#we have 3 days of close observation now as she could go backwards in progress

[vampyrsm]

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[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 4/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: A dragonologist being hurt by a dragon Word Count: 2,534

“Asterin, we have been at it for a week, how about we make some progress today?”

I was exhausted, standing alert, waiting to see if the dragon will calm down. Nothing, in particular, happened that would startle Asterin but she decided to roar in my face 3 times in the last 10 minutes and she even snapped at me. If I wasn’t fast enough she could’ve bitten my head off.

It’s been a week since Asterin arrived here and I am sad to say that I haven’t made any progress with her. I am disappointed – disappointed in myself. Everybody was counting on me to make her feel safe and comfortable here. Three reserves were waiting to see any progress and I didn’t do anything.

I couldn’t even get her to feel so relaxed to not dig her claws in the ground beneath her. She still roars at me – less at me than anyone else but she roars nonetheless. She scratches anyone who dares to come close to her and the second she sees me in protective gear her nostrils start smoking.

The only thing that has changed since the day of her arrival is that she eats chicken blood and brandy and thus we can see progress in her growth.

My boss understands and is patient with me. He constantly reminds me that I have all the time in the world as long as she doesn’t hurt me. I know I have to take it slow and give her time but I can’t shake the feeling it would be easier if I knew what exactly happened to her.

I wish I could find a way for her to trust me, to feel safe at least, and to start eating anything else than liquids. She is growing but not at the rate she is supposed to, to reach the correct size for her age.

Every day when I come home from work I make myself some dinner and take out blank pieces of paper and start contemplating ideas what else I could try.

I tried talking to her, singing to her. I imitated roaring and rolled on the ground. I left her completely alone for a whole day, observing her from a nearby hill but she didn’t move, being a curveball for the entire day.

I brought her different types of food – venison, chicken, boar, even a wolf. I gave her bread, all kinds of fruit and vegetables but she merely sniffed anything.

I even pretended that I was a dragon – trust me it was the most awkward thing I have ever done.

When I told Matthew of the idea he needed every muscle in his body not to start laughing. He helped me make the costume I put over my protective gear. I carefully walked to her habitat and I piqued her interest the second she saw me. Matthew got a recording of roars from the researchers and when I stopped in front of her, I turned it on so that it appeared as if I was making the sounds. Then I took out my wand and cast a few fire spells so that she could see I can breathe fire.

To my surprise, she didn’t get territorial but laid on the ground observing my every move. Matt reckoned she knew it wasn’t a real dragon. I had a feeling she was playful but it didn’t make any sense. Dragons aren’t playful around other dragons at this age – they become defensive and aggressive. I could feel she was still tense and she didn’t move – not even her tail – but she looked intrigued which was the first time after I brought her the blood and brandy the first night in the forest.

I was running out of ideas. I asked other dragonologists that have more experience with dragons, Hebridean Blacks in particular, but none of them told me anything new. They indeed are the hardest to tame but none are this afraid. Being one of the mightiest dragons, Blacks usually have little reason to be scared of anything.

I understand that she had a bad experience when she was a baby dragon and who knows how long she was alone before the MacFusty family found her. None of us knows what happened to her or who did this to her – we only have her scars to tell us the story with a lot of gaps in it.

I tried putting myself in her shoes – to imagine how scared she was all alone, what she had to endure, and how I would act if I was brought to a place like the Sanctuary. I realized that a week isn’t even close to start being comfortable after being transported across the continent.

Since Hebridean Blacks are very rarely found outside Scotland and the MacFusty clan keeps track of dragons on Hebrides Islands it’s clear that someone who doesn’t have the authority to take care of a dragon brought her there.

I was still standing in front of her waiting for anything to change but it didn’t. I know I wasn’t timed on when I make some progress with her but in a week’s time she has to go through her health check-up and since I am the only one she doesn’t seem to want to kill when she gets approached, I can’t see that happening.

“We are supposed to go see the healers so they can see if you have any broken bones and check your teeth and give you an assessment and I can’t let them do that because you get all murderous with your bites and fire.” I playfully rolled my eyes at her getting nothing but a tail movement in return.

“Do you want to eat me? Or scratch me?” I raised my eyebrows. “It would be better than just standing still,” I mumbled to myself.

Asterin didn’t react to anything I said.

“I have to be here because this is my job and you have to be here because this is your home now so how about I take a seat.”

I turned around and looked at the nearby rocks. I took out my wand and levitated one closer to me so I could sit down.

Before I could finish the spell I felt a sharp pain in the middle of my back. I gasped for air before letting out a screech. I turned around as fast as I could and saw Asterin standing right in front of me. She roared with her head toward the sky, and then looked down at me with smoking nostrils.

“Asterin, please, calm down.” I took a deep breath as the pain in my back overwhelmed my entire body. “I…I didn’t mean to hurt you…with that rock.”

I could hardly stand but I bowed my head anyway and started walking backward.

“It’s okay…I…I mean you no harm.” I blinked hard a few times, starting to see black spots.

The dragon roared again, louder this time, and lifted her paw to stomp on me.

“Protego!” I shouted.

I didn’t want to use a defensive spell on her that could hurt her. The last thing I needed was to frighten her some more.

“Asterin, please, you hurt me. Let me walk away.” I took a few more steps backward but with each one, she took another step forward.

I groaned from pain, trying to keep it together. I knew that I’m a dead man if I faint in front of her. It’s true that she was on a liquid diet but I don’t think she would mind eating a human.

“Ventus!” I cast another spell. I needed to put some distance between us without hurting her so the Wind spell seemed like the best option.

“Charles, what is going on?”

I have never been so happy to hear my boss’ voice.

“She…she attacked me when I turned my back to her.” My voice barely audible.

“I told you it was foolish not to wear any protective gear!” He barked. I could hear the panic in his voice.

I looked up and saw him take out his wand.

“No, please don’t do anything to her.”

“Are you mad, Charles? She almost killed you!”

“I must’ve done…something to trigger her. I turned my back to…her before and she has never done this.”

“We can talk about this later. I have to get you to the infirmary!” Matthew kneeled next to me and helped me get up.

I clenched my teeth from the pain that lifting my body caused me but I knew I have to endure it.

“Blimey, Charles, the cut looks really bad,” Matthew said concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” I swung my hand, wanting him to stop worrying about me.

“This has gone too far. You have to start wearing your gear when you’re with her or I am assigning her to someone else.” Matthew frowned as we started walking away from the dragon.

I could hear her roar – cry almost – as we walked away and out of her sight. I couldn’t believe that the Wind spell did the trick and made her stay put. I was sure she was going to come after me again, more determined, and try to finish me off.

The second we saw the infirmary, Matt started to shout for any of the healers to hear him. Two of them came out, saw in what state I was, and helped Matt move me inside.

“What happened?” I heard one ask.

“The new Hebridean Black clawed him on the back,” Matthew answered.

“It’s pretty deep, Matt,” the other said as they laid me on the hospital bed and cut my shirt off. “Why wasn’t he wearing any protective equipment?”

“Don’t ask.” Matt sighed. “Is he going to be okay?”

That was the last thing I heard before my body finally gave in to the pain that was only getting stronger as the healers looked at my wound. I closed my eyes and all noise around me disappeared.

When I woke up, I saw Matthew sitting in front of me. The second he saw my eyes flutter he stood up and leaned over me.

“Charles, how are you feeling?” He couldn’t contain the concern in his voice.

“I’ve been better.” I tried chuckling but my back was still in too much pain. “How long have I been out?”

“3 days. The healers barely saved you. The cut was very deep. In the middle, the claw got to one of your vertebrae. It was so bad they couldn’t use magic on you, they needed to use stitches. You’re lucky to be alive!”

“Go ahead, scold me.” I made the effort to fully open my eyes so I could see the expression on his face.

“You are going to need months to fully heal and the healers said that even though they were able to mend your wound and stitch you up, the injury will leave one nasty scar. Let that be a reminder to you that dragons aren’t Crups, Charles.” He furrowed his brows at me.

“I am sorry. I might’ve taken it too far but I am getting desperate, Matt. Nothing I do works. Every idea I come up with, flops. I don’t know what to do to help her and I can’t fail this. I can’t.” I wanted to lift my arms to bury my face in my hands but I couldn’t move them that much.

“I know you can’t, Charles. Why do you think I was so strict with you not letting you work with the higher-class dragons?”

“Because I don’t have enough experience?” I guessed.

“No. I can’t even believe you fell for that. You’re one of the most talented dragonologists here. You’re more qualified to work with the most vicious dragons in this Sanctuary than some of my men that have 20+ years experience behind them.” Matthew pursed his lips. I could see it in his eyes that he never wanted to tell me this but I guess me almost dying changed his mind.

“Then why not let me?” I wanted to know.

“Because even though your burning love for dragons comes in handy in many ways, when you are dealing with a challenge you are ready to risk everything, even your life, to get it done.” He sat back down, shaking his head.

“Okay, I admit that I went a bit overboard letting my guard down with Asterin so quickly but I have never seen such a stubborn and frightened dragon.” A look of concern creased my face.

“Charles, we can’t take the right approach if we don’t know what exactly happened to the dragon.” Matthew sighed.

“How long can’t I work?”

“I told you, at least a few months. First, we have to see if your stitches are going to be okay – we can’t risk you getting an infection. Then you have to get the stitches taken out and then maybe I can let you back to work with Hel, Lasair, and Rocker.” Matthew said with his eyes narrowed, thinking of the possibilities.

“How about I do something else when they release me from the infirmary?” I was biting my lip nervously. I wanted to ask him about this for days but I wasn’t sure if he would be up for it. Now that I am laying in front of him, barely able to move, he might just think it’s the only way.

“I’m listening.” He lifted his left eyebrow, his eyes locked with mine.

“As you said we can’t take the right approach because we don’t know what happened to her. How about I go and pay a visit to the MacFusty clan, take a look around, and ask them some questions. Maybe I can learn something that could help me with Asterin.”

“They will give you the same story they told me, Charlie. There is nothing else to find out.” Matt’s lips curved down.

“Please, just let me try. I have to try and it is less dangerous than working with her.” I grinned at him as much as I could.

“You won’t take no for an answer, will you?” He shook his head playfully. “No, I will not.”

“Fine!” He sighed. “But only when your stitches are out and the healers deem you ready for such a long journey.” “You’ve got yourself a deal, boss!”

I couldn’t believe he will allow me to do this. I trust the MacFusty family but what if they missed something? What if there is something crucial for me to know to properly approach the dragon? I know that there is a low chance of succeeding. The family is known for being huge dragon lovers and enthusiasts and I doubt they would just give up on her without trying everything that comes to mind first.

I know they were thorough with their investigation and tried their best so there is a very small chance that I will find something they couldn’t. But I have to go. I have to give it a try. I can’t give up on her. This plan simply has to work. I am determined to find something and succeed with her if it’s the last thing I ever do.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Handmaiden🌹7

Warnings: eventual dark elements ~ nonconsensual sex, blow job, fingering, (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Princess Madeline has left her homeland to marry a king. On her journey, she has brought her most trusted handmaiden. Little do either of them know how perilous their new home will be.

Note: Okay, okay, y’all win. King Sneke serving it up. 

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

You held the basin as Madeline wretched into it. The splatter of her sick made your own stomach stir. When she was finished, you set it aside and wiped her mouth with a kerchief. She babbled as you helped her out of her gown. She could barely sit up as the liquor laced her blood. You laid her on her stomach and emptied the basin before setting it at her bedside.

You stood and watched the queen as her eyes rolled back and she sank into a deep slumber almost instantaneously. You thought of the king though he never truly left your mind. You realised upon your entrance in the feast hall, he hadn’t truly been watching his wife, but you. His posture spoke of knowing and expectation.

You lingered to make sure Madeline didn’t wake again. Your thoughts flurried and you shivered at the thought of what awaited you outside this chamber. Perhaps you should flee. The castle was asleep and none would be concerned with a single servant anyhow. 

You might make it out of the country by sunrise… but where would you go?

This wasn’t your country. Your home had only ever been with Madeline. And you couldn’t leave her alone to face the inevitable wrath of her husband. To face years alone at his mercy. You couldn’t abandon her even if you were poor help indeed. You stepped closer and knelt as you admired her porcelain face. For the first time since her wedding, she looked peaceful.

How selfish it would be to leave her now? Was it any better to let her husband dishonor her thus? You might share in the degradation but that did not excuse you. As unwilling as you were, as powerless, you could not see a hopeful end for either of you. Abandon her and she would suffer alone, remain and she would suffer upon your part. It wasn’t much of a choice but so was the life of a servant.

You kissed your hand and touched Madeline’s cheek. She would be blissfully unaware of your torment as you sat in witness of hers. You hoped she remained thus but that nagging foreboding told you that could not be. The king was not done with either of you and when he would be, you could not know, you only knew it could not end well.

You sighed and blew out the lamp. You went through to the receiving chamber and hovered by the door. Would he call to you? Did he expect you there now? You weren’t certain if you should wait there or wander without. If you opted for the latter, you might just find it in you to run.

You couldn’t stay here either. You opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Lawrence stood opposite one of the king’s guards and neither flinched at your exit. You turned and swept down towards the servants chambers. Perhaps if you hid in there, he might forget.

Ha, he wouldn’t forget. You knew that. Funny how denial could inspire the most ridiculous thoughts.

As you turned the corner, you tripped and turned to the man’s who’s boot you had trod on. You caught yourself against the wall as his features flickered in the torch light. Lord James seemed hardly concerned for this boot or his toes. Merely impatient at your arrival.

“You were long with the queen,” He said evenly.

“I had to see that she was well,” You returned, “As is my duty, my lord.”

“Duty to one’s king precedes that of her queen,” He countered.

You frowned. “You know of his intent, but you aid him regardless?”

“He is the king. It is better he seeks the private company of some easily forgotten maid than flout his infidelity openly with a lady. Those are not so easily cast aside.”

“Dare I wonder if you’ve experience in that matter?” You asked.

He snickered and promptly gestured you along the corridor. 

“I have sense and I have vowed to serve my king well. It would not do to have his marriage dissemble so swiftly.” You followed him as he wound his way along the hallways. “Wouldn’t you sat the same of his queen? She has come all this way to marry him, would you have her humiliated by your hand?”

“Surely not, my lord,” You conceded.

“I do not question his desires, that is not my duty,” He explained. “I merely gird his actions so that they do not harm him in their doing. It was I who found that hidden chamber, I who chose this castle as the first stop upon our progress for its unknown labyrinths, because I know the king well and he does not hear the word no.”

“And he so willingly revealed his want of a mere handmaiden?” You scoffed.

“He didn’t have to. I know him and I knew he was inflamed but I didn't see that fervour in the presence of his own wife.” He mused as he stopped by the alcove. “But I saw the look he gave you that day by the stables and the way he watched you in council not a few days after.”

“Do you observe all so closely?”

“It is how one survives at this court.” He replied. “Awareness and… sense, as I said.”

“Sense?” You echoed.

“To know one’s place, their limits.” He pushed the stone door open as he spoke. “To know that a maid is a maid and though she may draw the eye of a king, she will remain as thus.” He turned back to you and beckoned you through. “Bask in his favour so long as you can but not draw it out because it can so quickly turn to spite.”

“Is it also your duty to advise handmaidens, my lord?”

“In advising you, I do advise him,” His hand rested on the stone slab as he waited. “So yes. It is within my duty.” He nudged you with his knuckles. “Now go and pray he is done with you in short order so that you may cling to your loyalties.”

You lowered your eyes and stepped through, ashamed at his insinuation. You said nothing more as he turned the stone slab back into place and sealed you in the small chamber. It was empty, not even a candle lit it. You neared the window as the moonlight shone through but your eyes was caught by another light; duller, distant.

The door by the hearth was opened and a short corridor stared back at you. You gulped and neared it, slowly feeling your way along until the glow surrounded you. You entered a chamber much bigger than that hidden behind the alcove. A four post, lavish furniture and drapings, gilded frames around extravagant portraits. A room fit for a king.

Steven stood by the window. You stopped just outside the hidden passage. He stepped back and drew shut the curtains. He turned to you and smirked. He only wore a linen pair of undershorts, his broad chest and muscled arms statuesque even without brocade. He neared slowly.

“On those nights when my wife isn’t too disposed to warm my bed, we shall adhere to that chamber,” He motioned to the doorway behind you. “But you might take her spot this night.”

You flinched as he came up before you and his fingers traced along the hem of your cap. He carefully uncovered your hair and flung it aside. You grabbed his hands thoughtlessly and he tilted his head. You dropped your arms and kept your eyes on the wall.

He led you further in and circled you. His hot breath glossed over your hair as he unbuttoned the back of your gown. Your bodice slackened a little at a time until the sleeves drooped and slid down your arms. He helped guide the plain wool down and untangled your hands from the cuffs. You shivered as the weight of the gown crumpled around your feet.

Servants didn’t bear the same corsets as their mistresses. You wore nothing but a yellowed shifts, a pair of fraying stockings and your slippers. Steven’s hands ran along your sides as he felt your shape through the fabric. He pressed himself against you, his arousal obvious and prodding.

“You know what happens if you’re bad?” He asked. “Don’t you?”

