake.

“What are they doing?” said Irina, eyeing the readouts suspiciously. “Feeding.” Said Vincent. As they watched, the front end of their main body split open, and a translucent billowing sheet spilled out. It shimmered with a ghostly fire. Vincent smiled. “Do you see that? They’re feeding off the ion stream from our engines.” “It’s beautiful.” Irina whispered, looking at the auroral glimmer. “Optical baleen.” Said Vincent, sighing. “It’s unbelievable stuff. My great many times over aunt did some of the original studies of it back in the 22nd century. She famously said it’s the most complex structure in the known universe.” “That’s a hell of a claim.” Scoffed Irina. “Isn’t that meant to be the brain?” “Oh my word no.” Said Vincent. He squinted at the monitor “That sheet is about, what, the size of a football field? Maybe a field and a half? If you unpacked its effective surface area and laid it flat, you’d be able to wrap the whole Earth like a present and have enough left for the moon. It’s a got such a dense, space filling fractal structure that it can hoover up stray hydrogen atoms from the void. Even photons have a hard time getting through it.” “Gotcha. Very complex.” She scratched her nose. “So. You reckon it’s safe to fire up the pod and see them up close?” Their matching grins indicated that neither actually cared about the answer to that.

Irina changed her tune once they’d gotten closer.

“You’re sure this is safe?” said Irina, peering through the cockpit window. “Yes. Perfectly safe.” Said Vincent. “You sure? What about…?” she gestured. “The tethers?” “Yeah. Those things look pretty grabby.” “We’ll be fine.” He paused “Probably.” He said sheepishly. “If they try to grab us, I’m dumping you out the airlock first.” Said Irina, glaring suspiciously at them. “What a way to go though.” She said. They had been invisible from the ship, nearly a hundred kilometres away, but this close they could see that the skin of the creatures bristled with a forest of prehensile hairs. Vincent pointed out that longer, thicker strands formed the ribbing of the great billowing fins, and the optic baleen, allowing them to move the great sheets, waving them about to give the appearance of drifting in some kind of aetherial breeze.

Irina watched as two Whales drifted close together, and the filaments stretched out to each other, to briefly entangle, or scrape across the other’s carapace. “We think that’s how they communicate.” Vincent whispered. “That and those x-ray clicks we picked up.” The scale of them was also something that had been lost on the monitor. Irina’s cargo freighter was about the same size as its terrestrial sea-going equivalent. It could have fit at least twice over inside any of the Whales. The pod they were currently in could seat 8, and would have barely been a speck of dirt in their eyes. Irina squinted at them. “Where are their eyes?” “They don’t have them.” Said Vincent. “Not a specific organ at least. Actually, since their entire skin is photosensitive, so I guess technically you could say that their entire body is one giant eye.” Irina’s eyes narrowed. “There. On that one.” She pointed at one of them. Its carapace was marked with a striking discoloured band looped arounf its body “Are those… scars?” She asked. “I don’t know.” Said Vincent, zooming the external lens to snap a series of pictures of the markings. The magnification revealed that the band was caused by long deep scratches in the skin. “There are records of similar patterns on members of the first pod.” He mused. They both considered what could have left these deep wounds in the Whale. Irina shuddered.

She activated the launch sequence. The drones flew off, carrying the long range beacons. “You sure those beacons will attach OK, Doc?” Vincent nodded “Standard ship plating should be identical to their carapace in all the ways important for the beacon. So yes, short answer.” “Huh. That’s convenient.” Said Irina. “Well, not really. Ship plating was designed from studying their carapace. Just like the molecular bonders on the base of the drone were modelled after their tethers.” Irina blinked. “Wait, really?” Vincent laughed. “They don’t teach how we came to have this tech in flight school.” Irina shrugged “I guess they were more interested in teaching us how to fly these barges, rather than their history.” “Fair point.” Said Vincent. “But still, considering just how important those things have been to our development, I’m surprised it isn’t better known. At the time of our first encounter with them back in 2104, we had a few space stations and a struggling ‘colony’ on the moon. By the time they left our solar system again 60 odd years later, we’d arrived on the moons of Saturn. The first person walked on Pluto before the 23rd century. It was all because of what we learned from them. Even after all this time, it’s incredible just how much of our tech is still based on our only other encounter with them.” “And how much is that?” asked Irina, leaning back in her chair, monitoring the pings from the drones. “Uh…” said Vincent, scratching his head “Approximately all of it?” Irina glanced around the pod “No shit?” she said. “No shit.” Said Vincent. “The hull plating is designed around their carapace. Our sensors are based on their skin, sensitive to the faintest electromagnetic emissions. Our suit material is derived from their fins, tough and flexible. The reactors and engines exploit the same metabolic reactions that let them turn occasional hydrogen atoms and space dust into enough energy to maintain something that size” he gestured out the window. “Hell, this pod is so like them, they’re probably not bothered by us being this close because they think we’re a tiny, mute calf.” “Wow.” Said Irina, letting out a long breath, watching the tethers of the nearby Whale extend toward them, but they were just out of reach. “Just as long as they don’t try and suckle us.”

They arrived back in the docking bay to the applause of the rest of the crew. As Irina chatted to her quartermaster, Vincent checked over his precious package. A car sized crate, hermetically sealed and heavily shielded. Irina nudged it with her boot. “Please don’t.” Said Vincent. “Why? Is it dangerous?” said Irina. “I told your bosses I didn’t want to ship anything dangerous.” “No. The shielding is blocking all the radiation that could harm us. Our friends out there must be getting quite a show though. To them this ship must be lit up like a lighthouse.” He frowned. “Which might explain why they’ve suddenly showed up after a couple of centuries. Interesting…” Irina frowned. “They’re not going to try and get at it are they? We aren’t carrying their favourite snack or anything, right?” “Oh no. We’re perfectly safe. I think.” Irina sighed and shook her head. “When you’re done, meet me on the bridge. I want to go over the offloading procedures when we get to the station. Want to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

As they talked on the bridge, the clicks of the Whales played through the speakers. They had gotten used to the sound over the last day or two, and found it strangely soothing. All of a sudden, it changed. The pitch shifted higher, and louder, a urgent, trilling call. As they watched, one by one they retracted their baleen, pulled in their fins, and scattered away from the ship, fading away into darkness. Silence fell on the bridge. “That’s odd.” Said Vincent. He squinted at the monitor. The stars flickered and grew dim. “Sensor fault?” he asked. Irina shrugged and sat in the chair to call for someone to check it out. Then ship lurched and pitched wildly, as the superstructure groaned under sudden pressure. Vincent fell to the ground. Irina was strapping in, shouting curt questions and instructions into the comms, and screaming at Vincent to attach his safety line. There was another groan and a number of alarms went off all at once. The ship listed violently from side to side, and Vincent was tossed around the bridge. He registered Irina swearing loudly, and punching buttons, followed by the unmistakable whine of the engines powering up, and the ship vibrated, but no response. Irina screamed and pushed more buttons, but to no avail. Then there was a final crash, and then came the kick of sudden acceleration. Vincent was thrown against the rear wall, cracking the back of his head, and slipping into unconsciousness.

He awoke two days later in the med bay of the ISA station. As soon as he was cleared to leave, he tracked down Irina, to find out what had happened. He found her in the docking bay, staring at her ship. Vincent gaped in disbelief. It looked like something had latched around the rear third of the ship. The plating on the ship was dented and cracked, and marked all around by a series of long thin gashes torn in a familiar pattern all around the hull.

Vincent, Irina and her whole crew were sworn to secrecy over the whole matter, and heavily compensated for their troubles. And silence. The ISA ‘acquired’ the ship for further study. Vincent was provided with the data, in the thoughts that he could help. He couldn’t. Like everyone else he had no idea what had occurred. He spent the rest of his time on the station confined in his quarters, watching the footage over and over again, with the ship’s sensor data synchronised and scrolling on another screen. No matter how long he looked, nothing made sense. All that could be seen was that suddenly something descended on the ship. Something that blotted out the stars and was invisible on every spectrum of radiation the sensors could detect. A roiling cloud in space. When it enveloped the rear of the ship, every sensor immediately died. The thing latched on so hard it resisted the pull of the subluminal engines. The strain had nearly torn the ship in half. Then, out of the darkness, came one of the Whales. The sensor’s picked up its last cries as it tore toward the thing attacking the ship. It shrieked as it came, fins fully unfurled, and strange fluorescent patterns flickering along its tendrils. It rammed into the thing covering the ship, lost in its murky depths in an instant. Then bright flashes of light, and intense gamma bursts pierced through the cloud, illuminating it from with in, and projecting strange shadows that ISA would puzzle over for years to come. The grip on the ship loosened, and Irina had taken the opportunity to go to full burn, and they were free. They ran hot for hours, until the Whales, and whatever new form of life they had discovered were far behind them. Vincent didn’t know why the Whale had done that for them. Perhaps they really did see human ships as small, mute calves. Perhaps it was pure instinct to either drive it away or sacrifice itself to protect the other members of the pod. Maybe he had it wrong, and it was the whales that were hunting the other life form, using their ship as bait. He would never know, but he hoped the Whale had somehow survived.

Vincent, Irina and the crew caught the very first transport back to the solar system. With the compensation money, Irina bought herself a new ship, and secured a loan to buy a second. Enough to start her own freight company. Within a few years her ships zig-zagged all around the solar system. Her company struggled after the new generation drives came on the market (although their release had been delayed when one of the ISA’s deep space research labs vanished without a trace. Most thought an experiment had gone super-critical. Only Vincent and Irina suspected otherwise). She stubbornly stuck to the old reliable drives, and flatly refused to fly in any ship that used them. Eventually, she sold off the company and retired to Mars. Vincent had been offered an tenured position at the station. It was everything he had ever dreamed of: to lead the tracking of the Whales he had marked, and continue study of the experimental drive. He had declined. He would only leave Earth twice again in his life, and never ventured into interstellar space again.

[kitanoko]

I wrote this for @selephi​‘s birthday! ENJOY AND HOPE U LIKE THIS FRIEND!

In which Yaoyorozu walk Todoroki home

"You know you should be really grateful that ME...THE GREAT MINETA has come to mentor you. It's my pleasure by the way to teach you how to solve the most enigmatic mysteries of all time with my intelligence and perfect skills built upon years of experience."

Todoroki stuffed a piece of fried chicken drenched with mayo into his mouth and gurgled it down with the lager he had just ordered. Well, correction, he was given the beverage for free. "On the house" a giggling waitress had said, staring at him for a few seconds too long.

Mineta murmured a few profanities under his breath and continued.

"Were you even listening to me?" The teeny dwarf with purple curled hair stated a bit louder than previous. The energetic blues in the back covered his voice just a little. Huh, strange, Todoroki started thinking, Mineta's hair looked so much like jumbo grapes. The ones he missed from home so much since landing here in Japan.

Well he did see some famous Japanese ones at the supermarket near his temporary apartment but they were a bit pricey.

"Sure." He absentmindedly answered while reaching for a napkin. Mineta scowled at him and crossed his legs, lips pursed.

Todoroki had come here for work purposes. Originally from San Francisco, Todoroki came from a line of famous detectives and secret agents. His agency needed his help over in Kyoto and sent him over straight away without even asking him twice. Midoriya and Iida told him he'd definitely have fun over at their satellite office.

When the duo haired man had arrived, hair and clothes dishevelled, he found out the office in Kyoto only had a handful of employees, half of which got on his nerves. Mineta, a detective (if you could even call him that) who started out only recently at their firm already held 5 offences above his head, and here he was, sitting with him, telling Todoroki how much 'honour' he's bestowing upon him.

Ugh. Can this night get any worse.

To his right was a stoic man named Shouji and a boisterous one named Kirishima. They were also employees of the firm and Todoroki held respect for them both, especially the well-known 'Octa-man'.

"Well I'm glad you're here," Kirishima started, body slumping on the cracked leather seats, "Meeting THE 'Todoroki Shouto' is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

The man mentioned clinked Kirishima's glass and muttered a cheers before giving him a slight grin. "I think you give me too much credit, Kirishima."

"Oh no," Shouji commented, his tall figure took up a big part of the couch, leaning forward to project his voice better, "It really is a rarity. I think us 3 are grateful for you being here, if Aizawa didn't end up in the hospital last week, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Aizawa was one of the firm's most well-respected managing agent, after 20 years of fighting and solving crime, he took the duty of leading a starting team out in Asia, Kyoto being one of APAC's main operating offices. Apparently he was 'getting old' he said, slipped off a four story building while in a chase and lost the criminal. Got gifted with two broken ribs and a broken hip.

Kirishima sent Todoroki a wide smile that cut his face in half, scruffling his hair which was even more red than his own, with one hand and interjected.

"Teach me all your manly ways my bro! I'm ready to fight alongside you whenever that son of a bitch shows up!"

Todoroki nodded in agreement. The sooner he catches the criminal that Aizawa had let slip out of his grasp the sooner he'd be able to fly back home.

Although, hanging out with these guys weren't so bad. Except for Mineta, who was now oogling some girl at the far corner of the bar. It disgusted him how disrespectful he was acting, let alone being an agent who worked under the same roof as him.

Todoroki finished his fifth swig of beer and casually swiped the vodka under Kirishima. He emptied it in one go and with a swipe of his right hand, dried the lingering bit of alcohol on his chapped lips.

"Think I'll go," the fire and ice user spoke, using Shouji's shoulder as a support. He stood up, and grumbled, a faint dizzy spell had him sway a bit. What was in that vodka?

His friends to his left looked worried with Kirishima knitting his brows in concern.

"You want me to come with you man?"

Todoroki shook his head vehemently. Loosening his tie in a quick left and right motion, he flung a hand out as if to tell Kirishima he was fine. Shouji wasn't at all convinced but let him get out anyway.

At this point, Todoroki had noticed that Mineta was gone, off somewhere to 'pick up chicks' as he would call it. His vision was getting a little blurry and his temples were pounding. He better get home and rest before tomorrow's 7am conference call.

