#so how many easter eggs can you spot in this chapter?

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction

[moollypop]

indigo park theory: what ARE the mascots?

i've had many thoughts on this since chapter 1 came out, so this will be a long one.

TW for animal cruelty and abuse below.

first off. they are NOT animatronics. uniquegeese has explicitly said that himself on streams, and this is added on by the fact that mollie literally gets decapitated and dies, blood spurting out of her disembodied head. lloyd and mollie also just, generally look a lot more like living, breathing creatures than just some mascot suits or robots with their fur, feathers. as well as being able to blink and emote.

so that begs the question: how do these exist, if they aren't just robots and are in fact flesh and blood? well... judging by some of the context clues we've gotten so far, i think i can make a guess:

Indigo Park created the mascots through animal experimentation and genetic remodelling.

first off, the mascots themselves. at least, in the state they appear in. they are far more reminiscent of wild, feral animals than killer animatronics or toys or what-not from most other mascot horror games. lloyd in particular stands out in this.

when we first find him, he's all curled up asleep on the theatre stage. again, another point to these being living breathing things if they require sleep. only to then run off on all fours as soon as he wakes up and notices ed, then proceeds to stalk them within the backstage. keeping to the shadows and retreating when he's spotted or isn't in position to properly attack, again, like a real lion stalking its prey until it's within striking distance.

lloyd DOES walk on two feet properly, though. primarily when he trots away after first being sighted in the backstage, and later after ed grabs the key, lloyd does physically walk around even though it isn't visible to the player and he despawns after they leave the room with the key until it's time to do the jumpscare.

(credit to horrorscoped's "what indigo park hides in rambley's railroad and theater areas" video for the screenshots)

second, and what i think is most important to answering this question: mollie macaw. it's established in her death screen that she can mimic things that she's heard, including voices, which macaws in real life can also do. and while it's hard to hear them during her chase sequence, she has SEVERAL voice lines that play. most of them are taken from the rambley's railroad ride from earlier in the chapter, but there are several others that seem to be taken from employees or guests before the park's closure. i'll link a video to them here, but the lines i'm referring to in particular are:

"Stay in your seat!"

"I wanna play with the birdie!"

"Don't touch that thing, son..."

"Get up, you stupid freak."

"Get back in your cage, bird."

"The customer is always right."

the two i'm focused on mainly are fourth and fifth ones, which are undoubtedly park employees. calling her a freak, telling her to back into HER cage... paints a very, very unpleasant picture of what's going on. one that is confirmed even more by an easter egg in rambley rush, where if you fall into the fourth pit while moving to the left, you can find a second mollie inside a cage.

verbally abused and caged up... like a mistreated animal.

so... why? why create these "mascots" instead of having employees dress up in costumes like other parks? they clearly intended to at one point, as they had at least produced a costume for rambley before the mascots entered the picture... simple, really. money.

if you were a business and wanted to maximize profits with little morals, why not try and turn animals into your company's characters for your theme park so you can avoid paying your employees a little extra for going around in costume? if companies are willing to replace writers and artists with AI, why not put in a little more effort to create something else to do that job for you instead of having to pay someone else to do it?

but, something happened. maybe one of the mascots finally had enough and attacked an employee or guest? who knows... whatever the case, the park was suddenly and quickly evacuated with the events being covered up.

and the mascots were left to rot. with no humans to supervise them and keep the instructions and training and company-mandated rules drilled into them, combined with the isolation and likely mental toll it took... they regressed. they slowly lost what made them "mascots" in all but appearance, and now? they're animals again. wild, feral animals. ones that don't see a random person as a guest to greet, but as a smaller, weaker animal. a prey.

and with so many years having passed, likely not having much in the way of food outside of any other wild animals that might happen to wander into the park... they're likely very hungry.

#indigo park #indigo park spoilers

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Palomino says goodbye on August 26

Tomorrow will be one year since we started this weeklong (😂) pack trip with cowboy Jack and Darlin', so it's only apt that today, I officially finished the last chapter, which I will edit over the next week.

To mark the end of the series, I commissioned a favourite scene of mine (also many of yours) from Dapple Grey (extract below the cut). I've taken some artistic licence with it because I wanted to include Scotch, who's such an important character in his own right. There are many Easter eggs in this illustration - how many can you spot? 👀

Thank you @manofbeskar for being an absolute dream to work with from start to finish. 10/10 recommend if you're looking to commission artwork! Thank you again!

See you guys next weekend for the finale ❤️

*Important note: Darlin', the F!Reader in Palomino, has no physical descriptions in the series. This particular illustration is a gift to myself, so naturally, the physical attributes are based on my own.

It starts with the faintest of glows. The ghost of your breath misting in front of your face. The distant, backlit profile of the Bighorn. The outline of bush and flora, then the textures fill in as the light swells. And without warning, the dawn breaks, colour spilling across the field of wildflowers, like a light has been switched on.  A light fog hangs in the air, gently refracting the morning rays into an iridescent sheen. In every direction, the ground is carpeted by a sea of summer blooms. It looks like a page ripped straight out of a book that starts with the age-old refrain of once upon a time.  You turn to Jack. He’s watching you closely with a smile, hair sleep-mussed, the sunrise casting him in rose gold.

#palomino series #a palomino farewell #palomino artwork #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels fanart #agent whiskey fanart #pedro pascal character fanart #jack daniels fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfiction

[sharkfinn]

So, you mentioned putting little symbols and messages in your comic. I did spend some time skimming through Little Brother to try and find those symbols you mentioned, and I do think I found some. But, they were so miniscule and subtle that I decided not to waste an ask bringing something to the surface that could possibly have no meaning whatsoever.

I will continue to try and find them, though. I'll even enhance the images just in case you hid them that well. But for now, this is what I got.

So, I decided to bring some things up that are more light-hearted that most of us have probably already noticed yet didn't think much of.

These are just references I've noticed. Or at least things I think are references.

1. The show/shows the turtles were watching after the "three weeks earlier" are some shows I can tell you like. I noticed Danny Phantom, but I don't recognize the one above it.

2. I already made an ask bringing up all the references in Spot's room because it was one of the more obvious ones. MLP, Lemon Demon, and Spiderverse.

3. When Huginn and Muginn explain how they got Spot's stuff for his room, I think the kids in the back are from some other show I don't remember...? I think theirs background characters that you've inserted in that are supposed to be subtle references but maybe that's just me fqfwy2uejejru. I think theirs also little gizmos in the background that are meant to be Easter eggs, but I again can't remember for the life of me, lmao.

4. These are just silly ones since they were edited in for your birthday version of Spot's traumatizing "almost" death. Autism creature, and Finn (ah) from Adventure Time.

5. In the most recent, most traumatizing chapter yet, I saw Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls. I love how he's infested like all of Cartoon Networks shows and now Little Brother, LOL. I think I also see something that's referencing... something? Hehe, I'm really making a fool of myself. You can really tell I have unique tastes in fandoms, huh?

That's pretty much it. If there were any other silly little Easter eggs I missed, then I'll gladly take the criticism. I don't exactly have the best eye for these types of things. Maybe tomorrow or another day, I'll talk about the little details in the comic because there's so many I've seen that made me smile. You put a surprising amount of detail into the background characters, too.

OH YEAH the last ones the portal gun (i really like a lot of valve's games)

#sharkfinnasks #little brother au #when its no longer spoilers ill make a post showing some secrets people might not have noticed #gonna be quite a while before that though. #i am very much expecting this comic to take a lot of time to make

[magicxc]

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Hallween they’ll never forget.

Word Count: 3506

Warnings: murdaaaa, tha big reveal

Chapter 6 - Jasons POV

A/N: this is legit like my 5th attempt at uploading this damn fic. From the warnings to the word count to the moodboard to the story all the way down to the fucking tagsssss 😩 I am TIRED. Almost turned my phone into jello over Dumblr. So please, enjoy; cause tears def went into this.

Series Masterlist

“What’s with the scrutiny all of a sudden?” Emery challenged. “You know I could say the same for you Jason, the same for all of us really; cause where was anyone when our friends were fighting for their lives?” she sniffled. “All we have to do is sit here til sunrise and we can’t even do that.”

As annoying as I find Emery, she made a decent point. Where was I? Where was anyone and how did this manage to happen unheard? Do I actually believe Lorenzo did it? Not really. He’s lost arguably the two closest people in his friend group, cradling Stephanie in his arms for God knows how long. For a second I almost believed he’d break through the window if it meant he could reach out and hold Julianna much the same; his behaviour eerily composed, reminding me of the calm before the storm - and what a shit storm it’s turned out to be.

Serving in the military, I was taught to survive in extreme atmospheric conditions; training to fight in places as scorching as the desert and as icy as the snow. Our exercises also saw us in unsturdy places such as the choppy currents of the water, arms linked together as we floated on the surface for hours. The sky was no exception either, learning to parachute from altitudes so high the air was all but limited. It wasn’t my dream to fight for this country but, life happens. And while it did come with its perks, I wouldn’t recommend any sane person to join. I’ve scraped so many bodies off the battlefield and sent so many others to meet their maker, I’ve become somewhat desensitized to death - learning to keep calm during the most chaotic and life threatening moments because it’s only then that I was able to live to tell the tale. And that’s what I’ve been attempting since we all found ourselves locked in this place - surviving, lending out my experience to the team who quite frankly doesn't deserve it at this point. All I can do is stay calm long enough to see this night through.

“I think we should waterboard the fucker.”

And here the fuck we go. I’ve never pegged Lynn for such a firecracker but I get it. After all, this night is drawing all sorts of emotions from people: showing our true colors when the universe dangles something so priceless before us.

It's been said that about 1800 people have jumped from the golden gate bridge, yet only 35 have survived the fall. And each person that’s survived has explicitly stated that they regretted jumping halfway through the fall, realising, in the face of imminent danger, just how solvable all their problems seemed. Much like tonight, in what happened to be a party gone horribly wrong, recovering bodies littered around the house like candies during an easter egg hunt, only then do you realise how desperately you want to live. Many people are familiar with the term fight or flight, but what goes most overlooked is a secret third thing - fear. Fear so intense it freezes you to one spot like a deer in headlights, too afraid to move from the oncoming beams of tragedy. But another emotion fear pulls from us is survival, an emotion so fierce that you’d find yourself doing just about anything to have it; even going as far as to commit interrogation tactics of torture.

“Exactly which fucker are you referring to?” Emery questioned.

“Whoever the fucker is responsible for this mess.”

“Go ahead and point them out for us since you know every damn thing.”

They’re on their own with this one. I can't deal with the bickering. I'm used to organized and thought provoking responses in such situations; my irritation rising the more it sinks in just how wet they are behind the ears.

“Lorenzo, you’re one more insult away from me socking you in the face.”

“Whatever Lynn, what you should hit is the books you dumbass,” he retorts.

Throwing her shoe at him, it just barely misses his face; Emery stepping in to call them both childish.

“So help me God if you don’t get your shit together, I’m gonna whoop you like your parents should have.”

“Fuck you Lenny, at least my parents were active enough in my life not to let me get raised by the help.”

“Parent,” Lorenzo enunciated. “Had your dad been able to afford the help, maybe your mom would’ve stuck around you motherless bitch.”

Well shit.

“Jason, do something!”

“Right, uhhh all shoes in the middle of the floor,” I instructed.

“Asshole.”

I don’t know why Emery insists on calling me out. Everyone, despite tonight’s circumstances, in this room is responsible for their own actions. Yet she expects me to jump in the middle of their bullshit every time. I don't know what kind of savior complex they have going on, but I won’t be a part of it. I barely want to be with sugar at this point.

“Lenny you motherfucker, two parents plus the help and yet no one taught you what it means to have common decency; no wonder women can’t wait to get rid of you.”

“Well if it isn’t the whore of Babylon here to teach us a lesson about keeping partners. Tell you what, you teach me how to keep a woman and I’ll teach you how to get rid of the clap.”

“Sex shaming is not cool,” Emery criticized.