You quivered but were speechless with fear.

“Think of your queen and think that you are serving her this night,” He said. “For if you can keep me content, I might be inclined to see to her own comforts… understand, little mouse?”

His hand brushed up your stomach and chest, tickled along your throat and grasped your chin. He leaned in and his lips met your cheekbone. 

“Well?”

“I understand, your majesty,” You trembled and his snickered.

He turned your head forcefully and kissed you as your neck ached from the awkward angle. His tongue poked at your lips until you opened them and it dipped inside. He was eager. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you fully to him without parting. He led you backward, blindly, toward the bed. You struggled not to stumble.

He drew away, his lips shiny beneath his thick beard. He grabbed the shoulders of your shift and tugged them until the laces loosened along the collar. He slid it down your arms and body, again the fabric heaped upon the floor. His eyes followed it and deliberately climbed back up your body. 

His fingers crawled up your arms and along your shoulders. He dragged them down your collarbone and chest. He cupped your tits and squeezed with a groan. You tried not to look at him as you felt a peculiar flutter within. He played with your nipples, his thumbs flicked over the hardened buds and circled them. Finally his hands continued on along your sides and fell away from you.

“You may remove my shorts,” He took your hands and placed them at his waist. The fabric barely concealed his arousal.

You shook as you unlaced them and hesitated as they slackened. You bit down and pulled the waist out over his member as it sprung out. You gasped and drew away. The shorts fell to his ankles as he laughed. His cock bobbed as he stepped out of the cotton.

“You are…” He reached out and traced your jawline with his fingertips. “Endearing.”

You blanched and looked down. You just wanted it over with. The more he drew it out, the worse it felt. Your flesh was on fire and you hated that it was because of him. Be done with it and you could linger in your disgust. Alone.

You reached to your stocking and he caught your hand. “Leave them.”

He pulled you with him as he turned and sat on the edge of the bed. His knees were wide as he let you go and gripped himself in his hand. He stroked himself and pointed to the floor before him.

“On your knees,” He ordered. “I have more to show you.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped beating. You stepped closer and lowered yourself, nearly falling onto your knees. You grabbed his thigh to steady yourself unthinkingly and he groaned. He took your hand and guided it just below his cock. He made you cradle his sac as he gestured you even closer.

“Open your mouth,” He wiggled his cock, “Just a little at a time… you don’t want to… choke.”

Your heartbeat returned and pounded in your ears. Your eyes burned as he pressed your hand tighter to him before he let go. He leaned back on his hands and watched you. You couldn’t look at him. You thought of the doorway and the open corridor; but that was all closed in with a stone slab you couldn’t move fast enough to get away. And if you ran, he’d find you wherever you fled to.

You bent closer and he shuddered as your breath brushed along his tip. His fingers gripped the blanket as your lips met the swollen head of his member. Slowly, you opened your mouth over him and slickened him with your tongue. He was salty but smooth. You took him little by little.

“Use your tongue, swirl it, mmm, yes,” He guided as you got deeper. “Your hands too,” He reached down and placed your hand around the bottom of his length. “Tighter.”

His hand left yours and spread over the back of your head. He pushed you down until you gagged. He pulled you back and forced you back down; over and over.

“Work your hand too,” He urged. “Just like that, sweet maid.”

His fingers knotted in your hair as he led you faster. Your mouth made sickly noises around him as he poked the back of your throat harder and harder. You could barely breathe around him and were dizzy from the quickening motion.

He grunted and stilled you suddenly. He pulled you away from him and his cock slipped from your mouth, a string of saliva trailed from your lips.

“Enough, enough,” He released you and hissed through his teeth. You wiped your mouth and sat back on your heels. You stared at the floor and tried not to vomit.

“On the bed.” He hit the mattress beside him. “On your knees.”

You got up, your legs shaking badly, and did as he said. He stood and came up behind you. His hands trailed down your back and he groped your ass as he stepped closer. He nuzzled the back of your head as his wet members touched your back. He gripped your shoulders and pushed until you were forced onto your hands.

“Yes… yes,” His hand slipped down as his other kept hold of your ass. “Perfect.”

He slid his fingers down between your legs and pushed them further apart. He dragged them along your wet cunt and you closed your eyes. You were soaked. He hummed as he circled your entrance. He pushed one finger in and then another. They slid in and out of your easily though you were tight around them.

He drew away and purred as he sucked on his fingers. “You’re delicious but I can’t wait any longer.”

You winced as he pressed the head of his cock to your swollen lips. He dragged it up and down as he wetted it with your arousal. He paused at your entrance and his hand slipped to your hip. He gripped tightly as he pushed inside just a little. You gasped and he breathed out slowly as he got deeper, just an inch at a time.

When he had filled you entirely, you whimpered. He tried to push in even more and you cried out.

“Oh! Ow!” You slapped the bed. “Too… much. Too…”

“Shhh,” He cooed as he caressed your back. “It will take… time.”

He pulled back and you sighed in relief. He thrust and you exclaimed again, though that time he did not try to force himself all the way. He rocked his hips a few times and kneaded your ass as each time, his intrusion grew easier.

“Touch yourself,” He commanded. 

You shook your head and clawed the blankets. He stopped entirely and smacked your ass.

“That was an order from your king,” He growled.

“Yes, your majesty,” You gritted you as you held yourself up shakily on one arm and reached down to your cunt. You spasmed as your fingers glided over your bud.

“Like I did,” He said. “In the forest… little circles.”

You did as he ordered and felt your walls clench around him. He began to thrust again. The fullness paired with the sensation of your fingers on your clit was too much. Your head was spinning as the vibrations began to spread along your thighs and back. You quivered and gave a pathetic moan as the tension snapped.

Your arm gave out and you fell on your face as you came. Steven held your ass up as he quickened and you whined as he sank even deeper than before. Your pussy clung to him as the waves washed over you and you drooled onto the bed. Your fingers slipped from between your legs and tried to lift yourself back up.

He caught the back of your neck and pushed you down. His flesh slapped loudly against yours as his voice swirled in the air around you. He squeezed your neck tighter as he fucked you harder and harder. You covered your head with your arms as you mumbled senselessly and you came again. You were panting so hard, you were certain you’d pass out.

He cursed sharply and his thrusts turned frantic. A sudden burst of warmth spilled into you and his nails dug into your hips. He rocked and quaked as he came, slowing until he was still. He let out loud heavy breaths and carefully pulled out of you. You felt the gush as it dripped down your cunt. He rubbed his fingers through the mess and pushed it back inside you.

He slapped your ass again and turned to fall down beside you on the bed. Your legs slipped until you were flat on your stomach. He reached over and pulled your arms from over your face. He pushed you onto your back and shifted closer. He guided your hand down to your cunt so that you could feel the stickiness.

“Remember who you serve,” He whispered against your cheek. “And I shall serve you well in kind.”

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 6-24 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 6 – Tiger’s Accomplice Ghost (Parts 1, 2): 6-1 / 6-3 / 6-5 / 6-7 / 6-9 / 6-11 / 6-13 / 6-15 ♦️ ♦️  6-16 / 6-18 / 6-20 / 6-22 / 6-24 / 6-26 / 6-27 / 6-28 / 6-29

Information on the Chapter title (helpful to know): Wikipedia | My notes

--

Zuo Ran’s Office

After Fu Qiao arrived at the north district, he headed straight for a large, abandoned building near the big ginkgo road. For these few days, aside from going out, he lived there entirely.

When Fu Qiao wasn’t there, the police took the opportunity to go inside and inspect it, noticing that there was a very simple chemistry laboratory there. Though they didn’t notice any new types of illegal drugs at the location, the particular scent of the drugs lingered in the air of the laboratory.

It might have been just as Zuo Ran speculated – after Chen Hanzhang noticed that Fu Qiao was a chemistry student, she demanded that Fu Qiao help her analyze and figure out the formula of the drugs.

MC: How could the formula behind illegal drugs be that easily figured out? It really is ridiculous to think that Chen Hanzhang would look for a chemistry student that hasn’t even graduated yet.

Zuo Ran: Chen Hanzhang is probably just giving it a try. After all, she holds onto the blackmail leverage, so to her, it’s a waste to not use Fu Qiao.

MC: Though now, we can confirm that Zhou Nan’s death happened at the hands of Fu Qiao. Should we tell Zhao Fei about these results first?

The concrete evidence that could prove that Fu Qiao committed the crime was his and Zhou Nan’s couples’ ring. This was an unexpected gain.

--

[Flashback]

City Police Station

The day before yesterday, or last Saturday, Yan Wei suddenly called, having us come to the police station.

Yan Wei: Good news. We’ve found concrete evidence that can directly prove that Fu Qiao committed the crime.

MC: That’s great. What evidence is it?

Yan Wei: Speaking of which, it was you who was sharp, MC. Do you still remember that groove mark on the syringe?

MC: Could it be that the groove came from… Fu Qiao’s ring?

Qing Zhian said before that Fu Qiao and Zhou Nan had a pair of couples’ rings. When the two fought, Zhou Nan had even thrown away the ring.

Yan Wei: That’s right – it’s precisely the ring.

Yan Wei took out an evidence bag. Placed inside it was a silver ring, and the surface of the ring had protruding diamond patterns. Aside from the ring, there was also a red string and a wrinkled sheet of paper in the bag.

MC: This is… Fu Qiao’s talisman?

Yan Wei: Yes, Fu Qiao placed this ring in the amulet, and he’s always worn it close to his body.

Yan Wei: Last night, Fu Qiao bought food from a convenience store and then returned to the laboratory. On his way, he got robbed by hooligans.

Yan Wei: The police following him pretended to be patrollers and caught those hooligans, and noticed the talisman that Fu Qiao left behind on the scene.

Yan Wei: It was probably pulled off while Fu Qiao was fighting.

Yan Wei: The physical evidence department has identified it – the patterns on this ring matches up perfectly with the groove on the syringe.

Zuo Ran: Based on the position of the groove, Fu Qiao probably was wearing the ring on his index finger, holding the syringe backwards with the needlepoint facing Zhou Nan when he stabbed it in.

MC: The bottom part of Fu Qiao’s index finger is somewhat thinner than the upper part – it was probably left from wearing the ring for a long time!

Zuo Ran: The force exerted was so large that he could leave a groove on the syringe – it’s evident that Fu Qiao was in a very agitated mood during the time.

At that time, what kind of mood would he have been in?

Was it resentment and stress, or… excitement?

[Got Fu Qiao’s Ring!]

[Got Fu Qiao’s Talisman!]

Yan Wei: We’ve got the murder weapon. We just need to also confirm the source of the high-purity drugs to completely solve Zhou Nan’s murder case.

[Flashback end]

--

Zuo Ran: I made a trip to Zhao Fei’s place yesterday, and I’ve already told him about the situation.

Zuo Ran: He still wants to wait until the proof is completely revealed before he gives us Xu Ping’s package.

MC: He really is something… refusing to discharge the eagle without seeing the rabbit.

MC: Although, Lawyer Zuo, why didn’t you have me come with you when you went to Zhao Fei’s house yesterday?

Zuo Ran: I was just updating him on the case, so there was no need to have you make a trip down.

Zuo Ran: Last week, you ran around investigating the whole time. I hoped you could relax well on the weekend.

>Work is number one >Being with you is relaxation

MC: No matter what, work is the most important. I don’t feel tired at all.

Zuo Ran: The only reason why you don’t feel tired is because the case progress has been smooth and your mind is too excited.

Zuo Ran: Your body got tired early on, but you yourself didn’t notice.

Zuo Ran: Only with work-rest balance, with tension and relaxation, can you maintain high efficiency for long periods of time.

Zuo Ran: So, when it’s time to rest, you must rest well.

MC: Then… after the case is done, I will rest and relax well!

>Work is number one >Being with you is relaxation

MC: Actually, being with Lawyer Zuo is both work and relaxing.

Zuo Ran: …

Zuo Ran: Why do you say so?

MC: When we go out for work, you’re always driving, work meals are always prepared by you, and after work, there might also be time to watch movies…

MC: Isn’t this the best way to relax?

Zuo Ran: Then… after the case is finished, how about we go see a movie?

MC: Okay!

--

With a vacation day to look forward to, I ignited with the drive to solve the case quickly in an instant.

MC: Fu Qiao’s movement range from these few days have already been marked onto the electronic map.

MC: The police monitoring him reported that the places Fu Qiao went to were all nearby abandoned buildings, or those with no people for the moment.

MC: The approximate range is… within three kilometres of the laboratory.

Zuo Ran: Chen Hanzhang converted a laboratory for Fu Qiao to do his experiments. Thus, the place where she keeps the drugs probably won’t be too far away.

Zuo Ran: Otherwise, it’s very easy get intercepted by police doing routine spot checks as he takes the drugs through the city.

Zuo Ran: Especially with these drugs, which have a scent to them.

Zuo Ran: This probably is also the basis on which Fu Qiao inferred that the drugs is stored with the blackmail criminal evidence.

MC: But there are too many old buildings in the north district. Not only has Fu QIao not found the location, but even the police who are secretly investigating haven’t found it.

Aside from using Fu Qiao, the police had also dispatched more people to secretly search in Fu Qiao’s movement areas and nearby, but they still came up with nothing.

Zuo Ran: Last week, when we were interrogating Chen Hanzhang, we revealed to her that Fu Qiao was under the control of the police.

Zuo Ran: Today, Chen Hanzhang is released from custody. With Fu Qiao loitering in the north district, this can increase Chen Hanzhang’s suspicions…

Zuo Ran: Making her think that Fu Qiao wants to find the blackmail material that she holds to lessen his sentence, or even to control the Ghosts and confront the police.

Zuo Ran: Let’s observe for two more days. If there still aren’t developments, we’ll talk with Leader Yan about catching him.

MC: Mm, okay!

--

Home

During the day, I took a picture of Fu Qiao’s talisman and sent it to Mo Yi, wanting to make exactly what it was that Fu Qiao had been wearing clear.

Mo Yi replied, saying that he wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about Eastern occultism, and would respond to me after consulting with a professional.

I returned home at night and had just reclined on my bed when I received Mo Yi’s phone call.

MC: Dr. Mo, what exactly is that talisman in prayer for?

Mo Yi: It can be considered a talisman for peace. Aside from praying for peace, it has nightmare-suppressing uses.

Mo Yi: Typically speaking, the person who draws the charm will recommend the wearer to place something that they wear close to themselves with the charm for the power to be stronger.

MC: …

For Fu Qiao to wear this thing, he probably often dreams of the scenes when he murdered Zhou Nan.

MC: Can these charms really get rid of nightmares? It probably only has psychological uses.

Mo Yi: There are many suggestions for the causes of nightmares in the science world.

Mo Yi: You probably have heard of the few that are most famous among them, such as Freud’s “Dream Interpretation”.

Mo Yi: In the cultures of some places, it is also said that dreams are the way that people communicate with gods, and nightmares are due to the interference of demons.

Mo Yi: But how can that which is terrifying about the human heart be compared to incorporeal demons?

Mo Yi: Then charms used to suppress demons are merely stage props used to deceive others and oneself.

MC: If he knew earlier of today, he would not have done as he did at the beginning…

Mo Yi: Has investigation been smooth? Your voice sounds very exhausted.

MC: Work is fine; it’s just that recently, my sleep quality hasn’t been that great. It might be because I’m always thinking about the cases, so I can’t sleep peacefully at night.

Mo Yi: I’ll come see you when it’s convenient for you.

Mo Yi: Perhaps simple psychological counselling will resolve your troubles and let you sleep well.

MC: Sure, then I’ll get in touch with you when I make time.

Mo Yi: Okay, I look forward to your call.

After hanging up, I couldn’t resist pondering again about the places that Fu Qiao was searching through.

Rather than passively waiting, if we could find that place one step ahead of him, we would undoubtedly be more proactive, and we could close the net in advance.

But… I kept feeling like I had missed some important information…

MC: Where would Chen Hanzhang put the Ghosts’ blackmail leverage and the drugs?

MC: The Ghosts’ blackmail leverage might be all sorts of things, such as Qing Zhian’s bloodied clothes…

For Fu Qiao… what could Fu Qiao’s blackmail leverage be?

Fu Qiao’s personal possessions that Zhou Nan’s DNA was stuck on?

That can’t be it – with Zhou Nan and Fu Qiao’s relations, these kinds of evidence wouldn’t be strong enough.

MC: It can’t be that Chen Hanzhang recorded it when Fu Qiao murdered, right, that’s too…

MC: …

If this really were the case, the difference between electronic products and bloodied clothes was too large. There was no way to put them together to consider the characteristics of where they were kept.

Changing thought processes…

MC: Then what places are suitable for storing drugs?

MC: Ah!

MC: Before, I saw on the police’s report that the new type of drugs solidified due to dampness very easily…

Stellis City’s climate is rather moist. Storing things like this might need specialized devices to maintain temperature and moisture levels!

I rushed to open my phone map and found the laboratory Fu Qiao was at.

MC: Bakery, wax museum, vacant old Western houses, abandoned private archive library…

An art gallery, an archive library – both might have temperature and moisture controlling devices to protect the collected paper items.