"Hey come on pretty lady," Mineta's voice rang like annoying cicadas on a boiling hot day. Todoroki instinctively eyed where the little grape man was standing, conveniently near the exit that he was going to take and noticed the dark-haired girl he was trying to flirt with or whatever. She had a very uncomfortable yet polite smile etched on her face.

"No, please sir, let go of my arm," the lady insisted. Her eyes were bright, cheeks plump and dusted pink, and Todoroki had to say, her volumed hair framed her pretty heart shaped face perfectly.

She stood tall on her black stilettos and nervously grabbed the hem of her short black skirt as her leg slowly moved backwards. Still, Mineta urged on with a face like a wild animal.

Todoroki has had enough.

With a quick three-step stride, Todoroki was standing right beside the lady. He sent Mineta a viscious glare that made the grape boy startle in fear.

"Leave her alone," The duo haired man could hear himself talking a bit louder than usual. What was he doing? He should be going home and having a nice steamy shower. But seeing the girl beside him being harassed by Mineta like that was something he couldn't get out of his system. He tightly gripped Mineta's tiny arm and ripped it off her like he was acting on a vendetta.

It was probably the alcohol.

By now the crowd had dispersed a bit, music still blaring from the speakers high up on the ceiling and a small semi circle had formed to watch what was happening.

Crap. Todoroki thought, he hated getting attention.

"I'm..I'm sorry," Mineta finally managed to answer, his eyes were watering and his legs wobbled under Todoroki's intense stare. It didn't help that his heterochromia made him look that much more angry.

After two more seconds of seeing Todoroki's taciturn expression, Mineta knew he had to escape and scurried back to find Shouji who was shaking his head with Kirishima in disapproval.

The lady finally sighed in relief, noticing the crowd going back to form their own cliques and held a hand to her chest.

"Thank you so much," she began, turning to look into his eyes, "I didn't want to hurt him...if you hadn't come I think I might have had to call security or something."

"It's nothing, just didn't want us to have to deal with a lawsuit tomorrow."

Todoroki's legs motioned over to the door and the lady extended a hand to him before he could leave.

"I'm Yaoyorozu Momo. Nice to meet you and thank you, again."

Todoroki grabbed her soft hands and mumbled something before she could ask another question.

Pushing out the door, the slight autumn breeze ruffled his hair and Todoroki found himself stumbling along the sidewalk towards what he hoped was West of the city.

He had a faint recollection of his apartment being somewhere near the intersection with the bright orange Yoshinoya but with his headache he figured he shouldn't even think much anymore.

With an unsteady step, he took a quick rest after crossing the street. He leaned against the concrete wall of what looked like the outer area of a highschool and rolled up his sleeves. Usually he'd be able to regulate his body temperature but everytime after he drank, he just can't seem to do it as well. Right now, he felt sweat beading against his skin, the only thing cooling him down was the gust of strong wind that seemed to blow away even the seeds of wild dandelions.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure closing in on him. The slim shadow got nearer and finally he realized it was the girl, Yaoyorozu, that was jaywalking across to where he was. What's she doing here?

"Mister!" He heard her call out, "Are you alright?"

Todoroki nodded before watching her hold a handkerchief to his forehead.

"You don't look so good, sorry I didn't mean to follow you!" Yaoyorozu apologized immediately in case there was some misunderstanding going on. "I..I..."

The man grabbed her hand that was still on his forehead and held it there.

"Your hands are cold." He mumbled casually and she felt a warmth that tickled from her spine to her extremities. Yaoyorozu widened her eyes and quickly took her hand to her side.

Todoroki had no idea why she seemed so nervous but thought the ruddiness of her cheeks must have been due to whatever beverage she just had. A sweet smell wafted over him when she stood closer and he realized she had on a light fruity perfume. Without a second thought, Yaoyorozu held her arm around his shoulder as if to support him.

"I'll take you home," she offered graciously, "I think you had one too many drinks sir."

Sir. She just called him 'sir'. Todoroki thought, she was a humourous one.

"Call me Todoroki." He answered, and without confirming whether he wanted the help or not, the steps he started to take implied he wouldn't mind her accompanying him for the short walk.

Yaoyorozu tucked a loose hair over her ear and smiled, Todoroki noticing the lines on the corner of her eyes that had formed when she did.

"I live a block away from here."

"Is it near Yoshinoya?"

Todoroki cocked a brow.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"Oh nothing," she said, "it's just that I used to live near here too when I was still a university student."

They pass Emmachi station quite soon after, them filling all the awkward silences with small talk and both of them come to enjoy each other's company. Yaoyorozu didn't lose her grip on Todoroki the whole way, either politely positioning her hand on his shoulder or gripping his arm.

By the time they get to the entrance of Todoroki's apartment, he had already loosened up the buttons near his neck to let the heat out. Yaoyorozu blushed at him and bowed slightly.

"Have a safe trip up the stairs!" She beamed and Todoroki let out a relaxed chuckle.

"Ya, hope I don't fall and break my nose."

She didn't seem to take that joke lightly.

"Let me help you up then!"

Todoroki wanted to laugh. What is this naivety? Wasn't she scared to get kidnapped or something?

"For all you know, I could be a murderer or a kidnapper." His voice sounded quite serious actually.

"No, Todoroki-san I could tell you're a good person! You...you helped me back there, and I swear that purple guy would have gotten badly hurt if I had to use my judo on him!" Yaoyorozu commented matter-of-factly.

So she knew martial arts huh. Guess you really can't judge a book by it's cover.

The man turned to unlock the gate and once again felt her slender fingers around his wrist.

He sighed. "Okay if you insist. It's 3 floors so its not going to be a breezy trek."

It took them 5 minutes to get up there and with Todoroki's feet feeling like tofu, he was just glad he finally made it home. Just a metre left before he could sprawl over his futon. Yaoyorozu didn't stop chatting away the whole time, he learnt that she was a biochemist doing her Masters and he also learnt that she seemed to really like her friends. She enjoyed arranging flowers and knows a lot about tea.

The last few steps to his door, Todoroki fished out his keys and stabbed it in before giving it a twist. Yaoyorozu waved.

"Thanks by the way," Todoroki said, he placed a hand over his head to massage his temples, "Really, I was never that great with alcohol, lightweight they'd all call me."

The lady giggled slightly, fixing the strap of her purse on her shoulder before taking his hands in her own in a polite handshake.

She was standing so close to him. Her orbs lively and bright.

Yaoyorozu blushed when Todoroki took a step closer and drew her face with a light tap under her chin and gave her a light peck on her cheek.

What the hell. Did he just kiss her?

"Um..Todo..Todo..." She couldn't even pronounce his name at this point. Thoughts were running wildly in her mind. Yaoyorozu was a fan of shoujo manga but this was...this was real life! It didn't help that his handsome face was right in front of her; should she kiss him back too? Oh my, she had just met him for a good half an hour and now her heart's pounding in her ears.

Ugh, what would Seo do if Wakamatsu had kissed her?

Todoroki cleared his throat, successfully breaking the black-haired girl from her thoughts.

He seemed slightly awkward following what just happened, his hand still holding the door open. He had no idea why he had done what he had done, but seeing her cute face redden up gave his heart a tug.

"Goodnight...." He held out his phone. How he managed to still balance his phone and swipe it steadily he didn't know. "Um, whats your number?"

Yaoyorozu gulped. "7788644656" she blurted that out in a hurry. She felt a vibration of her phone in her pocket within seconds and Todoroki stuffed his back to its original spot.

"Alright, give me a text when you're back home. Just called you so you'll have my number too. Bye."

The lady only managed to nod, watching as he gave her a wave of his hand before disppearing behind the wooden door painted white.

Was that going to be their last meeting? She thought as her heart practically leapt out of her ribcage. Yaoyorozu found a slight dance in her steps as she hopped back down the apartment.

She couldn't wait till she got home to send Todoroki a text. And of course, she had to tell her bff Jirou about this.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Episode 8

*comment shared a comic shipping Sayaka and Kyoko*

What. What is this. Is shipping the Blue-haired Paladin and the Red-Haired Warrior a thing? Because I'm suddenly seeing it as a thing. Seriously that is adorable. Damn it. I'm still holding the "Letting Familiars Go" thing against her, but between her Tragic Backstory and that comic I'm now shipping the two. ...given how short my last ship was I'm suddenly worried.

And we’re back! Watching bloodstained Silhouette-Sayaka hack wildly at the the downed witch while Silhouette-Madoka and Silhouette-Kyoko watch.

Jeebus.

The labyrinth breaks down as Sayaka laughs, staring ahead wide-eyed and muttering about how “It’s easy once you know how to do it. I’m sure I’ll never lose this way.”

Sayaka. Just because you can shut off pain and use magic to heal damage to your body, does not mean that you should!

Back in the real world construction site, Sayaka picks up her first Grief Seed. Well, while I’m not happy with her new fighting style, at least she got

What’s with that creepy head tilt and glance back? Have you been taking lessons from Homura?

Why did you just throw the Grief Seed

Why did you just throw the Grief Seed to Kyoko

Argh. No no no. Sayaka, you know that you only have so much magic, right? That you are not some special Magical Girl that doesn’t need Grief Seeds to recharge? I get that you think that you’re making a point, but you just fought a Witch and used up who knows how much magic, you need to recharge more than the bystander.

So what, you gave Kyoko the Grief Seed so that you wouldn’t be in her debt? Ok fine, that’s a slightly better reason. But still, you’d better find another Grief Seed soon, so you don’t run out of mana when you really need it.

Ok, see?! You just dismissed your outfit and then had to get caught by Madoka! That fight took a lot out of you, you cannot afford to give away Grief Seeds right now! Stop being Lawful Stupid!

“That idiot…” See, Kyoko agrees with me! This is not just someone with a “me first” philosophy scoffing at charity, this is a matter of keeping up your defensive ability!

Intro of Lies

Ep 8: I was Stupid… So Stupid

Later, as it’s raining…

As a mournful cello tells us that “This is a sad moment, u guys!”, Sayaka and Madoka are sitting at a bus stop, Sayaka leaning tiredly against Madoka. Madoka’s trying to tell Sayaka that going all Blood Knight is not a good way of fighting…

“Just because you don’t feel it, it doesn’t mean it’s ok to get hurt.” Yes, exactly!

But Sayaka’s just focused on winning. If she doesn’t fight like that, she can’t win, because she “doesn’t have any natural talent.” Um, you did just start as a MG a little while ago, right? It’s really not that much of a stretch to think you’d be less able than who-knows-how-old-they-are Magical Girls.

Madoka’s still trying to get it through Sayaka’s skull that even if it works, it doesn’t mean that it’s good.

“What’s ‘good for me’?”

Uh oh.

Yup, back to “I’m this shiny gem being held right in front of your face, not the meat puppet you were just talking at.”

Sayaka’s really getting fatalistic, isn’t she? Saying that the only worth she has left in the world is killing Witches. That’s she’s a walking, talking corpse, pretending it’s still alive.

Ok, personal note. Isn’t that what all people are, if we go with the idea that souls exist? Not that I want to make Kyubey sound like he was right, but the body is not the consciousness. Yes, you should take care of your soul-container, but the body itself is not ‘alive’ in that sense. You are not dead, Sayaka, you’re just… offset? Look I’m trying to talk Sayaka out of being Lawful Stupid, give me a break.

There is so much “good that others could do for you now, Sayaka! You can still have friends, you can still enjoy things like good food and music. Heck, there’s my newest ship thanks to that comic you lot posted!

I mean, that solves all your problems right there! Kyoko can teach you to stop being so self-sacrificing and enjoy your life again, you can teach her to care about other people besides herself, and together you act as a more moderate Magical Girl duo like redwulf said. And it even answers your concern about you being so different than Kamijo now, Kyoko’s just like you, an immortal magic user!

It’s not stupid, Sayaka, stop saying that it’s-

Wait.

Ep 8: I Was Stupid… So Stupid

Um, yes! Yes it is very stupid to think about how you could be happy again, Sayaka. Keep thinking that it’s stupid until you’re proven wrong. *fingers crossed*

See, Madoka just wants to make you happy again, Sayaka. So stop making her feel like she’s a bad friend.

“Then you fight them.”

What.

Why are you telling Madoka that Bunny-Cat said that she has Protagonist Powers? Why are you telling her that she could beat Witches easily?

“If you really want to do something for me, you should experience what I’ve experienced first.”

Sayaka, stahp.

“You can’t give up being human just out of a little pity, can you?!”

Ok, that’s just unfair, Sayaka.

“In place of you, who could accomplish anything but won’t-

So don’t talk like you care, when you’ve conveniently overlooked that!”

NO. BAD SAYAKA. TIME OUT FOR YOU, YOU MADE MADOKA CRY.

AND STOP DOING THE CREEPY STARES.

Jerk-Sayaka tells Madoka not to follow her, then runs off into the rain.

Wow. Ok. That was uncalled for, Sayaka. Yes, this situation sucks, but that does not give you grounds to blame Madoka for not getting her own soul torn out!

Madoka’s left standing dumbfounded in the rain, no doubt blaming herself. Argh.

And Jerk-Sayaka runs along- crying?

“I’m so stupid…! Why did I say all that to her?”

Ah, ok. Still a jerk thing to do, but Sayaka realizes that she let her emotions get out of hand. I’m still waiting for her to apologize to Madoka, but I can understand.

Aw, no. Sayaka, you are not beyond saving. Just go back and say you’re sorry for the outburst, I’m sure she’ll forgive you.

Homura? Or a sign that says Homura? Oh, do we get to see Homura’s place now?

Whut.

Well ok. This is appropriately arcane enough for the Mysterious Transfer Student, I suppose. Glaring white walls and floor, candles everywhere, floating scrolls and some huge pendulum…

Seems that Homura’s invited Kyoko over, to go over plans for Walpurgisnact. Oh yeah, the Giant Flying Thing that should drop a Super Grief Seed, I’d almost forgotten about that. Really speaks for the intensity of the “MGs are Lichs” thing that I stopped thingking about it. How much longer until she summons the Super Witch, again?