“And neither is half the things that's been flapping past Lynn's lying ass lips,” Lorenzo retorted. “If you’re gonna be biased, do so from the corner of the room, cause you’re at about arms length right now and that’s not good for you.

“Would you seriously hit me?” she ridiculed.

I would.

“Are you surprised Em, this is the same piece of shit who yanked Julez arm so hard, it left bruises.”

“You dramatic whore, no the fuck I did not.”

“And that was in front of an entire crowd, who knows what you’re capable of behind closed doors huh? Drowning? Slicing?”

“Sounds like you’re in the mood to find out.”

“Tell me their last words to you as you watched them fight for their lives you piece of shit.”

“YOU GUYS PLEASE.”

Oh my God.

“Shut your mouth Lynn.”

“Tell me every horrifying detail about what fucked you up so bad that you’d turn on your own friends in such a way.”

“I won't ask you again.”

“Steph probably begged you to finish her off didn’t she? Eager to get the hell away from you and your perverted advances.”

For a big guy, Lorenzo’s pretty damn swift. Maybe it’s because all those drinks are still sloshing around in my bloodstream but my cat like senses wasn’t quick enough to catch him.

Angrily lunging toward Lynn his hands are tightly wrapped around her throat, arms trembling from the forceful hold. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, while spittled foam gathers at the corners of his mouth. Blinking away tears, thick veins line the surface of his neck, incoherent mumbling tumbling past his lips.

Sugar desperately beats at his arms, struggling for air he refuses to give her and my anger shoots through the roof, their foolishness pissing me off for the final time. It takes both me and Emery to tear Lorenzo away from sugar, his grip firm and unrelenting. For a second I feared that he actually intended to kill her. Once we finally manage to drag him away, it takes me putting my full weight on this man, using one of my hand to hand combat moves to lock him into place.

Pinned beneath me, I scream to Emery to grab anything strong enough to tie his arms together. She brings me back one of the kitchen towels and I roll us sideways so that she can wrap it around his hands.

“I - I can't do it, he won’t stop thrashing his arms.”

“For fucksake Emery TRY, there’s only so much I can do right now.

With lots of wiggling and flailing, Emery manages a decent enough knot for me to turn him over and reinforce it. Sugar finally catches her breath before storming into the kitchen.

We sit Lorenzo in a chair while Emery tries to coax him into comfort. Standing up, he head butts me in the face, my nose immediately leaking blood from the impact. My fist returns the favor, knocking him back into the chair. Emery harshly tugs on my elbow, begging me to stop, and it takes everything in me to do just that because this fight was about to turn real unfair, real quick.

Dragging my arm across my face, I look about the room for anything to tie down his legs to the chair, coming up with some loose cloth, which undoubtedly was a part of someone’s costume.

“Fuck all of you,” Lorenzo screams.

“No Lenny, fuck you,” sugar screeched, thumping back to the room; a pitcher full of water cradled between her hands.

“Woah, woah, woah LYNNLEY. Are you fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“This is Lenny, the same Lenny we’ve known since middle school.”

“People change Em and I'm about to show you just how much.”

“Sugar, maybe we should-“

“Shut up, all of you.”

“I know there’s been a lot said tonight, some things in particular we can never take back,” Lorenzo sighed. “And I know tensions are high right now, but are they so high that you’d all sit there and watch me die.”

“Lorenzo, no one’s gonna kill anyone man.”

“It’s WATERBOARDING, you of all people should know that it can very well get fatal.”

“Enough of this.”

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulls his head back, pouring enough water on him to drench his clothes, before being snatched away by Emery.

It's not nearly enough to kill him, but it does make for some discomfort, much like accidentally snorting a noseful of water once you dive inside a swimming pool. It burns but that's about it.

Coughing through his discomfort, I listen as sugar and Emery go back and forth over the severity of it all; and I briefly contemplate killing myself if it means that I won't have to deal with their nonsense. I honestly don't know if I can make it to sunrise like this and by the looks of it, neither will they.

Their bickering finally subsides, them agreeing only to question the man and nothing more. Of course Lorenzo detests it, that for no other reason than a hunch he’s guilty and lowkey he’s right. But then again, I'm not inserting myself into their madness. They’ve made it this far in this fucked up friend circle, they can make it the rest of the night.

“So lemme get this straight, you went upstairs to find cell signal and somehow found yourself next to a knife stricken Steph?”

“Lynn, ask your damn question.”

“How did you end up there and why?”

“My phone fell out of the window and I was looking for someone elses to use. It just so happened that Steph was the first person I found.”

“I think we should stop asking who may have done it, but why?” Emery proposed. “I feel like if we can figure out who had motive, we can narrow it down.”

“Well this is a pretty fucked up way to narrow things down. I'm literally tied to a chair.”

“That's because you choked me.”

“And I’ll do it again, you’ve been out of pocket since this whole thing started. How do we know you’re not the killer huh?

“Because I’m holding back from killing you now,” she shrieks.

Spitting, the thick glob lands directly on her chest, sugar all but emptying the contents of the pitcher onto his face; angrily clomping back into the kitchen to no doubt fill it again, but not before slapping him across the cheek.

Wet and stinging, that's quite the combination. I fear this has gone on long enough and it's only escalating. As much as I wanted to stay out of it, I think I better intervene.

Following sugar into the kitchen, I try to talk her out of this crazed state, her dazed pupils letting me know that she’s too far gone for reason. Pushing past me, she heads back into the living room where we see Emery struggling to untie the knots off Lorenzo, his violent coughing trying to dislodge the water that seeped into his lungs.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“The hell does it look like I'm doing Lynn, this is mad and it needs to stop now.”

“Not until I get some answers.”

“People who talk, talk after their first contact with water,” I bargained. “And he’s not talking.”

“All that means is we have to get him talking then.”

“OR, it means he didn’t do it. You pour a bucket of water over someone’s nose and they’ll tell you whatever you want to hear if it means you’ll stop.”

“And yet you did it anyway,” she glared.

“There was a time where I would’ve died for all of you. I found a family in you guys and it filled a void I didn’t even know I had. And in one night, one measly fucking night I lose it all,” Lorenzo whimpered. “My best friend gets murdered without us ever properly mending things between us. I had to watch the love of my life die in my arms. And now, my other friend is actively trying to kill me, disregarding our decade long friendship all in the name of anger.

“Lorenzo, you did this to yourself!”

“LYNN, how fucking cruel can you be?”

“It’s alright Em, I’ve been known to be a bit of an asshole, though I’d like to think I meant well,” he bitterly chuckled, snot trickling down his nose. “Do me a favor and survive this fucked up night, cause God only knows who Lynn will turn on next. Not to mention that fucker over there,” he says, head nodding toward me. “Ain't it a little odd how all of this starts happening the moment he shows up? Yet I'm the one you helped him strap down to a chair. They ask what would you do for a klondike bar, but you better start asking what would Lynn do for a piece of dick, cause apparently it’s kill for it.”

“Lorenzo, I'm actually on your side. The only reason you’re even tied to that chair is because you attacked two people in this room,” I defended.

“And what's the reason I'm being waterboarded huh? Who weaseled that thought in her mind? You say you fight for your country? Motherfucker you can't even fight for the people in this room, but you like what’s happening huh?

“Not at all man.”

“We get it, I'm a dumb hoe, but you’re about to be a dead one if you don’t fess up.”

“And then what? You’ll let me go free?”

“Jason, please help me untie him,” Emery pleaded.

“Em don’t you fucking dare.”

Lunging toward her, hands get tangled into hair and nails get scratched into skin before I can get between them. It takes more strength than I care to give to hold Emery back, both she and sugar throwing around insults.

“Lynn I swear, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Lorenzo taunted. “YOU ARE THE CUM SHOT YOUR MOTHER SHOULDVE SWALLOWED. It would’ve saved your dad a lifetime of headaches and your mother the embarassm-“

Lorenzo’s words get cut off by the splashing of water, his gurgling noises buried under the guzzling of the pitcher. Emery goes wild, hitting my chest repeatedly and I toss her to the ground, jetting over to the scene behind me. Slapping the pitcher from Lynn’s hands, it's on the verge of empty, nothing but a trickle left inside as it splatters to the floor.

Lorenzo’s body furiously thrashes around, his chest caved in and head hung over with water spluttering from his mouth in an attempt to rid it from his body.

“Shit, Lynnley what the fuck did you do,” I screamed.

Emery is struggling to undo the knots, but all she’s doing is pulling them tighter together. I race over and lean the chair forward, hoping for gravity to expel some of the water from his airway, his body jerking about minorly.

“Why are you just standing there, find something to cut him loose.”

Scrambling into the kitchen, I hear dishes clinking and slamming together before Lynn comes running out with a knife, slicing through the cloth as best she can. The kitchen towel, since it was the thickest, took the longest and by the time we got him out the chair and on the floor, his fits has ceased.

Getting into position, I lock my hands together and press down on his chest, 30 times just like we did in training.

“Emery, once I count to 30 I need you to tip his head back and blow two big breaths into his mouth okay.”

“And what do I do?”

“Stay the fuck over there, I doubt he’d want your help at this point,” Emery yelled.

We do five sets of 30 compressions. The CPR forces out some of the water but Lorenzo is still unconscious.

“Why isn’t it working?” Emery wails.

“Em-“

“Why are you stopping, keep going.”

“Stop.”

Pushing against my chest, Emery restarts CPR.

“The lungs are about 9 inches in height, that's a little under a foot.”

“Nobody cares, just fucking help me.”

“The pitcher that Lynn poured over his face looked to be about 64 ounces and she did it twice. That was enough water to fill his lungs three times over.”

“We can do it, I know we can,” she croaked.

“There's no amount of CPR that can expel that much water. And his lungs are so heavy they’re actively swelling as we speak.”

“We won’t know unless we try Jason, you get the mouth and I’ll get the chest.”

“Blowing air into his already expanding lungs won't help Emery.”

“Am I supposed to just watch him die then?” she chided. “Isn’t there a way to drain it?”

“I'm no doctor and neither do we have the tools or the sterile space to do that.”

“Fuck a sterile space!”

“Not only would you infect him but stabbing anything in his chest to ‘drain it’ will only make him bleed out. We would need a very specific and precise needle.”

“No, we can do it,” she answered, starting the compressions again.

The splattering of liquids on the floor lets me know that Lynn has just emptied the contents of her stomach, but I'm in no mood to comfort.

“The body works in 3’s. Three days without water, three weeks without food, and three minutes without air. It’s been about seven now.”

“Shut up.”

“Lorenzo’s lungs are so heavy they’ve probably detached from his windpipe. That, coupled with no oxygen to his brain…at least he was unconscious before it happened.

“Jason either you help me or you leave,” Emery threatened, fat teardrops rolling down her face in droves.

There’s five stages of grief and they’re at the first one. Back against the furniture, I hold my head in my hands, listening to sugars light whimpers and Emery's ragged breathing.

She tires herself out with compressions, fists flying to his chest, pleading for him to wake up. Hands clutched over her ears, sugar rocks back and forth, mumbling out apologies, expletives, and frustrations; guilt no doubt eating her alive.

Hands dropping to my pocket, I rummage around for anything I can chew on, ready to get out of here and never see these people again. Fingers slipping free with the peppermint goodness, I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth.

Some minutes pass by, how many I don't know and the night grows quiet. As tragic as it’s been for everyone, this minute's peace brings about a small sense of tranquility. There’s the occasional sniffle and I watch as the sky transitions from pitch black to a pale pink, the telltale sign of the sun about to rise.

“At least his parents will be home soon right?” sugar questions.

“Yep, right in time enough to see their only son sprawled out on the floor and his friends scattered across the property. So much for the new owners, their home just turned into a crime scene.”

“Do you have any more gum?” Emery asked, voice sore from crying.

Tossing it in her direction, she catches it, face upturned once she removes the wrapper.

“Eww, Jason what the fuck, who the hell buys brown gum? What kind of flavor even is this?”

“It's peppermint,” I answered, popping a bubble.