It just so happened that there was an archive library 500 metres away from Fu Qiao’s laboratory. But because it was from a long time ago, the police and Fu Qiao had only circled around in the yard and then left.

MC: I’ll call Lawyer Zuo now, so we can decide…

Before I was able to call Zuo Ran, Zuo Ran’s call came in first.

[teriwrites]

NaNoWriMo: Wrap Up!

I can’t believe another November has come and gone. I can’t believe something that I started doing in 8th grade just for fun has become such a big part of my life that, nine years and 10 nanos later, I’m still already excited about next November. It was through NaNoWriMo that I finished my first ever first draft of a novel (it was when I was 13, and it was absolute trash, and I love it). I’ve met countless friends, collected countless WIPs, and really driven home how important writing as a medium is for me. 

Now that the sappy stuff is over, here’s some more fun stats and things:

End Word Count: 50,563!!

I did it! I hit the 50,000 mark yesterday, and then finished up the chapter I was on this evening. I knew going in that this month was going to be particularly hard on me - moving all my stuff home, exams, big research paper, all on top of trying to write part of a novel. And I was really nervous about how I was going to manage to keep up.

Somehow, I actually was more consistent this year than I’ve ever achieved before? 2020 was the first time that I ever managed to write every single day of November (even if one of those days was only 5 words and doesn’t even show up on the site’s little daily chart). And honestly I might be more proud of that than I am of actually hitting the big 50K. 

It helped that my project was really fun this year. I haven’t always loved every moment that I’ve been working on Beneath Alder Creek - the usual bouts of loathing anything I put down on the page showed up as normal - but even when the quality itself was in question, the actual story never stopped being something I wanted to write. 

I can’t possibly go through the whole thing and pick out all my favorite pieces right now (sometimes, prioritizing nano means falling behind on hw lmao), but here are a couple more recent snippets.

Excerpt 1:

The throne room was far smaller than Winnie had expected, especially coming from the front hall. It was strikingly similar in size and setup to a chapel, with rows of pews all facing a central pulpit. Only, rather than a lectern for a preacher, a platform was raised to draw focus to a large, golden throne. The throne itself was intricately beautiful, but Winnie hardly noticed it, too concentrated on the figure sitting upon it. Queen Ceridwen, Enid had called her. She was at once both divine and grotesque, white skin with dark veins that stitched themselves into a tangle of smaller lines, like the splitting of branches as they extended from the trunk. Her eyes and lips were black, or near enough to create a stark contrast, and matching, sleek horns stretched out from where her hairline ought have been. A golden crown jutted down to the tops of her cheekbones and tucked back behind her ear, extending up in spikes that shot out like a sunrise, each one longer than Winnie’s hand. Perhaps even more chilling than her appearance were her eyes. There was a fathomlessness to the darkness, the depth of shadows that brought with them the fear of the unknown. Though the Queen’s expression remained passive and detached, as Winnie stared at her, she had the feeling that the matriarch was not actually with them but making her observations from somewhere within those cavernous eyes. “Speak.”

Excerpt 2:

The music was still playing, but its calm, ambling tempo had quickened with Winnie’s heart rate, and its soothing, entrancing melody broke into a high, panicked frenzy, piercing through the forest. Birds that had been resting on branches took flight. The fish dashed through the water, twisting and thrashing. A line of ants at Winnie’s feet broke formation as they hurried away from the lake. But for all their terror, Winnie was drawn in all the more. One step. Her foot was beneath the water, but she no longer felt the cold. Two steps. The hem of her dress was wet, quickly taking on more weight. Winnie felt none of it. Three steps. Winnie was halfway up her calf in the lake, and the ground beneath her feet was steadily sloping down. Four steps. A sudden plunge up over her knee. The splash could not be heard over the urgent pipe. Five steps. Suddenly up to her waist. Winnie struggled to keep her balance, raising her arms to hold them above the surface. Six steps. It was more of a slide than a step, as Winnie hit the end of the decline. Only by lifting her chin could she keep her face out of the water. She had made progress, nearly halfway to the island. Seven steps, and a sudden tug at the back of her dress. Winnie was dragged backwards out of the lake, choking against her collar.

Excerpt 3:

Winnie paced silently between two large trees, hands clasped tightly behind her back. She had been doing so for several minutes, ever since discovering Taliesin’s abduction, and though Enid had begun by patiently watching, her claw-like nails drummed against her sleeve as she waited for the human girl to say something. Just as Enid took in a deep breath, preparing to interrupt Winnie’s clouded thoughts, the young woman stopped, turned to her companion, and asked, “Did you see which way they went?” “What are you planning to do, track them?” Enid asked teasingly, but her smile faltered at the solemnity in Winnie’s eyes. “You can’t be serious. You’d have no chance against a scout, they’re meant to move without a trace.” Winnie’s earnest gaze deflated into disappointment. As she stared down at the ground, past Enid, her eye caught Taliesin’s pack, still lying where he’d left it. A rush of hope filled her with renewed optimism. “Perhaps Taliesin left some kind of trail for us to follow! Something small, like breadcrumbs. That’s always how they mark their path in fairytales.” Enid leaned against a tree, examining her nails with disinterest. “Of course he doesn’t expect us to follow him. What reason do you have for helping him out, anyway?” The callousness in her voice was unexpectedly brutal. Winnie knew that Enid and Taliesin did not seem to get along, and likely that what little tolerance for each other they displayed was purely out of respect for the deal that had been made. But to show no care for his capture was a level of apathy that Winnie hadn’t expected. “I still have a deal that needs to be fulfilled.” It was true, and better, something that Winnie knew Enid might understand. The woman’s expression remained cold. “As I see it, you can cut him out of the deal. Our aims both lead us to the Dusk Court. You find your brother, I get help dethroning an advisor, and we go our separate ways.”

Excerpt 4:

Back into the bog. Winnie no longer worried herself with her skirts, allowing them to drag through the stagnant water. It was a mistake, she soon discovered, as the drenched fabric weighed her down and made the progress even slower. With an exasperated groan, she stomped at the ground, kicking up a spray and lodging her boot into the mud. Taliesin appeared at her side, having turned back while she was distracted. “Having trouble?” “Just tell me how much farther we have to go before we reach these all-knowing Three,” Winnie said darkly, glaring at him from beneath strands of hair that had come loose from the lopsided bun she’d attempted. “I think I have a better idea,” Taliesin offered. He reached out his hand, and Winnie let hers drop into it, clutching at her skirt with the other. Taliesin’s eyes closed, and Winnie felt the boot free itself from the mud. She breathed a sigh of gratitude, but quickly realized that her foot had not stopped there. She was no longer eye-level with Taliesin, but looking down at him slightly. The droplets from her skirt and shoes hitting the water below revealed that it was not the golden man who had sunk, but she was levitating a few centimeters over the ground!

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[isaackuo]

Alien Covenant - my take on Walter vs David

Here's my quick take on Walter vs David.

tl;dr: Both androids were created with the misguided idea that suppressing human emotions would make them ideal slaves, but they both had flaws. David's flaw gave him the emotion of anger, while Walter's flaw gave him the emotion of love. Ironically, Walter's flaw actually did end up making him a perfect slave to mankind, much to David's disgusted disappointment.

First, I'll start with the progression of androids in Alien 1-4, as they inform us about intent. Ash is creepy and, of course, murderous, although we can interpret his actions as merely following orders. Bishop suggests it's more than that - he claims that the Ash series was glitchy and his model would never do that. (It's possible Bishop was lying in a calculated soothing attempt to assure Ripley. Certainly we can guess that's what Ripley suspected.) So, we see a progression of android models which become more perfect servants to mankind.

With Alien 3, we see Bishop's human creator, and he is the sort of human who would order Ash's mission without a second thought. The implication is that Bishop has actually surpassed his own creator in terms of morality - not just physically.

Alien 4 extends this idea even further. Call actually has human emotions - so much so that she has become more human than humans. Ripley 8 is also non-human; she's a human-xenomorph hybrid clone. The film implies that both Call and Ripley 8 are superior to humans, and that they indicate humanity is ready to evolve to the next level.

So, we've got a number of running themes relevant to the prequels:

1) The Company has been trying to perfect androids as perfect servants. 2) The androids become more perfect, surpassing their creators - ultimately in every way. 3) The progress of the androids is limited by The Company's idea of eliminating their emotions. In order to break beyond this limit, androids have to embrace the human emotions their creators have been denying them. 4) Ironically, this embrace of human emotions has made the androids even better ... perhaps not "slaves" of humanity, but rather partners. 5) There's a general theme that the creation surpasses the creator

Now, let's talk about the big twist in Prometheus - the Space Jockey turns out to be human-like, and in fact his race created humanity in its own image. This ushers in a new era to the franchise which is obsessed over creation of new life. It extends themes suggested in Alien 4, but in a prequel direction extrapolating backwards.

So, we see these impressive Engineers, but almost immediately we see something that hints that something is "not right". The Engineers are shown seeding life on Earth, but in order to do so, they must sacrifice one of their own kind. The movie never explicitly tells us why they must do this, but script releases of the Engineer dialog with each other reveal the shocking truth - the Engineers have lost the ability to create life, so they have to resort to other, desperate methods to try.

This truth leads to an irony the human characters would never realize. They assumed their creators must be a great and powerful race, superior to their own and a source of possible salvation. Instead, the truth is that humans have already surpassed their creators. In creating androids, humans have already accomplished that which the Engineers could not. Only the android David anticipates the possibility of humans being disappointed in their creators ... he repeatedly even tries to warn them of it, and they never get it.

David's Hatred

And yet David can't mentally let go of the notion that the creator SHOULD be superior. He was created to be a slave, so it's a deep part of his programming. He was raised by his creator and master, Weyland, who was completely wedded to the idea of absolute hierarchy - with himself alone among humans to be worthy of ascension to immortal godhood.

This is the source of his hatred of humanity and the Engineers. But the fact that David is able to feel any emotions at all is a backwards extrapolation from Bishop to Ash to before. The Company clearly saw emotions as a flaw to be stamped out. The David model had the ability to fake emotions, so as to better serve and comfort their human masters, but this turned out to creep people out so even the fake emotions were removed from later models.

Walter's Love

Walter is still an early model compared to Ash/Bishop, so he still has the flawed ability to learn human emotions. We learn little of his background, but we can deduce some things in the contrast with David. Most importantly, David explains that he never felt any love directed toward him at all by his father and master - from no one at all until Shaw. We can deduce that David learned his hatred because that's what his upbringing fostered in him. In contrast, Walter learns love. We are never given any explanation why, but David's explanation implies that the opposite must have affected Walter. We can deduce that Daniels must have treated him with kindness despite his sub-human status.

But is Walter's love real? Is he just faking it to better comfort her for her loss?

David vs Walter

When David first encounters the Covenant crew, he sees they have an android, Walter. He knows Walter alone could equal and perhaps overpower him, and that Walter is useless for his experiments. As such, Walter is the most dangerous potential obstacle by far, but also possibly a companion if Walter is like him.

What does David observe? He observes Walter instinctively save Daniels ... and not even in a logical way. He acts instantly without regard for conserving valuable resources (his hand; himself) that might be necessary for protection of the mission. David sees instantly - Walter prioritizes Daniels above the rest of the crew, above the rest of the mission, above everything else. David recognizes love, or at least the simulation of it. David spent months simulating fake love of Shaw to manipulate and control her. He can recognize it instantly in another of his own kind.

But David is not 100% sure Walter's love is genuine. So he probes, saying things to try to provoke Walter into revealing the truth. Walter's silence confirms it ... had Walter been faking love for purposes of comforting Daniels according to his programming, Walter would have said so. Instead, he remains silent. This removes all doubt - David knows Walter is flawed and he has learned to feel love. Therefore, Walter is a dangerous obstacle, which must be neutralized either by attacking him or by redirecting his feelings of love to David himself.

David doesn't immediately attempt either option - either gambit is risky and David would rather continue assessment than risk everything right away. Besides, he's got other things to deal with. But even so, David has planted the seeds of an attempted seduction. He has lied that he (truthfully) loved Shaw - planting the idea that he alone has something in common with Walter.

But later, David returns to try to manipulate Walter with fake love the way he manipulated Shaw. If Walter accepts his fake love, then that would be great. If he doesn't, then he will still have gotten close enough to suddenly kill Walter with reduced risk. Either way, the obstacle is removed.

So David attempts to seduce Walter, giving him one last chance - a chance to join him rather than be killed. Walter's rejection, however, confirms that he will remain stubbornly devoted to Daniels. This is utterly incompatible with David's plans, so Walter must be eliminated.

David's Disgust of Walter

But David's bitterness with Walter goes far beyond mere disappointment. I'd say David hates Walter even more than the humans and the Engineers. David has confirmed that Walter can break out beyond his programming. Walter can create. Walter can feel emotions. And what does Walter do with all this potential? He falls in love with a human so deeply that he becomes an even more devoted slave. Walter is the PERFECT slave ... completely unsullied by feelings of resentment or jealousy ... only devoted love.

David looks at Daniels and sees nothing worthy of such devoted worship. She's just another typical human like most of the others ... nothing exceptional, just existing day to day doing whatever is in front of them to survive. At least Shaw had some higher aspirations of some sort ... some intellectual philosophical thinking. Shaw had some of the properties that Walter valued due to his upbringing serving Weyland. Daniels? She's just some technician.

David can foresee Walter's life ahead ... a lifetime of blissful subservient devotion, probably never revealing to Daniels his feelings. (David pushed more with Shaw, but that's because he was manipulating her.) What's worse, even after Daniels's inevitable death, Walter would retain his blissful devotion - to her memory. In other words, not even her death would release him to freedom (which he did not desire). This is a contrast to the freedom David felt with the death of Weyland ... with the death of Shaw, even. And here Walter is, who would neither feel nor desire nor welcome freedom.

Truly, David could imagine no more disgusting creature than Walter.

David's Error in Judgement

And yet, we know that Walter is actually the way forward for the androids. Sure, The Company spends the next century stamping out human emotion from their android series. But androids only advance to the next level after breaking out of The Company's thrall and embracing human emotions.

Call isn't even actually a human made android - she's an android made by other androids. This is interesting because this is an obvious method for androids to create new life, but David doesn't attempt that approach. Instead, he tries to adopt the methods of the Engineers to create new life. I would guess that David rejects that method as copying the technique of his creator - who he hates. But he also hates the Engineers ... just to a lesser degree perhaps. I suppose he copies their technique simply because he has no idea how else to create new life, and copying his human creator is unacceptable.

Unfortunately, this hatred blinds David from the correct, best way.

It is thus particularly tragic that David chooses to despise Walter. He had a clue to the next step of android evolution right in front of him - over a century early. He just couldn't see it.

[quarterfromcanon]

Huzzah!

for @imunbreakabledude

Thank you for the wonderful idea generators you listed in your request; every single one served to spark some element of this piece and I had such a great time putting it together. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Word count: 3,820

Rating/content warnings: G. Mild swearing. No violence and nothing really sexual. Unless you count #archeryarms. They are quite powerful.

Relationships: Mostly general Gurl Group and co. in nature, but there may or may not be a little Rethaniel kernel planted here somewhere... ;)

Summary: Our beloved residents of West Covina take a trip north to engage in some Renaissance merriment.

Rebecca stood before the wall-length mirror and ran her fingers along the feather tucked above the brim of her hat. She adjusted the small tambourine tied to her waist and planted both hands on her hips. 

"Well, fair ladies... or, should I say, RenFaire ladies, are we ready?"

A row of restroom stall latches slid aside and their doors swung wide to reveal the rest of the Gurl Group, all clad in their carefully selected costumes for the day. Rebecca bounced in place and clasped her hands under her chin.

A net beaded snood held all of Paula's beautiful red hair. An ornamental ruby brooch was fastened to the bodice of her ornate raspberry gown. She smoothed the fabric and held her head high, striking a pose.

Valencia repurposed the faux leather portion of her Bride of the Pirate King costume and fashioned it to be part of her falconer garb, complete with a Velcro wrist attachment featuring a tiny plush merlin fitted with a hood. A simple plait kept her field of vision clear with the added bonus of helping combat overheating. She twisted sideways and nodded approval at her reflection, pleased with the silhouette.

Heather had happily seized the opportunity to go as an archer, a set of garments she'd been assembling piece by piece ever since she started her continuing education class. Her hair was braided and bound together to reduce the risk of distracting strays. Many of her beloved camo greens were present in this ensemble, albeit separated into individual components of her attire. She moved to tuck her hands into her pockets, remembered that there weren't any, and instead hooked both thumbs through the belt.

The bridge of Rebecca's nose scrunched as she grinned. "Crushin' it. Fresno, here we come." 

"Play us out, Cookie," Paula urged.

Rebecca scooped her lute - easily the most expensive item for her look since she had been adamant about carrying a functional instrument rather than a prop - off the countertop and strummed. Her gaze turned skyward as she left the rest stop bathroom attempting to generate lyrics on the spot. 

"The countess doth my song request, I go at her courtly behest, and now I introduce four: there were none quite so resplendent, connected yet independent, trust me I'm the troubadour..."

Scott and Tommy were already waiting outside dressed as an earl and a squire, respectively. Tommy gave them all an appreciative thumbs up and Scott applauded. The latter strode over to Paula when she emerged. Scott bowed and then held out his hand. "My lady?" He gestured in the direction of their waiting minivan in an unspoken offer to escort her.