Kyoko asks how Homura knows where it will appear, the MST says ‘Statistics’.

...what Statistics?

Homura refuses to elaborate. I’m guessing she thinks that Kyoko wouldn’t approve of a plan to actually summon a Super Witch on purpose. Still, Kyoko wants more info. And so does

Kyubey

Ok, good on you for summoning your spear that quick, Kyoko. Go ahead and kick the uninvited guest out. But Bunny-Cat says it came with some important information…

“Sayaka Miki’s deterioration is happening far quicker than I expected.”

Uh oh. So her Soul Gem’s running out of juice faster than usual?

“It isn’t just all the magic she’s using. She, herself, has begun to curse the world.”

Oh crap. I’m remembering Mami’s lesson on Witches, how they are born from Curses.

Are we going to see the Anti-Kyubey soon? I’m actually not sure how much worse they could be than Jerk Bunny-Cat, but whatever actually creates Witches… could it see Sayaka as an opportunity for recruitment?

Going back to my theory that Homura got her powers from Anti-Kyubey (since Kyubey doesn’t know where she got them from), I’m thinking that she made a Ghost-Rider deal and then proceeded to renege on it, just focus on increasing her own power and protecting Muggles who don’t actively get in her way. But if some antagonist could convince Sayaka to be more active against the “selfish Magical Girls”... Oh dear.

(“I was stupid… so stupid… to think that Magical Girls could ever be good. They are only selfish, so I will destroy them all!”)

Kyoko snaps at Bunny-Cat, saying that it’s their fault in the first place. Kyubey ignores that, and says that at this rate Sayaka will be causing them some trouble before Walpurgisnacht arrives.

Kyubey: “So watch out! I don’t want to lose any more Magical Lunch Ladies than I have to.”

Kyoko’s still a bit confused, but Kyubey suggests that she talk to Sayaka about it. And Homura already knows what he’s talking about… although it’s curious where she learned “such interesting things”.

Homura has finally had enough of Kyubey and orders it out. Kyubey just turns around and walks through some shadow out of the room.

Wait, where did it walk out again? That room’s pretty bright, the only darkness is the sides of the seats- oh, wow. Ok, so Kyubey can apparently phase through solid objects or something. No wonder it keeps showing up indoors.

Kyoko asks why Homura’s letting it go, she says that there’s no point in killing it. I’d disagree, but whatever. As for Sayaka…

“Her Soul Gem has become too tainted. If it is not purified soon, there will be no coming back for her.”

So, it’s like a corroded battery? Her Gem’s not got enough full magic-packets in it, so it’s not going to last much longer? And if she want’s to keep fighting after that, she’ll need some new power.

And transition to the classroom. Jeez, in all this drama I almost forgot they’re still middle-schoolers.

Sayaka’s absent again… And Madoka’s blaming herself for not going after her.

Now it’s later in the day and… aw crap.

Hitomi’s deadline has passed. She’s going to confess to Kamijo.

The two are walking by a huge waterfall/dam at sunset, and Kamijo is cluelessly talking about he never realized that Hitomi’s house was that direction. To which she cheerfully admits that she lives in the exact opposite direction. But she went that way today because she has something to tell him.

Madoka is talking to someone, learning that Sayaka’s not home and she hasn’t been there since yesterday… wait, Sayaka has parents?! Or at least a guardian? We haven’t seen anyone, so I was honestly assuming that she was yet another orphan.

Well, Madoka’s not going to give up yet. Off she goes to find her!

Now we’re back at the dam, watching Hitomi and Kamijo talking about something but not hearing their words. As Sayaka watches from the shadows…

Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it. She’s falling, isn’t she. She’s going from Paladin to Blackguard.

Now Sayaka’s stumbling through a dark bubbly background as her theme music is playing

Nope, now she’s screaming as she slashes through a labyrinth. She’s still trying to keep her word, kill Witches…

Sayaka, your Soul Gem is looking kinda dark. Please tell me you’ve got some Grief Seeds to recharge it by now…

Footstep? Sayaka turns around to see Homura walking through the car park towards her. Sayaka is not pleased to see her blank head tilt stare.

“Why can’t you understand? You don’t have the luxury of killing familiars.”

So that wasn’t a Witch? She still doesn’t have any Grief Seeds? Good grief, Sayaka. This is a matter of having the power to fight Witches or running out and being helpless, you need to recharge!

Sayaka rejects Homura’s advice, who only comments about how Sayaka’s Soul Gem must be at its limit and tosses a- Grief Seed! Thank you Homura, that’s just what is ne

Oh for fucks sake, Sayaka! Stop being so goddamn self-sacrificing and take it, don’t just kick it down the ramp! You will run out of magic, be unable to heal yourself from your reckless fighting, and die. Get it through your skull!

Yeah, Homura didn’t like that. Even scrunched up her mouth.

“Don’t be a fool. You’re in no position to be questioning anyone’s help right now. Or do you simply hate being rescued that much?”

Damn, Urobuchi really doesn’t like the self-sacrificing hero type, does he? Sayaka’s had nothing but bad stuff happen since she started, and now the character who’s going to basically summon a demon for more power is sounding pretty reasonable.

Now Sayaka’s saying her Heroic Creed from the after the last episode’s credits, about how she’ll be a different kind of Magical Girl. Good words, but you’ve got to take care of yourself to back them up.

To which Homura can only say “You are going to die.”

“So what if I die.” Aw. Aw Sayaka, no. “It just means I won’t be able to kill witches anymore.”

Ok, fine. If appealing to your own self-preservation isn’t working, how about these two points:

-You are completely neglecting all of the Witches you could kill in the future, all the lives that you would save, in order to go all out against the Witches and Familiars right now. If you really want to save as many Muggles as possible, to go to the extreme of “The Needs of the Many outweigh the Needs of the Few”, then you have to recognize that the lives you save now fighting recklessly cannot possibly measure up to all the lives you will save in the future if you just exercise a modicum of restraint

-If you die, Madoka will cry. Madoka will cry because of your foolishness. Don’t make Madoka cry.

If you define yourself as being “of use” or “not of use”, then recognize that you are loosing effectiveness as a Witch Hunter with this self-destructive behavior. Snap out of it!

So what if you “can’t” defeat Witches right now? You did pretty damn well against the one in the factory that almost killed Madoka and Hitomi, and you’re just starting out! Get some training under your belt and you’ll be a great successor to Mami. But not like this.

Homura can only ask “Why? All I want is to save you.” Aw, so she’s seeing Sayaka as someone to help again, after the whole “Competition for Grief Seeds” thing.

“Why can’t you trust me?” Um. Well, you kinda threatened Madoka’s family and knocked Sayaka out that one time, so…

Sayaka’s so out of it she can’t even come up with a reason that she can’t trust Homura. Other that that somehow, she knows she’s a liar?

“By looking at your eyes, I can tell you’ve given up on everything.” That she’s speaking hollow words, that even now she says she wants to help but it’s not what she’s really thinking. But she won’t fool Sayaka!... yup, Sayaka’s slipping. She needs Madoka-encouragement, stat.

Homura flips her hair and-

“You do realize that you’re just making Madoka suffer more and more?”

Hey, she’s using my second point! Lets see if it works at all.

Nope, Sayaka just says that it has nothing to do with her. Right, after your outburst at her, and the fact that she’s your best friend? Suuure it doesn’t.

“You’re wrong. Everything has to do with her.”

Bwuh? Where did this come from? Are you worried that Sayaka’s brooding will get Madoka to make a Contract, and pose a risk of getting the Super Grief Seed?

Um. Homura just transformed into Magical Girl Mode. Why did she do that?

Um. Homura just admitted that she has no desire at all to save Sayaka. She just doesn’t want Madoka to have to watch Sayaka destroy herself?

Is this Homura’s twisted “Non-Magical Girls are to be protected as best able, other Magical Girls are competition” logic?

“If you refuse my help here, there is no recourse for you but to

Oh no. no no no.

die.”

No no no NO. Sayaka. Transform. Fight back. Run away. DO SOMETHING.

“If you will make Madoka grieve more than she has…”

Running? Is Madoka showing up. Oh crap, Madoka’s going to see Homura kill Sayaka, isn’t she?

“...then I…”

Raised hand.

“...will kill you…”

Bright purple light.

“...here and now. Sayaka Miki.”

Run. Run run RUN!

Homura pulled back? What?

KYOKO!

I am so happy to see you! Character development, yes!

Kyoko the Hero yells at Sayaka to run, who… slowly gets up and shuffles off. Ok, at least she’s moving?

As for you, Homura, what the hell? Get out of that armchair, you can trade seats with Kyoko after that stunt you almost pulled.

Kyoko’s yelling at Homura now, who only says to let go of her. Oh? Oh! If Kyoko’s holding onto the MST, then she can’t use her teleportation!

But she can still do something with her shield?

Oh shit! Grenade! Kyoko quite reasonably leaps back. And that’s all Homura needs to vanish before sudden explosion.

Aw damn, it was just a flash-bang. I mean, still, ouch, but I could have sworn it looked like a classic frag grenade. I must be out of practice with shooters.

And she’s gone. Hopefully Sayaka got far enough away.

Ok good, looks like she got on a train. Although she’s having to listen to two dumbasses who are probably wearing fedoras. Strange art style, everything just black and white…

“You just can’t treat women like rational human beings.” Oh shut up.

Wait, when did Sayaka stand up?

“Hey, tell me more about her.”

Um, Sayaka?

Ok, um. Sayaka, they’re just idiots, there’s no need to go too far…

Listen, these two jerks are scum, they are not part of the world you’ve been protecting. Don’t let them spoil your view of the world.

Sayaka? Sayaka, what is happening? Why are you getting all squiggly?

Aw crap. Her magic’s finally going, isn’t it?

Madoka’s still looking for Sayaka, walking by the river.

Kyubey

. Who just appeared from the shadow of a lamppost. Was it there earlier, or is this confirmation Bunny-Cat can shadow travel?

It asks if Madoka is mad with him too. And instead of saying no, our All-Loving Heroine asks that if she was, if it would turn Sayaka back human. Damn, now you’re on even Madoka’s List, Kyubey.

Kyubey claims that it’s beyond its power to do that. Sure it is, I’m pretty sure it just doesn’t want to give up a Magical Lunch Lady any sooner than it has to.

But

Oh no

Madoka, NO.

Madoka is talking about how Kyubey once told her she could be an incredibly powerful Magical Girl.

No. No no no. Don’t do it, Madoka. We’ll talk her down, hook her up with Kyoko, anything other than that.

Kyubey is going on about how “incomprehensibly powerful” Madoka would be if she unlocked her Protagonist Powers, probably the strongest being in the show. I mean, world.

“If I had made the contract with you…”

Madoka, NO! Sayaka would have made the contract for her own Wish and to help others regardless, do not blame yourself for that!

What’s this? Kyubey doesn’t understand how Madoka’s potential could be so great? It’s on a scale that theoretically shouldn’t even be possible?

(Shades of Tephi’s “That’s not how charts work”)

Will we ever get an answer for this?

“I want someone to come explain it as much as you do.” Ergh. And now I’m torn between finding out and keeping the information away from Bunny-Cat.

So the power that Madoka could unleash could twist reality, or whatever? So her Wish could, I dunno, bring someone back from the dead? (Bring Mami back)

What, you’re saying that Madoka could “even become the god of this world”?

Wait. I’m seeing possibilities here.

If Madoka could really be that powerful, more so than any MG…

I’m picturing a world where Magical Girls are known to exist, where they don’t have to hide their powers. Maybe they could find a way to get Muggles to see Witches and stay away, recognize the threat. The Magical Girl Contract could be understood, and people who can actually give informed consent could make the choice to create Soul Gems and protect the people. (sudden mental image of cops in Magical Girl outfits, ha. Or can only women make the Contract?)

And over it all, Magical Girl Madoka Kaname, leading the growing Magical Girl movement as a team of modern-day superheroines.

Please tell me that’s where this story is going. And not that Urobuchi is going to stop all over my hopes and dreams.

Enough power to do things that Kyubey can’t or won’t do? Like grant Wishes and bring people back? (Bring Mami Back) Even turn Sayaka human again? Kyubey says that it would be child’s play for her (reinforcing my belief that he could turn her back, he just doesn’t want to).

Ergh. This is… if Madoka could really have that power…

Would it be worth trading her soul for? Or at the very least moving it outside her body?

Madoka says that it would. For Sayaka.

Well. Eight episodes into a twelve-episode show. I guess that it’s about time the main character came into her own power.

Madoka will do it. Make her into a mag

WHAT

WHAT

BUNNY-CAT IS SWISS CHEESE

WHAT

Kyubey is dead. Kyubey is dead and Madoka will never be a magical girl and Mami will stay dead and Sayaka will turn evil and

What

Homura?! What the hell?!

You just fucking killed Bunny-Cat! He was a jerk, but Madoka was about to get her powers! You just screwed Sayaka over, for what? Because you don’t want the competition?!

Oh for- this wasn’t about self-sacrifice, you psycho. Madoka was about to unlock enough power to make things better in this show. You of all people should understand that!

Ok, what the hell? I get that you consider Muggles like Madoka innocent, but you’re getting rather illogical about this. For the potential good that she could do, I think that knowingly putting her soul in a rock isn’t that bad.

What. Homura is crying. What. Why is the Vulcan showing emotion.

She’s babbling about how so many people would grieve if Madoka died.

Homura… are you…?

You’ve been trying to protect Madoka from the life of a Magical Girl. At first I saw it as wanting to prevent competition, then trying to guard the innocent little Muggle from the danger. But you were trying to protect Madoka specifically? Why would you do that, when it conflicts with your behavior?

“Have the two of us… met somewhere before…?”

