#will is so gentle with both pan and lyra

[casualavocados]

She’s not safe, you’re drugging her. Why are you keeping her here? Why won’t you let her leave?

HIS DARK MATERIALS 3.02 | The Break

[freesia-writes]

Ch 36: Clarification

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2k

Hunter watched as the ship disappeared into the clouds, feeling its jump to hyperspace as he stared after it in utter disbelief. He couldn’t get to Tech’s fast enough, mind racing the entire way. 

“That is a most fascinating series of events,” Tech observed after Hunter had filled him in on the tumult of the last few days. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Hunter grumbled, taking a long drink from his cup of caf. “So, she wasn’t lying?”

“I did not detect a single trace of deception. Considering your apparent affinity for attracting supernatural activity on this island, it will likely be a fruitless search for concrete scientific answers.”

“I’m not looking for this supernatural stuff.”

“I know.” Tech skimmed through the data the scanner had recorded, reviewing and confirming what he’d surmised. “Her mind seems entirely convinced of the story she told. There are some odd physiological markers in the parts of her brain responsible for memory. It would appear that she has somehow been reverted to a past state, with absolutely no recollection of any of the events you shared together. It is a neurobiological phenomenon called autobiographical amnesia.”

“You’re sure?”

“There is no other possibility. If there were, I would likely have some inkling and would be able to follow the trail to a solid conclusion. But, as it stands, the semi-sentient island seems to have freed you entirely from any potential repercussions or further concerns.”

“I don’t believe it…”

“Hunter,” Tech said, slightly exasperated now. “It is not the first time we have seen inexplicably mystical occurrences, both here and in the galaxy at large. I would advise that you consider it a wonderfully fortuitous part of your narrative and proceed as usual.” 

“Better than any of the alternatives,” he said darkly, having considered every possible way to neutralize the threat that she represented, some of which were decidedly more gruesome than he felt comfortable with.

“Indeed. It is wildly convenient. This island seems to be quite useful in your story.”

“Guess so.”

“The only additional matter at hand is any remaining interaction between you and Lyra.”

Hunter took a deep breath, his rich brown eyes fixed in a distant gaze out the window.

* * * 

The door swung open shortly after the gentle knock, and Lyra beamed when she saw Hunter, then quickly adjusted it into a smaller, more acceptable smile. She ushered him in, having dressed in her usual attire – a loose, beige dress made of linen and a knitted cardigan over it, although this time the sweater was a blush pink color that gave her a more feminine look. A litany of drool-worthy smells filled his nose as they arrived in the kitchen, the counters strewn with nearly every cooking tool she owned, and she rested her backside against the counter, regarding him meekly. 

“Apparently I like to cook when I’m stressed,” she confessed with a self-effacing chuckle. “You hungry?”

“I wasn’t before I walked in,” he rumbled, gaze moving from the baked goods cooling on a rack near the window to the large pan on the stove with a savory scramble steaming in it. She smiled, moving at once to put a kettle on and fetch some plates. 

“So uh… What the heck happened?” She couldn’t wait a moment longer to hear the rest of the story. 

“Tech is absolutely positive that she somehow reverted to her life a few years ago. She’s completely convinced that she was here on vacation, never met us before, has no idea who we are, and was content to go back to her freelance journalist job based out of Coruscant. Apparently she still has an apartment there, and GNN allows her to come and go instead of requiring a steady presence, so it will be unbelievably effortless for her to just slip back into life there.”

“I don’t believe it,” she said softly, stirring a splash of cream into his caf the way she remembered he liked it. 

“Me neither, to be honest. But Tech was sure.”

“How would it–” She was interrupted by the chime of Hunter’s commlink, and he pulled it from a pocket and clicked a button. 

“Yeah?”

“I have some additional information for you and Lyra,” Tech’s distorted voice reported. 

“Great,” Hunter said, not sure how many more complications he could take. 

“I was further piecing together all of the events that have transpired from the very start and corroborating them with any and all evidence I could locate. A recent news development may prove to be reassuring to both of you.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” he said. Lyra stepped closer to listen, brushing her arm against his before pulling away self-consciously. 

“Am I correct in assuming that Vuxpasian Trawley is Lyra’s former boss, the one that has been seeking to have her either incarcerated or disposed of?”

“Yes,” she answered, and Hunter felt the tension grip her entire body. 

“Excellent. He is dead.”

“Very straightforward, Tech. Thank you,” Hunter said, voice laced with affection for his brother’s unique style of communicating as Lyra gasped softly beside him, both hands racing to her mouth.

“I also have some additional information,” Crosshair drawled. Apparently everyone was on the same comm frequency today.

“I am not finished–” Tech protested.

“Too bad. This is important,” Crosshair insisted, not waiting for a reply. “Hunter… A Bantha sent a message. He wants to know why you stole his hairstyle.”

The guffaw that burst out of Lyra’s mouth made her immediately clap a hand over it, her cheeks flushed with immediate embarrassment as she looked apologetically at Hunter, whose lips were pressed together.

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

Tech continued, sparing not a single moment for Crosshair’s ridiculousness. “Anyway, while not directly stated in the official documents, it is more than obvious that it was none other than Emperor Palpatine who saw him dead. Trawley was reported to have been conducting his own research in the field of cloning, which as we know, is of utmost importance to Palpatine. By reading between the lines, I was able to deduce that he tried to blackmail the Empire by threatening to sabotage their own work in the field if they did not give him a position of esteem. Needless to say, it did not end well for him. So he, and anyone else who would have cared about the evidence possessed by Lyra and her daughter, have been… neutralized, to put it more gently for the apparently sensitive ears.”

Lyra stared at the comm, a myriad of expressions dancing across her face as she shook her head slowly, reeling from just how much had changed in a single twenty-four hour period. A deep, shaky breath was her best attempt at calm, and she pulled out a wooden chair to settle herself at the table. 

“The two of you may benefit from some time to process all of this. It is downright astonishing how every single factor that would stand in the way of a peaceful, happy future without fear of outside threats seems to have been taken care of. If I believed in fate, I would posit that it is in your favor. Anyway, see you at family dinner on Benduday.”

“And maybe try to put that mess into a ponytail,” Crosshair added, followed by Wrecker’s laugh and a deep inhale. Hunter clicked the comm off before he could finish whatever he was about to say.

He sank into the seat beside Lyra, rubbing his forehead with one hand before resting them both on the table. They both faced the wall, staring at the endless array of knick knacks and nature collections that summed up her delight with the simple things in life, and lost themselves in thought. 

“So… We’re just free to live happily ever after?” she finally asked, her skepticism laced with a depth of yearning that she didn’t want to admit. 

His distant stare dropped to the table, following the gnarled pattern of the wood grain that flowed and spiraled beneath his hands. The self-imposed yoke of doubt that rested heavily across his shoulders reminded him of the improbability, and yet that cynical voice of disbelief now had a competitor: a tiny, wistful flicker of hope.

“Want to eat?” Lyra broke the silence with her timid question. The delicious scents of her kitchen frolicked back into his consciousness, and he nodded, bringing himself back to the present. She fetched a couple of mismatched plates, one dark blue and handmade, the other more elaborate with a delicately woven vine along the edges, and piled each one high with a scramble, croissant, chopped potatoes, and fruit. Hunter couldn’t help but chuckle as she set the single-plate feast in front of him, and he quickly clarified as her face revealed insecurity.

“No, this is great,” he said quickly. “It’s just enough to make Wrecker feel full… for at least an hour.” 

She laughed self-consciously, fingers toying with the messy braid resting over her shoulder, and shrugged. “I’ll tell you what I told Breslin as a child – eat what you want and leave the rest.” Her expression deepened as the memories surfaced, and Hunter found himself with a strong desire to be privy to her internal thoughts. 

“You were pretty young yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, stabbing a potato with her fork. “Young and dumb,” she smiled. “But I’ve always been an old lady at heart, no matter my actual age.” Her little snicker warmed his heart, and then she became suddenly serious, eyes distant and full of thought. 

Hunter waited.

“If we really are safe… I wonder if Breslin could come live here… Although she had a pretty good setup on Keytoll, so I don’t know if she’d even want to. But gods, I’ve missed her.”

“How old is she?” 

“Twenty-four.”

“So you had her when you were–”

“Eighteen. It wasn’t ideal by any means, and there’s never been a father in the picture. She was the consequence… turned into a gift… of some foolish choices.” She reflected for a moment, slowly swallowing another bite of potato, then studied him intently, a question on her lips that she seemed to be holding back. 

“What?” he prompted, catching her gaze. 

“You’re… twenty-eight?” The barely-restrained cringe on her face spoke volumes, and he felt his heart sink a little. 

“Yeah… But…” The truth of his engineering hung over him like a shameful dark cloud. “We were created with an accelerated aging process. So we age at twice the rate of… real people.” The pain in his voice at the last two words was unmistakable, and Lyra’s face deepened with compassion. 

“You are a real person,” she whispered, eyes glistening with emotion. 

“I guess so.”

“So…” she mulled it over. “In ten years, I’ll be fifty-two, and you’ll be…”

“Forty-eight,” he muttered. 

“And in fifteen years, you’ll be beating me by a year… fifty-eight when I’m fifty-seven…And so on and so forth,” she continued, doing the math in her head. 

“Yup.”

Silence rested between them for a moment.

“What’s it like?” Her question surprised him, and he tilted his head, resting his fork and knife on the edges of his plate as his hands loosely clasped them. 

“What?”

“Growing so quickly?” 

“I don’t know… Never known anything else. Honestly, I don’t think any of us really thought we would make it past the war. It was pointless to think that way. We’re… disposable.”

“Hunter,” she said softly, hand twitching toward his before pulling back. 

“No,” he said suddenly, setting down his eating utensils and slowly rising to his feet. A tornado of thoughts was tearing through his mind, and he was beginning to spiral along with it, utterly exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

“This?” Her voice quavered. 

He looked at her, wrought with conflict, insecurity, regret, frustration, then with a small shake of his head, turned for the front door, pausing as he twisted the handle, then continued out with slumped shoulders.

.

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[viciousgold]

@secondbetrayer​

“I don’t understand,” Lyra admitted with a small shake of her head, because she didn’t. She’d found her mother with some man Lyra had never seen before and she didn’t know why this had happened. She’d spent a lot of time with them but very often found she didn’t understand grown-ups. She didn’t know if she ever would, even when she became one herself.

But this was her mother; Lyra loved her and knew there must be, had to be, some kind of explanation, a good one. So she set a deep gaze on her mother, willing to listen.“Why, Mama?” Her tone of voice and her brown eyes both reflected a plea, a hope for the upcoming answer. Pan, mouse-formed, poked his little head out of Lyra’s shirt. Didn’t her mother love Father?

Marisa sighed, bringing her hand to gently grasp Lyra’s face. As she was about to speak, Asriel stood and approached them. He glanced down at his daughter for a moment, before looking at Marisa.

“You should tell her, Marisa.” he spoke softly. 

Marisa resisted the urge she felt to stand upright and smack him. 

“Go home, Asriel.” she warned firmly. She looked up at him with a cold glare. Asriel turned his attention to the girl again, his expression somber. But Marisa let him know time and time again that this was the way things had to be, for all of their safety. Edward Coulter was a prideful man, and if Lyra knew the truth, and she said something, all three of them would be in danger. So Asriel could never be Lyra’s father. Stelmaria looked at the young Pantalaimon with longing, but soon began walking out of the room, beckoning her human to follow. Having no other choice once the snow leopard got as far as she did, he turned and followed her out. Once they were alone, Marisa began speaking. 

“Adult relationships are complicated, Lyra.” she began, her voice very gentle. Her daemon leapt to her shoulder to better gaze at Pan. “Sometimes, if we’re unhappy, we seek out people who can help us be happy. That’s all it is. Your father and I, we barely see each other these days. Between his work and mine, our busy, conflicting schedules, almost all of our free time is spent with you, my darling.” Marisa ran her fingers through a strand of Lyra’s hair. “But Asriel, he’s a work colleague of mine. So because we work together, we see each other all the time, so... what I’m currently not getting from your father, it’s easy and, unfortunately necessary to get it from Asriel.” she tried to explain. “It means nothing.” she lied, choosing to say this rather than explain how she and Asriel were in love. Because she didn’t want Lyra for a second thinking about what this might mean. “It’s just that adults have needs. And if I could get those fulfilled with your father, I would. But until that is an option, I need Asriel. And I need you to keep this a secret, Lyra. It’s very important that you don’t tell anyone about this.”

