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adhdduckie · 9 days

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felix felices, or liquid luck f.w. x fem! reader.

my masterlist

irl mutuals dni (你没有看到我）

music choice; yo bro wtf

t.w.: swearing. (sorry i couldnt help myself)

word count: 3.5k

synopsis; strangers (hallway crushes) to lovers, with the help of felix felicis potion, or the liquid luck potion!!

here you go anon! hope you enjoy <3 sorry i took so long.

im so sunburnt help

(slightly inspired from my own events but let me tell you i died inside. i hate chemistry oh my lord, potions reminds me too much of it lol)

warnings; not proof read. 3 (?) mentions of y/n, a really stupid misunderstanding. reader is described with hair that can get blown into their face.

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everybody knew fred weasley. it was impossible not to, as they were hogwart's most well known pranksters since the era of the marauders.

of course, you did not happen to know him well enough yourself. you had a couple of lessons with him, such as; potions, herbology, and arithmetics.

His brother and he never really contributed anything to class discussion, only ever helpfully supplying mischief and jokes, and whatever they deemed interesting to themselves.

however, you noticed him wherever you went. It seemed as if it was almost impossible not to, he just happened to pop up randomly everywhere. In hogsmeade, in the hallways between classes, and in your dreams. (not in a weird way you weirdos).

Maybe the first time you ever really started thinking about him was when he appeared in your dream…you weren't too sure. But soon enough, you began thinking about him way too much, counting down the lessons till you could see him again in a next lesson.

you began searching for him in the hallways, the common room, the dining hall. even in places you know he would never be, but it just seems like you were always looking for him.

in lessons, everything he did, you were drawn to. you knew what he had, knew what he liked, and you spoke to him only every once in a while.

'this sucks.' you'd tell your friends. they'd laugh, telling you you should just talk to him more.

which isn't really helpful. you would think.

through some miracle ( or horror, you really couldn't decide.) you ended up sitting with fred in potions. Technically it wasn't a miracle, you had just been goofing off with your friends, being too loud for dear old snapey, you'd been moved next to him.

'oh god oh god oh god oh god' was the only thing going through your head as you packed up your desk to move next to him. your friend could barely hold in her laughter, having to slap her own hand over her mouth to muffle it.

'oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done to deserve this oh my god' is what you were thinking as you walked towards the back, brushing past george as you walked towards fred.

You sat down at his desk, and he turned his face to you, giving you a soft smile. you pray internally that your face does not erupt into flames.

professor snape, once satisfied that you are suffering, turns back to the board, tapping his wand impatiently on the board.

"today," he drawls, "we will be attempting the felix felicis potion. failure to produce a functioning potion will result in a fourteen inch parchment describing every step you made and what you did wrong." he finishes, piercing his gaze into every one of his students.

you wince. fourteen inches for a mistake? seems costly. Potions has never been your strong point. (for the purpose of this, we're gonna pretend fred is excellent at potions.) You pray to the gods above that you don't mess this up for fred.

as snape sits down on his desk, working through marking some paper. as you get up to go get the ingredients as fred sets up the cauldron. you come back, setting down the ashwinder egg, squid bulb, murtlap growth, thyme occamy eggshell, and powdered common rue on the desk.

fred smiles again, thanking you for your help.

"so we have to set in the ashwinder egg first. you wanna do it?" fred asks, as you tie up your hair. he watches as you do so, and you nod, trying to fight off any embarrassment.

he steps back from the cauldron, letting you do so. your hands are shaking and you are doing everything in your power to stop it. in your haste, you knock over the murtlap growth, but before it falls, fred's hand flashes out, catching it in his hand.

"sorry!" you apologise frantically, and he laughs. It's the nicest laugh you've ever heard, deep and infectious, a laugh you'd be able to hear across the room and still recall years later.

"don't worry. i caught it." he says, setting it back on the table.

you smile, avoiding eye contact. you manage to finish the task, and with his help with mixing, the felix felicis is done. while he was mixing, you tried to pretend not to notice his hands. they're nice, to say the least. his hands are rough and calloused from years of being on the quidditch team, as a beater. he's got small white scars littered across his hands from years of experimenting with george over their joke shop products. you have to drag your eyes away.

The felix felicis potion is finished, and it's the most beautiful shade of gold you've ever seen. You would describe it akin to what you would imagine liquid gold to be, and it fits perfectly into a little vial the size of your middle finger. all that work for a little vial no bigger than your middle finger.

it's still the most valuable potion in the world, though.

the potion has large drops of gold leaping across the surface like goldfish, but it never seems to spill out of the vial. you put the stopper over it, and you hand it to fred, your fingers brushing against his warm ones in the process.

"thanks." he seems to whisper, even though he speaks at normal volume.

"we work well together, i think. usually i can't even get a basic potion done." you tell him, laughing a little.

"i bet that's not true." he responds, the corner of his lips upturned.

"it is." you laugh.

you both return to your seats after setting all the equipment away, and as the first group finished, it means you get to present it first.

snape looks at it approvingly, the first time he's ever regarded something you've done, as done well. you can't help but smile, and snape speaks. "i'm glad that you were able to work well once i removed you from your friends. mr. weasley will now be your partner."

you stare at him in slight disbelief, before shrugging and saying, "yes professor snape."

"as the first students done, and the best potion made, you may keep it. decide amongst yourselves which of you gets it." snape finishes, before shooing you away from his desk.

you both stare at each other, your eyes meeting his hazel brown ones. "you have it-" "i don't want-" you both say, before he tries to hand it to you.

you push his hand away, shaking your head, "it's alright, you can keep it."

"no, i think you should keep it. after all, you need it for potions, right?" he jokes, pushing it into your hands.

you gape at him in mock shock. "how could you say that! We only did so well because of me!" you respond, in mock indignation.

he laughs, as he closes your palm over the small vial, and you realise you've lost. however, you decide, you will sneak it into his bag when he's not paying attention.

the end of the lesson has never come so fast. And for the first time in your life, you're slightly disappointed to leave potions. before leaving you levitate the felix felicis potion into his bag with your wand, and you grin wickedly. you'll just have to see him in your other classes later.

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Fred Weasley thinks he is absolutely screwed. After a year of having a crush on a girl who he does not talk to often, despite sharing three lessons with her, he is now partners in potions with her for an indefinite period of time.

He doesn't know when he first noticed you, but god, is he glad he did. he thinks you may be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, with the brightest smile, and the sweetest personality.

so imagine his surprise, that this sweet girl, has gotten in trouble for talking so much (he doesn't care, he liked listening to your voice)

while you were freaking out and chanting 'oh shit' in your head, something similar was going through fred's. george coughs, unsuccessfully hiding his laugh behind it. fred elbows george to get him to shut up as you approach the table, and george gathers his things, to leave. he winks at fred, before walking to your previous seat next to your friend, flashing a quick and easy smile.

fred wishes he could talk to you so easily, and he tries his best not to show his nervousness, flashing you what he thinks is an awkward smile. (it isnt, it looks natural as hell, not to mention hot as hell)

while you make the potion, he watches you with fervour, as if he's scared he'll miss a single movement you'll make, hungrily soaking up your smiles like a man starved.

every touch feels like something he's been missing, like a hot cup of chocolate after a walk in winter, and he's scared he's going to get addicted.

he wants to give you the felix felicis, and is happy when you finally give up. after potions, in herbology, he reaches into his bag, to find the felix felicis. he laughs, before searching across the classroom for you.

when he makes eye contact, he raises an eyebrow, holding it in his palm to show you, his heart fluttering in his chest. he looks as composed and calm as ever to you, but he knows differently.

it becomes a game, the felix felicis. it takes over several months, and you start to get creative with it, hiding it in his mail, he hid it in your textbooks somehow, you hid it in his hair, etc etc.

it became a competition, who could come up with the craziest spots. after you hid it a couple months later in what you hope was his jacket pocket.

it's been awhile since you had first sat with fred in potions because of professor snape, and you're so happy to say that you've grown closer over the months, even spending time together out of lessons at cafes to study, or in the library together.

after hiding the felix felicis in his jacket pocket while on a walk with him in the winter months, you wait for his turn.

one day passes. nothing happens. another day, and another. four days later, and it still hasn't turned up yet. where is it? you wonder. you check for it everywhere you go, turning your entire dorm upside down searching for it.

he couldn't have lost it, right? it was in his jacket pocket. could it be that he's bored of this game, and he just decided to keep it? must be.

you're disappointed, of course, it was very enjoyable. but there's nothing you can really do.

imagine your surprise, when you walk into the dining hall, to see fred standing with his brother, and what- what's that in his hand? none other than the felix felicis.

you watch as he takes a swig of it, setting the rest of the vial in his pocket. his brother pats him on the back in what seems to be encouragement, and he walks over to your friend.

he smiles at her, and she smiles back. they talk and for some reason your heart starts to get a bit heavy.

'did he just drink the felix felicis just to talk to her?' you ask yourself. unable to stand there and watch, you turn around and walk out of the dining hall, threading your fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your face.

something dark, sick and familiar is brewing in the pit of your stomach, it's pulling, pushing your heart strings.

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fred weasley is going to ask you out. he toys with the felix felicis vial in his pocket as he waits for you to enter the dining hall, turning it over and over again in his pocket as he leans against one of the columns with george.

you don't show up for awhile, and fred's wondering where you are.

"go ask her friend." george states, pushing him forward, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

fred hypes himself up, and he takes the vial out of his pocket, swigging a sip as he stalks towards your friend. the liquid is thick but light in his mouth, tasting of golden hawthorn berries and honey.

he taps her on the shoulder and smiles at her nervously.

"hey. where's y/n?" he asks your friend

"she's still upstairs i believe." she responds with a smile.

she turns around to see you walking out of the hall, and her smile drops.

"oh."

"what?" fred asks.

"i think she may have misunderstood what's going on." she sighs, and gives fred a slightly strained smile. "you couldn't have waited till after you spoke to me to drink it, could you?"

fred flashes a confused look. "whatever do you mean?"

"hasn't the entire potion been a game? who could hide it the best?" your friend asks him.

"i mean, yeah, it has. but i don't see the problem…?" he scratches the back of his neck.

she rolls her eyes, muttering something about 'boys…' freds eyes narrow, and she lets out a soft laugh.

"right. think of it this way. imagine you've had a crush on this guy for ages. you're not exactly close, but you talk. you have one 'special' thing you do together. for example, hiding the potion….and then you see them keeping it for themselves….you got me?" Your friend finishes, raising her eyebrows at him.

he stares, before realisation finally dawns on him.

"oh shit." he mutters, hand threading through his ginger locks.

"well?" your friend asks, somewhat impatient. "go after her."

fred nods, sprinting across the dining hall, after you. praying to himself that he can fix this, and george throws him a thumbs up as he sprints past.

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'fuck.' you think as you sit down on the edge of the astronomy tower. you can't help but replay the moment of fred drinking the felix felicis before he speaks to your friend. he looked so nervous but so hyped.

you're not about to jump off the astronomy tower, but it's a nice place to be where you need some time alone, to think. you need that now.

that sick, familiar and painful thing pulling at your gut earlier, its back. theres nothing you can do now, but just sit back and let it happen, you suppose.

She's your friend, and so is fred. you have to be okay with it. it's not worth losing friends over.

the wind picks up, ruffling your hair into your face, tangling it into knots. the rain starts pouring down, dropleta cascading down your face.

turning your face up to the sky, you let out a deep sigh, feeling tears prickling at your waterline, fighting the tears back. 'no. you don't have a right to be upset.' you chatise.

'he's not yours. he never was.' you need to remind yourself. this isn't fair to either of them, they had no control over their feelings.

despite that, the tears continue to fall. you can't compete, this isn't fair. she knew you liked him. she knew how you felt. you literally spoke to her about it.

There is nothing. nothing you can do about this. you are just going to have to wait for the feelings to go away. it wouldn't be fair to like your best friend's boyfriend. (getting ahead of yourself, aren't we?)

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fred weasley is freaking out. he can't find you. you're not in the common room, in any of your lessons for the day (yes, he knows your schedule), you're not in any of the bathrooms (he didn't go in, he just asked the girls who came out of the bathrooms), and you're not near the black lake.

in his haste, he almost runs in to someone. "shit." he grunts

"watch where you're going!" someone says. he looks up and realises it's harry.

"oh it's you. you alright there, fred?" harry says, pulling fred up to his feet.

"harry!" fred basically shouts. "where's the marauders map?" he practically begs, and harry raises a brow in response.

"not the time. i need it." harry nods, pulling it out of his pocket, before handing it over to fred.

"oh shit." fred whispers, seeing your name pop up at the astronomy tower. how could he forget it? you told him weeks ago that it was your favourite place in the school.

shoving the marauders map back into harry's arms, fred yells his thanks to harry as he speeds through the hall, skipping steps three at a time to get to you, he stumbles a couple of times, not hitting the floor, but catching himself just in time.

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your back is to the door, and the combination of the rain and the wind prevents you from hearing it open.

"y/n? are you alright?" fred asks quietly, taking a deep breath and sitting besides you.

you turn your face away, wiping away the marks of tears before turning back to him.

"yeah. just enjoying the rain. it's nice, isn't it?" you tell him, trying to change the topic, giving him a soft smile.

you both stare off into the distance, slowly watching all the dark rain clouds move away from the astronomy tower.

he notices that you're drenched, and he sighs. he pulls his jumper over his head, pulling his wand out from his pocket as he does so. "exaresco" he whispers as you dry off.

he passes you his jacket, which you accept without a word. it's still warm with his body heat, and smells faintly of the quidditch pitch and cinnamon, tinged with a scent of something burnt.