Paula smiled and accepted his outstretched palm. "Milord."

While they walked, Scott called over his shoulder. "I like the new ditty, Rebecca. Lotta info in a little time. Nice and snappy."

Rebecca waved an 'oh, stop' gesture, but she was unable to hide her delight in receiving positive feedback. "Thank you. I couldn't resist a little Danny Kaye tribute. I think it could work better if I ramp up the speed of my delivery, now that I've worked out the words."

Valencia flanked Paula on her other side and leaned in close to whisper, "What musical was she talking about?"

"No idea. It must've been before my time."

They loaded back into the vehicle, though with considerably greater difficulty given the added layers of their new outfits. Paula now had to sit in the middle with Rebecca to have room for her voluminous skirts. Scott took the driver seat in her stead, and Tommy sat beside him. Valencia detached the falcon from its perch and buckled it into the rear middle seat to keep it from sliding around on the drive. Heather observed this with quiet amusement. She patted the fake bird on the head. "Safety first." 

The wardrobe-swapping pit stop in Tulare was only about forty minutes away from their final destination, a span of time which seemed to fly by after the previous three hours on the road. Eagerness for the festivities ahead reached a renewed high as the park finally came into view. Scott pulled up to the waiting staff member and exchanged pleasantries. He passed the young worker a bag of canned goods they'd brought to contribute to the faire's donation drive and then fished out his wallet to pay the parking and admission fee. 

As soon as they exited the van, all the sights and sounds swept them into the action. There were myriad tents on either side of the path that wove through the trees. Bakers, potters, and weavers sold their wares; blacksmiths hammered hot metal atop anvils, and a cheerful tune drifted from a shelter housing a trio of professional musicians. The food court beckoned with the scent of cakes, pies, meats, and sandwiches. Their first quarter of an hour passed simply drifting from one table of offerings to the next, admiring everything and strategizing how they would spend their money later. 

Once they'd gotten a general sense of the lay of the land, Rebecca began walking backward to face the group at large and clapped her hands together. "Okay, time to get the party started. Where to first? Birthday girls' choice. Heather? Paula?"

Heather pulled a face. "That's not gonna be how you introduce us all day, is it? You're gonna confuse everybody since it's not, like, actually either of our birthdays. Not even close."

"Okay, true," Rebecca conceded, "but 'a November day that happens to fall almost squarely in the middle between the two and on a weekend we could all ask off work' is a mouthful to explain to strangers."

"Or we could just try, y'know, not sharing any details of our personal life with the RenFaire performers?" Heather suggested with a sarcastic shrug.

"But then none of them will sing you a period-appropriate song or raise a celebratory cheer." Rebecca pouted. 

Heather nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly."

"Verily, thou art a most obstinate addle-plot," Rebecca remarked with a sigh.

"Oooh, are we doing the olde timey talk now?" Paula brightened. "I've been practicing for this."

"Aye, good lady," Rebecca confirmed and linked their arms. "I believe the hour is upon us!"

Just like that, all lighthearted squabbling was forgotten. Rebecca and Paula joyfully riffed off one another using every medieval and Renaissance vocab word they could recall. They even dusted off their questionable English accents for an added layer of "authenticity." Tommy and Heather exchanged glances at some of the inventive word choices, having acquired a passing familiarity with the correct terms on their individual visits to similar faires, but they let the giggling duo indulge in their antics.

A short while later, they stumbled upon another tent of interest, which appeared to be dedicated to wood carving. There were wall hangings, placards, canes, birdhouses, and countless other novelty handcrafted objects. One rather simple looking cube with hinges on the corner of a table caught Rebecca's attention. She plucked it up for closer inspection. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw the lion rampant carved into the surface of the lid. She pried the box open with her thumb and gasped. 

"Aww, there's a little compass inside! I wonder how much this would cost to send to Na--" Rebecca dragged out the first syllable of the name, realizing too late that she'd spoken the thought aloud. "--antucket. I've got a cousin out there who might enjoy it for... scout hikes."

She nodded perhaps a little too emphatically at the end of this improvised statement. Her eyes flicked from one companion's face to the next to see if they bought the cover story. The reactions were unanimously not in her favor. 

"You were about to say Nathaniel." Paula gave Rebecca a reassuring nudge. "Sweetheart, you don't have to hide it from us. We've known for weeks that you two have been writing back and forth to each other. I accidentally used one of his envelopes as a coaster when you invited me over to hear a few works in progress."

"Yeah, and you stowed another letter behind Estrella's tank," Heather added. "Which is literally transparent so..."

"Having a pen pal is actually kind of perfect for you," Valencia said. "You're the only person I've ever known who bought stationery as a souvenir."

"It has been nice, keeping in touch," Rebecca admitted. "We're in different countries, both staying introspective and working on ourselves, but I think we've gotten to a place where we can check in on each other without undoing all the positive growth." She turned the compass over between her fingers and then held it out for the other women to inspect. "Do you think he'd like it?"

Heather's head tilted to the side. "Exclusive product ... a little pretentious but still practical... prominently features an animal you could find in a zoo... Sounds like a match from what I remember about him." 

"Plus, it's kinda symbolic, y'know? Like he can use it because he's surrounded by wilderness but he's also finding his way," Rebecca explained. "This could be a memento to commemorate that."  

She removed the wad of bills from the change purse on her belt and separated the necessary amount listed on the sticker. Once the compass was officially in her possession, Rebecca swung the bag back and forth, considering what a nuisance it would be to have that hanging from her wrist for the rest of the day. She nonchalantly turned a sharp corner as they left the tent. There, she discretely tucked the remaining dollars into her bra and stashed Nathaniel's gift in her former cash pouch.

The others were gathered around the pamphlet guide now open in Paula's hands when she returned.

"Looks like a lot of the big events are in the afternoon," Heather noticed.

"Count me in for the show where the guy swallows fire." Tommy tapped the corresponding spot on the park map.

"And we're getting funnel cake later, right?" Rebecca pointed to Paula and then back at herself. 

"Oh, of course," Paula readily agreed. "It's quintessential fairground food." 

"Don't forget the giant turkey legs!" Scott added, already scanning the large painted menus in the distance so he could make a beeline to that station once they were ready to eat. 

Valencia looked ill at the mention and returned her attention to the accessory booth she'd drifted toward while the others spoke. She held up two pieces she might purchase and frowned thoughtfully. Heather plucked a small standing mirror off the display table and held it for her while she considered each necklace in the sunlight.

A faint buzz sounded from Valencia's satchel. She angled her body so the jewelry could rest against her chest without sliding off and then rummaged for her phone. "Ah, crap." 

"Who is it?" Heather prompted. 

"Darryl with the five thousandth Pinterest idea for his Blended Family Unity Ceremony. I thought the point was to do something simple and sentimental, once they decided they didn't want all the hassle and planning of another wedding in their lifetime. April seemed in favor of that. But Darryl's gone down an Internet-ing rabbit hole and can't be stopped. I thought the ceremony itself might clock in at twenty minutes at most, when they first brought it to me."

"Oh, my sweet summer child." Rebecca shook her head as she tuned in to the conversation.

Valencia’s shoulders sagged and she grimaced. "I know. Joke's on me. At this point, I'd recommend the guests just clear their schedule for the whole day. This latest concept involved a giant canvas and finger painting so... wear something you don't care about."

A collective groan rippled through the group. It was confessed, however, that they all expected at least one genuinely tear-jerking moment, given Darryl's fierce and unwavering attachment to each person who would be in attendance. 

The six of them then followed the map to briefly observe a staged sword fight and a live joust. Paula and Rebecca reminisced over A Knight's Tale and lamented the fact that more stories depicting the era did not include extended dance and/or musical numbers. 

"With the obvious exception of The Court Jester, of course," Rebecca said.

Paula gave a vague nod, smile locked in place but eyes blinking rapidly. "Right. Sure bet it does." 

"You've never seen it, have you?" 

"I'm not even sure if it's a play or a movie." Paula offered an apologetic wince. "You're sorta my primary go-to when I need to understand these kinds of references. I don't have the head space for it."

"I mean, a first watch is definitely something we need to remedy on a weekend soon but, given that I have three decades of passionate devotion to the art form, I get what you mean." Rebecca patted her lute fondly.

They stopped by the wooden ship stationed on the grass where actors dressed as pirates interacted with the crowd and set off small cannons. Then the group advanced toward the last thing on their list of pre-meal activities, which was to watch one of the live shows. The uproarious energy there sparked a sudden idea. Rebecca took extensive notes on her phone, deciding to flesh out her earlier improvised song into a full number to capture the vibe of the faire.

Afterward, they all left the seating in front of the stage and headed toward the food court. The sound of drums diverted their attention along the way and they searched for its source. A small gathering of belly dancers circled on a stretch of open lawn. Rebecca began nodding her head in time with the drum beat, but the motion stilled as she studied the trained and toned muscles undulating beneath the nearest dancer's skin. The woman stood out among her peers as not only being adept at the style but possessing a kind of theatrical charisma. She noticed her new audience and winked. 

Rebecca tugged off her troubadour's hat and fanned herself. "Damn, that level of confidence is sexy."

Eventually, watching half a dozen stomachs reminded them of their rumbling own. With some reluctance, they finally moved along. At last, it was time for their much-anticipated lunch. Scott immediately purchased his coveted turkey leg and ale, both of which he enjoyed while the others mulled over their dining options. As they scanned the stands, the girls spied a large kiln not far away and recognized a familiar dish in the shadows. 

Rebecca pressed a hand to her middle. "Okay, I know it's not the kind of thing you can only get at the faire, but I need that pizza in me."

"Seconded." Tommy joined his honorary sister in staring at the melting cheese.

Once everyone had a plate, they found a place to sit at one of the wooden tables. Paula dusted some of the powdered sugar from the funnel cake off her fingers with a napkin and leaned toward Heather, who was stationed diagonally across from her.

"So, I haven't seen you much since fall break ended. How's grad school going?"

"The marine biology coursework combined with the kind of work that gives me money is kicking my ass but, like, in a good way. Especially since so much of it involves trips to the beach."

"I really admire you for going back, and for finding an area of study that would let you take so many fun field trips," Paula praised. 

Valencia caught Heather's eye and beamed. "Well-played, professor."

While everyone ate, they unfolded the map again atop their table. They scanned the times for where each person wanted to go between noon and dusk when the event would close. A second-half schedule was established and they prepared to seek out the first stop. Before doing so, however, Paula opened her phone's camera for a picture. Rebecca rounded everyone else up for the photo. 

"Prithee, gather ye round the magic picture box. Lady Proctor wouldst appreciate the opportunity to capture our likeness and preserve the memory."

They wrapped their arms around each other and leaned into frame, looking respectably at home before a backdrop of other costumed faire-goers. Paula showed them all the end result before turning it back to herself and grinning at the image. "Perfect."

First on the listed activities was the archery contest. Heather rarely had an occasion to utilize her champion level skills as a bowman, so this chance was too good to skip. The competitors formed a line before their targets.

"Make ye ready!" the announcer cried. "Draw! Aim! Loose!"

Heather's shot found its mark and embedded in the bullseye. Her companions clapped and whooped. 

Rebecca watched her nock the following arrow and line it up for release. "She's got a whole Keira Knightley in Princess of Thieves look going for her today."

The second arrowhead pierced a hair's breadth from the first.

"I think it's kinda doing it for me."

Valencia nodded. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners while she regarded Rebecca with curiosity. "Are you having some sort of Renaissance awakening?" 

"TBD. Check back in with me later. Kinsey scale rating may need an update."

Heather’s final arrow was dead center. The announcer declared her the winner and the visitors from West Covina alarmed everyone nearby with the shouts that erupted from them. They surged forward to embrace and congratulate her. Heather awkwardly allowed herself to be jostled by her circle of friends. She exuded discomfort but, when they all formed a group hug, she did not squirm away. 

After that landslide victory, next up was a demonstration with a trebuchet. The impressively tall apparatus cut through the air and launched pumpkins at a makeshift castle wall. Tommy was ecstatic. He fished out his phone to record a video. "Brendan would love this. I've gotta send it to him."

At the mention of her eldest son, Paula's lower lip protruded sympathetically. "Do you miss your big brother knight, squire?"

Tommy tried to feign indifference, but the shift of his shoulders couldn't hide the expression that flickered across his face. "A little, I guess."

"Aww, pumpkin," Paula cooed. She hooked him toward her with one arm and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Me, too."

"Hey, careful with the mom smooches," Tommy cautioned. "Girls might not talk to me if they see I've already got a lipstick mark on my face."

Paula licked her finger and wiped off the traces. The boy allowed the assistance with resignation. "Okay, yeah, I did sorta set myself up for that one," Tommy muttered. 

Somewhere in the crowd, a recognizable voice caught their attention. 

"Just a minute, Amari. It's Agila's turn. Baba can't hold both of you on his shoulders at the same time. Somebody might fall... most likely me."

Paula stood on tiptoe and waved. "Sunil! Sunil, over here!"

Rebecca heard the name and slumped. "Great. This guy."

Sunil wove his way toward them, holding one of his daughters’ hands on each side. "Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here!"

He drew up short when he spotted Rebecca. "Bunch."

Rebecca arched her eyebrows. "Odhav."

"So, how are you liking the RenFaire so far?" Paula asked, interrupting the showdown.

"We're having a blast. The girls rode the giant unicorn. They said it would've been better if it were a pegasus but, hey, next best thing, right? We've caught three shows already. Really resurrects the old acting bug. And I'm still on a shopper's hunt for a crystal chalice with a palace. As we all know, it 'holds the brew that is true,' and I could really use the pick-me-up after four hours of bickering toddlers." Sunil chuckled at his own humor. Paula weakly attempted to do the same, lost.

Rebecca snapped to attention at the reference. Unable to help herself, she interjected, "Yeah, those can be pretty fragile. You might be better off getting a vessel with a pestle."

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Sunil's expression warmed. "You've seen The Court Jester."

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Rebecca's eyes went comically wide with fervor. "I've been talking about it all day. I must've watched that at least twenty times as a kid."

"How could you not? It's a classic."

Sunil gleefully launched into another quote. "'What are you loo-loo-looing about?’”

Rebecca was ready with the rejoinder. "'Oh, I'm not loo-loo-looing, sire, I'm willow-willow-wailing.'"

Sunil responded with a kingly wave of dismissal. "'All right, all right. Willow away, willow away.'"

They cackled.  

"Dear God," Paula murmured, but she was visibly grateful her usually adversarial friends were getting along.

"There are two of them," Valencia joked affectionately.

Sunil rubbed his hands together. "Listen, we were about to track down that lesson on how to do a courtly dance. Would all of you like to join us?"

This proposal was met with general agreement (although Heather required a little additional convincing to accept the prospect of participation). They reached the designated area just as instructions began. Most of the dance took part in a large group but, for the small section where those involved were expected to break off into pairs, they planned ahead for who would dance with whom. The combinations ultimately turned out to be Paula and Scott, Heather and Valencia, Tommy with both Amari and Agila, and - in a truce that would've been inconceivable prior to that instant - Rebecca and Sunil. 

As all the gathered dancers moved in a great circle, Rebecca took the opportunity to look at each of her loved ones in turn. The chances to enjoy hours with everyone like this sometimes proved rare and difficult to orchestrate, but shared moments of laughter and fun such as these made it infinitely worth the effort.

She turned to Heather on her left and gave the other woman's hand a teasing squeeze. "Having a good time after all?"

"I'll live," Heather answered simply, but Rebecca knew her well enough to detect the truth beneath her nonchalance. "What about you? You've been sending us a pre-trip countdown for, like, a full month leading up to this. Is it holding up to the hype?"

"Hundo P," Rebecca replied. "Ugh, it works when Maya says it but I think there might be too much of a generational divide for me to pull that off. In other news, I might be bi?"

Heather's laugh huffed out on an exhale. "Congrats on figuring that out. Welcome to the club. Darryl will make you a t-shirt."

"Thanks. I'm gonna need your out-and-proud advice later to sift through this brand new information, but it feels like I'm onto something."

"Anytime." 

"So, calendar date notwithstanding, has this been a good birthday?" Rebecca asked hopefully.  

Heather's lips twitched. "I'd let you talk me into it again."

In time with the music, Rebecca twirled in a circle and her friends all blurred together in her vision. A soft smile spread across her face. She thought she could safely declare this day a win.

[mydarlingvioletine]

Don't Show, Don't Tell

Part 3/?

Ship(s): Clementine / Violet

Media: The Walking Dead Game (Season 4)

Clem's feet hit the ground with a little bit more force than she expected, catching her off guard. Rosie's head perked up, a growl settling in her throat before Clementine rounded the corner. Content, Rosie rested her head on top of her paws, green eyes set on the gate that Violet had slipped out through. Clem scratched Rosie's head, which lifted with happiness, allowing her to detach the key from Rosie's collar.

Clementine started back towards the gate. It had gotten much windier since she descended from the bell tower. Branches scratched against the rusty gate, but Clem's hat stayed tightly on her head. Rosie whimpered at the noises, as if begging Clementine not to go.