[fern-stone]

Rules: pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people. 

I got tagged by @nooowestayandgetcaught tyyyy! This looks v fun... I will also be cheating and doing more lines than 3 but less than 7 haha

How The Days Fly By  [Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua, Lyra Belacqua & Pantalaimon, Lord Asriel & Stelmaria | His Dark Materials | G rated | 4.2k words]

Lyra had rolled away from her scribbling, watching curiously as Pan sniffed out the toys laid out around her. She was waiting for him to choose. Asriel smiled slightly before returning to his book.

He felt a gentle tug on the end of his trousers and looked over to the little hand that had done it.

Lyra looked up at him, eyes brimming with curiosity and pride. In her mouth was the toy that he'd brought back for her. Beside her Pan was chewing cautiously on another toy, and had clearly done the same to the one now in her mouth.

What A Beautiful Wife I Have [Fu Shen / Yan Xiaohan |               黄金台 - 苍梧宾白 / Golden Stage | E rated | 3.3k words]

Yan Xiaohan's leg hooked around Fu Shen, his hands rising to his shoulders. Fu Shen found the world spinning around him as he was flipped onto his face, breath knocked out of him when his back hit the bed. This fucker!

"Yan Meng'gui, you let me up," Fu Shen hissed, face flushed as Yan Xiaohan pressed down on him. Did his husband have to go against the flow everytime? Was he not content with just sitting there and taking it? "Get off right now."

A Worthy Opponent [Mobei Jun / Shang Qinghua | Scum Villain Self Saving System | M Rated | 8.2k words]

And he was... Crying?

Shang Qinghua felt fear strike into his heart at such a pitiful sight. He never thought he'd see Mobei Jun shed a single tear, not when even the worst pain didn't seem to phase him. Yet here he was, tears streaming down his pale face and eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he were dead.

Surrounded by dildos.

Shang Qinghua took one look at the horrifying scene before him, and took pity on his strange demonic husband.

Dripping Sin [Song Qiutong / Ye Wangxi | 二哈和他的白猫师尊 - 肉包不吃肉 / 2ha | M Rated | 643 words]

For Ye Wangxi has eyes for only Song Qiutong, and she doesn’t plan to ever look elsewhere. It doesn’t matter if Song Qiutong is getting married to someone else tomorrow. Song Qiutong may not be hers, but she is irrevocable Song Qiutong’s.

It’s enough.

Even if she knows it's slowly killing her. Song Qiutong could kill her, and Ye Wangxi would gladly allow her. She would give her life in exchange for just a moment more in her arms.

I Learned From You [Eleven / Max Mayfield | Stranger Things | T Rated | 930 words]

Did Max not know how good she looked? How El's heart fluttered against her chest everytime she gave one of those bright smiles, so full of life and joy. It was as if the whole world came to a standstill when she smiled. "Very pretty."

A light blush crossed Max's cheeks and El realised she'd rolled over so that their faces were only inches away from each other. El felt her own face turning red as she stared into the depths of those light blue eyes.

She didn't remember who crossed the distance between them, but their lips met and it felt as if she could fly.

It Was You [An Zhe/Lu Feng |  小蘑菇 - 一十四洲 / Little Mushroom | T Rated | 1.2k words]

“Or was it because of this?” Lu Feng carefully took An Zhe’s hand in his own, entangling their fingers together so that the red strings wrapped around them both touched. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that,” An Zhe blinked, trying to figure out how to put his feelings into words. “Just… What if we’re only together because of this.”

Lu Feng’s gaze softened, fingers tightening around An Zhe’s hand.

"We were connected because we wanted to be together, we don't want to be together because we're soulmates."

Dream Where I Belong [Nangong Jingnu/Qi Yan | 泾渭情殇 - 请君莫笑 / Clear and Muddy Loss of Love | T rated | 4.5k words]

“No, I refuse,” Qi Yan leaned back and away from Ding You, fixing him with a sharp glare. Her wings were a horrible reminder of what had happened, a remnant of a past she could never return to. Why would she want to see something that was once so beautiful in its current damaged and twisted state?

They were just like her, in a way.

Help, My Partner Won't Stop Spending Money On Me [Jiang Xi / Xue Meng | 二哈和他的白猫师尊 - 肉包不吃肉 / 2ha | T Rated | 2.6k words]

Xue Meng looked up from the floury mess he'd made on the floor, smeared all over his face, and gave a disgustingly sweet smile he hoped would warm the grumpiest of men's hearts. "I was cooking."

"I highly doubt that was what you were doing, considering the mess and lack of anything vaguely edible. Didn't I tell you not to cook?"

“I just wanted to make something nice for when you got back,” Xue Meng pouted, looking like a petulant child that had thrown flour around the kitchen.

“You were trying to poison me,” Jiang Xi snapped, cold gaze flickering to the pan of mushy noodles and burnt vegetables.

Shadow Of My Grief [He Xuan / Shi Qingxuan | Heaven Officials Blessing | M rated | 2.1k words]

The cold voice rang through the manor, grating on Shi Qingxuan’s ears and sending shivers down their spine. A part of them had craved to hear that voice so much. But not like this. How they remembered it, soft and calm with a hint of irritation. Now it was as if it had iced over, devoid of all emotion.

So sinister.

(Maybe if they pleased him, they could get the old voice back).

Kiss It Away [Liu Mingyan / Ning Yingying / Sha Hualing | Scum Villain Self Saving System | T Rated | 711 words]

Against all her protests Ning Yingying found herself sandwiched between the two of them, lying on her back with them on either side. Liu Mingyang had an arm wrapped around her waist and was lightly kissing her cheek. Sha Hualing had nuzzled in at her neck, kissing marks that had Ning Yingying blushing further, and had thrown her uninjured leg over hers.

“You two-”

“Sh,” Liu Mingyan cut her off with a finger to her lips, gracefully leaning up onto one elbow. “Just let it go, A-Ying.”

Tagging @monroeknoxwrites and anyone else who wants to do it!

[unrulycompassion]

@dreamscaught

The child didn't know the truth about why she was different than the other children. Lyra didn't know why she had an animal companion that felt part of her, one that could talk, could feel everything she felt, that she could speak to internally. Lyra never knew that her mother had sent her away from their own world to make sure she was protected, safe from the Magisterium and the harm they would do if they ever learned of the prophecy about her. When her mother had gone to speak to an alethiometrist, she had told her about the prophecy. Knowing that if the Magisterium had ever found out, they would find and kill her, Marisa sent Lyra to the only place she thought she'd be safe, a world completely beyond their reach.

The nuns hadn't known what to make of this infant and animal, swaddled together when left at the doorstep of the English countryside orphanage. They had seen the animal change forms and at first wondered if there was something demonic at play, but they saw the sweet child, her bright smile, her gentle laugh, her kind eyes, and came to the conclusion that perhaps it was something divine. Though as Lyra grew older, the child's kindness persisted, but her penchant for trouble and chaos also began shining through. The nuns both loved and were troubled by Lyra, Lyra who both would do something like protect a stranger expecting nothing in return, and in the same day, spit out plum pits at the heads of people walking by for sport. There was also the matter of her animal, which Lyra had named Pantalaimon, after the names left on her blanket when left as a baby "Lyra and Pantalaimon". The shape-shifting animal was free to show himself and talk around the nuns, but when outsiders of the convent came in, like the priests or any visitors looking to adopt one of the children, Lyra was told to keep Pan hidden. The nuns worried about what an outsider might think of Pan, and worried about Lyra's safety.

Especially so when the President of the United States herself came to England apparently to adopt a child. The eleven year old was curious and went to go look at her, but one of the nuns stepped in front of her.

"No, Lyra, you mustn't." she spoke quietly.

"Why?" Lyra challenged.

"For your own good. Now go to your room."

The President was a public figure, and a child like Lyra with a secret like she had, that could be dangerous for her, some of the nuns thought. Though a few of the nuns also had a different reason, that Lyra was far too rambunctious and a menace to society to be adopted by someone as high profile as the president of America.

None of these reasons were told to Lyra, but even if they were, she probably wouldn't have cared. So few people ever actually came here to adopt children, and Lyra was always told to sit out the visits. She didn't know if the nuns intended to keep her here forever, but Lyra wanted to get out of here, to find out what Pan was, to find out why she had him and others didn't. All that, plus she longed for freedom of the outside, away from the orphanage. So it was why Lyra had snuck herself into the room that the President was in. First she went outside her window, climbing up onto the roofs. She had then lowered herself to the room they were in, and she swung herself into the window. Like the nuns told her though, she had Pan hidden as a tiny ladybug within her dress pocket. Landing on the floor in front of the woman Lyra had seen a glimpse of earlier, the President herself, Lyra lifted herself up off her knees and smiled brightly.

"Hi."

[never-never-land]

How do each of the ROs react to flirting with shy vs bold MC?

Shy MC—

Peter Pan: At first he gets really worried because he thinks he’s done something wrong. He doesn’t want you to ever feel like you can’t be 100% honest/forthcoming with him. So seeing you get so caught up in your mind? Or whatever happens whenever you get that shy? It worries him because he doesn’t want you to be like that. Once he learns that it’s just something that happens? That it doesn’t have any negative consequences? He’ll find it absolutely adorable and it’ll never fail to bring a smile to his lips.

James/Jasmine: With a shy MC they won’t be as forthcoming with their advances. You’ll still know that they want you but they’ll be gentle about it. As they don’t want to fluster the MC too much. They’ll still tease you, I mean they are a pirate, but it won’t be as extreme. They don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way. So if the bold approach isn’t the way to go? They’ll figure out the best way. It doesn’t matter how they end up getting you. All that matters is that they do. You’re their treasure. Precious more than gold trinket or fancy jewel.

Tinkerbell: She thinks it’s absolutely adorable. Tink isn’t the boldest of flirters but she isn’t shy either. So she’ll definitely understand where the MC is coming from. Won’t stop the soft smiles from appearing on her face as she waits for what you were trying to say. Enjoying the look in your eyes whenever you wait for her response. She’ll be gentle about her responses because she doesn’t want to fluster you too much. You’d worm your way that much more into her heart.

Lyra: She’d coo. Absolutely the most adorable thing she has ever seen. Honestly she might make it worse but it’s completely unintentional. She understands why the MC would be shy but if she wants you? And she’s clearly showcasing the fact? There’s no need to be shy in her mind. However, she’d be receptive to any type of advance the MC could make. She just finds one more adorable than the other.

Hunter: He’s the exact same way. So he’s grateful that he’s found someone else with his same approach. You’d both be bumbling messes as you try to figure out what to say to the other. Hunter has his sentiments shown through his actions though. So the MC might be alone with the whole word thing. Which could make it even more fun in the long run.

Bold MC—

Peter Pan: He’d think of it as a game. Even if somewhere in his mind he knows that it’s not. As games don’t make his heart flutter or skip a beat. Though that may also be because his opponent is you. You’ve never failed to create new feelings for Peter and he’s certain that it will be something that’ll never change.

James/Jasmine: They’d be amused. Matching you with an ease that not many could replicate. You’d be able to notice the gleam in their eyes as they return your statement with one of their own. Seeing how much they were enjoying the verbal sparring match. Though they always make sure to never cross the line of too much. Testing the waters with some things but never breaching the surface.

Tinkerbell: She’d probably get flustered. Her face turning red that has nothing to do with her anger. Blue eyes flitting across the room as she desperately searched for a way to change the subject. She knows that your words are from the heart but that doesn’t stop her own feelings from becoming too much. So she’d need a way out because she needs to figure everything out.

Lyra: She’d be intrigued. Happy that you were responding to her flirting in kind. Giddy even. As she can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. So she’s so happy that you’re accepting her advances and doing some of your own. You’d definitely notice that she starts to come up with some creative lines to say to you.

Hunter: He would try to ignore it. Not because he doesn’t like what he’s hearing but he just doesn’t know what to say in reply. He’d just need a few moments to recollect himself in order to try to continue the conversation with you— if it’s even salvageable at that point. He’ll make sure (depending on how far along you are) that he appreciates what you were trying to get at. That he wasn’t mad or anything of the sort.