"so. you and (friend's name), huh?" you say to attempt to lighten the mood. turning your face to him, you send him a (fake) sly smile, nudging him in the arm.

he stares at you, furrowing his eyebrows. since he finally knows how you feel about him, why are you acting like this?

"no." his reply is short, straight to the point.

you gape at him, mouth falling open and he lets out a deep chuckle, his index finger reaching out and pushing your jaw back up.

"what do you mean no?? I saw you going up to her, drinking the felix felicis." you say, pushing his hand away from your face with a confused frown.

"it wasn't for her." He states simply, hoping his answer is enough for you to finally understand his feelings.

you stare blankly at him.

"you're one of the smartest people i know, but you're so oblivious." he states, sighing playfully.

"then who's the lucky girl?" you ask him, not really wanting to hear the answer anyway. your stomach's already feeling heavy, and he's not even said anything yet. is it katie bell? angelina johnson? who else has he spoken to that he might like?

fred lets out a groan. how can you be so oblivious.

"what?" You laugh, nudging him and trying to get out an answer from him. your hands are getting cold, so you put them in your (fred's) jacket pockets. there's something cold inside, and you pull out a familiar vial.

"why would you think there's anyone else?" fred asks, eyes trained on you as you turn the vial over and over again in your hands.

that catches your attention and your eyes turn to him. "what do you mean?"

fred laughs, his hand combs through his ginger locks as he pushes them back nervously.

"I'm trying, and failing apparently, to tell you i like you." he finally says, laughing nervously again, avoiding eye contact with you.

you gape, for the umpteenth time tonight, before realising he must be joking. you force out a laugh, slightly (super) disappointed. "you're so funny." you deadpan.

"i'm not joking."

"you must be." You respond, slightly hurt that he finds something like this funny. you're facing away again, so you don't notice him look at you. something steels inside of him, and he's confident this will end in his favour.

he reaches up, his hand finding your jaw, and he pulls your face back to him.

something in his eyes is dark, and you realise for the first time, that he's not joking. there's something similar to adoration in his eyes, and it's everything you do in your power to stop from gasping.

"i'm not joking." he repeats.

you can feel his breath on you, fanning across your skin like a warm embrace.

"are you sure?" you whisper, trying to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"yes." his response is short, sure and straight to the point. "i am"

the next thing you know, his lips are on yours, breaths mingling together. he pulls you closer, and you feel yourself melt into his embrace.

you pull back from the kiss, and he lets out a unhappy groan.

"does this mean…you like me?" you ask him.

he glares at you, and you laugh. "i'm only joking." is your response. he grins, his forehead resting against yours.

you lie your head on his shoulder, and the both of you enjoy each other's company. this all happened because of felix felics. you can't help but feel so grateful. maybe you should stop hating potions now.

#fred weasley #x reader #duckiewrites #fred weasley x reader #duckie's inbox #wizarding world #hp fandom #harry potter #george weasley #fred x reader #gryffindor reader #gryffindor #the weasleys #weasley family #asks #sorry anon it took so long #fred

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for refusing to fix my sister's necklace and offering to make her a new one instead?

Okay, for context I'm a self-employed jewellery designer and maker. Essentially, I made my sister a necklace for her 26th birthday, after I' first started my job. And... you ever look at something you made and wondered 'good god, wtf was I thinking?' It's like that with the necklace every time I had to see it.

Anyways, two days ago, my sister called me to ask if I could fix the necklace. Even though we don't speak much after I went no contact with the rest of my family and there's the fact that we always end up fighting the few times we do see each other, I gave in and asked her to come over with the necklace so that I could assess how bad the damage was.

She was there two hours later and... well, I don't know exactly what she did with the necklace, and I'm not sure if I want to know, but it certainly wasn't as simple as the chain or clasp breaking. Essentially, most of the really decorative stuff is made up of interlocking rings and at least fifty small peridots. Most of those rings and peridots were missing. I asked my sister what happened to them and she said she didn't know. So I said "I'm sorry, but I can't make it exactly as it was without those rings and peridots." Then I asked her if she'd prefer me to make her a new one, not exactly the same and hopefully less impossible/tricky to fix without all the missing pieces or replacement components that I wouldn't be able to make for months. Honestly, my opinion was that it would be less time-consuming and 'god, what was my younger self actually thinking when she made this?' to just make her a new one.

My sister didn't seem especially into the idea, but she asked how long it would take for me to make her that new necklace. I said that I had a commission I needed to finish, which would be done in a week, maybe a week and a half, and she asked if I couldn't just put that commission to the side to make the new necklace. I said no, because the client the commission was for would be paying me and I was going to make the new necklace for free. She told me that she'd wanted to wear the necklace to her wedding anniversary, which was in four, five days at the time. I told her that I couldn't do that, because my paying client took priority. She stormed out, leaving the broken necklace with me.

I feel really guilty because, even if we don't see each other that often, she wanted the necklace for her wedding anniversary. That's a special thing for her, and I feel like she might not enjoy it as much because I didn't fix her necklace.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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briar-rolfes-research-oubliette · 1 month

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ON MONDAY, I (FINALLY) MADE IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE NEWEST ERAGON BOOK!

MURTAGH

“A Book I Read”

It took three very patient friends of mine to encourage me to finish reading this. I took notes the whole way through, and I am now sharing those in hope of finding loving community with my fellow haters.

Important context:

I loved Eragon, which came out when I was roughly eleven

Christopher Paolini was the first author to ever disappoint me

I used to love epic fantasy, until feminism, coming out, and learning about literary criticism made me just too mean to enjoy it

Since 2015, whenever I’ve had writer’s block, I’ve found inspiration by looking at this screenshot:

Christopher has managed to create a life where his mum has never stopped doing his laundry or his editing for him. He has never worked a job in his life. He has infinite time to work on his craft, and yet, with all of those advantages, he writes the way he does. I don’t hate him, but I do want to destroy him in single combat.

LET US BEGIN.

17 November 2023

I forgot how obsessed this man is with proving he knows rare words. Picking up my phone to google the word “trenchant”.

He really just didn’t want to say the dragon had a sharp sense of humour huh? Oh, no, it’s TRENCHANT. It wasn’t even for dialogue I identified as comedy but Murtagh thought it was TRENCHANT. He and Thorn have been alone in the wilderness for too long

NOT NASUADA BEING DESCRIBED AS HAVING ALMOND EYES

Of course the protagonist has grown a beard. He’s A Man Now.

I have a theory that this book is about coming to terms with marriage. Murtagh is like “our bond… our bond that lasts until death… the oldest magic… only the two of us understand each other. But, we’re also trapped with each other,” and I’m like hm. Fascinating. Say more

Instantly Murt befriends a child, to prove he is good really.

It’s so weird to read a book by a grown man with kids who is like “how did we all start out so innocent and pure…” like have you MET five year olds

This whole fork fight scene makes me feel second hand embarrassment deep in my soul. It’s SO This Guy Is The Best And Coolest

“Fencing with effortless ease” I do not care how well trained he is: you cannot kill four men with long swords by stabbing them with a little fork in “four hard impacts.” It’s just not happening.

I’m really dwelling on the idea of magic as “imposing your will” on something. It’s very.., something. Murtagh cleans his shirt by “imposing his will on the garment” like. Okay, I suppose in a way that is how all laundry is done, but it’s. Hm.

How come he’ll clean a shirt with magic but not shave with magic? Why are these books SO obsessed with beards and shaving and how to do shave and using magic for shaving etc etc, Eragon was also majorly preoccupied with this

Paolini’s got so many complexes on the page. All the “we’re half brothers and your dad killed my dad” stuff is A LOT

The naming stuff… SMH what would Ursula Le Guin say about all this

I’m obsessed with how even as (gasp) an OUTCAST!! Murtagh can’t not be the coolest guy ever for any time at all. It’s like a disease

Giving the child the enchanted killing fork was the worst decision ever made. Murtagh gives her a murder weapon and is then moping like “what’s it like… to live without killing…” literally pages later.

I’m really startled that Murt is delighted to see a tiny flying magical grass boat come down from the sky and circle him instead of being like “wtf, I’m being Watched,” which would be the true act of a man we are told is paranoid

I just got to the bit where Murtagh offhandedly says that magic users who “are the heaviest” always have the most spell reserves.

Like……… what???? Magic eats your fat?? It burns glucose??

You could be a better mage if you just, ate a bunch of raspberry frogs before each fight??????

It’s food powered??? You really want to go there, Paolini????? Wizards in the candy shop, eating sweeties like Mistborns?

GOD, if only Galbatorix had chugged a bottle of red cordial before his last big fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I return after losing my mind about this to my partner for forty minutes)

If it was “if you’re hungry you can’t FOCUS” I’d get it. But I always assumed it was like, you know how other fantasy does it? Some kind of pool of ADDITIONAL energy that you are accessing and that can be used up (until you go too far and start using life force or whatever). Like, it’s CHANNELLING it that makes you tired, not that it’s literal food energy.

Murtagh is always running or doing his sword forms or whatever and now I’m like “DUDE, NO!!!?!? DON’T BURN YOUR WIZARD CALORIES!!?!?”

I like when magic can’t do EVERYTHING, when it’s consistent or limited in some way, but I do hate the idea that it’s this predictable. Food energy becomes raw magical power. I GUESS.

(A little later)

Screaming at the suggestion Thorn can tell when Murtagh is horny.

I don’t like the euphemisms. It makes it worse

The fact he can’t talk to his dragon whenever they’re “too far apart” (distance never specified) is making me insane. Why did I pick up the dragon riding book if it’s mostly about leaving your dragon locked up at the bike rack

I know Thorn is basically a rescue dog with anxiety, but it bothers me how much he’s left on his own. The narrative just has no idea what to use him for other than speedy transport for the first um… 200 pages, it seems? He’s meant to be his own creature with his own intelligence. He doesn’t go anywhere without Murtagh though. So what is he doing all the time

I think Paolini WANTS his world to be big and mysterious (his introduction literally just keeps saying things in the world of the story are mysterious) but he HAS to keep explaining everything

24 November 2023

I’ve figured out something that annoys me about the world of this book, in terms of just how the worldbuilding is not actually that magical. It has the D&D problem!!! Which is to say that every regular person on earth is Level One and every important character is like, level 12. And part of what makes that even worse is that all women in this world are level zero.

I’ve been watching my friend Chris play the first Alan Wake game and we realised that all the faceless enemies that are possessed by Evil in the game are… working class men. The protagonist is this literate wealthy New York writer who is constantly killing faceless workers—farmers, loggers, coal miners, builders. And that’s not an INTENTIONAL commentary by the game, but it’s very revealing. And This book is the same in that: there is no such thing as a complicated poor person. They’re all either Dirty Evil or Dirty Good. Murtagh is going around, writing poetry in his head and inventing magical computer code, and then every child is an urchin who is like Oi Guvnah, and every dad is gruff, and every woman is worried.

The language used to describe everyone who isn’t a Fighting Man is so demeaning. And even then, we only need to respect the leaders of those men. The leaders are the only ones with depth who might need to be taken seriously.

It’s like Murtagh has a tally in his head where he is going “finally, a guy who is level 6”!

Most people in this world exist to deliver information to the protagonist.

Paolini either thinks his readers are too dumb to understand that his characters exist between scenes, or he doesn’t understand himself that we don’t need to see every time Murtagh enters a city under a new name and how he does it. Or know what he ate for dinner and how he prepared it and where he slept and what he dreamed and, and, and—

It’s weird because Paolini is being self indulgent as fuck but it is NOT fun to read. This dude really just needs to go write a survival story or something… A guy in the woods depending on nothing but his wits and his axe and his beard and his libertarian values

I don’t understand the stakes at play. All the magic scenes with Mind Penetration are so sudden and hard to actually understand as action. And the way it works is about brute force, so the dragon is not going to be at risk of being taken over except by another, even bigger dragon

It would be fun to read the Murtagh city sleuth segments if Thorn was backseat driving a little. I think that their bond should not get thinner over distance. The fact that it does just defeats the point of a magical bond.

Why does the dragon have to stay so far away? Like… it’s established that there’s a spell to conceal a dragon from sight. Dude. You could just go fucking invisible

There’s so many decisions that just are so bonkers to have made. The whole fetch quest for information pissed me off so bad. “You have to join the guard” (40 pages of emotions about uniforms ensue). This guy learned about plots from video games

Paolini had kids apparently, but you can tell he doesn’t really understand kids. “How do they all start out so innocent and pure,” says a man who has never heard a seven year old describe someone being killed by farts before.

The description of Murtagh carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried is very funny. I don’t know if Paolini has ever carried a cat before. If you’re carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried close to your chest, and you tighten your grip when it squirms… say goodbye to your nipples, my man

It’s strange how much Paolini doesn’t explore the things that seem to be the point. FOR EXAMPLE, the fantasy soul bond trope loves to say “even during sex!??! 👀” because it’s about INTIMACY, and some alien presence always being there. The dragon rider trope is popular because dragons are powerful and wise but also Beasts. Magic is fun to read about because it can do things that can’t be explained.

Paolini’s world is big, but nothing in it has any real substance. Nothing in it has any real consequence, and it makes it impossible to really invest in anything that happens. None of these poor city folks have a life once they leave the scene of delivering Murtagh information… or if they are a woman, delivering him a hot meal. There’s no sense of a world that exists outside Murtagh’s point of view!