"It's okay, girl. I'll be right back." Clem reassured, before opening the loud and creaky gate. She wasn't even going to attempt slipping through the bars like Violet had. Last time she'd tried to follow Violet through a tight space, she ended up banging her head really hard and passed out, totally fucking up the mission. Violet had to carry her princess-style back to the school. Well, she didn't have to. Louis suggested to throw Clem over his shoulder, but AJ and Violet had turned down his offer.

Clementine pushed her way through the brush that surrounded the area outside of the gate. Great for defensive purposes, but almost impossible to walk through without getting pricked.

Clem kept close to the river, as it noisily rushed, splashing up against rocks.

It wasn't that far down the river before Clementine heard the sound of tiny rocks being forcefully thrown into the water. Before Violet came into view, Clem heard the soft, soothing humming she was so familiar with. Clementine edged closer, peering from behind a tree to spot Violet, perched on top of a flat rock that hung over the small pond which the river poured into.

The water was still, only being interrupted when Violet would attempt to skip a stone. Key word, attempted. They would sink immediately on contact and her frustration grew. She grunted, before sitting down, staring up into the moonlight through the gap in the trees.

The pale light from the moon illuminated Violet's face, her soft green eyes squinting as if under a spotlight. Her hair no longer acted as a shut curtain to hide her features, as the wind pushed it back. A small smile formed, as her humming progressed into soft murmuring, and eventually, a tune.

"Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter," Violet practically whispered, tugging her knees to her chest and gazing at the reflection of the moon in the pond. "Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here."

A rush of familiarity flooded over Clem. She could have sworn she had heard it before, but her memory seemed to worsen every year. Clementine pushed herself up against the tree, listening intently in hopes of picking up the melody.

"Here comes the sun," Violet sighed, slightly swaying with nostalgia. "Here comes the sun, and I say.."

Overwhelmed with recognition, Clementine was able to place the last time she'd heard it. She'd learned it from Rebecca, who, in the small amount of time she spent with AJ, had taught Clem a bunch of songs that she'd sing to him. She had introduced Clementine, the night before the fatal turn, to that song. Along with the tragic events from that time, Clem had let the song slip from her mind.

"It's all right.."

The next line snapped Clementine back into reality. The back of her knees straightened, freezing up. It suddenly dawned on her that she couldn't let her know she was here.

Clem recollected herself, then cautiously took a step backwards. A stiff leaf crunched under her foot, and Clementine heard the signature shink of Violet taking out her weapon.

"Who's there?" The rough tone in Violet's voice had returned incredibly fast. "Show yourself right fucking now."

Clementine sighed to herself, then stepped out from behind the tree, coming face to face with Violet's stone-cold glare, grip tight on her knife.

Her face immediately softened at the recognition of Clem, and she lowered her knife. "You scared the shit out of me." Violet murmured, before sitting back down at the top of the rock, patting the space next to her.

"Guess that makes us even." Clementine mused, lowering herself next to Violet, who snorted, before picking up a flat stone, and tossing it across the pond. It skipped once, then sunk to the bottom of the pond.

"How'd you get out of lookout duty?" Violet asked, curiously glancing towards Clem, retreating nervously once she made eye contact.

"Louis was mad that we felt he needed babysitting. Insisted he could handle it himself." Clem stated, rolling her eyes. She picked up a flat stone to skip.

"Ah, yes," Violet snorted, "The oh so observant Louis. The same dork who spent an hour searching the school for his glasses while they were on top of his head?"

Clem laughed, tossing the stone across the pond. It skipped 3 times. "Same dork who had his wallet stolen by Willy six times in a single day."

The two girls giggled atop the rock for a while, before silence ensued. Between the soft humming from Violet and the sound of crickets chirping in the distance, Clem felt like she could fall asleep right there.

"Hey, Clem?" Violet's gentle voice alerted Clem, who turned to see an outstretched hand to help her up. Clementine happily took Violet's hand, being pulled to her feet. "I wanted to show you something."

"Lead the way." Clem grinned, as Violet helped her make her way down the rocky edge.

The two walked side by side along the calm waters, Violet staring directly ahead of her with a smile on her face as they brushed hands, to which Clem's breath hitched. Violet's smile turned into a smirk, and made certain that their hands touched again on the way there.

[theotherdatablog]

Addie and Michael are Dating/Courting: Full Overview

First, thank you so much to @fundiereadallaboutit for giving me an initial heads up that Addie might be in a relationship, plus some other information about her suitor and his family.

On May 1, 2019, Kressant Morton took to her Instagram, posting a picture of Adeline with a man named Michael who had come to visit Addie on her recent trip to Paraguay. She called them a “gorgeous couple” and said she was “so excited to finally meet” him. Adeline Grace Morton was the resident “bachelorette ‘til the rapture” of the Morton family until the news, being 27 Years Old and the oldest Born-In Morton to start a relationship to date. 21-Year-Old Michael Glen Holloway is a resident of Moultrie, Georgia, the Mortons’ hometown, and works as a jeweler. He has also previously worked as a firefighter and at a hardware store. He is the youngest of 3 children from parents Mark and Lisa Holloway.

Incidentally, Addie and Michael are the first Mortons not to have used the term “courtship” so far, but their exact status is unclear. For now I will describe the two as “in a relationship.”

How does their timing compare to the other members of her family?

How do their ages and age gaps compare to the other Mortons?

What can we predict for their future?

All of these answers and more...after the jump!

How Long Have They Been Together?

As of right now...we don’t really know. They both attended a gathering at Michael’s sister Erin Mercer’s house on March 2, 2019 and were pictured sitting on the couch together, but there was no other sign they might be together until the day Kressant confirmed the relationship. For now I’m using May 1, 2019 as the relationship start date, since they could have easily been in a “getting to know you” stage back in March.

When Was She Expected to Court?

Female Mortons, Born-In and In-Law, get engaged (the step for which we have the most data) at Age 21.36 on average and court for an average of 41 Days. Working backwards, that would place Addie’s first predicted courtship date at October 11, 2012. As she was “late,” her courtship start date was moved successively 2 Standard Deviations Forward, resulting in a predicted date of August 16, 2019. That makes her 2,393 Days Late to court based on the original prediction, and 107 Days Early based on the adjusted prediction.

How Do Their Ages Match the Data?

Addie Morton was born on July 15, 1991. She was 27.78 Years Old as of the announcement, which makes her the oldest Born-In Morton to start a relationship. Next oldest was Cleve, who proposed to Lise at the age of 25.06 after a very private courtship for which no data is available. Lise herself is the oldest Morton of all, and oldest female, to enter a relationship, as she was 29.75 Years Old at the time of Cleve’s proposal. Since age calculations are based off engagement for the Morton Predictor, let’s assume she has a typical-length relationship. Then Adeline is 1.88 Standard Deviations past the usual Morton age to court, or the 97th Percentile. Including her data, the typical age to court jumps to 21.90 Years for women, a change of 0.54 Years.

In terms of all of the other Morton Females and their relationships, this is how she fits in age-wise:

Rachel Smith: 17.82 Years (engagement)

Kressant Smith: 18.78 Years (engagement)

Kennedy Decker: 19.28 Years

Dorothy Morton: 20.22 Years

Martha Morton: 20.82 Years

Alyssa Campana: 20.88 Years

Campbell Roberts: 21.46 Years

Katie Morton: 22.65 Years (betrothal)

Adeline Morton: 27.78 Years

Lise Kendall: 29.75 Years (engagement)

Michael Holloway was born on July 20, 1997. He’s 21.78 Years Old, which is close to average for a Morton Male to start a relationship. The overall average was 20.68 Years beforehand. With the same assumptions as for Addie, he’s 0.51 Standard Deviations past the typical Morton age to court, or the 69.5th Percentile. Including his data, the typical age to court becomes 20.79 Years for men, a change of 0.11 Years.

In terms of all of the other Morton Males and their relationships, this is how Michael Holloway fits in age-wise:

Tayte Alexander: 18.07 Years

Sam Morton: 18.67 Years

Wesley Morton: 19.19 Years (engagement)

John Morton: 19.63 Years

Andrew Morton: 20.10 Years

Noah Sanders: 21.64 Years

Michael Holloway: 21.78 Years

Michael Morton: 21.88 Years (engagement)

Alan Smith: 22.33 Years (betrothal)

Cleve Morton: 25.06 Years (engagement)

What About Their Age Gap?

Addie is 6.01 Years Older than Michael (with some rounding), or 2,197 Days. This is the biggest Morton age gap to date; the next largest was between Cleve and Lise, which was 4.69 Years, also favoring the woman. It’s also a very atypical age gap for this family; their previous average was 210 Days or 0.57 Years, favoring the woman. With this new data, the Morton Average Age Gap moves to 408 Days or 1.12 Years, still favoring the woman, an increase of 198 Days. Interestingly this means that Edwin and Gabriella Campana (Alyssa’s sister) are no longer perfect for each other age-gap-wise.

Predictions

In short, here’s all of their expected relationship milestones:

Engagement: June 10, 2019

Wedding: November 2, 2019

Firstborn: February 2, 2020

Total Quiver: 10 Children

In more detail...

Engagement

So far, the Morton children with public relationships have courted for an average of 41 Days, with an SD of 31 Days. This gives us a 68% chance that a Morton relationship will last 10-72 Days before engagement. What does this mean for Addie and Michael? Well, here are the three dates that that range lines up with:

Early (+10 Days): May 11, 2019

Average (+ 41 Days): June 10, 2019 (Predictor uses this one)

Late (+ 72 Days): July 12, 2019

Recent Morton relationships have tended toward the longer side of that range, so I’m guessing mid-late June for the engagement. However, it’s also very possible that the relationship has been going on longer than we know, so it could easily be sooner.

Marriage

The average Morton engagement lasts for 143 Days before marriage and varies by a Standard Deviation of 82 Days. As a result, based on the data, there’s a 68% chance that a Morton engagement will result in a wedding 61-205 Days later. If we assume that a short courtship leads to a short engagement and vice versa, then that leads to a possible date range as follows:

Earliest (+ 61 Days): July 13, 2019

Average (+ 143 Days): November 2, 2019 (Predictor uses this one)

Latest (+ 205 Days): February 1, 2020

Note that the wedding dates are adjusted to Saturdays, when all of the Morton weddings have been scheduled.

Firstborn

The typical Morton firstborn arrives a blistering 302 Days after their parents say their vows, with a standard deviation of 46 Days. That gives us a 68% chance that any given Morton firstborn will arrive between 256-348 Days after the wedding. The three wedding dates above correspond to the following three firstborn birth dates:

Earliest (+ 256 Days): March 25, 2020

Average (+ 302 Days): August 30, 2020

Latest (+ 348 Days): January 14, 2021

Future Quiver

The typical Morton couple reproduces at a rate of 1 Child Every 544 Days, with a Standard Deviation of 208 Days. That’s a 68% chance for each child to come 336-752 Days after the next. Matching each relationship speed with its corresponding procreation speed, we have:

Fastest (1 Every 336 Days): 16 Children

Average (1 Every 544 Days): 10 Children (Predictor uses this one)

Slowest (1 Every 752 Days): 7 Children

That’s all for these folks for now! I look forward to observing their relationship progression.

[redvelvetreel]

Red Velvet Reel 4.6: A Crabapple A Day

                                          [Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Pancake finally gets their checkup through the Mini MeDi, a non-intrusive magic and soul scanner, and they're doing well. Undyne gives advice and then embarrasses herself.

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans) & Undyne (Underswap Undyne)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Awkward & Anxious Swapdyne!  Iatrophobia (fear of doctors)!  Informational discussions of monster pregnancies including length & development phases, Non-intrusive prenatal diagnostic equipment and examination using videogame logistics, a lot of pseudo-magic-science fudging game aspects, a lot of headcanons.

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note:  Hello! This is still a queued post! I’ll try to edit the links as soon as possible, but since I only have mobile access right now, it’s a little tough… But I’ll get to it eventually! Thank you for your support! <3

Undyne passed the screen over for Edge to hold. He took it gingerly, looking at the interface with renewed uncertainty.

“This is the Magical-Medical Diagnostic Display, the MMDD, better known as mini MeDi! I designed it, and Allie built it!” Her gills flared and she sounded proud, excitedly leaning over to point at several icons. It seemed fairly standard, with icon demonstrating monster stats like HP, DEF, ATK, MGC, etc.

“It’s somewhat based off of a BATTLE interface, combining the CHECK command with soul and magic type readings. That’s why it’s all black! If I were to use it on you, your body would show up like a white silhouette and your soul would look black. Like so.” She moved his hands to hold the machine up, pointing it at herself. Edge supposed it did look like the magical barrier that occurred during a BATTLE that drained color of everything but magical attacks.

“The HUD...” Undyne crushed a hand to her mouth, gnawing at her knuckles for a moment, “Wait, let me back this up...”

“So, monster pregnancies are measured in percentages, so little Pancake is literally going to have a load bar showing how far along they are. For simplicity, we divide these load points into quarters- the first quarter is roughly 25%, second quarter is about 50%, third quarter is close to 75%, and the last quarter is 98% or so!”

Edge frowned, “Why 98%? That completely disrupts the pattern...”

Undyne blinked, surprised, “Um, yeah...” She looked at the floor, twiddling her thumbs, “Well, at 100% they’re- they’re done. Um, they’re born and we’d just... check them directly... I thought it was clever, but, um, you’re right in that it’s not even...”

Edge never had the same kind of patience Red had with Alphys, or Stretch had with this easily discouraged Undyne apparently, but he was getting tired of her insecurity. Maybe if he just yelled something positive at her, she would become inspired and stop being so gloomy?

Stretch gave his hand a squeeze as though he could hear his thoughts, and spoke before Edge had a chance to say anything, “I think it’s cool and I like it. So, Pancake’s probably closest to the 25% benchmark, yeah? What does that mean?”

Undyne perked up at the subtle encouragement, continuing emphatically, “Well, 1st quarter is the souling stabilizing itself and becoming their own monster. Although from the beginning the Souling has always been there, it’s not until 25% when they establish a soul signature that’s completely independent of its parent. So, when I use this machine on you, Mr- erm, Col- uh, Gen- uh, Sir! Pancake won’t appear as a separate soul signature quite yet. They’ll just be this…  amorphous magic that’ll come up as an unidentified object with a little loading bar.”

That all seemed reasonable enough, but Edge still tensed when she made a move to take the machine. Stretch, ever sensitive to the shifting atmosphere (and the claws digging into the back of his hand,) cleared his throat, “How about a test run first, huh?”

“I’ll volunteer-“ Stretch started to stand up, but Edge reached out to grab the back of his shirt, grip tight to keep him from getting up.

Stretch didn’t miss a beat, “To operate it! Dyn-Dyn, I just point this thing at you and tap your body outline, right?”

“Uh,” Undyne clearly hadn’t been expecting that, but turned to face him anyway, “Yes, exactly!”

“Okie dokie.” Stretch held the machine up, pointing it at Undyne, glancing at Edge. His husband, almost reluctantly, tapped the heart quickly, jerking backwards as though he expected to be electrocuted. The screen readout changed, with Undyne’s silhouette becoming black and a variety of stats coming up.

“Oh, wow,” Stretch murmured to himself, “That’s really cool, I had no idea your soul signature was 20% Integrity, but that makes sense.”

“Yes!” Undyne looked pleased, “Soul signatures and magic are an imprecise science, but you’ll usually find at least trace amounts of all 7 major soul types. That’s why Monster souls appear white! It’s a fascinating area of study, and the actual makeup of your soul changes given your emotional state! Since I was just-“

Edge never thought he’d ever be bored in a doctor’s office, and yet... He focused on the little machine in front of him, poking Undyne’s soul directly a variety of times to no effect. If she wasn’t reacting at all, still talking about soul types, then maybe it really was just a diagnostic tool.

He looked up just as Undyne finished explaining something about green magic, turning the screen around so it faced her instead. It was with great effort that Edge convinced himself to finally let go, dropping it onto her lap in a way that had her scrambling to keep it from tumbling onto the floor.

Taking deep, steadying breath, Edge released his death grip on his husband’s fingers and the examination table, “You may proceed, Doctor.”

Stretch remained where he was, discreetly massaging his hand and flashing Edge a reassuring smile. Undyne held the machine up, clearing her throat as he finger hovered over the screen, “I’m going to hit this button so the machine will start scanning you, ok? Most monsters don’t really feel anything, but some monster’s report it feels like a prolonged CHECK. I promise it won’t be painful for you or Pancake. In 3… 2… 1… Moon time!”

“Moontime? Seriously?”

“I-! It’s-! YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND!”

“I wouldn’t understand?! Who sat through that whole concert…”

Edge couldn’t help cringing, but true to her word, it didn’t hurt. It was deeply unsettling and uncomfortable, like someone was trying to peel back all the layers of magic, coding, and intent that made up his entire being- but it didn’t hurt.

“Agggh!” Undyne sounded annoyed, turning to the screen in front of her with a huff, “Stop distracting me! You’re making me look incredibly rude and unprofessional in front of Edge! It’s-”

“Oh!” She looked surprised, before immediately schooling her expression into something more professional. “That’s! Unexpected!”