Are we FINALLY going to get a damn explanation for the Vision? Like, Homura saved Madoka from a Labyrinth before and wiped her mind, or whatever?

Homura’s not saying. So Madoka’s leaving to find Sayaka.

...damn it. I almost got some damn answers here, but nope! Urobuchi is trolling me.

Instead of answers, we’re left with a bullet-riddled Kyubey, a crying Homura, and a running Madoka. And I wish I understood how we got here.

Whoa, what?!

“You knew there was no point in doing that.”

Kyubey?! You’re alive?

What the hell is that image, that silhouette balancing on the fence with red eyes.

“I have countless spares, of course, but making me use them up for no reason like this… It’s a waste.”

...what.

So Kyubey’s alive, and

OH GOD is it eating the corpse? Itself? What?

KANAYA: I Suddenly Dont Understand Anything And Am Currently Casting Sincere Doubt On The Laughable Insinuation That I Or Anyone Else Ever Actually Did For Even A Single Moment

Kyubey is a clone or whatever or what?

Homura’s gotten back to her feet and resumed her Mysterious Transfer Student attitude.

“That’s the second time you’ve killed me.”

Really? Was the first offscreen, or did I miss it?

“That was Time Magic, wasn’t it?”

Time Magic?

TIME MAGIC?!

“You’re not from this timeline, are you?”

YOU GUYS

HOMURA IS A TIME TRAVELER

THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

-She knows Madoka from an alternate timeline that Madoka somehow got a glimpse of

-She’s seen all this happen before, knows where to show up and how to act to prevent things

-She could have gotten her powers from Kyubey, just not this Kyubey

-She’s fighting with the experience of two runs as as Magical Girl

-She’s acting so cold and detached because these are just counterparts of people she knew in her own timeline

-Her special ability isn’t teleporting, it’s pausing time and moving somewhere else before it resumes

That makes sense now! There’s still so much about this show that doesn’t make sense, but at least that does!

But it boils down to the fact that Homura knows what Kyubey was doing the whole time, coercing these girls into transferring their souls and becoming Magical Lunch Ladies.

...yeah, I guess that does sound pretty out there. No wonder she didn’t just outright say what it was up to.

Kyubey is being remarkable chill for recently learning his opponent has time-travel knowledge. I guess it’s pretty confident that it’s already succeeded, and even though Homura stopped him before Madoka could Contract, if it can replace bodies then it’s only a matter of time before it can catch up with Madoka and finish the deal.

But Homura is adamant that she won’t let things to according to Kyubey’s plan.

“Or should I say, ‘Incubator’?”

Incubator? What does…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Kyubey’s been storing the Grief Seeds.

Kybey’s always been around when a Witch shows up.

Son of a bitch. I kept on going on about some sort of Anti-Kyubey, who was creating Witches the same way that Kyubey was creating Magical Girls.

But if Kyubey was ‘incubating’ the Grief Seeds, planting the Grief Seeds…

Kyubey is Anti-Kyubey!

And if it’s been the one planting the Seeds…

Homura didn’t plant the hospital Seed, you did!!!

You son of a bitch! You killed Mami!

What, we’re just leaving it at that?! No way, we are going to get that thing to confess and

Oh wait, it’s Sayaka at a train station. Ok good, we found you. Let’s just get you home and talk this out. We need to discuss Operation ‘Kick Kyubey’s Butt’.

Oh hey, Kyoko found her! Guess Madoka’s still on the way. Kyoko takes a seat next to Sayaka and jokingly asks about how long she’s going to keep acting like Batman. Sayaka apologizes for making Kyoko look for her. Which confuses Kyoko. Where’s the brash Ally of Justice that she’s been fighting?

Sayaka says that she just can’t care about anything anymore, that she can’t remember what she thought was worth protecting… yup, this is classic Falling Paladin. Quick, somebody try to kick a puppy in front of her so she gets all “Justice Will Be Upheld” again.

Kyoko’s just chowing down on some potato chips during all this.

Sayaka’s pulled out her Soul Gem, and geez that is looking pretty freaking dark. How much longer before it’s completely empty and she can’t use magic anymore? Now she’s talking about how hope and despair balance back out to zero, throwing Kyoko’s words back at her. Ouch.

Yes, you saved people, Sayaka! Never forget that! But… then you started feeling resentment and hatred. Um. And hurt your best friend.

“For as much happiness as we wish on one person, we can’t help but curse someone else.” Oh come on, that’s not true! There’s… ok, give me a minute, I’m sure I can think of an example where someone doing good didn’t backfire on them in this show…

Ah! Mami saving the person who fell off the building! That was a good act that didn’t hurt her!

Aw no. Don’t cry Sayaka. Look, I know that things seem bad, but we can get past this. You can…

“I was stupid… so stupid.”

Whoa what the hell?

WHAT THE HELL THERE ARE FLASHING LIGHTS AND KYOKO JUST WENT FLYING

Sayaka. Sayaka your Soul Gem is cracking. I am fairly certain that your Soul Gem should not be cracking something that contains a soul should never break

Your Soul Gem just broke

That

That is a Grief Seed

Your Soul Gem just turned into a Grief Seed

What

What

“Sayaka!”

I… what…

Construction site.

“In this country, half-grown women are called “girls”, right?”

No. No no no no NO NO NO

“In that case, it’s appropriate that you, who will one day grow into Witches, should be called ‘Magical Girls’.”

…

what.

...after credits chibi-ish picture of Mami, Homura, Madoka, Sayaka , and that red-eyed ALWAYS SMIRKING MANIPULATIVE LITTLE-

Homura: “Maybe I’m being a fool, but until I know for sure whether she can or can’t be saved, I don’t want to give up.”

Episode 9: I’d Never Allow That To Happen

[boyfriendshua]

vlogger!wonwoo

genre: fluffy fluff

warning(s): like one bad(ish) word

word count: 1,490

a/n: I hope you don’t mind I did this in bullet form! I thought it’d be something cute and short I could write. Thank you for requesting ♡

ok so jeon wonwoo as a vlogger

oh my! hahahahhelp

user jeonwon basically just films his daily life 

he doesn’t need a special theme or planned out adventures because his crazy friends are enough entertainment 

videos of them going ordinary places but being attractive funny as hell

his most viewed video is of him and the other twelve guys going to an amusement park

his second most viewed is of him and the others entering an online gaming tournament just imagine all the screaming and the zoom-ins omg

his third most viewed actually isn’t really what you’d expect but it’s something you watch every day

it’s just wonwoo

sitting in front of the camera in a fluffy sweater and round glasses

and his hair is a little mussed up, as if he had just woken up, and he looked 

so soft and cute but at the same time really hot like wtf 

and the video isn’t him going out and doing stuff

it’s not him testing out new products that he’s been recommended

it isn’t a dumb little skit he and his friends decided to throw together because he didn’t have any ideas for that week

it was simply wonwoo,,, sitting in front of the camera in his living room and talking about his favorite books

he’s got a little stack of books resting against his thigh on the couch cushions

and he’ll pick each one up, giving each one attention, telling the camera about why he likes it and the lessons they teach, or how they were able to whisk him away to a world of adventure or knowledge

and he’s just 

he looks so soft and happy while rambling on about his readings

and his voice is so nice to listen to,, the deepness of it and the soft sound of him turning the pages every now and then it’s honestly like an asmr

but anyways 

wonwoo is quite popular and has a solid fanbase, even has some of his own merch that some of the others helped him design can his fanbase be called papa jeons pLEASE

but despite all this, although he appreciates and loves every single one of his subscribers and whatnot

he never does anything that many social media stars would do in order to gain followers, subscribers, the likes

he wants people to like him for him, not for a giveaway or because he promotes things without being asked to

he just wants to live his life with his friends and he has no problem with letting y’all see what they’re up to, but that’s about the extent of what he does

honestly he only started the channel because he likes to have memories of things he does on video somewhere safe where he can watch and reminisce 

he wasn’t expecting people to see, much less like his videos

yet here he is

and honestly, he wouldn’t change a thing

(hi i wasn’t sure if you wanted romance in this but i’ll add some in this section just to be safe)

okay hello Y/N this is where you come in

so

Y/N? a youtuber??? more likely than you think!!!!!!!

so, like mr papa jeon over here im crying

your channel also doesn’t exactly have a theme either

you kinda just do whatever your subscribers suggest that you do

go raid a shop for the weirdest snacks you can find? Okay.

uploading some cringy middle-school/high school stuff? you’ve made many mistakes!!!

competing with a friend for the ugliest clothes you can find? for sure.

one week taking care of a fake baby doll? you suffered but yes.

taking a walk through a haunted house that you actually had to fly out to? actually no not yet but maybe.

the point is you got some good af content you feel me ok

but wonwoo’s favorite video is none of these, though he does find it funny to see you screaming because you ate something too spicy or slipping and falling into your pool at the very beginning of the video

wonwoo’s favorite video of yours is only one and a half minutes long

your close friend had a short film project to do for their class and had asked you to be their model

so the video is just a collage of clips of you out in town, at the beach, enjoying the day, laughing with your friend

and wonwoo just loves watching it so much, seeing you so happy brings a warm feeling to his chest and his cheeks

needless to say, you’re his youtube crush

and imagine the way wonwoo’s heart backflipped when you mentioned him in a q&a lmaooo video you did 

“‘have you heard of jeon wonwoo?’ of course, I love his videos.”

paused the video, sat his laptop on the floor beside his couch, and lay back down staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide for like three whole minutes

he just couldn’t believe it

it was only half an hour later before like soonyoung was bursting through his front door, screaming at him to watch your latest video

another half hour later he was on a groupcall with like half of them as they convinced him to send you a message over twitter and ask for a collab or something, because even if he didn’t mention you much, they knew about how much he liked you

wonwoo’s shaky fingers as he hesitantly types out a message to you

it’s soonyoung who hits the send button because wonwoo was too nervous to do it himself

soonyoung ends up getting smacked

anyways he messages you telling you he’d seen your latest video and wanted to know if you’d like to collab sometime soon

and you’re like omg what is this real am i being pranked

but you click on his profile and see the little verified check so ur like well heck

y’all end up meeting at a cafe a week later to discuss ideas because y’all suddenly conveniently live in the exact same city i

wonwoo was a little shy and nervous when you first introduced yourselves and you could say the same for yourself, but after talking for a little while

you drifted from the topic of collab ideas and ended up just talking about anything and everything

wonwoo paid for your drink(s) as well as his and you ended up sitting and talking for a good few hours, all nervousness fading away into excitement and eagerness to get to know each other better 

and you were shocked when you realized the sun was already setting

so you said your goodbyes and double checked that you had swapped numbers before departing, but ended up texting long into the night as well

your collab video was posted a week later, a little series of mini physical challenges that lowkey neither of you could do but you had fun nonetheless

so 

slams fists down on table

the romance

nobody knew that you and wonwoo were dating

like,, y’all are shockingly scarily good at keeping things on the dl 

it even took the rest of the boys and your close friends like a month or two to figure it out

“seriously, wonwoo, you still haven’t made a move yet?”

and wonwoo just snickers

“...”

“...”

“waiT A SECOND-”

but yes the fans are oblivious, though there are a lot that ship you two

it’s when your six month anniversary is coming up that you decide to let it go public

and so you both take all the behind the scenes footage you have

all the clips between activities you did that you had to crop out

all the times that you’d have to pause because you wanted a kiss or two

or because wonwoo wanted to give you a hug because you’re just so darn cute

or when you’d stare into each other’s eyes and tell the other how much you love each other

it was all pieced together in a short little video that wasn’t too excessive, but it showed just enough to display how happy you were together

papa jeons and whatever your fanbase is called is now one big happy family

and videos went from simple little challenges and whatnot

to cute little dates, milestones as a couple

wonwoo took you on vacation to an island for your one year anniversary and you bet he caught every moment of you swimming with the dolphins

even short little 30 second uploads of him holding you on his chest after a night out

or him whispering to the camera as he figures out how to prepare a nice breakfast in bed for you while you’re asleep down the hallway

all in all i’m real soft y’all are like the social media goals that every person like ever has i love y’all everyone loves y’all we gEt it it’s fine

→ request | masterlist

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Sorry for the bother but may I get a Queen and BoRhap ship please? I have that awful sense of direction, I got lost in a restaurant. I also will never admit publicly that I like someone. Hate to be told what to do and people prying into my life. Always calm and would never be rude to people. A caring and a friendly person. Ambitious. I'm 158 cm tall, a bit chubby. Metalhead. A bit of a tomboy. Major introvert. Hard worker. Overthinker. Open-minded. I'm good at learning new languages.

figured i should get one of these bad boys out of the way tonight before i rlly dive into my homework so here goes

i LOVE that you love metal i fuck with pantera so hard idk if thats the kind of metal you’re talking about but i’ve also seen FFDP and korn live so that was fucking unreal hi everyone yes i have the broadest taste in music ever sorry

ANYWAYS ships r below the cut :^)

For Queen, I ship you with Roger Taylor!

I almost said Brian, but I think you two would be too alike to last. However, you and Roger? A match made in heaven.

Roger genuinely loves that you’re a metalhead - he’s always up on trends, so the fact that you’ve got an in on the metal scene gives him the insight he needs to keep up with what’s hot and what’s not.

Also, Roger would love that you’re shorter than him - I mean, he probably constantly gets hell for being shorter than Brian, so that fact that you’re much shorter than him would be a source of great enjoyment/relief for him.

When you first met, you were in the same class as Roger, and it was a discussion-based forum class that you absolutely loathed - a group of maybe 20 of you, sitting in a circle, discussing what went wrong and what went right in your labs earlier in the week - it wasn’t required, but you got extra credit, and you always wanted to be able to improve on your grade if at all possible. 

And since Roger didn’t want to piss off his parents with low marks while he was supposedly off at college ‘studying,’ he showed up too.