25 November 2023

The towns so far don’t feel at all distinctive to me! I was interested in the one with the massive lake, but then it having this massive fish in it was the only point of interest. It would be fun to have been like “oh the fish has ruined our summer festival! It’s ruined the nobility pleasure cruises! It’s also eating fishermen!” Or “Why do all these fishing boats have huge spikes on the prow? Well,”

Again, these guys are all level one in peasant dirt town. They have no capacity for individual thought and no ability to adapt.

It’s like Paolini doesn’t know what makes people and places in fantasy feel distinct, or have culture. It’s so evident in how much he HASN’T thought about. For example, the bonkers amount of restrictive gender norms that he doesn’t seem AT ALL CONSCIOUS OF? Everyone who died in the war was A Man. No women died in the war. But that hasn’t resulted in any social changes. There aren’t more women doing work, for example, like being fishermen

I remember being thirteen or so and reading the bit in the second book where Arya explains to Eragon that she’s better and stronger than a human woman, because she is an elf, so Eragon doesn’t have to worry about her in battle. I was this kid there like “man, that sucks. I assume he’s coming back to that assumption later,” and… he never did. He still hasn’t. And that sucks

The dragon riders were not THAT long ago, in the world of these books. It makes me wonder—were none of them human women? I always assumed that some were human women, but… did dragons only choose elf men, elf women, and human men? If they chose human women, then even being accepted into a paramilitary dragon force didn’t change gender expectations in the rest of the world. What the fuck. He’s really never thought about this.

Women keep showing up as cunning-mysterious, as humble dirtmothers, or as innocent children. Oh my god I’m just describing maiden mother crone. That’s all he’s capable of.

I just got up to where he rescues the werecat baby (innocent girl child) and settles in to hear the stories of elder werecat (cunning-mysterious)

I noticed the Arya Problem with how Nasuada is described in this book, too. Every woman has to be the best, most capable, most powerful woman ever, to be worth the attention of The Boys. Otherwise they can’t respect her. Only two literal queens can be considered worthy of just two average guys who got pet lizards. Even then, they’re not actual equals.

“She still empathised for me.” Yes, don’t worry, Murtagh, I remember that’s what women are for.

I should note that the reason Nasuada is considered so powerful and so much worthy of his love and is her strength as a person. This is proven in the Eragon books because “she still empathised” with Murtagh whilst he was medieval torturing her. He was medieval torturing her for like… most of a book and that’s how they fell in love. Because she could see in his eyes that this guy torturing her… was Complicated. He didn’t really WANT to be medieval torturing her so she actually felt worse for him than he felt about how he was (and I can’t stress this enough) medieval torturing her

I just can’t imagine that THE QUEEN OF A WHOLE CONTINENT would still prefer the guy who sadly tortured her. He’s her top preference. Out of EVERY OTHER MAN IN THE WORLD

I put the book down until the day before I was meant to have finished the book for book club:

10 March 2024: from page 274 onwards

The evil witch is called BACHEL?????!!?!??!? Fucking BACHEL. Pronounced “buh-SHELL”, the guide at the back says. You changed one letter in Rachel, don’t lie to me Paolini

I got so mad being reminded the evil king Galbatorix was defeated by “Eragon forcing empathy upon him” so that he magically exploded himself out of guilt that I had to put the book down and complain to Charlie for five straight minutes

I guess that’s why Galbatorix made Murtagh torture Nasuada for him. He knew that if he’d done it himself she would have empathised with him too hard and he would’ve exploded himself

Murtagh has never met a single person he has respected. Murtagh is the specialest boy in all the land. Eragon had to leave the country because they were both too special to share a continent

Murtagh decided on where to go and he was immediately surrounded by armed guards who took him to where the plot was

Paolini uses the fucking word “admixed” while discussing EATING A PIE. The flavours admixed in his mouth. Just because you know a word… doesn’t mean it’s a word to deploy about eating a pie

I HATE how the only people strong enough to do the strongest magic are Elves Or Human Riders. It’s fucking magic my guy! Why is it checking your goddamn DNA! Also, hey! Wasn’t it supposed to come down to the strongest wizards being the guys who ate the most for lunch?

In a world of Magic how come every wizard battle ultimately comes down to who is a better Professor X?? I came here for fireballs, not Mind Battles. I don’t care about your Mental Wards

Hahaha Murtagh!!! Get trapdoored, bitch!!!!

Dragon panic attacks: conceptually cool but a bit ?? Like ah… the plot literally comes to scoop him up and carry him away. Yet again something outside of Murtagh makes a decision for him about what to do next

Murtagh’s poetry is going to make me explode myself like Galbatorix in book 4

If there’s something I like about this book so far it’s just the bits where he and Thorn are camping. Not flying, because then Murtagh is using the time to think and that’s horrible. The bits where they make campfires or whatever feel like something is actually happening. A guy and his dragon hanging out

Man. The way this novel is plotted really reminds me that it’s not actually that hard to write a book.

Murtagh goes to the evil village (oh yeah there’s an evil village. It is where Bachel lives. She is evil because she does magic without using the magic language). The village is called:

NAL GORGOTH

But I couldn’t remember this so I kept referring to it in my head by another, more familiar, name

Murtagh is so freaked out by finding a village with architecture that he doesn’t recognise. He’s like “My god!!! Nasuada has to be warned!!!” Ok but about what??? New ways of building pillars???? The art deco movement threatens the land??

Kinda fascinated by how much this village represents a threat to CULTURE. The architecture, the people… Everything about it so far is designed to be A Foreign Threat. The inhabitants are Of All Races (except elves they are too cool too pure etc). The humans have A VARIETY OF SKIN COLOURS, which memorably never happens in Alagaesia, a continent once explicitly described in the Eragon books as only having two (2) black people on it at all (then one died) (the other is Nasuada) (the one who died was her dad)

This guy with a goatee isn’t quite human. He is maybe part urgal and he is so uncomfortable to look at! Mainly he has arms that are a bit too long!! Bachel isn’t a human and also isn’t an elf, and that’s also deeply unsettling.

Bachel also fundamentally represents a threat to THE STRUCTURING POWER OF LANGUAGE, huh??

Bachel is so far the most interesting character in the book!

Bachel has: ALMOND EYES and AMBER SKIN

Murtagh is so upset and confused when Bachel calls him “my son” like… I’m cryign. “But she’s not my mother! I know my mother!!” he thinks, in a panic.

If this was a fantasy novel written twenty to thirty years ago, then the sexual tension between Murtagh and Bachel would be absolutely insane. Alas, this is a world of abstinence, and sexuality is only ever meaningful looks between a queen and the guy who tortured her (it is weird how he keeps caressing Nasuada’s face on the gold coins)

It’s very funny that Bachel has specifically fourteen warriors. The prose keeps telling us that there’s fourteen of them. So you get Murtagh stepping forwards and then sentences like “the fourteen warriors attending Bachel shifted”

She seems like a perfectly normal cult leader to me? Why is she automatically a threat to Nasuada! How come the two of them can’t arrange a toxic political marriage that becomes… something more 😉😉😉

Nothing annoys me more in this book than Murtagh being able to identify specific vintages of wine. It keeps happening and it pisses me off

Bachel is a half elf!!! “It had never occurred to him that such a thing might be possible.” This is truly and absolutely unbelievable to me. Nobody in this world ever has sex

How did it take so long to get to such an objectively cool village!!! Like this is just a cool place!!! Sorry that Nar Nar Goon is evil but like FINALLY something has style

Three thoughts at once:

I’m so bored that Paolini’s mind can’t get more interesting than temple virgins, let alone wearing white to represent ritualistic purity. Like… nobody in this world fucks anyway, why does it matter!

Murtagh should also wear white all the time

Lesbianism doesn’t count as a violation of being temple chosen. Alín is wearing lesbianism

Paolini has never once written a woman who is Normal. He just can’t conceive of it. You can feel how he starts sweating.

Murtagh finally realised it was a cult. What sets it apart as a cult is that the followers appear to be “half-wits” to him

I’m going to detransition to break his fucking neck

Paolini has learned nothing since he had a woman deliver the exact same line in like 2008. The fact that another editor just thumbsed this up. The fact that this is in a book published in 2023. Well, now I’m REALLY embarking on an antagonistic reading: that’s right, I am reading women as capable.

Obsessed with Bachel. She is a girlboss and I’m a feminist xxx

Book is constantly weird about how much she is capable of eating and drinking at her feasts and how it makes her appear swollen and bloated etc etc. Murtagh is so weirded out by this because he feels it is unfeminine… as though she is not a witch and we weren’t told earlier that how much magic you have is directly equal to how much you eat. (Meanwhile he is only picking at his food and eating just enough of it ‘to be polite’ as though this is not making a decision to have less magic than her)

She has so much charisma compared to anyone else in the book. If my choices are her or Murtagh then sign me up boys!!!

Okay but much like how this would’ve been a VERY charged relationship 30 years ago, I’m weirdly disappointed Bachel she isn’t not described as megahot? Like the book keeps telling me about this virginal templemaiden or whatever, because Murtagh is only attracted to women he can rescue. But I’m actually just like… I think this woman is hot. Tell me more about her. It’s wild that this book is written by a guy like Paolini, who told me all about Oromis’ pubic hair in 2008, and who barely thinks women are people. Yet he doesn’t want to discuss her tiddies?

This book could, and should! have started when Murtagh landed his dragon in the evil village of Nar Nar Goon. That’s the point that stuff got actually interesting. Everything before this was literally video game fetch quest logic plotting that earned him the right to fly to Nar Nar Goon.

Boar hunt. More like BORED hunt. And then suddenly there are so many pigs, a comical number of them flying everywhere

This motherfucker using the phrase “the boar was lying athwart him” in a sentence in an action scene????

Murtagh is nearly dead and the boar is lying athwart him?

I’m going back in time and bullying the author at school

RIP Murtagh, trambled to death by 30-50 wild hogs

Oh god every time someone knocks Murtagh out he has a vision or a bad dream or a flashback or whatever and it’s so tiring

“EXISTENCE WAS A TOMB WHEREIN THE SINS OF THE PAST LAID INTERRED???” Do you ever read a sentence that sounds so much like the author is jerking it? “All had been lost, and there before him lay the instrument of their destruction” he is furiously jerking it oh my god. “Destroyer of hope, eater of light” oh, god, he’s still going

…This book is. Weird about mothers

Murtagh flies into a rage because Bachel mercy killed a guy who was dying bc of boar trampling because “I COULD HAVE HEALED HIM!!!!!” And the mercy killing is proof it is a cult. Because doing it Bachel’s way meant the guy was too relaxed and at peace when he died

Paolini’s family were in a cult, as I understand. So it’s kind of weird how much he doesn’t really understand how being in a cult works

I don’t really remember how religion works in this world, but I do remember tuning out of a long boring passage in book 2 or 3 where Eragon learned about all the gods and decided he was an atheist. It’s especially weird to be like “holy shit, an EVIL religion??!” In a book where religion has absolutely never come up before now

Oh my god, Alìn was whipped for being ‘too familiar’ with Murtagh!!! That’s because she’s so pure and a helpless victim girl in all white :’((

In my mind Bachel and Alìn COULD be in a fucked up lesbian relationship with bad BDSM etiquette. Of course Paolini can’t imagine a world where women have enough personality or agency to fall in toxic love with each other. Also even though he has people tied up and strapped down and whipped and being tortured etc in every book don’t think he knows that BDSM like. Exists. Boooooo

Murtagh: killing one guy who is dying of a punctured lung is the ultimate evil!

Also Murtagh: I know an invisibility spell, but to sneak out of my room I am going to suffocate seven men to death

Genuinely upsetting to read those men dying. He made it impossible for air to enter or exit their lungs with a word. Veins popping clawing at faces etc. God, what a way to go. So unnecessarily cruel. Yep, there goes the good guy

The main way the village is evil is that there are unsettling carvings everywhere. Paolini read some Lovecraft, but he did not understand what was up with it. Or maybe he did, because this book did get a lot more weird about Racial Purity once Murtagh arrived in Lovecraft Village

11 March 2024

There’s a bloodstain that “filled Murtagh with the apprehension of evil” and it confused me because these books are so gory. Earlier he killed four men with a fork. But like oh yeah I guess it’s because when Murtagh murders people now it’s bloodless. I guess. His murders are good you see

This chapter is called The Bad Sleep-Well you can tell Paolini thought he was a real genius for this one

Okay but why are there bats… roosting… in a cave… at night. And why is Murtagh worried that red light will risk waking them? Animals cannot see red light?? SOME FARM BOY YOU ARE, PAOLINI

Okay I have to stop nitpicking. I have to restrain myself until my Vyvanse kicks in

“Murtagh felt a sense of not just age but antiquity. Whoever had built the stairs had done so long before Alagaesia had been a settled place. What was it Bachel had said? That the cultists had lived in Nal Gorgoth since before elves were elves... He was starting to think she had told the truth.”

Sorry uhhhh, Alagaesia was settled?? When they talk about The Grey Ones, are they talking about a race PRIOR TO COLONISATION?????????

“He continued forward. Deeper into the womb of the earth. Deeper into the black unknown, seeking, seeking, always seeking a farther shore, every sense razor-sharp and razor-scraped, skin all goosefleshed, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck and gathering around his belted waist.”

God it’s so overwrought...

He found the well!!

Oh my god. The well is a natural magic hotspot and that means it “wasn’t the sort of thing that the Draumar ought to have dominion over.” It’s a natural resource???

“Not that he would want Du Vrangr Gata to assume control over such an important location either. This was exactly what the Riders had been created for: to oversee and mediate that which could destabilize the land.”