[jamlavender]

Unholy Ghosts deleted scene: Chaos Family Christmas

I was reminded of this fic the other day, and after giving it a scan I remembered that the first version of the Christmas scene was very different to the one I ended up including in the posted story. This first draft was longer and more comedic, and I decided to write another because the fic was already so long and the tone had already become more contemplative. Upon giving that first draft a reread, though, I thought it was funny, and have decided to share it here! 

The necessary backstory for this is: Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter avoided falling into the abyss (though still killed Metatron) and tricked Lyra into coming North five years later. After a rocky start, she spends her winter break with them. This is towards the end of the fic, and if you want to read about how they got to this point (or why she’s calling them Asriel and Marisa) you can read the full story here. Also, for some of the jokes to work, the version of Boreal mentioned in this is the older version from the books. I hope you enjoy! 

One day, Lyra was wandering around the Saariselkä market with her mother, a migraine having confined a foul-tempered Asriel to the bedroom for the afternoon, when she spotted the date on a newspaper stacked outside the post office. Tucked away in the cabin, she’d largely lost track of time. “Look!” she said to Pan, who was rolling around in the snow. “It’s December twenty-third. It’s almost Christmas!”

They arrived home that afternoon with the usual spoils, along with a freshly plucked snow goose and a stack of root vegetables, ideal for roasting. They’d also found some sweet pears and fresh cream, which they could poach in red wine for dessert. Her mother had even let Lyra drive the motorsledge home, the wind whipping through their hair and flushing their cheeks the same bright pink as they charged over the white hills back to the cabin, both of them beaming, unbeknownst to the other.

Her father went off on a tirade when they explained what the purchases were for, of course, ranting and raving, saying that he hadn’t thrown God into an endless abyss to then celebrate his son’s birth like a sycophant. Marisa simply nodded along while she melted chocolatl into milk on the stove and spiked it with brandy, then guided Lyra to the sofa, mugs in hand, and whispered, “Let’s just wait for him to tire himself out, hmm?” which made Lyra laugh, and then she felt guilty for laughing, as she still did whenever they shared a shred of affection.

Lyra assumed that she’d prepare the meal alone on the day itself, but confronted with a sack of dirt-encrusted potatoes and a whole goose carcass, to say nothing of the chard or the gravy or the dessert, she realised that she might benefit from some assistance. She peered across the room to the lounge; her father was stretched on the sofa with a notebook on one leg and a newspaper on the other. She marched over with her hands on her hips. “There are too many potatoes for me to peel on my own, not if I’m going to stuff and season the goose too. I can’t do it all myself. You have to help me.”

He frowned. “I’m working.”

Lyra peered at his sparse scrawls. “You haven’t written a sentence in an hour.”

“I’m mulling,” he said petulantly, though Stelmaria had lifted her head, her ears twitching.  

Lyra folded her arms, spurred on by his dæmon’s mild enthusiasm. “It’s Christmas.”

“You know that means nothing to me.”

“I don’t care.” They stared at each other, an imperious mirror image. She raised an eyebrow. “Marisa’s excited about it, about us celebrating together. I can tell her that you’re refusing to participate, if you’d prefer that.”

The corner of his lip twitched, the hint of a smirk. “Are you trying to play us off each other?”

“Is it working?”

He sighed. “Can’t your mother do it?”

“She’s even more useless than you are. And she’s in the bath.”

Stelmaria got to her feet with a yawn and padded into the kitchen, giving Asriel no choice but to follow, a scowl etched across his face and a triumphant grin sprawled across Lyra’s.

She put him to work preparing the snow goose for the oven while she mixed fennel and star anise and salt together for the seasoning, grinding the spices in an old granite mortar with a chipped pestle and adding a squirt of lemon juice at the end. She’d assumed that he could handle basic meat preparation – her parents’ brutal reindeer butchery had made it clear that he knew his way around a cleaver – but when she checked on his progress, her eyes widened. She’d tasked him with lightly scouring the goose’s legs and breast with a knife to help the fat render, and he’d interpreted that as gouging deep trenches into the bird, burying the knife into the carcass.

“Asriel!” she said, grabbing the knife from him. “God, no, not like that. Like this.”

He rolled his eyes as she instructed him, dragging the fine point of the knife over the goose’s other leg. He tried again and immediately created a deep channel in the bird’s flesh. Lyra glared at him.

“Have you ever been gentle in your life?”

He let his head roll towards her. “What do you think?”

She shook her head and took over, passing him the peeler instead and shoving him towards the pile of potatoes she’d already scrubbed clean. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me,” she muttered, tracing delicate scratches into the bird’s skin and then rubbing the seasoning into the fresh grooves. “Threatening to break my arm was your first instinct when I was a child – don’t think I don’t remember you putting me in an armlock in the retiring room, or all those times you dragged me to Mrs Lonsdale by the wrists – and then you tore the bloody sky in half! When it wasn’t even necessary. But that’s just what you’re like, isn’t it – ”

“What?” Asriel had paused, peeler in one hand, semi-shorn potato in the other. Lyra blinked; she’d assumed that he’d just tuned her out.

“Nothing. I was just commenting on your inability to do anything with restraint.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t necessary?”

She stared at him. “Well, there were lots of windows already, weren’t there? Even in Oxford. But no, you had to go all the way to the North – ”

He dropped the peeler onto the countertop with a clatter. “There were other windows? In our world?”

“Yeah,” she said, sharing a nervous glance with Pan. “You – you didn’t know about them?”

“How could I?” he said. “Within days of leaving Svalbard this world was several windows away. I didn’t spare a thought for home until your mother and I returned. How many? Where are they? Did you say Oxford?”

“They’re closed now,” Lyra said, an unwelcome memory of Will’s face disappearing behind a cruel, luminous seam in the air coming to her mind. “And I only knew about a few, the Oxford ones, mostly, though Will’s dad must’ve come through one too. But they’d been around for ages, they must have. I mean, Latrom had been crossing for years.” She tilted her head. “You really didn’t know that there were other windows? Even now?”

“No,” he snapped, Stelmaria grizzling beside him. “No one deigned to tell me. And who’s this Latrom?”

“That creepy collector guy, with the snake-dæmon. Oh, he had a different name in our world…”

“Boreal,” Pantalaimon piped up from beside her. “Lord Boreal.”

Her father’s eyes widened. “Boreal was travelling between worlds?”

Lyra nodded. “He’d been at it for ages. Decades, I suppose. He ran a big company in Will’s world and had travelled all over, collecting things for his weird basement. I think he was trying to impress Marisa. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.”

That made Stelmaria growl, and Lyra’s heart began to beat a little faster.

“Your mother went with him? To another world?”

“She was looking for me, I think,” Lyra admitted. “Latrom – Boreal – whatever, he’d stolen my alethiometer to force us bring him the knife, and she came to intercept us. That didn’t work either.”

At that moment, her mother swanned into the kitchen, wearing a red cashmere dress and a coal-black shawl, a fragrant bloom of perfume following her, the intertwining notes of rose and myrrh a smell Lyra had come to recognise as soon as it appeared in the air. She smiled at the sight of them, Asriel and Lyra side by side in the kitchen, though the joy was wiped from her face as soon as Asriel exploded, “You went to another world with Boreal?”

Marisa glared at Lyra, and she took Pan in her arms at once and clutched him to her chest. “What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t realise it was a secret!” Lyra said. “It was years ago!”

“When I asked you to go to another world with me, you refused. But when he asked – ”

The golden monkey was pulling gently on Stelmaria’s ears, trying to placate her, but Marisa herself seemed unperturbed. She poured herself a glass of wine, the same deep red as her dress, and leaned against the dining table. “He had something to offer me that served my own interests. You wanted me to simply abandon my life’s work in favour of yours, without a moment’s hesitation or complaint.”

“Semantics,” Asriel growled.

Marisa sipped her wine, pursing her lips, unbearably smug. “Are you jealous, darling? I thought you didn’t care about my lovers.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You and he… ugh! That’s disgusting!”

“Thank you, Lyra,” her father said, smirking.

“He was so… so smarmy, and so old, even then!” Lyra said.

“He was not that old,” her mother snapped, shooting daggers at Asriel when he laughed.

“Trust me,” Asriel said, leaning towards Lyra but not lowering his voice, “she went older.”

“I don’t want to know!” Lyra said, at the same time Marisa growled, “Asriel.” The golden monkey’s soothing caresses became a vicious wrench, and then both Asriel and Stelmaria were grimacing.

Lyra shook her head, reaching for the warped tin tray holding the goose and carrying it over to the oven. “Ugh,” she said again, shivering slightly, thinking of Lord Boreal’s oily voice and vault of trinkets. “You did that to find me and I still got away. No wonder you were furious.” She closed the cast-iron door with a smack. “What happened to him, anyhow?”

“An altercation with a spectre,” her mother said smoothly. “If he’d been paying more attention, perhaps he’d have seen it coming. Alas.”  

“You quite certain that the old snake’s heart didn’t just give out?” Asriel said, irritation transformed neatly into amusement. “As your daughter has emphasised so thoroughly, he was getting on.”

“Seems rather hypocritical to be goading me about the age of one’s lovers, hmm?” her mother said, with a sneer. “How old was that Latvian witch? Five hundred? Six?”

“Hard to say, given that she looked younger even than you,” Asriel said, leaning back against the counter with a smug smile. The monkey bit Stelmaria, and Asriel grunted.

“Stop it,” Lyra said, pressing her hands to her ears. “Ugh, just – just stop it! Both of you!”

Her parents glanced at Lyra, and then looked back to each other. Silence fell across the trio, and just as Lyra thought that the ghastly conversation was over, her father said, “She was four hundred, I’ll have you know. The witch you’re thinking of was Siberian, and she was – ”

“You’re both so infuriating!” Lyra said, storming out of the kitchen into her bedroom, closing the door with a slam.  

She sat on her bed and folded her arms, expecting one of them to come and find her, but it soon became clear that her flouncing off had done little to end the argument. She could hear them bickering, two familiar tones resonating through the cabin’s wooden walls, with the occasional sharper snap or outraged shout. Then she heard the sound of glass smashing and a chair scraping across the ground. Lyra lay back on her bed with a groan, slotting her head beneath her pillow and pressing the soft cotton to her ears.

She waited a few minutes before resurfacing, pleased that the brawl had quietened, and then spent several more minutes flicking through her book, hoping that their tempers would have burned themselves out by the time she returned to the kitchen. But when she made her grand reappearance, expecting to see some contrition on their faces, even just a grain of sand’s worth, she found the kitchen empty, the only sound the faint hiss of the kettle on the stove. She looked around the empty room, noting the glass shards on the floor by the sink. “Do you think one of them ran off, and the other followed?” Pan said, peering out of the window.

“Their coats are still here…” Lyra said, frowning.

At that moment, the workshop door swung open and her father appeared in the doorway. His cheeks were flushed, and he was tucking his shirt back into his trousers. “Oh. You’re back.”

Lyra stared at him. He glanced at the oven, chest heaving. “Is that goose ready yet? I’m starving.”

Her mouth fell open. “You – you – ” She shook her head. “Oh my god!”

“Lyra, darling,” her mother said breathlessly, appearing beside Asriel, her face the same deep crimson as the dress she was still straightening.

“You two are a disgrace,” Lyra said, with all the admonition she could muster, but her father only snorted. She turned and stalked back to her bedroom. “Disgusting. Disgusting!”

This time her mother did appear after a few minutes, her wild hair neatened and her face dusted with powder, Lyra scowling beneath the covers and pretending to read when the knock came at the door. Marisa opened it and skulked inside, looking – perhaps for the first time in Lyra’s memory – truly embarrassed, her cheeks still aflame, now for different reasons.

“I’m sorry about that, darling,” she said, running a hand through her curls. “I don’t know what came over me. Now, won’t you join us in the kitchen again, hmm? I’ve mixed you a drink, with the cloudberry jenniver. I know that it’s your favourite.”