Roger was the only person that made the class bearable - he sat next to you, and he was constantly peeking over at your notes, chuckling when you wrote things like ‘instructor has no earthly idea what they’re talking about’ ‘this is wrong’ and ‘how does he even have a degree to teach this’

One time, Roger was so amused by your notes that he laughed out loud, interrupting a discussion between another student and the instructor, who looked at him and asked him to say what he thought, if he was so amused by what they apparently got wrong.

He glanced at you, hopeless - he hadn’t been paying attention, but you had, so you nonchalantly wrote ‘control group is not tablet and water - just water,’ then underlined it a few times. Roger glanced down, then nodded imperceptibly before folding his hands together and leaning over the desk.

“You lot are talking as if the control group is the antacid tablet AND the water - it’s just the water.” You marveled at how confident he sounded as he said so, and his blue eyes quickly met yours, sending you a charming grin before he was called upon again.

“The control group is the tablet fully dissolved in water, mate.” The student who had been bantering with the instructor was clearly upset Roger had insulted their intelligence, so they decided to challenge his.

“Actually, he’s right,” you chimed in, your voice quieter. Usually, you’d only speak when called upon in this class, but you knew Roger couldn’t bullshit his way through this one completely. “The control group is technically the water, untouched by the tablet. It’s affected by no variables, making it the control group.”

It was Roger’s turn to marvel at your sudden burst of confidence, and after class, he caught up to you in the hall to thank you. He’d always thought you were kind of cute, so this gave him his excuse to talk to you outside of class.

“Hey, I owe you one for what just happened back there,” he said, matching your pace as you headed for the front door of the building. Although he had class immediately after, he made a snap decision to skip so he could go wherever you were headed.

“Oh, it was no big deal, they’re morons,” you replied, a rosy blush creeping up on your cheeks when you glanced up at him, finding his gaze to be directly on you. When he held open the door for you, you thanked him, and he continued to walk with you as you headed back towards the dorms where you were living. 

“I’m Roger, if you didn’t know,” he introduced, holding out his hand for you to shake as you walked, and you shook his hand gently, smiling at him. “We should study together sometime - you seem like you know a hell of a lot more about this than I do. Actually, are you busy right now?”

And that’s where it all started.

Your ambition and drive to learn satiates Roger - both of you feed off of each other’s energy, constantly teaching each other new things and always trying to participate in new experiences.

But for smart people, you and Roger (especially Roger) can have your moments of being airheaded. What would life be without those moments anyways? 

If you had a good sense of direction and Roger wouldn’t be so stubborn about neglecting his glasses, you would have never ended up in book club in Lower Manhattan instead of an actual club.

It was one of their later US tours, and Roger had flown you out to NYC to see them play Madison Square Garden. Afterwards, you’d opted to go out alone, and it was a nice night out, so you two took off in your rental car with the top down, enjoying the only slightly smelly NYC air and the sound of relentlessly honking cars. 

Quickly, you found yourselves lost as you tried to follow the directions the manager had given you, which was a pointless attempt. You were humorously exasperated, but your calm nature let you continue to be more amused than anything.

“Roger, please just let me turn around and go back to the venue - you know I’m bad with directions.”

“Absolutely not, I’d rather die,” he dismissed, making you laugh in slight exasperation as you stopped at a stoplight, dropping your hands into your lap. “Now where are we going next, sweets?”

“I don’t know, Rog,” you groaned, holding your head in your hands. “What does that street sign say?”

“I dunno, it’s blurry to me,” he grumbled, making you laugh again at his horribly serious need for glasses. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m crippled.”

“Did you bring your glasses when you left for the US?” you asked pointedly, and Roger nodded furiously as you pressed on the gas when the light turned green, advancing forward towards God knows where. “Then why were they on the nightstand when I left a couple days ago?”

“Imposters!” he joked, distracting you and making you laugh as you shook your head. When you were unmoved, he leaned over the center console and pressed a noisy, wet kiss to your cheek, making you shrug him off and laugh. “I’m just taking the piss, please don’t put me in time out for forgetting them. I love you.”

“Uh huh... forgetting,” you replied, using a playfully disbelieving tone before you sighed and looked around at the street signs, spotting one makeshift sign on the sidewalk that had an arrow and said ‘The Club’ and nothing else. “Well, that’s convenient. The Club. Let’s stop there.”

When you finally made it to the door, you walked in hesitantly. It didn’t seem like the type of building to be housing a dance club, but Roger was all for the simplicity of the name, so he led you in, quickly realizing that you were not in a dance hall, but a library.

“Oh my god, Roger,” you whispered, looking around at the stacks of books before meeting eyes with a group of middle-aged ladies who were holding copies of A Clockwork Orange. “This is a book club. They’re reading A Clockwork Orange. We’ve got to go.”

“Ooh, I love that book!” he said out loud, approaching the ladies without a hint of fear in him and turning your nerves all the way up to 11 as you reluctantly followed, still laughing to yourself at Roger’s unbelievable extroversion. “Come on, Y/N! Now ladies, what do we think of Dim and Georgie so far?”

And for BoRhap, I ship you with Joe Mazzello!

You’re a tomboy? Joe genuinely nuts for tomboys, for lack of better wording. 

He loves taking you to baseball games, whether they are for the Yankees or for the team that his brother coaches. You don’t mind the down and dirty nature of the game - after all, you aren’t exactly the ribbons and bows type. 

Speaking of baseball, you two met on the set of Undrafted. You were actually an old friend of Duke’s who lived in the area where they were filming - Joe had cast him as Ty, a tense character, and Duke had brought you along, saying he needed you as an extra body to sit in the crowd.

But really, he’d brought you along so you could zen him out when he needed to relax on breaks - your calmness always helped him chill, and he knew from the script that quite a few of the actors could use your balance when they were filming the high intensity scenes.

Joe was probably the most intensely angry character in the movie, and you noticed that very early on. You were seated near their dugout, pretending to text on an outdated Blackberry, when a bat came flying at the fence in front of you, making you jump slightly as it hit the chain links and bounced to the ground, rolling away from you.

“Sorry, bad aim,” Joe grumbled as he came to grab the bat, still partially in character, and you couldn’t help but send him a smile as he straightened back up, bat in hand.

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” The mellow sound of your voice intrigued Joe, and he gave you a slow nod before smiling a bit and turning back to go do the shot again. In fact, your mellowness was infectious, and exactly what he needed - the next shot, he absolutely nailed his intended target with the bat.

Once everyone had decided to take a lunch break, Duke came over to join you on the small set of bleachers, shaking some dust out of his hair before replacing the ball cap.

“What’s good for grub around here?” Duke asked, sitting down next to you. As you opened your mouth to answer, you heard a pair of baseball cleats crunching over gravel as they jogged nearer, then stopped in front of the two of you.

“Where are you two headed? Can I bum a ride?”

In front of you stood Joe, far calmer now, and far more attractive when he was up close. 

“That’s up to Y/N here,” Duke replied, standing up to join Joe and helping you off the bleachers. Now that you were standing, Joe was easily taller than you, and you almost wished you were at eye level again due to the bleachers.

“Y/N? I’m Joe.” He held out a hand as he introduced himself, and you shook it gently, giving him the same smile you’d given him not too long ago and gaining a goofy grin in return.

From then on, you became Joe’s right hand set therapist for when he got too into his angry scenes, and he became your random baseball facts plug once he found out you had at least some interest in the game.

Joe’s extroverted nature balances well with your tendency for introversion, but sometimes, it causes small clashes. Thankfully, you’re so calm and have such a mellowing effect on Joe, clashes never escalate to the point where you’re actually arguing. 

Your overthinking also sometimes clashes with his impulsive tendencies. He’s a bit of a serial Instagram poster, while you have to stare at your posts for 20 minutes before you reword the caption and then post it after proofreading twice. 

One time, you’d been listening to some of your dearly beloved metal when Joe had come in, phone raised as he took a video of himself headbanging to the music, turning so he could get you in the frame. When you waved him off and covered your face with the other hand, laughing, he pouted playfully before ending the video.

There was a moment of silence as you heard him clicking away at the keyboard, then he joined you on the couch, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side gently. “Work, work, work. Whatcha working on now?”

You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, and a small smile formed on your lips as he gave you an affectionate kiss on the head. 

“Just replying to some emails.”

“The grind never stops!” Joe then pulled out his phone again, texting something to Ben on Instagram that intrigued you.

“Why was Ben asking about me?” you questioned, sitting up a bit as Joe smiled sheepishly and hid his phone from you.

“Definitely not because I put that video on my story.”

“Joe! We’ve talked about this,” you laughed, sinking back down into a slumped position as you shook your head. “I swear, I’m going to delete Instagram off of your phone one day and Facebook Live the meltdown.”

“Please, at least Instagram Live it. Who uses Facebook?” You rolled your eyes at the exaggerated haughty tone that he took on as he said so, then raised an eyebrow when a notification from Chace Crawford also popped up. “Oh, no, your boyfriend is messaging me!” he gasped dramatically, opening the notification.

You snickered at that, shaking your head again and watching as he read the message. 

When he was done, he made a weird look before pulling up the camera and starting to record a live video. You barely had time to react and cover your face as you laughed, Joe putting on a serious expression. “Joe, you’re fired,” you mumbled, holding your laptop over your face as Joe switched to a pout. Chace popped in first to watch, followed by Ben and Gwil.

“I’ve just been fired as resident boyfriend and now I think Chace is moving in. Can anyone please let me bum on their couch? Ben??”

You giggled and scooted away from Joe as he talked to the growing number of people on his live, lamenting that you were kicking him out. At one point, he fell against your side, whining as he read Chace’s comment.

“Chace says he loves you and to come over. Your response?” 

“On my way,” you mumbled as you went back to your emails, barely loud enough for the camera, but the chat went nuts when some people caught it, Joe zooming in on his face. 

“Chace, she hates you and says she never wants to see you again.”

“Not what I said,” you gently corrected, grinning as you kept yourself just out of frame of his camera.

“Yes, it is. I’ve just decided it is... Love you.” He paused for a moment, looking up at you expectantly, and you raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and his phone. “Say it back,” he whispered, still loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” you resolved, closing your laptop and sitting it on the coffee table as Joe complained loudly, calling after you in a mock sad voice.

“Say it back!”

[evans-dream]

All You Never Say 

Pairing: Tom x OC

Word Count: 2k 

Chapter: “Shivers” 1/ ?

Summary: Isabelle was baffled at both of them, sighing as she decided to give up and head for her own room. Her eyes met Tom’s as she walked up the stairs, an intriguing look was on his face as he talked on the phone, there was almost a roughness to it which made her frown. 

He diverted his eyes after a few seconds, focusing back on his order and a weird feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know if she should push for it, maybe Harrison was right and Tom was just tired. But she knew him too well, if it were for any other instance, she’d confront him about it right away, this time though, something was stopping her. She didn’t quite understand why she felt weird about this, or maybe she was imagining things. She too was very tired.

or the Friends to lovers AU where Tom’s crushing on his best friend, who’s conveniently his personal assistant and well, things work out for the best and for the worst. 

        Isabelle unlocked the door and walked inside the large house, sighing deeply as she removed her heels. The lights were still on and she could hear the television playing in the distance, alerting her that the boys were still awake. No surprise there though, it was not even past ten in the evening now, but her soirée felt like it had lasted an eternity.

“B, is that you?” She heard one of them yell from the living room, voice muffled by whatever they were munching on. She loosened her short, brown hair from its intricate bun, ruffling it around.

“Yeah.” She winced at the cold contact of her toes on the floor, still very painful from the heels, which were not even worth it given how her night went. Actually, the time she spent getting ready was a whole waste of energy and makeup. “The taxi dropped me off.”

“What about Joshua?” She walked in the living room and couldn’t help the smile on her face as she took in the view. Tom and Harrison were wrapped up in fuzzy blankets, eyes fixated on the massive TV screen that reflected a blue hue on their faces.

“Joshua is hopefully back to his own home now,” Isabelle replied, motioning at them to move to leave her a spot on the couch. She leaned closer to Tom since he had the popcorn bowl in possession and took a handful.

“You came back early though; it didn’t go well?”  Harrison asked and she grimaced, her awful date flashing back in her mind.

“Nope, he was a real dick.” She sighed and Tom chuckled, eyeing Harrison. “Very boring too, who would have thought. That’ll teach me about going on dates with my teenage celebrity crushes.”

“You have to start lowering your expectations, not everyone can be me,” Tom replied with a grin and she shoved his shoulder.

“Thankfully.” She rolled her eyes while Tom faked offense, flicking a popcorn in her direction. “Anyway, I seriously doubt I’ll ever even find someone.”

“What makes you think that?” Harrison asked, him and Tom sharing a look that Isabelle was completely oblivious too.

“As Holls said, my expectations are too high.” She shrugged. “I want...stability, you know? I got to know the person is in it for real. Also, I’m not into dickheads.”

“Was he really that bad?” Tom wondered, voice unsure. “When I met him at Another Man’s launch party, he was pretty cool.”

“He spent an hour talking about how awful his ex is, Thomas.” She replied dryly and Tom couldn’t help the snort that came out of his lips. “Certainly did crush my 13-year-old self’s heart, this is not how I fantasized our first date to be.”

“Alright, so you had one bad date. Doesn’t mean you’re going be lonely forever, darling.” Tom replied, patting her head and Isabelle sighed.

“Maybe. Anyway, tonight made me realize how busy I am and I genuinely do not have time to waste on men now.” She stood up from the couch, replacing her red dress as to not flash anyone. “I’m off to sleep. And you should too, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am. Goodnight.” Harrison piped and Tom smiled.

“Goodnight, B.” The moment she was out of sight, Tom snapped his head to look at his best mate, agitated. “She said-”

“I know Tom; I was literally right here,” Harrison whispered and Tom sighed, slumping in his seat. “But hey, at least nothing more’s going to happen with Josh.”

“Yeah, but what if she decides guys like us aren’t worth it?”