Murtagh is going to bring democracy to the Middle East

He’s too scared to mentally contact his dragon with Bachel around. If he was a proper horse girl he would find a way

Oh Galbatorix BECAME evil because he met Bachel and she manipulated him. Haha oh dear. No, you can’t just come to the conclusion the dragon rider paramilitary force who controls the resources are bad on your own. Not just because they sent you into the mountains when they knew it was dangerous and wanted to find out if you’d be killed up there! No, a manipulation had to have happened

It’s funny to me that the evil ancient witch queen who lives in seclusion in the mountains uses the new name for the city of Uru’baen. Oh no, she knows it as Ilirea. She’s hundreds and hundreds of years old. You know what that is? Evidence of Find And Replace, to me.

Bachel’s eyes are “glowing with fevered ecstasy.” I could make her feel that way. Also. Because, I know about sex

Always with the fucking passing out at the end of the chapter for Christopher James Paolini

NOW Bachel is being described appropriately as a hottie. FINALLY. GOD! It only took Murtagh being mind controlled in his brain but I. I!!! I could see the glorious light of truth!!

“He followed, dumb and wildered.” Well, not as much as that sentence. (You can be bewildered. But can you ever just be wildered????)

The dedication to making Murtagh the most pitiful little meow meow in existence in the Galbatorix flashbacks I’m… what happened to the joys of a guy who is evil because he was convinced or was tricked, not because he was fully brain abused???

The Urgals are racially… uncomfortable. Yellow eyes and Murtagh just straight up saying “how do you speak English”

The evil guys have masks and they put them on and like channel the animals the masks are of and on one hand it’s an idea I THINK is cool but also combined with the everything it really has this “tribal stuff is threatening” vibe all over it

“What do you want, witch?”

“I want you.”

Obsessed with how he’s shackled to a table and there’s still an incredible lack of sexual energy to this scene. This is like a day at the office for both of them.

… oh, but she is wearing claws and claws DOES equal a threat of penetration. Maybe a little sexual? As a treat??

Him being tortured reminds him of torturing Nasuada. Wow, it was their first date!

It’s just like. It’s fucked up imo. She should never kiss you Murtagh!!!

Is anything more boring than a torture scene.

Also, was he not drugged right before this scene? How is he able to mentally evade her and power his wards etc?

I’m mad that when he’s brought fancy foods by Alìn he doesn’t share his food with Ubek the Urgal

Oh my god Ubek tells him a story where the moral is just him outright saying at the end, “it’s important to stay close to the people we care for, even if we don’t always fit in so easily” lmao. Subtlety of a mallet

Is anything more boring than a torture scene? How about a torture chapter!!!1!1!1!

This chapter is interminable. Oh my god.

Oh, so we did all that and he gives in I guess. I can’t believe how little agency this man has had throughout this book????

Haha oh my god, Bachel is studying his nude and compliant body in front of her court. Telling him to turn around so she can inspect his back (no mention of his ass even though it is out, tragic). Fucking love it. Now that’s bdsm. Pledging my allegiance to her instantly.

I am BORED. I liked when he was at least doing things of his own volition!

He flies his dragon off on Bachel’s orders and we get the line “Never had air smelled so… so… delicious.” Cryign

GASP he’s killed… CHILDREN!!!!!!! I hate how it only becomes horrifying for him to have done these murders once he realises they’re HUMAN children. Urgal children? The implication is that would’ve been a bit tacky but ultimately fine

Prison brothers blood pact. I feel so little about this. Ubek is 5000x more interesting than Murtagh but he’s been slotted into what is unfortunately a sort of magical indigenous person trope but where instead of being a human being, he is an orc. Which makes the whole trope much worse

Murtagh touched Alìn’s face… gasp! She’s been corrupted by the Touch Of A Man!!!!! (I do not care about this.)

(I care a little. For example she didn’t touch HIM. He just reached out and she didn’t pull away. This is the biggest decision about this character’s life, and she isn’t even allowed to be the one who makes it. He decides on her behalf, and she must be okay with it. Because she doesn’t pull away or fight him off.)

(Also Paolini doesn’t seem to be aware that ‘a woman who has been pledged not to be touched by a man’ would um. USUALLY be understood by a reader as euphemistic. Not that her purity could be forever ruined by a man literally just touching her face)

The way Paolini fills Murtagh’s brainwashed dialogue with oops all ellipses makes me want to tear the book apart with my teeth

Worst: how Grieve the guy who is part urgal is perpetually referred to as “heavy-browed.” “the heavy-browed Grieve” I’m sorry but I missed phrenology school, is that bad??

Also if he’s maybe part Urgal but Murtagh is now given a chance to making it clear that some of his best friends are urgals... Why is Grieve so distastefully described? What’s wrong with being half urgal? My suspicion: it’s the bloodlines intermingling

I suspect I can just skip every fucking dream sequence and flashback. Nothing of any value in these

This one guy, Lyreth, who trapdoored Murtagh for 2.5 seconds ages ago in the book, is TWICE referenced as holding/ touching the waists of “village” or “cultist” women in his dialogue tags. That’s the full extent of it. It’s not that there’s a giggling tavern girl sprawled in his lap while he’s speaking. These faceless women are exclusively sketched into existence by how a named male character’s hand is on their waist. We don’t know anything about how they are responding to his touch, which is extra in-your-face considering that Murtagh just obliterated a woman’s ritual purity by touching her face without asking. And it’s only ever these women’s waist. It’s not their hips or thighs or boobs. He’s not kissing their necks. I’m sure in Paolini’s mind this guy touching women’s waists is meant to read as sexual, which is supposed to reinforce that he’s a scumbag… but it doesn’t work because it’s so impersonal. These women are just… unmoving waists that he is just touching. It serves as a good illustration of how women—and sex and sexuality and bodies—are handled in these books. Men are never ruled by their strong and muscular bodies. Men have minds, and magic, and telepathy battles. Even when Murtagh is on a torture table or when he’s naked in front of a powerful woman who is actively inspecting his body, he doesn’t feel vulnerable. He doesn’t have an ass or a dick. The wind doesn’t make him shiver. He’s just a Mind. But women, well. They only have bodies when men touch them. The course of Alin’s life is defined by Murtagh’s touch, and even Nasuada, a fucking queen, only gets physical description via the coins Murtagh has in his possession and his memory of the cuts and bruises he left on her body. And women also have no minds—unless they’re werecats or elves or half elves, the only kind of woman who are remotely threatening, the only kind of women who are “as good as” the baseline of human men. Nasuada is proven as Murtagh’s equal because she was able to overcome the torture of her body. If he hadn’t tortured her, or if she had broken down, she wouldn’t have proven herself worthy of being his romantic partner.

Eragon’s romantic interest also started out being tortured. Not by him, but “girl who is tortured but is too strong to give up her secrets” was her entire characterisation for a book and a half, until he rescued her. That’s uh. That’s how you find girlfriends who are good enough for your protagonists.

THESE FUCKING BOOKS.

Bachel has put Thorn in a special wrought iron muzzle. Yet again, this is just objectively cool

We learn about who the cult worships: evil dragon underground. He makes fumes come out of the earth and they brainwash people and give them visions. He will come out of the ground and eat the sun unless every living thing worships him.

Really Bachel is not leading a cult she is leading an environmental rescue mission. Quick we gotta get everyone to worship this evil dragon STAT, or he’s going to wipe out all life on earth.

Why does an evil dragon living under the earth with the power to eat the sun (?!??!) actually want or need to be worshipped by “every living thing”. What is his motivation?? And why would that stop him eating the sun?

“The sculptures would have horrified most any artist in Alagaesia, no matter their race.” Mark this down as one of the worst sentences he has written yet!!

I realise now I’ve been misremembering multiple main characters’ names

I like Bachel telling Thorn to stay, like he’s a dog. That’s good to me

Murtagh is learning about the power of friendship to heal himself last minute, I guess

Why is Murtagh pausing to duel fucking Lyreth, the most boring man in the world. Is it because of the waists he touched??? I have never felt this man was worth any time at all

NOT Paolini specifically pointing out that Lyreth “smelled of a cloying peach scented perfume” and that he’s physically weaker than Murtagh as Murtagh overcomes him. Lyreth was too feminine to be strong, in the end

This book is obsessed with the word “youngling.” Murtagh says to Thorn “don’t kill any younglings.” He’s fighting Lyreth but he’s not worried because he himself is “no longer a youngling”. Fucking fuck off! just say youth. Child. Kid. Teenager even!! Come on!!

Murtagh going “this is taking too long” in the duel: me at the whole book thus far

“Is wrong-think to worship Bachel or Azlagur,” says Ubek. This is real dialogue in a book published in real 2023. Oh yeah btw everything he says is written like this

Oh, the urgal’s size and brute strength makes him Murtagh’s equal. I see

Grieve is legitimately yelling “kill the non-believers!!” and calling them desecrators??? Cartoon hours

To start winning the fight, all Murtagh had to do was find his magic sword! It stores all his potency and he inherited it from his father. Freud?? Don’t worry about it

The cultists are bleeding green blood???? Does this mean they’re not human or is it the lighting or what.

Groups of dragons are always being described as a Thunder Of. They’re only ever being described in visions but it’s always being described as “a thunder of dragons”, because Paolini is very proud of inventing his very own collective noun for dragons I guess

Buncha little pasty freaks showing up.

Murtagh’s ultimate challenge: he has to fight one hundred gollums

Paolini inventing new guys for his dungeon at unprecedented rates

Murtagh is legitimately busy trying to think of new names for his sword NOW?? He is just going to stop in the middle of this urgent fight to go find where the bad woman (Bachel) took the good woman (Alìn) to go “my sword has a bad name. It could have a good name.” Did he not have time while he was mouldering in the dungeon to think about this

He’s checking his compendium, like in video games.

Books have never been worse. If Murtagh/Paolini calls this sword Scar I will legitimately never know peace

Oh the sword is called Freedom now. Get it? Like America? It’s the most important value??

“Seeing the armor, Murtagh realized that the leather garb the cultists had donned for the festival of black smoke had been made to resemble Bachel's fantastic suit.”

what a sentence

This is the worst

I hate how her spear has a name and a dramatic history. Like come on

Fucking mind battles again

Alin is just… I’m sorry to her, but she’s not a real person. She’s a cardboard cutout in distress

The final boss fight should not be taking place in the magical world of the mind

Now she’s calling him “infidel?” Okay

The ultimate battle: the structuring power of masculine language versus the primeval chaos of raw women’s emotion!!! Who will win!! Hint: Christopher Paolini wrote this!

“She seemed merely a woman again.”

‘Merely’ is how Paolini always describes women (when he thinks they’re worth describing of course)

Wait… is the only reason Bachel has been intimidating REALLY just because she’s been channelling a tough evil boy dragon? Once the mask is gone and he’s not empowering her… she’s merely…

I’m going to kick Christopher Paolini’s fucking ass

Murtagh feels so emotionally close to Bachel. As he splits her skull. Normal book

For real why were ALL the Riders so afraid of Bachel??? The gas fumes? Face masks not invented?? This seems pretty easy to solve like if they’d just. Sent more than one guy?

He passes out and the chapter ends of course. Then he wakes up in the city

Ah, Alin is blonde and blue eyed. She was a pale skinned virgin who needed rescuing from an evil and also foreign almond eyed amber skinned woman who was whipping her. You know how it goes

I hate how Alìn always calls Murtagh “my lord.” She’s like one of those medieval fighting game banners of a sexy woman. She’s a cartoon.

Isn’t it a shame that when Murtagh hastily gets out of bed to bow to Nasuada he is wearing pants. So much funnier if he wasn’t

I’m so over this book holy shit

Oh, for being the apparently only sole survivor of Murtagh’s obliteration of her cult and everything she’s ever known, Alìn is being promoted to… Nasuada’s maid. That’s not what she asked for. That’s just what she’s being told she’s going to do from now on. Fucking hell.

Nasuada is Jealous of this blonde woman and I was afraid for her because Nasuada is also famously the only black woman on the continent. But of course she has nothing to fear because only the most powerful woman in the land could ever be remotely Murtagh’s equal, which she proved by being stronger at being tortured than him

She asks him to stay and she touches his hand just lightly

The END??

They don’t even kiss?!!!?!! I had to read it twice to be sure. SEXLESS BOOK.