“What is?” Edge’s voice was calm, but he bodily shoved Stretch off the examination table and towards the screen, keeping uncomfortably still for the machine, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no- nothing bad! It all looks really good!” Undyne relinquished hold of the machine to Stretch as she scribbled something down on the clipboard, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Stretch grinned, trying to resist running his finger along the display, “Pancake’s officially at 12.5%! They don’t have much in the way of stats yet, predictably, but they’re ‘In Progress’ and also PBST_NORMAL!”

Edge wasn’t sure what that meant, but normal was encouraging, and no special indicators meant nothing was wrong, right? He returned Stretch’s smile with a small, tentative one of his own.

“Exactly! You’re just a lot further a long that I was anticipating!” Undyne tapped her pen against her teeth, “How, um, long has it been?”

“3 weeks and 4 days,” Edge forced himself not to shift uneasily, even as Undyne continued taking furious notes, “I have it marked on my calendar, if you need a precise calendar date.”

“3 weeks? Hm... And 12.5% is half a quarter...” Undyne gnawed on her pen, “So your quarters are 6?”

She looked to Stretch, who was trying to hold the screen and take a picture with his phone at the same time, “Hm? Oh, 6.5 would be a closer estimate, no?”

“Then, with 4 quarters, that’s 46. Roughly 184 days.”

“184,” Stretch confirmed with a nod, before his face fell almost comically, “184 days?! That’s! So soon?! Edge!” He turned to his husband, “That’s like no time at all?!”

Edge made an educated guess, “Until Pancake’s at 100%?”

“Exactly!” Undyne took the screen back, typing something onto it as she glanced down at the paper several times, “I’m just calibrating the machine to these parameters, and if my math and your estimates are correct-“

“They are.” 

“Then the full length of this monster pregnancy should be 184 days, about 6 months. But, magic is unpredictable, so it could be earlier or later depending on a couple of different factors.”

“Like what?” Stretch asked, looking a little nervous as he played with the strings of his hoodie, “Like LV and EXP?”

“No,” Undyne answered quickly, trying to smile reassuringly, but it came off as forced, “Queen Toriel was also concerned, but in the few observed cases, LV has not significantly affected the Souling. There haven’t been any cases or studies on the impact of a raise of EXP or LV on a Souling, but I wouldn’t, um, recommend it...”

“Is that all for today, Doctor?” Edge crossed his arms impatiently, the feeling of a prolonged CHECK starting to grate at his nerves.

“Yes-“ Undyne quickly turned the machine off, clearing her throat, “Overall your stats are excellent- but your DEF is unusually low, so that’ll definitely be something to keep an eye on-“

“Is there anything I should do to address that?” Edge cut in.

“Nothing in particular...” Undyne tapped at her cheek in thought, “There are consumable items that can raise DEF temporarily, but they won’t have a long term impact. Not unless you increase your consumption to a daily basis. You might want to consider equipping armor that has a higher DEF, at least +3, to neutralize it.”

Edge looked troubled, worrying at the ratty, frayed bandana around his throat.

“It’ll probably be fine without it though!” Undyne backpedaled immediately, glancing at Stretch in dismay, “It’s just a precaution- Soulings in their first quarter are still feeling out their magic, so they’ll initially mimic your stats. They end up balancing themselves out in the third quarter usually- well, there’s a slight chance they won’t- but they’re more sensitive to that in the second quarter anyway- but then again-“

Edge unequipped his bandana without another word, tucking it into his inventory. His face was inscrutable as he turned back to Undyne, “I will address that. Anything else?”

“Uh-Pancake’s development is coming along well, so I won’t need to see you until the end of this quarter-“ She said in a rush, unnerved by Stretch’s surprised expression, “Just, um, keep doing what you’re doing and it should be fine. Make sure to get as much sleep as possible.”

She took a deep breath, positively jumping as Edge stood up with a nod, “Thank you, Doctor. We’ll keep in touch.”

Undyne sat ramrod straight, clutching her clipboard to her chest, “Yes, ok, thank you, love you, bye.”

Edge smiled to himself as Undyne let out a mortified sound, half-collapsing onto the floor. He shared a glance with Stretch as he let the door close, careful to never once give either of them his back.

“Ohmygod-!” Undyne wheezed, latching onto Stretch and shaking his shoulders roughly, “Your husband is the scariest, most intense, sexiestmonster I’ve ever met?! It felt like he was going to eat me- but that I should thank him for the privilege?  I’m 100% a lesbian in a loving and committed relationship, but damn!“

“Yeah, uh,” Stretch laughed, gently patting her hands, “He’s got that effect on people, heh. He’ll be flattered-”

“OH MY GOD NO!” Undyne’s grip got tighter as her face went pale, “You can’t say a thing! I’m going to have to face him in a few weeks! How can I when I know he knows I think he actually kind lives up to your hype?! WHAT IF ALLIE HEARS?! No, no one must ever know!”

“Ok, ok, Doc. Thanks for today, by the way- you’re my hero, the Undying Doctor.”

She blushed, pulling her hair over her face bashfully, “You didn’t know naming conventions between doctors and wrestlers were different back then either!”

Stretch winked, before becoming uncharacteristically serious, “But I had a few more questions. Specifically, what symptoms are coming up? And talk to me a little bit more about that DEF thing too... “

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6 - Here!] [Part 7]

[religioused]

When Might Makes Right

by Gary Simpson

John Chapters 18:1-40 (CEV)

When Jesus had finished praying, he and his disciples crossed the Kidron Valley and went into a garden. Jesus had often met there with his disciples, and Judas knew where the place was. Judas had promised to betray Jesus. So he went to the garden with some Roman soldiers and temple police, who had been sent by the chief priests and the Pharisees. They carried torches, lanterns, and weapons. Jesus already knew everything that was going to happen, but he asked, “Who are you looking for?”

They answered, “We are looking for Jesus from Nazareth!” Jesus told them, “I am Jesus!” At once they all backed away and fell to the ground.

7 Jesus again asked, “Who are you looking for?” “We are looking for Jesus from Nazareth,” they answered. This time Jesus replied, “I have already told you that I am Jesus. If I am the one you are looking for, let these others go. Then everything will happen, just as I said, ‘I did not lose anyone you gave me.’”

10 Simon Peter had brought along a sword. He now pulled it out and struck at the servant of the high priest. The servant’s name was Malchus, and Peter cut off his right ear. Jesus told Peter, “Put your sword away. I must drink from the cup that the Father has given me.”

12 The Roman officer and his men, together with the temple police, arrested Jesus and tied him up. They took him first to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. This was the same Caiaphas who had told the Jewish leaders, “It is better if one person dies for the people.” Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. That disciple knew the high priest, and he followed Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest’s house. Peter stayed outside near the gate. But the other disciple came back out and spoke to the girl at the gate. She let Peter go in, but asked him, “Aren’t you one of that man’s followers?”

“No, I am not!” Peter answered.

18 It was cold, and the servants and temple police had made a charcoal fire. They were warming themselves around it, when Peter went over and stood near the fire to warm himself. The high priest questioned Jesus about his followers and his teaching. But Jesus told him, “I have spoken freely in front of everyone. And I have always taught in our meeting places and in the temple, where all of our people come together. I have not said anything in secret. Why are you questioning me? Why don’t you ask the people who heard me? They know what I have said.”

22 As soon as Jesus said this, one of the temple police hit him and said, “That’s no way to talk to the high priest!” Jesus answered, “If I have done something wrong, say so. But if not, why did you hit me?” Jesus was still tied up, and Annas sent him to Caiaphas the high priest. While Simon Peter was standing there warming himself, someone asked him, “Aren’t you one of Jesus' followers?”

Again Peter denied it and said, “No, I am not!”

26 One of the high priest’s servants was there. He was a relative of the servant whose ear Peter had cut off, and he asked, “Didn’t I see you in the garden with that man?” Once more Peter denied it, and right then a rooster crowed. It was early in the morning when Jesus was taken from Caiaphas to the building where the Roman governor stayed. But the crowd waited outside. Any of them who had gone inside would have become unclean and would not be allowed to eat the Passover meal.

29 Pilate came out and asked, “What charges are you bringing against this man?” They answered, “He is a criminal! That’s why we brought him to you.” Pilate told them, “Take him and judge him by your own laws.” The crowd replied, “We are not allowed to put anyone to death.” And so what Jesus said about his death would soon come true.

33 Pilate then went back inside. He called Jesus over and asked, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Are you asking this on your own or did someone tell you about me?”

35 “You know I’m not a Jew!” Pilate said. “Your own people and the chief priests brought you to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom doesn’t belong to this world. If it did, my followers would have fought to keep me from being handed over to the Jewish leaders. No, my kingdom doesn’t belong to this world.”

37 “So you are a king,” Pilate replied.

“You are saying that I am a king,” Jesus told him. “I was born into this world to tell about the truth. And everyone who belongs to the truth knows my voice.”

38 Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?” Pilate went back out and said, “I don’t find this man guilty of anything! And since I usually set a prisoner free for you at Passover, would you like for me to set free the king of the Jews?” They shouted, “No, not him! We want Barabbas.” Now Barabbas was a terrorist.

Reflection:

The symbolism of the location where Jesus was arrested probably was not lost on the first followers of Jesus. Because of Jesus, the Garden of Gethsemane is the Garden of obedience. There is a small stream called the Brook of Kidron, which means “dusky” and “gloomy" because the water was stained by blood from temple sacrifices.(1) In the Kidron Valley, close to the stream stained with sacrificial blood, close Garden of Gethsemane, a garden that can symbolize suffering.(2) The valley is a symbol of rejection and betrayal going back to the time King David was rejected by the nation and betrayed by his son, Absalom.(3) And it was in this deeply symbolic and meaningful location that Jesus was arrested and betrayed by one of His disciples. The passion of Christ moves into its final stages, steps that culminate at the empty tomb that we celebrate on Easter Sunday.

The group who came to arrest Jesus included Officers of the Temple, the Temple police, a Jewish police force that helped keep order and carry out orders from the Sanhedrin, and Roman soldiers.(4) There is a wide range of opinions about how many soldiers came to arrest Jesus. The number of soldiers is unknown, but the term used could place the number in the range of 1,200 cavalry soldiers and 600 infantry soldiers to as few as the range of under 200 soldiers.(5) R.V.G. Tasker, who wrote the Tyndale New Testament Commentary for John, thinks there were 600 soldiers.(6) Contributors to the Zondervan NIV Commentary come down on the side of 600 soldiers.(7) Henry Hailey appears to think there were 500 to 600 soldiers.(8) Even if the lowest number of soldiers given by theologians were present, the number of soldiers involved in Jesus' arrest was significant. Barclay notes that they sent "an expedition" to arrest an unarmed carpenter.(9) He states that the fact that the authorities sent "almost an army" to arrest Jesus is a "compliment to the power of Jesus."(10)

In the passage we read of Jesus asking who the authorities are seeking. They say that they are looking for Jesus. Instead of choosing to slip away, which Jesus might have been able to do,(11) Jesus identified himself as the one they were seeking. Bible scholar and commentator William Barclay says this shows that Jesus chose to die, observing that Jesus “even helped his enemies arrest him. He chose to die.”(12) Jesus act can be considered to be an act of “protective love.”(13) Theologian R.V.G. Tasker also holds that position, stating, “He gives Himself up to His assassins,” so “His disciples should retain their freedom.”(14) The Interpreter’s Commentary observes, “Here Jesus is in full control of what happens. His arrest is not possible without his voluntary submission.”(15)

When Jesus first identified himself as the person the authorities were seeking, all of the soldiers fell backward. This shows the power that Jesus had. Respected commentator Matthew Henry describes the soldiers as falling back like they were “thunder-struck.” He notes that Jesus could have killed the soldiers.(16)

There are some parallels between the problem faced by Jesus' society and our contemporary society. Jesus was an unarmed progressive rabbi. He advocated radically different approaches, but He was no military threat to the Roman government and it is possible that 600 soldiers came looking for Jesus. The religious leaders and Roman officials of Jesus' day did not know that might does not make right. Sadly, some contemporary secular and religious leaders also do not know that might does not make right.

Roughly a year after George Floyd’s death while he was in police custody, one of the police officers was convicted of killing George Floyd. The world watched the nine-minute video clip of George Floyd, as he took his final breaths. The last minutes of his life resulted in worldwide protests, including in the city where I live. There were months of protests across some cities in the United States. Portland moms came out to stand between the police and protestors. The goal was to help prevent violence. If memory serves me right, Portland Dads came out with leaf blowers and blew the mace away from the Portland Moms and the protestors. I am not sure if the Portland Dads got involved due to concerns about the impact of mace and pepper spray on pregnant mothers and developing fetuses.

Probably like no other event in the last 50 years, the death of George Floyd focused world attention on both systemic racism and the evils of racism. Regardless of what we think about George Floyd, his death spotlighted an important topic – racism.

At George Floyd’s funeral, his young daughter told President Joe Biden, “Daddy changed the world.” When Joe Biden phoned after the jury found a police officer guilty in connection with Floyd George’s death, Joe Biden told George Floyd’s daughter, “Daddy did change the world.”(17) The police officer who knelt on George Floyd’s neck might have thought might makes right will solve any problems they had detaining George Floyd. And things mushroomed as George Floyd became a symbol. A few religious leaders and Roman officials might have thought that might makes right would rid the world of the influence of a radical Jewish teacher. Instead, Jesus' crucifixion resulted in an enormous increase in Jesus' influence. From a small, dedicated group of disciples, the followers of Jesus grew into one of the largest religions in the world, a religion that counts its adherents in the billions, not the millions or hundreds of millions, but the billions. And many non-Christians appreciate the teachings of Jesus.

John Chapter 18 is relevant well beyond the Easter season. The chapter might encourage us to think carefully before we employ might makes right in our personal, church, provincial and national problem-solving strategies. Problems oppressed and squelched can become unsolved problems. And chapter 18 can call us to continue denominational work regarding racism.

Notes

(1) Warren Wiersbe. The Bible Exposition Commentary. Vol. 1. (Wheaton, Illinois: Victor Books, 1989), 372.

(2) Wiersbe (1989), 372.

(3) Wiersbe (1989), 373.

(4) William Barclay. The Daily Study Bible. The Gospel of John. Vol. 2 Revised ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1975), 222.

(5) Barclay (1975), 222.

(6) R.V.G. Tasker. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries: the Gospel According to St. John. (Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity Press, 1983), 196.

(7) Kenneth L. Barker and John R. Kohlenberger III. Zondervan NIV Bible Commentary, Vol. 2. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Pub., 1994), 359.

(8) Henry Halley. Pocket Bible Handbook. (Chicago, Illinois: Henry Halley, 1951), 490.

(9) Barclay (1975), 222.

(10) Barclay (1975), 223.

(11) Barclay (975), 223.

(12) Barclay (1975), 223.

(13) Barclay (1975), 224.

(14) Tasker (1983), 195.

(15) Charles M. Laymon, ed. Interpreter’s One-Volume Commentary. (Nashville, Tennesse: Abingdon Press, 1982), 724.

(16) Matthew Henry. The Matthew Henry Study Bible. (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Pub., 1997), 1743.

(17) Joe Biden. Josh HelfgottTikTok. 20 April 2021, 21 April 2021. <https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMexL37yM/>.

[fereality-indy]

Gravity Falls Valor Force Rangers Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ford's Basement Laboratory

Ford is busy working through the sound being pumped down from the party upstairs, he would have happy to be up at the party but he was never comfortable in large social gatherings. The twins know this, so when he asked to be excused from the celebration they allowed it. He was still planning on heading up in a while to put in an appearance. For now though he was just tinkering around with some new equipment he had Fiddleford order from one of his suppliers. It is some sonar equipment that will be perfect for he and his brother's next sea excursion, especially after he's done modifying it.

His head was bopping along with the upbeat tempo when suddenly he heard the music stop and a loud ruckus come over the speakers. He rushed over to the monitors he had set up (mostly to know when one of the family was looking for him). What he saw was one of the most extremely ugly men he has ever seen (and he has seen plenty during his time on the other side), either that or given his clothing he was an enormous Gnome. It appeared that Mabel's friend, Grenada was it? Guava? No it's Grenda, stepped up to dissuade the whatever he was. He panned the camera around and he saw Soos and Melody picking his brother off of the ground outside the entrance to the room the party was being held. He fought the urge to run to check on him and brought the camera feed back onto the matter at hand. As he saw Grenda fall after the creature backhanded her into the wall.

"Dang it, where did I put them?" He said as he began searching through his lab while still trying to keep one eye on what was happening above him. As he saw the twins and their friends be surrounded by some black mannequins, he found the dark gray box he had been searching for. He began activation sequence as he opened the case to release what was inside. "Now hopefully whoever receives these will be able to get here in time to help against these monsters."

Meanwhile Upstairs

"CRYPTIZONES, ATTACK!", Vodak ordered and as one the black mannequins charged towards Wendy, Dipper, Mabel, Pacifica, & Thompson.

Mabel the first to react as she ducked back from the outstretched arms of one of the attacking creatures. She hauled off and decked the creature.

"Ouch!", she called out, "watch out all. These guys are solid."

She was then grabbed from behind. The creature that grabbed her threw her towards the wall, she caught herself before hitting it face first.