“Still weird, I haven’t seen this shit since-“

The words die on her tongue. She looks up to me, revelation fresh on her features, which slowly etches into panic, as a sinister grin makes its way onto mine.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Hills and Valleys #Original Story and Characters #Horror #the big fucking reveal #did you guess it right? #have you known all along? #tell me your thoughts

[beyonddarkness]

Hi. There's mixed information for and against the Witch King being a black Numenorian but who knows, Tolkien kept changing his mind. There's some strong evidence, however in the Silmarillian, chapter Akallabeth, "Sauron was ever guileful, and it is said that among those whom he ensnared with the 9 rings, 3 were great lords of Numenorean race." So I guess we will never know 100%. Some believe since the Witch King is least afraid of water that he is Numenorean. Interesting.

If nothing is random, and everything has a purpose, then we can also look at: 1. Theo's and Galadriel's encounter with each other. Does it move him in a positive direction? It must mean something. 2. These characters settle by future Gondor. Isildur is also in Middle Earth now. So we can look at it through that lens. 3. The Faithful will also settle in this location. On this show if every little thing means something, the door is open to many possibilities. Theo Witch King, possible. Or not.

Also, Sauron death glare at Elendil in episode 3, so blatantly obvious, even when I didn't know he was Sauron. Sauron death glare at Arondir, the jury's out on that one. I rewatched all scenes several times and did not specifically see it. I am trying to, believe me. I love your observations but for show only characters there are too many possibilities available using the Easter eggs we are given. It can go in several directions and Easter eggs don't clear the way for 1 specific result.😀

Yes, isn't it great? There are so many possibilities!

Even though the phrase "it is said" could be viewed as ambiguous, I think there is an extremely high chance that we will see three Númenóreans receive some rings. I am really interested in spotting foreshadowing, and the shot below looks like a subtle piece of foreshadowing in the direction of what you quoted from the Akallabêth:

"Yet Sauron was ever guileful, and it is said that among those whom he ensnared with the Nine rings, three were great lords of Númenórean race."

"Take it."

(Not saying Tamar and his buddies are those Númenóreans; they're just guys. But the below exchange between Valandil and Sauron is pretty scary. Just saying! Not definitively suggesting that Valandil is going to get a ring. I haven't thought that much about it. But you know. Talk about foreshadowing. haha)

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

You're right about the dynamic between Galadriel and Theo being loaded with significance. I don't know if the association itself guarantees a happy ending for Theo, although there certainly is a chance that her advice will get him out of pesky situations; he may go back and forth. Being around Galadriel, Isildur, the Faithful, and even Bronwyn and Arondir, is nothing to sniff at.

But I mentioned before how Theo says a bunch of things that show that his gaze isn't in the right direction. I think the most obvious example is in his conversation with Galadriel, when he says, "What light?" Meanwhile, Bronwyn told him before to "find the light," and he's apparently failing to do so.

He certainly ended on a high note in Season 1, but he is very vulnerable to Sauron's deceit in the future. I'm jumping headfirst into the shallow end by saying that he is going to be the Witch King, because I know how far-fetched it sounds. But 1) he's a main character, 2) he's vulnerable, 3) he's gazing downward into the vast and irresistible darkness of the water, and 4) I thought that Halbrand being Sauron was far-fetched, and look where that got me. Nothing is out of the realm of possibilities anymore (although there may be many said possibilities).

Food for thought: at Comic Con, before the show came out, Lindsey Weber said that Galadriel's armor was "a gift from someone else." That's a strong indication that Sauron (the Lord of Gifts) made her armor, but in addition to making her armor, he would have made that sword.

That might be one reason why Galadriel had to stop and think before giving it to Theo; at that point, she thought Halbrand had died on her account... making that sword a gift from a fallen friend.

In any case, we know that Sauron touching things (let alone crafting things) is not a good thing. The following quotations are just two indications:

"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled [...]" (Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin).

Galadriel: "The powers we forge today must be for the Elves alone, untouched by other hands" (1x08)

The fact that Sauron made that sword, which is now Theo's, seems pretty suspect to me. Theo already had a 'sword [hilt]' made by Sauron, and it had made him feel powerful. Once he no longer had possession of the hilt, he didn't just feel guilt, but loss. And now he has ANOTHER sword made by Sauron.

The kid can't catch a break!

Not to mention, Sauron steadily watched Theo walk by, right after Galadriel said to keep the sword.

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

Speaking of death glares, you're right about the death glare Sauron gave when he hugged Elendil (assuming that's the one you're referring to; if you mean another one, let me know)...

...then yes, it's blatantly obvious. His death glare at Arondir is a little less obvious, sure, but it's pretty conspicuous if you consider the context. I can't put my finger on it, but something about Arondir's explanation of how Sauron was found (and the way he says it) is odd.

Is it vague? Too specific? Does it sound like something that someone might say if they made a deal to leave certain information undisclosed?

I don't know.

But it's off.

Arondir: "Southlanders found him on the road like this yestereve." Sauron: [glares at Arondir before lifting his gaze up to Galadriel]

We won't know what happened for sure until Season 2, so you can decide what it means (or does not mean).

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

I admit, I'm a bit confused about the "Easter eggs" thing.

I've always considered Easter eggs to be fun elements hidden here and there, with no purpose or significance in the story, just nods to fans or the general audience. By that definition, I didn't think I was paying attention to that at all, since Patrick said:

"We’re not really coming from a place of wanting to add Easter eggs, although that’s there too. We’re coming from a place of wanting to create something that is as visually sumptuous and rich as those books are, literarily. If you like the show, hopefully, maybe you’ll watch it again and you’ll notice all kinds of new things, whether it’s something in the dialogue, or something in the set design, or something in the costuming, that is hopefully communicating a whole other layer of meaning. And if you’re a fan, there’s no end to the deep dive you could be doing. We wanted the show to be something that rewarded reviewing. We wanted the show to be rich and layered and overwhelming. The way you do that is to just keep adding ideas. And when you’re dealing with Middle-earth, there’s no end to how far you could go."

In my observations, if there is something from the book that ties into something in the show, I always frame my thought process with the presumption that it is not a mere nod to the fans, but carries real weight in the story. And sometimes, a character might be aware of something in the book (particularly The Silmarillion), as if it's written history, depending on when it takes place.

I don't know if that's the kind of Easter egg you're referring to, so I may be totally missing something here.

#rings of power #trop meta #rop meta #rop analysis #halbrand #sauron #theo #elendil #patrick mckay #the silmarillion #book quote #quotes #valandil #tamar #galadriel #gifs #1x03 #1x07 #mygifs #myedit #stills #easter eggs #answers from the palantir #anonymous asks #1x05 #witch king #rings of power theories

[claire-starsword]

The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 17

Hey everyone, remember this? I sure don't! I was swept away by the task of translating the novel and, while this haunted my every moment as something i didn't want to leave unfinished, i barely remember what was going on. I do remember being not excited at all for the boring battle ahead, but hey, chapter 6 is a difficulty spike, so let's get over this already.

First of all, let's make things even easier.

We're past easter and egg hunts, it's now time for fish hunts. Hanzou pops out as a reward of this silly puzzle, which is leagues better than his original hiding spot. Also we get to enjoy more chapters with him. That's right, he's a magic user! Totally valid for this run.

I also thought you needed to click on the fish to find him but you just have to stand on it. So he just jumped out while i was busy typing, which scared the hell out of me, don't do that again, man.

Anyway, his attack is massive, surpassing even Max, but his defense is uh, on par with Tao's. That's bad (she does have a couple Steel Rings to have that though). Because of that, I'm passing the Repel Ring from Gong to him so that he doesn't have to worry about counters at least. We can do even better though.

I completely forgot in the last updates, but Waral sells a unique item, the Wind Ring, which grants +5% evasion. I don't think I'll be needing too much money for a while, I'm holding back on a lot of promotions so mages and healers won't be using the late staves yet, also I remember there is at least one free Holy Staff next chapter. Also, evasion is very ninja-like, isn't? So I get two for Hanzou, one for Gong and one for Tao. I also set Hanzou with some Healing Seeds and a Shower Cure, as I have some of these just laying around, I guess? I really don't remember a lot lol

Anyway, it's time to leave Waral for what I consider the most boring battle in all of this game.

It's the ship. Again. It was easy last time too. Yay.

Truly this chapter is the filler arc of Shining Force. It even got a beach on it.

Anyway, the clear bonus is the Soulbuster, which has already shown up in the Deals section, but would be nice to get it for free instead. I probably already talked about it when it first popped up, but who says I remember that, and who says you can make me shut up. So, the Soulbuster is a sword made for human enemies. There are not many of those, I think the Dark Priests count, but! I believe it counts for Cain. You can see it's being given right before chapter 6. And while this run has been easy so far, I still fear Cain. I ALWAYS fear Cain. So yeah, I want this.

Thankfully this battle won't waste our time with enemies behind the ship. We can just advance. I believe more enemies will be spawning in the middle.

Domingo is my greatest tank by far in both HP and defense, so he can probably handle whatever.

Arthur apparently has good defense right now, which always takes me by surprise.

I assume there's no need to stress here, so I'm spamming heals with the healers to get exp, and I don't think Narsha's Attack boosts will be needed even everyone's pretty strong already, so I'm Boosting Anri's spells with her instead. She levels up for her troubles and get Attack level 3, which I don't think I ever used.

Turn 2. Only a Sea Bat came forth. I'm bored. Domingo continues to advance and taunt enemies while tossing a Freeze 1 at it. Arthur finishes the job.

My plan with Narsha was to boost Tao's spells next, but she doesn't need it, so I'm casting step on Anri instead to see if she can reach enemies, because this woman is behind on levels and it's sad. It's still not enough for her to reach anything yet!! dang it!!

Turn 3. Trying to bait a pegasus knight with Domingo while still trying to get rid of this Gargoyle before it reaches anyone squishier.

how is he real

Arthur is poisoned but I honestly don't think that matters. He levels up and gets +3 attack.

Oh I'm remembering now how absurd this woman currently is.

Khris is so nice that she actually reaches to heal 3 HP of Arthur instead of spamming for exp only. With this she nabs an important level up! She has Heal 3 now, which was my main reason for delaying her promotion. I'm still on the fence if I'll delay until level 20 for Aura, depends on the equipment we'll get next chapter, and if I'll even get opportunities to safely use these priests for attacking.

Turn 4. Finally the pegasus knights are coming, and more enemies have spawned. Unlike what I thought they spawn further to the right. The empty middle of this map really was just to waste our time. Fiiiiiiiller.

Domingo has a chance to do AoE, and I love that. I am a bit worried about Anri exposed, but I'm hoping she can survive at least one hit, and that they'll also be obsessed by Max as usual. I don't wanna miss the bonus so I need someone to go ahead.

Arthur finishes the bat. Tao sadly cannot reach anything. Khris can, but I'm worried so I'll continue spamming heal for now.

Hanzou debuts with style! And then I cramp his style by failing to screenshot that caption properly, it was a double attack.

Max obliterates a bat with unnecessary violence (critical i failed to screenshot), and also does his most important job: baiting everything and anything away from Anri.

Unfortunately these enemies are so easy that she gets only 16 exp from a kill, I'm fighting a losing battle trying to get anything useful out of this.

BWAH???

okay i completely forgot that Max's defense hasn't keep up with the enemies in this run, I'm way too used with this man being a tank. At least he does have lots of HP to spare. And the other enemies aren't nearly as strong as the knights (knights have 30 attack, conches have 22 and the bats even less).

Thankfully Lowe moves right away to help his roommate. Also Arthur kills a conch on counter, which is awesome.

On Turn 5 he one hit kills another Conch and I regret scrolling fast because he gets another massive level up which i would've liked to screenshot. Lots of 4 and 5, you had to see it. Really wild how good he is if you put in the effort.

Tao obliterates the greatest threat we faced here.

I decide Max can just tank for a while and maybe, just maybe, Anri can get something more out of this.