#how do I tag this. probs not in the official tag right #Murtagh: Don’t Read It!!!#DONT READ IT #I can’t believe how much money Christopher Paolini is worth… I also can’t believe he managed to father two children #man doesn’t know what women children OR sex are. how did he manage to solve that equation twice over

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leejenowrld · 3 months

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i wanna ask a few questions about the fic but could u answer as if i’m questioning jeno and yn??

to jeno - when did you realise you fell in love with yn? and when did you you realise you had feelings for her? what’s your favourite thing about yn? what’s your favourite sex position with her? is there anything she does which makes you smile and fall in love all over again? does yn do anything that gets on your nerves? what are your favourite qualities and features about yn?

and for yn… every question that i just asked but for jeno

omg! yes! i love this. this is such a good idea wtf

when did you realise you had feelings for each other?

jeno - i always thought she was pretty, the first time i looked at her something inside me went crazy. but i realised i had feelings for her when we was watching a movie and she was giggling so much, smiling and she just looked so cute and adorable. i don’t think she realised this because she was so interested in the movie but i didn’t pay attention to the film, i was looking at her and grinning like an idiot. she also kept resting her head against my shoulder and it killed me, she also accidentally hit my forehead with the remote and then kissed it to make it better… yeah i went crazy what’s more insane is that she didn’t realise how insane she drove me

yn - the first time i looked at jeno i thought he was very charming, handsome and sweet. i feel like i fell for him over a long period of time, it was little instances that made me feel this way. his kindness, he would always buy me my favourite coffee before we used to study and i never even told him what it was… i mean i told him once! but i didn’t expect him to remember. his intelligence, i mean just listen to my man speak and you’ll fall in love 😍 and he was always just so attentive and kind to me, i always felt listened and heard and it just drove my heart crazy

when did you fall in love?

jeno - it was one of my times we fucked, after i took her out and she was getting so horny and desperate she rode me in my car. she was doing most of the work, using me to get off and god… thinking about it right now makes me fall in love with her all over again. just looking into her eyes as she rode me, hearing the pretty little noises spill from her mouth, it was a moment where i thought ‘i can get used to her moaning my name’ i genuinely folded i looked into her eyes and i saw the future fr. i realised it fully

yn - i fell in love slowly over time. he made me feel a lot. i realised i fell in love every time we had more lovng sex. just looking in his eyes all night long as he moved so sensually inside of me… fuck. the sensation of being with him just made my heart feel so heavy and at the time it made me feel both good and bad things, my anxiety got in the way of me fully embracing the love but now i look back on me falling in love with a fondness that i never did before. i love him. a lot.

what’s your favourite thing about each other?

jeno - god, where do i start? i love her heart, she feels a lot and is the most empathetic person. watching her give love and care to everyone just makes my insides go so warm. she’s so open minded and she isn’t shallow, i love every thought she has and she’s so understanding. i can always trust her with my emotions. i take the piss out of her for it but i also love how shy and reserved she is. it’s just something i find so cute. she barely talks to anyone when we’re out and it just makes her so chill and calm to be with. but she is the complete opposite with me… she talks so much i get headaches. i love her though.

yn - i love how confident he is. he always stands up for what’s right and seeing him defend me or my friends makes me so :))) i love him for it. i also love how he’s so multifaceted. he’s smart, he’s sexy, he’s kind, he has a big heart, he’s sociable. i could go on and on. he’s just got so many good qualities and assets. he’s just so interesting to me. i could listen to him talk forever. i love how he loves me. he makes me feel loved and appreciated, it’s one thing telling me you love me but he’s one of the first people to make me feel like my presence truly has an impact :) i find it so hard opening up to people but i warmed up to him so quick. he’s my best friend and the love of my life all in one.

favourite sex position

jeno - i love doggy, reverse cowgirl, i love when she rides me, i love when we’re standing and fucking, i love having her against the wall

yn - i think i love missionary the most. nothing beats making love all night long, our bodies moulding against each other as we smile, giggle, kiss and look into each others eyes all night long. but i also love when jeno has me in all different positions all night long. most of the time i’m so fucked out of it i don’t know what the position actually is, he just manhandles me and i’m here for it!! i love it. all i know is that i get drunk off his cock :) and i will be that way forever

is there anything the other does which makes you smile and fall in love all over again?

jeno - yeah. [giggles and smiles] she talks in her sleep. she gets so tired and will just talk nonsense and none of it makes sense but it makes her look so cute. i have so many videos of it. she moans my name in her sleep aswell, it’s hot. i also just love falling asleep with her, whether we’ve fucked or not, she’s just so fucking cute, she holds onto me so tightly and i never wanna let her go. she’s mine. my girl. i want her in my arms forever. i also love how cute she looks when she greets me, when we meet up she gets shy and it just makes me so ??? we’ve been together for so long, i’ve see her naked every day and have seen her in the most sexy and compromising positions but she still gets so shy when we meet up for dates and she’s dressed all pretty. yeah, i’m gonna marry her.

yn - i fall in love every time he surprises me and treats me. he works his ass off, my baby has to get up at 5am and doesn’t come home until 3pm :( nearly every day and it’s not like he gets the best sleep cus he spends it up all night fucking me. but he never complains. he works so hard. he continues to treat me every day and he never lets me pay for anything :( he’s taken me on getaways, holidays, concerts, expensive restaurants, festivals… the list goes on and on. i just love how he shows his love for me. he cleans my house, cooks for me and does our laundry and he does this without me asking <3

do you get on each others nerves?

jeno - nothing too serious. sometimes she’ll ignore me for the whole day cus she’s studying :( what annoys me is that she forgets to take breaks and overworks herself. sometimes she just gets really snappy with me when she’s stressed but i can take it, she always apologises. it doesn’t lead to anything major.

yn - sometimes he can be very out there and it’s overwhelming. i know he can’t help it but it makes me feel very … that so many people know him and idk i just don’t like attention but being with jeno is getting attention when i didn’t want it. but it’s ok. even though it irks me, i know how to deal with it <3

favourite physical features about each other?

jeno - i love her eyes. especially when she looks into me with so much love and i can see them dilate. she has a sweet smile and i love her pussy the most.

yn - i love his arms!! they’re so hench and yum. i love his nose too. i love everything

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spamgyu · 17 days

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Why hello darling, what a good morning isn't it? Or is it night time? I don't even know cuz I'm crying sobbing dying over the seungcheol angst because 'it was fun'? 'Thank you'? Like wtf?!! And they're both in so much pain, god, it's like I remembered how I felt when I first read one of your stories, which was backburner btw and woman, you're out to kill me but I ain't complaining. You see what the problem is?? Anywho, thanks for that lovely angst, and well, just so you know, it's my first time getting pcs and it's not even for me, I wanted to gift them to a friend, so I guess I'm a fellow fake fan eh?

Moving on, I just saw cheol in the red hair and what am I supposed to even say? Like, I haven't seen that man in so long and when I finally do, he's red????? He's out to ruin us all and well, I'm masochistic enough to let him, omg, I'm actually losing it aren't I?

Also, I love your little drabbles on the cara's groupies in your asks, they're always so much fun to read☺️

hi hello good... day??? (stan life is so crazy bc why are we all just talking to each other in diff timezones)

LSDKFJLSDFKJ okay i've seen so many people cry/throw up at that part and i feel like i wanna break it down:

I wrote that part so ...... simple but it holds a lot of weight because weirdly enough, most long term relationships – end so simply. Sometimes people just wake up one day and realize that oh okay maybe this isn't for me. Seungcheol took control of that conversation because he kind of pulled the rug from under OC, no warning no red flags just straight up "Let's end this" In my head, she was caught so off guard by his sudden statement of wanting to end their story, but also being with him long enough to know there was no use in fighting – she just allowed it?? Him saying "It was fun, thank you" was his way of consoling her. Remember, I wrote this angst with his pressure of being a leader and being in Seventeen in mind. It's shitty but not all break ups have explanations and sometimes people allow the stress and their .... situations take control of their emotions

Anyways idk if that made sense lol

ALSO LMFAOOOO pls Backburner angst i lskfjlsdkjfsldkf the angst from that fic actually exhausted me where I had to take a break bc I felt it so heavily (me, an empath who self inserted)

BUT LETS GET TO THE GOOD PART: Cheol with red hair I know the girlies love him with black and peak-a-boo blonde (im girlies) but damn that red..... esp during hhu stage.......... ooooooofffff at the end of the day i am just a girl

#AS FOR CARAS GROUPIES I HAVE SO MANY ASKS ABOUT IT I SWEAR ILL GET TO MORE OF IT IM JUST....... in a angsty pain mood #spamasks

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feathers-feathers · 7 months

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Bug Fables' deep lore is engaging in open warfare with my mental helath i swear to GOD I CAnt figure this tHE FUCK OUT IM GOING INSANE

Context: I'm trying to make a timeline. Bug fables took this personally.

The big question here that got me to break is what the fuck is the deal with Flower Gods? So I was writing an essay of sorts to try and figure it out as I go, then clean it up and post it when I came to a few satisfying conclusions, and maybe make a poll to see what others would prefer.

I have now lost at least a decade of my lifespan, and will be seeking reparations in the court of law. I'll post what I wrote below the cut, just be aware that it's not finished, will not be finished if I have a gun to my head, and jumps places every now and then because that's just how I roll in the drafting stage.

I hope to all the gods above that some of you can find sense where I have failed.

Beware: Here be dragons. (Also, it's quite long.)

BEGIN

Currently doing timeline shenanigans with Bug Fables. I learned something in the lore that will have a major impact in how that timeline manifests. The problem is that this lore detail isn't exactly straight-forward, and has multiple interpretations. I'd like to see some other thoughts on this matter before I make a decision. The lore in question is regarding the creation of the Flower Gods.

A reminder: There is a secret room in Snakemouth Den that displays information regarding the 3 Flower Gods. Prior to seeing this room, most I think didn't even know there were 3 - only knowing of Venus at the time. The other two are Mars and Pluto. These displays tell us a few things. Some information on the gods themselves: Venus is

Guardian: M-001 "Mars" Age: 361 Status: Stable

Guardian: V-012 "Venus" Age: 358 Status: Stable

Guardian: P-183 "Pluto" Age: 34 Status: Stable

This secret asks a whole bunch of questions and answers exactly none of them.

The first thought I see many people go to is that this, of course, confirms that the Roaches created them. However, there is dialogue from Venus herself stating "Ah, it still feels like it was yesterday when they were scurrying around the land trying to get stuff together!" Which doesn't say much, but sort of implies that she was around while the Roaches were still figuring things out.

But what about those designations, what do they mean? For something like this - and considering they all start with the first letter of the Guardian's name - I think it's, like, a version number.

If they were all created by the Roaches, then… wtf? So with Mars, they got it right on their very first try - congratulations, a fucking GOD is born - but their next Guardian took 12 attempts? What? And then Pluto took 183 attempts. And the time discrepancy is just…. weird. Wtf does this mean? The Roaches started off as the best scientists ever, getting everything correct on their first go, then suddenly dropping the ball off the face of the Earth and getting nothing right? For centuries? And after all of that, they consider the Sapling to be their greatest creation. Not any of the Actual Deities they supposedly made. And then they place two of these gods in… just… entirely different territories. Mars is in the Eastern lands. Lord knows where Pluto is, but not Bugaria, that's for sure. I do find this rather unpalatable.

If they weren't created by the Roaches - they were just studying them, trying to replicate their power - I think that fits some of this better. Especially that above quote by Venus. If she was around before the Roaches developed what they have now - the Roaches being the first bugs to awaken - then did she awaken before even them? If she - and, perhaps, Mars - were the first to awaken, then was the Day of Awakening only around 370 years ago? That would probably be the best case scenario for developing a timeline. It'd be the only True Date that can be nailed down, and make it a lot easier to place other dates around it by comparison.

But still… what's the deal with the version numbers? Perhaps the Guardians do not have true immortality, but ressurrective immortality? That would sort imply that Pluto might in fact be the first, and he's on his 183'd life. It would also mean that Mars would actually be the youngest of the gods. Despite being the oldest current version, he is still only on his First version - no deaths, no resurrections. This would also mean that Pluto died around the time the Roaches vanished. But also - if Pluto died 182 times prior to his current iteration… what the fuck kind of life is this guy living? Is he stuck in a death loop, wtf?

This is honestly just another discrepancy, to me. Lets be as conservative as possible and say that most of Pluto's lives were all around 30 years in length. This is so conservative as to be ridiculous, but let's just ignore that. 183 x 30 = 5490. That's Fucking Old - and I'm gonna say, just as ridiculous. Why, then, would the other two gods only have a few years of an age gap? This feels like a strong point towards the idea that the Roaches created them??? that the designations are version numbers before deployment and not ressurrective iterations???

Oh My God. What the fuck am I supposed to believe?

BREAK

This is where I officially gave up. I hate all of these ideas none of them are satisfactory. Bug Fables why do you hate me so muchae dsafsafgfghrdsgrdfeignbreoiatghnbfrabgifrhdfhdfghdfsghdfizghsregtbdfsgfcuigh

#bug fables #dear god help me figure this out #i havent slept for weeks #i missed so many calls #what year is it?#is silksong out yet?#long post #unfinished essay

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yidhraloves · 1 year

Text

Gabriel (Mandela Catalouge) x Reader

“My little Snowflake Part 2”

If you haven’t read part one yet:

Hope you enjoy! I might make a 3rd part

When you awoke, the first thing you saw were rays of sun that shone trough his wings that were carefully positioned around you. How long have you slept? Weeks? Months? It must be spring by now!

Not sleep, food and warmth deprived anymore you slowly got your senses back and stared at the being beside you, and it stared back. Despite its human appearance, this was an alternate, for sure! But it did take care of you while you were asleep, so you weren’t sure if you should be afraid or not. After what felt like hours of staring Gabriel, or whatever it called itself, Gabriel pressed his cold lips against your forehead which sent multiple shivers trough your body. You continued to stare at his face with a growing smile on it, your cheeks reddening. His soft smile and beautiful eyes made you question if he was a human after all, but then you remembered the way its face morphed into something gruesome back when it looked at you trough your window. Its deep, creaking voice broke the silence “ Do not fear, my beautiful lamb, for I am your true saviour, Gabriel” it took a pause to tilt its head, seemingly investigating you. “Your weak lifeform must not worry while I am here, I will protect thy body” wtf was this dude saying???

“You are a weak mortal, my sweet lamb”

“Utterly useless is what you and your species are, destroying gods Gift and polluting it. I, Archangel Gabriel am here to change that. But you don’t seem so much of a sinner, my dove. In fact, you could prove to be quite useful to me.” Those words kept repeating in your head after he got up and left trough the window he came from. But what bugged you the most, was the fact that he seemingly knew everything about you. Your favourite food, tv show, everything, as if he had been watching you for your entire life. You found this out from the “interview” he had with you before he left, seemingly asking you questions but answering them himself. Itself. At this point, you don’t even know anymore. You got up and looked out the window. A beautiful shade of red coloured the sky.