“You can’t know that. And like she said, there’s too much going on now to focus on relationships so just…have fun, I don’t know mate.” Harrison laughed, holding his duvet tighter around himself and trying to focus back on the show they were watching. Tom kept an annoyed frown on his face, mind too preoccupied to even concentrate on the plot.

“You suck, H.” He uttered, regretting it seconds later when he felt his friend’s foot collide with his arm. “Oi!”

“Fuck off, Tom.”

The next day was a busy one, Isabelle still feeling off after her failure of an evening and her dampened mood was starting to get contagious. But Tom had to push away those thoughts, focusing instead on his actual job and waiting for the director’s, Jon Watts, cue. They had been doing this scene several times already and he was glad his mask was hiding his tired expression.

“Action.” He heard Jon say before he felt his harness lower him to the ground, head upside down. He dodged a few rehearsed punches and gesticulated around as he said his lines. “Cut! Alright, Tom, that was the one.” He could hear everyone clapping around him and pulled off the mask, breathing in the fresh air deeply with a grin.

“Christ, my head was literally about to explode.” He chuckled while the stuntman helped him stand upright, still remaining a few feet in the air. Both Harrison and the director laughed at his words, eyes intently focused on a screen.

“Then imagine how Tobey must have felt filming that scene with MJ,” Jon replied, stepping closer to where Tom was trying to keep his balance in the air, eyebrow raised in question.

“Wait, for which scene?”

“The spider-man kiss. Both of them actually, apparently it was a pain in the ass to shoot.” Jon continued, now focused on something Harrison and his producer were showing him.

“Is that why you don’t want me to do one.” Tom chuckled, eyeing the small crowd of people working around him. He spotted Isabelle appear in the studio, several coffees, and documents in hand. “How long am I supposed to stay in the air, Jon?”

“A few more minutes, Tom, we have to set everything for the rest of the fight scene.” The director replied, already leaving him to focus on other details.

“Alright.” Tom sighed, continuing to balance himself and he wondered if he could do a flip in his harness. He gave himself a big push and laughed in surprise as he managed to rotate himself successfully, ready to try it again.

“Don’t tire yourself too much, Spidey.” He recognized Isabelle’s voice and looked down at her extended hands holding his tea and a sandwich.

“Thanks, B.” He drank a couple sips of the hot drink and chewed on his lunch. Working on set was tiring and he was absolutely famished.

“Of course. Why are you still hanging in the air?” Tom pointed at Jon with his sandwich, Isabelle’s eyes glancing at the director yelling orders at the extras. He leaned down to give her back his tea and lunch, but lost his balance and ended up upside down again.

“Shit.” He tried to pull himself up, having no force to do so while Isabelle giggled by his side. “Help me!” He could feel the blood rush to his face, but still grinned at the situation. She snorted, poking his forehead to make him swing back and forth and he looked at her in annoyance. “You’re the worst assistant ever.”

“Don’t make me push you harder.” She smirked, looking down at him since his eyes were levelled with her neck. “You’re spider-man, you should enjoy being like this.”

“Isa, I swear to God-”

“Tom, if you really wanted to do the spider-man kiss, you could’ve just told me.” Jon interrupted them with a chuckle and both snapped their heads to look at him. Tom could feel himself blush, thankfully hidden by his already flushed cheeks given his position while Isabelle stepped back, pursing her lips into a smile.

“N-No, we were not, we weren’t…,” He chuckled nervously while Jon motioned at someone to come pull the actor back up.

“I was just kidding,” Watts replied with a laugh, thanking Isabelle for the coffee she was handing him. Still feeling startled, Tom glanced at his friend and he could feel his heart flip when she winked at him, hazel eyes twinkling with malice.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly and Tom moaned in happiness when he was finally lowered to the ground. Flying on set was fun, of course, but after a full day of swinging around, being back on earth was heavily welcomed. After changing back into his normal clothes, he joined the rest of the crew on set to hear Jon’s report of the day and listened carefully for what was up to come in the following days. Tomorrow would be off and he welcomed the break with open arms, they were getting very rare lately and he was exhausted.

Harrison and Isabelle joined him to his car, Isa giving him a quick recap of his schedule for the following week and he thanked heavens that he had her in his life. She was first and foremost his best friend, had been for a quite some time now before deciding to hire her as his assistant. She was doing a leap year in college and wanted to escape her routine, so Tom suggested she’d come work with him for a little while. He had several movies to film this year and desperately needed help since Harrison was growing in his own lane, working as an assistant in production. And Isabelle was incredibly good at the job, she knew Tom well, was organized and honestly, everything he was looking for.

His only issue was that the teeny, fleeting crush he had first developed when they met only grew the longer time he spent with Isabelle, and now that they basically spent every waking hour together and they knew each other more than ever before, it was getting harder and harder to suppress certain…feelings. Thankfully she was completely oblivious to it, which was both a blessing and torture for Tom. And also torture for Harrison, poor lad had to listen to Tom’s rants about his growing infatuation for they common best friend and truly felt like he should win a prize for putting up with his shit.

“What are we having for dinner tonight?” Harrison interrupted Tom’s train of thoughts and all eyes turned to Isabelle.

“Whatever you had last night. I’m not cooking again.” She replied dryly, focused on her paperwork and both men grimaced.

“We…had crisps and beers last night,” Tom uttered and she looked up at them, a defeated look on her round face.

“Oh, and popcorn,” Harrison added, glancing at her through the rearview mirror and making her sigh deeply.

“You two genuinely cannot take care of yourselves.” She said with a roll of the eyes. “How you have survived so far is beyond me. Beers and fries, really?” They both gave her a forced grin and she snorted, shaking her head. “We’ll order something I guess; I think it’s Tom’s turn to pay.”

“What? Wasn’t I the one to order last time?”

“No, because H bought us breakfast the morning after.” Harrison chuckled and Tom nudged his shoulder.

“Watch out, bro, I’m driving.”

“Please, Harrison, do not crash this car.”

“Relax, guys, I barely brushed him.”

“Oi, that actually hurt, think I’m going to have a bruise tomorrow.” Tom scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re not, stop talking shit.”

“I am feeling personally victimized.” Their banter was cut short by Isabelle’s phone ringing, startling her. She frowned as she read the caller ID, wondering if she should pick up. Tom glanced at her from the passenger seat, noticing the odd look on her face and curiosity started bubbling up in him.

“Joshua, hi,” Isabelle finally picked up, forcing a kind tone and Tom’s face immediately fell, rolling his eyes as he sat properly back in his seat. A tensed silence could be felt in the car, only broken by Isabelle’s voice. “No, I’m not busy now, I hope you had a safe ride home?”

Tom and Harrison exchanged a look, both now calmed down and discretely trying to listen to what the caller was saying. “Is there something wrong?” She asked Joshua, wondering why he was contacting her after their disastrous date yesterday.

“No, uhm…I just wanted to...To apologize, I guess? For last night.”

“Oh.” She frowned, sensing the slight nervousness in his voice. Well, that was unexpected. They didn’t leave on bad terms per say, but Isa knew she made it clear in her demeanor that she hadn’t enjoyed herself at all and Joshua evidently picked up on her cues.

“Yeah, It was a bad, very bad day…and I let it ruin the mood for the evening and I, yeah…I’m sorry I sucked.” He chuckled and she tried to suppress the grin that was growing on her face.

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” She was more genuine now. “Thanks for apologizing though, that’s very thoughtful.”

Hearing the rest of their conversation, Tom couldn’t help the irritation rising within him at the thought of Joshua calling, and Isabelle’s sudden softer tone. He could sense Harrison quick glances in his direction and tried to calm himself, fists clenched on his lap. She quickly ended the call, shaking her head in disbelief at her short conversation with Joshua, not denying that she liked the change in the situation.

“So, what’s up with him?” Harrison was the first to break the silence, finally parking the car in front of their rented home.

“Oh, he apologized? That was nice.” Isabelle chuckled, picking up her things from the back seat while Tom tried his best not to slam his car door closed. “Then he asked me out again. Said he’d be a better date the second time around.”

“Ain’t that great,” Tom said dryly under his breath and Harrison gave him a quick glare before forcing an interested smile at Isabelle.

“Did you say yes?”  

“Kind of? I’m going to give this a second chance, maybe I judged him too quickly?” She shrugged as they all walked inside the house. “What do you think, Tom?”

“Hmm?” He practically squeaked, the tightest smile pulling at his face as he removed his boots. “What happened to you being too busy for men?” She gave him a strange look at the rudeness of his tone.

“I mean, yeah, that’s still true…But I’m not going to deny myself an opportunity just because I’m too busy?” She could feel a weird tension between her and Tom, not quite understanding it while Harrison wanted nothing but to disappear.

“So, Tom? Pizzas?” He blurted out, trying to divert the subject and the distraction was quickly embraced. Tom nodded, leaving to search for a menu and call the pizza place and Isabelle watched him shuffle his way out, concern wrinkling her face.

She turned to Harrison, gripping his arm before he would also leave the small lobby. “What’s up with him? He sounded a bit weird?” She whispered and Harrison shrugged.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Please,” She scoffed quietly. “He seemed a bit off. Is it about Joshua?”

“What? No,” He brushed off her comment, making a mental note to tell Tom to calm the fuck down next time. “He’s…tired, today was very exhausting.” He left her before she could reply, practically running to get to his room and escape the tense situation.

Isabelle was baffled at both of them, sighing as she decided to give up and head for her own room. Her eyes met Tom’s as she walked up the stairs, an intriguing look was on his face as he talked on the phone, there was almost a roughness to it which made her frown. He diverted his eyes after a few seconds, focusing back on his order and a weird feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know if she should push for it, maybe Harrison was right and Tom was just tired. But she knew him too well, if it were for any other instance, she’d confront him about it right away, this time though, something was stopping her. She didn’t quite understand why she felt weird about this, or maybe she was imagining things. She too was very tired.

Plus, she had a date to get ready for tomorrow, whatever was up with Tom wasn’t going to ruin it, not after giving Josh a second chance. Hopefully, it was going to be way better than the first time.

[kgxiangyu-blog]

ILL-FITTING

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_  ▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭ 0% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 10TH

you are a vulture. the existance of corpses puts you into action. there’s no way to soften up this reality; it is what it is. you are a mere scavenger and today it rings truer than ever. 

MUMBAI INSTITUTIE

the name on your assignment file stare back at you. it’s 3 hours until the soonest flight out. you fill up your wait time by creating constellation between what seems like isolated stars.

mumbai institute → servers are down → within the same city as second site of explosion → one out of for attacked sites → kingsman related celebrations  ↓ three incidents establish a pattern. a fourth solidifies it. ↓ who would know the kingsman had an anniversary coming up? ↓ what are the servers hiding? ↓ who has a grudge with the kingsman?

you’re going unaccompanied this time. you specifically request one handler with tech background to be on standby with you. this situation isn’t something that an entire team is ready to be exposed to. the less that people know, the better.

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭ 0% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 11TH

the premise that stores the servers is blocked off to the public. scanners for student and staff IDs stand at every door. there is a security guard at the mouth of a road leading into campus grounds.  

you present your badge with colored ink and embossed features mapping out lie after lie. the emblem of the four lions perched catches the reader’s eyes. they scan it with scrutiny and criticism.

“IB is assigned to a tech issue?” they ask.

“any matter dealing with homeland security is our business. i can’t disclose anything further than that. they sent me from new delhi as soon as possible.” you deliver your lines with confidence, and just the right amount of ease to make the performance believable. the language and accent flows off your tongue after practicing on the plane. 

you hold out a yellow envelope with no intent on handing it over. “the authorizations issued are contained in here. do you have the clearance to check these?” 

“yes? i mean, no.”

“is there someone around who does?” hold your ground.

“the security chief out on a lunch break.” ( convenient. )

“alright then i’ll wait for your chief. i don’t want to make this hard on you after all.” earn their trust. 

“thank you. i’m just a patroller.” ( convenient. ) “i don’t have the authority to let anybody in or out without clearing it with my chief.” 

“of course, i completely understand that. you’re just doing your job” you put on a smile to warm the mood. “it’s tragic what happened in the city. i heard about it when i got assigned. i hope all of the families are coping well. i wish i could do more for them.”

“it is a tragedy when some people think they can do whatever to other people’s lives like that.”

“i agree. i think it’s commendable that even in the face of a tragedy, people like you are still doing their jobs to the fullest. like keeping an institute safe from outsiders. even people like me.”

you share a short laugh together.

the patroller scratches their head. “not really, no. you flatter me. there’s not much to keep safe nowadays.”

you feel the metaphorical tip of your shovel striking the outer shell of the treasure. “oh?” you feign surprise. “i think you’re being humble. you protect people. that’s very dutiful.”

“no.” they wave their hand. “other than every day cleaning and security staff members, the tech heads haven’t been showing up. they’re taking the servers thing harder than i imagined.”

“really? not a single one shows up?”

“not according to my entry logs.” 

“that’s a shame,” you remark. you check your watch and leave the kind patroller with promises that you’ll come back after lunch time. 

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭ 10% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 11TH – 13TH

your one sided conversations through your ear piece fill the spaces of your hotel. 

“i need you to run recent location checks and bank checks for some names.”

“ramani bhatt. alia desai. arun gupta. pooja patel. [...]”

...

“no strange bank withdraws?”

...

“yes, i understand it’s a lot for you. i realize you’re doing the job for a team of five.”

“can you work through the night?”

...

“you spotted one on a highway traffic cam? which highway was it? okay. got it. i’m looking now. seems like it leads out of northern mumbai.”

“another one going out? well this road specifically leads to the airport. you already looked into it, of course. my bad. so they didn’t fly out.”

“wait, that road. what’s it’s name again? yeah that one. it leads to dharavi. all of the spots we’ve marked circle around this city.”