Since the battle is ending I waste a whole Aura of Narsha just to heal Arthur's poison damage. She gets 20 exp out of that, which is wonderful, I love mass healing.

Hanzou continues to be wonderful. I was right about the rings.

She gets a level! :D

Turn 6. I start worrying about the bonus and decide Arthur should just kill the final enemy. Arthur proceeds to miss. Then Domingo gets a Freeze on the thing and I decide to risk things a bit and wait for Anri to get the kill. Not like she can miss, I'm just paranoid about doing things tight like this.

But never mind that! Everything goes perfectly fine, and she gets… 9 exp.

Please let this filler end already.

[insert screenshot of the clear bonus here, i hit the image limit but we did get it]

Losses: 0 Deaths: 2

#shining force #ressurection of the dark dragon #guardiana magic school run #long post #i've already played part 18 btw. hopefully it won't take as long to post #i also promise it is far more exciting than this

[meritatem]

For Easter Sunday, Damian decided to prepare something of his own, because the idea of painting eggs was so childish and sappy he just had to try it.

Damian couldn't say he was well versed at gift-giving because he rarely offered gifts and when he did, they were usually unconventional things, like finishing the family painting after he came back to life, hunting one of Grayson's first rogues from his days as Robin or giving back to his father one of the pearls his grandmother lost the day of her dead. Gifting small, simple things was something he wasn't very familiar with, but he could always learn.

With that purpose in mind, he acquired hollow wooden eggs and painted them accordingly for their recipient: a robin surrounded with green, yellow and red flowers, the masks of Melpomene and Thalia with grey monochromatic motifs and finally, an attempt of using white, green and black to create a neoplasticism pattern. As for their contents, he spent the day before using chocolate molds for the first time, something that was even more easier than baking, which raised again the question of why his cooking was so average still. Another mystery for his Green Casebook it seemed.

Damian started Easter Sunday with his usual routine, at least the beginning of it, because after his first workout and a quick shower, instead of going to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, he went to Dick's room. Grayson, like the fool that he was, didn't even bother to properly close his door before going to bed, so there he was, soundly sleeping and defenseless. He was so lucky Damian wasn't there with ill intentions, but if Grayson was going to be this careless, Damian needed to review their security systems again and see if there was something else to improve.

Despite Grayson's current state, Damian gave him the benefit of the doubt, moving as silently as if he were in the middle of a mission, stopping next to the bed to observe him, trying to look for tells to make sure Dick was actually asleep, which, after a moment, Damian concluded he was, so he proceeded to carefully place the wooden egg he brought with him - the robin one - over the nightstand. If Damian wanted, he could easily make a proper egg hunt that would test Grayson's detective skills... but this was his attempt to keep things simple, so after one last look at Grayson's sleeping figure, he left the room as quietly as he entered. Once he was in the kitchen, he found Pennyworth busy with that day's breakfast and after they exchanged greetings, Alfred paused momentarily what he was doing to point towards a wicker basket that was over the kitchen island.

“Master Dick was very enthusiastic when he realized I was making an Easter Hunt for you,” he began explaining before turning his gaze back to his work. “Not only he offered to hide the eggs but he personally selected many of their contents. I'm sure you're going to find both things to be an entertaining experience.”

“Is that so?” And he wrinkled his nose when those words made him think about Selina. “Very well, thank you for your efforts, Pennyworth, I'll convey the same to Grayson later.”

“It was my pleasure, sir.” Alfred bowed lightly his head in acknowledgment. “If you desire, you can start before breakfast, just remember that there's ten eggs and Master Richard said everything outside the penthouse was, and I quote, 'fair game'.”

“Of course he said that.” And feeling eager to be done with this whole ritual as soon as possible, Damian took the basket in a more dignified way than he really felt.

Once outside, he stood in front of the door that led to the garden, looking at the exterior with the calculating eyes of a tactician, trying to theorize the most likely spots Dick chose, which is why he turned momentarily to look up, glaring, hoping that Grayson remembered that no matter how high the penthouse was in the sky, it was still in public, so he'd better not have put an egg on the roof. The easiest one to find was on the same bench Damian and Dick had a conversation some days ago. Naturally, he refused to entertain the idea that such placement had a deeper meaning and instead, he devoted his entire attention to locate the eggs with the same attitude of someone of doing a tedious job. To Grayson's credit, he had the common sense of not picking unreasonable places for an ordinary child to search for.

As time went on, Damian became invested in locating the eggs, so it started to feel less like a chore and more like a novelty. It wasn't like he never used his training for things outside of vigilantism, but usually they were things that couldn't be considered for pure personal enjoyment. While he couldn't say he was having the time of his life, it wasn't bad either, if anything, it had been a while since he put into practice his tracking skills in nature, at least as much as one could call “nature” the manmade landscape in the penthouse.

By the time Damian found all the eggs, it no longer felt like all of this had been a pointless exercise in missed childhood experiences. He went back to the kitchen, giving a passing look to the breakfast that was served in the kitchen island, presumably waiting for him, so he left the basket near the food and decided to use Alfred's absence to go to his room. Once there, he retrieved the egg painted with the masks and made his way back to the kitchen, going directly to the cabinet where Alfred kept all the tea, opening it and leaving the egg next to the Earl Grey's can.

Not too long after Damian started eating, Alfred appeared again with a tray in hands, full of empty mugs. “I see you have finished,” he said after giving a fleeting look at the basket on his way to the sink. “I hope you had a pleasant time.”

“It wasn't bad. You and Grayson did an adequate job.”

“Such high praise, I fear it may go to my head.”

“You hardly need compliments, Pennyworth, you know you're competent, highly skilled and in the habit of surpassing expectations. I don't need to pander to your ego.”

From his position Damian missed the small smile that flashed for a moment in Alfred's mouth. “While it's always illuminating hearing your opinions, I must change the topic and inform you that I won't be limiting your access to the sweets you received, because I trust you can be responsible. However, I have to remind you should think about the health of your teeth.”

“I don't have to worry about cavities, is more likely I'm going to lose my teeth from fighting.”

“That's not very reassuring, sir.”

“I'm just stating facts, besides, if you were worried about the high contents of sugar, you should've give me less eggs.”

“It wasn't an option, the number has significance after all.”

“The thought did cross my mind. Why ten?”

“That's a mystery for you to solve.”

“How I'm supposed to know the obscure motivations behind your arbitrary number without a hint?” But even as he stated that, he took some moments of consideration. “Did you put an egg for each year I missed this celebration?”

Given that Alfred was still facing away from him, Damian missed again the expression in his face, something Alfred was grateful for, because he didn't want Damian to see the sudden sadness that appeared on his features, even if it was only momentarily, because years of tragedies at Bruce's side made him an expert at keeping his composure.

“That's a good start, my boy, I'm sure you'll figure it out in no time.”

“Is this some kind of test?”

“Not a test, consider it an opportunity to practice your work on hypotheticals.”

“I need leads, otherwise I'll just be making wild guesses.”

“That's half the fun, or so I've heard.”

“We have different opinions on what's considered fun.”

“Not all of us find Machiavellian undertakings appealing.”

“I'm my father's son.”

Alfred stopped what he was doing, closing his eyes for a moment, tilting his head slightly to one side, like he was trying to hear something in the distance. “You are, Master Damian, never a doubt about it.”

Turns out, Pennyworth was worried about the candies for good reason: besides the few eggs that were just pure solid chocolate, the myriad of confectionery inside the eggs screamed “Grayson's” everywhere; all of Grayson's favorites were there and the ones Damian didn't recognize, he assumed were Dick's attempt to figure out what he might like. He didn't know if Grayson and Pennyworth had so much faith in his self-restrain or if they were just being careless now, but either way it was too much candy, even if Damian decided to stuff his face to his heart's content.

Not for the first time he thought about Jon. How nice it would have been, to being able to drop at the Kent's farm and share all of these sweets with Superboy. And what a futile daydream that was, because the Jonathan living there wasn't Superboy nor was Damian's friend, but as much as he wished for impossible things, he accepted time ago it was better this way, because Jon deserved to have someone worthier of being called his best friend.

Damian put aside his wistfulness when he decided to focus on the little post-it notes he found inside of the eggs. Some were just scribbles of happy faces, others had short encouraging phrases while the rest were congratulatory words, all related to the egg hunt, but more important than that, he recognized Grayson's handwriting in them. So typical of Dick, doing unnecessary things like this, but Damian couldn't help but felt comforted by it; it was bittersweet, exasperating and touching, all in one: it was Richard Grayson being his bright, remarkable self, defined by hope, not grief. As much as things have changed in Damian's world, some things - the ones he would die for - had stayed the same. In a way, it feels like a reminder, that's why he decided to place the notes in the same drawer where he kept the sticker Colin gave him weeks ago.

In the end, Damian spent half of an hour sorting and appropriately storing his new stash of candy, taking the effort to mentally outline the best way to consume them in a way that should feel rewarding. The rest of the day held little excitement, something Damian had already gotten used to, because the ones living on the edge were Batman and Robin, while Damian's current life in contrast could be considered a stroll in the park... if the park was in the Seventh Circle of Hell, that is. Regardless of that, the fact still stands: Grayson is a busy person any day of the week, today included, even when Damian left enough clues for him to apprehend the Mad Hatter early, before he could do any harm with his cliché plans, like he did on Damian's first Easter in Gotham. It's not surprising then, that he only sees Dick again when he goes down to the bunker to get ready for the night.

The picture of Grayson and Drake in full gear hunched over the Batcomputer doing one thing or another is a common sight by now, it still makes Damian nostalgic, but he's gotten better at ignoring it. Originally his intention upon seeing Grayson was to thank him for helping Pennyworth with the Easter Hunt, but he didn't want to make an interruption for such a trivial reason, so he tried to go unnoticed on his way to the lockers. He's probably been giving the new Dynamic Duo little credit, because just like Drake did nights ago, both of them did notice his presence in an instant.

Whatever they were doing, Dick seemed to think it wasn't that important at the moment, because he stepped away from the computer, going to him. “Hi, Damian,” he greeted, like he always does when he sees him. It makes Damian think about how people greet their pets just for the sake of it, all sugary and pointless. “Thanks for the egg, it's really pretty! You're very talented.” And slowly, giving time to Damian to react, Dick put his hand over his head and then unceremoniously ruffled his hair. “And the chocolate it's the best I've ever had! How much do I have to pay you to make more?”

Damian had little use for compliments because he knew how competent he is, however, after spending so much effort into figuring out how to make superb mint chocolate, he can appreciate the positive feedback.

“I can do more as retribution for providing Pennyworth with your help.” He says as indifferent as possible.

“You don't owe me for that, I was happy to help! I'm just sorry I wasn't there in the morning, I was pretty beat out but Alfie told me you found everything. Did you read the notes?”

“Yes, they were very childish, you achieved the tone of the occasion perfectly.”

At that, Dick laughed, resisting the urge to ruffle Damian's hair again because he didn't want to push his luck. “I can't believe he let you keep everything, that's crazy! On my last birthday he rationed my cake portions and didn't let me eat more than two a day.”

“He's a wise man, clearly he knows which one of us needs to be supervised.” 

This is such a nice interaction, so much like Damian's old memories, which maybe is the reason why Drake - unconsciously - chooses to intervene and ruin it.

“Why are you pretending you care about this?” He asks, sounding bored. “It's not like you're a normal kid.”

As much as Damian hates to be treated like a child when his current age is used against him, to the point where Drake's statement is one he too usually goes for, he can't help but felt insulted by the way in which Tim spoke those words.

“Tim.” Dick said in a tone that can't be interpreted as nothing else but a reprimand.

“What? You know it's true,” and he crossed his arms, almost defensively. “I'm pretty sure he did more killing in the League than egg hunting. Who are you fooling, Damian? Yourself?”

Drake is right.

Drake is right and it makes Damian flush, not with embarrassment, but with anger. And he has to contain himself, because by now, Damian knows well what this kind of rage is hiding underneath. Even if his first reaction is to scream and storm out, he does his best to stay calm; he has heard worse, he has felt worse.