Lyra gave her an unimpressed glare. Her mother smiled sweetly, one hand stroking her dæmon’s golden back. “And you know your father doesn’t know what to do with a paring knife, nor a roast potato or a pear. It would be such a shame to see your lovely meal ruined, wouldn’t it? I certainly don’t know when to take the bird out of the oven.”

That got her out of bed, her mother’s hand rubbing gently between her shoulder blades as they returned to the kitchen. Her father was hacking at the pile of potatoes again, a half-finished cocktail by his side.

“There you are,” he said, holding out her drink. Lyra took a sip and suppressed a hum as the sweet spirit hit her throat. He gestured to the countertop. “Now, what do you want me to do with these?” he said. Before long, their workflow had resumed, Asriel scoffing at Lyra’s comments on his knife skills but following her instructions nonetheless, while her mother sat at the table and offered unhelpful suggestions, a glass of wine in her hand and her feet propped up on a chair.

“Merry Christmas to us,” Pan said after Marisa had made a particularly useless remark. Despite herself, Lyra smirked.

This is a deleted scene from my story Unholy Ghosts, in which Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter survive the abyss and reunite with their daughter. You can read the full story on AO3. 

[curiousscientistkae]

oh yeah since I have new peeps here is a rundown of myshe ra kiddos +finally adding some i never talked about. Ages are just to show gaps between kids, they are not "canon". Under the cut stuff. I uh....ramble

Glimmadora:

Harper-20, eldest daughter/child. Born Feb 1st. She/Her, Demi-Bi. Heir to Brightmoon, gets called 'AJ' (Adora Jr) a lot by Glimmer since she looks and acts a lot like Adora. Has shoulder length two toned blonde hair (top half light like She-ra, bottom darker like Adora) with sparkles at the edns, sparkling purple eyes shaped like Adora's, tan skin like Glimmer, glasses, sometimes wears a hearing aid in her right ear. Has cream/purple wing markings on her back that later will turn into feathery cream wings with purple tips.

Sound based powers (cause my brain was like light and sound) but still can create light stuff they just make sounds also. Also can turn invisible. Being unable to control the powers as a toddler, she lost her hearing in her right ear. Everyone in the family knows sign language.

Smart af, witty, as the eldest of all the kids can be protective to a fault, anxious, wants to not fuck up and be a great queen. Will overwork herself and is a perfectionist, though can be forgetful. Is a great shoulder to lean on/be listened to.

Grows to 6' (she got them angella genes (who is alive in this au, not micah) and athletic build like Adora. Named to match the 'er' at Glimmer's name, her sound powers, and the Lyra constellation. Glimmer was the one to have her.

Mira-13, youngest daughter eldest twin. Born July 9th. She/Her, Lesbian, about 5 mins older than Micah. Powerless Princess. Got her great aunt and grandpa's hair color, pale skin (same as Adora), ice blue eyes shaped like Adora's, freckles on face. Usually has hair in ponytail held up by that butterfly pin from princess prom. Also almost always has a red cloak around her. Called 'Mimi'

Born with no magic and not connected to the moonstone (long story short in my au, First Ones cannot use magic without help or it will kill them. Mira got the most FO genes thus she cannot use magic. Whole ass idea i need to explore). Tries to make up for it with fighting skills. While she doesn't show it a lot, she hates the fact she is powerless and will not grow wings either.

Clever, rebellious, loves to explore. Can have a temper to her, wears her heart on her sleeve. Natural born leader. Butts heads with her mothers the most and has run away a few times (once for a very very long time heh). At the end of the day, she doesn't want to be in the shadow of anyone/wants to make her own mark.

Grows to 5'6", chubby build like Glimmer. Named to match the 'ra' in Adora's name and the 'Mi' in Micah's name. OG she was going to have healing powers before I got rid of that so it was also sort for Miracles. 'Mira' is a star, one that is an actual shooting star. Adora was the one to have her

Micah-13, youngest child only son. Born July 9th. He/Him and They/Them. Demi-Boy. Bi, about 5 mins younger than Mira. Has spell powers. Messy, chin length dark purple hair (the same shade as the bottom half of Glimmer's hair), sky blue eyes with sparkles and shaped like Glimmer's, freckles on face. Light tan skin (between his sisters). Has purple wing markings on back and later will get purple feathered wings. Called MJ (Micah Jr) or Mickey

Like his grandfather, great aunt, and Ma before him, he can use spells. Struggles with it but eventually learns he is best at defensive ones. They look up to many of the guards in the castle and wants to be one when he grows up.

Quiet, soft spoken, nervous boy. Def keeps his twin sister from doing something totally stupid. Trusting, sometimes too much, can hold grudges if wronged badly. Tries to see the best in others. Named to honor his grandfather, they want to live up to them and be a great sorcerer

Grows to 5'11, more avg/a bit stocky build. Named to match the 'Mi' with Mira and as Micah is dead in this still (i made them a long time ago) after him. Adora was the one to have them.

Scorpia's Kid

Onca-13, only child of Scorpia. Born May 4th. They/Them. Non-binary Pan. Magicat/Scorpion. OG a scorptra kid but Catra no longer with Scorpia. Has medium length snow white hair, usually in a small pony tail, light brown skin, amber eyes (only iris has the color not the whole eye). Cat fangs and white cat tail. Has those scorpion shouler pads and venom their fangs (not as strong as their mother's) and blue blood. No fur. Called 'Onc' or by Scorpia her 'Lil' Kitling'

Has electrical powers like Scorpia. Venom will only make the part they bite numb, does not fully knock anyone out. Is quick on their feet.

Laid back, quick to adapt, resting bitch face, can be a little lazy, sometimes acts without thinking, and easily distracted. Before growth spurt, they were small and grew a hatred of being seen as always needing help. Just a gentle giant really.

Grows to 6'3, strong build like Scorpia. Named after the latin species name of the Jaguar.

(i so need to work and the following kids more rip)

Bowfuma

Robin-18, eldest son/child of Bow and Perfuma. Born March 20th, He/Him. Gay. Dark brown skin, dark brown, short hair, dark brown eyes. Wears glasses. Has plant powers. Called Robby. Heir to Plumeria.

Plant powers are a WIP kind of, might be like Perfuma or a little dif but is connected to the Runestone. Knows some archery but prefers a crossbow.

Self assured, he knows who he is and what he wants to do, fair-takes both sides of an argument into account. Is the least likely to cause shit. Can be messy and hates when his things are moved. Procrastinator.

Grows to 6', lean build. Named after both Robin Hood, the archer, and the bird

Eliza-16, only daughter. Born Sept 15th, She/Her, Aro/Ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown hair in two braids, dark brown eyes, freckles. Needs glasses but wears contacts. Powers allows her to talk to animals. Called 'Liza'.

Also connected to the runestone, Eliza and talk to animals. She actually started to talk to them before speaking to her parents. When she talks to them, to others it sounds like she is making the animal sounds.

Passionate and loves animals. While her cousin Mira puts her energy into trouble, she puts it into being outside and building things or helping her mom and dad. Hates being stuck inside. Can be whimsical. Loves to be challenged and doesn't back down from stuff, even when maybe she should. Can be a bit dense.

Grows to 5'8", lean build. Named after Eliza Thornberry.

Ash-15, youngest of their siblings. Born Nov 23rd. He/She/They genderfluid. No real label-uses queer. Medium brown skin, medium length, wavy blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Freckles. Has no powers but does not mind it at all.

Unlike his younger cousin, Mira, Ash does not care they do not have powers or are not next in line for the thorn. They are happy to just learn from their father or others. Kind of a jack of all trades.

Has a big heart and a love for all life. Once she is set on something, she sees it through to the end. Very observant of the world and what goes on in it. Can be impatient and doesn’t always take things seriously. Jokes way to often. Free-spirit

Grows to 5'10", thin build like his mom. Named after the type of tree which you could use to make a bow.

Seamista

Newt-18, oldest and only son of Sea Hawk and Mermista. Born Dec 11th, Trans Man He/Him, Pan ace. Dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, short blue hair. Has no runestone powers but can still turn into a merman when in the water.

Newt was next in line for the throne but stepped down, not liking the idea of being a king. He likes to spend time at the beach, swimming, and enjoying being in the sun. Usually keeps his sisters from killing each other.

Hard worker, does not usually slack off, does hate being in the spotlight. Humble. Good at reading emotions. Can lose track of time easily. Has his mother's dry sense of humor. Will faint at the sight of blood

Grows to 5'7", build like Sea Hawk. Named for the salamander that is associate with fire. And with it being an amphibian and transitioning from one stage to another, kind of works there also.

Sandra-15, oldest daughter. Born Mar 7th, She/Her, Pan. Medium brown skin, brown eyes, dark long brown curly hair. Has water based powers (still a WIP whoops). Can turn into a mermaid when in the water.

After her brother stepped down, she is now the heir to her kingdom. Still working a bit on her powers but is connected to the runestone. FIGHTS with her sister all the time.

Very much a girly girl, loves pink, skirts, sparkles, all that jazz. Takes her role as princess seriously. Dutiful and punctual. Hates messes, likes things to be neat. Does not like things randomly being dropped on her.

Grows to 5'8", Mermista's body build. Nickname is Sandy and is called that the most. Named cause yeah....sandy.

Yamuna-12, youngest child/daughter. Born Apr 13th, She/Her, Greyromo/sexual Lesbian. Long blue hair though will dye it many colors, usually orange, light brown skin, brown eyes. Water powers. Cannot fully turn into a mermaid when in the water, just gets webbing and gills.

She can control the temperature of the water around her, freezing it or boiling it at will. Is a great sailor

Pure Sea Hawk child, pretty much his clone. Wild, hyper, will set shit on fire. Takes pride in everything she does. Will blurt out things without thinking and can be pushy. Doesn't like to be told to do things. Zero filter.

Grows to 5'2", small body build. Named after one of the largest rivers in India.

(these guys are VERY WIP so not much to them)

Ada-Entrapta child, on the younger end. Adopted, trans woman, het. Does love robots and what not, helps their mom out a lot. Probably can run on little sleep and still be fine. Name was given to me by my good friend Dorku named after Ada Lovelace, a mathematician and first computer programmer. Very close with Onca

Luka and Felix-Catra's sons, adopted. Both magicats. Catra moves away from everyone and wouldnt really come into focus until much much later when Mira runs off. Luka and Felix idk ages yet but are only a year apart in age. Luka means light (he is one of Catra's lights now) and Felix is a cartoon cat. Would become close friends with Mira later on

(im too lazy to proof lmao and free to ask questions or change stuff up lmao god)

[cdyssey]

Headaches

Summary: Four weeks in London later, both Lyra and Mrs. Coulter have full heads.

AO3 Link

—

One quiet night, four weeks in London later, Lyra sits on the couch, pretending to read some history book that Mrs. Coulter insisted upon, while Mrs. Coulter herself is curled up in the chair opposite, scrawling notes in the margins of a thick book. Her loopy handwriting is pretty and small and illegible to Lyra, who never learned how to do cursive. (She ducked out of those particular lessons by feigning chicken pox; Roger obligingly dotted her with berry juice, snickering a little as he poked her right between the eyes.)

Mrs. Coulter always looks pretty, but Lyra reckons she’s the prettiest when she’s got her hair all down, and she’s not dressed to kill a man. Like tonight, for instance, she’s got on a silky robe, lavender and luxurious, its hem pooling like liquid on the floor. She seems ethereal, like a fairy almost, fragile and elegant and light, and it’s with a fond smile that Lyra remembers the conversation that they had at the beginning of all this, when they established what it means that she’s comfortable enough to wear pajamas around Lyra...

Pantalaimon, in his favorite ermine form, urgently nudges her hand, calling her back to her senses.

But think about it—that was weeks ago, Lyra, he whispers into her mind. Shouldn’t we be focusing on Roger? Shouldn’t she...? She promised...

She said to trust her, Pan... maybe she’s working on it right now, readin’ that big, fancy book of hers…?

I highly doubt Roger’s going to be found in a book, he returns crossly, turning into a wasp hovering next to her face. The buzzing of his wings catches the golden monkey’s attention; he’d been heretofore slinking up and down the stretch of floor next to Mrs. Coulter’s chair, looking strangely restless.

Surprised, Pan promptly pops back into his ermine skin again, landing on top of her chest with a neat thud.

Real smooth, she snaps, glaring at him over the top of her book.

