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#I was just 15 when I drew all those silly things but why does it feel like it was just yesterday

citizen-zero · 1 year

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I guess part of the reason that the whole “proshipper/anti” discourse is so silly to me is because like. I actually lived the situation that so many of them talk about, the whole “predators will show your fic to minors in order to groom them” thing. Except that’s not…that’s not really what happened.

The 25 year old woman I “dated” when I was 15 was someone I met through the Hetalia fandom; we did a lot of NSFW RPs and bonded over smutty fic. She drew, commissioned, and purchased smutty art and doujins that she shared with me. She came to visit me twice and like, we never went further than kissing, but I know for a fact that she wanted to. She said as much, and I think if I hadn’t been worried about getting caught by my mom, we would’ve. And this isn’t super distressing for me to talk about but it still makes me feel a little dirty. Not in a shame-filled way, I don’t think it’s my fault or anything, but I don’t feel good about it either.

Anyway, point is, it’s literally the situation that people wave around as an example of what might happen if we let people write about Sexually Immoral Topics, and yet I maintain that none of it was the fault of NSFW fan art/fiction. Not even the handful of teacher/student or incest fics I read and enjoyed—even when I was “dating” her, I recognized that that sort of relationship was wrong and should only be enjoyed in a fictional context. That sort of content was cathartic for me because I could engage with it but didn’t have to see or experience it IRL where it would have actual consequences. It’s the same as how playing GTA let me shoot rocket launchers at cops and blow up cars without…you know, doing that.

No, all of it was squarely the fault of the adult woman who was trying to fuck a teenage girl. All the emotional stress I felt then and all the lingering sour taste I have now is her fault. It wasn’t a single one of those artists’ or authors’ faults that, for almost two years, I was denying/unable to recognize the wrongness of my own situation even though I could recognize it in fictional ones. All of it was her fault for earning the trust of a teenager and then pursuing a “relationship.” The only function that the sexual content served was to be just another part of fandom to bond over, just like we bonded over cosplay and merchandise and new canon material and anime episodes and dubs and—you get it. It was one part of a whole. Like, smutty fan works are so common that it didn’t raise a red flag, because, well…everyone likes that stuff. If we’d been hanging out offline it would’ve been a red flag because adults talking about about sex with teenagers in a non-educational context is creepy. But in the fandom space, it’s just normal and part of the fun and it was okay because it wasn’t about us, it was about fake people.

So that makes it hard for me to take the discourse seriously, because 1) I don’t think most of you even know what you’re angry about anymore, and 2) sexual fan works and RPs didn’t have the heavy influence in my situation that you think they did. They were a part of the equation, but that woman could’ve easily groomed me even if we’d never talked about sex before we got into a “relationship.” The reason why I could recognize the wrongness of a fictional relationship but not my own was because she had earned my trust and used it to emotionally manipulate me into believing we were an exception.

I think a lot of you have a very…early 2000s after-school special idea of the role fandom can play in grooming and abuse. I think a lot of you imagine a creepy adult sending a teacher/student fic to a 14 year old and saying, “See, this is normal and okay because it’s in a fan fiction.” And I’m not saying that never ever happens, but I think it’s far more common for it to happen the same way it does offline: the adult bonds with the minor over shared interests, earns their trust, makes them feel cool and special, and then uses that trust and goodwill to convince them that the abuse is okay and that other people “don’t/won’t understand.” It’s exactly the same tactics as adult men “dating” high school girls.

I think it’s unproductive at best to go after artists and authors who create the kind of content I was reading back then, because like, I recognized that the fictional scenarios would be wrong IRL and it still didn’t help. I’m betting most people reading AND making that stuff recognize on some level that it’d be wrong IRL. Blaming abuse on fan work and not solely on predators means that one of the ways that predators can gain your trust is by aligning themselves with “antis,” the same way that right wingers can get you to agree with them on anything by dressing it up in progressive language. I dread to say it but I am confident that it’s already happening.

I’m not saying anyone needs to read something they’re uncomfortable with, or interact with people who enjoy those things, but I do think you need to develop some nuance and recognize that the vast majority of people making the sexual content you dislike aren’t doing so for nefarious reasons. Yes, fiction can normalize and perpetuate bad ideas, but fiction isn’t the cause, it’s the symptom. You’re not going to end sexual abuse by witch hunting people who write about, like, teenagers dating and having sex (which, as we all know, definitely doesn’t happen IRL). At best it’s unproductive, and at worst you create an environment where teens feel even greater shame about wanting to explore their sexuality by writing about characters their own age, and adults feel afraid to draw inspiration from their own life experiences for fear someone will call them a predator. Which sucks for everyone, but it also means that queer teens and adults (who are already made to feel like their feelings are dirty and inappropriate) effectively end up closeted and unable to come to terms with their identities and see their experiences represented somewhere.

So…I don’t really have a smooth conclusion here. I just think the shipping discourse is fucking stupid because it assumes a world that runs on Internet Stranger Danger PSA logic.

#personal #erika's blog and bar

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skellebonez · 3 years

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That prompt with Wukong and DBK was so silly!! Thank you so much for writing it! If I may, could I ask for a continuation? You can go buck wild with but if you need some prompts how about 20 and 22?

This took me a while to get to so I really hope the wait was worth it! For anyone curious, this is the original prompt and Winter drew this amazing art based on it as well!

Do you even know what subtle means?/ Oh, you’re just grumpy.

"It's been at least... 15 minutes again?" Xiaotian questioned, trying to hold back a chuckle as he glanced above them to a rooftop as nondescriptly as possible.

"Oh, at least 20 I bet," Red Son argued, watching as Xiaojiao tried to keep from laughing into her snack. "Wukong is one thing, but my father is hardly a master of sneaking around."

"What are they even doing?" Xiaojiao chimed in around a bite of food. "I mean, I know they're following us. But why? You said they haven't done it since the last time but why now?"

Red Son groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

----------

"Seriously, DBK?" Wukong raised an eyebrow at the large bull beside him. "That's the angle you went with?"

The two were out on another... "reconnaissance mission", that's it. Just making sure their hard work paid off. They just happened to meet up at the same time and happened to want to both gloat about their accomplishments and nitpick the other's methods at the same time.

It had been two weeks since the last time they bumped into each other following their respective kids to see just exactly they were hiding from them. Not much in the grand scheme has changed, both boys (and Xiaojiao when Wukong had met her) had kept a tight lid on the situation and gave no indication as to whether or not the other boy had told them anything. If they weren't so hungry for dirt to use against each other to best them in their little Dading competition they would be almost proud of how well they were doing at keeping secrets.

"Ah, yes, because sneakily painting fire repelling charms into the interior of your kid's jacket in the same color as the fabric is better," DBK snorted out, shaking his head.

"Yes, it is, because I am thinking in practicality!" Wukong smirked. "Considering Red's clothes are probably all fire-proof already it seemed like a good idea to give Xiaotian the extra protection in case they ever get into a fight and something goes wrong."

"My son has never accidentally lit yours on fire," DBK deadpanned with a frown. "Even in their mock battles for keeping up appearances. YOURS, on the other hand, has smacked mine with his staff on multiple occasions outside of those battles."

"On accident, I am certain," Wukong defended. "And I know Red Son, he is way too tough to be taken out by a few accidental whacks of my staff."

His words seemed to have some kind of an effect on DBK, perhaps it was his casual praising of how strong his son was, but the large bull demon relaxed ever so slightly in his cross armed stance as he watched the trio talk over snacks and drinks. "I suppose. But I still stand by what I told him."

"I mean... it's not bad," Wukong admitted softly with a shrug. But 'should you bring anyone around I will assure they do not come to harm in our home'? Then suggesting you learn how to cook more dishes? Together? Do you even know what subtle means? Red had got to know we're onto them by now! I thought you said a wall could out-dad me!"

"I've only been in the living world for a few months and my son is suddenly no longer a small child, forgive me for having some gaps in my parenting expertise," DBK snapped, tensing back up and somewhere deep down that Wukong thought he buried long ago he felt a pang of guilt for upsetting the bull demon.

"...The cooking thing isn't a bad idea though," Wukong admitted, coming to stand closer to him. "It seems like he likes to cook, I saw him buying a cook book last time. So... good job on bringing up something he likes to do I guess." He rushed out the last words, unused to praising his once-brother any longer.

It seemed DBK was just as unused to accepting said praise let alone hearing it. He looked over at the Monkey King and it seemed as if he couldn't settle on a shocked or pleasantly surprised expression. Eventually it flattened out into his normal one, slightly grumpy. "I. Appreciate that. What else have you done to parent your boy?"

"I asked him to give me advice on how to start spending time with other people since I've been a recluse for the last few centuries," Wukong bragged puffing out his chest. "Figured if he thought he was running the show I could subtly steer the lessons to something like, say, meeting a friend of his he hasn't mentioned to me yet."

DBK looked at Wukong with his mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed and gaze narrowed in an almost indescribable expression... but it looked like he was angry about being outdone.

"Oh, you're just grumpy because you didn't think of it first," Wukong smirked widely, taking in the flush of embarrassment that spread on DBK's face.

"Fine, I am and I hate it, are you happy now?"

"Oh very."

"Don't push your luck, simian."

----------

"Aw, I think it's kinda sweet," Xiaojiao said with a smile as Red Son tried to keep his hair from flaring up anymore than it already had. "Your dad is trying so that's something."

"I just wonder exactly what their endgame is," Xiaotian spoke up, gathering their waste together to dispose of it. "They know, they don't seem angry... they're not exactly being subtle in them apparently being ok with us being friends-wait..." He turned to Red Son with a raised eyebrow. "Does your mom know too?"

Red's hair flared immediately and died out just as fast as a look of confusion dawned on his face. "I have no idea and I don't know which is worse, her not knowing or her knowing and not telling a soul... because if she knows she's never going to let any of us live down the fact she was able to hide it better than we did."

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

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KW 2021: Height Difference

Day 1 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Height Difference!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 1: Height Difference. It’s his 14th birthday and Aang is feeling frustrated. Katara wants to help and Aang confides in her about some of his insecurities.

Word Count: 2.2K

After a long day of festivities, night had finally fallen across the Fire Nation palace, and Aang and Katara were ready to head to bed and get some well-earned rest.

The couple had just finished up at the banquet and silently walked through the dimly lit halls to Aang’s room so as to not alert Katara’s overprotective brother. Though they had merely been cuddling the last few nights before sleeping, Sokka would surely throw a fit if he knew that they were sharing a room at all, hence a bit of secrecy was needed.

At last, they arrived- the third door on the right in the central wing of the palace had been designated the Avatar’s quarters since as early as Kyoshi’s time. It was a fair distance away from the rest of the bedrooms in the west wing, and it also had far more extravagant commodities with its own mini-courtyard and balcony, giving the pair plenty of space to get away from the rest of the world and simply enjoy being with each other.

“Today was fun,” Katara sighed as they finally entered the room, taking off her shoes at the entrance and immediately going towards the inviting bed.

She let herself fall onto the soft mattress, groaning softly as her limbs were finally able to relax after a long day of dancing, cooking, and celebrating for the airbender’s 14th birthday, while Aang gently closed the door with a soft thump.

“Yeah,” Aang chuckled as he joined her on the bed. He pulled some of the thin cotton sheets over them and then curled up next to her on his side.“It sure was... something.”

The waterbender shifted slightly to allow her boyfriend to rest his head in the crook of her neck and absentmindedly traced the outline of the blue arrow on his head while he closed his eyes in contentment.

“Something?” she questioned. Katara furrowed her eyebrows, her movements faltering. “Did you not have fun, Aang?”

The airbender winced when he heard the twinge of hurt in Katara’s voice. She hadn’t been trying to make it sound that way, but she had been planning the event for weeks and naturally was a little offended by the implication of his words.

“Oh. No, sweetie, I didn’t mean it that way. The party was amazing! The food, the drinks, the music, everything was spectacular. You did an amazing job, and it means a lot to me that you care so much.”

Katara let out a quiet breath of relief, resuming her gentle touches to his tattoos.

“Of course I care, sweetie. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you. That’s why if you didn’t like it, I won’t be mad, really.”

Aang tilted his head up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “That wasn’t it, I promise. I just… I had a bit on my mind today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him tenderly.

He sighed and buried his face in her neck. “I guess... it would be nice to get it off my chest. It’s not like anyone else would get it anyways.”

The waterbender gave him a curious look, silently encouraging him to continue.

“It’s so stupid, but I heard some nobles talking when I stepped away to get us some water. They just kept going on and on about how much of a child I was and how I’m too young and too scrawny and too short for you, and, well, they’re right!”

He turned his body away from her now frowning face and pulled the blankets snug around his body like a protective cocoon.

“You’re almost 16, Tara,” Aang murmured. “A young woman in every sense of the word. Spirits, you’re of marrying age in a month! Me? I’m just a loser kid you found washed up in an iceberg. How could I ever be deserving of you?”

“Oh, Aang…”

She shifted onto her side as well and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and listening to the rhythm of his breathing.

“Those nobles are utterly ridiculous. First of all, it’s only two years! What difference does two years make in the long run? It doesn’t, that’s what. My parents were four years apart and were the happiest two people in the world! A gap of two years is insignificant,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Second of all, sure we’re young, but considering that we saved the world even younger, I think it’s safe to say we’ve matured beyond our years. We’re certainly old enough to know we love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“Doesn’t change the other part though,” Aang muttered in response. “Spirits, I’m 14 and barely the same height as you. A little shorter if we’re being honest. It’s so annoying! Why can’t I just grow up already?”

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean for this to come off the wrong way, but why do you care about that? What difference does it make?”

The airbender remained silent for a few moments and pondered her question, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“The monks had always taught me to judge people based on the content of their character, not their exterior, and to draw satisfaction from being self-assured, rather than care about what other people thought. And in most cases I feel like I do that pretty well, but…”

“But?”

A subtle pink tinted Aang’s cheeks and he took her hands in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“You’re different, Katara. You’re the one I love more than anything, the one I would do anything for, the one whose opinions, thoughts, and feelings mean the world to me. You’re the most amazing person on the planet, and you deserve someone worthy of you. Look at Haru and Jet! They were both older and taller and so even something as small as noticing the height difference when we’re dancing kinda hurts. It just feels like I’m the odd one out. I know that’s silly but-”

The waterbender cut him off and shook her head.

“It’s not silly, Aang. Believe me, I’ve felt the same way more times than I’d care to admit. But, in the end, none of that matters. I love you. I chose you . You’re not just my boyfriend, you’re my best friend."

He turned back around to face her and swept her up in an embrace, mind immediately put at ease by her words.

“Plus,” she continued, “So what if you’re a little shorter than me now? You’ll grow in no time. Quite frankly, I’ll miss being taller than you when you do.”

The airbender quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll miss it?”

Katara chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead, right at the tip of his arrow.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I will. Being able to do that, not having to look up or go on my toes trying to kiss you, I won’t be able to do all that forever. Things like kisses, hugs, they’re a lot more… accessible with our current heights.”

“Hmm,” Aang hummed. “I guess I never really thought of it like that. I still want to grow taller of course, but when you put it like that, I might miss this a little bit too.”

“Let’s not get too carried away with the future, okay?” Katara laughed. “We have our whole lives ahead of us, let’s just stay in the present- the present where I love you, and you love me, and nothing else matters.”

The airbender grinned with her, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“I like the sound of that. Thank you, sweetie. For listening, for the reassurance, just everything. It means a lot.”

“Of course, sweetie. I’m always here.”

Katara pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as Aang returned it, pulling her closer to him. They broke apart after a few seconds and grinned like idiots at one another. There was silence, but it was comfortable. The two didn’t need words, they were just enjoying being with each other.

“It’s getting late,” the waterbender murmured after some time. “We should probably go to bed.”

“Probably,” Aang whispered back, unable to take his eyes off the angel in front of him. With a flick of his wrist, he put out the candles that had been lighting up the room and settled into his pillow as Katara drew closer to him and interlocked their fingers.

“Good night, Aang. Love you,” she said, beginning to drift off to the dream realm.

“Love you too, Tara,” the airbender yawned. “Sweet dreams.”

One year later…

“Happy birthday!” the room chorused as Aang blew out all his 15 candles.

The airbender grinned and began to cut the apple cake- an ancient recipe of the Air Nomads recreated by some of the top chefs in the Fire Nation as a gift from Zuko.

“Thanks guys!” Aang laughed. “Man, it’s crazy to think that the war has been over for a little more than two years now.”

Katara smiled and leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“We’ve all done a lot of growing up. We’re older, more mature-” she gave Aang a quick look from head to toe. “ Taller .”

He chuckled, pulling her close to him and peppering kisses all over the top of her head. She was right, of course- as if triggered by their conversation that night, Aang had grown rapidly over the next year. A month later he was the same height as her, two months following he was comfortably able to rest his arm on her shoulder, and now, a year later, he towered above her with her eyebrows barely at his chin.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “Give it a rest you two. The oogies are out of control! Spirits, you act like a newly wedded couple still in the honeymoon stage half the time.”

“Oh, leave them alone, Sokka,” Suki chided. “It’s his birthday! Let’s give the lovebirds some alone time. They’re just kids, they’re nowhere near that yet.”

“Yeah, haha, absolutely not,” Aang nervously laughed as the other couple exited the room. The stone pendant in his pocket began to feel like poisonous lead weighing down his vision for the hopefully not-so-distant future.

“You never know,” the airbender heard Katara mumble, so quiet he wasn’t even sure she had actually said it. “Sometimes things will come when you least expect it.”

He stood there blankly for a moment, brain struggling to process her words and had just opened his mouth to ask her what she meant (she couldn’t possibly be talking about what he thought she was… right?) when she decided to speak up instead.

“I can’t believe you were ever nervous about staying short, sweetie,” Katara quipped, her eyebrows raised teasingly.

Aang merely blinked at the subject change, promptly concluding that the last thirty seconds were simply a figment of his imagination, and sheepishly scratched the back of his head in response to her comment.

“I guess it was kinda silly, huh,” he laughed. “Look at us now.”

The waterbender pouted, going up on the balls of her feet and craning her neck to gaze up at him. “You’re too tall for your own good. I miss when you were shorter and I didn’t have to tilt my head every time just to look at you.”

“Oh c’mon, it has its benefits.”

He gave her a quick look to warn her for what he was about to do, and with one swift motion, Katara was suddenly off the ground and in Aang’s arms bridal-style, her arms around his neck and their gazes interlocked.

The airbender touched their foreheads together and gave her a cheesy grin.

“I couldn’t do this before, now could I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

“No,” Katara smiled, her head tilted as she looked at him endearingly, “I suppose you couldn’t. And I certainly won’t be one to complain about you holding me more often.”

Aang laughed and carefully set her back down, hearing the growing volume of the room next to them. He quickly grabbed the two full glasses on the table and handed one to the waterbender.

“Here’s to hoping you’re the one who grows by next year so my neck isn’t always sore from looking down at you,” he said as he held his drink up.

Katara gave him a dry stare before rolling her eyes and smiling.

“Cheers.”

The two clinked their glasses and turned to face the door behind which the rest of their friends had already begun to celebrate.

“Shall we?” Aang asked as he held out his arm to her.

“We shall,” Katara responded, accepting it. “Happy birthday, Aang.”

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataang #kataangtag #aang x katara

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thecasperanfamily · 3 years

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You mentioned AGES ago that the Casperans have been to Machu Pichu. I'm sorry but now I need a ficlet.

Good gracious, I have had 6 new fic requests in under a week, which is kind of mind-boggling. Thank you all so much for supporting me and my silly little ideas. 💕 I'll try to get to as many of them as I can, but I feel I should remind you guys that I tend to be very slow and thorough with my writing, so if it takes a while for your request to be filled, don't worry, I haven't trashed it! (There are a couple that have been in my inbox for a long time now because I reeeeeally want to set them after the Big Fic).

ANYWAYS this one was actually super fun for me, as I got to do a bit of research for it. I hope you enjoy. ✨