Suddenly a pair of cold arms wrapped around you. Turning around, you screamed, thinking that your Doppelgänger had come to get you. But you were met by Gabriel’s ever so calm face. “What’s the matter, my sweet lamb? Do I scare you that much? I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean to.”

“You humans have such weak minds, shying away from your guardian Angel”

There was an akward silence, since you didn’t respond, but it broke it by handing you a neatly wrapped box of your favourite food. “I hope you like it! I made it just for you” it said, while flashing one of his sweet bitter smiles. You opened the box and were in shock. It was beautifully prepared and smelled wonderful. You looked up at his Form, muttered a quick “Thanks” and started devouring the dish in front of you.

“Ah~” he sighed “ I haven’t heard your sweet voice in such a long time. I’ll always make you food from now on, if it means I get to hear it, just tell me what you want, and you’ll get it”

You just continued eating and decided to adress the being with him from now on.

Gabriel wasn’t happy with your response in the slightest, seemingly feeling ignored , he contributed to ramble “Anything, anything your weak little mind desires, I’ll get it for you. Hell, I’d do anything for you, my dove. I’ll protect your weak being with all my might , and if anyone ever touches you I’ll rip them to shreds. I’ll worship you like you wish to be worshipped. I’ll do ANYTHING for you, for I am your saviour, the one and only Archangel Gabriel” Taken aback from his words you just stared at him in shock. He also seemed to be a bit startled by his little outbreak, got up and tucked you into bed. That didn’t help though, the tension between you growing. But before you could say anything he muttered a “goodnight, I have duties I must fulfill” while disappearing into thin air.

Despite his confusing words, you were sure of one thing: you’d be seeing him again. And you were a bit happier about that than you’d like to admit.

#mandela catalouge gabriel #mandela catalogue #mandela county #gabriel x reader #sus gabriel #gabriel #alternate gabriel #x reader #yandere #??? kinda #Spotify

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cosmic-bat · 7 months

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I originally didn’t want to make a post about the London meet and greet because I don't want to come across like I'm bragging or anything but if anyone (@spooky-cowfish especially) really does want to read about it then here you go...

So we go into the main gig hall and the boys are all standing at the barrier, well Chris is straddling it and has trouble getting over which was quite funny. They count us a few times as everyone filters in which made it felt like a school trip😂.

After the initial hello they say they're gonna do individual photos and talking/questions so they all split off in different directions. Pi walks straight towards me and my new queue friend and we were not prepared 😂 we awkwardly say hi and take photos, he asked if I wanted anything signed and I had a small rainbow flag but I'd forgotten a pen so he said he'd come back to sign it. Can I just say his eyes are so piercing!!! Like woah!!!! He has great energy too.

Next I went to Gared and the awkwardness had gone so I managed to chat and joke with him more. He's super nice and quick witted, very funny. I managed to borrow a pen from someone and made a stupid joke about him being left handed and he went "No I'm just trying it out" 🤣😭 I'm sorry Gared. I told him to just sign anywhere but he said "No, I have to do it properly" he's so sweet!!

Then I went to Klaas and omfg, first thing I did was ask for a hug so we hugged and I squeezed his waist (it had to be done). He is so lovely, we chatted about fancy venues and he bragged about how he saw ghost years ago in a nice small venue, his favourite Ghost song is Mummy Dust btw! I can't lie, I was just staring at his long hair and cute glasses for a bit without realising🤣.

Then I got to Nik and he was the most prepared cuz he actually brought a pen lmao. Anyway he's super chill and easy to talk to, he asks you where you're from and how far you've travelled to get there. After he signed my flag I say danke cuz it just comes out naturally now and he looks me dead in the eye and says "You're welcome" LOL.

Before leaving him Pi was walking past so I called out and asked for him to use Nik's pen to sign my flag and ofc he was like "Oooo what pen am I using?😏" Nik handed him the sharpie and was like "This one, not the other one down boy. That's later" and I was standing there like 👁👄👁 wtf is happening right now.

And then Chris was left. He's just so lovely and sweet too omg! When he took my phone to take a selfie (I think we had all decided the boys to take the pics cuz they're good at it lol) he somehow changed the camera to video and omg it's my favourite thing, he says "It's filming!" when we realise it's a video and I've had it going around and around in my head for days🤣. I get a selfie with him and then he takes a pic of our shoes cuz apparently his new photo thing is shoes. My mouth works faster than my brain so I say "Wikifeet?" as a joke and he's like "No it's not a kink thing."

Anyway I ask him to sign the flag and am about to shout for anyone with a pen I can borrow again but Chris is like "I'll go steal Nik's." and he just runs off to get it🤣. I go to help him hold the flag tight so it's easier to sign like I did with the others but he's there holding it against his thigh figuring out which side is the right one😂.

Then it's the group photo in the final minutes, so everyone is walking towards the barrier, I am stupidly walking backwards and fucking walk into Nik omfg PSA: look where you're walking otherwise you may bump into a drummer! Klaas appears next to me out of nowhere then he kneels down on the floor (you can see this in the London group photo lmao), so I'm like 'oh god I'm gonna have to get down there too otherwise it'll look weird' so I awkwardly get on the floor and copy his pose cuz no way am I gonna be down there on both my knees😂 A few photos were taken with count downs done in multiple languages. Then Klaas stands back up so effortlessly and I'm there struggling cuz my platform boots are heavy. Once I'm up Klaas says "You made it!" like ha ha yeahhhh.... I should start working out😂

Finally we say bye then us lot get taken into a corridor that's on the other side of the venue instead of being let back out into the queue outside. So I'm there chatting away to my new friend and I pull out google maps to show her where abouts I live cuz we want to meet up again. But all of a sudden I feel a hand on my shoulder and a sweet "Excuse me" and I turn to find Pi behind us trying to get past LMFAO OOPS.

Honestly it was the best night of my life.

Although, I have to say one more thing. It was interesting to watch the standard queue being let in and everyone rushed to the middle and Pi's side, I was like 'well, more Klaas for me then hehe'.

#lord of the lost #lotl m&g

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lucidd-the-weirdo · 10 months

Note

Oh yeah I've been meaning to ask you- what made you stop liking BombOj? I think that you mentioned how S2 ruined their relationship, in what way? :0 /genq

Oh boy, erm lemme see It was mainly season 1, but season 2 kinda just made me hate OJ more, like it got bad- I'll try my best to not go on a tangent!! /j

Okay so first off, I used to like OJ, like, really like him Everyone portrayed him as a super nice caregiver!! And I loved Bomb and Paper!! Mainly someone on tiktok made me like the idea of the ship more

But, after rewatching it a few times, and with DJay I fucking hated this man- I thought he would be better than this!! "OJ wtf??" I often thought to myself Like lemme tell you my most hated line of his "Between you and Bomb it feels like I'm in a mental hospital" He was talking to Paper when he had Evil Paper

And the first time I saw that with a friend I was just PISSED- No other way to put it! And my friend said "It's a joke lol" THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT FUNNY

And the whole fucking "betraying" thing with him and Bomb OHHHH MY FUCKING GOD- THAT WAS SO ONE SIDED- Bomb never won a game once without help! So he wanted to win this one! But OJ was like "Well I think I deserve it, I'm smarter" The rage going through my body was insane!! He just called him stupid!! At least that's how I took it!

At least Bomb sent everyone on a trip when he won (besides Balloon cause this is season 1) and yes I mean everyone! Even OJ when he was the one who said that to him! Obviously Bomb didn't hate him. But noooo OJ still had to be a bitch about it- And not to mention other situations with Paper like him just leaving him in the cactus, I mean yeah taking things litteraly is something I do to, but leaving your friend in a cactus?? DUDE

I could go on and on about this, but lets get to season 2 OJ now has his hotel and like, I can point out everything wrong he does- Okay I'm kidding, BUT I COULD First off, making all the contestants sing when they didn't want to, intterupting Fan's part by saying "No question, I'm a nicer host, I don't mean to boast" but you just boasted in that sentence?? Also his smug ass FACEE he MEANT to boast-

Also at the end of the thing he even said that wasn't the challange, he jsut wanted some help cleaning, which I get but OH MY GOD, AT LEAST SAY THAT FIRST?? But this is taking a bit long to write so just to shorten it

TL;DR - I used to like OJ from how the fandom portrayed him, but rewatching season 1 - 2 made me hate him. Which is why I don't ship him with Bomb (or Paper) anymore

#ac text #oj ii #i was even planning to stop tagging him #i know oj fans wouldn't wanna see how i see him-#this isnt even going that deep into my hatred- i got a few more #but i promised no tangent plus i wanted to stay on topic #i even have a google doc which is called “why i hate oj from inanimate insanity”#but procrastination hits harddd!!!#anyways there you have it. oj is why i don't ship him with bomb #answered

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whimsymanaged · 6 months

Text

Weekend WIP Game

Thank you, @myheartalivewrites, for the tag!

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

1. WIP List:

Oh my GOD. This was a mistake.

Okay, so like. Is this only including WIPs I'm actively working on? Because if so, then I have one. Very proud of that fact. I'm super focused and have the willpower to write stuff.

If you mean, like, WIPs that I started posting on AO3 and then never touched again, then... I have 8.

They are:

Five-Drink Henry (RWRB, Alex/Henry, neighbors AU) - this is the one I'm actively working on. I am so fucking determined to finish it.

Change of Plan(t)s (HP, Draco/Hermione/Neville, sex pollen trope) - it's actually marked as 2/2 chapters, which is hilarious. There is definitely supposed to be at least one more chapter.

An Auction (HP, Draco/Hermione, omegaverse) - I miss writing this one, although I am fully on my RWRB bullshit right now with no signs of turning back, lol.

Not What This Is (HP, Draco/Hermione, bloody on your doorstep trope) - I left this one on a very angsty cliffhanger. Sorry.

Where There's Smoke (HP, Draco/Hermione, firefighter AU) - everyone died. The end.

Just Like Quidditch (HP, Draco/Hermione, based on the movie Friends with Benefits) - this was fun to write but I haven't updated it in like 18 months.

Beach Retreat (HP, Draco/Hermione, only one bed trope) - I literally got until they actually slept together and then bounced.

The War Rehabilitation Centre (HP, Draco/Hermione, post-war angst and trauma) - my first fic on AO3!

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

Five-Drink Henry at 8,348 words. I am obviously incredible at writing very long things. Actually, now that I'm looking at all my AO3 WIPs, I'm realizing nearly all of them have petered out between 6k to 8k words. Gulp.

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Five-Drink Henry, lol. Since it's the only one I'm writing.

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

OMG ALL MY ANSWERS FOR THIS DAMN THING ARE GOING TO BE THE SAME FIC.

Anyway, the answer is Five-Drink Henry.

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Where There's Smoke. I knew nothing about firefighting. All I had was a computer and a dream, so I read articles, interviewed people I knew (not firefighters, but people in firefighter-adjacent work), scoured Quora answers, took notes from "Day in the Life" videos, watched Station 19, etc.

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

The War Rehab Centre. It was an idea that moved me so much that I HAD to post it? I made, like, my SISTERS and my best friends IRL read my first chapters for me because I was so nervous about getting exactly right. And then basically no one read it and now I'm too afraid to reread it so anyway yeah that one

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

I had betas for the first two chapters of Just Like Quidditch, and I had a beta for Not What This Is. For the latter, it was because I was experimenting with a non-linear style and was worried I was not pulling it off, lol. I think it turned out pretty well though although we never will know wtf happened to Draco.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

Yes, 7 of them.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Five-Drink Henry has some random new people to round out Alex and Henry's friend group. I have a soft spot for Felicity, who Henry at first found intimidatingly attractive but is actually, like, his biggest fan and isn't afraid to give Alex shit.

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

Besides War Rehab Centre, they're actually all rated E, lol.

An Auction is sexy because of the whole alpha/omega biologically induced desperation? Where There's Smoke has this laundry room scene that I've heard is pretty enjoyable.

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Not What This Is. Basically, Hermione hires Draco to sleep with her but then they catch feelings and it's all a mess but also he suddenly appears at her door quite obviously dying? There is no chapter 2.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

UGH DON'T ASK ME THIS. I pride myself on good characterization but also it feels weird to say I characterized anyone well, lol. Probably Five-Drink Henry. IDK.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

None of them. I hate describing places.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

Where There's Smoke. It was the only one I did research for.

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

Five-Drink Henry, because it's going to be my FIRST COMPLETED MULTICHAP. YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST.

(I know What to Wear is complete but it's like 5 words long so it doesn't count.)

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

No.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

Yes. the complexity of being unfinished.

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

I made myself laugh a lot writing Just Like Quidditch.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

No, but now I want to write a David POV into Five-Drink Henry. Really get into his mind.

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

The next chapter of Five-Drink Henry is chapter 4, so Henry will be drinking 4 drinks. Did you know that? I don't think you did.

Tagging: @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @beautyberrywrites @holygnocchi @sodamnradd @eveningstruggle @eggbagelsjr @caitybellfics @ellieauthor

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yaminerua · 6 months

Text

I actually started this one before Smegtober but decided to finish it up ahead of today because it kind of fit today's prompt.

From tomorrow I'll be taking a break from writing since I've done so much lately and wanna give the writing side of my brain a rest but I'll try to sketch up some little things to fill the rest of the prompts.