I can’t help it!

“Lyra, dear?” Both Lyra and Pan look up to see that Mrs. Coulter’s attention has also been snagged from across the room. Indeed, she and the monkey both have directed their undivided attention towards them now, and their dual intensity is enough to force Pan to turn into a kitten, pressing his gray paws clumsily against the fabric of her shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lyra mumbles immediately, her cheeks feeling hot, “just thinking about a lotta stuff, you know?”

“The kind of stuff that makes your head feel full, huh?” Mrs. Coulter’s brow bends sympathetically as the monkey resumes his methodical pacing, back and forth and back again, his tiny hands clicking against the sleek wood. Pan watches him, a little discomfited, a little mesmerized, wondering why he’s so cagey tonight.

“Exactly!” Lyra exclaims. “That’s it. My head’s just a lil full.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, the gesture less sound than susurrus, “I know the feeling.”

And she raises the thick book she’s reading, allowing Lyra to get a good glimpse at the text for the first time. To her surprise, her guardian’s elegant handwriting isn’t the only part of it that’s entirely incomprehensible to her. Indeed, the tome seems to be written in an entirely different language.

Or, more accurately still, it looks like English would if someone completely didn’t know English and was just making excellent educated guesses.

“Latin,” Mrs. Coulter supplies, correctly interpreting the confusion in Lyra’s face. “The liturgical language. I began to learn it when I was around your age.”

It’s an impressive statement, communicative of just how intelligent Mrs. Coulter is, but frankly, Lyra isn’t all too surprised anymore. 

This lady seems to know everything, answering every question that the twelve-year old has with patience, kindness, and poise.

Even the little things.

The stupid ones.

Like how anbaric lights work.

Or why the sky is blue.

She won’t give you a straight answer about Roger, though, Pan reminds her stubbornly, kneading her pajama shirt with his claws. 

Lyra works hard to ignore him.

“Looks fancy,” she replies, “and hard.”

“It’s most certainly both,” Mrs. Coulter shakes her head, replacing the book on her lap. “I used to be able to read it so fluently when I was in college, declining nouns like a Roman conqueror... but now, out of practice, out of touch...”

“—your head feels all full,” Lyra finishes, tilting her head sympathetically. 

“Precisely, darling.” 

And for the first time in a long time—perhaps since the very first week of their acquaintance—she studies her guardian's face, deconstructing it like one of the math problems the Librarian used to keep setting in front of her. And her findings prove thus, the variables all clear—beneath the mask of her gentle smile, there’s an exhaustion about Mrs. Coulter.

Slight.

Subtle.

Tinged with the indefinable manic energy of someone who works and works and works.

Staring at the faint lines beneath her arctic blue eyes, Lyra suddenly thinks of Lord Asriel for some reason. As driven as he is, as cold and as fierce and as clever, sometimes, on his rare visits to Jordan College, she’s noticed that he looks a little exhausted, too.

“If your head feels all full,” Lyra asks, “why don’t you stop for awhile? Try again in the morning?”

The monkey briefly pauses in his tracks, staring at Lyra with open curiosity—tender, probing, mild—before continuing onwards, a dutiful soldier committed to his guard.

“Believe me,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, “I’ve asked myself the same question, but my employers... they’re always expecting me to produce innovative material, even when my project is more ambitious than their wildest dreams.”

Her voices raises a little at the end, and the golden monkey, his face turned away, growls lightly, his beautiful tail stiffly coiled. 

Pan transforms into a monkey, too, empathetically trying the emotion on for himself—the pent-up frustration of never feeling like he can do enough.

The form’s a little strange, but it kinda fits, too.

Because Lyra thinks about Roger again.

About how there’s so much more she can be doing to help him.

“Stick it to ‘em, Mrs. Coulter,” she says, sudden fierceness in her voice, flooding passion. Pan is a wildcat on her lap, black hackles raised. “Seriously. If you know you’re better, forget all the toerags that don’t get it.”

Mrs. Coulter’s eyes widen in quiet surprise, mouth slightly parted, before she suddenly breaks out into a laugh—sudden, sincere, and musical—the faint lines in her face creasing pleasantly. Even though he continues to pace, the monkey’s expression softens incrementally when he comes back around. 

“My, my,” she chuckles, “what coarse language... but thank you, Lyra. I appreciate it. Sincerely.”

And she gives Lyra another one of those radiant smiles again, the one that she loves so much, that makes the girl feel like she’s maybe, very possibly loved.

And Pan, feral though he appears, brushes against her cheek, purring.

“But, since we’re trading secrets now,” Mrs. Coulter continues, her brow furrowing above her eyes, “why is your own head full, dear? Feeling tired? Is it bedtime for you?”

Lyra’s nose automatically wrinkles in disdain. In London, she’s had a strict bedtime every night, which is a far cry from how her caretakers at Jordan College handled her nightly routine.

(Which is to say that at Jordan College, she didn’t really have a nightly routine. Someone would just yell at her to go to bed, and then she’d maybe do it or maybe not depending on her mood.)

“No,” she shakes her head defiantly, but then, a little more gently, a little more politely, “no... I’m just... I’m thinkin’ about Roger again, Mrs. Coulter. He’s gotta be so scared and lonely and confused…”

Pantalaimon, now an ermine again, watches the golden monkey, far bigger than him and far more graceful and far better at keeping a neutral face.

But as soon as Lyra mentions Roger, the golden monkey’s nose twists unpleasantly, as though he’s smelling something awful, and Pan lurches, instinctively recognizing the emotion for what it is.

Disgust.

Mrs. Coulter smiles sadly, her slender face perfectly free of her dæmon, and the monkey turns away again.

“I imagine so,” she murmurs, “but all my best people are doing their best to look for him, Lyra. Haven’t I told you this before?”

And even Lyra can hear the warning note in her voice this time, the implicit insistence that she shouldn’t push.

Push anyway, Pan encourages, pressing his black nose gently against her neck. For Roger, Lyra. He needs you.

“I... I know,” Lyra mumbles, “but I just thought we could help look for him, too, you know? All hands on deck.”

The monkey makes some sort of impatient sound that registers as such in the empty air, but still, Mrs. Coulter’s expression remains perfectly pleasant.

Soft.

Compassionate even.

Lyra’s heart thuds with its own confusion.

“If all else fails,” Mrs. Coulter promises, straightening her silk-enclosed shoulders, “we will, sweet girl. I wouldn’t lie to you—ever.”

Pantalaimon isn’t so sure about that, but Lyra half-heartedly brushes him off again.

Because she likes Mrs. Coulter.

She really does.

We can like someone and not believe them, Lyra, he reminds her gently.

That’s scary to think about, Pan.

I know.

Mrs. Coulter’s smile is so kind… so warm… so inviting…

Someone can like us and still not tell us the truth, Pan warns, watching the monkey’s vaguely cross expression.

That’s even scarier somehow.

I know.

[dragon-kazansky]

Going North - Chapter two

Summery: You and Lyra meet. There is just something about her you like, you didn’t realise at the time what an impact she would have on you.

Chapter 2 - Lyra Belacqua

You had remained on Maggie's boat per Faa's request. It was the best thing you could do right now. You promised to keep an eye on her, unknown to you that Tony had left the boat. Your mind was more focused on his mother and what she must be going through to think of what Tony, Billy's dear older brother, must be thinking.

Maggie hadn't come up to see you, but you knew she was still in the boat. You feared going down and upsetting her again. You turned your gaze down the river, the people on the boat next to you turned their heads he same way, where a boat was coming up. You recognised Tony and swore under your breath, scolding yourself for not paying more attention as to where he had gone. On the boat with them was a girl, one you hadn't seen before. She was dressed in blue satin dress, around her was a small purse.

They came up alongside the boat and climbed on, you hurried over to help them, calling for Maggie to come up.

Tony told you to follow him as he guided the girl downstairs. You had so many questions but did as he asked, following behind the girl.

Maggie hurried over and scolded her son for disappearing like that, but calmed down when she realised he had company. She turned to her soon who quickly tried explain everything, but he kept apologising between his words.

You gestured for the girl to come over to other side of the and sit down, checking her for injury. She remained silent, but didn't object to your slight fussy nature in making sure she was OK.

"What's your name?" You asked quietly, having not met her before, though it would seem the others had.

"Lyra Belacqua. This is Pan." She gave a smile. You smiled back. You had heard of her from the Gyptians. You didn't want to freak her out by telling her that though. She didn't know you at all. It would be weird to talk about her family history, the one she wasn't supposed to know, with her. You could see that Lyra had no idea just how important she was. You felt incredibly honoured to even be in the same room as her.

"I'm Y/N L/N. This is Oliver." You nodded at your daemon. The two daemons acknowledged each other.

"Tony, please, just explain how you found her. From the beginning." Ma said, looking over at the two of you.

"We were just out getting supplies."

"What supplies?" She asked. You eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, there was this van, and then there was someone driving it, and there was, like, noises from the back-" He explained, sounding as if this information wasn't important.

You grabbed Lyra a blanket and draped it around her. She thanked you quietly.

"-muffled screaming and that. Obviously, we was like, 'yeah, we're going to have to stop it.' So we chased it and got lucky." Tony concluded.

"Tony rescued me, Ma Costa." Lyra looked up at the other woman with a solemn gaze.

"I don't understand." She said softly, looking at Lyra with a gentle gaze. You tucked some of her hair behind her ear and smiled at her. Lyra seemed grateful to have you there in that moment.

"I was just out with the guys, Ma!"

"Don't even think about lying to me, Tony Costa, because you know you know you're not very good at it." She went over to where he was sitting.

"We got one! We've finally got a clue to where Billy is!" Tony stood up to his Ma. "So close."

"Close isn't good enough, though, is it?"

"It's something." Lyra spoke up. "It's a start." She looked at Ma. "The start to beating them."

Ma smiled somewhat.

"I'll give you that."

The conversation was brought to a stop when the door open. Farder Coram peeked inside the room.  He was looking at Lyra.

"We need the girl."

Lyra furrowed her gaze at him.

"It's all right." You said.

She shook her head.

You held out your hand to her, never breaking eye contact with her. She stared right back, for a moment not doing anything. She gave in and reached for you hand, hopping off the counter. You reached behind you and handed her a coat as she slipped the blanket off.

"It's cold outside." You smiled and offered to help her put it on. Lyra didn't say anything, but she turned her back and put her arms into the sleeves, letting you help her. She fastened it up herself and looked at you again. You let her hold your hand. You lead her up onto the deck and followed Farder Coram, knowing he won't ask you to leave them.

You climbed onto the big boat beside Maggie's.

Farder Coram gestured for Lyra to climb downstairs. She was a little hesitant in her movement so you let go of her hand and climbed down first. You hoped it would coax her into following you down, lending you her trust. She began to climb down after you.

Lord Faa was sitting, waiting for her. You gave her a reassuring smile as you lead her over to where he was. Coram sat on the seat to the left, you stood just beside the empty chair, gesturing for Lyra to sit. She walked over and sat down, looking at Lors Faa across from her.

"You've had a fortunate escape, Lyra Belacqua, but now, I ask you to help us." Faa stated. "Did you have a sense of where they were taking you?"

"Is he not talking - the Gobbler?" She asked.

"Not as yet. So, anything you saw?"

"I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know where they were taking me. I'm sorry. I wish I could be of more help." She sounded firm in her words.

"Ma Costa has agreed to take you in, so if we could talk again tomorrow..."

"You're keeping me here?"

"For your own safety. We want to look after you."

"Why? I need to find my friend Roger!" She pleaded. "I don't know who you are! And as fun as it may seem to stay a prisoner again..."

"You may not know us, but we know you, Lyra." Farder Coram spoke up. "And have done since you were a baby."

"You are not our prisoner, Lyra, but you have always been important to us."

"Is this because of my father?" She asked. "Because he's Lord Asriel?"

Lord Faa, Coram and yourself looked at each other. You knew very well of Lord Asriel and his work in the North. You didn't find him to be all that likeable in the slightest, despite how anyone else may view him. You had heard Lyra thought he was her uncle, so to find out she knew the truth came as a surprise to you. As far as you knew, no one had said anything here.

"Who told you that?" You asked softly.

"Your father was good to us." Faa said. "He has always respected our way of life. But you are special on your own account."