Lin is about 15 in this one.

~~~~~

“Is this legal?” Douxie asked. “I feel like this might be illegal.”

“Oh it almost definitely is,” Zoe replied, holding out a hand to pull him up a particularly steep and weathered terrace wall.

“Maybe my next project should be to petition for internationally recognized Master Wizard licenses,” Douxie said breathlessly. “Get around those pesky tourist restrictions without incriminating ourselves in the process.” There was a rustle of leathery wings above them, and Archie swooped down beside them, his wide, luminous eyes the only easily distinguishable part of him in the dark.

“Douxie, you have been pressed with so many criminal charges that at this point, I sincerely doubt the government would approve a license for you even if you could get them to make such a thing,” the Familiar observed.

“Right, of course,” Douxie panted, bracing his hands on his knees. “...Gods I can’t believe people used to live at this altitude...How close are we, Arch?”

“Not much farther now. The Intihuatana is just a few dozen yards above us. Doesn’t look like the mortals have done much to secure it. I can’t sense any strong magical anomalies either, but it might be wise for you to record a proper energy reading regardless. Nari’s already there waiting for you.”

“Of course she is,” Douxie wheezed, pulling himself up the next terrace alongside Zoe. “She could scale Everest and it wouldn’t so much as wind her. Lost sight of Lin a little while ago as well...I assume he’s with her?”

“...You let Lin out of your sight?” Archie said, instead of answering. Douxie froze halfway up the next wall.

“...He is with Nari, right?” Archie nervously licked his nose. “Archie.”

“We thought he was with you two!” the Familiar blurted. “It’s not like you told us we were on babysitting duty on top of scouting duty!”

“Archie!” Douxie and Zoe shouted.

“Shh! Remember, we’re not supposed to be here at all, so keep your voices down.”

“DON’T TELL ME TO BE QUIET WHEN MY SON IS WANDERING UNSUPERVISED IN A FIELD OF ANCIENT COSMIC ENERGIES!” Zoe exploded. “HE COULD BE EATEN BY A JAGUAR OR POSSESSED BY A MALEVOLENT SPIRIT!”

“There are no jaguars up here, Zoe,” Archie assured her. “As for malevolent spirits, Nari says the spiritual energy around the site is very intense, but not malevolent. Nothing in this area means that boy any harm.”

“...Barring the lack of oxygen,” Douxie grumbled, hauling himself up onto the next terrace and reaching down to pull Zoe up with him. “Honestly I’m more worried about Lin causing damage than being on the receiving end of it. Arch, you’d better send Nari to find him. Zoe and I will meet you at the stone. Assuming I survive the climb, that is. ...Don’t look at me like that, darling, I was joking.”

*****

For once, Lin’s inhibitor cuff wasn’t glowing.

He ran his hand across a dry-stone brick, fingers drifting lightly over the rough surface. Moss brushed softly against his palm as he walked alongside the ancient wall. There was a deep stillness in the air, something that went beyond mere silence. The stars shone brighter here than anywhere else Lin had seen. It stirred something deep in his chest, something he couldn’t recognize, yet his usually volatile magic remained quiet.

He felt Nari’s presence before she spoke, her gentle, vibrant aura brushing against his.

“Linny? Are you alright?” she whispered, falling into stride next to him as he continued down the length of the ruin.

“...I don’t know,” he murmured, feeling oddly calm in spite of his own uncertainty. “This place....it’s so still. But it doesn’t feel empty.” He looked down at his aunt, hoping she would have the answer to his unspoken question.

“So what does it feel like?” she prodded.

“It...There’s magic here, I can feel it,” he replied, pausing at the end of the wall and staring out at the ancient houses that surrounded them. “Deep magic. Older than Dad, older than Uncle Charlemagne, even. But it’s not....It’s not moving the way their magic does. It’s not dead, it’s just...dormant. And beneath all of that, I keep feeling these...dark streaks. Like shadows. But it’s not shadow magic, it’s something else.” He looked back at Nari. “...People lived here. And they....they were killed here, too.”

“Yes,” she answered softly. “The people of this land were deeply aware of the magic of the universe beyond this planet. They observed the stirrings of the cosmos, and from it, drew a rich mythology and culture. Their lives were structured around the movement of the stars and the cycles of nature. However, death is an inevitable part of that cycle. The Incans believed that for the cycle of nature to be upheld, lives had to be sacrificed. Sometimes even human ones.”

“...That’s why I feel those dark patches?”

“Yes. Sorrow has a way of marking the place where it occurred.”

“It’s....It’s horrible. To think that people had to live like that. Had to do those things,” Lin breathed.

“Humanity still commits similar atrocities with far less noble intentions. But the blood that was shed here has since returned to the earth, and the spirits of those who died here have moved on. This is a place of stillness now, where ancient magic lies undisturbed by the careful mortals who visit. And as you can see, death is not the only thing that marked this place.” Her gaze drifted fondly across the starlit terraces, watched over by the ancient stone dwellings. “Through both good and evil, people lived here. They experienced laughter and joy, and left this place as a reminder that they too were human. That they were a part of mortal history.” She sighed and held out a hand to Lin. “...We must return to your parents now. They were quite upset to discover you had wandered off.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lin mumbled, taking the offered hand. “I just...”

“I understand,” Nari whispered. “This magic speaks to me as well. It is the kind that is most keenly felt by those in possession of truly ancient powers.”

Lin’s inhibitor cuff flickered with dark blue light for a moment, before going dark once again.

Thanks so much for reading! ✨

#tales of arcadia #toa #the casperan family #douxie #toa zoe #toa archie #toa nari #lin casperan #niki answers #ficlet

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dumbdotcomm · 4 years

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a little luck and some frogs

(a/n) the iconic @pricklydapper drew this amazing piece for me of Mikey and Raph and I just had to write a angst/fluff one-shot for it!!!

There’s a still and a quiet that comes with rain, gentle and slow and lulling. They haven’t had quiet in so long, it seems; it feels like days blend into one another, new paths unlocked in their destinies or whatever.

Sometimes Raph would just like to stop. Go back to being that 15 year old kid living below Queens, having nothing but his tight knit family and a lair game tournament to worry about.

They’ve been firing on all cylinders for days, and god he’s just tired, overstimulated and definitely in need of, like, a detox or something- Leo and April go on about those kinds of things. Maybe he’ll give that a try.

But even as the days pass, long long after they’ve settled back into home and dealing with low-level crime, Raph still can’t really relax. Not in the way that lasts. He’s always looking, anticipating the moment their relative peace will elude them, and the next thing he’ll know is they’ll be miles high, falling from a building, pushing and pushing to catch one another- or at the docks watching his brother get torn apart.

Raph feels like he’s gonna hurl and he does, nothing but last night’s dinner and severe anxiety spilling out from him.

It’s gross and embarrassing and Raph knows it’s nothing he can control; the little helpful part of his brain is reassuring that way. But it was easier to feel so panicky when everyone else was still reeling from the fight.

Leo’s got his detoxing with April, Mikey’s gone off and found Draxum to rehabilitate for god knows what reason, and Donnie’s regulated his sleeping cycle again and he’s gone back to shittalking and watching gophers on Youtube so- he’s okay.

Everyone’s okay…. except for Raph.

But maybe what Raph doesn’t know is that the somewhat okay thing about it, the silver-ish lining in all of it is- even if he’s feeling alone… he’s not. He never is. And Raph has always hated his panic-stink but maybe it’s doing him some good, because he brothers are attentive, and Mikey’s especially perceptive.

It’s why, on this languid, rainy ass day, Mikey barges into Raph’s room with a shopping bag from Old Navy. How he got to, and inside, and outside of Old Navy, Raph doesn’t really have to wonder (humans were so funny in ignoring obvious things, it made raph wonder why mutants stayed hidden anyway).

But Mikey’s got a grin that stretches a mile wide and is pretty contagious, as he struts into the room after having stood in the entrance in that weird ‘younger sibling is now here to bother you’ stance.

“Whaaat are we doing…?” Raph asks cautiously, but can’t hide his own growing smile the longer Mikey beams.

He says ‘we’ because there’s always a ‘we’ in these types of situations, and he’d rather just include himself now off the bat.

“Glad’ja asked,” Mikey says, and dumps the Old Navy bag out of Raph’s bed, “Behold….the best freakin’ things ever.”

And woah- they kinda are the best freaking things ever. Practically see-through jackets with-

“No way! Mikey!” Raph clutches his- he already knows it’s his by the size, extra huge and all, “Bro this-? Is pretty sick. How’d you even get it this big?!”

The thing about them and clothes is: Leo, Donnie and Mikey are all, at least, human people sizes. It’s easy for them to snag just about anything, even some of April’s old stuff fits them. Hell, Leo could fit into Dad’s old suit. And that luxury was kinda foreign to Raph.

Humans barely even made enough fashionable clothes for all of their people- and Raph was kind of outside of that caliber.

He’s kinda getting teary eyed, but, like, who wouldn’t, and Mikey’s already slipping into his own coat, see-through and speckled with little oranges.

“Eh, it’s no biggie,” he sniffs, shrugging the jacket on the rest of the way (it’s totally a biggie), “I kinda...customized ‘em. They were havin’ this special, and I thought ‘screw it baby, we need raincoats’!”

And, careful of his strength, Raph goes for a hug that he knows Mikey was anticipating anyway, with the force that he hugs back and all. Raph doesn’t really need to say anything, but his warbly thank you to Mikey is just a fraction of the depth of emotion he feels now.

It’s funny, silly maybe, because this doesn’t erase the threat of a bigger fight, a worse enemy lurking in the shadows to trip them up- it’s just a custom made see-through raincoat with Raph’s favorite fruit, adorable little strawberries, on it.

And yet he feels indescribably lighter than he’s felt in weeks.

“I figured we could do some adventuring, and I gotta cooks tonight so…”

Mikey wriggles his brow ridge, and Raph can’t help but, like, wanna combust from this surge of excitement and normalcy that he hasn’t felt in too long.

“Trip to Katagiri, hell yes!”

/////

The nice thing about rain in the city is, even though traffic is all the same, and people are still moving around, the sky gets dark enough from the clouds that the lights kinda shine prematurely. The streetlamps come on with a dim, orangey light, and with the autumn leaves mixed with green ones still clinging on, it was just so peaceful.

No one, again, seems to care that two turtles are walking down Lexington, and one couple briskly compliments their jackets and so that’s a plus.

Mikey compliments the one girl’s hair, shaved with hearts dyed into her scalp, and Raph can only appreciate that his brother is so well-spoken- that he just is so natural and confident out here.

That he doesn’t worry.

Raph remembers his first time topside, and how his fear led him into the state of consciousness that he hates to be in- where he’s on all instinct and fear and nothing else.

It’s gotten better since then, but the unease still lingers all these years. Raph wonders if he’ll get rid of it all the way.

Donnie realistically told him he might not, but that all he has to do is count to ten and back again, look around, find something to focus on- something ordinary or something great, and cling to it till he can convince his body and mind that he’s safe- that things will return to normal in a sec.

And right now, Raph keeps his eyes locked on his brother’s feet, as they pound the sidewalk, making little splashes in rain water.

As he’s watching, a frog of all things, just hops along the sidewalk, right at Raph’s feet. It makes him halt, because....maybe it’s coincidental or maybe Raph’s reading too into it, but Mikey turns around too, sees the frog that Raph stoops beside, and smiles in soft understanding.

It’s an omen of some sorts, Dad always said so. Of good luck, and of things returning.

Raph breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

Just as quickly as the frog comes, it hops away, and Raph stands, still a bit speechless, still kinda processing the meaning behind what just happened, desperately wanting to cling to it meaning good fortune.

He doesn’t wanna worry his brother though, and so he thinks of something to joke or talk about as they start to walk again, only for Mikey to beat him to it.

“I never told you thanks,” he says, gently, like he’s been reading Raph’s aura. Maybe he has.

And somehow Raph already knows what he’s thanking him for, but decides within himself that Mikey really, really shouldn’t. He was just doing his job. He tells Mikey this breezily, with a soft smile.

“Bullshit,” Mikey snaps back, but only because he knows Raphael so well, “We’re kids- we don’t got jobs- except for Donnie occasionally….suspiciously-” he shakes off the trailing thought, “Anyway- it’s not ‘your job’. It was just a shitty...long fight and ya really held us down, Raph.”

They cross the street, momentarily separating with the influx of people but find their way back in a second, the neon ‘Gonbei’ sign now visible to them.

And it’s not that Raph is all that surprised by Mikey. He knows his brother’s always had a knack for speaking in a way that just...made so much sense and was so profound without any complexity. But maybe it’s his brother being 14 now, that makes him even wiser.

“I know we don’t got jobs,” Raph concedes, as they pass the Lexington Flowers shop, “But, you know, I’m big...bigger than you guys, an’ I might not be as smart but when it comes to protecting, an’ planning….it’s what a leader’s s’posed ta do, y’know?”

They don’t often talk about the leadership thing- not that it’s touchy, it’s just not really relevant with how they function. But Mikey knows Raph’s internalized the role a bit more recently. And that Leo getting dropped from a building may have been the catalyst.

He knows his brother’s technically got a job to do. Mikey resents that, and their Dad a little bit, for not making Raph ready for all of what happened weeks ago.

Though he knows that’s not all fair. His father was only protecting them.

Still….it sucks.

“Well, if it means anything, I think you’re smart. And ‘m not sure if I can promise this, but I’m gonna do it anyway...” Mikey says, stopping in his tracks and turning to Raph, who also stops walking and gets called a ‘fuckin asshat’ for blocking a chunk of the sidewalk but- hey.

Mikey politely tells the guy to go fuck himself and when the guy turns to get a good enough look- not at Raph’s size, but at his little gremlin brother with a chain that’s starting to flame up- he decides this whole situation is not something he wants any parts of.

Mikey rolls his eyes and turns back to Raph, face all sincere and kind for someone who just...did that, “I promise we’re okay, and we’re always gonna be stuck together, Raph. I know that won’t magically make you feel better but...just thought I’d say it.”

And Raph tries to say something, but has to clear his throat, and it’s definitely the rain on his cheeks and beak.

“No,” he croaks, and laughs at his voice, happy that Mikey laughs too, “Nah, it- it really helps a lot Mikey….thank you- thanks, man.”

Satisfied, Mikey turns to keep on walking, patting Raph’s shell, “Anytime bud.”

////

Katagiri’s never disappoints. Mikey leaves with milk tea, shrimp tempura and shiso, more milk tea and a couple boxes of mochi ice. It’s one of those days.

He swings his groceries as they walk.

Raph doesn’t wonder about the frog and its meaning, and doesn’t doubt its luck and why it appeared to him.

He’s kinda figured it out. Because he still has moments like this, watching his brother merrily skip a few steps ahead of him, chatting breezily about pineapple upside down pancakes- and Mikey made a promise, after all, that they’re gonna be together, no matter what.

If that’s not lucky, being with his family, leaning on them when it counts, then Raph’s got no clue what is.

#rise of the tmnt #michelangelo #raphael #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph

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magicalforcesau · 3 years

Text

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 18 - Year 2: February

(ao3 link)

In lieu of the incident with the sleeping draught, all prefects were mandated to enroll in Professor Palpatine’s brand new weekly Potions seminars. As the misstep with the Vitamix potion along with Maul’s nearing presence showed, it was ideal that all prefects be properly trained in the event that professors were once again subdued. This, they felt, combined with Professor Fisto’s ongoing dueling club, would prepare them.

Obi-Wan’s doubts of how prepared they could possibly be for something so unpredictable grew stronger with each day. Although he was already enrolled in the advanced potions class, he would never deny the opportunity to learn more. If anything, it would at least offer more practice.

“Given that it’s February, I figured it best we start with a common favorite amongst the masses of troublemakers,” Palpatine’s shoes clicked on the ground as he paced at the front of the room.

From what Obi-Wan understood, Palpatine didn’t receive any punishment for the accidental sleeping potion brew. Yoda had, of course, received a rather scathing howler from the Ministry at his supposed flightiness, of which he took the blame for. It seemed Anakin had stepped up and claimed it was he who accidentally knocked the draught in the already brewing potion.

That all certainly added up and did not help Anakin’s reputation amongst his peers.

“Any guesses to what that would be?” Palpatine asked, eagerly taking in the small crowd of Hogwarts’ best with expectant eyes.

Because this was a class full of prefects, each were considerably decent students and wanted to learn. There were exceptions, Obi-Wan realized as he looked over to a nearly snoozing Zeb, but they were outliers.

“Love potions?” Breha Organa said rather dreamily. Obi-Wan didn’t need to turn around to know she’d been looking at Bail as she said it.

“Right you are, Breha!” Palpatine smiled, “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world, at that. Many of you and your students are for the first time diving into the wondrous and mysterious landscape that is romance. Some of you aren’t even aware that you are.”

Did he look at Obi-Wan on purpose? No, that would be silly. Palpatine always took care to rove eye contact throughout the classroom. It was a sufficient method of maintaining focus and Obi-Wan knew this, but he still shifted his gaze immediately elsewhere like he’d been caught copying homework.

“Love and potions aren’t all that different, really.” He continued, “The right and organic combination makes a fruitful and prosperous brew. The wrong and inauthentic combination is bitter and not made to last.”

“And if you’re not careful, you could end up with a wrinkly, scrawny little creature.” Zeb added knowingly, earning a few chuckles throughout the group.

“As if you’ve got anything to worry about there.” Caleb muttered, and much to Zeb’s dismay, acquired a more popular response.

“Boys, please.” Palpatine chastised, “I don’t want word to travel that Gryffindor’s prefects lost them points.”

“Cody would have an aneurysm,” Satine whispered and Obi-Wan only nodded in response. It was no secret to either of them that their friend was less than pleased with how bleak Gryffindor’s odds of obtaining either the House or Quidditch cup were becoming. If he heard that Caleb and Zeb worsened those odds, neither would be awaiting a very pretty conversation.

The troublesome two seemed to recognize this and justly shut their traps.

The class turned back to Palpatine, who seemed rather satisfied with the change in their mood and circled around the cauldron at the center of his desk. From it, emerged a pink fog that resembled a cloud at sunset and judging by the smile its scent drew from Palpatine, it smelled as pleasant as it looked.

“A love potion manufactures the deepest desires from the person who ingests it, manifesting them all at once in an intoxicating fashion that causes them to see the intended target in a different light.” He said almost reverently, “Ironically, it’s called a love potion, when it should really be called an infatuation potion.”

“That’s because you can’t build love from a substance.” Satine muttered from beside him. “Try as some might.”

Obi-Wan stared at the cauldron. He’d heard of amortentia. Evidently, a cheap ineffective version was sold at Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, though he never took much care to notice. He didn’t know much about love, save for the fact that it seemed highly unlikely for anything to recreate something as complicated as attraction.

She raised her hand, “Professor? Aren’t love potions banned at Hogwarts?”

“That they are,” Palpatine said with crossed hands, “Though that’s not to say they haven’t been smuggled in before.”

“Why would they do that?” A familiar high pitched voice from the back called.

Despite his interest in the subject, Obi-Wan couldn’t resist snapping his neck in turning to see none other than Anakin Skywalker sitting at the back desk, looking incredibly small in stature next to Onaconda Farr. Farr, in his defense, looked just as confused by Anakin’s presence as Obi-Wan felt.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked him, “This is supposed to be for prefects only.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Kenobi, I did grant Anakin permission to attend.” Palpatine answered before Anakin could muster up a smart response, “Anakin shows a real knack for potions and given the circumstances, I would say it’s best that he be included whenever he could be protected.”

Obi-Wan slumped back in his chair, feeling properly admonished. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Anakin was capable. It was quite the opposite, actually, but there was an order to these things and learning advanced spells before one was ready did not seem indicative of a sound idea. Anakin needed to learn the building blocks still, whether he believed it or not. Despite his talent, he knew there was an absence of maturity to handle heavy source material. Dueling was one thing, as there was an obvious precedence for it right now and it was typically taught to some degree during second year anyway. Teaching Anakin about love potions felt more like giving a dog a steak and telling him not to eat it. He could try to convince everyone that he was over his crush on Padmé all he wanted, but it simply wasn’t true.

“To answer your question, Anakin,” Palpatine continued, “When someone is too blind with desperation to see reason, they will do just about anything to acquire what they want. A love potion, while sounding frilly and fun, occludes all rational thinking from the person it's given to.”

“And typically, it’s not ingested voluntarily.” Satine added.

Obi-Wan frowned, thinking of the potentially dastardly effects such a tool could provide for a desperately lovesick person. It was no different than being under a curse, in a sense, because the poor sap trapped in such a state had no agency whatsoever.

“How does one tell if someone is suffering from the effects of a love potion?” Fenn Rau asked.

“Why, you see them every day in young and happy couples as you walk through these halls. They’re starry-eyed, flushed, unspeakably happy, practically in a trance.”

“How are we to tell the difference then?” Obi-Wan asked.

“These features tend to be a good deal more exemplified and elongated.” Palpatine said, “For instance, while the honeymoon phase is technically normal, it’s really not meant to last. There’s also known to be loss of memory in the person as the potion begins to fade. We advise that you all keep an eye and see if you notice any excessively clingy and almost controlling couples.”

Obi-Wan thought about his parents, finding it very hard to believe they ever had any semblance of a honeymoon phase. They were so professional all the time that he’d rarely seen them even smile in the other’s presence. Of course, he was always splitting up sneaky couples that tried to sneak off to snog, so he supposed he did have some experience witnessing what Palpatine was referring to. Part of him was having a difficult time reconciling with the fact that it was their ancient potions professor who was explaining to them the complexities of romance.

“Because of the dangers that this possesses,” He waved a little pink vial around for all to show, allowing the light to catch it in a way that made it sparkle, “I believe it’s important that you understand these properties quite well and that you take care not to share this information outside of this room.”

There was a warning tone to his voice that was rarely used and Obi-Wan swore everyone sat up even straighter, though he doubted that was possible for Satine, who already appeared quite alert.

“It’s okay to take notes, of course, right?” Hondo asked from the other back corner of the room opposite to Anakin.

“Yes, but-” The older man did a double take as he whipped back around, “Hondo, what are you doing here?”

Obi-Wan thought it was fairly obvious what Hondo was doing and why he was suddenly so apt to take notes. He hadn’t thought to say anything when he originally saw him, seeing as if Anakin was invited, maybe he’d thought to include another unexpected guest. Hondo was possessed for a significant amount of time, after all.”

“Just trying to perfect my recipe is all.” Hondo had the gall to shrug, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“You mean besides intruding upon a meeting where you are not welcome and admitting in advance that you intend to sell an illegal substance throughout the school?” Palpatine asked, “I suppose we could discuss your time management skills, seeing as you have plenty of potion’s homework that you could be catching up on.”

Reading the room for a change, Hondo sighed like a great disservice had just been done to him, “You can’t fault a guy for trying.”

“Actually, I can. 15 points from Slytherin.” Palpatine crossed his arms, “And I expect your essay on Felix Felicis on my desk tomorrow morning.”

“My tutor isn’t going to like that.” Hondo grumbled as he walked by Obi-Wan, “He’s not even finished my Charms presentation.”

“Why would you say that to us?” Satine hissed, knowing full well that they were now going to have to look up the legitimacy of Hondo’s new “tutor” in their dwindling free time.

“I’m honest to a fault!” He shrugged as he fully exited the room and was promptly locked out by Palpatine. He even took the effort of using two padlocks to secure the job. To be fair, Hondo was quite slippery.

“Now,” He said as he clapped his hands together once, “Why don’t we get to the important part? Brewing!”

***

This was a colossal waste of his time, skills, and resources.

While Sidious normally enjoyed when the school devolved into chaos, he did not appreciate when it stood in the way of his plans. Right now, his former apprentice was the obstacle that could feasibly destroy everything he’d worked tirelessly to achieve, all before it could truly start.

He knew he should have killed him when he had the chance, but Azkaban just seemed all the more fitting for the murder machine to waste his days away at the hand of his own failure. He would not make that mistake ever again.

So, it seemed Sidious’ own interests aligned with the rest of his colleagues: get rid of Maul. It felt peculiar- to be on the same side as the enemy, but if he wanted to defeat them, he needed this loose cannon of a pawn to be decimated before it was too late.

And through it all, the putrid “open-minded” community only served to remind him why they needed to be brought to an end. In what world would enlisting the Potions professor to teach love potions be useful? How he managed to seem convincing, he was unsure, because there was no greater waste of time than the frivolous pursuit of love. Well, unless it was being manipulated as a fulcrum for change.

Even with as little soul as he had remaining, if any, he still found the smell of amortentia to be utterly arousing. They certainly wouldn’t enjoy to know what he smelled when he breathed in amortentia: fire, ash, rubble, stained blood.

They should be barricading, sending students out in troves to hunt the demon down, and utilize the muggle-borns as bait in a trap to be sprung. Maul couldn’t resist the hunt. He knew such instincts never changed, not even from the waning sense of purpose that Azkaban reduced men to.

Instead, here he was, giving a pointless lecture on the dangers of love potions. After which, they’ll have another practice dueling session with snowballs. It was pitiful. At the very least, they should be using stones. Children needed to learn pain at an early age. They needed to become so familiar with the sensation that they found home in it. In the hearth of that home, is the power that exists from within. Only then, can they prevail.

He glanced to the back corner of the room and felt his lips twitch. Between this year and the last, Skywalker was becoming quite acquainted with pain. He grimaced as he took in the rest of the lot, noting how soft they all were as they nervously discovered what attracted them when they leaned over their brewing cauldrons. At least he’d been able to kick that waste of blood Ohnaka out. He was spared of that particular headache, especially when just looking at the boy angered him to no end when he considered how deeply that botched experiment failed. Truly, that family couldn’t do anything right- not even when under hypnosis.

He had no doubts that Maul was scoping out the land, realizing just how weak these wizards had gotten since he was in school- that his lessons from Sidious had always reigned supreme and that no one stood in his way, save for Yoda and Sidious, himself. That would be disastrous if anyone witnessed a reunion between the two. They would know instantly.

Then again, if Sidious were to capture and kill Maul, he would only further his popularity amongst the simpletons that allegedly “ran” their community. Perhaps, there could be salvaging of this wreck. Tyranus need not be the only one to pull strings in the wake of Maul’s drama. It was only fitting, since Sidious was the marionettist and this was to be his show.

Not only that, but such a feat would certainly impress the boy, who clearly had a sound reason for disliking Maul. While Sidious loathed the concept of needing to work towards the trust and approval of a child, understood that in due time, it would be worth it.

Even if such a boy nearly killed them all with his own klutziness.

Sidious breathed a steadying breath, just barely turned away from any possible lingering gazes.

He moved over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He needed a drink.

***

Satine, like many of the curious girls in her year, had done fair research on the subject of amortentia. Apparently, it had ruined its fair share of marriages as well as mental health states, making it completely illegal to produce for private or public subsidization. It seemed, curiously, only the aurors could do so with Ministry approval. That, much to Satine’s confusion, was the case for many subjects.

“Because I would hate to have a bunch of little zombies in my class, we’ll just be smelling the potions today.” Palpatine announced.

Despite her knowledge that amortentia affected everyone differently, she still wasn’t quite expecting the drunk-like sensation that filled her up from head to toe as she took a deep breath in from the fumes that emanated off the surface. Everything around her seemed to move in slow motion and her chest rose and fell with the relaxed notion of falling asleep, except she simultaneously never felt more stimulated in her life.