“There's a world outside the League that has been denied to me my entire life,” he said loathingly, nose high in the air with disdain. “And I'm going to take it back. All of it.”

With that, Damian abides a curt goodbye before turning around, battling with himself to not run on his way to the lockers. Behind him, he heard the way Dick started to chastise Drake for his uncalled for comments, something Grayson has never done before, at least not to Damian's knowledge. Any other day, that would make him feel vindicated, but not today.

Once he reached the lockers, he resisted the urge to angrily throw on the bench the bag he's been carrying with him, because its contents are important. And it's ironic, because one of those things is the egg he prepared for Drake, which he brought with him with the intention of leaving it on Tim's locker before leaving for patrol. To think he worked hard trying to figure out the best way to mix coffee and chocolate to make something decent out of it, and for what? Because he's not giving him anything now.

Damian know he's being childish. Technically he's older than Drake, he shouldn't take to heart the petty ramblings of a teenager that has good reason to dislike him, but from Drake's perspective, he was older than Damian, he was the one who was supposed to know better. Why can't Drake give him some grace? He forgave Todd long before he did Damian and Todd had tried to kill him more than once, and even then, it never felt like Drake truly let go of the resentment he had towards Damian.

It doesn't feel fair. And he knows that thinking of concepts like fairness is another childish thing on his part, but this whole day had been about Damian chasing the shadow of the kid he never was and remembering the ghost of the one that sadly, he got to be. At least he could take comfort in the thought that most likely, both versions of him would've had agreed that Drake should get nothing.

Later, by the time he made it to the Grave, the whole incident with Tim was almost forgotten in favor of more agreeable things, namely, arranging the basket he prepared for Colin. Damian decided against proper hollow eggs because they wouldn't be as easy to hide as a bunch of small chocolates and cookies, so to make it up for it, he bothered to make said cookies in the shape of an egg and he decorated them accordingly with the icing. Overall, he was quite proud of what he accomplished for this day, unpleasant occurrences aside, he was sure he managed well the basics of moderate gift giving. 

Not too long after, when Colin arrived, he found Damian in front of the computer, seated with both legs crossed over the chair, but as soon as Colin set a foot in the room, he turned the chair to face him, looking serious as always.

“You're late.”      

“I know, I'm sorry, they let us get to bed late today and I had to wait to sneak out.”

“I gather that means you had an eventful day, then.”

Colin laughed, always finding amusement on Damian's way of talking. “It was great, better than last year! We got a lot of lot of chocolate too!”

Colin walked until he was in front of Damian, bringing his right hand to one of the pockets of his trench coat and he rummaged until he found what he was looking for. He held his hand in front of him and he opened his fingers one by one, revealing a chocolate egg - wrapped in colorful foil - on the palm of his hand.

“Mr. Wayne donated these, they're delicious! I saved you one.”

Damian observed the egg, that looked so tiny in Colin's big hand; it was exactly the kind he had requested to be delivered through his grandmother's Foundation. Just like with Jon, he didn't feel like he deserved to be Colin's friend, to have this wonderful selfless child caring enough about Damian to share what little he had with him. But circumstances had put him again on his path and Damian was going to do everything to honor that blessing.

He took the egg in the same ceremonious manner in which he accepted the first weapon his mother gave him. “Thank you.” Damian said while getting up from the chair. “I have something for you too.” He went to the worktable where he left the basket, that was hidden behind the tech of a half-done project. He took it with both hands and went to present it to Colin. “They're snickerdoodles, you said you liked them best from the ones I've made but if you have another preference, you should let me know to take it into account next time.”

He was expecting for Colin to react with his usual childlike enthusiasm, but instead he took the basket from Damian's hands delicately, like he suddenly didn't trust his own force.

After a moment, he finally spoke, voice too soft. “Thank you... I...”

Colin stopped talking, leaving what he was planning to say incomplete and instead, he gave Damian an indecipherable look, something close to wonder and then, to his utter confusion, Colin seemed to snap of his trance, hurrying to put the basket on the worktable again, retracing his steps and going back in front of Damian.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just close your eyes for a sec, please.”

Damian wasn't entirely convinced by whatever thing Colin was trying to achieve, but he trusted him enough to do what he asked. He closed his eyes and waited. And waited.

“Did you close your eyes?” Asked Colin after a little.

Damian let out a huff and put his hands over the lenses of his mask. “There, happy?”

He waited again and the first thing he pay attention to was the rustling of clothes, that soon got drowned by the cracking of bones, a very characteristic type of sound he knew well, one that Damian hadn't heard in years but it was impossible to mistake. For a moment he felt like he did when he reencountered Colin again: breathless.

“You can open them now.”

He already knew what to expect but hearing Colin's voice, high and young, just confirmed it for him. He tried to subtly take a deep breath before removing his hands from his face, opening his eyes slowly... and there he was, in oversized clothes, just slightly taller than him, with disheveled hair, sparkling viridian eyes and freckles adorning his smiling face: Damian's childhood friend, exactly just as he last saw him, a whole life ago.    

“So,” he said, with a hint of shyness in his voice. “This is me. Like the real me.” He rolled up the sleeve of the trench coat he was practically swimming in, to offer Damian his right hand. “My name's Colin.”

Damian didn't cry when he saw Grayson the first time after coming back and he refused to do the same now, but when proceeded to remove his domino mask with both hands, he didn't miss the opportunity of using that as an excuse to rub his eyes, eliminating any trace of dampness in them.

“I'm Damian.” He finally said, shaking Colin's hand.

Colin squeezed his hand, overjoyed. “You have green eyes too!” He said it like it was the most astounding discovery. “That's so cool!"

He tried to hold back, but Damian laughed, because it seemed that joy was harder to hide than sorrow. “You're such a child.”

“Hey!” Was the pretended protest. “You're a kid too!”

“I'm older than you. In my mind, at least.”

Colin took advantage of the fact that he was still holding his hand to push Damian back. “Well, that explains why you talk like an old man.” As retaliation, Damian flicked Colin's nose with his middle finger, making him shriek with genuine offense this time. “Of course you know, this means war.”

“Ah, too bad for you, I'm a ruthless general.”

Colin was about to retort, already visualizing in his mind a tickle fight of epic proportions, when Damian's smile abruptly disappeared just before he put his hand over the com in his right ear, his relaxed posture now completely gone. It was so much easier to judge Damian's emotions without the mask and the somber look on his face made Colin fear that something bad happened to Batman and Robin. When whoever was talking on the other seemed to be done, Damian let out a sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is everything alright?” Colin asked, unsure.

Damian turned to look at him with a wry smile on his lips. “I suppose so.”

“You don't look happy.”

“Don't worry about it, it's not bad, I think. It's just that—” and he took a deep breath before continuing. “My brother has a terrible timing.”

It wouldn't surprise Damian then, if Jason chose on purpose this day to show any signs of life.

⪻Chapter 13

Chapter 15⪼

#f.r.w. #chap14

[limetameta]

I finished up more fics so I had to edit the MC reading guide:

Metallic Crimson, otherwise known as the Kimblee Never Went to Prison AU that I have been thinking non-stop about daily has many side stories. 16 side stories and 1 main story as of 5th of March 2023!

Some people have asked me about the best reading way lore-wise and I have decided to help!

The reason why these side stories exist is because if I put all of this in the main story line we'd never get anywhere. So to avoid those unnecessary flashbacks you can just hop here and read a fleshed out story for your own enjoyment.

Now what this means is that I have cursed myself with them now because there are a lot and it really does feel like the MCU (Metallic Crimson Universe) has expanded greatly lmao.

Reading guide under the cut:

What do these colours mean, limeta?

RED: LORE, MAIN STORYLINE IMPORTANT, WORLD BUILDING (ALL RED- ALL IMPORTANT; HALF RED - IMPORTANT FOR MAIN STORYLINE AND GIVES U AN EDGE TO SPOT EASTER EGGS; VERY LITTLE RED - YOU'LL GET LIKE A JOKE LATER DOWN THE MAIN STORYLINE BECAUSE YOU READ THIS)

PURPLE: Kimbliza *hearts* same logic for the above little purple little kimbliza lots of purple lots of kimbliza moments etc.

GREY: It doesn't matter if you read it or don't because it doesn't have any significant impact on the MC main storyline (except Elicia which is set after the Promised Day and carries storyline spoilers that are vague but are still spoilers of some kind)

READING ORDER:

You start with METALLIC CRIMSON always, even though it opens In Medias Res. That's the main story and if you don't like the premise then you don't have to read the other side stories at all. But if this premise does tickle your fancy you can move on to the next tier:

THE MUST READS:

Central City Stroll - clues for Kimblee's identity which is a mystery in MC and pretty important for the Kimbliza development.

Swinging Hips and Fists is BOLDED because reading this one not only gives you Amestris lore, but also gives you very important Kimblee family lore.

Maes Hughes and His Onions explains how and why Kimblee is in this cursed friend group of Maes Riza and Roy.

The Alcoholic story is bite sized so after you finish reading Maes Hughes and his Onions hop on and read this one because you get more character building for Maes and Kimblee's relationship. Gives you big pay off later in MC.

Then the lesser MUST READS but STILL A MUST READ:

It's not illegal if you don't get caught is a Kimblee parents story so honestly if you don't read that before chapter 13 you'll be a bit out of the loop and won't be able to point at your screen in glee when something happens. Also homunculi lore ahoy.

The Rebecca story - (ch1 is super important for riza's characterization; ch2 is very cringy because it's all basically a drunk tale but it helps give you a picture of what kimblee was dealing with after the war mental (un)health wise after he returned the ph stone and realised he'd fucked up *snaps fingers*, plus rebecca is wild; ch3 should be read before MC chapter 13 because tbh if you have that lore going into MC ch13 you're going to laugh at a Rebecca Solf interaction, but it's like if you don't read it you'll get it eventually)

Academy Anecdotes is important for Solf's name troubles in the Military - clues for his identity - ties in with Central City Stroll.

THE SECONDARY READS:

Weird Wild West story - Kimblee background lore, but since it's a WIP as of now it's only a read tier and not a must read tier.

Nobody likes Parades - explains why Edward isn't terrified of Kimblee

Heat Wave - heat wave and master class actually set up a joke where mustang has accidentally almost killed kimblee twice and for mc that's gonna be hectic because oh golly third time's the charm, right?

Master Class/Psych Eval - it's a WIP so it's not a Must Read but this fic is pretty important because it does have Kimblee family lore planned for it. Also Kimbliza *hearts*

IF YOU DON'T READ YOU WON'T MISS MC LORE:

Fort Briggs story - tbh all you need to know is that a joke started that nobody will call you a whore in Briggs for flirting desperately, but they will call you a horologist. Don't need to read until we actually get to the BRIGGS arc in MC proper.

12 year old story - Edward's a little menace and not scared of Kimblee anymore.

Tales of Amestris - ch2 is Riza important, ch3 is greed important, ch4 is maes, roy, gracia and olivier mira important, ch5 is solf important

Our ancestors didn't die for this - this is crack. this is so much crack and craic.

Spiders Elicia - set after MC and spoilery for MC because I am KEEPING it as VAGUE as possible - did Kimblee die? Did he not die? Did he transform into an opera singer and go into the wild to live with his musically inclined kind? We just don't know. Well I do but I'm not telling you.

#metallic crimson #limeta #fmab #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #mc timeline #mc reading guide #click on the tag for the mc timeline

[lilpunkrock]

Lou, you magical, lyrical genius, I've just re-read WYGIWG and I'm tearing up. The hints were there- I screamed when I realized Dream had entered her unconscious and took away her nightmare before painting a dreamscape- and rereading the development between Love and Dream? Godsssss my heart! Suffice to say that this week has been rough is an understatement, but my god this fic sustained me and I just keep going back to the last couple of chapters because they're so beautifully written. From the whiplash of Love closing herself off to her balancing the scales and the Interlude (😭😭😭👏) to the final part. All of it had been a joy to read and re-read so thank you for being a bright spot 😊 I can't wait for the epilogue, but I also hope you are doing ok with work and school!