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▭▭▭▭▭▭▭▭ 20% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 14TH

with the help of your handler, you two find one person who actually made a stop within dharavi. this was a few days ago but you’ll follow any lead that comes. of course, you never ask for others to do something you won’t do. you dawn a simple shirt and shorts in order to blend in with your environment. within a two block radius, you stay up to check out one location after another. 

in the afternoon you notice teens playing soccer for the second day in a row. you wait for the ball to go out of bounds and seize the chance to fetch it for them. “i’m looking for my friends,” you tell the locals. they point down the road when you tell them your ‘friends’ aren’t locals but they pass through a lot. 

“is there something fun down there to visit or something?” an incredulous laugh covers your piqued interest. 

they look at you like you were a naive child for saying something like that. when you check out the area, you understand why. dust blankets over the abandoned apartment complex from top to bottom. five floors worth of rooms with no cameras. or other forms of tech, to tap into means that you have to be creative.

you pull the knob turner on your watch until it comes off completely. the watch face is thick and is made to look cheap. from within, a small droid flies out.

“you got this?” you say to your handler back home. 

the droid whips down the hallway and you place your spectacles over your eyes. everything that the droid sees goes straight into a feed in your glasses and that is relayed back to HQ. floor after floor you see nothing but dirty rooms. it isn’t until the fifth floor that you spot a boarded up room. 

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▬▭▭▭▭▭▭▭ 30% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 15TH

it’s midnight when you grab your equipment and come back. you plug in a usb into whatever computer that can turn on. your handler can remotely access the computer on a shallow basis. they can view what’s on the computer but not necessarily do much else.

that’s where you come in ( regrettably ). 

“so there are huge files that are protected? ––encrypted. there, are you happy now?”

“saying that this is a windows and not a super computer doesn’t mean much to me, but i get what you’re saying. i guess testing every algorithm won’t work.”

“you want me to do what?”

“you know that in the time it takes for you to walk me through things, you can come here and do it yourself, right?”

“you believe in me.” you huff out a soft laugh. “alright. teach me.”

they tell you you need to find a key–– then proceeds to chuckle when you ask if it’s a physical one. they continue on saying that they’re going to send a malware to your email. you plug your phone to the computer and run the malware program.

the program apparently runs through a computer’s memory to see what encryption process was used. by knowing that, then a key to solving the encryption can be obtained. 

...

you doze off for two hours while the program is running. you awaken to check the program, not knowing how to make heads or tails of it. the status bar is still running so you leave it alone. your handler has been quiet and you assume either they’re sleeping or working. 

...

four hours later you wake up. not because you feel well rested enough, but because your stomach needs quelling. 

there’s a protein bar in your bag that you scarf down before going back to sleep.

...

7:00 AM.

this time you wake up to your handler tsk tsk-ing at you.

“don’t give me that. how is the program doing?"

“you’ve found the key. great. so now what?”

“yes, i believe i did tell you this would be less efficient. even before you realized how much info is in here.” 

“alright. well whenever you find someone to get the algorithm written send it to me.”

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▬▬▭▭▭▭▭▭ 40% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 15TH

9:00 AM.

“anybody yet?”

“okay. keep looking and keep me posted.”

...

2:45 PM

“you got somebody. fantastic.” ( about time. )

“do me a favor and change this priority to yellow status. i just need to to be done. thanks.”

...

6:50 PM

“in HQ? get up and leave now.”

“forget the mission. you need to go.”

“don’t send me anything. evacuate.”

“i am your superior. listen to me.”

you are pacing back and forth in the abandoned room. this mission isn’t worth losing a life over. 

“okay, okay, okay. i got it. i got it. do as you’re told now.”

...

7:00 PM

you lose all contact with HQ. your glasses cannot read or send any information to the servers. you had two choices.

one: catch the next flight back. two: continue on

you choose the latter. not for lack of consideration for your coworkers but you are more beneficial to everybody here. your handler risked everything to get you this program so you need to see it to the end. you owe it to them to uncover the truth.

• • • MISSION LOG_ ▬▬▬▬▬▭▭▭▭▭ 50% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 17TH

you’ve bought enough food from the city to last you a week. you hole yourself up in this room, waiting for the program to finish. your handler told you this version isn’t streamline enough and it requires monitoring once it starts. you don’t know any better so you follow the instructions given to you to the tee.

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▭▭ 70% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 19TH

you are tempted to bring in someone, anyone, to help you hurry this process along. but considering the level of security on these files and the sheer volume of the files, you don’t have that luxury. patience calls your name and you have no choice but to respond. 

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▭▭ 80% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 21TH

you chow down another cup of ramen for yet another meal. your eyes tire from staring at the screens for so long. you manually enter one prompt after the next, wishing that you can scream at whoever assigned you this mission. 

• • • MISSION OBJECTIVE_ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 100% COMPLETED

OCTOBER 24TH

the process is finished and the window disappears. it’s the most anticlimactic ending but the stress melts right off your shoulders. 

you go through the folders individually. each of them are labeled with a name and it goes on for several scrolls. altogether there are about one hundred of them. you click one open and within are columns full of pdf files. from just the very first file, it looks like several experiment trials–– visuals included. 

the first one, AMELIA, turns out to be a two year old pig.

then BAKER, DYLAN, a thirty year old male. 

LEE, JOOHYUN, a ten year old girl.

the data goes on like this without fail. 

the reality of the situation makes your stomach lurch, but you read as many as you can bear. the after images hit you harder than any punch you’ve ever endured. you gathered enough information to know the experiment dealt with specialized steroid effects.

without hesitation you exit out and check some unmarked folders. you run them in a text format and they detail bank activities from an account under the name kumar adani.

each piece resembles the same completed photo but you’re not quite sure how they fit together just yet. at this point you know that there’s no choice but to load as much of the data onto the hard drive built in your ring.

it’s time to go home.

[mrcoreymonroe]

New Pilot, Tough Call

Subscribe today to Plane & Pilot magazine for industry news, reviews and much more delivered straight to you!

Christa, my flight instructor at Atlantic Airways in Leesburg, Virginia, didn’t just teach me how to fly—she taught me how to be a pilot, and for that, I will always be grateful. She was always giving me these little tips and bits of advice that have, over the years since, turned out to be absolute gems.

Today, thanks to an ice storm, I had to scrub plans to sneak out of work early and fly the wife up to Nemacolin Woodlands Resort for an early dinner, so instead I made do with making sure my log book was up to date. As I browsed over past entries, one of Christa’s little gems made me smile. “When you log your time, don’t just jot down the bare statistics—aircraft, route, hours, landings—make sure to include something personal about the flight. Flying is awesome, and you’ll want to remember each flight you ever took.”

There, scrawled between a couple of entries for proficiency flights, was the entry: “8/16/2015, C172, N6017N, JYO-FFA-PVG, LDGs 3, 5.2,” followed by “Took Anna and niece to OBX, picked up Kendall.” I had forgotten about that. What a day.

At the time, I was still a newly minted private pilot with less than 100 hours total time. I was just learning the pilot’s lament—as soon as your friends and family learn that you are working on your pilot’s license, they all tell you how much they can’t wait to fly with you, and they start suggesting trips. “Let’s fly down to the old alma matter for a football game.” “Oh, we should all go to the beach!” “We have got to fly up to New England this autumn!” Then, after you actually pass your test and earn your wings, no one has the time or inclination to go flying. All of those cool ideas turn into a lot of “we can’t this weekend.”

I found myself making up excuses to go fly, and a lot of the time, I was up there by myself. But one day, I got the message I had been waiting for. A friend of mine and her young niece were supposed to be joining family in the Outer Banks for the week, but she was dreading the eight-plus hour drive from the Washington, D.C., area, thanks to the circuitous route required and typical weekend beach traffic. Could I please fly them down there instead? You betcha! This was exactly the sort of thing I pictured myself doing with my license. Plus, I’d finally have the chance to land at First Flight air field—the very spot where aviation all began. I immediately began flight planning.

The flight from Leesburg Executive Airport (KJYO) to First Flight (KFFA) could take about an hour and a half, even puttering along in a Cessna 172, if you could fly direct. Of course, you can’t. The route requires taking off to the West to depart the D.C. Special Flight Rules Area, crawling southward along the Blue Ridge to remain below Dulles International’s Class B airspace, before finally making the turn to the Southeast at Casanova VOR. That stretches the trip to closer to two and a half hours but still well short of the driving time.

The day of the flight was a hot and humid Sunday in August with bright blue skies and a few cotton ball clouds hanging here and there. Naturally, it was one of those days when everyone in the commonwealth who had access to a plane was going to be up there in the skies with me. My passengers arrived, and both wore big, ear-to-ear grins. This was going to be a fun, exciting adventure for Anna’s niece, and she was practically brimming with excitement. The plan was to drop them off at First Flight, and then I would swing back to Hampton Roads Executive to pick up my daughter and refuel. It was a gorgeous summer day with calm winds, and this was going to be great. I found that I, too, was brimming with excitement. My very first ferry flight!

Getting out of the Leesburg Maneuvering Area to depart the SFRA will keep you on your toes even on a calm day, as all general aviation coming and going is squeezed into a small box a few miles wide with a ceiling of 1,500 feet. On a busy weekend morning, it feels like other aircraft are coming at you from every direction. That day, the TCAS on the Garmin G1000 was polka-dotted with returns from other aircraft. Once clear of the SFRA, we still had to remain below Dulles Airspace for another 20 minutes. On a hot day with high humidity, that meant a bumpy, lurching ride as there was no escape from the ground-generated thermals. Nevertheless, my passengers seemed to be enjoying the ride, oblivious that their newly minted pilot was holding the yoke in a vice grip with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Thanks to its location at the Southwest edge of both the Class B airspace and the SFRA, the Casanova VOR can be a very busy intersection, as aircraft entering, departing and traversing the area all use it as a convenient waypoint. As I approached from the North, I also had to contend with the Flying Circus air show that takes place every Sunday out of the Bealeton air field, as well as Skydivers operating near Manassas and an ultralight flying club, on top of the usual convergence of general aviation aircraft. I was on flight following and got vectored around various activities for a while before finally clearing the area. More white-knuckle flying, as my friend casually asked, “Is it always this busy up here? I had no idea.” Me either, Anna, me either.

We had just cleared the Casanova VOR vicinity and were still below 3,500 feet when I felt a long slow lurch upward as we entered a particularly strong thermal. In my brain, I had just formed the words “uh-oh” when we got to the back end of the thermal and dropped like a stone. We only fell about 3 feet, but it felt like falling off of a 10-story building, especially to my youngest passenger, who had never flown in a small airplane before. She let out a blood-curdling scream. Anna, sitting next to me, grabbed my arm, and I heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Enough of this!” I said, sliding the throttle full-forward and pointing the nose up 5 degrees. Within a few minutes, we had climbed to 7,500 feet and were clear of the jarring thermals. Cool air began flowing out of the vents, and we all breathed easy. Anna’s niece was delighted to watch little puffy clouds pass below us and, up out of the low summer haze, our visibility seemed endless.

We stayed there until we passed the Norfolk-Hampton Roads area and began to descend into the Outer Banks area. We were treated to one of the best views I had ever seen: sun sparkling off of the calm waters of the Currituck Sound; the white tracks of motorboats unzipping the water below us; and the long stretch of the island spread out before us with the deep blue ocean beyond it. It was at that moment that I realized that there is nothing in the world that compares to island flying.

I couldn’t be distracted for long, however, because I was going to be landing at an unfamiliar airport with a short field. I was prepared for that. I had studied the sectional and read all of the comments on AOPA’s airport directory relating to landing at First Flight. Even without a GPS, a total novice with no sense of direction could find the air field. The island is less than a mile wide and flat as a pancake, with the First Flight memorial rising up above it so that it can be seen for miles around. Finding the location of the air field was one thing, but actually seeing it was another. The field itself is surrounded by trees, which means that you can’t see it until you are in the pattern. You know it’s down there and you just hope it’s where you thought it was.

Once lined up on downwind, I cruised out over the sound, banked into base and then final for Runway 3. That was when I first saw the power lines. There are two sets of power lines, one about half a mile from the end of each runway. They are well clear of the glide path and are no factor on a well-executed approach or take off, but to a new pilot, they looked like they were 1,000 feet high and strung across the touch-down point of the runway. Beyond the power lines was a small road and a chain link fence that, again, was well clear of the glide path but which loomed extra-large in my mind.

Fixated on the imaginary obstacles, I came in too high and too steep with too much speed. In the back of my head, I was suddenly worried that I was blowing it in front of my very first passengers. I was going to mess it up and look like a fool. I forced myself to fix the landing, trying to level it out, when I discovered the last and most sinister tricks that FFA had up its sleeve: Below the tree line, the gentle breeze off the ocean hits the tree line on the west side of the runway and bounces back across the field, giving you a nice little gust of crosswind just before you touch down. I was already struggling when the runway started to sway to the left and right below me. I was looking like an idiot. I had to fix this and get it right on the first pass…

Suddenly, Christa’s voice boomed in my head. “Go around.” It was a bad set up, I wasn’t prepared and I was about to botch it badly, perhaps in a very damaging and potentially life-threatening way. With the sudden realization that I was panicking, I slid the throttle full forward, leveled the wings and watched my airspeed climb as we buzzed over the field. Finally, I lifted the flaps and climbed back up into the pattern.

On the next pass, I was prepared for the power lines and the fence and ignored them. I focused on my airspeed and lined up the numbers. As we dipped below the tree line, I put in a slight correction for the ground-level crosswind and greased the landing like a pro. As we taxied back to the parking area, I realized that my hand was cramped and sore from gripping the yoke, and my palms were sweating. Christa’s words of wisdom were running through my head again. “If you’re coming into an unfamiliar airport for the first time, you should consider doing a flyover first, just to check things out before setting up in the pattern.” Thanks, Christa’s voice in my head. I could’ve used that advice about 20 minutes ago.

A few minutes later, I was helping Anna and her niece unload their bags from the plane when Anna’s father came over to help. He had arrived just in time to see my second (successful) landing attempt. “Nice landing,” he said. “How long have you been flying?”