She’d never known that you could smell so many wonderful things at once yet still differentiate them for what they were and more importantly, how it got her flushed in a way that made her shift in her seat.

New books, homemade apple pie, crisp fall air, the lingering remnants of a minty aftershave wrapping around her like a scarf…

She started out of her reverie, blushing too mad to even consider looking to her left no matter how curious she suddenly was. Her heart was beating out of her chest and if she wasn’t absolutely certain of the potency of amortentia, she’d have the decency to be more embarrassed. Instead, she willed herself to calm down and refused to breathe through her nose any further, no matter how warm she felt when she had.

While none of what she witnessed was news to her per say, it wasn’t like she made a habit of lollygagging and daydreaming in the middle of a classroom setting. It was quite disarming to be so vulnerable yet also so close to what (or who, for that matter) was driving her crazy to begin with.

“Problem, Mr. Kenobi?” Palpatine was suddenly standing in front of them, which was at least a little bit of a distraction.

A ringing in her brain wanted desperately to ask him what he smelled, but she felt herself frown deeply when she noticed Obi-Wan was leaning with his entire face in his little cauldron, trying desperately to catch a whiff. Surely, if he got any closer, he was going to accidentally inhale the potion through his nose.

“I might have brewed it incorrectly.” He muttered, echoing a bit from still having his head in the cauldron.

“Let me see,” Palpatine urged him to lift his head and under normal circumstances, Satine might tease him for the little creases that the rim brought to his face.

The professor raised his nose to the fumes that still wafted through the air and smiled dreamily. She wondered if they would ever know what he was seeing when he inhaled the scent. It was none of their business to ask, but she really couldn’t picture Palpatine being in love with anyone.

“No, no, it’s perfectly correct,” He said with the airs of residual glee, “Why?”

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Obi-Wan turned to Satine, “I think I need you to move.”

Any previous concern, as per usual with Obi-Wan, was replaced with a scalding sort of annoyance only reserved for him, “What? Why?”

As she held her own special adverse reaction to him, he had one for her that matched. His eyebrows furrowed as he gestured to his cauldron. Sometimes, he was far too serious for his own good, “As lovely as your perfume is, you don’t need to go so heavy-handed with it! I can’t smell the potion.”

Satine, who initially believed they were going to get into an argument, found that she had no points to be made, because all that came out of her mouth was a little puff of air. Palpatine, if she had the eyes to spare him a look, was equally as surprised, even if not nearly as emotionally invested in such a rebuff.

“What?” Obi-Wan finally asked, growing more annoyed at not being in on the punchline.

Everyone else was suspiciously quiet too, much to Satine’s growing unease, but she could hardly spare a thought other than to say, “I’m out of perfume, actually. I sent Copikla home yesterday so my mum could send me a new bottle.”

Instead of being annoyed, the clouds seemed to clear, if only a little bit, and he flickered back to the potion, “But how-”

“-It smells different to everyone.” Palpatine, who looked between the two of them with his face stretched in discomfort and eyebrows raised beyond physics, clarified with a tone that was clearly meant for only them, “Based on what the individual finds attractive.”

All of the color seemed to wash out of Obi-Wan’s charmingly embarrassed face as his mind worked rapidly to wrap his head around that answer. Even though she hadn’t breathed in her potion again, Satine still swore she was suddenly feeling the effects of it.

“I- Well,” He tried to formulate a response, but to his credit, he had just admitted that he was at the very least attracted to her perfume (which she made the mental note to stock up on more frequently), in front of the entire class of prefects and Anakin.

“Oooooooh Obi-Wan likes perfume.” Anakin, while completely missing the point and a big teasing opportunity, shattered the tension that previously froze the entire room and everyone burst out into a fit of needed laughter. Even Obi-Wan laughed, though nervously, as he flashed Satine the occasional glance here and there through lowered lashes, as if trying to gage her reaction to this accidental admission.

She smiled. Clearly, it was to her benefit to read ahead of him.

“For what it’s worth,” She said in the midst of the uncontrollable chatter that erupted thanks to Anakin’s offhand comment, “You smell nice too.”

He blushed, which she found she quite liked the shade of pink on his face, “Thanks.”

It didn’t address the underlying implications, just as neither of them seized the moment to do so on Christmas Eve. She found it was just as frustrating trying to guess what was going on inside of his head as it was waiting for him to do something about the things she did know.

As much as she wanted the cat to be fully out of the bag, she knew the middle of Palpatine’s potions class wasn’t the time or place.

***

“I believe it’s a mistake to have any more Hogsmeade trips this year,” Qui-Gon said to his other heads of house and to Yoda, who was staring quite pensively out the window, “Not when we know what we know. It’s quite possible that Maul has an entrance to the school if he truly is behind what happened to Bultar Swan.”

“We have no real proof that he is, though.” Shaak Ti said, “It certainly doesn’t seem like his style.”

“While I know the usual term “innocent until proven guilty” is our mantra, I think we should consider being more hesitant with Maul.” Qui-Gon said.

“I agree,” Windu nodded, standing firmly next to him, “Though having more students out of the school would allow us a proper amount of time to sweep the school and see if he had any secret entrances.”

“We have that same opportunity at night.” Qui-Gon said.

“You know this school shifts and changes between night and day,” Palpatine said warily, “It is ever-moving and Bultar Swan was attacked in broad daylight in a common room.”

“Why are we not interviewing more Ravenclaws then?” Windu asked, “We’ve got to do something! Skywalker’s mother is missing and we all know that boy isn’t going to lay down and allow for speculation to simply rise without doing something foolish.”

“I don’t appreciate your assumptions of Anakin.” Qui-Gon said, “He’s a bright, even if impulsive boy, who is going through an unspeakable grief.”

“No one twice his age should have to endure what he’s going through,” Shaak Ti said kindly, “Let alone as young as he.”

“I’m not saying he has no reason to act out.” Windu raised his hands, “I’m merely stating that it is only a matter of time before he takes matters into his own hands.”

“That would make it easier for Maul, unfortunately,” Palpatine agreed, “Perhaps we should motion to shut off the Floo network?”

“Done that, I have.” Yoda spoke up, “Because used it, he did.”

“For what?” Qui-Gon asked eagerly.

“Unknown location, he accessed.” Yoda mused, “Unregistered through the network, it is. Talk to Dooku, I suspect.”

Palpatine frowned, “That can’t be good.”

“No, it can’t.” Windu agreed, “Can you extend your protective charms to Hogsmeade, Yoda?”

“Do that, I did, after we woke up from the sleeping incident.”

“Oh, so it’s safe then.” Shaak Ti shrugged, “The dementors haven’t detected Maul on the inside and he was last seen on Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sure this is quite exhausting for you, Headmaster.” Windu acknowledged.

It was true. Extending his powers over an entire settlement as well as the castle at all times would have drained any normal wizard to death. Yoda, as it were, was not a normal wizard. Even still, it was visible on his worn features that he was exhausted.

“Safe, the students should be,” He said instead, “But careful we will still be. Search the school we will for secret entrances while they are gone, we will.”

***

“Are they gone yet?” Anakin asked, ducking up from where he’d been digging furiously through his trunk. Rex who was sitting on the window sill keeping watch over the massive gates of Hogwarts nodded slowly.

“Yeah I think so,” He confirmed, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, “I dunno mate, don’t you think a nice Saturday in might be nicer than trying this again. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Psh!” Anakin waved a hand, “Well we’re certainly not trying anything like that again. Although I would like to get another look at that sword.”

“I figured you’d seen enough swords in your short life,” Rex rolled his eyes, “Didn’t Dooku intend to sacrifice you with one?”

“It was still cool, but I’m not really trying to go to Hogsmeade, just give off a good impression.” Anakin shrugged before he pulled out his nicest T-Shirt, swiftly pulling the one he had been wearing off and switching them out, “Well how do I look?”

“The same but in green,” Rex deadpanned leaning his head on his hand, “If all we’re doing up here is playing dress up then I’d much rather get this show on the road.”

“Oh come on,” Anakin checked himself out in the dingy mirror on the back of the door. He was really hoping he’d run into Padmé; he thought she’d like it. He’d already seen her leave, but overheard her talking to her friends about Rabé meeting them later and taking the tunnels. His mum had bought it for him over the summer and he tried to push past the rising feeling of sadness, “We had to wait until all the prefects left anyways, I’m not really looking to be caught and dragged back here by any of them and especially not Zeb, who was eyeing us up pretty hard at breakfast.”

Rex shuddered, “Definitely don’t need him tossing us through the portrait hole again. It’s not our fault that the rest of the second years left without us!”

“I’d hate to see what happens if we’re caught alone of our own accord,” Anakin grinned, despite the true statement, such a thing wouldn’t stop them, “Well, let’s go before Windu gets here to babysit.”

“Right,” Rex grimaced, standing up and grabbing his wand. Anakin grabbed his as well, throwing it into his robe, it was much too cold to go around without it, and they headed down and out of the common room. He really hoped no one would snitch on them.

The two traversed the halls carefully. Keeping quiet for once to listen for approaching footsteps and ducking into a few empty classrooms to avoid the ghosts lurking around the otherwise empty halls. It took much longer than they’d have liked to make it down to where the tunnel’s entrance would begin. Luckily, the map showed Rabé’s little figure moving in that direction too, marking a bit of a clear path. She would lead them straight to Padmé.

Anakin’s heart rate increased for more reasons than being caught.

He thought better of it. Obi-Wan would probably kill him on the spot if he slithered out of the tunnel and into Hogsmeade. Not to mention, Maul was lurking around in the area looking for him. Maybe, if they caught up with Rabé in the tunnel, he could simply give her the necklace to give to Padmé.

It didn’t sound incredibly indicative of his house in terms of bravery, but he knew at least Obi-Wan would approve of his method.

“Almost there!” Anakin grinned at Rex, but almost had his head knocked clean from his body when Rex grabbed his robe and yanked him hard into an empty classroom, “Wha-?”

“Shh!!” Rex was very much alert and his eyes narrowed as they both heard footsteps echoing off the walls. The footsteps paused just outside of the door and Rex cursed under his breath as a shadow moved towards the entrance. Rex glared at Anakin for a few minutes before mouthing, ‘You owe me!’ and straightening.

“Mr. Fett?” Palpatine’s confused voice echoed off the stone walls, “What are you doing here? And all alone?”

“Sorry Professor,” Rex gave Palpatine a rather over the top concerned look, “It’s just, I haven’t seen Anakin since breakfast and he did mention he was thinking about coming to see you.”

“To see me?” The professor sounded a little more surprised than Anakin thought he should, but perhaps he was trying to avoid looking like he picked favorites, “Well I certainly haven’t seen him. I’ll keep an eye out, but I’m going to need to escort you outside with the other second years.”

Anakin winced, of course even Palpatine wouldn’t be willing to overlook a student wandering the halls without an escort. He’d have to bring Rex back something good from Hogsmeade.

“Alright, thank you Professor,” Rex nodded, although he didn’t look very thankful in Anakin’s opinion.

Their footsteps faded away, but still Anakin waited a minute longer before darting from the classroom himself.

He wandered the empty halls, being extra careful to listen and flicker his eyes to the map. Rex was a little more perceptive than he tended to be. Anakin certainly didn’t want to get caught, but at least he knew what story to go with if he did.

Finally, he reached the entrance of the tunnel, looking around carefully, he quickly slipped inside and hurried to close the entrance, plunging him into complete darkness.

Anakin pulled his wand out, lighting it with a, “Lumos Maxima,” They’d been working to improve their maximizing skills in charms recently and Anakin felt it was paying off. The tunnels were rather boring and unremarkable. He remembered them being pretty long, though he’d never made it all the way to the end the last time.

He took his time, kicking away rocks and humming softly. He still didn’t want to give his position away if there was someone scouting the tunnel for mischievous students, but boredom without Rex crept in fast.

He paused a moment at an odd noise and listened hard. It was a soft shuffling noise and despite the echo, it sounded like it was coming from behind him. Could it be another student trying the same thing he was? Unlikely, most of the houses were pretty locked down outside. He wasn’t sure why the professors had been so insistent on a supervised snow day, but most students went for it.

That left the possibility that he was about to be caught.

Letting the fear of boring evenings in detention spur him on, he picked up the pace until he was running rather swiftly. With the way his wand was swinging, the light bounced around enough to make him motion sick so he gave it a quiet, “Nox,” not letting up on the speed of which his shoes pounded the ground.

He slowed when he nearly tripped over something lying on the ground, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid running right into someone.

Anakin fell backwards with an, “oof,” He tried to catch his breath for a moment, “Sorry, Rabé,” He said softly standing up, “While I’ve got you, I’ve got a question for you. Lumos.”

His wand tip glowed again, revealing him face to face with a student’s face frozen in a scream. This was not Rabé. Anakin stumbled back, tripping on what felt like the fabric of a scarf, before he saw the glint of eyes reflecting the light off his wand.

Yellow. Bright yellow eyes narrowing as they realized they’d been caught. Anakin felt his heart leap in his chest. Fear filling his lungs, causing him to nearly choke on a scream. He heard the eyes take a step forward and he scrambled to his feet and fell into a sprint. His wand light faded as his concentration waned and he shoved it into his robes.

He shouldn’t be running from Maul, because that’s who it was, of course. He’d vowed revenge even if Qui-Gon always gave him that sad sort of look when he said it. He should be back there giving that kidnapper a piece of his mind. He was the Chosen One, it was his job to save everyone and take down the bad guys.

Even as these thoughts played in his mind, he continued to sprint, fear pushing him into overdrive. He nearly screeched again when he ran full tilt into something human knocking them both to the ground.

“Bloody hell!”

“Rex!” Anakin was relieved to find someone he knew, but it wasn’t enough to stop the adrenaline that had him back on his feet and pulling desperately on Rex’s arm to get him to move, “We have to go now!”

“Great, I just escape Palpatine only to get caught again. Who is it? Windu?” Anakin nearly growled at the slow pace Rex was moving at.

“It’s Maul! We have to go!” That was enough to get him moving.

They didn’t stop to even breathe again until they burst from the wall and right into Professors Palpatine and Qui-Gon who nearly got bowled over.

“What-” Qui-Gon looked ready to start a lecture and Palpatine even looked like he was ready to dole out a few point reductions, but Rex cut them off quickly.

“Anakin saw him!” Rex was pointing his wand at the entrance to the tunnel like Maul was about to come out right then and there for a fight.

“Saw who?” Palpatine asked head tilting to the side in curiosity and Anakin nearly spat the name out as he joined Rex in his battle stance.

“Maul.”

***

The deafening screech that stretched from Hogwarts through Hogsmeade with painful clarity was one that very few students attributed meaning to. It wasn’t unreasonable that students, particularly younger ones, immediately leapt into disorder, running hither and yon, terrified they were about to be dive-bombed. It was a horrible sight to see, even if it didn’t make his job all the more difficult.

Designed with the vocal cords of mandrakes, the emergency siren was only used in times of utter duress and was a means of warning students and faculty to return to Hogwarts at once. Historically, it hadn’t been officially sounded since the early twentieth century. Even still, prefects were always trained on what to do in the event of hearing the siren.

All the training in the world still didn’t fully prepare Obi-Wan for the very real visceral reaction that the ear-splitting sound brought. Of course, he could not spare a single moment to think, a tough reality for a Ravenclaw, and immediately moved forward with what he’d been taught: gather his house, ensure they were all in company, and get them back to the school.

While not given a direct message with it, everyone seemed to share the same thought as he did. There was only one true reason that the archaic alarm would be used right now accompanied by the dementors that jetted across the sky: Maul was close.

Not only close, but likely in their midst.

Shop owners wasted little time in evacuating their premises and battening down the hatches, effectively snuffing the warm glow of Hogsmeade in a singular swoop. His brain was busy scanning the hysterical crowd that was amid constant motion, searching for every and any blue-robed student that he might come across. It occurred to him now that there was perhaps more meaning to the explicitly placed Hogsmeade dress code than the professors led on to. It certainly made rounding up students a lot easier when they were color-coded.

Moving around on the ice-laden stone walkways? Less easy. He’d not only had to catch his own balance in his haste, but many other wobbly students. Even Satine’s elbow was caught by him a time or two, of which she spared no time to thank him, though he knew otherwise she would. She was just as stern as him in their mission, practically grabbing students and sliding them across the way to the huddle of other students, hardly blinking in the process.

It was with this goal in mind that he was able to develop a razor focus that practically tuned out the alarm. That, or the pounding in his ears did a decent job of it. Silently, he found the space to be relieved that Anakin was safe back at the castle with the other younger students.

It couldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes to successfully corral all of the students that lingered about. It wasn’t as though any of them truly wanted to sneak off, after all. The horror on everyone’s faces spoke volumes of their concern.

Each of the prefects did their headcounts rapidly, trying not to dawdle for a moment longer than necessary, all praying they reached the same number they started with. He felt capable of breathing again when Ravenclaw reached that quota. Gryffindor prefects, it seemed, had forgotten to include themselves for a moment, which briefly induced a panic that was quickly assuaged by an irritated Mace Windu.

Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous to be relieved that Mace Windu and Kit Fisto were the supervising professors that day, but it certainly helped their odds to have experienced fighters of dark magic alongside them. The sky grew dark above them, not from the descending sun, but from the mere presence of the dementors swarming together like an ominous storm cloud.

No one looked back as they were ushered down through the storm cellar beneath Honeydukes, which remained open only at Windu’s order.

“Move quickly, don’t linger, don’t stop, don’t pause!” He ordered in a booming voice that didn’t even need to be amplified with a charm.

While Gryffindor’s prefects had nobly volunteered to lead the charge of students down and through the tunnel, the others remained on the side, performing last-minute counts to ensure all made it safely while urging them to hurry it up. No one seemed to have a problem with performing the latter, but some were getting a little rowdy in the process.

“Hey, hey, this is not an excuse to push or shove!” Satine chastised a few overeager Slytherins, “The only way this works is if you work together!”

She was right, of course, but Obi-Wan believed it was falling on deaf ears. They were terrified and rightfully so. Perhaps they shouldn’t have allowed the Hogsmeade trip to occur in the first place with everything going on. It was almost like they were trying to lure Maul in. If that was the case, it was a very sadistic choice.

Padmé Amidala as well as her friends had been some of the last people to filter in, surprisingly, and tears stained their cheeks.

“Keep it moving, ladies!” Kit Fisto ordered.

“We can’t find Rabé!” Sabé, the girl who looked most like Padmé, cried.

“I’m sure she’s here somewhere.” Windu said, “Slytherin house reported no missing students based on their earlier count. Now GO!”

“She came later!” Padmé insisted, pushing back against the hands of Fenn Rau, who was trying to make them descend down the ladder. “We never saw her!”

“Then maybe she never came at all?” Satine tried.

“She came.” Padmé looked between both of them, “I know she did! She wouldn’t flake out on us like that. What if something horrible happened to her? What if-”

“-We can explore these possibilities back at Hogwarts.” Windu said, “If she is indeed missing, I will waste no time in coming back for her. I promise you.”

“That is already a waste of time!” Sabé protested, “What if she’s hurt?”

“I cannot risk all of you, including these prefects, for one possibly lingering student. I need to get you back to safety. The tunnels will be locked behind us.” Windu said and waved his wand to provide a gust of air, sending all of the girls down the tunnel against their own will. Satine looked horrified at the choice and frankly, so did Windu for a moment, before he began insisting the prefects follow.

For Obi-Wan, time began to slow down as his brain methodically and almost mechanically traced back through that day, desperately trying to recall if he’d seen Rabé. She stood out among Padmé’s friends in that she was the only Slytherin and yet it was still odd to see them apart. Before the alarm had turned the world on its head, it had been a rather mundane and peaceful day at Hogsmeade. The weather had been nice, if not quite nippy. He’d popped into Tomes & Scrolls with Satine while Cody lingered around Spintwitches, but none of them bought anything. If they had, surely, it would have been lost in the chaos with many other student’s purchases.

He’d debated getting a box of every flavor beans, since Hondo said he had a game of Russian Roulette, but with the beans, brewing. Cody seemed interested and it sounded like less of a consequential gaming experience than Hondo’s usual ventures. He wasn’t afforded the opportunity to go into Honeydukes, but…

Obi-Wan felt his heart stop altogether in his chest. He hadn’t gone into Honeydukes, but he almost did. And who was lingering by the butterbeer stand when he was busy deliberating with Cody?

Rabé.

He’d only caught a glimpse of her for a fraction of a second before he turned around. Clear as daylight and standing at the far end of Hogsmeade. There were other Slytherins around her, but like Padmé, her hair was always intricately woven and this made her stand out.

Where did she go so that none of her friends saw her?

“She was here today,” Obi-Wan lurched forward, grabbing Satine by the arm on instinct.

“How do you know?” She began to ask, eyes searching his own with growing concern.

“I saw her.” He said and then shoved against the stream of students that were still pouring down the tunnel.

“Ben,” It was her turn to grab him, “Wait!”

He didn’t wait, though. Instead, he slipped out of her grasp, which had been firm enough to take his robe with it, and pushed through the crowd. Windu, never the slouch, noticed him instantly and his eyes widened as he realized what Obi-Wan was trying to do. Unlike Padmé and the girls, he didn’t give him the opportunity to stop him, instead lunging forward and falling into an immediate sprint out the door- the cold wind whipping his face so hard that it caused tears to freeze in their wake.

He vaguely heard his name shouted from behind him, but he could only think of finding Rabé before it was too late. It might have been impulsive and it was definitely foolish, but he wouldn’t be able to leave with a clear conscience unless he did everything in his power to bring every student back safely. He understood that the professors needed to do their duty, but Obi-Wan was to be an auror someday. Running into the line of fire was surely a requirement of such a field.

All he could think of was how he knew what it was like to be forgotten. If there was even a small chance of preventing someone else from befalling that fate, he had to try.

Running across the slick stone walkway proved itself to be even more difficult than walking had, but Obi-Wan was utilizing the forward motion that the ice provided him for acceleration. The sky above him was almost completely black- as though Hogsmeade was at risk for being sucked into outer space. Suddenly, the cold that Obi-Wan felt no longer seemed to be as a result from the climate.

He’d studied dementors a good deal over the years and objectively understood how they drained a person from their hopes and dreams, removing the parts of them that basically made them human, but he realized then that he never really knew. He wasn’t even the target for these dementors and just being in their presence made him feel like all color was depleting from the landscape.

He forced himself through it, focusing on the task at hand and what purpose that gave him. He decided to slide by the (now closed) butterbeer stand at the end, where he’d last seen Rabé. After all, it was entirely possible that he was the last person to see her alive. That certainly didn’t give him much comfort.

He turned his head from side to side, trying with a last stitch effort to see if she’d taken refuge in one of the closed shops. The keepers were kind and would more than likely house a lost student during a crisis such as this.

As dread pooled deeper in the pit of his stomach and his body struggled to fight off the shaky chill that climbed its way up his spine, he dared to look up, noticing that the dementors were no longer searching, but swarming. The snowfall only seemed to thicken, which was rather unfortunate as Obi-Wan had to swipe his arm over his eyes several times to continue seeing.

They congregated at the Three Broomsticks- in front of which, Obi-Wan did not stop, but in his haste, did meet the bloodshot amber eyes of none other than the Dathomirian known as Maul. In their midst, Obi-Wan found he would rather embark on a lengthy stay with a dementor than look another second into the killer’s eyes. He was leaning back in his seat with casual aplomb and raised his stein of butterbeer as though in cheers or celebration, selling the chilling lack of regard for life with a cruel smile curling his black and red lips.

It was if he was saying, “I’ve won.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and averted his gaze immediately, understanding that this might be his final moment. If that were so, he would use it wisely.

“No, you won’t.”

Maul’s smile broadened, resembling the actual devil as he did so.

Yes, Obi-Wan was definitely about to die.

However, the moment ended as quick as it started, for once the dementors dive bombed past Obi-Wan and straight for Maul, he flipped a galleon into the air and caught it, allowing himself to disappear to whatever rock he dragged himself from before.

Obi-Wan only thundered forward until he arrived at the end of the limits of the town, sighing deeply and wincing at the wreath of frost that circled his head as he caught his breath. He was immensely cold and with nothing to do about it and worse, began to feel quite defeated. Part of him wanted to rationalize that Rabé did likely go back to the castle. However, whether it was intuition or simply an unknown magic in the air, he could practically feel the presence of another.

Then, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed something poking out of the snow- just next to an old townhome, and drew closer. His steps were heavy and without hopeful anticipation as he regarded the gray fingers breaking through the massive snowdrift.

He knelt down slowly, and raised his wand to blow away the piles of snow and ice and used his hands to remove the last remnants on his own. Attached to the outstretched hand, which served as much as a warning as it did a signal of distress, was the petrified gray face of Rabé.

***

“You have to go back for him!” Satine demanded as she was practically carried by Fisto all the way back to Hogwarts. It had been the only way they were able to prevent her from slipping after Obi-Wan in a panic-induced gut-reaction. She believed he was an idiot for running off the way he did, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t understand the feeling.

“The dementors are mobilizing, Satine!” Windu turned on her with fire in his eyes, “Had Mr. Kenobi not been so uncharacteristically impetuous, we wouldn’t be here.”

“And there would still be a lost child out there!” She growled, not usually one to ever speak to a professor so brazenly, but this was Obi-Wan they were talking about, and she would always be a bit irrational when it came to him. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really cares about that though!”

“Not care? I would lay down my life for every single one of you. Do you think it pleases me to know that not one, but two students could be suffering at the hands of that animal on my watch?” Windu said hotly, “But I cannot jeopardize the dementors potentially catching a murderous sociopath. Obi-Wan would not want me to do that!”

She knew deep in her bones that he was right, but she didn’t take to it any better, instead feeling bile rise up her throat- only subdued by the way it seemed to constrict at the wretched thought of losing her best friend. The cold weight of pure dread settled on her chest, evaporating her fury and nearly suffocating all logical thought.

Nearly.

She turned on her heels back to Ravenclaw house, who were staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and shock. Satine knew she had the capacity to lose her patience, but she tried to always do so with some semblance of professionalism.

“We’ll go find him ourselves then!” Cody, equally as heated as she had been, raged alongside Echo and Fives. All were still dressed for the winter and had their wands at the ready.

“You will do no such thing.” Professor Fisto pulled Cody back by the arm, “Headmaster Yoda is the only one who can save your friend now.”

“What was the point of teaching us all that stuff if we aren’t going to use it?” Cody fired.

“In the event that there is an inescapable situation, Cody.” Fisto said, “I commend your bravery, but there is a line between courage and stupidity.”

“So, that’s it?” Echo chimed in, “We’re just going to run and hide every time a bad guy comes knocking on our door?”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to teach us defense against the dark arts!” Fives added, “I’d say Maul qualifies.”

“Maul is much more than any of you can understand or handle.” Windu’s voice no longer spoke with anger, but from a deep place that teetered on remorse and pity. There was a defeated look in his eyes that Satine would never forget, as though Maul had already won.

“Glad you’ve all been effectively wasting our time then.” Cody snarled, “Propping us up and making us feel as though we’re really doing something all year. What has all of this been? Some show for the Ministry?”