As for bonus content, 👀👀👀! What were some scenes that you may have envisioned that didn't make it into the series? Will these be one shots or potential different POV parts? And I gotta know, how did you get into the groove of writing for Love? Was it music or different elements combining? Was it hard to keep her anonymous to fit for any reader's perception?

Ahhh, Ice!! Friend!! 🤍 You’re gonna make me cry! I am so sorry to hear that you had a difficult week. I’m glad that WYGIWG was a bright spot, and I hope that the weekend and upcoming week bring you much brighter days. ☀️

I’m so thrilled to hear that you re-read!! And caught some of my hints!! I was wondering if anyone was catching them! Maybe outlining all of my hints/Easter eggs should be one of my bonus content posts? 👀

As for your question about scenes that didn’t make it into the story, I don’t think there were too many of those… I did have LOTS of scene ideas when I was first outlining the story. I basically wrote down all my thoughts, put them all out in front of me, and asked, “What’s the best way to make this a coherent story? What’s going to propel the story forward?” In the end, some stuff got scrapped because it didn’t fit the narrative, or was too filler-y. On the flip side, many scenes got added along the way! For example, when I first started WYGIWG, I didn’t know if I would incorporate Hob into the story. I didn’t even decide to incorporate Destiny in until around the time I was writing chapters 10-13 (I totally re-wrote the ending of the story around that time, lol).

In the end, there were only two scenes that didn’t get included in the story. I considered writing a scene where Love learned of Dream’s past imprisonment and lamented that she wasn’t able to help him. Very, “I would have come to help you if I’d known.” The other scene scrap, I’ll copy and paste below…

. . .

As you step into the grove, the lush fauna of Fiddler’s Green seems to stretch toward you. The grass whispers sweet welcomes beneath your feet. Dandelions crane to brush your ankles in glee.

I missed you, too, you long to say. But before you can, you find their creator standing before you, a different type of beauty amongst the flora and fauna. As your eyes settle on his face, the words jump to leave your lips. You swallow them quickly.

. . .

As for writing for Love/Reader, the hardest thing was giving her a personality while keeping her anonymous. I tried to make her someone anyone could see a piece of themselves in. When I drafted her character, I outlined various motivations, influences, and personality traits, and I would often re-read these or re-read old parts of the story to remind myself of her characterization prior to writing. I’d also listen to certain songs/artists to get in the headspace for her depending on the chapter (music will be a piece of bonus content coming out very soon!) It was probably hardest to keep her anonymous when writing from Dream’s third-person-esque POV, but his POV ended up being one of my favorite things to write in this story. I like how his sections sound different than any other part of WYGIWG.

On the topic of extra scenes, are there any scenes from WYGIWG that anyone would like to see written from another character’s POV? 👀 Dream’s? Someone else’s? I’m dying to know. 👀

[ryuzakemo128]

Cosmic

Chapter Five: Mistakes

Trigger Warning/s: Cursing

Possible Pairing: Marianna x Billy Hargrove

Author's Note: I've gotten into a habit of putting little "easter eggs" in reference to other things. If you can spot them let me know.

Chapter Master List: Link

In the course of time, her dreams became increasingly seamless. At times, it was difficult for her to distinguish one dream from the other, because she could no longer distinguish between the two. She never got the nerve to listen to cassette tapes or even watch video tapes that would have explained things further. She felt as if she was running away from reality rather than facing it head on. The less she knew, the less pain she would experience and the less work she would have to do. There is no doubt that the movies she watched during that period made it clear that this is not how that sort of thing works. The more she watched them, the more she realized that wasn't true.

"I've been trying to see further for the past three days and I've had next to no progress what-so-ever." Marianna complained.

"Yeah, because you're forcing it." Andrea says as she eats her lunch.

"The thing is that I have no intention of forcing it. It happens on its own, but the details don't extend as far as I would like them to." Marianna explained.

"When was the last time you had one of these night terrors?" Darcy asked, air quoting, when he said night terrors.

"Not since Hargrove and Mayfield showed up."

"You're kidding right?" Thea raised an eyebrow.

"No, I wish I was. But I'm not."

"Darcy and I know for fact that a night terror should have happened by now because they usually do. Plus the longest you had without a night terror?"

"It used to be four days, now I can go like three days without a night terror"

"I swear you are forcing them at this point. Which is even weirder since you never liked them in the first place, and now that you have gotten used to them, you are forcing them now, and I really don't like it." Thea rambled in a frantic way.

"How else am I meant to see further into the future if I don't force it to happen?" Marianna asked curiously about what she'd say.

"I don't know, maybe there is something you can do that is less intense?" Thea suggested.

"Like green tea or something?" Marianna asked her.

"Maybe. Just maybe we'll find one that'll help. Just stop forcing the night demons to come out and play" Thea says rather annoyed.

"I don't force them, I just force the amount of what I can see into the future."

"How many days have you seen each time?"

"I've been able to see at least four days into the future so far. But if I try to get past that, I get a headache and my stomach starts hurting. Which happens after I wake up the next day. Which used to happen. Now I can see up to eight days, double what I used to be able to see."

Darcy points out. As he had seen it at least once before. "But you always have a bleeding nose afterwards."

"I also wasn't trying to limit test this thing either. So I'm asking you guys to just trust me on this one."

"We trust you, we just don't like your methods." Andrea said, folding her arms.

"Now that we have turned the subject away from Marianna's night terrors, how about seeing Billy Hargrove? Have you seen him yet?" Andrea asked, trying to turn the conversation into a more positive one instead.

"No, why would I have? I've got enough on my plate without thinking about who the new student is. You know with the night terror stuff, job and studying. Thea, you were checking him out earlier."

"I was so not." Thea blushes slightly.

"You were. I saw you look at him a number of times during Math and during English, and I saw you try to hit on him before we left for lunch."

"I have you know I've had some form of success."

"I know I had to watch because you blocked the doorway." Andrea and Marianna said in unison making Thea that much more flustered.

"Honestly, you were trying harder than you ever did. I mean, do you think he'd hang out with a freak? I mean look at us. Darcy is excluded because he's already in the crowd of popular people." Andrea says to her.

"Andrea is right, we're all freaks here, so Darcy, if the guys in the popular group have anything to say about you, you deserve better because you're friends with freaks." Marianna said dramatically, which made him laugh even harder.

"You're not getting rid of me that quickly." Darcy replied, as he finished his lunch. "If push comes to shove, I'd rather be friends with you than with those guys."

"I think Galina might dump her current boyfriend and try dating Billy. But other than her, I know for a fact that a lot of girls in our grade will be drooling over him. It's not just you two." Marianna realized as she thought about it further.

"Probable, no concrete evidence so far and honestly I don't care to know more about him." Darcy responded. "He made Steve a fool of himself in a basketball game."

"When was this?" Andrea asked him.

Thinking back, Darcy replied, "Yesterday."

"I mean I think he might have a better chance with Maria than with G anyway." Thea states pointing out the fact that Marianna's car is nicer and not to mention her personality would more than likely attract him more.

"Don't count on it happening. Put your fanfiction pencils down and stop thinking about it. It won't happen, it will never come to pass, so help me god."

"The tapes, I haven't gotten around to even trying to listen to them and I feel like I have put them off each time."

"As far as these tapes are concerned, the problem is that they reveal a lot more than you are emotionally able to handle because of that very fact. I would not recommend listening to them in the same headspace that you find yourself in at the moment." Ms. Kelly said to her as she listened to what she had to say about the tapes Marianna was given to her.

"I'll take that into consideration with them. As for the diet side of things, nothing has changed and most of it would stay the same regardless of whether I was still located in Russia or not. But like I said I'm not heading back there and I have no intention of returning back at least not in the foreseeable future." Marianna explained further about what her trip was like the year before and how she felt about it. "I also have these dreams about what might happen or what could happen if I decided to listen to them. Which deters me from listening to them that much more."

In the meantime, while she was in her counselling session with Ms. Kelly. Her friends were talking about the upcoming party that Marianna wanted to throw. As such, they decided who they didn't want to see at that party.

"Bailey isn't coming to the Halloween party this year." Thea told Andrea.

"Bummer, did she say why?"

"She's grounded for sneaking out past curfew." Thea replied, "Marianna is going to be disappointed though."

"Yeah, another year without her. Galina will show up to one up her again this year." Andrea told her.

"No, not her. They always end up friends again in a stupid drunken haze. It's fucking annoying when it happens." Thea complained.

"I know, that is why we need a back-up plan so that can never happen." Andrea confessed to Thea, Darcy and a few of Marianna's other friends.

"Can't have a repeat of this whole thing because well she's finally able to express herself without having to worry about G complaining about it." Brain said as he sat with them. "I mean if we can pull this off, if we can. We won't worry about that happening. Besides who out of us could drink her under the table or want to even try?"

"How about an invitation-only party?" Marianna suggested as she walked over just in time for their scheming to end.

"Hey Marianna we were just talking about this year's Halloween party. You might be tempted to invite a certain someone and I know you don't like being mean to anyone. We just think we should skip that person this year at least?"

"I mean we didn't get to have one last year, I suppose I can overlook the uncomfortable looks I'm getting for a few minutes. Galina is the one you're hinting at, so yeah. She'll never get invited again after this one either. If that makes you comfortable then I won't invite her."

"You did make sure to get the vodka imported over from Russia right?" Brian asked curiously.

"Yeah. Of course I did. I made sure there is more than enough. I just hope it's not too much." Marianna responded thinking about it more thoroughly. "Although I think my uncle might send over too much."

"Yeah. You did that for my 18th birthday and I still haven't gotten through it all. I will also bring that." Thea remembers it.

"One condition, you have to invite the new guy." Andrea says eyeing him as he walks in.

"Who's this new guy? Why didn't anyone else tell me about him?" Walter glanced at him too.

"I mean we didn't get to have one last year, I suppose I can overlook the uncomfortable looks I'm getting for a few minutes. Galina is the one you're hinting at, so yeah. She'll never get invited again after this one either. If that makes you comfortable then I won't invite her." Marianna says as she combines her lunch, ignoring Andrea and Walter.

"Just like that?" Thea asked baffled.

"Just like that." Marianna replied as she ate her lunch. "You made it sound like it was going to be far more difficult than it was."

"I think it would be fair to say that we have every right to be shocked by this outcome. Aside from the fact that you were never one to single people out, and you avoided confrontation most of the time. So yeah. We have every right to be shocked." Brain gestured with his hand.

After school had finished, her friends headed home or headed out to after school clubs. Marianna had to go to another one of her kickboxing classes and all she could think about was watching the VHS tapes. But the warning from Ms. Kelly wasn't enough to dissuade her from watching them as soon as she returned home.

She put one of the VHS tapes on to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she should see what they were like. Volume one: The truth was written on the tape.

"I know she told me not to watch or listen to any of them yet. But I really want to. Just watching the first one won't hurt. I'm sure it won't hurt if I check out the first one." Marianna says to her cats as if they understand her. "Great talk guys. You're full of great ideas."

The video starts. The first thing she sees is 500 children in stasis chambers. The reason that some of them are empty is that they were subjected to more invasive tests than others. "My child will outlive them. I will ensure it." A young scientist told one of the interviewers.

She was asked, "What about her father? Doesn't he have a say in any of this?"

"What he does not know cannot hurt him." She replied. "Our child will thank us for this gift we have given her. I am certain of it."

"Having noticed the use of these stasis pods, I was wondering if there was a reason why you chose to use them instead of just using normal rooms?"

"There are fifty stasis pods in each room, and the ones that don't survive will be reused. So we can move on to the next one and still have enough room for the children to come in." She explained.

"What is your name if you don't mind me asking?"

"You can call me Katarina." She responded.

"Well Katarina, would you mind showing me what child is the one you told me about?"