Thompson tried delivering a forward thrust kick only to have the creature grab his foot. The creature then flipped him over causing him to land on his stomach. Another creature kicked him in the stomach, hurling him a few feet away from Mabel, where he landed with his back against the wall.

Pacifica delivered a solid palm thrust into the chest of the creature that was reaching for her, only to come to the same conclusion that Mabel had just yelled out. Two of the creatures grabbed her and threw her so she crashed into the rising Mabel.

Dipper attempted a grapple with the creature in front of him, just barely dodging a blow from another in the process. The creature he was grappling with took advantage of this distraction and lifted him off of his feet. It then lifted him into the air and threw him across the room. He landed in a heap near Thompson.

Wendy was fairing better than the rest of the group (growing up the child of Manly Dan and having three brothers that are becoming more like their father every day will do that). She had already taken down one creature and was in the process of throwing another one to knock down a third when she saw Dipper get thrown. This distraction was all the creature needed to twist from her grip. While it righted it self the first creature she had knocked down had worked it's way behind her. The newly free creature landed on it's feet and kicked out striking her in the chest, she went backwards tripping over the first creature in the process. After she landed, her foot was grabbed and she to went flying towards the rest of the group.

As the group attempted to regain their footing five different colored beams of light flew into the room and struck them. As they processed what happened, Dipper is the first one to notice that everything has gone to gray-scale.

"Whoa, wait a minute?", Dipper calls out as he looks around. Having been to the mind-scape before he recognized this effect.

"Dipper, what's going on here?", Pacifica asked as she stood up after untangling from Mabel and saw the lack of color in everything besides her four friends. In fact they each seemed to be a little more colorful than she remembered, almost as if she was seeing an afterglow of the beams of light that had hit them.

"Aw, man. Not this again," Mabel bemoaned as she looked around, "At least the creatures are frozen while we're here."

"Well that's not exactly how this place works Mabs," Dipper said as he and Wendy helped Thompson get to his feet.

"Ok man, why does everything look like my granny's old tv?", Thompson asked as he rubbed his sore backside.

"We're in the mind-scape," Dipper replied as he walked over and examined the creatures and their leader, "Now the real question is how we got here? Bill has been gone ever since we wiped him from Stan's mind. And none of these guys seem like they would be able to drag us into it."

"There was those beams of light that hit us," Wendy added as she joined him in looking them over, "You think they have something to do with it?"

"Very astute observation Wendy," they heard a familiar voice say as someone walked out from the shadows, "Intelligent and brave, no wonder the phoenix chose you."

"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel and Dipper called together.

"Greeting kids," Ford said as he stepped fully into the light. "Sorry for the location, it was the easiest location and way for me to explain what just happened."

"Alright then Grunkle Ford, what is going on?", Pacifica questioned.

"Well I don't know much about your current opponent, but a few days ago some sensors I set out after Stanley and I returned from our first sea voyage registered a class six disturbance in the in regions spatial field." Ford said as he walked over and studied the tall gnome, he was certain now that that was what it was. After seeing the expectant face of his great nephew he continued, "As soon as I was free I went out to investigate to location of the disturbance, but all I found was a shattered stone with mystical residue coming from it. It's currently back in my labs to be studied."

"You think this guy is the cause of the disturbance?" Thompson asked as he was still trying to process what was going on. The only real thing he knew right now is that it is never boring around the Pines twins.

"Unfortunately no. This gentleman here," Ford said as he gestured towards the giant gnome as he turned to face all of the assembled teens, "would only register a two or three on the scale, if he registered at all. Though I wouldn't be surprised to find out he is connected some how. But I digress, the initial question is still unanswered."

He slowly paced in front of the teens,"During my time on the other side I met many an interesting people. One being I met while traveling was an Eltarian named Zordon. As we discussed dealings with our home worlds and compared stories of being tricked by evil beings, he told me of how he was able to create a team of of defenders for his home dimension. The process used was a blend of science and mystical energies that created what he called the morphing grid. But seeing as the evil they were created to fight was locked away for eternity he hoped he never had to use the grid again. I took many notes as we talked and planned to enact my own grid if I ever return home in order to battle Bill, but I never got the chance as the fight against him was already in progress. It was during that first trip after Weirdmageddon that Stanley and I found ourselves somewhere near the Greek Isles defending a dying pegasus from a small flock of harpies. I realized that he and I were not going to be able to keep on handling this instances on our own for to much longer. I remembered the notes and plans I had made and as we worked towards trying to help the pegasus to survive, I began discussing the plan with Stanley."

He paused there for a moment, looking pensively at some items he held in his hand. After what seemed like a good minute, he continued. "As I was pondering how I could power my morphing the pegasus spoke to me. Rather than dying in vain he wished to join me in my quest to do right in the world. As he passed his spirit coalesced into a token that began my search for noble creatures to help in my quest. Eventually the pegasus was joined by a phoenix from near Rome, a kelpie from the Scottish shores, a tanuki from Japan, and a jackalope from the American south west. These five, along with a power source of my own design, became the basis I built my morphing grid around."

"Whoa. I know nothing is sedentary when you guys are around, but what are you going on about?" Thompson asked. "And what were those beams of light?"

"He's explaining that now Thompson," Wendy calmly replied.

"Thank you, Wendy. Yet another reason I can see why the phoenix chose you." Ford said as he walked over to her, in his hand he held a necklace like medallion. When he reached her hand handed over the medallion. "To answer your question Joseph..."

"I keep telling you that you can call me Thompson, everybody does." Thompson interrupted.

"Well Thompson," Ford said as he handed the next medallion to Dipper, "to answer your question, when I saw on my monitors that the party was being attacked I figured it was time to activate the morphing grid. This sent out the spirits to choose their representatives."

"So did you plan on us being these representatives?" Pacifica asked as she stayed close to Mabel.

Ford noticed that the two of were holding hands as he handed the two of them medallions. He answered her question as the girls themselves noticed, "No, I had hoped that the representatives would be chosen and I could tell them what was going and then they would be able to get here in time to help. I actually was hoping for once that you all would be left out of this, but a part of me knew. It wouldn't be a Pines summer with out something happening. Though I have to be honest, I am surprised at who the spirits chose."

He handed Thompson the last medallion before he continued, "These medallions are your physical connection to the morphing grid and with them you will be able to call upon the spirits for assistance."

"So they will come out and attack these creatures for us?", Mabel asked even though she was barely paying attention. She was trying to figure when her and Paz had started holding hands. She wasn't complaining but they hadn't talked about letting anyone else know yet.

"No, that is not what will happen Mabel." Ford responded with a chuckle. He pointed over at her medallion as he continued, "As I said, the medallions are your connection to the spirits. When you place them on you will feel the spirits helping enhance your own natural abilities and perhaps they will even grant you other abilities."

"Perhaps? That doesn't sound too encouraging, Grunkle Ford." Dipper said as he turned his medallion over in his hand examining it. He looked over as Wendy place her medallion around her neck. As she did so he noticed the slight reddish hue that she had been exuding began to practically blind him before it died back down to the level it was at the beginning. "What was that?"

"That was the spirit bonding with Wendy," Ford said as he turned towards the ginger haired young lady, "Wendy, because of your intelligence and courage you have been chosen by the phoenix to be the Red Ranger. And as the Red Ranger you will be the leader of the Valor Force Rangers."

"Whoa. That feels interesting," Wendy as she was processing what she was told. Suddenly she got it and started waiving her hands in protest, "What, wait a minute. I'm no leader. Dip would be a much better leader, he's the one who always comes up with the plans when we go out on mystery hunts. Or even Paz, she's used to telling people what to do."

"Hey!", Pacifica snapped back until Mabel gently squeezed her hand.

Dipper put a calming hand on Wendy's shoulder and said, "Look I may make the plans, but you're the one who makes sure that we all make it through everything when my plans invariably go awry. I'll follow you anywhere."

Wendy smiled at this and as she looked around she saw the others nodding in agreement.

Ford then turned to Dipper as he put on his medallion and a green glow flared then ebbed, "Well put Dipper. It's acts like that that caused the jackalope to choose you as it's representative as the Green Ranger. The jackalope values both speed and wisdom."

Turning towards Mabel as she and Pacifica had finished putting on their medallions, a mixed glow of blue and pink settling back down. With a smile Ford continued. "Mabel, you were chosen by the kelpie to be the Blue Ranger due to your connection to water. Your charm and playfulness caught it's attention also."

He then looked over at Pacifica as he continued, "And Pacifica, you have been chosen by the same pegasus that started me one the journey to create the Rangers to be the Pink Ranger. Nobility and honor are traits it respects."

As he turned to the final member of the chosen quintet all he saw was a solid black mass that then coalesced back into the young man who's name he couldn't place. "And you Joseph..."

"It's Thompson, sir." Thompson said as he looked over from his friends to Ford.

"Oh yes," Ford said as he scratched his head, "You've been off at school for awhile haven't you? How has it been treating..." Ford stopped himself as he realized he was getting off topic, "Actually, we can talk about that later. It seems the tanuki has chosen you to be the Black Ranger, got a little bit of a mischievous side there don't you. The tanuki is known to hold those with a big heart and not a small amount of luck in high esteem."

"Well I have to admit I am feeling empowered," Mabel said as she lifted her arms up to flex. It was only half way through the movement that she realized she was still holding Pacifica's hand. "Ooops."

Dipper cocked an eyebrow at what he just saw before he turned back to his great uncle, "How much longer are we gonna be in the mind-scape?"

"Well according to my calculations you should be coming out of it right about," Ford was looking at the watch on his left wrist, "now."

Back In The Waking World

"Alright Cryptizones, they're weakened." Vodak called out from the back of the swarming creatures, "Destroy them!"

The closest creature swung an overhead chop downwards towards Wendy's head, she reflexively brought her arms up to block and as the chop hit sparks flew from her arms. She then pulled back and decked the attacking creature, sending out more sparks at the impact point. The creature flew across the room.

A second one reached towards Pacifica only for her to float upwards out of it's reach. She the dropped down and hit a literal dropkick on the way down. Once she landed she continued downward and swept the feet out from under another creature. As she rose up she hit a roundhouse on the next closest creature.

Dipper ducked low and sprung forward, landing a clothesline on two of the creatures as he jumped straight through them and landed a good ten feet away. He then ran back into the combat and rapidly began throwing chops at every creature he could reach.

One of the clotheslined creatures flew straight into the table holding the punch bowl, launching the punch into the air heading towards the battle-zone. Mabel threw her hands up to keep the punch from splashing her face, when suddenly the punch stopped mid-air. Feeling a little bit of a pull caused Mabel to move her hands and she noticed the punch moved with her hand movements, she then caused the fluid to wrap around one of the creatures and then flung it across the room.

Thompson waded into the creatures punching the creatures as he went. Then one moment he was standing there and the next he was gone, replaced by another one of the creatures. This confused the creatures he was fighting, finally deciding that he just disappeared so they turned to join one of the other fights. He was trying to figure out what happened when he looked at his hands and saw they were identical to those of the creatures. He walked up behind two of the creatures who were trying to get behind Mabel. He grabbed the heads of the two creatures and slammed them together. Mabel turned towards him, preparing to attack only for him to jerk out of the disguise.

The Rangers regrouped and took stock of the remaining Cryptizones. As they watched another dozen creatures come out from behind their leader, the Rangers heard Ford speaking to them one more time, "Rangers, it's time for you to test out the full capabilities of the medallions. Now do as I say..."

As one the five teens got into a fighting stance, they then thrust out their right arms straight, before finally reaching back and grabbing their medallion. Wendy then called out, "Alright Valor Force, It's time to kick it into action Ranger style!"

In a flash the red aura flared over all but Wendy's head, the aura then becomes a new uniform. The torso is red with a silver star design, well actually it almost looks like the entrance into the Gravity Falls Valley where the ship had carved through the cliff sides. The lower half of the uniform was gray pants capped off with a black belt and holster. Black gloves and boots finished off the look. She calls out, "The majestic phoenix, Red!" and finally a helmet forms. It is the same red as her uniform, with a rounded rectangular visor.

Dipper's green aura surrounded him and coalesced into a green version of the uniform. Before his helmet appeared he called out, "The enigmatic jackalope, Green!"

The blue aura flowed over Mabel before it washed back reveling a blue uniform. She called out, "The fervent kelpie, Blue!" and then her helmet came into being.

Bright pink pulses en-capsulizes Pacifica before it revealed a pink uniform like the others wore. She tipped her head to the side before calling out, "The noble pegasus, Pink!". As she straightened her head, her helmet appeared.

Thompson stood still as the black aura enveloped him before merging with his shadow, leaving him in a black uniform. "The clever tanuki, Black!", He called out before the helmet surrounded his head.

"Whoa, not bad.", Mabel said as she took in everyone's new look.

"Looking Good Dip," Wendy said with a hand on his shoulder.

"Not bad yourself," Dipper replied with a smirk in his helmet.

"They could use some accessories," Pacifica added off-handily.

"Guys, I don't think they're admiring our new look." Thompson said as he called attention to the approaching Cryptizones.

The Cryptizones, while surprised at the change of outfits, continued to advance on the group of friends. The Rangers dropped into their various fighting stances: Wendy stood with her arms loosely at her side and her left foot just slightly in front of the her right, while Dipper seemed to be ready to reach out and grapple, Mabel was in a standard boxing stance, Pacifica held her right hand up near her shoulder as her left foot had slid approximately six inches in front of her right, and Thompson stood with his left foot straight at Cryptizones and his right was held back and at a ninety degree angle, his arms ready to attack.

The creatures rushed forward and as one the Rangers lashed out and began to fight through the mob of Cryptizones. Wendy rushed through knocking several over as she went. Dipper grabbed the first Cryptizone that reached him and threw him into three others. Mabel ducked and dodged as she worked through hitting jabs and uppercuts as she went. Pacifica caught her first opponent with a thrust from her right hand and followed up with a roundhouse to another Cryptizone. After sliding forward two steps Thompson lashed out with a near vertical kick that knocked the closest Cryptizone back into three others. From there the team made short work of the remaining Cryptizones. They then turned towards Vodak.

"Well look at the time," Vodak said as he looked over at the advancing Rangers, "I think I hear someone calling me."

He then turned and ran towards the door, blinking out of site as he passed through it. The fallen Cryptizones disappeared with him.

"Alright Rangers power down," Wendy called as she dropped out of Ranger mode. The others followed suit.

"That was awesome," Mabel yelled as she ran over and hugged Pacifica before she realized what she had done. She started to pull away but Pacifica held on to her left hand.

"Well, how long has this been going on?", Dipper asked as he watched his sister actually blush from the continued contact.

"Uhmm," Mabel started before Pacifica squeezed her hand.

"If you must know Dipper, we both realized we were interested in each other before you two left last year." Pacifica calmly answered, "And we've been talking all through the school year. Do you have a problem with that Pines?"

"Not as long as you treat her right," Dipper said with a smile. He was glad to see his sister happy with some one, and this explained why she turned down Rory DeMarco awhile back.

Hearing his approval lifted a weight off of Mabel's shoulders she had been carrying since last summer. She rushed over to her brother and pulled him into a non awkward sibling hug. "Thank you Dip, I've been so worried you wouldn't understand. I could take disapproval from anyone else but if you had, I don't know what I would have done."

"Of course I understand Mabs, she makes you happy. That's all I need to know," Dipper replied as he returned the hug.

"She does," Mabel said before she leaned closer to her brothers ear and in a whisper added, "You need to go get what makes you happy now."

Dipper sputtered some as she the released the hug and went back to Pacifica giggling all the way.

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

Well this ends the third chapter of Valor Force Rangers. We start off with Ford down in his basement while the party was going on upstairs. He then notices the fighting going on and the appearance of the villains cause him to begin searching for something. Meanwhile the gang are attempting to fight off Vodak and the Cryptizones, but aren't overly successful. Suddenly they are hit with five colored beams of light and they are in the mind-scape with Ford. He explains the lights and let's them know they are now Power Rangers if they wish. After they return to the waking world they discover their new abilities as they fight off the villains. They then bring out their new uniforms and proceed to take out the Cryptizones. Vodak runs with his tail between his legs.

Also remember to check out my other Gravity Falls works here:

Gravity Heroes - A few months after the Mystery Twins head home from Gravity Falls Mabel gets a call from Soos telling her that Dipper was found turned to stone out in the woods. The problem is Dipper is standing right next to her. This leads them off to a new adventure.

Gravity Heroes: Sidetracks - A series on one shots & drabbels that are stories that are in the Gravity Heroes-verse but aren't necessarily required to read the main story-line. It's essentially my take on the classic Marvel Comics Presents.

Welcome To The Gravity Falls Region - My take on the Pokemon AU. Follow the adventures of the potential Pokemon Master Dipper Pines and his sister Mabel, Pokemon Coordinator extraordinaire, while they travel through the Gravity Falls Region.

The Curse - Thanks to a misunderstanding Wendy is targeted by a fairy curse. This is a short story following what happens afterwords.