A few other Gryffindors pooled around him and it occurred to Satine just then that if Cody hadn’t been so set on pursuing Quidditch as a career, that he’d make a mighty fine commanding officer. People rallied behind him. They believed in him.

She just wished that call to order wasn’t coming from a place of wishing to fight a dark lord.

“Cody, I highly recommend that you stand down.” Fisto said, “I get that you’re upset, but we need to remain calm. Take your brothers back to the Great Hall and wait for further instructions.”

Cody was teeming with anger- she could tell just looking at him and for a moment, she feared he was going to act brashly. Windu seemed to think the same thing judging by the appraising look he gave him.

He didn’t move, but he did send Echo and Fives back with the Gryffindor prefects and the rest of the house. The other houses and their respective prefects trickled afterwards, each going to the Great Hall for what was surely to be another lockdown.

“Great, another sleepover.” Fives huffed as he went.

“Yeah, telling ghost stories by candlelight altogether will surely keep us safe.” Echo complained under his breath.

“I thought I said-” Fisto began.

“-I’m not leaving until Kenobi is found.” Cody said, “Dead or alive.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that.” She seethed, grabbing his attention instantly and Cody, to his credit, did appear riddled with guilt at her reaction.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“I expect this level of irrationality from Cody.” Windu said and eyed Satine, “But not you.”

“I’m not leaving either.” She said, clutching Obi-Wan’s robe tightly between clenched fists, “Consequences be damned.”

Where she thought there would be retribution or even more yelling, there was not. Fisto, of the two of them, actually appeared more upset. Windu, instead, nodded slightly. It seemed he understood that this was a battle he would not be winning today.

Satine scanned the area, remembering someone very curious to be missing from the pack. As if it were possible, more horror gnawed at her nerves, “Where’s Anakin?”

That was Maul’s whole purpose for scouting out the school, right?

Windu grimaced, “He did try to sneak out to Hogsmeade earlier.”

Her eyes widened, “But he’s alright?”

“It is to my understanding that young Skywalker is with Professor Jinn.” Palpatine swerved around the corner, dark cloaks flowing behind him dramatically as he reconvened with the professors, “Any update on Maul?”

“No,” Windu said tartly, “But seeing as our students have been debating on staging a coup, it might have been useful to have your presence, Professor.”

The tension, as it was, seemed unbreakable.

“My apologies, Professor Windu, but I will say these students have the right to be upset. All of our efforts to protect the school have thus far failed.” Palpatine said.

Satine also couldn’t blame everyone for being upset. In their effort to make everyone feel safe, they only propped them up with delusions of grandeur. There was a fine line to walk between keeping the student body informed and propagating debilitating fear- at least in this predicament.

“You’re here now.” Fisto said, “That’s what counts.”

Satine wasn’t so sure, but then again, Maul hadn’t broken in yet.

“Surely, it’s not wise to have students so close to the entrance.” Palpatine said.

“Yes, well, it also wasn’t wise to allow Anakin so close to your Vitamix potion.” Windu countered, “I guess we’re all doing things a bit differently right now.”

Palpatine seemed properly slapped by that, because there was little argument that could be brought up to counter the comment. That was, indeed, what happened and it left the school wide open for possible attack.

“Yoda should be back any minute.” Fisto paced the floor, his wet boots making a squeaking noise as he did so, “And hopefully, he has good news.”

“If not?” Cody asked.

“If not, we might have to help him and if that’s the case, you two will stay back.” Windu ordered.

Even Cody didn’t argue with that logic.

Not but a moment later, erratic banging came from the metal door, growing more desperate as the seconds went on. Palpatine leaned forward as if to open it and Fisto grabbed his wrist before he could perform the charm.

“There’s a password.” Fisto said.

“And why would Maul just come knocking on the front door?” Palpatine scoffed.

“Maul is anything but conventional.” Windu reasoned.

Cody and Satine looked between each other as the three professors deliberated. They were beginning to understand why it sometimes felt like it took forever for anything to get done. No one could agree on the simplest things.

“What if it’s Ben?” Satine stepped forward, “You’ve said it yourself that the tunnels are blocked off now.”

“Yoda would have found him and brought him back by apparition.” Fisto said.

“And if he didn’t?”

Windu opened his mouth to respond, but then from a familiar voice, “HELLO THERE? IS ANYONE THERE?”

She glared between the three professors, who were all a bit dumbstruck as they hastily moved to open the door. As it swung open unceremoniously, her heart resumed beating as Obi-Wan Kenobi, pale, drenched and speckled with snowflakes, practically fell through the entryway.

She moved on instinct rather than thought and caught him in a tight hug, combatting the sharp chill that traveled up her spine at his frigid body with the warm relief that he was alive. She only removed herself enough to tightly wrap his robe around his shoulders before pulling him closer.

“Get him some blankets!” Windu ordered while Palpatine was simultaneously brewing a warm beverage from thin air. Satine, for her part, could not let go.

“N-nice t-to see you t-too.” He shivered and did not reject the warm contact.

“You’re an idiot, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She muttered into his shoulder, but it really didn’t have as much fire as she would have liked it to- not when he looked so pitiful with wet hair in his face, teeth chattering, and a nose and cheeks red from the cold.

“I’m aware.” He said.

“You could have been killed!”

“I know.”

“And you really couldn’t have at least brought your robe with you if you were going to go running off on a deadly mission?”

“You’re right.”

“Stop agreeing with me!” She leaned back and glared at him.

“My apologies,” He smiled ruefully, but it faded almost instantly, “All the trouble I’ve caused, I’m afraid it was for nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Fisto cut in.

“I saw him.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hollow when he said it. His eyes became downcast as he reminisced, “And Rabé. I couldn’t move her on my own… She was frozen in carbonite.”

Windu cursed, scrubbing a hand over his bald head, “And Maul?”

“Gone.” Obi-Wan said, “He used a portkey before the dementors could get to him.”

***

The dementors separated like parting clouds, allowing for remnants of dwindling sunlight to cast a yellow beam onto Hogsmeade. Even with the sunset behind it, the usually buzzing and quaint town looked barren without the lively folk that inhabited it. It was to their best interest to hide, of course, and he knew that once this awful storm passed, they would return again. Yoda moved slowly through the snow, feet unbothered by the crunch of the ice beneath him.

He had no doubt that Maul was here, but held equal assurance that he no longer was. His protective charms were supposed to stop people from getting in, not out.

He grimaced as he knelt to the Slytherin girl’s motionless body- frozen in time with a horrific expression painting her features. She would need to join the growing group that took up beds in Madame Nema’s hospital wing. He just hoped with everything in him that they could make this right.

It tugged at his heart that children always seemed to be the ones to suffer for the choices of adults. This one was not excluded as Yoda and the other professors deemed that it would be safe.

It should have been safe.

He cursed as he thought back to the extensive lengths he’d gone to in protecting the school. He was exhausted, constantly firing off on all cylinders to keep this place safe. Even Hogsmeade hadn’t been exempt from his reach.

Well it had, but it seemed the small window of Maul’s murder in Diagon Alley to Yoda waking up from the botched Vitamix potion was the hole he’d crawled through. The dementors hadn’t detected him, which was a whole other concern that he would need to investigate at a later time.

There were so many ways that they failed.

Yes, well, this girl’s parents will not enjoy a meager response like that, so he ought to think of something better. Either way, he would not be sleeping well for his hubris. Maul might not storm the castle with his being there, but he was not above dancing around it. He was boxed out for now, but there was only so much that could be done. He had managed to convince them to disallow apparition for the time being without Ministry approval. This combined with the monitorization of the Floo network, limited Maul significantly.

However, there were always portkeys, which was the most secure way for a person in hiding to quickly transport. You didn’t need a license for it and you didn’t even leave a trace on your wand in the process.

It seemed Maul was getting significant joy from toying with them by instilling fear. It was just like a dark wizard to play on people’s emotions as such.

And yet…

He looked back down at the girl with a different sort of befuddlement. Not that he was complaining, but why hadn’t he killed her? Was it because it would have drawn too much attention for his liking? That didn’t seem right, though, because he had no problem murdering the guards at Azkaban or that store owner on Diagon Alley. Why utilize this mysterious alternative method now?

It hadn’t been the first time, obviously. There was the first official occurrence in December, not to mention the carbon remnants found in Shmi Skywalker’s flat, and Obi-Wan and Satine’s discovery at the Shrieking Shack.

Maul had certainly developed a predilection for the long con in his time locked away in Azkaban. Yoda would say it was out of character if he didn’t understand how much a man could change from trauma. He’d seen it in his own face and he’d seen it in many other’s. Maul didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted his target and he wanted it done right.

But why Anakin Skywalker? Surely, Maul didn’t buy into the Chosen One prophecy. And if he did, why the sudden malevolence towards the boy? Nothing from the ancient texts seemed to make any reference to Maul in the slightest. It wouldn’t have affected him in Azkaban.

Would it?

As Yoda waved his wand once to lift the casket of carbon from the ground to float aimlessly behind him, he turned back towards the castle, realizing not for the first time that the more he learned, the more he had to ask.

***

“We were worried you became a popsicle out there,” Cody said as he took off his own robe and coat to also wrap around Obi-Wan. They all sat in the Great Hall with the rest of the student body, each positioned on their own sleeping bag as they faced each other. Despite having been inside for over an hour, Obi-Wan still clutched the blankets that were given to him tightly and didn’t reject Cody’s addition to the pile.

“I’m sure he was more concerned about seeing Maul.” Satine said.

“I’m sure he was.” Ventress sauntered by with her trademark smirk painted on her black-stained lips.

“Come off it, Ventress,” Cody scowled, “Kenobi wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Dementors were there too.”

“They’ve been here the entire time, Fett.” Ventress said, “How many false scares have there been? I’m beginning to believe it’s all conspiracy, myself.”

“It’s that level of thinking that’s going to get someone seriously injured.” Satine said, “Or worse.”

“Maybe then someone will start to take legitimate action,” She sighed almost dreamily, like she was fantasizing about the possibility.

“And I suppose Rabé basically turning to stone was just nothing.” Cody barked.

“A pity, truly.” She inspected her fingernails, which were actually quite noticeably jagged and cracked with chipped black polish, “Have we not noticed that every victim has been pureblood? You don’t hear the Ministry talking about that, of course.”

“What are you getting at?” Satine growled.

“I’m just saying, Duchess,” Ventress displayed her best pout, which coming from her, still had all the appearances of a cat ready to pounce, “I would hate to see a group marginalized by their blood type.”

“Listen here, Ventress-” She clutched his sleeping bag tightly and was surely ready to fire off on a meaningful tangent of her own, but was interrupted by the sound of barreling footsteps coming their way.

Anakin and Rex came sprinting down the aisle and slid onto their knees towards where they sat. Anakin, for his part, skidded right into Obi-Wan and nearly knocked him over by the velocity at which he traveled.

“Where have you two been?” Cody asked.

“We were with Qui-Gon!” Anakin said and looked around to Obi-Wan, “Fives just told us about what happened at Hogsmeade and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Obi-Wan’s heart melted at the thought of Anakin’s concern and ruffled his hair, “Not a scratch on me.”

Anakin nodded in relief, “That’s good. It’s crazy that we both saw Maul today and he didn’t even do anything to either of us!”

Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and the briefly forgotten Ventress all snapped their attention towards Anakin in surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?” Satine was the first to speak.

“When and where did you see Maul?” Cody followed shortly behind.

“And you lived?” It was unclear whether Ventress was surprised or disappointed.

Obi-Wan, in all fairness, was still processing the small twelve year old boy, who presumably alone, faced the bloodthirsty killer that had it out for him. He knew he must have looked horrified, because Anakin’s own worry seemed to grow by just looking at Obi-Wan.

“I’m okay!” He said first, knowing that this was the most important thing, “And for the record, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It was a little your fault.” Rex winced.

“Rex! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Anakin whined.

“What did you do?” Obi-Wan pinched his brow.

“I already told Qui-Gon and he promised me immunity and while I don’t know for sure what that means, I’m pretty sure it means you’re not allowed to get mad.”

“That’s not what it means.” He said.

“Well, then, who’s got a decent ghost story to share?” He tried, looking around to each of them, “Ventress? I’m sure you’ve got some just by looking in a mirror every day.”

“Anakin…”

“Fine…” He sighed, “I… Might have sort of tried to go give Padmé her Valentine.”

“Of all the foolish and impulsive things to do!” Obi-Wan roared instantly.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“No I did not!” He snapped, “Do you not realize how incredibly dangerous that was? And the kind of risk you were putting yourself at? What would have happened if he had gotten you? I swear, I know you’re young but you need to think in terms of the long-”

“-Mate, not sure you are in the best position to be giving that lecture today.” Cody said, “Seeing as you also ran right into Maul’s clutches.”

“Yeah, really!” Anakin defended, “I heard all about what you did!”

“To save someone!” Obi-Wan rounded on his friend, “Not to retrieve a pretty trinket for a girl I fancy!”

“Based on your taste that’s a good thing.” Ventress scoffed.

Satine, who was admittedly calmer than Obi-Wan, frowned and looked at Anakin, “What happened?”

“If I’m allowed to continue.” He said pointedly before going on, “I wasn’t actually going to go to Hogsmeade. Believe it or not, I’m not completely stupid.”

“You just said-” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked.

“-Ben, let him finish.” Satine admonished.

“Thank you,” Anakin nodded and the kid really had the nerve to look smug, “I wasn’t going to Hogsmeade, but Rabé was and believe it or not, I get nervous too sometimes. I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to give it to her in person, so I was going to ask Rabé if she could give it to Padmé for me. So, I used the map to follow her, obviously, and was never going to leave the tunnel system. But then about halfway through, I saw him.”

“Maul?” Cody asked in awe.

“No, the boogeyman. Yes, Maul.” Rex rolled his eyes.

“Seems like the same thing to me,” Ventress yawned, clearly unimpressed, “Seeing as Maul can’t be in two places at once, I would say one of you is lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Anakin asserted and looked to Obi-Wan, “And he’s not either.”

“Rabé didn’t just turn to carbonite on her own.” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s eyes widened, “He got Rabé too?”

“What do you mean too?” Satine asked.

“I mean, Tiplee was also frozen in carbonite down in the tunnels. I only managed to get away because I must have caught him off guard. I ran as fast as I could.” He patted his pockets, “Dang! I think I dropped the map in the process. Again.”

“Seriously, no more of those for you.” Satine said.

“Not like it’ll be of much use now that Yoda is closing the tunnels again.” Cody said.

“That’s horrible.” Obi-Wan frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully, “But I wonder why he wouldn’t have come into the school.”

“He’s afraid of Yoda.” Ventress scowled, “Everyone knows that, but clearly, he’s a fool to be leaving all of these little clues around.”

“There’s got to be a bigger plan at play here.” Satine said.

“Like what? Two Maul’s?” Ventress rolled her eyes, “I could see the creep going after Skywalker as that is clearly his primary intent, but Kenobi? Who would bother to go after someone who cowered at his own shadow at one point?”

The particular incident that Ventress was alluding to happened when they were only five years old, he might add, but even in his head it didn’t pack the same impact that she wanted it to. Instead, Obi-Wan flashed her a disapproving look.

“Rabé is a member of your house.” He pointed out, “I didn’t see you running back to save her.”

“Actually, I didn’t see you at all.” Satine added.

Ventress, nonplussed, rolled her eyes dramatically, “Good to know the two of you are still conjuring nonsense that would rival The Quibbler, but if you must know, I was tutoring in the library.”

“Wait a second,” Obi-Wan allowed some of the blanket to slide off of him when he sat up straighter, trying his best to suppress a shiver that immediately followed. He was grateful that Satine set it back into place, “Don’t tell me you’re Hondo’s tutor.”

Ventress furrowed her brow, “Be wary of the tone, Kenobi. My marks often rival your own.”

She wasn’t wrong. Horrible personality aside, Ventress was an exemplary student. Like him, she sort of had to be, given the reputation their respective families upheld.

“I wasn’t underestimating your intelligence,” He said, because he wasn’t a total fool, “But I never took you for a good samaritan.”

“Surely, he’s paying her.” Satine groaned as she leaned back on her hands.

“I don’t need the money, muggle-born.” She hissed.

“Since when has galleons been his only form of currency?” Satine shrugged, “Everyone has a price, is all I’m saying.”

“Fools,” Ventress shook her head as she walked away, “All of you.”

“Yeah, well, when you turn to stone, it’ll match your heart.” Anakin said and stood up, “I’m going to go apologize to Padmé.”

Obi-Wan watched him sadly as he walked over to where the crestfallen group of usually chipper girls huddled together. At least they were able to comfort each other in this trying time. Obi-Wan looked to Cody and Satine, who were both wearing a considerable amount of concern on their features.

He knew their responsibilities as older students and prefects, alike, were only going to rise as the fear and sense of danger increased. Anakin had nearly come to his end if he hadn’t been so quick on his feet. He supposed those dueling classes did have their uses if implemented properly. As it were, Maul would likely not make the same mistake twice.

***

The atmosphere was much more subdued than most Quidditch mornings. Even Cody found himself sitting quietly across from where Obi-Wan was falling asleep over a plate of pancakes. Ventress was the only one not subdued, she was glaring around at her team, snarling at anyone not paying attention to her. He didn’t think she’d get very far with an attitude like that. As captain, sometimes the best thing you could do was read the mood of your teammates.

Obi-Wan’s head dropped forwards almost landing in the syrup before Satine managed to pull him back without even a glance over. He blinked, looking around like he hadn’t even been aware they were in the Great Hall in the first place.

“Might want to eat something, mate,” Cody suggested, gesturing to his plate that he seemed surprised was loaded even if he had done it himself.

“Right,” He did so without another word. Satine looked fairly volatile this morning, having woken up extremely early for a morning patrol so there wasn’t much conversation for them to be had. He was tired too, having been picking up a few patrols of his own. Palpatine’s accidental sleeping potion may have been an unfortunate idea, but a few extra hands that could take on prefect duties were still welcomed. It’s not like Cody could say no after watching his friends be run ragged.

“You sure you’re going to be awake enough to stay on a broom?” Cody asked as they both watched a piece of pancake fall slowly off his fork. Obi-Wan just nodded looking up with a sigh.

“We’re all tired,” He nodded towards where Koth had passed out at the breakfast table. Aayla and Cin were awake enough to doodle on his face so it maybe wasn’t the entire team, “Hopefully this will make for a short game.”

“Hopefully,” He nodded, but he wasn’t sure he was honest in his statement. Ventress was looking especially poisonous this morning and wouldn’t take anything sitting down, “Maybe we shouldn’t be playing anyways.”

Obi-Wan and Satine both looked at him like he’d just grown a second head and he met their looks with a glare.

“Who are you and what have you done with Cody?” Kenobi squinted at him as if checking to make sure he hadn’t been cursed.

“I think hell must have frozen over,” Satine added with a nod, “I never thought I’d hear Cody Fett, not want anything to do with Quidditch.”

“Hey! Woah!” He shook his head quickly, “I never said that.”

They both raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Even I am not enough of a sports fan to look past the elephant in the room,” He jabbed his fork at them, “Maul’s close and we’re just going to take the whole school outside? Again? Plus, morale is down,” Instead of gesturing to the two obvious examples in front of him, he pointed to Koth, who had just woken up and hadn’t figured out why everyone was laughing at him yet.

“When you put it that way...” Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to the professors, who were desperately trying to keep warm inviting facades. He took a sip of pumpkin juice.

“Why go through all this trouble for such a barbaric game anyways,” Satine glowered, “We need a break from potential violence not more.”

Cody knew explaining the dynamics of Quidditch would not change her mind any so he kept his own thoughts to himself on the matter. He thought of Quidditch as a much needed break most of the time. But it was hard to deny the fact that only a few people would be having a good time today and that wasn’t how he felt a healthy Quidditch environment should be.

The screech of an owl alerted everyone to the arrival of the morning mail. It was always a little hectic, but it didn’t stop them from being able to spot one of their three owls if it chose to show up. The only owl Cody could recognize was a large tawny one. Well manicured and, if memory served, sharp talons. Obi-Wan barely avoided getting his letter dropped on his head, his hand flicked up to catch the falling parchment with deft precision. As most letters from his parents, he was careful to shield it so Satine couldn’t see, something that always had her frustrated despite knowing that it was fair given the nature of these letters.

Obi-Wan read the whole thing in lightning speed, eyebrows furrowing the further he got, although he nodded before swiftly depositing it on the table next to his plate. His owl swooped down again landing on his head causing him to wince.

“Alright message received,” He tried to pick up the pesky owl, but it looked rather indignant to be manhandled. Still because he was gentle and fed him a bit of breakfast, the owl allowed itself to be set on his arm, “Tell them they’re early,” He tried saying it quietly enough so neither of them would hear, unfortunately they were both rather intune to his voice. If an owl could show emotions, which Cody had, up until this moment thought untrue, Obi-Wan’s owl would look almost melancholic for a moment. A hard thing to do for a bird that had permanent angry eyebrows colored into its feathers.

It took off in a hurry, nearly taking off a few heads as it went and disappeared back into the flock it had arrived with.

“What did they say?” Satine asked, as she usually did, but he just shrugged.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” He gave her a smile, but she frowned.

“That never makes me feel better,” She told him sternly. He just shrugged.

There was a loud pop and they all looked up to see Palpatine and Qui-Gon standing at the head of the Great Hall, the two of them would be escorting both teams outside and to the pitch. It was best to have an experienced teacher at the helm and who better than those who had earned their titles as Heads of House.

Obi-Wan stood swiftly, accepting their well wishes and good lucks, before falling into line behind Eeth. Satine was watching them leave with narrowed eyes and Cody wasn’t sure what was going on, but she certainly looked much more focused than earlier. She slid her hand across the table, snatching the note from where he’d left it, clearly for the trash pile, and spread it open.

“Should you do that?” He asked even if he was curious himself, he wasn’t about to get accused of reading other people’s mail.

“It’s a suspicious piece of parchment I found unattended,” She lied as she peered down at it. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she read it just loud enough for him to hear.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,

As you are about to turn 17, we remind you once again of your duties and expectations. In one year you will turn 18 and we’ll discuss then your future. Despite your best attempts to undermine our plans we will do what we can to work around your failure.

Don’t expect a gift this year, you received one last year and we’ll be happy to give you one when you turn 20. Consider continuing to go to school despite your constant disappointments gift enough.

-Mother”

Cody felt the grip on his fork tighten as he stared a hole through the paper. A correspondence with Obi-Wan’s family really was never pleasant, but did they have to be so outwardly despicable? What surprised him most was the excitement lighting up Satine’s eyes as she read the letter over again.

“Brilliant!” She grinned and he practically snapped his fork in half.

“What’s so brilliant about those two bastards continuing to tighten the noose around his neck?” Cody growled and Satine looked up, having the decency to look aghast.

“Oh heavens no,” She looked sick at the thought, “That’s not what I was referring to at all. How could you think-?”

“-How could I not? Maybe hell is freezing over,” He ran a hand down his face as she rummaged around in her bag before shoving plates and goblets out of the way, nearly toppling a few over. She set down a massive book-like object with a white exterior and silver rings. It was full to the brim with pages and she opened it up excitedly.

“It’s a binder,” She told him at his look before moving on to what must have been the important thing at hand, “You know how Ben’s rather dodgy about his birthday?” Cody nodded, “Well I’ve been tracking him ever since 2nd year,” She flipped around in the binder and Cody could see so many color-coded graphs it made his head spin.

“You did this? For what?”

“If he won’t tell us, I’ll find out on my own,” She glared sternly at a picture of Ben that blinked up at her from the page, “That’s what I told him,” She flipped through it, pointing at various sections, “I was able to surmise that his parents tend to have a letter pattern. They only send him mail on major holidays or if he’s done something they disapprove of.”

“When is that not the case,” He muttered.

“I was able to narrow it down after a few years to February or March,” She was in the back of the book now where a calendar full of crossed out dates sat, “It was confusing, sometimes they sent him a letter end of February like this one,” She waved the letter at him, “Sometimes it was in March. This is the first time I’ve been able to read one,” She grinned proudly tucking the letter into the back pocket for evidence purposes.

“What good does that do? They didn’t say what day it was,” Cody studied the calendar in interest.

“It does a lot of good!” She pulled a fancy highlighter from her bag, “He said they were early, meaning it can’t be any of these dates,” She ran her finger through most of the month. They only had a few days left until March though, maybe she’d figured out the month, “Most importantly!” She looked at him face as serious as it was when she was taking her OWLs, “They said they got him a gift last year-”

“Yeah a ruddy gift,” Cody frowned, “What good is an antique quill if it doesn’t even work?”

“I agree,” She said impatiently, “That’s not the point. They said they’d get him another one when he turned 20. He turned 16 last year-”

“Your point?” Cody was beginning to get lost and would rather she hurry up her point than leave him thinking.

“He doesn’t have a birthday this year at all!” She announced and Cody straightened, staring at her in shock.

“Well that’s not possible!” He declared, “Everyone has a birthday once a year! Even those who don’t care much like Kenobi.”

“It is possible!” She grinned proudly drawing a line on her calendar right between the 28th of February and the 1st of March, “He was born on February 29th! A leap year!”

Cody blinked. That actually made a lot of sense. Kenobi wasn’t a liar and he was sure he’d asked about specific days and been told he was wrong. He’d only seen Kenobi get a birthday present their first year (a pack of gobstones) and their fifth year (the aforementioned broken antique quill). Cody had just figured they wouldn’t ever figure it out unless he told them himself, so he usually just tried to get him a good Christmas present every year. He had noticed Satine had started to give him a present around this time of year, but now they had the exact day.

“Does this mean his parents use that as an excuse to never get him anything?” He frowned and Satine angered instantly.

“I’m almost shocked they haven’t forgotten the date themselves.”

“So,” Cody looked at the little highlighted line indicating the fruition of 5 years of work, “What are we doing about it?”

***

“I still say we should have gone with March 1st,” Cody said from where he was balanced rather precariously on a ladder taping the end of a streamer, “Then we’d be celebrating him having turned 17.”

Satine, who was holding onto the ladder to make sure she didn’t have to take anyone to the hospital wing today, glared up at him, “Absolutely not! He has a February birthday, we’re celebrating it in February. Otherwise he’s going to assume we’ve forgotten it!”

“He doesn’t even know we know it,” Cody rationalized, but came down from the ladder anyways to admire his work with her.

“Alright,” She looked down reading her list. She’d had years to plan this event, he’d never had a party before that she knew of and she wanted it to be perfect, “We’ve got the streamers and the balloons. The guests have been told what time to arrive...” She checked off the boxes as she went, “Can I trust you to go and get the cake without dropping it?” She looked up at her friend and he grinned giving her a thumbs up.

“Oh yeah definitely,” It didn’t instill in her a lot of hope, but he was at least eager to do it.

“Alright go, but hurry!” She checked the time off the clock in the corner. “They’ll be here soon.”

“On it!” He saluted her and raced out the door.

Satine observed her surroundings once more. They’d chosen an empty classroom rather than something elaborate like the Great Hall or too intimate like Qui-Gon’s office. She’d gotten approval, Qui-Gon was to arrive any minute now to supervise. He’d been the only professor she could think of that would understand how important this was to do. She was sure if she’d talked to Windu or even Headmaster Yoda, she’d have gotten shot down before she even began. Qui-Gon knew about Ben’s family though and like her, seemed to want to give him the best experience he could.