Anyways as always the prompts are from @a-literal-toaster-wtf

Today's prompt was Homesick.

Rimmer realises that he wants to go home and does everything he can to try to make it there.

Words: 6041

****

Rimmer wanted to go home.

It was a simple realisation, one that had been a long time coming, but it was an inevitable and devastating one all the same.

Sitting by himself in the cramped cockpit of the Wildfire, gazing up at yet another unfamiliar sky, in yet another unfamiliar world, an immeasurable distance separating him from the place he never should have left, Arnold Rimmer finally succumbed to a homesickness that had been churning in his gut far longer than he’d ever readily admit.

It took him a while, as most things did, and he’d spent a great deal of that time trying to outrun it as fast as he could but in the end, several years into his tenure as Ace Rimmer: Space Adventurer, Explorer of Worlds, he finally had to acknowledge the constant, gnawing little feeling that had been nestled within him, jabbing like an uncomfortable thorn into his side from the very moment he’d left.

It was the very same feeling that had made him hesitate before performing that first dimension jump, and the feeling that had had him wishing fervently that he could undo it the moment he’d initiated it but by then it had already been too late. The past was behind him, as was his home and the people he knew, and all that stretched out in front of him was an unknowable future at the end of which was, presumably, a permanent death and little to no chance of seeing those he’d left behind ever again.

He’d thrown himself into his fate as best he could and tried to fill the shoes of all the Aces that had come before him. No-one would be able to say, if they were to write his chapter in the story of the legend of Ace Rimmer, that Arnold J. Rimmer, BSC, SSC, hadn’t given it a jolly good go. He had. It just wasn’t for him. It never had been and even after all this time it still wasn’t. It surely never would be.

As he sat alone, after refusing yet another invitation to the warm bed of a willing stranger, he finally let the admission wash over him, cold and sobering - let the regret seep through until it permeated every pore and settled, bone deep, within him. It was an empty, hollow feeling, weighed down by the hopelessness of it all.

He didn’t want to do this anymore – hadn’t really wanted to do it in the first place. Sure, he’d been moved by the sight of all those other Rimmers who had gone and done the same and it had given him a momentary burst of confidence that maybe he had it in him to do this after all but he’d been quick to lose that once he’d actually committed to it. The novelty had long since worn off leaving a cold, unfulfilling emptiness behind. What was the point keeping going with any of this, pretending to be something he wasn’t and dying some foolhardy hero’s death, far away from anyone who really knew him?

He wondered how many of those other Rimmers had felt the same.

God, he wanted to go home. He’d rather waste his time trying endlessly to do that, to turn tail and run back to the safe mundanity of an old bunkroom he missed more than he would ever be caught admitting out loud, than to continue to press on doing this nonsense any longer. Even if it was impossible he wanted to try until his lightbee fizzled out or until he made it – whatever happened first.

So that’s precisely what he did.

He did everything he could think of to make it back, everything even remotely possible to try to increase his chances even the slightest, to do what no previous Ace had ever managed or even attempted. Even when it seemed futile, even with every new universe he jumped into making it feel like he was getting further away rather than closer, he kept going.

And after many failed attempts, eventually, he believed he’d finally done it.

Red Dwarf sat, a great red beacon of hope, against the darkness of space in front of him and he held his breath at the sight of it, felt the way his lightbee simulated the rapid pounding of his heart, a strange mix of excitement and dread roiling in his gut. What if it wasn’t the right one? Oh, but what if it was? Had they missed him? Well, almost certainly not but he couldn’t help but hope to be wrong anyway.

The cargo bay doors opened to grant the Wildfire access and he all but threw himself out of the cockpit as soon as he’d landed, rushing through the familiar corridors of the small rouge one to where he knew the others were likely to be, anticipation surging like electricity through every atom of his body as though he’d been struck by lightning.

Laughter sounded up ahead from the old living quarters and Rimmer held his breath, cast out a silent prayer into the universe begging it to at least give him this, and rounded the final corner.

The universe, as it happened, was a goit.

What he was met with was a sight that wasn’t altogether unfamiliar but wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for either.

It was Lister alright. Not his Lister but a Lister he’d met before all the same and as he gaped, stupefied, at her, the baffled look on her face seemed to perfectly mirror his own, as did the faces of the twin boys sitting either side of her.

Oh, this was almost too cruel. It was unbelievable. He cursed the universe and whatever malevolent deity was carving out this joke of a life for him for doing this to him, getting him so tantalisingly close to home but not quite close enough. A dimension too short perhaps. Just out of reach.

Or was it?

Recovering his shattered wits, he straightened up and frowned. The thought occurred to him that this might still be a workable situation after all and he clung to that idea like a lifeline. Hope wasn’t lost just yet, but he wasn’t daring to get quite too prematurely excited about the prospect lest the universe take this from him too.

His reasoning was that if this was indeed the same universe that he and the others had visited before by way of the Holly Hop Drive all those years ago, then there was a possibility that the means to skip across that final dimensional hurdle existed somewhere here, unused but potentially still functional. Of course he had no way of knowing, but if this truly was a closely connected parallel universe then surely there might exist such a thing as the Hilly Hop Drive?

“A what?” Deb Lister said blankly when he fumbled his way around asking her about it. “Hilly Hop Drive?”

Rimmer felt the little balloon of hope in his chest begin to deflate. Maybe it really had been wishful thinking after all. He nodded.

Brows furrowed, Deb gave the question a bit more thought, tapping one of her locs thoughtfully against her lips, wracking her brains for any recollection of such a thing existing. If it did, she hadn’t thought about it in years, not since—

“Oh,” she said suddenly, a deeply buried memory popping unexpectedly back to the forefront of her mind. “Yeah, that old thing! I remember it now.”

“You do?!” Rimmer all but choked on his own startled response.

“Yeah, Hilly must’ve made it round the same time your Holly made yours,” Deb said, waving a hand in a kind of dismissing shrug. “We never bothered to actually try it out though since you lot beat us to it with yours.”

Ah. That made sense. The Holly Hope Drive had initially been invented with the expectation that it would get them back to Earth in a flash, but after discovering that it did no such thing it hadn’t really been worth using much. It was only capable of hopping back and forth between their two connected universes. Rimmer could understand how trying out their own version would have been a pointless endeavour. Even without trying it, they already knew what it would likely do.

He swallowed thickly, cursing how hard he was having to fight the desperation from clawing its way into his voice. “Do you-” he started, throat so tense his voice cracked slightly. “I mean, is it still here? Do you still have it?”

If Rimmer had an actual physical heart to leap up into his throat with the anticipation he was feeling it surely would have done so. Instead, he could feel his lightbee whirring excitedly within him as Deb gave a nonchalant nod in response. There was still a chance after all!

Of course there was no guarantee it would work after all this time, especially since unlike the Holly Hop Drive, the Hilly Hop Drive had never had a test run but what mattered right now to Rimmer was that it existed and that was what he was hanging onto.

It was all fine and well knowing it was still somewhere on board but it was another thing altogether trying to actually track the smegging thing down. So many years had passed since those early days on the nearly-empty Red Dwarf. Things had been moved around, misplaced, piled up and buried and while some items were easier to remember the location of (such as a certain overly talkative toaster) it was proving much more difficult to remember where exactly that old, disused lump of junk had been tossed.

Rimmer tried not to be too exasperated and snappy while overseeing the search – really, he did – but he just couldn’t help it. He was impatient, itching to dig it out and get it working already. This was the one and only thing that might get him home and put an end to this long drawn out, lonely chapter of his life and these gimboids had simply misplaced it!

At least there were plenty of hands to assist in the search. The Dog had shown up along with this universe’s version of Kryten – a new addition since his last visit here – and together with Deb and the boys they split up to cover more area.

It was strange seeing Jim and Bexley again after so long. It felt like Rimmer had barely known them a minute before they’d been sent away, what with how unnaturally quickly they’d aged in his home dimension. They had been teens then, when he and Lister had made that final trip with the Holly Hop Drive to deliver them to Deb and Arlene and entrust their future to them. Lister had been heartbroken afterwards, Rimmer remembered. Absolutely inconsolable for weeks. He himself on the other hand, it shamed him to recall, hadn’t been particularly sympathetic towards him.

Seeing them older, all grown up, was a peculiar experience, not least because they looked so much like Lister had all those years ago that it struck an odd chord within him, the sight of their round cheeks and mischievous smiles so very, very familiar. Somehow, he found himself feeling more homesick than ever.

The search seemed to go on for hours, each passing moment just as fruitless as the last, and it wasn’t helped much by how often someone got distracted by something else they happened upon in the process but throughout all of the time spent looking, Rimmer was acutely aware of the fact that something else seemed to be missing too. Arlene Rimmer, this universe’s version of himself, was nowhere to be seen.

It was a stark and apparent absence but not, he regretted to admit, an unwelcome one. Partly, he was relieved. He never did get on with other versions of himself and his last encounters with this particular counterpart had had him desperate to get as far away from her as possible so her absence here was a positive of sorts. He did wonder, however, where she had gone.

Had she followed the same path he had? Had some other Ace Rimmer shown up here and recruited her to travel to other dimensions and play the hero? It was a hard thing to imagine, but he’d felt that about himself too so it wasn’t impossible. In fact, given the closely connected nature of their two universes it actually seemed quite likely.

If that was the case, if there could be multiple Rimmers off traversing the multiverse as Ace at the same time, multiple parallel chains of succession occurring simultaneously, then at the very least he could rest a little easier about being the one to ‘break the chain’ as Lister had once put it all those years ago. What did it matter if one Rimmer decided to go home? Clearly there were still other Aces out there and they would continue to find more. That cycle could happily go on without him. Thank God for that.

He considered bringing it up, asking Deb if Arlene really had followed the same path as himself. The urge to find out for sure was hard to resist, as was the burning curiosity to ask if she missed her at all. It sat temptingly at the tip of his tongue, equal parts desperate to find out and terrified of the answer, so he bit it back and said nothing at all, preferring for now not to know. Whatever Deb’s answer would be would likely mirror that of his own Lister back home and he didn’t want to know that quite yet. He’d save that disappointment for if – when – he actually got there, and continue in the meantime to try to pretend to himself that the reality wouldn’t crush him when the time came. He’d spent long enough on his own by now to have wrestled somewhat with the reality that maybe, just maybe, he might have sort of grown to miss Lister. Possibly. Just a bit. Certainly not more than he would have ever expected to, and definitely not to the degree that if he found out Lister hadn’t given a smeg about him it would have any significant effect on him. Not in the slightest…

He frowned, suddenly in an inexplicably bad mood, and swept his gaze across to the others, making sure once again that no-one was getting too distracted from searching through the current pile of junk they were all fishing through.

He noticed that Deb seemed to be pointedly avoiding looking at him directly and had positioned herself on the opposite side of the room from him. She seemed about as eager to get this over with as he himself was, to get him away and out of her sight as soon as possible. Whether that was irritation towards him in general, or irritation because he wasn’t the right Rimmer he couldn’t say. Maybe Arlene’s absence bothered her a little bit after all. He at least hoped that was the case.

In the end, thankfully, the agonising search paid off. After hours of digging through God only knows how much clutter they finally found it, buried under years of accumulated knick-knacks and garbage and the sight of it alone was enough to momentarily stall Rimmer’s entire being, to quiet the anxious whirring of his lightbee down to an almost imperceptible hum. He didn’t trust himself to hold it, lest his trembling hands drop it, so Bexley carried it up to the Drive Room while Jim assisted in setting it up.

Without a Holly or a Hilly to operate it anymore, it was up to them to get it working themselves but fortunately it didn’t prove too difficult to do. It never had been a complicated contraption, but even still Rimmer could barely fight the tremor in his body as he hovered his hand nervously over the button that may or may not take him home. If this didn’t work, perhaps there really was nothing that would.

Rimmer held his breath, uttered a silent prayer to any benevolent entity that might exist out there, whether he believed in it or not, and as he slammed his hand down he clenched his eyes tight shut and waited for the inevitable disappointment.

But it didn’t come.

When he opened his eyes, he expected to see that nothing had changed, that the vast expanse of space in front of this Red Dwarf was as empty and black as it always was but that was not the case. Instead, there through the viewing window, stark red in all her glory, sat another Red Dwarf. The very sight of it made his lightbee feel like it was about to explode, made it feel like it was going to leap up out of his chest. This had to be it. This time it surely couldn’t be anything else. This time he really was looking at home.

Jim and Bexley crowded round the window, cheering and punching the air and only distantly did Rimmer register that this was also a significant moment for them as well. If all had gone as it should have, they would be meeting their father – or was he their mother? Rimmer still hadn’t quite straightened that one out in his head – again for the first time since they’d been delivered here for their own good years ago.

The following moments passed by in a dizzying blur as Deb and co readied themselves to make their way over. He found himself being guided along by someone, too dazed and stunned by the weight of this achievement to really be able to take it all in.

He was bundled onto a Starbug along with the rest of the crew (which was surely for the best, since he wasn’t in any state to be piloting the Wildfire right now) and as he watched the looming red vessel grow closer and closer he’d never felt his chest feel so full before. God, this really was almost over.

He’d known he’d wanted to go home, known he’d feel relieved if he ever managed it, but he hadn’t quite been prepared for just how overwhelming it would feel to actually achieve it. Even in spite of how much he had never been able to stand the infuriating bog bot’s company in the past, when the familiar sound of Kryten’s voice crackled out of the speakers to greet them over comms and grant them access, Rimmer genuinely didn’t think he’d ever felt happier to hear him. The familiarity, accompanied by that same little buzz of irritation that he now felt almost fondly, washed over him like a gentle wave, enveloping him in a sense of homecoming he’d craved for so very, very long. It would be a short-lived sensation, one that would no doubt be instantly killed the moment he was reminded just why he usually couldn’t stand the lot of them, but for now he let it settle over him, let himself live in this victory just a little while longer.