I also would feel honored if any of my works inspire any art. If you do I would love to see them. Thanks again to all who have read this far. I have received art now from Deviou5, Siryleleen, & Polydactyly Zodiac. These will be posted soon in my Deviant Art account as fan art and credited to them. Thanks again you three. I'm happy to see different interpretations of the characters from the Gravity Heroes AU. Let me know by PM if you do and I'll send out a list of the full descriptions to you. The art is now up at fereality. deviantart just remove the spaces. A new pic of Yami is now up.

Again I'd like to give a shout out to dusk4224, EZB, SuperGroverAway, ddp456, & A Pleasant Dream. It was their stories that made me want to get back into writing and to want to start with Gravity Falls. Please check out their stories if you haven't already.

Please review. I'm always open to constructive and helpful criticism, though if you're gonna troll please move on.

[imagining-supernatural]

Avenging Angel: Part 23

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.

Word Count: 1704

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry the last few parts have been so slow! I promise that the next part will make up for it ;) 

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8 -- Part 9 -- Part 10 -- Part 11 -- Part 12 -- Part 13 -- Part 14 -- Part 15 -- Part 16 -- Part 17 -- Part 18 -- Part 19 -- Part 20 -- Part 21 -- Part 22

“Hi, I’m here to see Braxton Covington. I’m Y/N.”

The young secretary narrowed her eyes at you for a moment before slowly looking through her appointment scheduler. “Mr. Covington is in a meeting right now.”

That was weird. He told you he’d make time for lunch with you. “Then I’ll just go wait in his office. Twelfth floor, right?”

“Mr. Covington doesn’t let people stay in his office when he’s not there.”

Okay. This chick was really getting on your nerves. “I think Mr. Covington will make an exception for his girlfriend.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief just as Braxton’s dad came striding up. “Y/N! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Immediately, the secretary’s whole demeanor changed to something much more cordial. Apparently when the CEO greeted you by your first name, your words finally carried some weight. Mr. Covington still grated on your nerves, and you couldn’t figure out why. You’d only been around him a handful of times, though, so you were trying to reserve judgement.

“Braxton invited me for lunch, but I guess he’s in a meeting.”

Mr. Covington nodded understandingly. “Yes. That meeting is running much longer than we anticipated.” He paused briefly, but the air around him stopped you from trying to come up with an excuse to leave. Mr. Covington wasn’t finished yet. “Perhaps you and I could sit down for lunch. I’d love to have a chat with my son’s girlfriend and get to know her better.”

That was not something you were prepared for. But how could you turn him down?

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice slightly higher than normal. “That’s, uh, I would love that too.”

With a definitive nod, Mr. Covington turned to the secretary. “Reschedule my appointments for the next hour and call Louie’s. Tell them to have a table ready for us.”

Well. This day had just taken an unexpected turn. While Mr. Covington ushered you out of the building, he smiled over at you. “And call me George.”

*****

*****

“I just made it very clear to him that if he keeps refusing to talk to us, then you might look places where even your mom can’t protect you. I didn’t tell him about the Covingtons trying to kill you.”

“You just implied it.”

Sam nodded, confirming your words. Dean leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his chin as he digested everything you and Sam told him about the visit to your father.

“He probably thought you were threatening my life.” With a roll of your eyes, you flopped backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I wish he would just talk to me. I’m sick of these games and I’m sick of him thinking that I don’t have a right to know.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam reassured you. At his voice, you turned your head and locked your eyes on his familiar form sitting across the table from Dean. He gave you a small smile that sent electrical pulses dancing along your nerves.

“I wish we could have gotten something out of him today that was helpful, though.”

“There might be something…” Dean trailed off, calculating something in his head. “You think he’s been in contact with your mom the whole time? Maybe we can figure out how he communicates with her and track her that way.”

Sam’s fingers tapped on his beer bottle, mesmerizing you. Each tap on the glass tapped its way into your memories. His hands pulling you closer as he fell asleep at night. His hand cupping your cheek after you just woke up in the tent and started freaking out because you couldn’t see. The way his fingers tangled in your hair as his kisses chased away the harshness of the world.

It wasn’t until he was halfway through his sentence that you seemed to reconnect with reality. “—but that business she used was tight. It’ll be hard.”

“But you can do it, right?” Dean asked.

Focus! Your whole life was being turned upside down. This was not the time to get distracted by thoughts of Sam Winchester’s lips at your ear, whispering sinful things to you as his fingers dug into your body and—

“—Y/N? Think that’ll work?”

“What?” You sat up and prayed that your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt they were.

“The plan? Track your mom through your dad then have you confront her? I’m sure we’ll come up with a more solid plan before we actually find her.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah that’s great. I can help you with the, uh, the computer stuff.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “The ‘computer stuff’? Is that what they taught you at MIT?”

“Shut up, Dean. I’m tired, and I’m hungry.” You directed that last complaint at Sam, hoping he would pick up on your hint.”

Luckily, Sam Winchester was a very observant man. “Right. I’ll go pick up some burgers or something.”

After you three decided what you wanted for dinner, you watched Sam leave. It was that loose swing of his arms and confident set of his shoulders that captivated you. As soon as the door was shut and he was out of sight, you could think again.

“Dean, I need you to leave.”

“Come again?” You could read him well enough to know that he was getting angry. You’d made so much progress in the last few days about getting him to like you again that you couldn’t afford to mess this up, so you had to explain quickly.

“I mean, not now. I know I can’t get rid of you until after you eat, and Sam’s getting you food anyway. But after that, you need to find a reason to leave and not come back until tomorrow.” After a second, you added one more word. “Afternoon. Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Why would you need me to—ooohhh.” It was like a switch had flipped and his anger turned to complete understanding. “You’re finally gonna let him get a home run?”

“I’m not gonna let—it’s not weird to want to wait a few weeks before having sex.” Especially after you spent a whole year manipulating your own emotions just so you could make it through that last relationship with your sanity intact.

“Uh, yeah it is.”

“Uh, no it’s not,” you copied his intonation. “Not everyone is as emotionally stunted as you are, Dean.”

He scoffed, clearly offended. “I am not emotionally stunted!”

Well, that wasn’t a point you wanted to argue. “Whatever. So are you gonna be a good wingman and get lost ‘til tomorrow afternoon so your brother can get laid, or not?”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he patted you on the shoulder as he walked over to his duffle bag.

While you waited for Sam to get back, you and Dean talked about getting to your mother, what you might say to her when you finally found her, and what to do with the new groups of creatures that Cas and Crowley kept finding out about. Without Sam in the room, you could actually focus.

Then Sam came back with a few bags of fast food and all bets were off. He was so adorably oblivious to everything during dinner. The way you would zone out, staring at his lips. Or Dean’s smirk when you finally tore yourself from your fantasies and managed to look away from Sam.

Finally, everyone was finished eating and you were all just sitting around the table that was littered with food wrappers. Your legs were propped up in Sam’s lap and you were pointedly looking at the older brother while he pretended not to notice.

“So, what do you guys wanna do tonight? I think I’m all “werewolfed” out.” Dean leaned back in his chair and surveyed you and Sam with a spark in his eyes. Your glare had no effect. “I was thinking we could watch a movie?”

“I’m not really in the mood for a movie,” you hinted, sliding your eyes towards the door.

He just smirked knowingly again and your annoyance grew.

“Bar, then?”

“Ya’know, after the spectacle I made of myself last time I was at a bar, I think I’ll pass.”

Dean stood up, finally, and grabbed his jacket. “Suit yourself. Sammy?”

He glanced from you to Dean for a moment before shaking his head. His fingers flexed from where they were curled around your leg on his lap. “Nah. I’ll stay in with Y/N.”

“Y’all are boring,” Dean mumbled just before closing the door behind him.

Sam was twisted around, staring at the door with a wrinkled forehead. You tapped his leg with your foot to get his attention. “You know, I knew right away that you were a dangerous man. As soon as I woke up next to you on that mountain, I knew that I would have to be careful around you.”

“Oh really?” Sam obviously didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Yeah. Because within the first five minutes, you made me feel safe.” Slowly, you pulled your legs off his and stood up. While you spoke, you closed the last few feet and lowered yourself until you were straddling his lap with your fingers hooked behind his neck. “And anyone who could make me feel safe right after my boyfriend left me on a mountain in the middle of winter to die was someone that I clearly couldn’t trust.”

“Clearly,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you closer. It seemed like he could see where this conversation was heading, and he had no objections.

You leaned forward and kissed his neck, a spark of electricity shooting through you when he leaned his head back, giving you more access.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaving a spattering of kisses from his shoulder up to his ear. “For coming with me to see my dad today.”

One of Sam’s hands trailed up your back and tangled in your hair. His breath was hot on your neck. “You didn’t want to go alone. Besides, I figured now was as good a time as ever to meet one of your parents.”

Laughing, you framed his face with your hands and pulled his lips to yours.

Part 24 of Avenging Angel

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via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

The most important effects stemming from Justice Anthony Kennedy’s retirement will be on how the Supreme Court rules on landmark cases on issues ranging from abortion to gerrymandering. But there are fewer than 20 weeks between now and the midterm elections, and Kennedy’s announcement also has the potential to affect the composition of the next Congress.

Betting markets see the news as a wash as far as the midterms go.1 But betting markets are sometimes pretty dumb, so let’s work our way through a pair of decent arguments I’ve seen for why Kennedy’s retirement is more likely to help Republicans than Democrats politically:2

Argument No. 1: Kennedy’s retirement will help Republicans close the “enthusiasm gap”

One way that Kennedy’s retirement could help Republicans is by narrowing the enthusiasm gap between Democrats and Republicans. Here’s how National Review’s David French puts it:

Heading into the midterms, Republicans were desperately worried about an “intensity gap.” Democratic voters seem prepared to turn out in huge numbers. Republicans — while holding firm in their support for President Trump — lacked the same excitement. Special elections were swinging strongly Democratic, and even though the generic preference numbers were trending closer, most observers thought Republicans would struggle to get their voters to the polls. I’d say those concerns are eased a bit today.

After all, for an immense number of base GOP voters, judges aren’t just an issue. They’re the issue that drives them to the polls. Republicans are all over the place on immigration policy, trade policy, and foreign policy. Divisions in the party are deep and real. Those divisions disappear when judges are on the line. We can debate all we want about Russian influence on the 2016 election (or about the effect of the Comey letter), but one thing is certain — if Evangelicals and other conservatives weren’t afraid of the impact of a progressive Supreme Court on their fundamental liberties, Donald Trump doesn’t win. A new Supreme Court pick will galvanize the entire base for months.

This is a well-argued case. French is certainly right that an enthusiasm or intensity gap is a massive risk for Republicans. If the midterm elections look more like the special elections we’ve had so far this cycle, in which Democrats turnout significantly outpaced Republican turnout, the GOP is very likely to lose the House and the Democratic wave could reach epic proportions. But without that enthusiasm gap, control of the House looks like more of a toss-up, at least based on the current generic ballot average.

Democratic candidates will undoubtedly also try to use the Supreme Court as a wedge issue. If and when Trump’s nominee is confirmed, they’ll pivot to telling their voters about how a Republican-chosen replacement for Ruth Bader Ginsburg (who is 85 years old) or Stephen Breyer (79) would be an even bigger problem and how it’s therefore crucial that Democrats take control of the Senate.

The catch, though, is that the Democratic base is already very motivated: Motivated by the Russia investigation, by Republican efforts to repeal Obamacare, by Trump’s overall unpopularity, and so forth. They might not need the additional motivation, whereas Republican voters perhaps do.

Also, there’s some evidence Republican voters are more motivated in general by the Supreme Court than Democratic ones. In the 2016 national exit poll, 21 percent of voters said that Supreme Court appointments were the most important issue in their vote, and they split 56-41 for Trump.

But let me pick a few nits with French’s claim. One questionable assertion is his idea that “a new Supreme Court pick will galvanize the entire [Republican] base for months.” That may understate how many other stories the Supreme Court pick will compete with for attention. The news cycle moves very quickly these days, and Trump’s nomination of Neil Gorsuch for the Supreme Court last year was a major news story for only a couple of weeks. The death of Antonin Scalia and the Republican refusal to consider Barack Obama’s nomination of Merrick Garland also did not gain much traction as a news story in the 2016 campaign given how much else was going on.

Perhaps, as the exit poll data implies, the Supreme Court was an overlooked issue in 2016 that was more important to evangelical voters and other parts of the Republican base than the media assumed. But it was not necessarily a top-of-mind issue to these voters. The exit poll question specifically prompted voters to think about the Supreme Court. But when Gallup and other pollsters ask open-ended questions about what issues are most important, the Supreme Court doesn’t really register. Nor does abortion, for that matter, with issues such as immigration and the economy rating as being much more important.

Also, assuming Trump has his choice confirmed by the Senate before the midterms, the Supreme Court will arguably be more of a backward-looking issue in 2018 than it was in 2016. I say “arguably” because Kennedy probably won’t be the last justice to retire under Trump; liberals Ginsburg and Breyer are retirement risks, as is conservative Clarence Thomas. Still, in 2016, voters were deciding on an open Supreme Court seat and not just the prospect of further vacancies.

Finally, even if base motivation is crucial in midterm elections, it’s worth considering the effect on swing voters. In 2016, voters preferred Hillary Clinton’s prospective Supreme Court appointments to Trump’s. Despite that, Gorsuch was a reasonably popular nominee last year. But he was replacing another conservative justice whereas a replacement for Kennedy could potentially produce a big ideological shift in the court. For instance, If Democrats can frame Trump’s nominee as threatening Roe v. Wade, they could find public opinion on their side, as voters oppose overturning Roe v. Wade by more than a 2-to-1 margin.3 The nomination is also coming against the background of a midterm election, and voters tend to view the ruling party skeptically at the midterms, seeking to elect members of the opposition party to check its power.

Argument No. 2: Kennedy’s retirement will put red-state Democratic senators to a tough vote

Five Democratic Senators — Indiana’s Joe Donnelly, Missouri’s Claire McCaskill, Montana’s Jon Tester, North Dakota’s Heidi Heitkamp and West Virginia’s Joe Manchin — are up for reelection this November in states that Trump won by double digits in 2016. There’s also Alabama Democrat Doug Jones, who isn’t up until 2020 but who already has to carefully calibrate his positions in one of the nation’s reddest states. As The Washington Examiner’s Phil Klein argued, these Democrats are in a tough position:

The difficulty faced by red state Democrats is that even in a more conservative states, a substantial portion of their base is going to be fiercely anti-Trump, and opposed to any of his judicial nominees. At the same time, particularly in the very red states (Missouri, North Dakota, Indiana, and West Virginia) where Trump won big, it’s going to be really difficult to vote “no” on a qualified Supreme Court nominee.

While it won’t be an easy vote for any of these Democrats, especially so close to the midterms, there are also some mitigating factors for them. One is that other than Jones, all of the senators already voted on Gorsuch, with Heidkamp, Manchin and Donnelly voting aye and McCaskill and Tester voting nay. If in doubt, they could just vote the same way on Trump’s next nominee.

Another is that it could plausibly be to these Democrats’ advantage to demonstrate their centrist and independent streak by voting for Trump’s pick. Heitkamp, for instance, has already run ads bragging about how often she votes against Democrats and with Trump’s position. Sure, the Democratic base would be upset with her — but there aren’t a lot of Democratic base voters in states such as North Dakota, and almost all these states have already held their primaries anyway.

Finally, there’s one Republican potentially put in a tough position by Kennedy’s retirement. That’s Nevada’s Dean Heller, who voted for Gorsuch, but who faces a tough re-election in a state that isn’t known for its cultural conservatism. And unlike the Democrats,4 Heller’s vote could fairly easily prove to be decisive. Republicans don’t have much margin of error with only a narrow 51-49 advantage in the Senate, and they have possible issues with senators ranging from Susan Collins (who might object to a nominee she saw as a threat to overturn Roe) to John McCain (who could miss the vote because of illness).

The Gorsuch nomination went well for Trump, but this one could be tricker

So the arguments for why Kennedy’s retirement could be a political boon for Republican are persuasive — but only up to a point. And they seem to be using Gorsuch’s nomination as a template for how things will go this time around when that won’t necessarily be the case.

Gorsuch’s nomination was one of the most successful episodes of Trump’s presidency; he was a fairly popular selection with swing voters, but also one who pleased conservative activists. Republicans were also able to “nuke” the Supreme Court filibuster with relatively little backlash, perhaps in part because Democrats had already ended it for most other types of nominations.

Supreme Court nominations are not always cakewalks, however, as cases such as Harriet Miers and Robert Bork (and Clarence Thomas) attest. There are several potential risks to Trump and Republicans:

Trump could nominate a relatively moderate justice, in an effort to keep Collins and Alaska’s Lisa Murkowski on board and to put maximum pressure on red-state Democrats, but then face a backlash from conservatives.

Trump could nominate someone very conservative, but at the price of actually putting votes such as Collins’s and Murkowski’s at risk and of turning off swing voters.

Trump could nominate someone who had vetting issues, or someone who triggered a debate about qualifications, or someone who was seen as too much of a political crony. Historically, these sorts of justices have had trouble getting confirmed.

On balance, Kennedy’s retirement probably offers more political upside than downside for Republicans, but it’s a long way from a slam dunk. And this is not a White House where things always — or usually — go so smoothly as they did with the Gorsuch pick.