There was a spot for the cake on the teacher’s desk as well as plates, utensils, and napkins. The ceiling was practically drowning in streamers of all different colors and balloons were floating around aimlessly. Her and Cody’s presents to him were sitting in a neat pile on a couple of tables pushed together. She hoped he’d get a few more, but hadn’t explicitly said anything on the invitations. It was rather short notice after all.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” She turned to see Qui-Gon in the doorway. He was holding a colorfully wrapped package which she gratefully took from him placing it on the table next to the other.

“Do you think it’s too much?” The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, but she’d learned over the years it was hard to figure out what would.

“I’m sure we could all do with a little cheeriness,” He said in lieu of answering. Maybe he didn’t know any better than she did.

It didn’t take much more time before the students she’d invited began to arrive. The entirety of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team poured in along with Stass. They’d been a little downtrodden at being beat so terribly by Slytherin, but seemed happy enough to be there. The clones were the next to arrive with Anakin in tow. Anakin proudly added his gift to the stack before going back over to Rex.

Cody arrived again, loudly kicking in the door gingerly holding the cake. It hadn’t gotten squashed which she was thankful for. Behind him was Breha and Bail, both levitating trays of food and a bowl of punch, letting them settle into place on a row of desks.

More prefects appeared as well as a few other students. Hondo had seemed rather pleased to have been invited, but Satine was a little worried about what he had possibly brought as a present. Soon the room was pretty full and Satine shushed everyone as well as she could without shouting.

“Alright I’m going to get Ben,” She announced, “Be ready.”

“Yes ma’am!” The Fett’s all saluted her and the others in the room nodded keeping their chatter to a minimum.

***

Obi-Wan was growing a little concerned. Satine had been the one to ask him to meet her in the library, but she had yet to appear. He’d kept himself occupied with his textbooks, but he was tempted to go out and look for her. It was no sooner than he closed his textbook and stood that she rounded the corner looking rather flustered.

“Sorry I’m late,” She panted as she flipped her hair back and out of her face. It was down today, which was becoming a bit of a rarity and he smiled.

“It’s no trouble,” He said sitting back down, “Was there something in particular you wanted to work on? I’ve already finished my essays, but I can help you with yours.”

“Actually,” She was fidgeting nervously and he gazed up at her in concern, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we went on a walk first.”

“A walk?” That was an unusual request.

“Yes I- I just think it would be nice, don’t you?” Well, he was hard pressed to deny her anything. Especially something as simple as a walk around the castle.

“Alright,” He agreed, sliding his text book back into his bag. She was scrutinizing him and he looked down to make sure his clothes were straightened, because the last time he’d gotten that look his fly had been undone. Rather embarrassing.

He looked up again, starting in surprise, when he felt a hand in his hair. She gave him an apologetic look as she stepped back.

“Sorry, your hair was messed up,” She told him and he felt his face warm slightly, but she just coughed awkwardly and started walking. He ran to catch up.

He couldn’t help, but to run his own hands through his hair, just to ensure that it wasn’t still a mess, “It’s fine Ben,” She told him as she walked just far enough ahead to force him to follow her path.

“I didn’t think you minded much if it was messy,” He said instead of removing his hands.

“I don’t, I just-” Satine cut herself off with a shake of her head. Obi-Wan was confused, but let his hands finally drop to his sides.

“Well alright?” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She was acting off and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe she was upset? But she didn’t look it. Even if she was, the library was perfectly quiet that evening. His heart beat a little faster in his chest as he remembered another time the two of them had been alone, the Christmas party. Did she- were they going to talk about it? He wasn’t sure he knew what to say about such things.

“Ben?” He looked up at his name and she was frowning at him, “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m completely fine,” He confirmed, “Are you?”

“Yes?” Maybe they were both acting a little off this evening.

“Good,” He smiled at her and she returned it easily.

She turned then and walked towards the door of an empty classroom, disappearing inside. What on earth could she want with him in an empty classroom?

He refused to lose her though and quickened his pace until he was pulling the door open only to be assaulted by many loud cheers. It took him a moment to register what they were saying in the first place.

“Happy Birthday!”

His birthday? He blinked, taking in the scene. Many of his close friends were there, his Quidditch team, Anakin, Qui-Gon. All of them were standing there watching him which made him more than a little nervous. The ceiling was decorated in nearly every color of the rainbow and it was complete with balloons. He gripped the strap of his bag, unsure what was expected of him. He certainly had never had a party for himself before.

“Happy Birthday, mate!” Cody appeared in front of him practically dragging him into the room and pushing him towards the professor’s desk. It broke the tension in the room and chatter resumed much to his relief. There were less eyes on him.

“Uhm, thank you,” He managed a smile.

“Look at your cake! We had it made special.”

He looked down in surprise at a white cake decorated with 17 silver candles. Written in delicate blue icing was, “Happy Birthday Obi-Wan!” He’d never had his own birthday cake before, but he’d seen them when Satine or Cody had celebrated theirs. It was kind of them to think of him, he just wished he knew the proper way to respond. The parties he attended usually had scripts to follow and he had never been instructed for one like this.

“It’s chocolate,” Satine’s hand landed right next to his on the desk and he looked up catching her eyes, “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” he agreed almost solemnly.

“Do you like it?” She asked and he nodded quickly, his face heating up, how rude that he hadn’t immediately offered them a thank you.

“Yes of course! I- Thank you,” He told them both seriously, “I’m sorry, I’m just not at all sure how I’m supposed to react.” Satine’s eyes flashed sadly at him for a moment before it was gone and she smiled at him softly, bumping her fingers into his.

“You can react however you’d like,” She assured him, “Yell at me that you hate it for all I care,” He took a step back and nearly tripped over Cody at the insinuation.

“Absolutely not, I’ll treasure it!” He vowed with a stern expression and she laughed a little, it was a sound he quite liked.

“Don’t treasure it too long,” Cody warned him, “Because after we sing to you we’re all going to eat it.”

“Sing?”

Neither of them answered, but he found himself pushed into the professor’s chair and everyone seemed to gather all around him. He felt his face get warm and he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. Both Cody and Satine were lighting the candles on the cake and right when they were done a rather off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” was sung and shouted at him. There wasn’t much for him to do except sit there and try to look less uncomfortable. When Fives and Echo finally finished drawing out the last “you” Satine told him to make a wish and gestured for him to blow out the candles. It took him two attempts and he wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt.

Soon, however, everyone was preoccupied with their slices of cake and mingling with one another. Obi-Wan had to admit despite his embarrassment of having so many eyes on him, the cake was rather good. It was certainly his favorite kind from the Great Hall and he was quietly delighted when Satine offered him another piece.

“You know today’s not my birthday,” He told Satine as she sat down next to him cutting into her own slice.

“I know,” She smirked, “I know that your birthday isn’t today or tomorrow, but is actually February 29th. Despite what anyone else may say about this though, is that it’s still worth celebrating even if the day won’t appear again for a few more years.”

He blinked at her, shocked. He knew she’d been interested in figuring out his birthday, but he had assumed she’d dropped it by now, “How did you find out?”

“Years of observation,” It wasn’t a helpful answer, but he had to admire her intelligence in getting this far, “So am I right?” She leaned in close to him, her eyes searching his for the answer.

“Yes,” He answered quietly.

“Kenobi!” Hondo nearly knocked him into his cake when he slapped him on the back, “Why have you not shared your birthday with me before! Hondo gives fabulous presents that one would not wish for in their wildest dreams!”

“Ah thank you Hondo,” He peeled Hondo’s arm off his shoulders. He was fairly sure Hondo was correct in his assumption that he definitely wouldn’t have wished for whatever lurked in Hondo’s present in any of his dreams.

“You’re welcome, my friend! Only the best for one of my closest associates,” He winked at him before waltzing away back into the crowd. Obi-Wan watched him go as Satine stifled her laughter.

“I assumed you’d want to open your presents later?” She asked.

“I have presents?” He looked around the room until he spotted them and blanched. There had to be at least 10 sitting there in a pile just for him, “I can’t accept that,” He looked at her with wide eyes and she narrowed her eyes.

“It would be ruder for you to reject them,” He looked between her and the presents. A catch 22.

“I’m not opening Hondo’s in front of anyone,” He decided and she laughed again.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and they both looked up to see Anakin sprawled out on the floor. Obi-Wan’s heart flew into his throat thinking of a similar event at the last party he’d gone to at this school. Before he could run over there though, Anakin was sitting up with a dopey smile on his face. He giggled.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief, but something still didn’t seem right. Anakin had Qui-Gon’s help to stand up, but he wobbled. He looked a little bit like he was drunk, but he doubted Satine or Cody would spike the punch at his birthday party. Cody seemed to have a similar guess because he took a sip of his own punch and frowned.

“Don’t you think,” Anakin giggled so hard he almost fell down again, “Don’t you think that Miraj Scintel is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met?”

The room went silent.

“She’s really beautiful,” He said again giggling wildly. He tripped and Qui-Gon just barely managed to catch him.

Half the room broke out into laughter, it was a ridiculous sight, but Obi-Wan was more worried about what the cause of this was. Qui-Gon was too and immediately slapped a cookie out of Hondo’s hand.

“Someone’s snuck a love potion in,” Satine said standing up, looking particularly mad.

“Miraj Scintel by the sound of it,” Cin Drallig raised an eyebrow as they all quietly set their food down.

“Must have been after you Kenobi,” Fives pointed out, “After all this is technically your party.”

“Me?” He barely talked to the girl and found her quite detestable, they were as different as they came.

“It’s possible any of you were the target,” Qui-Gon frowned as he picked up Anakin to keep him from getting anywhere.

“Hey put me down! I need to go tell Miraj Scintel that I love her!” Anakin cried, “Rex, do you think she’ll like me back.”

Rex was looking at Anakin as if he were contagious, but he just gave him an awkward nod and a, “Sure mate.”

“I’ll take him to Madam Nema,” He told everyone and gave a steady gaze at Obi-Wan, “He’ll be fine. In the meantime I’m sorry, but it looks like we’ll have to cut this party short.”

Before long the room had thinned out leaving just Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and a mess to clean up.

“You don’t have to help, Ben,” Satine said with a sigh as she pulled out her wand, “It’s your birthday after all.”

“And leave you to do all the work? I don’t think so,” He stood beside her as they both pulled the streamers off the ceiling with their wands. Cody made short work of sending all their food back down to the kitchens. The three of them moved the desks back to where they were meant to before collapsing together at a section of desks in the center of the room.

“Who knew a party would be so much work?” Cody complained as he picked a bit of streamer out of his hair.

“I did,” Obi-Wan answered quietly, “I really appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure I like having all the attention on me.”

“The point of a birthday party is just to be around those that love you,” She told him, “Yeah it’s a little embarrassing being sung too or opening presents, but there are some things in life you just have to accept.”

“I’m not sure,” He would really rather not make such a big fuss about something as mundane as the day he was born. Satine gave him a rather scathing look for a moment before sighing deeply and reaching into her bag.

“Do you remember when I was late coming back to school?” She asked them.

“Only every day,” He complained and Cody just nodded. She sized them both up before pulling out her wallet and, as if it was physically painful for her she pulled out a thin white card.

“I was late because I was getting my driver’s license,” She set the card down in front of them, revealing Satine in rather bad lighting. On the right was a list of identifying information and quite interested, Obi-Wan picked it up to look at it.

Cody immediately had broken into a fit of laughter, catching the end of Satine’s fiery glare, “It looks like a mug shot!”

“That’s why I wasn’t too interested in telling anyone!” She snatched the card out of his hands and Obi-Wan just blinked looking over at her.

“What’s wrong with it? You look lovely,” That comment just made Cody laugh harder and earned him Satine’s glare as well.

“It’s a bloody terrible photo!” She shouted shoving the thing far back in her wallet and stashing it back where it belonged, “The point is,” She emphasized, “Sometimes you have to suffer through some embarrassment in life, I doubt having a birthday party is as terrible as having that as an identifying picture.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about it,” He looked between Cody and Satine. It showcased her hair and although she wasn’t smiling, in it he could see the softness in her eyes.

“You are unbelievable, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Satine’s face had gone red, “I show you the worst picture of me forced to exist and you still think being sung too is worse?”

“Let’s open presents!” Cody changed the subject quickly, shoving a shoddily wrapped gift into his hands and trying to whisper, “Come on mate, open it! She already has a mugshot, what’s going to stop her from murdering us.”

“Cody!”

#anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obitine #anidala #the clone wars #star wars #hpau #magical forces au

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sushiandstarlight · 3 years

Text

Cookies: Chapter 16

This chapter includes yesterday’s prompt “evergreen” and today’s prompt “lights.”

Previous Story: Of All The Beds In All The Hotels In All The World

Chapter 1-3 / Chapter 4 / Chapters 5 & 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

Read this chapter on AO3

Rated: G, light teen for suggestion, nothing explicit

It took some amount of time to get downstairs, what with the way Crowley pinned his angel to the bed. And then Aziraphale's wandering hands in the shower. And the way they wound up snogging each other senseless at the top of the stairs, almost winding up at the bottom by way of running afoul of gravity. By the time they made their entrance into the kitchen, hands linked, they were pink in the face and couldn't stop smiling at one another.

That was, until Aziraphale saw the pies lined up on the kitchen island: apple crumble, cherry lattice with sparkling sugar on top, and mince were all present but also accompanied by blackberry and peach. Aziraphale drew close and hovered over the pies, cooing about how beautiful they were. He reached out to touch one, but Edie smacked his hand with a spatula.

“Ow!” he yelped, yanking back his hand.

“They are for dinner tomorrow night,” Edie sounded deathly serious.

“Oh, alright, but they are beautiful,” Aziraphale sat on one of the barstools, continuing to admire them. Crowley recognized the rapt attention, remembering how Aziraphale had looked at him in the shower. He took a quick mental turn from that image before he was overwhelmed with the urge to grab the angel's wrist and drag him back to their bedroom.

“What have we got here, then?” Crowley sauntered to the counter, also admiring the pies. They were a thing of beauty. Gladys and Edie clearly had talent. Edie pointed out each type with the spatula and Crowley crowed, “you missed a couple, Angel. Off your game.”

“I was a bit distracted,” Aziraphale hmphed. Crowley approached his stool and spun it around to face him.

“You can only smell some pies over my mouth-watering aroma, then?”

“Or maybe you still smell like butter and sugar. It's distracting.”

“I've bathed!”

“I know, I helped!”

Crowley felt his face go crimson. He looked over at the ladies only to find them looking suddenly very busy facing the opposite counter.

“Maybe I'll be rubbing down with butter and sugar every day for you when we get home,” Crowley pressed his forehead to Aziraphale's and smirked at him.

“Oh, that would be a terrible mess on my sheets.”

“Tell me, in this vision are they tartan?”

“...yes.”

“No loss there.”

“Hey!”

“That's okay, Angel,” Crowley wagged his eyebrows at him, “they're tartan in my vision, too.”

Aziraphale smiled and wiggled happily on the stool.

“Alright, that's enough mushiness near the pies, you're going to melt the pastry,” Edie swatted Crowley with a tea towel.

“Fine, fine. We'll move it along,” Crowley made a motion towards the sun room and set off for it. Aziraphale lingered, smiling bashfully at Edie and Gladys.

“You don't really mind, do you?” Aziraphale stood to leave.

“Nah,” Gladys winked at him and handed him a tiny mince pie, “Run along, now.”

Aziraphale smiled broadly and left, catching up with Crowley.

“Pssh, really?” Crowley had spotted the pie.

“Told you she likes me,” Aziraphale's smile was smug now.

“I think you're the favorite.”

“Do you want a piece.”

“Nah, I would rather watch you eat it.”

“I still don't understand what you get out of watching me eat,” Aziraphale sat on the loveseat, peering up at him. Crowley hadn't actually meant to say that out loud.

“Well,” he shrugged, going for casual, “I like to watch you take pleasure in things. I like knowing you're enjoying yourself.” He sprawled on the other side of the loveseat, managing to take up most of the room while Aziraphale sat up properly. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and waited, watching Aziraphale with a lazy smile on his face.

“Could you...” Aziraphale trailed off, looking away.

“Naw, now don't do that,” Crowley nudged the angel's knee with his own, “Whatever you want.”

“Oh, that's a list,” he looked back at Crowley, “I wondered if you might tip your glasses down while you watch me. I like watching you, too. Your eyes... they're so expressive.”

“Didn't know you liked 'em,” Crowley pulled his shades down his nose part way and peered at Aziraphale.

“I do. I like that you take them off when we're alone.”

“I've got nothing to hide from you,” Crowley watched as he took a small bit of the pie and hummed happily, “Except for Christmas.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes two of us.”

“Tomorrow, no secrets then.”

“Yes, I will feel better not keeping it from you.”

Crowley grunted, watching him take another bite and let out another hum, wiggling on the part of the cushion that Crowley wasn't currently sprawled over. Crowley kept watching him even as he finished, patting the sides of his lips with a napkin and brushing invisible crumbs off his trousers.

“It was one thing,” Crowley cleared his throat, but it did nothing to get rid of the gravelly sound his voice had dipped into, “before I knew what you sounded like when you... you know. Those little sounds you make, Angel, they would keep me up at night after our dinner dates. But, now I know...” He shifted in his seat, glancing at the door and pushing up his glasses.

“Maybe a little dessert is in order.”

“Dessert,” Crowley blinked, confused, “But you just had pie.”

“It really does devil with your brains, doesn't it?”

“What?”

Aziraphale stood and made for the door, leaving the confused demon still on the sofa as he turned and went up the stairs.

“You dummy,” Edie poked her head around the door frame, from out of nowhere, “he wants you for dessert! You best get up there.”

He should have been mortified, but instead he just smiled at her and hoped he'd willed down the color that wanted to rush to his cheeks.

She high-fived him as he ran past her.

After supper it was decided that they would all go out and have a look at the lights that Aziraphale had been diligently hanging outside the inn. Crowley was happy enough to look at them, but still reluctant on account of the weather. The snow had continued to fall and it was ankle-deep now. He shivered as he peered out the the front door.

“You're not going out like that!” Gladys was behind him, shoving a long black coat into his hands, “You'll catch your death. I insist.” She watched him as he put it on and buttoned it and then wrapped a red and green scarf around his neck enough times that his chin was nearly lost inside it. And then she handed him mittens.

“Really? Where on this planet did you find men's sized mittens?”

“I made them.”

“What? Why?”

“For you! You always look cold. You make me cold just looking at you sometimes.”

He put on the green mittens, even though they made him feel silly. Pretty much instantly his hands felt warmer, but he wasn't about to tell her that. One look from her, told him she already knew, though.

“See, I thought you might take better care of yourself if doing so meant using a meaningful gift.”

Crowley clutched his hands to his chest and leaned in to her, whispering, “I'll treasure them, really.”

“Don't much care for treasuring, I'll be happy knowing you're using them.”

Aziraphale bustled by them in a cream-colored overcoat. He also had knitted mittens, but they were white with faux fur around the wrists. He pulled on a matching hat and stood by the door.

“Are we ready to go have a look?” Aziraphale craned to look past Gladys, “Where's Edie.”

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” Edie appeared from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolates and passed them out. “No need to stand around out there freezing our buns off without something to keep us properly warm.”

“Finally, someone's speaking sense.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” she handed him his cocoa and patted his cheek- her hand was still warm from holding the cup- “if I'm the one speaking sense, we're in loads of trouble.”

Aziraphale opened the door and led them out into the parking lot. There wasn't a strong wind, but enough that it nipped sharply at Crowley's ears as he followed behind the others. He burrowed his face down into the scarf.

“Alright, turn back... now,” Aziraphale walked around and stood behind them as they turned back to the inn. They gasped and smiled and turned one at a time to congratulate him: The whole front of the inn was outlined in white lights, gently fading off and on at random. The walls were outlined in red and draped with net lights the same color. All the bushes were strewn with red and green lights.

Crowley was staring hard at the white lights, trying to discern a pattern to their tranquil flashing when he felt something warm and fuzzy slide over his ears. He jumped, reaching up to find earmuffs.

“Wha-”

“Consider it an early Christmas present,” Aziraphale hugged him from behind. There were too many layers to feel the angel's warmth and Crowley felt the pity of it. Still, his ears had stopped stinging.

“Thanks,” he leaned back and kissed the angel's chilly cheek and shivered dramatically, “The lights are beautiful.”

Gladys appeared in front of them and clutched both of their chins.

“You boys have made this Christmas so special, you know that right? We couldn't have done all of this without you.” She was looking at them very earnestly from beneath the low brim of her knit cap. It had a giant pompom on top that was wiggling with the light breeze.

“I think we're thoroughly enjoying our stay,” Aziraphale's voice sounded a little pinched.

“I think we'll all enjoy our stay more inside,” Crowley burrowed up to his sunglasses into the scarf around his neck, “Not that the lights aren't pretty.”

They went back inside, still sipping their cocoa.

“By the way,” Gladys said as she unbuttoned her coat and hung it on one of the hooks by the door, “I got a call from the group holding the bake sale. All the baskets sold.”

“Oh, what marvelous news!” Aziraphale clapped his hands together happily.

“Someone, one person, bought all of them.”

“Wow, that's a lot of cookies for one person...” Crowley grumbled.

“And then donated the cookies to the orphans...” Gladys was eyeing them suspiciously.

“Don't look at me! I've been here the whole time,” Crowley squawked.

“I do wish I had thought of it, but I confess that I didn't,” Aziraphale looked honestly contrite.

“Whoever did it, it was an unexpected kindness,” Edie was still eyeing Crowley who shrugged at her.

“Anyway,” Gladys threw up her hands, giving up on having an answer tonight, “We all better get to bed. Santa's coming tonight! But he won't visit until we're all in our beds. Goodnight, boys.”

“Goodnight, Gladys. Edie.” Aziraphale nodded to them and they watched the two wander off down the hall.

“You,” Aziraphale turned to Crowley, “You bought all the cookies, didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“That was a wonderful thing to do.”

“Nah, it was alright.”

“The children will love them.”

“Come on now.”

“I think,” Crowley found himself being pressed against the nearest flat surface- the wall, thankfully next to the coat hooks,- and kissed sweetly, “You should be rewarded for your good deed.”

“Is it a good deed if there's a reward?”

“Sure, if the reward was unexpected,” Aziraphale practically dragged him up the stairs. As if he was going to protest.

Chapter 17 is now up!

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #star light-reads #30 days of prompts #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020 #of all the beds in all the hotels in all the world #sequel #christmas fluff #fluff #oi at this point even i'm like 'get a room guys'#but wait they do have a room #it's the honeymoon suite #might as well make good use of that!

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not-a-space-alien · 5 years

Text

hey its me again wall of text sorry not sorry

k i saw your little treatise justifying zadr and yknow its a cartoon its not the worst thing ever of course nobody is gonna sue you for reblogging fanart or burn you at the stake or w/e and im glad you decided to open yourself up to a differing opinion but zim IS portrayed as an adult. there was even an unfinished episode where zim’s childhood and growing up training from start to finish would be shown so by the time of the pilot he is definitely a full grown developed adult by irken standards especially if hes a former member of an elite military force like the invaders. jhonen has said that the irony and sad comedy of zims character is that hes a grown ass man and a war veteran to boot who VOLUNTARILY goes to an elementary school every day and throws hands with an 11 year old boy who should be well below his notice because he’s that pathetic and desperate for validation that he’ll stoop to seeking it from a child. it also sets up a dynamic between them where dib is CHALLENGED by having to go up against an adult with way more experience than him while dib is just a child, so when he wins its more meaningful, which is a common trope in childrens fiction that an underdog young hero has to take down a powerful adult villain.

jhonen might joke a lot but he’s serious about this part of the characterization of zim and dib and he even went to great lengths to make dib look and act more like a kid in ETF (more emotional and naive, designed to look smaller/softer, going in depth with his relationship to his dad and sister and needing his dad to protect him at the end when he’s too overrun to fight alone) just to drive home the point of how young he is. it was a very deliberate move and jhonen knows what hes doing ESPECIALLY since he also left zim pretty much unchanged and also includes gags about zim’s relative maturity like animating him briefly grimacing because his joints are sore and the part where he pretty much gestures to his crotch and goes “theyre afraid to look at ALL-A THIS”. like you would not see jhonen do that sort of joke with an underage character ok. dont confuse his social awkwardness and self deprecating/trolling humor for not knowing the difference between right and wrong and not acknowledge when he means something sincerely because he doesn’t just clown on people and troll ALL THE TIME 24/7 hes a human, and times have changed with more awareness on issues such as the grooming of minors so he can go back on things he may have said in the past that he doesn’t agree with now or said by mistake. he has said enough times that zim is older than any human alive that its safe to take his word for it by now. judging by the one strip he did in JTHM about johnny murdering a pedophile who was about to prey on squee i think his stance on protecting kids is pretty clear. also i wouldnt put it past jhonen to have redesigned membrane to be more chaddy looking to divert the adult fandom’s attention away from dib and throw the fangirls a bone but thats a whole nother can of worms lol.

and the justification that zim is immature so hes essentially on dib’s level is a reversal of something lots of kids hear from either creepy or ignorant adults who tell them theyre “so mature for their age”. no matter how emotionally mature you are it wont ever compensate for the number of years youve been alive so that’s not very sound logic, and even in fic where theyre both adults it’s still pretty weird because it doesn’t erase their history where zim knew dib as a kid. that’s sort of like a grownup waiting with bated breath until a kid is “legal” so they can start dating. kinda like when jacob imprints on bella’s newborn daughter in twilight then having it handwaved away by saying he’ll wait till she’s grown up, which understandably drew a huge amount of criticism. it’s a loophole that might be mildly acceptable in some cases but the context leaves it colored with a residual ickiness that sets off some red flags for me and a lot of other people.

also you said zim is an alien and therefore the situation itself is unrealistic, but the reason invader zim’s writing resonates with people is because zim is written with very HUMAN emotions and motivations and part of the humor again is how irkens despite being aliens from another planet mirror some of humanity’s worst flaws such as being petty, gluttonous, willfully ignorant, arrogantly believing they are special and better than everyone else, easily manipulated by propaganda, all too eager to greedily colonize other societies etc making them not so different from us at all. so the premise out of context might not seem realistic but the idea of a sad burnout adult who doesn’t realize how humiliating it is to be consistently outsmarted by a kid less than half their age IS realistic and applicable to human interaction since we’ve likely all met someone like this before at one point in our lives for example a schoolteacher who has a personal vendetta against one or more of their students and has nothing better to do than antagonize them, or a really dumb parent that you fight with a lot.