"Why?!"

"Frustrating as it may seem..." Faa stood up. "...that's not a question for me to answer. I can't ask you to trust us, Lyra. I can only hope we'll earn your trust. We all want to find the missing children. So... will you stay with us?"

Lyra stared at him blankly for a moment, then she turned to you. You just looked her in the eyes, silently hoping she would agree. Lyra turned back to him and nodded.

With permission, you were allowed to return to Ma Costa. As you both climbed back onto the smaller boat, she turned to you.

"Will you be staying with us?" She asked.

"Yes. I've been helping Ma Costa ever since I found out Billy was missing." You smiled at her sweetly. "You're very brave, Lyra."

She smiled at you.

"I think we'll get along nicely." You grinned. "Now, why don't you go down and get changed. I think Ma said she would leave some clothes out for you." You watched her climb down. You remained up top and looked up to the other boat. Farder Coram was up there looking sat you. He gave a single nod. You turned your gaze away from him.

You sat down and decided to give Lyra time to adjust.

After a while Ma Costa came past you.

"Is she here?"

"Down below. Thought I'd give her time to herself." You smiled at the woman. She nodded and headed down below, herself. You got and followed her.

"Lyra?"

You both walked down to where her bed was. Lyra was sitting there with Pan beside her.

"Oh, look at you. You make a fine Gyptian." Ma Costa told her. "Much better. I'm cooking. Will you help?"

Lyra looked up at you. You just smiled at her.

The three of you go off into the kitchen together.

"My friend, Roger, he worked in the kitchens." Lyra said, watching Ma Costa do her thing. You leaned against the counter and listened to Lyra, interested to hear all about her. This girl was intriguing to you, and so very important to the people here. There seemed to be a weight on her shoulders she was unaware of bearing right now.

"Never thought you should learn?" Maggie asked, looking over her shoulder.

"What good it do me?" She asked, unsure where the benefit lay on her.

You both laughed.

"Oh, a Gyptian woman learns more than just cooking in our kitchens, Lyra Belacqua. We're armed." She claps her hands together and the ingreident on her hands floats down into the pan causing it all to light up in a big flame. Lyra jumps backwards with a grin. You all laugh. "There you go, girl! While you're stuck indoors we'll learn you some of our tricks." She gets Lyra to hold her hands out, palm up, and tips the powder into them.

Lyra grins and aims for the pan, clapping her hands and watching it spark up again in flames. You and Ma Costa laugh together.

"There lesson one learned already. You'll be a Gyptian woman yet." Ma told her proudly with a smile.

"Is that what I'm going to be - a Gyptian woman?" Lyra asks, not liking that her future had been decided by someone else. You look at her with a serious gaze.

"You'll be whatever you want to be." You told her. "Be your path. That's your choice, and yours alone." You tap her nose. She chuckles.

"I'm glad you're staying, Lyra." Maggie said with a loving tone. She had taken Lyra as one of her own. "You'll be safe as houses here. You'll see."

Lyra smiled up at her. Then she turned to you, who was still leaning against the counter watching her fondly. Lyra had really grown on you. You suppose you could see a lot of yourself in her.

"Do you cook?" She asked.

"A little. Though Oliver can surely tell you that I'm not a role model when it comes to looking after myself." You chuckle softly. "I get so invested in my work sometimes, I forget to eat."

Lyra chuckled.

"What do you do?"

"I'm an engineer."

"Cool! So, you make things?" She looked all excited now.

"Make them. Fix them. Take them apart." You give a shrug. "You interested?"

Lyra nodded her head eagerly which made you smile.

"Can you teach me?"

"I don't see why not. The more you learn, the more skills you gain." You tuck some hair behind her ear, much like you did earlier when she first arrived. Lyra smiled at you with a bright gaze. "I'll teach you everything I know in good time."

Ma Costa smiled and caught her attention again. Lyra still had some cooking to do.

A little later you and Lyra went up top to get some fresh air. You had wanted to keep an eye on her to make sure she was settling in OK, but she had requested your company specifically. It warmed your heart to know she wanted to be around you. The two of you were getting along nicely, it seemed.

Farder Coram had requested Lyra come ride on his boat while the Gyptians made a move up the river. You reassured Lyra you would ride with her. She chose to sit at the front of the boat, playing with something in her hands.

You caught a glimpse of it and wanted someone to pinch you. You couldn't quite believe what you thought you were seeing. An alethiometer. You had never actually seen one before, and God knows what you would like to do if you got hold of one. Not that you ever would. Only six were ever made and if Lyra really was holding one, you wouldn't take it from her. She must have it for a reason.

"We're not like Mrs. Coulter, you know." Farder Coram said from beside Lyra. "We just want to keep you safe."

"Yeah, she said something similar to me, too." Lyra replied, a little snappy. You couldn't blame her. That woman was wicked and deceitful.

"I'm sure she did." Farder Coram sat down by Lyra. "Maybe she even meant it, but maybe Mrs. Coulter isn't as powerful as she thinks. After all, you got away didn't you? Although I still haven't got to the bottom of why she has a monkey daemon. Then again, I'm often confused by daemons. I would never have guessed Tony Costa's daemon would have settled as a hawk."

"I think I'll settle as a mole." Pan spoke up. You chuckled as you looked down at him.

"Oh! A mole, is it?" Farder Coram looked at him with a curious gaze.

"Yes, so he can burrow underground and stay safe from all you grown-ups." Lyra said, glaring at Coram. He chuckled and you couldn't contain your smile. She needed to get to know you all. You were sure she would change her mind sooner or later.

"Very sensible." He tapped her shoulder with his hat, chuckling still. "But, er, not so good on the water, huh? Nowhere to burrow."

"I don't want Pantalaimon to settle." She said. "I want him to be able to change forever. And so does he."

"Well, there will come a time when you will be tired of him changing." You watched Pan go sit next to Oliver and Farder Coram's cat daemon. "When you come of age, and your daemon settles into it's final form, it will reveal what kind of person you really are." He explains.

You looked at Oliver. You had always been fond of his owl settlement.

"Suppose you don't like what the shape that your daemon settles as?" Lyra asked.

"Well, that would mean you are discontented. Many people would like to have a lion as a daemon, and they end up with a poodle." She chuckled. "No, I would not a hair on Sophonax, but that is not to say that sometimes I don't dream her different." At that the cat looked up at him. He smiled at her.

Lyra was quiet. He noticed.

"Now... would you like to see the man that took you?" He stood up.

Your gaze instantly went to Lyra.

She looked up at Farder Cora and stood up slowly. He led the way, his daemon following him. Pan hopped up to come to Lyra's side, you followed behind her, Oliver flying above you.

You stood back as Farder Coram let Lyra look though the door.

The man was tied to a chair as he was being questioned. The man wasn't saying anything.

"Is this alright, Lyra?" Coram asked.

"He wanted to do worse to Roger and Billy. Why would they take them and the other children if it wasn't to hurt them?" Lyra said, not taking her eyes away from the window.

Farder Coram, Lyra and yourself waited outside to hear news.

"Is he saying anything?" Farder Coram asked the young man.

"He said she's taking them North, but he doesn't know where."

"Of course. They can do anything they want with them there."

"But I saw, in her study, plans, papers." Lyra spoke up. "If we could just go get them..."

"No! We are not going to Mrs. Coulter!" Farder Coram stated.

"Maybe we could..." The young man started.

"Mrs. Coulter cannot know where we are." Farder Coram argued. "If you get captured, we'd risk her knowing everything. I forbid it!" He stated firmly. You agreed with him, but bit your tongue. Right now you just wanted Lyra safe. Going to that wicked woman's place would be too risky.

Any other discussion from there was interrupted by a siren.

"Go! Now!" Farder Coram nodded at you. You placed a hand on Lyra's back and gently pushed her out the door. That siren only meant one thing and they could not find her.

The Magisterium.

"By order of the Magisterium, we are searching all Gyptian boats in the area. Prepare to be boarded." An announcement called.

"Go, Lyra. We can hide you." You urged, keeping close behind her. You both got up top and looked up to see two airships and four boats coming your way. On any other day you would be wanting to look at those airships, seeing there mechanics and looking at the insides, today you wanted nothing more than for them to turn around and go away.

"By order of the Magisterium, we are searching all Gyptian boats in the area. Prepare to be boarded."

"Hurry, Lyra!" You urged her to jump across to Tony on the next boat over. Pan leapt over with her and Tony took them down below. You remained on the first boat, keeping an eye on the nearing enemy.

"By order of the Magisterium, we are searching all Gyptian boats in the area. Prepare to be boarded."

They come up along side every boat and began to climb on board. You crossed your arms and stared at the blankly as they began their search. You had faith in Tony that he would hide her well.

"Under whose jurisdiction dare you board these boats?" Faa asked. "Article Three of the Watercourse Bill. The Magisterium have no rights here."

One of the men from the boat held up a picture of Lyra.

"Never seen her." Faa replied, straight faced.

All you could do was stand by and watch as they searched the boats. There was a lump in your throat. The Magisterium always made you anxious. More so when one of their dog daemons started barking down the door over the next boat over. Maggie's boat. The one Lyra was hiding in. You closed your eyes and hoped with every fibre of your being that they would not find her.

You had faith in Tony and his Ma.

One of them went down.

You held your breath, sharing a look with Lord Faa.

"She's not here. Let's get moving." One of the others said. They couldn't find her. You suddenly remembered to breathe. That was far too close for comfort.

The Magisterium began to retreat.

"We'll search further down river."

As soon as they were gone you hopped on over to the next boat and hurried down. Tony watched you rush past him. You turned on your heel and looked at him.

"Where is she?"

Ma came over and knelt down in the corner, removing the panel that led behind the cabinets.

"It's safe to come out." She told Lyra. You waited.

Lyra crawled out quickly and and rushed past you all, climbing up above deck and hopping off the boat. You and Ma were quick to chase her. You didn't want to lose sight of her as you hurried after her. She ran across the bank, angry and upset.

"I'll never be safe!" She yelled, knowing she was being followed.

"Where are you going now?" You yelled after her, coming to a stop.

"Away from you! Away from all THIS!" She also stopped, turned around and faced you.

"I'm sorry we had to keep you hid like that." Ma called out.

"And it's HER! It's ALL her." Lyra rubbed her temples. You couldn't blame her for being so upset. Everyone had said she would be safe with the Gyptians, but that hadn't quite worked out. "And Farder Coram says she won't find me, but I don't think she'll stop until she does! And I don't know why, and I don't know if I can trust you. All I do know is that, on my own, everything makes sense, and when I'm with you, I'm just as much at risk!"

"You're right." You nodded. "She won't stop until she finds you."

"Why?" Lyra begged. She needed answers. It was frustrating that people kept hiding things from her. Hoe could she ever trust people if they were not honest with her. "Why am I so important to her?"

Neither one of you said anything. You looked at Ma with a pleading look. She looked conflicted.

"How am I supposed to trust you when no-one tells me the truth?!" Lyra yells.

"The truth is complicated!" Ma yelled back. "Some things, you're better off not knowing."

"I am so bored of BEING TOLD THAT!" Lyra screamed.

You looked Lyra in the eye.

"She's your mother, Lyra! That's what no-one is telling you." You didn't break eye contact with her. She was stunned. "She's your ma."

Lyra began to shake her head as she stepped backwards. "No. No, no." She began to pick up her pace and head off in the other direction.

"Lyra. Please listen. Wait!" You hurried after her. "It's time you knew." She began to slow down a bit. "As a young man, Asriel, your father, went exploring all over the North. He was high-spirited, quick to anger. Your ma, she was already married. As soon as they met, they fell in love."

You told her everything you knew of her parents. These were things you had learned from the Gyptians and you could believe it. You felt for Lyra. Everyone had lied to her from the day she was born. She didn't deserve that.

Lyra came to a stop. You came up beside her and looked at her.

"When she was pregnant with you, they thought they could get away with it, but as soon as you were born, there was no hiding the Asriel in you. Your father had estates, so he put you in the care of a Gyptian nurse." You looked up to where Ma was standing. She had slowly followed the two of you. "But Edward Coulter, your mother's husband, followed, determined to kill you."

"Kill me?" Her voice broke slightly.