As the cargo bay doors opened and Starbug carried him across the threshold of home for the first time in God only knew how long, Rimmer wondered whether his lightbee would short out from the tension that was swiftly building, tying itself into knots in his gut in anticipation of the first sight of everyone’s faces again. He got to his feet shakily, only distantly aware of one of the twins pulling him up by the arm, and as he made his way to step out onto the cool metal of the hangar his legs felt weak beneath him, knees threatening to buckle embarrassingly at any moment. It was as though all the energy he had thrown into trying to get him to this point had been completely spent and all that was left was a deeply exhausted husk who wanted nothing more than to collapse into his old bunk and slot right back into the life he never should have left in the first place.

A loud echoing bang sounded from the other end of the room as the great metal doors to the hangar unlocked and Rimmer’s heart leapt into his throat as the excited babble of several familiar voices suddenly filled the air, echoing off the walls along with the clattering sounds of their footfalls. Though the words were unintelligible, he could make out the unmistakeable vocal howls of The Cat even from down here.

He had no greeting prepared, he realised belatedly as he stood dumbly waiting for the others to reach them. All that time spent searching for a way to get home and he’d never actually anticipated that he might make it, that he might need to figure out just what the smeg he was going to say when he saw everyone again. ‘Surprise!’ wasn’t going to cut it. God this was going to be excruciating. Maybe it had been a bad idea…

He scrunched his eyes shut and swallowed hard, listening as the approaching footsteps grew closer and closer until he could avoid facing the moment no longer. Here it comes.

He opened his eyes and looked up and almost instantly the frazzled static of tension and anxiety thrumming wildly throughout his whole body stilled and he could only stare, stunned, into equally stunned hazel eyes as he made immediate, startling eye contact with himself – or rather, with one Arlene Rimmer, or someone that he could only assume was her. Presently she was dressed not unlike himself, in a shiny flight suit and wig, looking equally as flabbergasted to see him. Of all the things he’d been expecting from this reunion, this had not factored in at all. It left him speechless, stupefied into silence, mouth hanging limply open, gaping like a fish while his mirror image did likewise. So much for coming up with something to say.

It wasn’t until a familiar voice sounded out over the stunned silence that he finally snapped his gaze away in search of its owner. And there he was at last: Dave Lister. Every bit as curry-stained and unkempt as he remembered him, but the look on his face was something so startlingly unfamiliar that Rimmer couldn’t immediately put a name to it. There was a hesitance in his eyes, a wariness, like he was uncertain quite what he was looking at, but behind that there was something else and if Rimmer didn’t know any better he would maybe label that expression as ‘hopeful’.

“Ace?” he heard Lister ask again, this time actually registering that that’s what he was saying, and Rimmer swallowed his nerves and readied himself to face the inevitable, the moment he’d been dreading.

He straightened himself up, tried to school his expression into something controlled and steady, but his eyes remained fixed searchingly on Lister’s face, ready to analyse every subtle twitch in his features. “I’m afraid not, Listy,” he said, and it came out tight, like a croak, despite all his best efforts to sound calm and unaffected. “It’s just me.”

He fought the urge to scrunch his eyes up and avert his gaze, to not have to see whatever look of disappointment was sure to wash across Lister’s face, so when instead he watched in amazement as something wholly unexpected bloomed across his features he found himself transfixed, utterly bewildered by the sight of it. It was not something he was familiar with seeing directed at him at all, and certainly not from Lister of all people. Instead of crumpling with disdain, Lister’s face opened up, blossoming into a warm, wide smile, his eyes positively sparkling and when he next spoke it was the warmest he’d ever heard his own name spoken.

“Rimmer! Is that you, man?”

Rimmer nodded stiffly, so entirely caught off guard by this response that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Almost as an afterthought, he fumbled clumsily with his flight suit, hands trembling as he gripped the lightbee remote and clicked it hurriedly, itching desperately to shed this skin that has never truly felt as though it fit him right.

The silver outfit flickered slightly one final time and then a ripple of blue washed it away to something much more comfortable – much more him.

He pulled the wig off his head and let it drop to the floor by his feet, pointedly choosing to break his gaze away from Lister, the sunshine glow of his grinning face too bright to continue looking directly at, too new and unexpected for him to be able to fully process quite yet, but the buzzing warmth it stirred in his chest was undeniable all the same. He was home, and more importantly, it seemed as though he was welcomed.

Fishing for something else to direct his gaze towards, he instead looked up at Arlene, who seemed to be experiencing a similar crisis of her own. She, too, had shed the Ace Rimmer appearance and was dressed in a similar fitted blue jacket to his own, an all too familiar thin blue H emblazoned once again on her forehead, as it likely was on his own too.

So that was it then. Their lives had mirrored each other’s completely and this was where they converged again, each one landing conveniently in the other’s universes so that they could briefly cross paths making that final dimensional jump home. Fitting, in a strange way.

Tentatively, Rimmer took a step forwards, pausing momentarily upon noticing that Arlene had moved to do precisely the same. Together they stood in an awkward silence facing each other for a moment, unsure of what exactly the best course of action should be. A handshake? A salute? A polite-if-slightly-distanced ‘hello’? Just what were you supposed to say when you were meeting an alternate version of yourself who’d likely thought and felt all the same conflicting things you’d felt to lead you both here to this moment? He knew her as well as he knew himself. She was him. And yet still, even after all this time, he found he had nothing worthwhile to say to her, as did she to him.

In the end, they opted for a simple stiff nod of acknowledgement and a clearing of the throat and then they stepped past each other and into the fold of their respective crews.

Immediately a sudden rush of conversation broke out amongst both groups, bursting the strange bubble of tension that had encased them up to that point. Cat and Kryten offered him their awkward little greetings, as falsely bright as Rimmer had suspected they would be coming from them and he was relieved to find how easy it was to be irritated by their presence again. He settled back into his old self comfortably like slipping into a pair of well-worn shoes, the familiar old quips and retorts falling easily from his tongue as though he hadn’t been gone for years – as though he’d been doing the same only yesterday.

A sudden firm, warm hand settled suddenly on his shoulder and startled him slightly with the unexpectedness of it and he whipped round to find Lister looking at him and although he looked a little exasperated, that peculiar warmth hadn’t yet left his eyes and it made Rimmer’s lightbee click and buzz oddly to look at it up close.

“I see dimensional travel hasn’t changed you a bit,” Lister said with a hint of amusement pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Still the same old smeghead.”

Rimmer sniffed and turned up his nose reproachfully. “You didn’t think I’d ever actually turn into that ridiculous goit, did you?”

Lister snorted and shook his head. “Nah, it’d never take. Not even being Ace could cure you. It’s a terminal disease.”

“Good thing I’m already dead then,” Rimmer replied wryly, relishing the ease with which he could fall back into this old pattern. “And anyway if you ask me, he was the one that needed the curing…”

The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly and then it gave him a firm couple of pats. Lister let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “It’s good to have you back, smeghead,” he said, his tone almost fond. “Though, you look a little different. I thought holograms didn’t age?”

Rimmer blinked, stupidly. “What?”

“You look older. Like you’ve aged,” Lister explained, indicating with his eyes towards the top of Rimmer’s head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Your hair’s thinning.”

“My what!?” Rimmer cried, hands flying up to investigate.

His face contorted in confusion as he traced his fingers along his hairline, feeling the different shape, the newly receded line of it an unfamiliar thing to feel.

He turned wildly to the Cat and held out a hand. “You! You’ve always got a mirror! Let me see!”

The Cat grimaced, glancing beseechingly from Kryten to Lister as though expecting to receive back up from them and when he didn’t he then rolled his eyes and reluctantly retrieved his hand mirror from a pocket on his suit. “Don’t go messing it up, okay, Goalpost Head? That’s my favourite mirror.”

“Every mirror’s your favourite mirror you vain imbecile,” Rimmer retorted, snatching the mirror out of the Cat’s hands and holding it up.

When his visage appeared in its reflection, his eyes widened in disbelief at the unfamiliar face gazing back at him. It was still him, of course, but sure enough he looked older, the furrowed creases on his forehead deepened and more pronounced with well-worn use, his once unruly mess of brown curls now a slightly more muted colour, tinged with the beginning hints of grey.

“But…” he began, running a disbelieving finger along one of the deeper creases in his brow. “But how?”

Lister simply shrugged beside him. “You got older, man,” he offered simply. “It happens. You’ve been away a long time.”

“But that can’t be!” Rimmer cried, incredulous. “I’m a hologram! Holograms can’t age, can they?”

“If I may just interject here, sirs,” Kryten piped up, stalling Rimmer before he could devolve any further into a full-blown crisis. “Perhaps Holly simply made it so that you would.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, sir, a hologram is formed by loading all of a person’s data onto a disc and projecting it back out as a near-perfect hologramatic replica of the human it is a copy of,” Kryten continued, his voice adopting that same old self-satisfied tone that always got under Rimmer’s skin whenever he’d had to have something explained to him. “The information provided to construct the hologram includes personality data as well as physical information, medical history, DNA records, et cetera. Under normal circumstances there would be no need for a hologram to simulate aging but I believe it would be possible for the algorithm to predict how you might have aged had you lived to do so, based on the information in your records.”

“That’s all fine and well, Kryten,” Rimmer said, fighting not to sound nearly as irritated as he felt. “But for what purpose? All that does is remind me that I never got to live to see how I might have actually aged. For whose benefit do I have to look like this?”

“Well,” Lister’s voice cut in, and the hand at his shoulder squeezed slightly to remind Rimmer of his presence. “There’s me for a start.”

Anything else Rimmer might have said died in his throat and his mind stilled as he turned to regard Lister, the beginnings of a heavy, unpleasant ball of humiliation starting to form in his gut. Of course. How could he have forgotten?

Lister at the very least didn’t seem to hold it against him that he’d forgotten the entire reason he’d been brought back into existence in the first place. He simply cocked his head to the side and gave him an easy smile. “Wouldn’t be all that helpful if I kept getting older and you stayed a fresh-faced thirty-something would it?”

“No… No, I suppose that’s true.”

Rimmer grew quiet then, mulling over all this information in his head as he lowered the mirror and handed it back to the Cat, who made a big show about wiping it clean. He wondered when the change had happened. He had been absolutely certain that he hadn’t aged a day in the entire time he’d been gone. Just this morning he had looked exactly the same as he had years ago so whenever this change had occurred, it had been instantaneous and he hadn’t felt a thing.

He frowned, considering the lightbee remote in his pocket, and glanced back over his shoulder at the other group, at Arlene, who now he came to think of it hadn’t quite looked exactly as he’d remembered her either. Perhaps that had been it, then. The moment he’d shed the appearance of Ace, the moment his hologram had re-connected with the mothership at the click of a button, his appearance had altered to account for the years that had passed, corrected to fall back in time with Lister again. It made sense, and at the same time as being extremely disorientating to find that he had aged years within seconds, there was also something oddly comforting about the confirmation that this truly was home, that he was back where he belonged, and that the ship itself had welcomed him back.

Lister’s hand, which had remained braced on his shoulder this whole time, gave him one final firm squeeze and let go and Rimmer would never admit it, but for a brief moment as Lister pulled his hand away, taking that weight and warmth with it, he felt almost bereft, almost willing it to stay right where it was if just for only a little moment longer. God, just how badly had he missed being here?

He watched, a little winded, as Lister turned his attention to the other group, waving them over to join them and rushing against his better judgement to try to lift Jim and then Bexley up off the ground in a crushing hug. He rolled his eyes and shook his head as Lister inevitably howled with pain as his back protested against the added weight. Same old Lister, rushing into things without thinking things through.

It was almost enough to pull the corners of his lips up in a small, fond smile. He was glad that things generally didn’t seem to have changed much, not really. Outwardly, in little ways, they had and Rimmer could see now the way Lister’s smile carved deeper lines across his face, a more pronounced crinkling at the corners of his eyes, a deeper groove sweeping down either side of his nose to meet the edges of his smile. He looked older now, softer and warmer, and something about it made Rimmer distantly mourn the years he’d missed out on, the deprivation of getting to witness it happen gradually. Being away so long had clearly done something to his brain.

A warm hand found its way to the small of his back, gently encouraging him forwards and Rimmer spun his head round to stare, startled, into Lister’s radiant, beaming expression and once again felt that the sight of it was too much.

“C’mon, let’s go get some drinks to celebrate,” Lister said, pushing him gently into falling into step alongside him and Rimmer let himself be led.

It was a little strange knowing now that Lister seemed to have missed him, seemed genuinely to be happy to have him back. He wondered what on Io things must have been like without him to bring about such a response but he wasn’t about to question it, wasn’t about to let his own self-doubt creep up to ruin things quite yet. There would be plenty of time for him to put his foot in it later. For now he was content to revel in the homecoming, in the closing of a long drawn-out adventurous chapter he’d hated every minute of partaking in, and take solace in the confirmation that he was finally back where he belonged. For once an Arnold Rimmer had succeeded. He’d made it home.

#smegtober2023 #in which rimmer tries to get back to his home universe and gets.. nearly there.. but needs a little help to cross the last hurdle #featuring the parallel universe gang bc this idea has been in my head forever and I just wanted to get it out in some form;;

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