For the first time that day, I felt like a pro. Actually, that’s not quite it. I felt like a pilot. Thanks, Christa!

The post New Pilot, Tough Call appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

from Plane & Pilot Magazine https://ift.tt/2Li6bv7

[mobbtown-blog1]

errica Benton awoke to the sound of short waves breaking against smooth rocks on the Pier 6 Pavilion. She yawned and flounced her hair, balancing out the streams of Starburst and Carnation extensions tangled together after last night’s impromptu pillow fight with her bandmates; Kimber, Aja, and Rayna collectively known as, The Holograms. The day before, Jerrica as her alter ego, Jem, performed at the pavilion with her band and was now spending the weekend held up in the Ritz-Carlton Estates, occupying the penthouse condos previously inhabited by bestselling book writer, Tom Clancy. Jerrica slinked out of the Queen sized bed careful not to disturb the other inhabitants; she stood in bay window overlooking the harbor replaying sections of last night’s show in her head. She was pleased with the laser and smoke filled spectacle and decided to reward herself with a bump of “Bolivian Marching Powder”. A small yet non-committal indulgence she picked up in Central America while fighting for the rights of migrant farmers and plantation worker in the Coca Fields of Ecuador. Jerrica looked over at the bed intent on waking her posse to start the day and use her bump to its fullest advantage. However, the bed was empty. She checked the bedside alarm clock, it was noon, far later than she hoped but still enough time to get her life in the Charm City. She ruffled the sheets and thought to herself; “They must have gotten up early and hit up Blue Moon for brunch. I hope they bring me back an order of Captain Crunch French Toast. I wonder if the French know about French Toast; Do the French get royalties every time someone says French Toast? Oh my God, Do I owe the French Money for saying French Toast a million times? O.k. if I stop saying French Toast now maybe my debt won’t be so high. Where are these bitches?” Jerrica reached under the bed and pulled out a designer high heel shoe; from it, she retrieved a small Silver Star shaped earring. She pressed the amulet into her lobe and gave it a tug; a familiar cybernetic voice filled the palatial waterfront estate. “Hello, Jerrica.” “Hey, Synergy; incredible show last night, you almost surged the power grid, though. Be careful with your use of light balance next time, we almost left the city in complete darkness.” “As if Baltimore isn’t already dark enough,” Bantered Synergy. “Excuse me?” Jem perplexed. “The temped climate change due to excessive humidity in the area causes an extended amount of overcast in the mid-Atlantic region thereby blocking out the sun throughout large portions of the day. What did you think I meant.” “That, I thought you meant that, and I was right, because I’m good at Meteorology.”

“Jerrica, I’m afraid there has been a bit of a kerfuffle.” “Yeah, I know, The Holograms rolled out and got brunch without me. Don’t these heifers know who they came here with? I mean I do two things when I’m out on tour; I shut down shows and I open up brunches, I mean I put the “B” in Bellini. “My life is so odd right now and I guess that’s why I just can’t even.” “Jerrica, I assure you, the holograms are not at brunch. They have been kidnapped by an unknown assailant and jettisoned off to Hunger Island as tribute to, Katniss Everdean.” “What the flip?” “She heard about the “Jem movie” and is intent on sabotaging the property. She plans on force feeding the girls and killing them with calories.” “It’s just a movie we can all premier at the Cineplex and fill seats. Nothing wrong with little friendly competition.” “That’s just it, Jerrica, Katniss mind has been so warped by the Hunger Games tributes that she now views any form of competition as a mortal threat. Anything she views as an impediment to her success, she must destroy.” “Katniss Everdean must be stopped. I have to save my friends, but how am I supposed to save my girls without the help of my girls?” “Not to worry, Jerrica, I’ve called in some backup to aid you on your mission.” “Well don’t be shy, tell me who it is, ooh is it the Battle Beasts? Is it Action Man? He’s so macho. He makes my queso ooze. “Actually, Jerrica, you’ll be receiving support from you old adversaries, The Misfits.” “The Misfits, why them, they don’t have a horse in this race?” “Actually, it was Roxy who proposed the team up; she’s still indebted to Ban-Nee for teaching her how to read. That and Stormer teamed up with your sister Kimber some time ago and released an album. Pitchfork gave it an 8 of 10.” “I don’t read Pitchfork; the writing is a bit too bloated for my taste. They tend to write as if their review is far more important that its subject matter and that turns me off.” “Jerrica, even the group’s leader, Pizzazz is committed to the cause. Although she doesn’t particularly care for you, she seems to harbor an even deeper animosity toward Katniss.”

“That’s all well and good, but I’m not sure I feel comfortable teaming up with the Misfits. They think their songs are better than mine.” “Oh, Darling, Jem, their songs are better, but you are far more glamorous, and your glamour makes you; truly, truly, truly …OUTRAEGOUS! “Now Jerrica you must morph into Jem, team up with the Misfits; fly to Hunger Island, and save your friends from Trans fatty fatality. Are you ready?” “Send all my calls direct to voice mail, I gotta go rescue my bitches.” Jerrica gives her amulet another brisk swipe, her body emits pulsing neon light as luminous as a quasar erupting in the Milky Way Pavilion. With her new formed alliance she is Jem and the Misfits, and on this day they will; Taste the Hunger. “I wonder if Eric has anything to do with this; he could be the unknown assailant. He’s always involved in some crazy scheme to sabotage me off the board and steal my half of the Starlight Music Company. I don’t know why he wants this company so bad he doesn’t know anything about music. I guess that doesn’t make him any different than any other music exec.” Jem snickers to herself and rubs her pointer finger across the glass dinner table, and inspects the tiny pearl flakes stuck to her finger tip. “No blow left behind.” She wipes the residue across her gums in anticipation of the Misfits arrival. The penthouse elevator chimes the doors open and out spill its contents; Roxy (Guitar), Jetta (Sax), Stormer (Keytar), and Pizzazz (lead vocals). “Hi girls,” “Don’t say hi to me, Say thank you,” Sneered Pizzazz, the group’s leader and Jem’s mortal adversary. “Thank you” “You got us a lift out to Hunger Island, or do you need us to hold your hand through that too?” Synergy interjects. “G.I. Joe Staff Sargent Roadblock is gonna give you an airlift in the Eagle Hawk Helicopter. He’s on the roof now.” “Wait, let me grab my sunglasses.” “You won’t need sun glasses when you travel with me, because Pizzazz brings plenty shade.” “O.k. well I definitely need to find my phone so I can live tweet what you just said.” “Status updated,” intoned Synergy. The girls ascend the elevator to the roof and are greeted by the decorated officer award winning chef and all around jovial guy: “Roadblock is here and it’s clear to see/ that you need a ride so come along with me/ Put on your seat belt and your parachute/ but you don’t need to wear a helmet cause your hair looks cute/ don’t be a litter bug, girls/ knowledge! “And knowing is half the battle,” Cheered Stormer. The girls all took a Xanax and pretty much slept through the 8 hour helicopter ride to Hunger Island. They conveniently awoke within a two minute eta, enough time to receive landing instructions from Roadblock; Use your parachutes to land after the ride/ when your boots hit the ground you’ll meet your guide/ Good luck on your journey, I’m sure you’ll win/ I hope to see you again/ before we get to Heaven/ I’m a Lutheran ya’ll/ Faith!

The girls floated safely to the ground nestled in a redolent tropical field of lush island frutex. They dumped their shoots, teased their hair, took a few selfies and updated their Instagram accounts. “Made it to the Island in one piece”: Hash Tag; • blessed • free rap concert • free the holograms • roadblock raps like them old heads from the70’s • can’t even believe this island has Wi-Fi • if there’s a Starbucks on this island im staying • My stage name is Pizzazz but My Street Name Is Rohypnol Cause I Stay Knocking Dumb Hoes Out and Fuckin they ass up. • No homo. • I wonder if this island breeds small dogs As the girls tuck their phones away and begin their trek, a soft glow of light beams through the tree tops, intercepting the girls’ slow procession. “Hello, Ladies, I’m actor, writer, director, and now temporal tropical tour guide, Phillip Seymour Hoffman.” “I’m here to guide you, because im featured in the Hunger Games trilogy, so I’m quite familiar with the terrain, and I’m also a blue chip actor usually employed to give mediocre storylines artistic credibility, like the Film, Almost Famous, and the story you’re in right now. “Phillip Seymour Hoffman, you dead right?” asked Jetta. “Yes. I am dead.” ��Yeah, I read about you, because I recently learned how to read. They found you in an apartment in Tribeca, right?” quizzes Roxy. “No, it was Chelsea.” Hoffman stated ruefully “You were surrounded by what, like, 50 bags of dope, some shit like that?” “Well, yeah something like that,” he stumbles over his words foolishly. “’50 bags of heroine is a lot of fuckin dope, you buy your shit from Sam’s Club or something?” “Did you think they was gonna stop making dope after they sold you yours.” “Did your dope dealer not have change for a 1000 dollar bill so you just bought it all?” “Alright I get it, I bought too much dope, and obviously I did, because I’m dead now. O.k.? So can we just move on and get this over with please? I’m trying to help you save your friends life!” “I appreciate all the help and everything Phil, I really do, but I just don’t see myself following a fucking junkie through a jungle. Oliver Stone wrote three movie about that shit and none of them end well so I’m gonna respectfully request that you jump back in whatever shallow grave you hopped your pale ass out of cause Pizazz can’t fuck with you, I loved you in Capote, though. Keep your ass moving on through to that other side, baby boy. “ “Oh, my God Pizzazz, he was our only way around the Island, Why did you run him off like that?” “I mean we don’t have a map or anything, we gonna die on this Island like those kids in that book I was supposed to read in middle school, but I didn’t cause I was still illiterate back then” whined Roxy. “That fat jerk was gonna sell us into white slavery the first chance he got. Besides we don’t need no week man telling us where to go and what to do. Shit the island has Wi-Fi. Just pull out your phone go to the google home screen the nearest me browser is gonna pop up. In that search bar put in kidnapping. And boom three kilometers that way. Just then a camouflage Jeep crashes furiously through the bush. The driver adorned with long blond silky trestles’ flowing downs his back and across his German issue naval officer blouse hops rapaciously from the driver’s seat and advances on the girls. “Need a lift old friend?” “Riot?” Jem says pensively. “Jem is it?” Riot says casually. “It is,” she says with obviously inflection. “Or is it Jerrica?” He says haughtily; as he laughs with arrogant conviction. A collective gasp falls over the cluster of girls. Jem is caught off guard and before she has time to deny the claim her face tells a truth her words could no longer hide. “But how,” she asks still shell shocked. I’ve always known who you were Jerrica. Many years ago when you were just a little girl I knew your father. We were inventers and visionaries. We partnered up and created the Synergy technology together. It took many years to complete and during that time I became close to you and your father, you in particular, Jerrica. I took you to the park, I taught you how to ride a bike I helped you with your schoolwork. As you got older my feelings matured into something deeper, more complex, something I could not quite process. At the same time my feeling for you were maturing the Synergy project was also coming to fruition. I was proud of the project and I wanted to share it with the world. The advancements were unlimited, but you father had other plans. He wanted to keep the project secret and use it for more ethical practices whereas I wanted to mine it for its commercial value. We were at an impasse and instead of fighting I left with my half of the research. I kept the telecommunication half and he kept the light manipulation half. “Wendell Wasserman, my dad’s doting assistant, I remember you. You were a kind man, leery, but sweet. You just up and disappeared when I was 14. What happened to you?” I moved back to Austria, sold my half of the Synergy technology to a Japanese mobile communication firm. I got a facelift. I changed my name; started a glam rock band-Pink Lipstick. We had an international top ten hit. Maybe you’ve heard of it…”Walk you home from school” “Walk you home from School, I remember that song. She recites a few bars… I watched you grow up as a baby in your father’s arms Then you grew into a lady and fell under my charms I want to fall into you when I Walk you home from school “Oh my god was that song about me?” “Yes Jerrica, It was about you, it was always about you. I moved back; started a new band-The Stingers, I even grew this luxurious flaxen mane and still you rebuff me at every turn. Well the honeymoon is over baby! I want that Synergy technology and I want it now or you and you friends will die. Just then a righteous arrow pierces the sky. And lands square in the heart of Riot. “Oh shit, I got blood in my succulent hair, and I think I’m dying…nope…I’m dead, yeah, I’m definitely dead. “ “Katniss Everdean” I presume. Hissed Pizzazz. “Was it the bow and the arrow that gave me away?” “I only asked because I could not tell you in person from your movie posters, they make you appear much more, slender, than you really are. I was worried about your health. It’s such a relief to see, in abundance, that your thighs really, do touch.” “Yes, they do, just like my two, Golden Globes.” “Ah, Miss Everdean are you gonna force feed us a ton of carbs? I really don’t want to fuck my diet up.” Stormer asked. “Ah, no that was all that twisted pedophile, Riots plan, he kidnapped me too. He didn’t try anything too direct just a lot of foot baths, finger and toe nail polishing, and he brushed my hair three times a day. When he saw you all flying in he dashed out here and that’s when a nest of Mocking Jays came and loosened me from my bindings. I followed Riot here, and well you saw the rest. Hey you guys wanna watch My Little Pony Friendship is Magic?” “There’s cable and internet on this Island too?!?” squealed Jetta, because it’s been a while since she had a line. “No, well yeah, but, Riot also kidnapped The My Little Pony crew. They’re outback with the Holograms frolicking in a waterfall made of rainbow sprinkles. “ “Oh, my god he was gonna make the girls eat the My Little Ponies, gross.” Conjectured Stormer. “Guy’s I’m sorry I never told you all that I’m both Jem and Jerrica” Pizzazz, finger combed her hair, briskly turning a side eye glance to her arch rival and smirked. “Bitch, we knew.”

The End. Jem and the Misfits “Taste the Hunger” Written By Mike Smith michaeladrion@gmail.com