"Men get funny about their shame. He ransacked the place. The Gyptian hid you well, but he'd have you found eventually. Asriel fought him there and then, and Edward Coulter was killed. The law didn't know how to respond. Asriel killed defending his home, but the law also allows a man to avenge the violation of his wife. Your mother was broken with the shame of it all. It's why she's like she is. She was a pariah for years. And they stripped all money, land and property from Asriel."

Lyra began to cry. It was breaking your heart to see her like this, but she deserved to know.

"You, the law placed in a nunnery, but in the great flood, Asriel stole you away..." You smiled at her. "...and took you to Jordan College. And that's all I know. That's all they told me." You looked at Ma again. She had come to stand beside Lyra.

"You were the Gyptian nurse." Lyra looked up at her in understanding. Maggie nodded.

"I held you for the whole night." Ma told Lyra, smiling. "I just want to keep you safe. I didn't manage it before. Let me manage it now."

Ma sent her one more smile for placing a hand on her shoulder and walking away. Her daemon flew overhead. You looked at Lyra once more before doing the same.

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum  @sigynbandraoi-blog @procrastinatingmurder  @beebofrank13 @gemellath @eagleandthebutterfly @kpopgirlbtssvt @raeofstarshine @melancholicsthings @ettorah @iaintnofurry​

[1-800-hellraiser]

Art by Pahatao on Instagram 

Requested by: No one

Genre: fluff

Words: 1,481

Pages: 4.1

Associated song: Dissolve -Absofacto

!Trigger warning! Theres a bit of blood in this chapter!

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"I just want you to watch me dissolve, slowly, in a pool full of your love"

   

     You're chilling on the couch, watching f/m, waiting for your boyfriend to come home. It's been a few hours since he went out. He didn't tell you for what, but it must've been important, because he brought his twin hatchets with him.

    'Probably an order from his boss.' You thought. You hope he's home soon, it's almost  5:30 (17:30). You glance to the messy kitchen that hasen't been cleaned in about four days. You sigh, and grab your phone and headphones.

    You start to pick up the kitchen and put things away to clean it. As you put things away, you feel like you're missing something, like an important date. You shrug it off and continue cleaning.

×Time Skip because cleaning a kitchen isn't fun to describe or read about×

   You toss the gross-looking paper towel in the trash. You cleaned all the dishes, some are in the dishwasher. You also cleaned the counters and the stove top. You look around for something in your fridge to eat. You find some eggs and milk. You know exactly what to make. 

   You grab the pancake/waffle mix and the waffle maker. You also grab some thawed bacon and eggs. You take two pans from your cupboard, one for the bacon and one for the eggs. You turn around and grab an important ingredient you missed from the fridge. Butter. 

   You take a spatula and scoop some butter out of the carton and slap it into the pan. You turn on the stove and set the temperature to medium. Waiting for the butter to melt, you swipe the bacon off the counter.  Slicing the package open carefully, you take some of the thick meat out and slap it into the pan. 

   Watching the bacon sizzle in the pan makes your mouth water. You wipe your saliva away, and notice the butter is melted. You take an egg from the carton and crack it carefully into the buttered-up pan. You make sure there are no shells in the pan. Taking the pancake/waffle mix, you look at the directions on the back of the box. 

   "Two cups of mix, one cup of water, and two eggs." You read aloud to yourself. You snag an egg from it's carton and reach into the cupboard for a measuring cup and a mixing bowl.

   You pour some pancake/waffle mix into the measuring cup. When you have about a cup, you pour the mix into the bowl. It plops into the bowl, you take the cup and fill it to the one cup mark.

     You pour the water into the bowl with the mix, you also crack the egg into the bowl. Taking a whisk from a drawer next to the drawer with the knifes in it. Before you start mixing, you take the egg and flip it over, you do the same with the bacon. You start mixing the contents of the bowl.

   Once your done mixing, you take a ladle from the same drawer and scoop some mix out of the bowl. With precision, you pour the mix into the hot waffle maker and close it. You take a plate out and load the cooked egg and bacon onto it. You slap more butter in the egg pan and take more bacon for the bacon pan. 

   You watch the bacon and eggs sizzle in their pans before flipping the waffle maker and opening it. You carefully take a butter knife and slide the knife under the waffle so you can take it out. It finally comes out and you flop it onto Toby's plate. You grab a fork and put his plate in the microwave. 

  You still wonder why Toby isn't back yet. He's been acting weird today. You asked him what was wrong this morning, but he brushed you off, then left. He's been gone for about six hours. You let out a slightly exasperated huff and flip your egg. 

   'Was it something I did?' You think to yourself 'no, it couldn't have been, or, at least I don't think I did anything.' You sigh and flip your bacon. You take another ladle full of mix and pour it into the waffle maker. Your e/c orbs drift towards the front door. 'When will he be back...will he ever come back?'

   You decide not to think about the outcomes of this situation for now, and focus on cooking. You decide to spice things up a bit and pit some strawberries on both waffles. You take out some strawberries and a strainer. You place the strainer in the clean sink and put four strawberries in it.

   You wash the strawberries and put them in a paper tower and pat them dry. You take a knife from it's drawer and slice the leaves off the strawberries. You then slice the strawberries long-ways. You open the microwave door and arrange the strawberry slices in a circle on Toby's waffle. Once you finish, you close the microwave door. 

   You take a plate and place your eggs, bacon and waffle on it. You arrange the strawberries the same way you did for Toby. You place your plate aside on the counter, you wash the pans, knifes, whisk, bowl and waffle maker. After that, you sit down to eat your food. 

   In the middle of your meal, you glance at the stove clock. The electric clock read 6:49 (18:49) in green, blocky numbers. You sigh and pick at your egg. "Where could he possibly be?" You grumble to yourself. 

   As if on cue, your shaggy-haired, brunette boyfriend walked through the front door. You immediately got up to welcome Toby. You stopped, realizing he's covered in blood. He's also ticcing way more than he usually is, which means he's stressed. 

  "Hey Toby-" you stop talking and look into his hazel eyes. He's on the verge of tears. Toby engulfed you in a tight hug. You feel him shaking and feel your neck get kind of wet. You put a hand on his shakey and twitching back and rub in comforting circles. "Baby, what's wrong?"  

   "I-it's her b-b-birthday to-today..." your blood runs cold at his words. That's what you wanted to remember, its Lyra's birthday today... Toby's sister that died in a car crash. "Oh, honey I'm so sorry." You whisper, hugging him tighter. 

   After a while of standing in your living room, hugging, you pull away. "C'mon babe, lets get you cleaned up." You took off his hoddie and he went to go change his pants and take off his boots. You also took his googles and mouth guard. 

   You took his hoddie and put some peroxide on the bloody spots and let it sit. You scrubbed the blood off his mouth guard and goggles, being careful to not damage them. You set his mouth guard and goggles to dry as you put his hoddie into the washing machine. 

   Toby came out of your guys' room in a pair of casual grey sweatpants. You look at him and give him a sweet smile. He weakly smiles back at you. Your smiles always brighten up his day. You cup his damp cheek in your hand and place a gentle kiss on his lips. 

   "You hungry? I made you dinner. Its in the microwave." He nods and goes over and opens the microwave door. He almost tears up again. "God, I lo-love"tic"you s-s-so muc-much." Toby almost whispers as he stares at the plate of food in front of him. You sheepishly smile back. "I love you too sweetheart." You say back. 

   After Toby gets done eating, he joins you on the couch. You know he wants to cuddle, he's giving you the puppy eyes. You giggle a little bit and lay down with your head against the arm of the couch. You open your legs and pat your chest, he scoots towards you and crawls up to your chest.

   He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist. You place one of your hands on his back and one in his hair. You begin playing with his hair and scratching his scalp a bit. You lay your leg down flat on the edge of the couch and still have one bent. Before the episode of The Golden Girls even ends, he is asleep on your chest.

   'I guess I'm sleeping on the couch tonight' you think to yourself. Before you know it you've already dozed off.

[aion-rsa]

His Dark Materials Season 2 Episode 1 Review: The City of Magpies

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This His Dark Materials review contains spoilers. Here’s our spoiler-free review.

In our world, it’s been almost a year since Lyra and Pan stepped through the hole Lord Asriel tore in the sky. And what a year. If ever the prospect of turning your back on one reality and escaping to another were attractive, it’s now. In lieu of Asriel’s scientific equipment and what might be termed broad-minded attitude towards the moral taboo of child murder, this is our hole in the sky: courtesy of the BBC and HBO, a seven-episode trip out of here.

In episode one, His Dark Materials takes us to Cittàgazze, the city glimpsed by Asriel in the Northern Lights, where Lyra and Pan find themselves after crossing over. New world, new rules. Just when we had a grasp on one fantasy realm (human souls as talking animals, magical know-it-all gadget, ruling class of creepy church dudes…) we step into another with its own logic (no adults, no daemons, soul-sucking fog of evil, al fresco courtyard dining…). Usefully for us, the newly met Lyra and Will needed things explaining too, so we can learn at the same time. 

The city turned Marie Celeste after its adults came under attack by Spectres, or floating smoke-monsters who drain grown-ups of humanity and leave them wandering, empty husks, very like the post-incision children of Bolvangar. Spectres feed only on the post-pubescent and can’t be seen by children, so, much in the style of UK tabloid newspapers, they invisibly stalk kids on the cusp, waiting for the precise moment they tip over into adulthood and become fair game. That’s where the episode one cliff-hanger left Will – pursued by a soul-sucker biding its time. 

Before the monsters arrived, Lyra and Will’s scenes in Cittàgazze were a rare interlude of warmth in this chilly, cerebral story. The beautifully realised Mediterranean-style city was a picturesque backdrop for the kids’ meet-cute. Until that roiling squirm of smoke intestines showed up to remind us they were in mortal peril, for a time, there was peace. Will fixed the stand-up bath and made an ‘om-lat’, Lyra stole his bed and served him cooked eggshell (as a ward of Jordan College, she’s been waited on her whole life so doesn’t know a frying pan from a cheese grater). It was – briefly – gentle and sweet, two things in short supply elsewhere in this tale.

That’s evidenced by the continuing, twisted adventures of Mrs Coulter and the Magisterium. The sole woman among a bunch of men, Mrs Coulter is the Magisterium’s Smurfette, if that is, Smurfette had understood the heady and intoxicating power of her alien female sexuality and used it to manipulate Papa Smurf to perform her evil bidding, which, of course she did. Why else do you think she wore those shoes. 

Read more

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His Dark Materials Season One Recap: Dust, Daemons and Betrayal

By Louisa Mellor

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How His Dark Materials Expanded Its Writing Staff For Season 2

By Kayti Burt

Mrs Coulter’s manipulation of the god squad is deliciously twisted. Dressed in siren-red, with her Hedy Lamarr glamour, she has a devil’s instinct for temptation. To the priests she doesn’t stun into terrified silence by her presence alone, she pantomimes faux-subservience while clearly giving them (apologies for baseness while discussing a family show but hey, I didn’t script that ring-kissing scene) the under-the-cassock excitement of their lives.

The submarine setting gave it all more than a touch of WWII noir thriller. As dark as Cittàgazze was light, it made Mrs Coulter a Gestapo villain. Such evil. Ruth Wilson, of course, wrapped herself in those scenes like they were a Dalmatian-fur coat. She’s never channelled the role of classic baddy so fully as when slowly and deliberately removing her jewellery in preparation to torture a prisoner until they begged for death. 

Death arrived in the form of the no-messing witch queen Ruta Skadi (Jade Anouka), who may have failed to convince her sisters to join her attack on The Magisterium but succeeded in both keeping the prophecy about Lyra from her mother, and making an impression on us. That was a rock-star entrance, flying through the storm, releasing Mrs Coulter’s victim from her pain, and cutting a swathe through Magisterium security before sticking one right in the Cardinal’s chest. Now Mrs Coulter’s going to finish him off – somebody add priest-murder to that woman’s ever-growing list of sins.