"I have made sure that my beloved butterfly is in the last room far away from any impurities that may occur." She said leading him down the hallway that led to room eleven. It had a white door and a gold handle, engraved with the number 011.

It was a liquid stasis pod, as opposed to the ones previously shown where the children were floating in it. The mother used a liquid that seemed to be floating and held the child still with it. There's also one with the engraving of the Seer on it. As the camera scans the stasis pod, we can see how different it looks compared to the other ones. Some of the reasons are because the tank is larger, it can hold more liquid at the same time, and it also appears more solid at the same time. There was something akin to a combination of a cyro pod and a stasis pod in the pod. The subject was not lying in a fetal position like the others. A thick liquid holds them in place.

The woman painted butterfly wings on each side of the tank so that everyone in the building knew not to approach the child. Her mother might have killed them if they approached the tank.

"Butterfly, I brought someone to meet you." Katarina whispers softly.

"She looks so much like you doctor." He says as they enter the room. "I'm sure you've heard that a million times already."

"Not to worry. She's one of the precious little things I have."

Marianna had to pause the tape after her mother said that about her calling her friend Darcy. "Can you come over? I think you need to watch this as much as I do. I don't think I can watch the rest of it on my own." 

"Sure, I can head over there in a few minutes." Darcy replied before also saying, "Didn't you say you were putting those off though?"

"Yeah, until I gave up and thought let's watch it and see what it's about." Marianna explained, "So yeah mistakes were made and that's how I got to this point."

The next day, Marianna handed out invitations for her Halloween party, further indicating that if you were invited, it meant she wanted to be friends with you.

"Hey Steve, I think it would be pretty cool if you came to my Halloween party this year."

"Yeah, cool. I'll be there." Steve replied.

"Sweet, I'll see you then." Marianna continued on to invite Billy Hargrove, the arrogant hardass in the body of a seventeen year old. She knew he wouldn't show up, but she had to invite the guy anyway because apparently being kind to him was incredibly significant.

"Hi, I would appreciate it if you came to my Halloween party this year."

"Fuck off"

"Well you can either show up, or don't show up. I really don't care." Marianna replied as she walked off leaving the invitation there for him.

Marianna then proceeded to yell out "Thea, it's done. I've done it. Don't ask me to invite him again." Her friend Thea began to blush in total embarrassment after that. She invited more people.

As the school day came to a close her kickboxing class came closer and closer. Another thing to dread, another thing to worry about because they were going to be held on the school basketball court.

"My manga tournament arc is finally coming up." Marianna thinks to herself.

"Mara, it's almost time." Derek said to her.

"Derek, I'm excited to kick ass and take names." Marianna responded getting pretty excited.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Billy asked them.

"Not that it is any of your business we're here for kickboxing." Marianna states, "And no he isn't fighting either, I am. He's just my cheerleader."

"What's the matter grump ass? Don't you want to watch me fight?" She yelled out to him as he walked off. Marianna walked in with Derek.

"Gosh, someone is grumpier than I'd imagine." Derek yelled out loud for Billy to hear him.

While the people watching did not think that she would win any of the fights that she participated in throughout the afternoon, she won them all; battles that, if she had lost them, would have looked as if she had lost them, battles that clearly showed that she had an advantage over her opponents regardless of what her opponents thought.

"Told you I could fight." Marianna says to Billy. "So I was thinking, since after everything you might want to show up to that Halloween party."

"Don't answer, you still don't have to. I just thought it might be fun." Marianna said before he made any kind of insult. "I also said it to get the reaction I wanted. Which I got."

#Stranger Things #Stanger Things Fanfiction #Stranger Things Fanfic #Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader #Billy Hargrove x Female Reader #Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove x Female Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove x y/n #Billy Hargrove x Reader #Billy Hargrove x Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium 3: Chapter 1

Tempus excitare. (Time to wake up.)

A gentle snowfall, the whistling winds growing stronger as the daylight ceased to be. As the sun arched below the horizon, the Desserta Caravan retreated into the warmth of their huts. It had been a productive day, and the warmth that radiated from each of the Nopon was indicative of a bright day, a bright family. 

But amidst the Nopon, one figure walked, a humanoid, a black sheep amongst the herd. A long flowing cape fluttered behind him, featuring small tears in the fabric, a handmade quality to it. Long, braided black hair perched over his right shoulder, atop a sharpened gold breastplate. Where there would’ve been a face was instead a skull, a large mask to hide his features, painted with vibrant blues and purples on its two sets of horns. The many Nopon were short enough to look below the skull’s snout and pointed teeth to see the three prominent scars over his right eye, but to all else, he was an enigma, he was hidden in plain sight.

He pushed aside the flap to a particular tent, ducking down to enter. Inside were a grand total of ten Nopon, though not all were fully grown. Only one was large enough to be an adult, white fur shifting to pink by the top of his head, a fur coat covering his body. This was Froyoyo, the Legendary Heropon, his resting scowl now transformed into a theatrical grin as he waved his wings with grandeur. All of his littlepon stacked on top of each other on their bed, entranced by the story he was telling them and far from their slumber.

“...two gods create all of universes,” Froyoyo continued, hardly minding the figure’s entry into the tent, “As well as all life itself. Then, gods disappear without trace. Gods left behind ether, building block of life itself, and ether formed more life on own. Some ether beings good, but just as many ether beings bad.”

“Mamapon is one of good ether beings, though!” One of the littlepon chirped, pink with a strawlenny clip in her tuft of hair. “And bad ether beings -”

“Shush! Tutti Frutti going to ruin story!” Another littlepon, brown with beige and chocolate splotches, complained loud enough to make Froyoyo chuckle. As Froyoyo spoke of these great wonders, the story unraveling at his command, the figure sat himself down next to Tutti Frutti, who immediately took this as an offer to climb onto his lap and snuggle up. 

“Starr is late,” She whispered, “Did Mamapon keep Starr for extra training?”

“She did. We will tell you about it later,” Starr hushed her gently, a promise made. He looked up at Froyoyo, hardly minding his presence. This was a story he’d told before, but one that never ceased to hold the littlepons’ attention - and Starr’s, for that matter. How couldn’t he be fascinated by a tale of creation, when he himself was one?

Creation? Destruction? What are we?

Perhaps both. They say things must be destroyed before they are created.

Mm. And I was…

“...and ether beings form,” Froyoyo snapped Starr out of his thoughts, divided and unconquered, “Wifeypon and Mamapon Vanala is one ether being, very powerful indeed! Has lived very long life, long life where she gather lots of ether powers. Goal became spreading life throughout cosmos, very noble indeed!”

“Mamapon’s the coolest,” A littlepon emerged from behind Starr, the fluffiest among them. It was none other than Sprinkle Sprinkle, and Starr was surprised for a moment that he wasn’t floating. He’d grown rather proud of his wind ether capabilities, as amateur as his control currently was. 

Froyoyo rolled his eyes, though the gesture wasn’t mocking, far from it. “Wifeypon is very cool. Now stop interruptions. Froyoyo can’t finish story at this rate.” Waiting for everyone to settle down once more, he cleared his throat, kept going, “Now while Vanala is good ether being, very bad ones exist. Bad ones eat ether, and when Vanala got lots of ether, made her prime target for big baddies called yggraliths! Very scary creatures, size of whole planets!”

A littlepon winced; Lalime was never one for the thrills of this particular tale or any other. Lelemon, her twin, was already fast asleep beside her, and Lalime tried to breathe in sync with her sister’s soft snoring. 

“Two yggraliths found Vanala one day and chased her far and wide across galaxies! Vanala ran for long time, but grew tired. Came to planet Mira and landed not far from caravan. But the two yggraliths, Corvhesperikon and Syriahnydra, followed her all the way to Mira! Had big battle, and Vanala too tired to fight on lonesome! Luckily she found Froyoyo who came to help!”

“And Mamapon and Dadapon beat up two yggraliths together!” The largest littlepon, the eldest, cheered from behind one of his much smaller brothers, a yellow littlepon with a dead smile, “And then had littlepon and adopted Starr! Happy ending!”

“Well, had help from Telethia in Noctilum, but very accurate,” Froyoyo chuckled, “And missed whole story about Froyoyo and Vanala’s romance -”

“Blegh,” The beige and chocolate speckled littlepon from before, Rockoroad, gagged audibly, “Romance stupid! Just want more fight scenes!”

“Not tonight,” Froyoyo told him, “Right now, littlepon need to sleep.”

Complaints from all the littlepon except for Lelemon, fast asleep even through the noise. Starr took the opportunity to hoist Tutti Frutti off of his lap, and almost immediately Sprinkle Sprinkle jumped onto his back. In the midst of everyone groaning about the curfew, Starr shrugged at Froyoyo, who grinned with appreciation. This was a routine at this point, Starr helping him calm the littlepon down for the night, but it never came at a small cost. 

“Come on, everyone,” Starr said, “If you go to sleep now, we will tell you all about our encounter with Pyotr to -”

Wait, no, that was just my encounter. Not yours.

Right, shit, I was hardly there. Just keep going, bluff it.

You know I have a hard time lying.

Whatever, I can lie. Shush.

“- tomorrow. How he knocked two Skells out of the sky, how he kicked us and our friends -”

MY friends.

L’Cirufe was my friend. Close enough with the other two.

“- and when all hope seemed lost, how we spoke to him and managed to convince him not to attack anymore.”

The littlepon all looked on in wonder, enamored by this newly discovered story. Some small whispers amongst themselves, and it was decided that they’d go to sleep peacefully just this once, all for the chance to hear the story in full when the dawn broke. As they each climbed into their respective bedrolls, Starr moved to follow Froyoyo outside, but before he fully exited the tent he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Good night, everyone.”

A chorus of “Good night, Starr!” soon followed, and he couldn’t help but smile as he left the tent and encountered the bitter cold once more. A couple steps away from the tent, Froyoyo stopped, turned, looked up. 

“Still weird telling that story. Feels like not long ago that wifeypon came into Froyoyo’s life. Wonderful blessings, her and littlepon and caravan and Starr.”

“Growing reminiscent in your old age?” Starr quipped, and the Nopon laughed, heartily and from his stomach. 

“Hardly. Not one day goes past where Froyoyo not thankful for everything. Age has nothing to do with being grateful.” Froyoyo stretched a wing out, yawning as a bone cracked under the tension. “Starr worked hard today. Should get rest.”

“Will you not require our services for the nighttime watch?”

“Have any big scary monsters attacked caravan in past weeks?”

“Well -”

“Penginon flock walking past not count.”

“But the -”

“Caribears friendly and not mean harm. All one did was look for food in tent, and tent hardly damaged in scavenge.”

“What about -”

“Dusklyre wolves were on horizon. Never even looked at caravan. Nopon never been wolves’ target, so nothing to fear.”

Starr sighed through his mouth. There was no winning this argument, though he could certainly try. “If you do need backup, you know you can wake us up at any time. We can even take the second shift if -”

“Vanala taking second shift.”

“- if something happens to her and you need a third party present, we -”

“Go to bed.”

Froyoyo’s voice had been playfully stern up until that moment, where he instead opted to command Starr in what the littlepon referred to as his “Dadapon Voice”. Froyoyo even put his little hands on his hips, beginning to glare as if it’d scare Starr into submission. Thankfully, the Dadapon Voice had already done the trick. Silenced and rightfully frustrated, Starr turned on his heel and proceeded towards his tent, only looking behind him once to see if Froyoyo was still watching. He was, but the glare had simmered down significantly. No use parading it around anymore.

“Good night, Starr,” He called out, and Starr nodded as a reply. A part of him still wanted to stay awake, see if Froyoyo would go back on his word and call upon him for his aid. But in the back of his mind, he knew better. Froyoyo would have Vanala tonight, and the two were a fearsome pair. If anything dared to attack them in the night…

No. No, he needed to relax. That was one of the biggest things he needed to teach himself, one of the biggest lessons that hadn’t quite stuck in the months he’d spent with the caravan. They’d be proud, the both of them, if he ended up listening to Froyoyo and going to sleep. 