another thing, i know you and other fans probably have a lot of sentimental value and nostalgia attached to zadr because you probably shipped it back when you were a kid yourself and you cant be blamed for something you liked as a kid, but youre an adult now, and you have to listen to the portion of kids in the fandom who dont like zadr and say without question that the age gap makes them uncomfortable. those kids ARE the priority. we’re grown up now and we have to put our feelings aside for them because that’s part of being responsible and mature. i feel like zim himself is a pretty good example of how not to act at our age [shrug emoji]

and anyway a lot of the same elements of zadr can be explored with zadf just as well with just as much potential for cute moments and as a bonus is it’s not creepy

You do bring up some good points, and I’m not saying you’re wrong... But honestly I’m still not convinced. I mean, stuff that Jhonen said, the thing is even if it’s the author saying it it’s still outside of canon, that’s the reason why Neil Gaiman got flack for Good Omens because they didn’t write an actual kiss or hug or hand-hold between Aziraphale and Crowley yet Neil Gaiman went on Twitter saying they were queer representation. I still don’t really put much stock into what he says because the unfinished episodes and Jhonen’s commentary don’t really change the dynamic that’s actually in the show. And again...Jhonen said if there were going to be romance in the show it would be Zim/Gaz, so he’s either a huge hypocrite or doesn’t view Zim as being incompatible with Gaz.

I do think it’s much better when Dib is an adult and it just makes more sense, and I actually do prefer zadf to zadr and if i were going to ever write fanfiction or make fanart it would probably just be zadf, just because i know this does have some stuff to think about and I totally respect that you have a different view of it, but i honestly just don’t see it that way. The analogy with Jacob imprinting on Bella’s child in Twilight isn’t really the same thing honestly. The author in that situation tried to make it not......that....by saying that imprinting isn’t always a romantic relationship thing, and that Jacob would be more of an older brother, but honestly that doesn’t really negate the impact of grooming that kid would have with Jacob around. The idea that Zim would somehow be grooming Dib seems really silly to me although you’re right, I think his characterization in Into the Florpus has evolved somewhat especially with regard to Dib wanting to get his father’s approval, but again Zim has parallels with that in trying to please the Tallest. the world-building and characterizations are inconsistent and scattershot at best. Like no, zim isn’t waiting for him to turn legal, that’s absurd, they’re nemeses coming at each other then learning to be friends. You’re right that that doesn’t have to be zadr but I still tag it as zadr so people can block it if they want to.

Like, I’ve seen people ship Zim with Professor Membrane instead of Dib. That seems very weird to me. that professor membrane would have a relationship with someone who literally goes to his son’s elementary school and who doesn’t know anything at all about human behavior and emotions.

I feel like with this discussion people don’t really understand the problem with age gaps. With age gaps, it’s not a matter of mature/immature, it’s about development. A ten year age gap sounds like a lot right? a 25-year-old and a 15-year old would absolutely have a predatory “relationship.” But a 35- and a 45-year old, that’s perfectly fine. Having a difference in age doesn’t automatically make the relationship unhealthy. so if Dib is 25 and Zim is [whatever the hell aliens years i still don’t really take Jhonen’s word for it bc he’s not consistent], that’s doesn’t mean it has to be bad. The thing about telling minors they’re “so mature for their age” to try and convince them that a person interested in them isn’t a pedophile is that we know a human being who is 15 isn’t developmentally at the same level as a 25-year-old regardless of their behavior. What is Zim? All we have to go on is how he acts, and he acts like Dib is an equal match, it’s not “he’s immature for his age,” it’s very unclear. Raw number of years isn’t the ultimate decider, for example in DnD lore elves reach maturity at, like, 100 years old so a 25-yo human trying to get with a 50-year-old elf would be predatory to the young elf even though the “younger” one is technically twice as old as the human. Do you see what I’m saying?

I also don’t really buy the idea that Invader Zim’s writing resonates with people because Zim is ~~so human~~. The guy steals a bunch of kid’s organs in one episode and flies into a tantrum over the slightest inconvenience. You have to be reading really deeply into it and dig into some old internet archives of things Jhonen Vasquez has said to paint it as realistic. You can do some interesting things with it wrt like, Zim being defective and starting to experience human emotions but that’s mostly fanon.

Well, you’ve given me some things to think about, thanks for explaining your side to me. I’m still going to tag things as #zadr so people can block if it can’t plausibly be categorized as zadf. I’m not actually making any fan content for Invader Zim so the point is kind of moot, but if I ever do I’ll definitely take this into consideration.

#invader zim #zadr #submission

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vore-scientist · 5 years

Text

In Which Yonah Gets a New Assignment & Sophia Gets a Teacher

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

(SFW G/t with vo/re mentions)

This is the official “first” story for Mystic Woods. THE START OF A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP (a very rocky start). Finally, I have written out the circumstances that brought The Princess Sophia and Yonah The Giant Wizard together! It also flashes back to Yonah’s Trial! Find out why he ended up imprisoned in the forest.

Content: Lots of GT. No actual vo/re but lots of vo/re-ish moments & implications of safe vo/re that has happened and more to come.

Content warnings: strong language! & There are some tense mentions of almost fatal in the flashback but no actual vo.re, fatal or even implied fatal happens. very dramatic (TM). It ends in a very sweet moment anyways. Kinda cheesy moment in my opinion. Also a silly sarcastic joke about fatal at the end of the fic itself.

--- The loud knocking at Sophia’s door tore her from her melancholic daze. A bit of drool fell from her mouth as she blinked into existence again. She was sitting at her desk, a half-assed and half-hearted needle-point project sitting on it, untouched for hours. At first she thought she had dreamt the knock, but it came again. Strange. It wasn’t a meal time, there shouldn’t be anyone at her door. “Is your Highness awake?” came the voice of her servant, Meyers, “His Majesty requests your presence.”

/Does he now?/ Even stranger. Her father never ended a grounding early; she still had a week of solitary left by her calendar. In fact she checked the chalk drawn calendar she had drawn on the far wall. Yep, still a week left. All the days past had big angry red exes through them. Picking up a piece of yellow chalk, she drew a “?” on the next empty day. She got up and walked to the door. “Yes Meyers, I’m awake,” she said, “and decent.” With a loud CLICK the door unlocked and opened, revealing Meyers who cringed at the sight before them. “You’re... Highness,” Meyers couldn’t get the words out. “What is it Meyers?” she demanded. They pointed behind her and to the left. She turned to face her full length mirror and groaned. She looked like shit. That would be the only way to describe her state. Not having to interact face to face with another human for 2 weeks, she hadn’t cared to keep up appearances, and was not expecting to do so for another week. Her dark thick just barely curly hair was more like a piece of road kill glued to her head, her current dress was covered in food and paint stains, most recently a new wet spot of drool on her bosom. Meyers prepared her a bath, and after she was clean, did her hair into a braid that reached her knees, and helped her into a nice clean gown. One that her father had gotten her for her last birthday. It was a light blue color with gold embroidery. Finally she was ready to face her father. At least, on the outside. She allowed herself to be lead out of the room. “So, are you being paroled?” sneered Sophia’s oldest sister as they passed in the hall. “That would be a first. I would lock you in the tower forever if I were queen.” “Eat shit Rosie,” Sophia spat, she wasn’t in the mood. So pissed was Sophia that she didn’t think to wonder what her older sister was doing here. It had been a few years, ever since she married her “true love” Prince Sol and had gone to live in his kingdom. Rosie wrinkled her brow and nose, and folded her arms, “Well, you’re as pleasant as ever.” “You’re one to talk,” came a man’s voice from down the hall. It was Daniel, Sophia’s older brother. He was followed by Ilana, one of her other older sisters. With their straight black hair, pointed faces, matching eye color/shape, and impressive height, they could almost be twins, but they weren’t. Ilana was older. Daniel smiled warmly and kissed Sophia on her cheek, and Ilana hugged her. “Wow look at us, all the elder siblings all in one place!” Daniel laughed genuinely, “How long has it been?” “Don’t know, don’t care” Rosie sneered, tossing her warm brown locks over her shoulder. While Daniel did seem to care, he was wise enough not to press the issue. So he turned his attention back to Sophia. “Glad to see you back in society again,” he said, “but I was sure you had another week to go, is father getting soft in his old age?” “If anything he’s gotten harder,” said Sophia, “It makes me worried for why he wants to see me.” “Well you did blow up the stables trying to cast... whatever it was you were trying to cast,” said Daniel, but his eyes shone with amusement. “You really need to stop all this magic nonsense Sophia,” said Ilana, her voice full to the brim with disappointment “you’re too old for childish fantasies. You’ll never get any offers of marriage if you carry on this way.” “I’m also too old for you to tell me what to do,” countered Sophia kindly. Ilana meant well, but she was a bit ditzy and old fashioned. And she had told Sophia the same thing every time she attempted magic, and every time it blew up in her face, which was most times. By now Ilana knew it was no use to try and convince Sophia to stop. Still, she never failed to tell Sophia off, even if she did it oh so politely. The threat of never being married was new, but not surprising, as Ilana had just been rescued by her own “true love” after she got “lost” in the Caves of Manic Rain. Ever since then her straight black hair had a shimmer to it. Daniel was still a bachelor, prefering to court royals in a safer, less deadly quest-requiring way. But it was much slower. Still, he went to a lot of parties. Sophia thought he rather liked designing each new extravagant outfit that just had to have because it would be a scandal if he wore the same thing twice. “Well I could care less what she does,” said Rosie, “the more she gets in trouble, the more likely she is to be disowned and that’s one less person who could inherit the sword.” Daniel rolled his eyes, “That’s not how it works and you know it, there’s always a chance it picks some distant cousin we don’t even know about.” “You’re highnesses, I really must get The Princess Sophia to His Majesty,” piped up Meyers, they had been standing silently next to Sophia the entire time. There was an urgency to their tone that silenced the royal children, allowing Sophia and Meyers to continue their journey. Not for long, however, since they ran into Sophia’s two youngest siblings. Relatively. Sophia was nearly 20, the youngest sibling, Molly, was 10. It was Molly that ran up to her, bouncing up and down. “Father let you out early!?” She asked, clasping her hands together dramatically. “It seems that way Molly” Sophia replied, ruffling her hair which was in two big ponytails. Molly looked up at Sophia with her unchild-like eyes that were imbedded in her round face, “I’m glad! It is wrong that Father locks you up just for wanting to learn magic!” But he does. Thought Sophia. He’s The King. It doesn’t matter that it’s wrong. Sophia’s smile strained. “Fathers prize stallion was kept in that stable, Sophia is lucky it wasn’t inside at the time,” said Yonatan, who was only a year older than Molly, but couldn’t be more different. An 11 year old who was stoic wasn’t abnormal, but usually they had experienced some sort of trauma, rather than being a pampered prince. His already square face made him seem older, like he was a dwarf. A skinny dwarf. But he was just a 11 year old boy. Or it would have been abnormal if a fairy hadn’t “blessed him” with intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. So for an 11 year old that meant the intelligence and wisdom of someone who was 15. Making him a bit of an asshole.

“I must go, father calls” she told them, and continued down the hall.

The door to her father’s office was open and he was at his desk, his crown set on his salt and pepper curls, reading glasses almost falling off of his nose as he read some important document. She sat herself down in one of the chairs. Normally princesses weren’t in his office. The chairs were stone and stiff to disarm people. He did not look at her.

“You set the stable on fire on purpose.” he said, in a low but quiet voice. It wasn’t a question, he was stating a fact.

She said nothing.

“You said it was an accident, that you cast the spell wrong. But you didn’t.”

She still said nothing.

“We can’t keep doing this Sophia,” he said, looking up from his paper at last.

For those not used to it, having to stare into the glaringly magical forest green eyes of the Mystic Woods King was always jarring. Surrounded by his warm brown skin it was as if he were a tree given human form. Because it was not his irises that were green (well, they were too, just a darker, green-ish brown). The “whites” of Ben’s eyes were filled with Woods magic. Sophia suspected that originally Ben had dark brown eyes, like she had. Before he became The King of the Mystic Woods.

But Sophia had never known Ben without his green eyes, which low light had a faint glow, and in darkness shone like sunlight through leaves. So she had no problem maintaining eye-contact.

“It was all fun and games when you were stealing books from the library. But Last time you joined a witch coven, and they were evil! You were lucky!”

Ok, that one she had to admit was a mistake. She had been so happy they didn’t care about her being royalty, that she hadn’t considered they were after her mystical royal blood.

“And before that… before that…” he was struggling to remember. “You grounded me for applying to the Academy of Wizardry,” she supplied. “I grounded you for Forging A Letter From Me to get in!” He didn’t raise his voice, much, but he did stress each word like a mallet on a gong. “Forging The King’s notary is high treason and a hanging offense!” “But,” he said, letting out all of his breath. Sophia perked up. Had he said ‘but’!? ‘But’ what!? Holy shit, had she won!? After all these years of sneaking around, being caught, and punished, rinse and repeat, had she won!? Maybe Daniel was right, maybe Ben was getting soft in his old age. “But, I think it is time I admit that I cannot stop you from learning magic,” No way, no way, nowaynoway! Sophia’s heart started racing. “And I would rather you not attempt to teach yourself destructive and dangerous spells just to spite me,” he continued. Stop beating around the bush!! Sophia was sitting up completely straight, her hands clasped in her lap, knuckles white. The force of her heart beat almost shook her from her seat. “I have found you a tutor.” She rocketed out of her seat and ran to hug her father, even though he didn’t deserve it. And then danced around the chamber. Before she ran out of energy and noticed her father still sitting their, stoic and frowny as ever. There was a catch. She stopped jumping and looked fearfully at her father. He looked past her. A guard entered the room, followed by another man. And the colored drained from Sophia’s face and out her feet. “Ah, Mr. HaEsh, right on time,” he smiled horribly. The largest man Sophia had ever seen entered Ben’s office. He was so big that his tall curly hat nearly brushed the top of the 3 meter doorway. If he had been any wider, he would have at to get creative with angling through the door. Standing up straight he towered over the princess and The King. He held his hands behind his back and hidden under his massive, bushy, but neatly tied, mane of jet black hair which ended in a neat point at the small of his back. By his wizard hat, and painfully garishly colorful wizard robes. This could only be a wizard. But where was his wizard staff? The wizard Mr. HaEsh looked down his strong nose at Sophia with cloudy dark brown eyes. He had a very sharply shaven goatee and sideburns that might as well be squirrel pelts glued to his face. They looked just as dead as his eyes. Despite being on the chubbier side, and with burly arms, he looked almost gaunt. His eyelids drooped behind thick rectangular spectacles, and an aura of greyness hung around him. Was he ill? Or maybe older than he looked? He looked between 30 and 40. He was followed by another guard. Adorned in silver plated armor with fractal engravings shaped looking like twisting plants, liquid emerald used for the filling, Sophia recognized them as Mystic Woodland Rangers, or mage guards, as they were commonly called. And they were high ranking too. What the fuck was going on. When Mr HaEsh spoke, his voice was distant, and higher than Sophia had expected. It still rumbled and shook Sophia’s very bones. She saw her father tense too. Who was this man? “You’re Majesty. has requested. my presence,” he said, his breath coming in short pathetic bursts “for all the trouble. this must be either dangerous. or interesting.” /Trouble!? Danger?/ thought Sophia. Her father coughed and adjusted his crown, “Hmf, yes. Mr HaEsh, I have a new assignment for you.” The wizard raised his brows but said nothing. “This,” Ben gestured to Sophia, “Is the Princess Sophia.” “It is a pleasure. to meet you. your Highness,” Mr HaEsh greeted her. She extended her arm and while he bowed and kissed it gently, he did not remove his hands from his back. His lips were oddly cold. He straightened up and looked back down at his king. “The princess desires to learn magic,” The King continued, “You are to be her tutor. She will be moving into your tower tonight.” “WHAT?!” both Sophia and Mr. HaEsh exclaimed. The air in the room changed in an instant. The greyness around Mr HaEsh was being strained by something, and the guards had tensed into combat-casting stances, magic circling their fingertips which were pointed at the wizard. King Benyamin remained calm, but an aura of power surrounded him too. One that scared and comforted Sophia. It was the magic of the Mystic Woods, and it always felt friendly, even if the situation was not. The King looked to the guards. “Please take the princess outside, I have additional details to discuss with Mr HaEsh,” he ordered. The guards eyes widened. “But sir,” one spoke, voice cracking, “The subject is never to be without guard even-” The magic flared up around The King, not in a threatening way, just to make his aura more powerful. “I gave an order, follow it.” “Yes sir!” said the guard and they both flanked Sophia who stood up a little too fast. “Father,” she said, curtseying and turning to leave. The wizard bowed to her again before she exited. “Highness,” he said, sending shivers down her spine. She looked back and saw, before the wizard’s hair fell over them again, the massive rune-scribed iron cuffs on his wrists. Then the door was shut and she was standing alone in the hallway. With the two guards. All three of them breathed enourmous breaths. Once, twice, three times, a fourth. A few minutes and they all had recovered, cold sweat ran down their faces. “I thought we were ash for sure!” one of the guards whispered. The other nodded. They started going back and forth. Sophia only caught bits and pieces. “Have you ever seen-?” “-wasn’t a guard yet-” “-for years! How do we know he didn’t -” “-I think he has he’s a-” “I cannot believe The King brought him into the castle! He isn’t safe-” “-two of us on staff! We are not enough to handle him if he-” “Locking himself in his office with that thing-” “-supposed to LIVE with it, she’ll be-” “Excuse me,” Sophia broke in. The guards stood at attention. “Who is that man?” The guards exchanged glances. “Does the princess not remember the trial from 6 years ago?” said a guard. It didn’t matter which. “There are so many trials, I do not remember them all,” she said, “elaborate.” “That thing, that man,” the guard’s voice shook, “is dangerous, he was put on trial as a dangerous entity who infiltrated The Kingdom and Wizard Academy! He should have been executed, but His Majesty showed mercy.” The guard was being obtuse on purpose, she could tell. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She might be shorter than the guards by a good decimeter, but she was a princess! They answered to her father, and thus to her. “Why is he dangerous?” Sophia demanded. The description was pulling at a memory but it was just beyond her reach. But that was when the door opened once more and King Benyamin walked out, with the wizard behind him, looking even more grim. The wizard glared at Sophia, as if he was trying to convey hatred but for some reason couldn’t. Now that Sophia knew they were there, she looked at the Mage Cuffs. As the wizard stared at her, something like hunger flashed in his eyes, but was gone quickly. The runes on the cuffs glowed a with iridescence, he stifled a cough, and the dullness returned. The Princess Sophia’s things had already been packed. The King had been planning this for a while it seemed, without her or Mr HaEsh knowing until now. All of Her belongings were handed to her in a single small case. And within an hour they were in a carriage heading out of the city. The guards came too, one sat next to Mr. HaEsh, the other next to Sophia, but directly across from the wizard. Mr HaEsh sat still, his head down, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. His hands still cuffed, his breathing regular but wispy. In a desperate attempt to liven the atmosphere Sophia made one attempt to engage in conversation. “Hey, wizard, I heard you’re a criminal,” She said, the wizard did not respond, “Well I’m a thorn in my father’s side. so who is being punished here, me or you?” “Hruh” was all he said, the corners of his mouth twitching up, but there was a faint flash of light from behind him and the guards instantly had their magic up. The one next to the wizard put his hands near Mr. HaEsh’s face. And the wizard sneered at them. “Careful,” he said, grinning, his mouth stretched to an unsettling degree, “I’m sure you’ve. heard the stories. And you don’t want. to have to get your fingers. regenerated. I’ve heard it’s painful,” and he snapped his teeth at the mage-guard’s hand. The guard flinched away, and the wizard laughed a hollow laugh. Sophia made no more attempts to converse with this obviously insane criminal wizard. An insane criminal wizard that she was being sent to live with. What on earth was her father thinking! Had he just threaten to bite a man’s fingers off??? This man would kill her in her sleep! Fuck fuck fuck! She looked out the window to distract herself and saw that they were heading towards the Mystic Woods. Great. Just great. A dangerous criminal who lived in a even more dangerous forest. Her father was definitely trying to kill her. The carriage, which had to have some enchantment on it, smoothly left the path and was steered into the woods. It must also have a Direct Spell, asking the forest for a path to their destination that would not move around, since it was only a hour before the carriage stopped. Sophia looked out. They were in a large clearing that contained a rundown looking tower at one end. It was surrounded by a fantastically well kept magical garden. A river ran along one side of the clearing, and a section had been blocked off to form a pool near the tower. The Sun was just starting to set behind the tower, splitting the light across the greens of the forest and glimmering off the river and colors of the garden. It would have been beautiful if not for the circumstances.

The guard next to the wizard shook as he took out a key and the wizard turned to present his cuffed wrists to the guard. Placing the key in the lock, the guard whispered a few words and the runes faded, the key turned clockwise, and the cuffs came off. A fog lifted from around the wizard. His dull black hair became warm and vibrant, his cheeks less sunken, his arms seemed to swell with renewed strength. No longer did he look almost 40, but merely his late 20s. His clothes became more saturated, his hat stood up, and he looked at Sophia once more. His once hollow eyes filled with fire and she swore they glinted orange for a moment as he drew a long satisfying breath through a wide smile. When he exhaled the air around his mouth was distorted. “I hate those fucking things,” he said, rubbing his wrists. His voice, once distant, slammed into Sophia. And into the guards, who were shaking more than ever. He looked at them and they cowered. “Gentlemen” he said, with eerie politeness, “as always it’s been a huge displeasure,” and he got up, exiting the carriage. It shook as his mass disembarked.

The guard who had nearly had his fingers bitten handed Sophia the case with her belongings and coaxed her out the door. When she had both feet on the ground the door slammed behind her and the horses were whipped into speeding off. Leaving her with the wizard. She decided she would not show any more fear. He may be some sort of monster, but he was clearly in her father’s employ, he couldn’t hurt her, a princess he was apparently hired to teach. Could he? She looked around for Mr HaEsh and spotted him by one of the fruit trees. It looked like standard apple tree, with golden-green apples. They were probably poison.

Mr HaEsh reached up and plucked an apple. These weren't normal at all. They were so big that the apple fit perfectly in his hands! He sniffed it and bit into it. The sound of the crisp crunch crackled in the air. Sophia walked over to him as he finished the apple.

“They never fucking feed me when I’m summoned for just a day.” he said, tossing the core aside and picking another apple. Ok so they weren’t poisonous. “I get called upon in the morning and I’m shipped out! Don’t stop to think if i’ve even had breakfast yet! And then they don’t give me anything.” He took a third apple.

As he vented his eyes started to glow again, joined by the roots of his hair, making his head look like a dying coal fire. Smoke gently billowed from his locks. Was this some sort of intimidation tactic? Eating apples and pretending to be made of fire?

After eating a total of five apples, but picking at least ten more and storing them in his hat, he finally said “ready to head inside?”

Actually she kinda wanted an apple, but he had taken extras. Surely he would give her one. So she followed him to the base of the tower, right below the window which was about fifteen (15) meters up.

“How-”

“The vines” he said, indicating the prolific and thick vines that grew up the tower. The vines with massive thorns.

“You go first,” said Sophia.

The wizard shook his head, “I need to be behind you in case you fall, the thorns aren’t real.”

Cautiously Sophia reached out and brushed a hand against the side of a thorn. It passed right through. The vine was real, the thorn was not. Clever.