His Dark Materials’ witches are at their best in battle. Standing around on clifftops discussing witch admin like the even more humourless relations of The Lord of the Rings’ elves, they’re less exciting. That council of witches scene was beautiful – I mean, look at those ladies, look at those dresses – but compared to other characters, their high fantasy formality drains them of life. Now that Lee Scoresby (Lin Manuel Miranda) has his magic flower and a side mission off in search of a magical protective doohickey, let’s hope the witches only show up to dish out more high-speed ass-kickings.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Overall, ‘The City of Magpies’ is a confident opener on an impressive scale. It keeps the momentum of the finale going while leaving enough space around Lyra and Will’s first meeting to let us get close to them before they’re swept up by the plot. Outside, the storm clouds of Destiny, a Mighty Battle, and all that capital letter fantasy stuff are swirling, but the cautiously developing intimacy of those two gives us that all-important emotional reason to take their side in the fight to come.

The post His Dark Materials Season 2 Episode 1 Review: The City of Magpies appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fern-stone]

fanfic authors tag game

Tagged by:  @besidemethewholedamntime​ thank you so much!!

Tagging: @nooowestayandgetcaught​ (gl going through your 1000+ fics <3) @rrusi​ and anyone else who want’s to

Ao3 name: FernStone

Fandoms: His Dark Materials, Good Omens, Marvel, Pokemon, MCU, Stranger Things (Fandoms with >1 fic)

Number of fics: 54

1. Fic you spent the most time on: When We Meet, It Will Be Marvelous the one one AO3 was first published in December 2017 and is still unfinished xD One day aha. Technically I started planning it (and its sequel) in early highschool... so 2012? Yeah

2. Fic you spent the least time on: My Heart and Soul Is My Home a relatively short Dadriel fic that i wrote in like an hour to cheer myself up xD 

3. Longest fic:  An Ocean Apart, But A Message Away at 61873 words. The sequel to WWMIWBM took me like 6 months to write that time round, but it was a rewrite from 2012 oops 

4. Shortest fic: Ringing Softly at 212 words, from femslash feb

5. Most hits: Technically AOABAMA, then WWMIWBM, then Sinners (probably cause it includes Masriel technically HAH, also my second longest fic) 

6. Most kudos: Exact same as above, with the fourth place being Hell is a Pile of Greasy Chips

7. Most comment threads: AOABAMA, then Sinners

8. Fave fic you wrote: Probably Fragile Dreams cause we all love a good old bit of angst, or I Learned From You cause cutie Elmax (also It’s Not So Bad, With You but thats technically an original work)

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Uhhh I want to expand on quite a few of my Femslash Feb fics - my Leaf / Cynthia one Snapshot, my Lyra/OFC one How To Say This and my Kali/Robin one A Blessing In Disguise especially!

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: I’m actually gonna share two WIPs cause I can ;)

The first is from my WIP post canon / The Amber Spyglass lyrawill that I’ve been writing for a whilllle

Once she was gone the two Daemon reappeared, Pan leaping up onto Lyra’s lap and Kirjava climbing onto the counter beside her. Lyra smiled as she gently ran a hand through Kirjava’s fur.

 Will sighed softly, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin against the top of her head. One of her arms snaked around his waist and she rested her head against his chest. They stayed there, silently, drinking in each other’s presence and warmth. 

He felt content. 

Eventually he pulled away so that he could look down at her. She smiled up with him, bright and contagious. He leaned forward to kiss her, soft and gentle, before resting his forehead against hers.

“So, how long are you staying?” he murmured against her lips. 

“Forever.”

And the second is from my Kali/Robin femslash feb continuation - summer monster hunting camp idea thing that i’ve grown way to attached to xD 

At least the car ride had been peaceful. There had been a bit of a fight as to who was going where, but Hopper had always been adamant that El was coming with him. That was how he'd ended up with three girls in his car, what with Kali and Max fairly naturally following El. He certainly didn't envy Joyce having the four boys with her. 

Sure, Kali still gave of some "I'll kill you without even thinking about it" vibes and had even gone as far as to threaten Hopper one time he'd stepped over the line in his anger towards El but, well, he understood that. He'd never admit it but he was glad that she was also there for El. So while Kali and Hopper weren't exactly close, they had a mutual understanding. And there was a shared respect there too, not to mention the love they both had for El. 

It had resulted in a comfortable silence on the journey while the two younger girls giggled in the back. Hopper even had a gentle smile across his face as he hummed along to the music El particularly liked. It was going to he a good trip. 

 At least he'd thought that until he'd arrived and everyone else had piled in just a few minutes after them. Soon the air was filled with the loud sounds of laughter and talking, Dustin had already knocked over a glass, Lucas and Max were arguing loudly over something stupid and El was clinging to Hopper as if the house itself was about to eat her up. He carefully maneuvered himself so he could wrap one arm around her to cover one of her ears while he shouted at everyone else to shut the fuck up.

[never-never-land]

So let’s say mc being all clumsy fell on top or beneath the ro and it’s in the crushing stage so the mc just freezes up and gets all flushed red and maybe it leads to a almost kiss that gets interrupted. Thank you! 💓 also i saw some song recommendations and i was listening to crowded room and we own the night by selena gomez and it just made me think of the ros. Hopefully that's ok! ❤❤

It’s completely alright to send in song recommendations. I adore seeing them and discovering new songs to listen to. Thank you so much for sending them to me 💕

—————

Peter Pan: Smiling up at you, Peter’s nose scrunches ever-so-slightly at the interruption but his eyes never lose that special sparkle. The warmth of his gaze letting you forget about chilly night air wrapping around you both. “I know we should be getting up,” he murmurs as he gently traces your cheek with one finger. “But I don’t want to leave the only place I was meant to be in.”

James/Jasmine: Wrapping their arm firmly around your waist, J hoists you up against their body. Their muscular form pressing into you as their full lips ghost across your cheek. A husky rumble escaping their lips as they listen for the familiar clatter of boot-clad feet against the planks again. “We may have been interrupted this time, love,” they husk out with a saccharine smile. “Next time I’ll make sure that we aren’t. So be careful what you wish for.”

Tinkerbell: Face heating up in embarrassment, Tink hides her face behind her hands for a moment. The sapphire blue of her eyes glinting with residual heat as she finally meets your gaze after she collects herself. “We should be going, flower,” she whispers with a gentle smile quirking her lips. “If I know them they’re already gearing up another attack to get us down for dinner. Wouldn’t want to give them another show would we?”

Lyra: Flopping her head down onto the ground, after rolling off of you, Lyra let’s loose a long suffering groan. “I thought needless interruptions would stop after leaving Atlantis but I think it’s only gotten worse.” She slams her hand against the coarse sand of the beach. Causing speckles of it to fly into the air in a golden mist. “I think we need to plan our next venture with a bit more care. Don’t you agree?”

Hunter: Clearing his throat, Hunter gets up automatically and offers a hand to you. His silent presence doing little to abate the growing feeling of anxiousness between you both. Especially not when the faint sounds of signing and laughter could be heard from the clearing below. “We best be on our way,” he says after a moment. One of his hands rubbing the back of his neck. Gray eyes watching you without a hint of letting you passed before, in the blink of an eye, they soften. “Would you like to sit with me?”

[bunyip92]

i read this series many many moons ago when i was just starting high school. i remember loving it then, but i think i love it more now.

i am confused and enchanted. i have so many questions, and i can’t remember whether they’re answered in later books or not.

there are..... so many spoilers under this cut........ please don’t hurt yourself if u are one of the 6 ppl on planet earth who has not read this book

first: can daemons be human?

Lyra says pretty clearly in the last part of the book when she’s lying to Iofur Raknison that they aren’t:

‘Just like when people have daemons, they’re animal-formed, so when a bear has a daemon, it’ll be human.’ [pp. 336]

this draws pretty firm lines between humans and animals, so i don’t think they can be interchangeable in this way. and yet:

On each coffin, Lyra was interested to see, a brass plaque bore a picture of a different being: this one a basilisk, this a fair woman, this a serpent, this a monkey. She realized that they were images of the dead men’s daemons. [pp. 49]

so what’s the truth!! has Lyra just misunderstood something?

there’s a lot of divides (and connections) drawn in this book, not just between humans and animals. for instance, in all the adult societies described, the men and women are given very separate roles. in the case of the gyptians, both roles are given equal respect. in the case of the academic societies of oxford -- not so much. in the case of the witches.... yes, equal? i think?

children at play is the only time this division is not represented, and even then the beginnings of it are coming about during Lyra’s time in Bolvangar. it’s clear that this is an Adult thing, then, but is it then implied that the division is natural?

back to the division between humans and animals -- before really meeting Iorek, Lyra suggests that the difference between animals and humans is that humans have daemons. that we can be separate from our souls and consult with them -- like certain kind of self-awareness, i think? then she realizes that Iorek has his armour is like his daemon -- but even so, the armoured bears wouldn’t entirely be ‘animal’ in our world. is that because they are aware of their souls?

speaking of, where are the animal-animals. and how are they treated? i guess if a person has an animal daemon, they aren’t likely to project as heavily as we do onto a pet. there were the birds in Iofur’s castle, i suppose. and the seals that were eaten, and the dolphins that Pan played with when they were with the gyptians.

speaking of the gyptians -- HOW GREAT ARE THEY. their politics are transparent and their society runs on kindness and acceptance:

‘What you’re most like is marsh-fire, that’s the place you have in the gyptian scheme; you got witch-oil in your soul. Deceptive, that’s what you are, child.’ Lyra was hurt. “I en’t never deceived anyone! You ask...” There was no one to ask, of course, but Ma Costa laughed, but kindly. “Can’t you see I’m a-paying you a compliment, you gosling?” she said, and Lyra was pacified, though she didn’t understand. [pp. 113]

she’s a liar, and they don’t hesitate to love her.

honourable mentions:

the religious language when talking about the Aurora

Lyra’s constantly evolving speech

when Lyra learns to be conscious and responsible for her actions through love

Lyra slipped down at once and stood between him and Iorek Byrnison, conscious that she had told the bear there was no need for his armour. [pp. 211]

this part:

Pantalaimon was a snarling snow leopard, just like Lord Asriel’s daemon, but she didn’t see that; all she saw was right and wrong. [pp. 219]

our greatest fears are always of things that have already happened to us:

Because Lyra now realized, if she hadn’t done so before, that all the fear in her nature was drawn to Mrs Coulter as a compass needle is drawn to the Pole. All the other things she’d seen, and even the hideous cruelty of the intercision, she could cope with; she was strong enough; but the thought of that sweet face and gentle voice, the image of that golden playful monkey, was enough to melt her stomach and make her pale and nauseous. [pp. 265]

THE SCENE WHERE THE TEXAN LEE SCORESBY PRAGMATICALLY AND RESPECTFULLY EXPLAINS CAPITALISM TO THE WITCH SERAFINA PEKKALA. THE WHOLE SCENE.

Lord Asriel explaining Biblical stories as imaginary numbers and then immediately racing off into the sky to destroy death.

the whole Svalbard part of this book was incredible; i can’t remember the last time i read falling action like that. my heart was beating so fast for like a hundred pages and it was amazing.

alrightyroo! i think i’m going to start plotting these reviews out a little better (or at all). this is kind of a disaster.

- bunyip xo

goodreads review

[never-never-land]

I love you and @the-kingshound interacting with one another 💜. It’s so cute. Especially with the character shipping.

Thank you!!! I’ve actually shipped all of my characters with Kal’s. Hopefully @the-kingshound doesn’t mind my shipping.

Peter Pan: Morien— I find the differences very intriguing. Especially with Peter being a pillar of strength and harmony already. He would never want to let them fall down (not while he can help it). He’d always be there for them if they allowed him to be. Always.

James/Jasmine: Evaine (obviously), I can see them both being exactly what the other person needs. A shoulder to lean on. An anchor in the tumultuous sea that has been their lives. With a type of humor only the other could get (they’d understand one another completely).

Tinkerbell: Yniol. Two gentle beans? Both being protective? Sign me up. I adore the thought of them being together or Yniol carrying Tink (in her fairy form) in their pocket for safe keeping. A pairing that would always have each other’s back.

Lyra: Arthur… mainly because I find the idea hilarious. But I also think that they’d be great together. Lyra would offer a lightheartedness that I think Arthur needs.

Hunter: Gwyar, I can see Hunter being drawn to their gentle nature. The warmth that they always exude but he wouldn’t want to let his guard down too much. That’s something Gwyar would have to work at first.