She was grateful that Mr HaEsh took her bag, as she needed both hands to climb up. And up and up and up! It seemed as if she should have reached the top by now? Her hands were red and raw, she might not be able to hold her grip for much long and Oh. She had reached the window! Looking in she saw inside a single room, much bigger than it should be. Magic she reminded herself. This was a wizard’s tower after all! She heaved herself up and let her legs dangle into the room. Shelves with books and bottles and jars and thingabobs lined the walls, papers littered the floor, and there were three desks. One with a pile of books and writing materials, one with a small cauldron and utensils, and one that was piled with just junk. How could her dream have come true in such a nightmare-ish way? She looked down, it was probably a little over a meter drop to the floor and she hopped inside. The moment she crossed the threshold the distance from the windowsill to the floor became over 4 meters feet and she fell onto the floor with a thunk. The chamber was even larger than before, everything was 3 to 4 times as large as it had first appeared. But she wasn’t concerned with that, her legs were rattling from the impact and she was nursing her sore bones and muscles. *thup* And Yonah landed beside her, but with a lot more practiced grace. He dropped her case next to her, walking over to the giant desk. “Hey why the fuuuuu-“ but she didn’t get to say “ck didn’t you warn me” Yonah grumbled and from his sleeves drew out a beautiful staff. It was a dark red wood with gold engravings swirling up to a dark pink crystal ball at the end. He tapped the floor with his staff twice, the crystal ball flashed briefly and with a mighty POOF Yonah was over 20ft tall, perfectly proportioned to the rest of the room. He walked to his desk, opened a book, set up a magnifying glass, got out a piece of paper, and started writing. And Sophia remembered. How could she have forgotten? --- The twelve year old Sophia groaned quietly. She, Ilana, and her sibling sister Sasha had just finished their embroidery lesson and were doing their homework from yesterday’s poise and posture class. Sophia watched Ilana walk across a one inch wide plank of wood with a glass of water balanced on her head. She tensed and untensed her eyes to focus and unfocus them. “I’m BORED!” she groaned loudly, and Ilana yipped. She did not fall but the glass did topple over and smash on the floor. “Look what you made me do!” said Ilana as a servant ran to clean up the mess. She approached Sophia and held out her hand. Sophia looked at her own glass of water and held it up. Then brought it to her mouth and drank it. “hey!” “Let’s go watch today’s trial!” said Sophia, and Sasha who had been dozing off perked up. “We’re supposed to be practicing our poise,” Ilana said. “I didn’t invite you,” Sophia took Sasha’s arm as they left the room, the servants didn’t stop the. Ilana ran after them. Sophia gave her a hard look. “I’m the oldest! I can’t let you go without me,” she said. There wasn’t anything Sophia could do, so the three of them made their way to the throne room. They stopped off at the kitchen for snacks, and found their youngest sibling, Molly, stealing cookies. Molly demanded she be allowed to come too and bribed them with cookies so they couldn’t say no. When they got to the room the guards wouldn’t let them in. And they wouldn’t explain why, just that their father had a list of those allowed entry, and they weren’t on the list. Sophia didn’t push the issue; she knew another way in. Up the stairs, to the balcony. It was empty, they would be able to watch the proceedings without being discovered. And the proceedings were just about to start. The throne room wasn’t packed, but there was a lot of activity. The King, of course, sat on his throne, and along the walls stood the most colorful population Sophia had seen. There were the usual Law Masters and their Grand Law Master Diana Gluck, there was Sir Mordecai The King’s Voice, all wore dull reds, blues, blacks, and browns. Other members of the court stood around, talking excitedly, they had more color and variation to their garb but it was nothing compared to the wizards. There were at least 20 wizards. All in different colors in the most garish combinations and horribly designed robes. The floor looked like cheapest Jackson Pollock. The Voice walked over to The King and whispered in his ear and he called the room to quiet. The doors opened and the subject of today’s trial was brought in. A long procession of Mage Guards marched into the room, but their footsteps were drown out by the clanks and thuds of the shackled giant they had in tow. With a face full of black hair, and a messy head full to go with it, the giant looked wild. The patchwork clothes looked like they were made of the entire stock of prison uniforms. Sophia imagined that the giant must have eaten the prisoners to get their clothes. The giant’s eyes were bloodshot, lack of sleep or crying? His breaths came in short shudders, in fact the man was shivering. His cheeks were sunken, and his skin grey-ish. But it was the cuffs that really put the look together. Thicker than Sophia was and made a dark silver metal engraved with shining black runes. his hands were linked at the wrist and his ankles were chained together. With the same runic metal. Every so often the giant’s eyes would flash with a hint of fire, and the runes would glow with oily iridescence and the giant would cough and shiver harder. The giant was forced onto his knees, looking over the circle of guards at The King. Even though it was The Voice of the Court that spoke. “The accused, Yonah HaEsh, of an Undefined Class of Magical Being. He has been designated as Monstrous Being - Magical Humanoid - Hybrid Human With Fire Elemental Heritage,” rattled off The Voice. “He is charged with trespassing in His Majesty Benyamin’s Kingdom, classified as Invasion due to his status as a Giant, and Infiltration due to the extent of hiding his nature and the length of time this persisted. Mr. HaEsh disguised himself as a human and forged documentation to enter his Majesty Benyamin’s Kingdom and attend the Illustrious Academy of Wizardry. Mr. HaEsh frequently entered areas of The Kingdom from which monsters, most particularly giants, are strictly forbidden.” He looked right at the giant now, and his voice wavered for a second, “To verify for the record, your name is Yonah HaEsh?” The giant took a painful breath before answering “yes” “And your mother is Malaka HaEsh, a giant, your father Emmett HaEsh, a firewitch?” “yes” “Do you deny any of the charges as described?” There was a long pause. Everyone held their breath. “no” The Voice took a deep breath “The Court Recommends a sentence of execution, the standard for repeated invasion offenses.” Several of the wizards gasped. The giant hung his head. A few tears fell to the floor, splashing on the guards. “The Court now opens the floor to those who would argue for or against the court’s recommendation” A group of 6 wizards emerged from the crowd. From the matching formal robes, the smaller hats, and the less offensive, highly coordinated colors, they looked extremely professional. One of them, an older woman with white twists of hair and dark wrinkled skin stepped forward. “State your name, any title, and intention for the Court,” said The Voice. The woman adjusted her grip on her staff. It was polished dark grey with blue crystals imbedded in patterns and a silver cap in the shape of entwined snakes. At first her voice was too quiet to hear. She grumbled and a few of the crystal lit up. And her voice projected. “Sean Werthan, 50 years Grand Master Wizard of the Academy of Wizardry.” At her voice, the giant lifted his head and squinted in disbelief at the woman. But didn’t dare say or do anything else. “Myself and the following self selected faculty and students are here to argue in defense of the accused and trusts that His Majesty, King Benyamin of Orr and The Mystic Woods, who generously allows the Academy to reside within his realm, will act with logic and mercy.” The King leaned forward, The Voice spoke. “Did you not expel the accused from your Academy, Grand Master?” Hushed whispers flew around the room. The woman nodded. “I do not deny the action I took against Mr. HaEsh,” her piercing eyes were aimed at Benyamin, “Nor will we attempt to deny the charges of forgery and falsification, and classification of his heritage,” she took her eyes off The King to look at Yonah who did not meet her gaze. “However we argue against the charges of infiltration and invasion,” she said, “Which, given the circumstances and the conduct of the defendant, are unwarranted.” It was at this point that Sophia stopped paying close attention and let her mind wander. It wandered over the wizards that wore more distinct colors and fashions. She gave them all names and backstories and secrets. Still, she caught the gist of the proceedings. The giant was supposedly non-aggressive, for his entire time masquerading as human. An astonishing display of self-control seeing as Fire Witches are famous for their volatility. He intended no harm, and perpetrated none. Not at the school nor during any excursions into cities or towns. His only intent was to learn wizardry. His only crime was the law forbade his attendance, his only crime was being born non-human. The younger wizards all contributed to support her arguments, citing personal experiences from the specific to broad. It all seemed pretty convincing to Sophia. However, even if their claims were true, the Giant, as a now magically trained monster, was extremely dangerous. And he had broken the law, knowingly, deliberately, frequently. Every time he stepped foot in a city or town. Technically even the Academy was “off-limits” and illegal but they were more inclined to let magical beings roam around. They did not however, let them become students. “We will now deliberate on the fate of the accused, Mr HaEsh,” said The Voice. The King and the Law Masters left to a back chamber. After a few minutes the tension had died down enough for people to start conversing and moving around the room. The wizards who had defended the giant attempted to talk to him, but were stopped by the guards. “No one may approach the accused,” they said. “But he’s our friend! He might die and we might never get to speak to him again!” ohhhh a conflict! Sophia started to pay attention again. Perhaps the wizards would start a scene! “Not my problem,” said the guards. “No, but she is,” said a wizard, pointing at the giant. The guards turned around. The blood in the guards ran cold but not as cold as Sophia’s as from her vantage point she saw Molly approaching the giant! How had she slipped past the guards?! When did she leave the balcony?! /SHIT/ As the girl got closer to the face of the giant everyone went quiet. At a meter tall and that close to the giant’s mouth… Everyone was thinking it. Even with his hands and legs bound and magic suppressed, he could easily gobble up the princess. And he was facing death at the hands of The King. - Tired, cold, and starved, the scent of the girl hit Yonah as a wave of warmth and possibility. And hunger. He opened his eyes to a world blurred by tears and because his glasses had been taken away. That didn’t make sense to him. He blinked away the tears and squinted down. It was a princess, and she smelled really good. Really sweet. They had not fed him for days. A monster like him probably wouldn’t be given a last meal. And this was the daughter of The King who would give the order to end his life.

And it would be so easy. She was so small. While he had never eaten a human before, and could barely fit one in his mouth, let alone swallow one whole like proper giants were known to do; he was certain to have no problem swallowing this child.

No.

That thought was expunged as soon as it came. This was a child!!! He couldn’t eat a child! But her smell persisted, drilled itself into his brain.

His stomach growled. He heard the gasps from the people around him and he drew himself away from the girl. He couldn’t actually move away but he sat up so that she wasn’t so hear his face. The guards all started to draw up magic, but they didn’t make any moves to save the princess.

“Hello big man!” the girl’s high voice pierced the silence. Still the guards did nothing.

/What they fuck were they even good for?/ thought Yonah. They should remove the child from the presence of a hungry giant, he had even backed off to give them room. /Assholes!/ Did they want him to eat her? Let an innocent girl die just to finally have a real reason to kill him. Or maybe they were too scared. /Cowards!/ These were the best Mage Guards in The Kingdom? They were shaking in their armor.

“H-hello,” he whispered.

“You look terrible!” she declared. He couldn’t disagree. His stomach rumbled again.

“You’re hungry!” she was right about that. This was just torture. Maybe he could… just hold her in his mouth. Maybe as a hostage? No no no. He wouldn’t be able to resist swallowing.

The princess was rummaging through her pockets, “Want a cookie?” She produced a cookie, and smiled in a horrifyingly disarming fashion. Finally the guards started to try coaxing the girl away but it was useless. She was fixated on him. Her brilliant brown eyes wouldn’t leave his own dull ones. And he did want a cookie. He needed a cookie. Deserved a cookie. Cookie. He leaned forward and opened his mouth. No one made a sound. Yonah was holding his breath too, not wanting to scare her. She reached out to place the cookie into his mouth but stopped. Had she realized the danger she was in? Her free hand went back into her pockets and produced another cookie. “You need more than one!” she said, “because you are so big!” and she started placing cookies on his tongue, taking cookies from her pockets one at a time until they was a small cluster. “All gone! No more cookies!” she turned her pockets inside out. Yonah allowed himself to smile as he sat back up, closing his mouth. The cookies were small, but fresh, and made in a royal kitchen. They had been heavily spiced with ginger and were full of sweet almonds. He let them melt in his mouth but for the girl’s gratification he made small chewing motions and swallowed. “Thank you.” She yelped with joy and sped off. - The guards parted to let The King’s Youngest run into the arms of her father who had been standing, frozen at the scene before him. He had walked in just in time to see her start placing cookies on the giant’s tongue. He hugged her tight and picked her up. “Daddy!” she yelled, “I gave the giant man cookies!” “I saw that,” he said, his fake smile so practiced that his daughter had not yet learned to tell. The King stood there, holding his daughter, looking at his prisoner. The guards had not reformed their circle. There was no one in between them. Molly waved at the giant. He stared hungrily back. They really should have fed him. And The King sighed. The wizards were right. For all the things they get wrong, for all the times they act without thinking. They were right this time. This monster, this man, didn’t deserve death. But his Law Masters couldn’t think of an alternative. There was no room for him in the dungeons and they had no prison large enough. Neither was it practical to use up so many mage guards for a 25/8 watch. And finally, there was no way they could keep him cuffed forever. The drain wasn’t just on magic; it was on life force. He had been cuffed for three days already, and he was sickly. He was truly amazed at the restrain the giant had shown, the mind still sharp and in control. If only he had someplace to keep him. Someplace he wouldn’t need guards, or cuffs.

A tickle of forest magic reached into his mind. “Mr. HaEsh,” he said, agreeing with the forest.

The Voice straightened up, ready for the signal to give the sentence, but the signal didn’t come. The giant’s eyes flicked to The King. Ben knew he made the right choice. “I would like to offer you a job,” he said, smiling wickedly. The confusion in the room was palpable. The Law Masters were in crisis, The King had NOT discussed this with them. “And if you take it, you life will be spared.” ---

Ohthegods. Ohthegodsohthegods. Sophia looked up at the giant, who was larger than she remembered, even back then when she was smaller. Ohfuckohfuck. She should be scared but she wasn’t. “Hey! HEY!” cried the princess. But the wizard ignored her, even as she ran up to his feet and kicked them, and pulled at his wizardly robes. Finally she just climbed up to the desk, making use of the thick embroidered designs on Yonah’s robe. Even as she hung off of piece of clothing on Yonah’s chest, he didn’t acknowledge her. After she jumped onto the desk she collapsed, panting. “If you’re going to live here you’re going to have to become a better climber” said Yonah, still not looking at her, and still writing. She walked over to stand under the magnifying glass. The wizard looked back at the book and laughed at the enlarged head of the princess, staring up at him with a weird combination of confusion, excitement, and fury. “You! You! I-“ Sophia stammered. Yonah put the quill in its stand and looked down at the princess, trying not to laugh too hard. “Yes? Princess?” He smiled wide, eyes sparkling with feigned interest and real annoyance. He hissed out the “cess” in princess, blowing a stream of hot air over Sophia, really hot air smelling like someone had fanned a campfire in her face. The glass fogged up. “You’re Yonah HaEsh!” she said, “I was at your trial!” “Were you now? I don’t remember you being there,” not that he liked to remember any of that day aside from… the princess and the cookies. Sophia was too old to be the cookie princess. “You almost ate my little sister!” there was no fear in her voice or her face. Maybe she was still processing. Ah, now that made more sense. And he wasn’t going to deny the accusation.

“You’re the giant Evil Wizard!”

“Ughhhhgggg” Yonah pinched his nose, “I’m not. I’m not Evil. You’re father hired me as an ‘Evil Wizard™’ because the actually Evil Sorcerer who used to live here mysteriously disappeared, and he needed a replacement. It’s just a title. I’m also a Royal Wizard.”

Sophia snorted and folded her arms, “No other Royal Wizards live in Evil Wizard Towers… and”, as she remembered more, “They don’t have stories from adventurers that come running out of the forests yelling about the magic giant who tried to eat them.” She remembered more and she paled, “One of them claimed you DID eat them, but- then how,”

It was Yonah’s turn to snort. “Adventurers? They were thieves. Idiots. Tasty though,” he licked his lips and Sophia backed away. Not that there was anywhere to run to, being on his desk.

“I let them go! They’re mostly desperate teens forced by their wicked mothers to risk their lives stealing from a giant. I said I’m not Evil. I even try to give them money before they run. They don’t always take it. Well, sometimes they run before I can give them any.”

That sounded suspect to Sophia, she would believe it when she saw him do it. (And she would, eventually). For now, he was an Evil Wizard. That was his official title. And looking back at the past few hours, he hadn’t seemed particularly good. And she was his captive. All her life she had been avoiding a classic fairytale scenario but she’d ended up in one anyways. Even if it was highly unusual. This was going to be fun, if she played the game right.

“Hey,” she said, after Yonah had gone back to his notes. He sighed and looked at her, “Are you going to eat me? And if you do will you let me go or just kill me? Is that my father’s plan? Have you wipe me off the face of this fucking planet?”

Just with her question the giant’s stomach growled. He retrieved three apples from his hat, now minuscule in his giant hand, and tossed them in his mouth like little candies. “I’m still deciding.”

Sophia really couldn’t tell if he was serious. Evil or not, he was a jerk. But it didn’t matter, because she had remembered one final thing.

Possibly the most important thing.

She looked down at the book Yonah was reading. It showed diagrams and symbols and letters in other languages, and words she couldn’t begin to comprehend.In fact it hurt her brain to look at them. They were magical. He was magical. He was a academy trained wizard.

“So,”

She picked up the book, and looked at it as if she could actually understand the words. Her brain begged her to look away from the migraine-inducing patterns and script, but she wanted the dramatic effect.

“When do lessons begin?”

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! for more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story, or go to my blog and search mystic woods story! ]

#safe vore #soft vore #giant tiny #giant/tiny #sfw #mind the content warnings

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thegreatpowalski · 5 years

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🍐 - How many ships have you considered but rejected for your muse?, 🍋 - Does your muse complain about things to you? If so, what?, 🍓 - What’s your sweetest rp experience so far?, 🍌 - What drew you into the fandom in the first place? (Fandom specified: Star Fox)

MUNDAY MEME | Accepting

🍐 - How many ships have you considered but rejected for your muse?

As I answered in my Peppy blog, Leon has yet to have a ship I have rejected that I considered (though so far, even ships I considered have yet to happen either, lmao). With that said, Leon is deliberately written to be very difficult to romantically ship, and not just because he's a sadist and a murderer. Leon has a MOUNTAIN of issues which anyone who wants to ship with him is just asking for trouble, and being his emotional support or trying to help him overcome them will drain that person out to the point of no return. Even if I can think of a few ways of how to make the ship work, it is entirely dependent on that person's professional relationship with Leon as well as personal.

🍋 - Does your muse complain about things to you? If so, what?

Oh, god, all the fucking time. Beyond the things all my other muses complain about to me like my flakiness, my cruelty, and inconsistent work, Leon specifically complains over how I treat him as a Star Fox character... and that I'm somehow still stuck in 2005 (the last time I wrote/drew anything for him before I returned to it in the Tumblr RPC). And the fact that I am actually deliberately holding back how vicious he can be. I try to keep my Leon muse's explicitness level of violence and sadism generally to the degree I can expose a 12 year old minor can handle, to keep with the fact that Star Fox is, ultimately, intended for all ages. But the GRIMDARKEDGY 15 year old me wants to go over the top without taking into account the gravity and seriousness of certain actions when writing a violent and sadistic character. So I have to keep that in constant check. All while yelling at my Leon to fucking behave.

🍓 - What’s your sweetest rp experience so far?

So far, it's when Leon was given that April Fool's prank by Miki! Because for once, he actually, truthfully, and genuinely laughed and NOT want to murder someone for doing something silly at him at the same time. A real and genuinely laughing and smiling Leon when he’s not being a sadist is a rarity.

🍌 - What drew you into the fandom in the first place? (Fandom specified: Star Fox)

Nostalgia, mostly. No, really. This element in particular is WHY I try to keep my writing of Star Fox more-or-less kid friendly: there was this spark, that magic I had when I first played the N64 game as a kid and, upon discovering the Internet, tried to find all those old school websites in hopes to join the fan community like sfx64.com and the Rare Extreme forums. None of the fandoms I was in has the magic the Star Fox franchise has for me, not even other ones I really love and enjoy like Legend of Zelda or Punch-Out!!.

A lot of that magic was rooted in how Star Fox 64 was groundbreaking for its time: it had fully-voiced spoken dialogue and the Rumble Pak, which, for a stupid kid like me at the time, engrossed me into the setting like no other game did. And there was the basic fact that the characters were animals. I love animals. I loved researching them, I love the sciences behind, I loved reading up folk tales, fables, and myths revolving around them. By the time Star Fox 64 was given to me, I was on a HUGE research binge on birds and reptiles, so naturally, who were my most favorite characters at the time? Falco and Leon. I mean, I loved Falco from Day 1 of playing the game, but upon seeing Leon when I came into Fichina, I was jumping on my seat SCREAMING "OH MY, A CHAMELEON!!

TL;DR, that magic Star Fox had on me as a kid hasn't died yet.

#[Meme]#oooh this is long I'M SORRY #[OOC]#bambino-muses

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nastyaphrodite · 5 years

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Mother Tongue - Demetria Martinez

fyi one of the most poetically written books I’ve ever read, quotes are too good to lose to time.

(will be tagged personal, but this is not personal ...)

pg. 4: and I was one of those women whose fate is to take war out of a man, or at least imagine she is doing so.

pg. 5: before his arrival the chaos of my life had no axis about which to spin, a center far from God that I asked for forgiveness in advance.

pg. 12: Everything else is remembering. Or dismembering. To create a man out of blanks that can never wound me.

pg. 15: From day one I looked for ways to graft a piece of myself onto him, to become indispensable. My gestures were perfectly timed, touching his hand, twisting my hair, excusing myself to touch up my lipstick---ordinary actions that would reverse the tides of my life as in the theories of physicists who say the dance of a butterfly can cause volcanoes to erupt.

pg 16: Love at first sight, this how I explained the urgency that would later shed its skin and reveal pure desperation. Some women fall in love in advance of knowing a man because it is much easier to love a mystery. And I needed a mystery---someone outside of ordinary time would could rescue me from an ordinary life, from my name ... a blessing that had become a curse. At age nineteen, I was looking for a man to tear apart the dry rind of that name so I could see what fruit fermented inside.

pg. 19: Yes, from the very beginning I wanted him. In that time of my life, men were mirrors that allowed me to see myself at different angles. Outside this function, they did not exist. It was a supreme selfishness, the kind that feeds on men’s attentions, a void flourishing in a void. **** In the end, I had no choice but to love him. Desire was not good enough. Love would ripen in the light of time we spent together, like an arranged marriage. Except that I was doing the arranging. And calling it fate.

pg. 20: I swear to God the moment I laid eyes on him I knew he was The One. And it can’t be a coincidence—that he arrived on the scene just as I was asking the universe whether or not there was more to life than just holding down boring jobs. I’d been so depressed. Now everything has changed. Still, I know I should slow these feelings down. Or else I’ll want to act on them—which always ruins everything. I’ve got to remember I can’t “make” anything happen beyond doing the footwork for some greater purpose that may be trying to manifest here. Maybe I’m supposed to just be his friend.

pg. 22: It’s like I’m going for longer and longer periods of time forgetting I’m depressed. Which maybe is a definition of happiness.

pg. 23: Peace. Joy. Openness to the future. How else can I describe what I’m feeling except for the big “L” word, which I don’t dare say out loud. Because it’s like yelling fire in a theater. Men flee and my girlfriends say to me, you fool.

pg. 26: Very often, when I try to remember those days, everything comes to mind except for memories of myself: what I looked like or said or felt. This is where it gets painful. You see, memory does not always serve me. It seeks images and feelings to hook on to, but at times encounters only voids. The facts are easy enough to recite. *** I fled the world, went inside, ceased to feel. You could say I fell asleep. There was no mystery to it. Quite simply, it was easier to sleep and pretend to be awake than to stay awake and pretend to be strong. *** They had words for women like me. Insane fell out of favor as did nervous breakdown. Clinically depressed was, I believe, in vogue. But ask any woman who has had times in her life when she was not all there. She will say she was asleep. And women who fall asleep and don’t know why lack a plot line; this is the secret source of their shame. So I concocted a plot of my own, orchestrating what I could until characters began to say and do things I had never imagined, me included. To prove the gods at least were interested in me, I courted disaster, set out to love a man I knew full well would go away. Falling in love was a way of pinching myself. It proved I was alive only on that thin line between drama and trauma. I handed my body over ... like a torch to help him out of his dark places. I felt no shame. I was utterly unoriginal. To love a man more than one’s self was a socially acceptable way for a woman to be insane.

pg. 32: It was like taking one last look around a hospital room where someone I loved had died. And I cried, I couldn’t stop, it was a surprise. I thought my arroyo of grief had long ago dried up, leaving only an imprint of the storm.

pg. 49: I was young, future tense came naturally to me: Iré, irás.… I will go, you will go. I have always lacked talent for living in the here and now, and back then I was easily transported into luminous, unobtainable futures.

pg. 55: Where others saw indigo, I saw blue; where others saw teal, I saw green. It’s the draining away of color that happens in a woman’s life when she can’t name her own reality. It is only now that I am able to go back and color in the pale places, creating a mural on the walls of the life I now inhabit.

pg. 59-60: The truth is, some of our tenderest moments are the ones I am least likely to remember. It has to do with what I said about sleep, how women like me sometimes flee, letting loving words or glances melt on the hot pavement of some nameless fear. So forgive me if I embellish; even a conjured memory is better than no memory at all if you would dare to give your life what the world did not, a myth, a plot. Besides, I never intended to reconstruct him from memory, just from love, which may be the only way anyone can ever hope to get at the whole truth.

pg. 61: I knew the name but not the man.

pg. 63-64: Now I have reason to improve my Spanish. I have a word and a way of life to conjugate: Quiero, quieres, quiere, queremos.… To want and to love, the same thing! God, make this thing last. Make it last. I sound crazed, I know, but with good reason. My period’s due any moment, and I have found true love. The kind that pulls all of life in one direction. It’s too much. Already, his presence in my life is helping me forget all the sadness (what was it about?) that pulled me down for so long before he came. *** The thought of being with him forever is intoxicating. But I’ve got to be careful. I’ve got to stay in the present. The minute I get hung up on the idea of forever, on what will happen tomorrow, I ruin everything.

pg. 65: But I don’t need sleep, I don’t need food, just you, I answered. I unpeeled myself from him, removed myself like a bandage. The cruelty of limits stung: the need for sleep, food, a paycheck however small. If an hour were a house one could move into for good, I would have built a wall around the 2 o’clock hour, a brick wall arrayed against the disfiguring fury of the future.

pg. 66: We opened each other up like sacred books, Spanish on one side, English on the other, truths simultaneously translated.

pg. 68-69: But I’m deceiving myself again. Lying. For a long time after (he) I continued to believe a man could touch my essence, make me whole. All that time I could have been writing, touching the fires of my being and returning to the world, purified and strong. *** You see, I was one of those women who is at her best when she wants something very badly. The mating dance, the yearning and flirting, surrenders and manipulations—I was good at that, so good at the pursuit that when I actually got what I wanted, terror appeared. Terror that wore the silly mask of disappointment.

pg. 73: The few friends I had during that spell of my life quit calling; the word must have gotten out that (I) was in love. They knew I wouldn’t come out of the house, the house I drew with crayons, a house of primary colors I called love. The first time I fell in love, friends tried to tell me it was not real. To prove them wrong, I drew a keyhole on the front door and invited them to look through to the other side. See for yourselves, I said.

pg. 76: It’s dangerous for a couple to promise to stay married until they die. It’s better to vow to stay together until the marriage dies—and to do everything in their power to keep it alive. If you don’t think of marriage as a plant, fragile and in need of attention, then you’re asking for major trouble.

pg. 77: That’s what I hate about love. Bit by bit you start to give things up. You become like a good parent. But I love him so it’s all worth it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

pg. 81-82: Unfortunately (or fortunately?), wounds will often start healing even if you don’t want them to, even if you would rather die quietly in the corner of a cell. The body’s will to live sometimes is greater than that of mind or spirit.

pg. 86: Do I just let things continue until they fall apart? The warmth of her flesh is all I have to make me forget. But alcohol does the same thing. Am I using her? Or is she using me each time she looks at me and loves what is not there?

pg. 87: No, I haven’t forgiven myself for being disappeared from myself any more than I have forgiven him.

pg. 88: He carved that question mark into my heart and kept watch over it until I could wake up and cry out.

pg. 89-90: Things began to happen. There were times he didn’t call, times he didn’t say I love you, nonevents that hurt in little ways, like paper cuts, but that added up. It could be these nonevents had happened all along, the normal ups and downs of relationships. But at a certain point, I began to perceive that he was pulling away from me and thinking about other things. And fear ate at my heart like battery acid. But it’s very likely that I only imagined him pulling away, imagined the whole thing. You see, the fear I am best at is always based upon a myth. *** ... assumption that to survive one sometimes must flee all that is loved. This is what terrified me. His body was branded with the equation, love equals flight.

pg. 94: You see, real love is quiet as snow, without chaos, hard to write about.

pg. 95: They were not like the white God I’d had to kill, that women like me must kill if we are to have any hope of ever finding God. Nothing replaced Him for a long time. But looking back now I can see that the growing chaos inside blazed away dead growth, clearing a space, however violently, for God to be reborn.

pg. 96-97: There were so many moments I would rather not talk about but in this dark night of remembering, they are blooming like night flowers. *** When he didn’t call, my world shriveled. Fetal position. Blistered finger pad. Or when he called and didn’t say, I love you, I shattered, then mistook a piece of me for the whole, a mistake that disfigures women’s lives time and again. But I lacked the nerve to tell him how I was feeling.

pg. 101: Now, as I write this, I can’t remember the real me. It’s terrifying, that you can love someone so much that you lose your own self in the uproar. I can’t remember the me who loves September, who loves to walk or read.

pg. 117: But every woman should have a special place inside where she can think, where no man is allowed, a place that will, you know, endure. Why do you think I took up letter writing? No man is worth falling apart over. Take it from me.

pg. 146: love could not be used like a cage to make a man stay. What if the universe now was telling me that it might take even greater love to let someone go? But I was not capable of detachment.

pg. 155: And as it is at times with bones, my heart needed to be broken and reset properly so it could carry me through life.

pg. 163: I’m tired, frightfully tired. Like snake venom, this story’s medicine had to be drawn from my own body. Maybe you won’t even read this, I don’t know. Long ago I began this tale for reasons I could not yet articulate, maybe for no reason at all. *** Promesas are as dangerous as skydiving, leaps into thin air. Nothing frightens me more than an answered prayer. And nothing taxes a body more than giving something back to God. This is why I am so tired, why I have spent this day crying in my room.

(4-2-19/4-2-19)

#personal #book #quote #mexican-american writer

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paene-umbra · 5 years

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i accidentally deleted the anon for this and i have no idea how to get it back BUT somebody asked me to answer all the questions on the ask meme

END OF THE YEAR ASKS FOR 2018:

(disclaimer: this is going to be so sappy and emotional because I did so many amazing things this past year that I am so incredibly proud of and there will definitely be too much information shared but I don’t care! I can do what I want!)

1. what is one thing you’re very proud of having done this year?

- in 2018 I am proud of cutting my father mostly out of my life. he was the source of so much pain and anxiety and trauma and cutting him out has lifted a huge weight off my shoulders and kickstarted my healing.

2. what is one thing you feel you could have done better?

- I could have done better dealing with friendships. I was so incredibly stressed out for a long time and I let my frustration bleed into my relationship to the point where being around friends and groups was too emotionally draining. I dropped a lot of friends that deserved better and in 2019 I plan on rekindling relationships and giving my friends as much love as they deserve.

3. what do you hope to do better next year?

- since it is already 2019 (whoops) I have a lot of resolutions that I am planning on implementing this year. I am going to put in more effort towards maintaining my mental health while also balancing my classes, work, and friends. I want to get close again to the people I used to be close to.

4. what was something scary you faced and overcame this year?

- in 2018 I started to address a lot of the problems that were contributing to my poor mental health. I began really looking into why I was so afraid of real emotional connection with other people and trying to understand the blockages that were holding me back from being the best version of myself. for the very first time I was able to confront the fact that I have forcing myself to suffer in silence for the sake of my appearance and reputation. for the longest time, I could not stand the possibility of anyone knowing that I was hurting so much because that would have meant admitting that I was being hurt by people who loved me, so I prioritized the way that they felt instead of myself. I tried so hard to pretend that I was stable and well-adjusted because it was easier than confronting the way I let people treat me and all of the hard work that I would have to do to try to heal from my pain. I always thought I had to hide the bad parts of me to be the perfect daughter but hiding something like mental illness doesn’t make the pain magically go away. I’m not a lesser person for being mentally ill. I deserve to be happy and to get the help that I need, and it is not my job anymore to coddle the feelings of the people who hurt me. it was terrifying to admit that I was completely broken for so many years, but I am endlessly proud of finally being able to acknowledge that and start putting myself back together.

5. what did you think would be scary and then was not?

- I thought that speaking in front of crowds was terrifying in theory but after actually having to do it several times for my job, I realized that I have important things to educate people about and that speaking in large groups is the best way to teach them, so being afraid does not help my cause.

6. do you feel like you grew in some way this year? why?

- hell yeah I grew in 2018. I grew enough to be able to put myself before others, to not be afraid of rejection, to push for better treatment, to drop those who hold me back or don’t deserve me, etc…

7. are there people you credit with this growth? who?

- yes, I think that some people helped me to grow. first, I think all the people who hurt me are deserving of the credit towards me developing the strength I needed to drop their negative asses. I also need to give SO MUCH CREDIT to my wonderful boyfriend for showing me what a real man is like and forcing me to deal with everything head-on instead of letting life steamroll me. he is miles ahead of me when it comes to self care but he supports the little steps that I am able to take and he is responsible for so much because of how he lifts me up and encourages me to put in the work. he believes in me and knows that I can and will be better and he has been willing to stay with me as I deal with my issues.

8. what is one piece of advice you’d give other people?

- I think I would tell people that giving up doesn’t fix anything. nothing is solved by letting life overtake you. pushing through when you’re barely keeping your head above water is the hardest thing that you can do. it does not always pay off immediately and sometimes it feels so pointless to keep swimming when it looks like there is water for miles and miles and miles but there is always eventually going to be land. you just have to find it, and I know you can.

9. what was the nicest thing someone did for you?

- his one is hard because my memory is not the best. I can’t think of anything specific but I’m sure that lots of people did lots of nice things for me.

10. who inspires you? why?

- my little inspires me. from the moment she joined my sorority I knew she was special, and as I got to know her and fall in love with her personality, I got so impressed with her and where she is in life in spite of all that has happened to her.

11. what are your main sources of inspiration? why?

- my inspiration mostly comes from people and hearing about the incredible things that some humans have done. hearing about the strength of other people makes me want to be strong.

12. what inspires you more: words, pictures, or music?

- music, for sure. there are so many amazing songs that spark my interest and provoke my thoughts.

13. what scares you, creatively?

- I am not really very creative at all. I think what stopped me from being creative is my fear of rejection. I was so terrified that people would hate me for what I wrote or drew or said that I kept it all to myself and let my creativity die out. maybe someday I will work on rekindling the creative ability, but it is not at the top of my list.

14. what did you enjoy working on most this year?

- my fish! owning bettas gave me something to look forward to doing and gave me an outlet to direct my focus and frustration through. any time I was having a hard day I knew I could look at my lil fishy boys and put my restlessness into caring for them and making sure that they were doing really well.

15. what did you have the most fun doing?

- the most fun I had in 2018 year probably came from being able to live with my roommate/soulmate again this semester. we have had our ups and downs but I love her so much and she is my other half, definitely. she brings out a whole new side of me that lets me be silly and goofy and myself around her.

16. what did you have the least fun doing?

- the least amount of fun in 2018 most likely came from the introspection that I had to do to contribute to my self-care. I did not enjoy the work it took, but I am pleased with the outcome of recognizing what needs to be changed and actually getting to make myself better and happier.

17. what is the best compliment you’ve gotten? why?

- I was recently told “your confidence, happiness, and strength has always inspired me! you’re an incredible human and I’m so thankful to be able to know you” and that was so incredible to hear because I don’t often think about the impact that I have on other people. I never thought I was important enough to influence another person’s life, let alone contribute to making it better in any way. I think it is really nice to know that even when I am struggling, I have the ability to positively impact others.

18. what is the best compliment anyone could ever give you?

- the best compliment would probably be something about how they have seen me grow throughout my years and continuously improve. I am not the best at keeping friends for more than a couple years at a time, so I don’t know if I will ever hear that one.

19. what do you wish people commented on more?

- about me??? I don’t know. I don’t really like other people talking about me lmao but I guess I like hearing people’s first impressions of me and how they differ from how I actually am. those are always fun to learn about.

20. what do you feel is the most underrated thing you have done? why?

- during my high school years, I played therapist A LOT to so many people. I put so much emotional labor into listening to other people and helping them figure out problems or just giving them a shoulder to cry on. rarely was this ever returned by those people, so I felt really used a lot of the time but honestly if I had to do it all over again I wouldn’t change a thing because I want to help people feel better.

21. name (and reblog) at least three things you’ve made this year that you’re proudest of.

- sorry, this one isn’t applicable to me. I don’t really make things or post them to tumblr.

22. what are your goals for next year?

- I plan to stop telling people things that aren’t any of their business. I spent a lot of time keeping everything to myself and when I finally started getting friends I felt like I had to tell them everything about me and my life to keep them interested, but that isn’t true. I need to learn how to keep some things private when they need to be.

I want to rekindle a lot of friendships that I messed up in 2018. I let a lot of people fade out of my life when I should not have.

I want to go to THERAPY!! I want to talk to professionals who can help me structure my path of healing!!!

I want to get more comfortable with the body I’m in. that means wearing less makeup, using fewer snapchat filters and other photo editing techniques, and judging myself less when I wear clothes that maybe aren’t the most flattering. it is okay to be ugly and I am not worth less for not being attractive. I want to stretch more and maybe get into a routine of exercising every now and then to feel better instead of to lose weight. I want to eat healthier and drink more water for my health instead of for the purpose of becoming skinny.

I want to make an effort to be more outgoing and get more involved in my sorority and with my Greek life.

23. name three things you like about yourself – and name one think you like about the person you reblogged this from.

I like my irises! my brown eyes are beautiful and unique no matter what anyone says. My eyes have rings like trees and uneven colors throughout. they are beautiful! I like how soft my hair is and I also like the shape of my lips.

something I like about the person I reblogged this ask from, @makingoutisgreat, is how strong and confident she seems. she is beautiful and she knows it and is not afraid to show it off. it is very inspiring.

#ask meme #long post #personal #laney rants #ask and ye shall recieve

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donheisenberg · 6 years

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Top 20 TV Shows of 2017:

So this is the bit where I talk about how difficult it is to write a top 20 list because of peak TV, yada, yada, yada. If you are into TV criticism you have read it all before several over the last few years, the thing is while it might feel like a cliche it is totally true and with every year it become more true. Trying to watch everything out there is impossible and trying to then narrow down what you have watched to a list of 20 is almost as difficult. Every show on this list had an outstanding year as shown by some of the shows I left off of the list. In any other year the likes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and The Americans would be givens even if they just had middling seasons but not this year. It was truly a great year for TV and here are my top 20 shows of 2017.

Shows I Did Not Get Around to Watching/Completing That May Have Made My List: The Deuce The Handmaid’s Tail (to watch) Legion (to watch) Better Things Search Party Difficult People

Honorable Mention: Rick and Morty (season 3): Shout out to Review as well, which was excellent but just had to few episodes for me to really count it. In terms of Rick and Morty it was often in the news (or at least the twitter news) for the wrong reasons this year as a group of its fans decided to act like complete dickheads for a period of time. All of which deflected from the fact it had its best season ever. I’ve always had issues with the show and basically how pro-Rick and his asshole behavior Harmon and co seem to be and this year didn’t necessarily dissuade me of that but on a week to week basis it was crafting, ambitious and well thought out stories, at a rate the show had never before.

No 20: Fargo (season 3): As many observed this was not Fargo’s finest year and it maybe took a while to get going. It is also the case that 3 seasons in it is tougher for a show as idiosyncratic as this one to surprise us. When a seemingly major character dies in episode 1 it is less of a shock than it should be because that is what happened in season 1. Yet at the same time I so enjoyed this season and the performances by the likes of Carrie Coon (more on her later), Ewan MacGregor and David Thewlis and you still had episodes as excellent as The Law of Non-Contradiction.

No 19) Veep (season 6): Similar to Fargo this was a just slightly below average year for Veep, but even then the quality of the ensemble is so far above any other comedy out there and the quality of the writing/jokes/insults is again just of the highest order. There are few shows I enjoy more than Veep.

No 18) Master of None (Season 2): In my review I did write about how aspects of MON did frustrate me. For it’s social awareness, it is a show that wants me to desperately feel sorry for the man with seemingly the nicest/most privileged life in the world. The extent to which the show is essentially lifestyle porn at times can be a problem and the extent to which the show never questions Dev’s actions can also be a little off-putting. Yet having said that the good outweighs the bad and then some. The show crafts so many beautiful fully realized episodes and months after watching it is episodes like Thanksgiving that stick with me, more than the show’s flaws.

No 17) The Young Pope (Season 1): I’m not sure I get The Young Pope. I love it but I’m not sure I get it. Even in this age of weird TV there is something truly odd about this show. So difficult to write about because it does not conform to any conventions or labels and that’s why it makes this list. Having said all of this I’m not quite sure the show ever hit the heights of its pilot (even if it remained excellent throughout) and that’s why it is not a little bit higher.

No 16) Brockmire (Season 1): Brockmire is exactly the sort of gem that can get lost in this golden age, but for those few of us who did see it we know that it was one of the most raucous, hilarious and endearing comedies out there. I don’t know or care about baseball at all but I do love Brockmire and can’t wait til it comes back.

No 15) Brooklyn Nine Nine (season 4/5): Just as Brockmire can get lost in a sea of amazing shows, B99 is the sort of show that you can take for granted so easily but 5 seasons in and it is still full of heart and brilliant gags. More than that though this year on a couple of occasions we saw the show break-out of its comfort zone with episodes about Terry being racially profiled and more recently Rosa coming out to her less than progressive parents. Those episodes showcased a different side of the show and demonstrated how B99 is not just a great sitcom but an important one. Nine Nine!

No 14) Preacher (Season 2): Parts of season 2 of Preacher were as good as anything on TV. The opening scenes of the first two episodes, as well as standout episode Sokosha plus a whole host of other moments, showed how Preacher could execute some of the most ambitious TV out there to near perfection. It was not all perfect and the season might have benefited from being 10 episode long rather than 12 but nonetheless I love this show and it seems to only go in one direction. Bring on season 3.

No 13) GLOW (Season 1): GLOW was sort of the perfect summer show. It was funny and likable and so binge-able. Netflix makes a lot of deeply serialized shows, designed to be consumed in one sitting so as you find out what happens next. Glow was not that. What GLOW was, was a show that quickly established an ensemble of distinct and interesting characters who you wanted to spend time with and for that it was a standout show.

No 12) Better Call Saul (Season 3): It pains me to put BCS at number 12, in any other year this could be a contender for my number 1 spot but here it does quite make the top ten. Part of the reason why it is a little lower than you might have excepted is that at this stage I don’t have to tell anyone how good this show is. Into it’s third season and BCS was possibly better than ever. Certainly episodes like the chilling Lantern and in particular Chicanery mark series high points and some of the finest TV I’ve seen all year.

No 11) American Vandal (Season 1): American Vandal is a curious show. It is ostensibly a parody, yet by the time you finish it you look back and think that was funny but not funny enough to be making this list necessarily. What it was though was the most engrossing show of the year. And it all centred on the question “who drew the dicks?” Yet for the silliness of the premise I could not have been more intrigued. AV found new ground for the most tired of sub-genres, the mockumentary and in the process delivered an absurd but in many ways tragic story of a stupid but well meaning kid in high school whose life goes array for reasons that have little to do with him. Defining the pleasures of the show may not be straight, but boy was it insanely watchable-the Netflix model at its best.

No 10 )Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Season 3): Similar to B99, UKS is the sort of consistent joke machine that you can take for granted, and that many have, but for me this year there were few shows enjoyed nearly as much as it. I thought the show delivered its best season. The work of Ellie Kemper and in particular Titus Burgess can match any comedic performers on TV. Again though amidst all the laughs is a very human character study piece of an abuse victim and maybe where the show’s genius thoroughly lies is in the way the show balances these two sides of itself.

No 9) Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (Seasons 2/3): Rachel Bloom’s musical comedy/drama goes from strength to strength. Like many shows of this list it perfectly balances cartoonish sensibilities with discussions on mental health and never more so than in the first half of season 3. In addition to that though are the musical numbers. At times I’m just in awe of how spot on and clever their parodies, my favorite this year being “Let’s Generalize About Men” and for that it had to make my top ten.

No 8) Bojack Horseman (Season 4): In its 2nd and particularly 3rd seasons Bojack became a show that delivered some of the most outstanding individual episodes of television, possibly ever. Escape From LA, Fish Under Water and That’s Too Much Man are just incomparable half hours of TV. Season 4 did not deliver a single episode of quite that standard. What season 4 did do though is deliver quite possibly the show’s most consistent, revealing and hopefully season. Something we all needed at the end of the show’s previous season.

No 7) Catastrophe (Season 3): Okay it was only 6 episodes along, but I ask this question every year, is there a better written show on TV? There might be snappier dialogue out there, there might be more profound existential musings on some other show, but there is no show with more wonderfully naturalistic dialogue on now or possibly ever. Also there is not really a couple of TV I root for quite as much as Sharon and Rob and I really just want to watch the two of them on screen together as much as possible.Plus the final episode of season 3 was just the perfect send-off for Carrie Fisher and for that alone it deserves it place on my list.

No 6) Jane The Virgin (Season 3/4): Now four seasons in Jane the Virgin still has the power to surprise and hit me emotionally as much as just about any show on this list. I would go as far as to stay no episode of television this year hit me as hard as (spoilers) Michael’s death which was absolutely devestating. But when it comes to Jane the Virgin it is not just the big gut-punches that count, it is the smaller moments as well. The other scene that sticks with me most from its episodes this year is when Rogelio (often the show’s most comic presence) opens up to Xo about how he hasn’t been able to grieve properly for Michael, who was his best friend, because he knew he had to be strong for Jane while she was grieving. It is a comparatively small moment but every bit as resonant. I can take or leave all the intrigue concerning the Marbella but week after week the show delivers moments that really effect me, which even in this golden age can’t be said of too many show.

No 5) Twin Peaks (Season 3): It seems to me that Twin Peaks has either been number 1 or completely absent from every critics list. And I can understand both positions. Twin Peaks was fascinating in a way that television and art more generally rarely is. It was also incredibly and deliberately frustrating at times. I’m almost reluctant to point out how obviously frustrating parts of the revival were because I feel like I might be missing something. On the other hand because its Lynch and because he is a widely and rightly acknowledge genius I think some critics have been too forgiving of some pretty blatant narrative issues, that on another show they would have lambasted. Ultimately though it was the TV event of the year and nothing quite engaged me on a week to week basis like it did. More than anything though there were certain moments, particularly toward the end of the season, that were greater than anything else on TV this year. Moments I completely lost myself in, in ways that are quite difficult to explain and for that I won’t be forgetting the revival for a very long time.

No 4) Mr Robot (Season 3): If season 1 was clinically perfect, in a way no show since Breaking Bad has been, season 2 was an over-ambitious, definitely fascinating, mess. I was a bit of an apologist for the largely disliked second season-but even I was somewhat disappointed after the heights of season 1. Season 3 not only got the show back on track but it found a balance in the ensemble that neither season 1 (which was almost all Elliot) or season 2 (which felt like very little Elliot) had. It also starting making sense again and the show successfully battled the urge to be overly opaque or to have unnecessary twists. All of which meant that we got some of the show’s finest hours yet specifically the thrilling fifth and sixth episodes as well as the surprising and heart-warming eight hour, not to mention the finale which had a bit of everything. And for all its pessimism few shows made me happier this year, because I was so delighted to see this great show prove all the doubters wrong.

No 3) The Good Place (season 1/2): Michael Schur has secured himself a place in TV history with The Office, B99 and in particular Parks and Rec, already but with The Good Place he has gone one further. We all knew he could craft wonderfully funny and likable sitcoms, but here he has delivered a show as twisty and as engaged in huge philosophical issues as any prestige serialized drama. The Good Place is not necessarily a sad-com like many of the show’s on this list but it is possibly the most plot driven network sitcom ever. The thing is the plot has real stakes and is completely unpredictable as well. The huge twist at the end of season 1 showed that even in the age of Reddit you could pull out the rug from underneath your audience and I did not think that was possible. I don’t know how much longer they can continue it but as of now The Good Place is just about a perfect piece of television.

No 2) Halt and Catch Fire (Season 4): Without spoiling what is number 1 on my list, when it aired I thought nothing would come near it but Halt and Catch Fire came very very close. Back in its much derided first season Halt was a jukebox spitting one antihero cliche after another. In some ways it never strayed too far from the conventions of the antihero drama but what made it different was that at a certain point it just wasn’t about antiheroes. Sure all the characters were deeply flawed, none more so than Joe, but their constant strive for something more, for some kind of connection felt so human you could not help but love them. The final four episodes were TV drama at its best and when it ended I really struggled with the notion that I would not be spending more time with these characters, but if anything made it okay it was how well they stuck the landing. Speaking of which..

No 1) The Leftovers (Season 3): No show has ever made quite the impact in such a short space of time. The Leftovers conclude its mere 28 episode run this year, just 28 episodes yet about half of them are nothing short of masterpieces. That includes just about every episode in this final run. It’s tough in just a paragraph to breakdown what made The Leftovers such a transcendent piece of television-so to be glib I’ll say it took the ambition and phantasmagoria of Twin Peaks and combined it with the heart and focus on character of Halt and Catch Fire. LOST-one of my absolute favorite shows of all time-will define Lindelof’s career but The Leftovers is ultimately a more complete and mature piece of work. The writing, performances and direction coalesced to give us something often hilarious and surprising and always deeply powerful. There may never be a show like The Leftovers again and for those reasons it was always going to be my number 1.

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thedepthsremember · 6 years

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20 Questions: Choices fanfic writers edition

Tagged in this by @breaumonts! Thanks :D

1. When/what age did you start writing? In elementary school, I wrote and drew my own picture books, which at that age I definitely thought was the best thing to do forever. In middle/high school, there was some self-insert Spider-Man and Harry Potter fanfic that I hope stays buried forever. I picked it back up more regularly during an awful period in college where I lost my love of drawing (unfortunate, considering my major) but still needed to express somehow. 2. What inspired you to start? Similar to my art it's been a way to express myself, to tell my side of how I'm seeing things. A lot of the time it's like solving a puzzle, what was that character thinking? And then I just keep chasing that thought.

It weirds me out that writing feels more like..... excavating. Like it was there and I’m just uncovering it. Drawing doesn’t feel like that at all. 3. Where and when does inspiration usually strike you? I do a lot of driving, so usually then, or if I'm doing something repetitive at work and I can let my mind wander. While I'm getting a massage is a random one but I'm relaxed and my mind can just play without getting in its own way.

4. Where and when do you usually to write? Morning? Late at night? On the bus? In bed? Lately it's been my favorite way to procrastinate sleeping because it's like I'm being productive! Hahaaa

I'll write entire scenes in my head before I write anything down. Sometimes I'll dash down little parts on paper or in my phone to make sure I don't forget.

5. Do you listen to music while writing? If so what genre/playlist? A lot of chill video game instrumentals are a good default, unless I have a playlist or an artist I know will set the right mood. I'm pop trash so usually that'll fall to the background enough that I can focus. 6. Which category do you like best? Angst? Fluff? NSFW? Other? I would love to wrote more fluff, but it seems to tend towards a lot of angsting and anxiety with some humor thrown in, I guess because that's how I deal with my own thoughts. I do get to give them happy endings, so that's nice! 7. Which category do you find most challenging to write? Smut is really difficult and awkward for me, partly bc part of the appeal of the actual acts irl are they help me turn my brain chatter off, so it's hard to put that back into descriptions. Plus I'm just self conscious about how personal that is.

Also anything with an actual plot. I can give you moments and that's about it. 8. If you had to pick your favourite Choices book, which one would it be and why? TRR is the one that sucked me in and stole my soul for whatever reason, BUT I can also admit a lot of that is for what it could be. It's a good thought playground. Like Harry Potter.

Perfect Match is shaping up to be my jam, I live for sci fi and found families and all that "what is the nature of humanity" nonsense. It's like Dollhouse without being built on a base of creepiness.

I also really love the ILITW cast, enough that it balances out how much of a wimp i am when it comes to scary things. 9. If your Choices LIs were real, which one (and only one!) would you personally want to be with? I've said before that Damien from Perfect Match is the closest to my irl type, but right now I'm kind of exhausted of that "I'm too cool to like things" sort of dude. Idk let's give older Lucas (ilitw) a shot. He's motivated but has a playful side, we might balance each other out. Especially after he figures himself out more in college. 10. Do you share any physical characteristics with your Choices MCs? Pics/selfies optional :) Riley is small and ready to brawl and I've basically given her an idealized version of my body type when I draw her. Uhhh like half of the others end up being long haired blondes because even though that's not my hair anymore it was like that for most of my life. 11. Which MC do you share the most personality traits with? Perfect Match MC feels the closest, a lotta the other MCs are leader types, PM MC is like Alright yeah let's kick ass so we can go home and eat ice cream. Feels very purple Hawke.

TRR MC in her more absurd moments also feels very familiar. I have a story about the fancy hats. 12. Which Choices character do you feel you have the best grasp of in terms of personality? I get Drake bc that fucker is every guy I've befriended who then caught feelings because he's not used to being treated nicely. :| He also has a “the people I care about deserve the things I want more than I do" thing that I am only now realizing feels.... awfully familiar....... :| …...let’s move on.

13. What’s your favorite Choices pairing to write for? Obviously Maxwell x MC. I love pairs that have a good push and pull, where they can be silly but care about each other.

Sidedish of MC+Drake friendship because my wish fulfillment fantasy is those previously mentioned guys stop ruining a potentially good friendship with their moping and actually be a pal, dammit. 14. What is a pairing/s you hope to start writing for? Like anything else, lmao. More friendship stuff? Hana's only been in one of my fics which bums me out.

Pretty sure some Damien x MC and Hayden x MC will be coming now that PM2 is happening. Something with more ladies. Eleanor x MC from THOBM! Ghost gf fitting into the modern world has plenty of potential. 15. What do you hope to improve in your writing? Current struggle is I keep trying to write smut and then distracting myself with what happens before/after. Gah.

More actions / feelings. I feel like too much of my writing comes from dialogue with actions peppered in to meter the rhythm.

16. Any pet peeves related to writing? So. Words have always been a finicky thing for me. Things will make sense in my head, and then I say them out loud and realize people aren’t seeing things from the same spot. So sharing my writing is A VERY SELF-CONSCIOUS TIME.

In terms of the actual process: When I just wanna write something self-indulgent and I start actually trying, and then we're like 5 miles off track from the fun part. I also get pretty self-conscious that the OOC police or something is going to come for me. 17. Are you inspired by any IRL experiences when you write? Care to share? A lot of flaws or traumas I'll saddle my characters with are my own but tweaked, because I like the idea that someone can have them and still succeed. 18. Is there any particular piece of work you consider to be your ultimate writing goal? uhhhhh i. don't. know? If I could make someone laugh and cry in the same fic that's golden. 19. Did/do you write for any other fandoms? If so which ones? I have a bunch of drabbles for Dragon Age. I also just checked my ancient FF.net account to make sure the really old stuff is gone and found some Teen Titans and ATLA stuff I completely forgot about. 20. In your spare time (when you’re not writing) what other hobbies do you pursue? Art mainly, I'm back into digital for the first time since graduation (I majored in animation/illustration) so that's kind of exciting right now. VIDEO GAMES. I like to bake but my housemates have way more self control than I do, meaning I always end up eating most of whatever it is, so that's dangerous. I do like to work out. Share and tag fandom writers! @riseandshinelittleblossom and anyone else who wants to!

#vee life #meme me

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