Starr reached his tent, opened the flap and removed his mask once the flap was closed. The tent was custom built, slightly larger than the rest scattered across the snowy plain. It was still a cozy fit, but in the time he spent with the caravan, he was happy to call this his home. He placed his mask on his bedside table, a log that all nine of the littlepon had wheeled into his tent while he wasn’t looking. There was a series of carvings on the sides, but the most prominent was a messy drawing of the entire family, plus Starr. The littlepon had even initialed their names below with little hearts. Starr admired it for a moment; it was the closest thing to a family photo he’d ever had, and it warmed his heart every time he saw it. They’d accepted him so quickly into their ranks despite his…despite his everything.

It means there is hope. If Froyoyo and his family can love you so readily, then you can love yourself just as much. Just as much as I love you.

I do not believe you. 

You will.

Starr sat down on his bedroll, tucking his legs up to his chest. He still wasn’t used to this, whatever this was, exactly. The voices he heard, they weren’t his. They belonged to Pongo and Mira, the two entities that fused to form him. He never once heard his own thoughts - it was just them. Only them. How were they able to tolerate each other before this mess? How could one hear the other’s thoughts without going mad? 

Starr removed his breastplate and pushed it up against the log before lying down, folding his hands on top of his stomach. They never followed him into his slumber, the voices he heard. Sleep had become a sanctuary, but he felt selfish calling it an escape. After all, didn’t the caravan need him? Would they be sad if he were to leave, fall asleep forever? Gods above, what terrible thoughts. Maybe it was best to let Pongo and Mira have that space to themselves. For now, Starr closed his eyes, forgetting to roll the covers over himself as he drifted off into sleep.

~

Nightmares had always frequented Pongo’s sleep, when he was alive. Mira never had any dreams of its own. It was always a gamble, figuring out which one of the two would penetrate the unconscious. Tonight was a quick realization: this was a nightmare.

The skies above were a stormy gray, clouds obscuring every last bit of sunlight. It only afforded light in the form of lightning, striking in magnificent blues and purples above the snowy field. He shielded his face from the rain - rain? In Cocytios? How was that possible? No, he couldn’t focus on that. He peered through his fingers up at the clouds, and instantly, a cloud parted for two little figures, tumbling through the atmosphere and showing no sings of stopping. One was pink, round, familiar. The other was humanoid, consumed in flames, trailing ashes and failing embers behind them. He took a few weak steps forward, trying to pinpoint where they would both be landing. One step, two step, three -

The clouds parted again. Two more figures emerged, but they weren’t humanoid, they weren’t small. These were the size of continents, their roars piercing through the rolling thunder. One was serpentine, massive blue and black body collecting lightning as it traveled. The other was black, feathered, six massive pairs of wings creating wind torrents that somehow reached him and pushed him back despite the distance between them. Eyes wide, he could only watch as the serpentine creature gave chase, following the two falling figures past the horizon, behind a mountain he didn’t realize was there. But the feathered monstrosity had found a new target, turning its head and pointing its beak towards him. The, a deafening screech, beak opening to reveal three rows of sharpened incisors, and the flapping of all its wings as it approached sickeningly fast, allowing no time for him to dodge, to run, to do ANYTHING -

“THIS TIME, WE WILL SUCCEED. THIS TIME, YOU WILL HAVE NOTHING LEFT. SLEEP, AIDONEUS, SLEEP, AND LET US LIVE ONCE MORE.”

Something cracked. He screamed into the waking world.

#xenoblade x #Imperium 3: Chapter 1 #so how many easter eggs can you spot in this chapter? #there's two very big ones :3 #I can hear you screaming already lmao #anyways let's make a promise to hug starr after this

[electroman-adventures]

Level: “scarlet field” by cerufiffy (Medium Demon 10 ★)

(flashing warning)

This is one of the best levels I’ve had the privilege of showcasing in recent days. Every part of this demon is amazing! It’s themed around the game “Deltarune”, but instead of being based on the whole game it seems to focus solely on Chapter 1. The level just got rated “epic” last Friday.

Many places and characters are referenced here! These include Castle Town, the Field, Seam’s Shop, Susie, the Great Board with K. Round, the Thrash Machine (aka Rubber Duck), the Scarlet Forest with Clover, the Bake Sale shops, and the Card Castle—in that order.

At 14% in the level, you might notice 3 card suits, with the text “don’t forget”. This is a nod to the same message from the original game, but also it serves as a tip: you need to memorize these suits, otherwise you’ll die at the 3 split paths at 66%. And yes, they are randomly generated.

So why is this level special? People already made levels about Deltarune Ch. 1 back in 2018. The answer to that is simple: they’re way worse than this level. This has amazing theming, designs, and creativity. In fact, cerufiffy built this level by taking inspiration from many of those 2018 levels!

Now that would be the end of this post. But in fact, this level is way deeper than it seems, and that’s where I talk about the easter eggs in the level editor! (under the cut)

This level took a lot to make. You can see a bunch of triggers under the level, and cerufiffy even lists the levels he took inspiration from.

ahhh!!! it’s ralsei jumpscare.

if you die at the top spike at the robot, you get this death message. and… what?

oh wow it’s the seam seap! (pronounced “shawm shop”) and he even linked the tweet where he got some of the art, that’s thoughtful. i spot temmie on the shelf!

sans.

oh no!!!! well at least the art turned out amazing

GOD SAMEEEE 😳😳😳

hm. yeah idk either

(i will consider thanks)

(translated from minecraft enchanting table language: “YOU DONT LOVE YOURSELF ENOUGH)

aw, thanks! :’)

OMG IT’S THE DEVIL VORTEX SAUCE

and that’s it. there’s also way more i haven’t shown, i haven’t shown his randomizer or how to get the egg. but that’s it for this showcase

#geometry dash #electroman reviews #deltarune

[sketch-mer-6195]

A Fall From This Height: Chapter 6: Can’t Leave! (Frank Castle x Isabella Kahale {OFC})

Word Count: 1790 Warnings: Car Chase, Swearing, Frank being mad Taglist: @self-conscious-author @ocfairygodmother @girl-of-many-fandoms @fizzyxcustard​ A/N: I am soooooooooooooooooooo sorry for the long wait. I just had a hard time pushing through along with everything outside of tumblr. Please enjoy! And enjoy a teeny easter egg to one movie that Bernthal was in back in 2017. Can you spot it?!

Aim, fire, reload, repeat. That was the pattern that both Frank and the men who were driving after them did. Bella behind the wheel as she did her best to dodge and avoid serious damage to her truck. Taking a sharp right hand turn to go down another road, Frank took the opportunity to get a clear shot of the SUV behind them. With expert precision, he shot the driver and the passenger where they lost control and crashed into a large oak tree. But three more SUV's followed behind with more bullets raining down upon them. Both Frank and Bella ducked before she put the pedal to the metal and drove down the empty road.

"God damn it!!" She cursed as she shifted from first to second gear with ease. “Hold on!”

With a flip of a switch, her truck went from going 75 miles an hour to 120 miles an hour thanks to her nitrous. Frank was lurched back into his seat from the sudden power, but the SUV’s weren’t able to keep up with her truck and did their best to keep up. But the infamous red and blue flashing lights lit up the night sky. The SUV’s dispersed behind Bella and Frank, but two cop cars were following suit with her to try and stop her.

“Now what?” Frank asked, looking at Bella as she was looking straight ahead with a look of determination before looking at her rear-view mirror.

With another flip of the switch, her second tank of nitrous kicked in down the road. The cops did their best to keep up and they were. Bella cursed under her breath and found a dirt road coming up. Taking the sharp turn and skidding across the asphalt, Bella shifted gears and punched it to go deep into the dark woods. One cop car followed while the other stayed at the entrance of the road. Come to find that it was a game trail and with the fresh rain, mud and pools were swamping the trail. The cop car swerved on the slick mud and spun out of control until it was wedged between two trees. Bella looked through the mirror and smirked before shutting off her head lights to vanish into the night.

Frank on the other hand was baffled at her driving and how she was able to get away from the cops. Now something was up that he didn’t like. First the men at the diner, then her house being shot up, and now her driving away like she stole the truck and robbed a bank. Those men weren’t after him. They were after her.

“Bella, what’s going on?”

But she didn’t respond, instead she turned back on the headlights and followed a different trail and drove in silence.

“Bella.” Frank called out again, this time a little firm in his tone.

“Not now, Pete.”

“No, now.” Frank demanded, but didn’t raise his voice.

He could see her jaw clench slightly as she contemplated on whether to talk or not. As they drove, she finally got onto a main road and drove west bound in silence. Frank’s patience was growing thin on her, and he didn’t want to snap. But he had to know.

“So what, we gonna keep secrets from each other now?” He started.

Bella glanced at him with a shocked look. “The hell are you talking about?!”

“Don’t bullshit me. Those guys from the diner, the shoot out, your grand theft driving skills. People don’t just make this shit up, Bella.” Frank explained as he tried to keep his growing temper in check. “So, I'm gonna ask again. What the hell is going on?”

Bella glanced at him and shook her head. “I don’t know and right now, I don’t want to even think. I just want to find a motel and go to sleep.” 

Frank was growing impatient with her and her avoiding his questions head on. He knew she was lying and how calm she was during the whole ordeal meant that she had known for a long time something like this was going to happen to her.

“Pull over.”

Bella looked back at him with a raised brow.

“Excus-”

“I said, pull over!” Frank barked.

She quickly did and put it in park. Frank jumped out of the truck which Bella followed suit as he began to walk away from the truck.

“What the hell are you doing?! You can’t just leave!?” She called after him.

Frank let out a huff of a chuckle before turning on his heels and towering over his girlfriend. “I don’t associate myself with liars. So, until you finally tell me what’s going on, I’m done with this. M’kay?”

Bella stood there, shocked at his words and hurt all the same. Was he really breaking up with her already? Because of what just happened? She shook her head and went to grab his wrists to try and stop him. Frank was quick to snatch her and pull her arm behind her back, not hurting her, but stopping her which caused her to fight against his grip.

“Don’t. Hey, hey. Stop, alright.” Frank said, his tone even which seemed to only frustrate her more.

“Don’t go! Alright! Just don’t leave me.” Bella grunted as she tried to free herself from his strong grasp.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his breath hitting the shell of her ear and making her mentally groan in frustration.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know why this is happening!?” She said. Another lie.

Frank spun her and easily pushed her to the grass with a thump before he strode back to her truck. Bella, who was now face first into the grass and mud, pushed herself to her hands and knees before looking at Frank’s figure hop into the driver side of her truck and put it in drive. She sprung to her feet as Frank began to drive away with her truck.

“HEY! PETE! STOP!!” She screamed after him as she ran as fast as her bare feet would let her.

Only fifteen feet he drove until he came to a stop. Bella soon caught up to her truck and opened the door only to have Frank drive forward some. Bella swore at him only to have him slam on the brakes to stop the vehicle again. She wrenched the door open only to glare at him and receive a glare back from the man himself. But Frank wasn’t that big of an ass. He jutted his head, giving Bella the okay to get in. Max had hopped up on the seat between them where he laid down with his head on Bella’s muddy and wet lap. Frank put the truck in gear and began to drive in silence. And that's how it was, a thick tense uncomfortable feeling between them both which neither could ever think would happen to them.

Bella kept her gaze down to her lap, the mud drying onto her skin and her own walls slowly building back up. She couldn’t bring herself to reopen old wounds and just tell him. And she certainly didn't want to bring up her past. What would he think of her? Shit, what would he do to her if he knew a fraction of what she had done in her past? Frank could feel the uneasiness between them and how she was growing distant with him already. And here he was, the one who had a shit ton of luggage. Keeping his own past six feet under his own feet, at least trying to cope with his past. He had already begun to take a chance by falling in love once again. After Maria and the kids. He finally felt his own shell of a heart beat with new life when he was with Bella. Now, he felt like he was with an impostor. A joker dressed as Bella.

As the drive continued, they pulled into a small little motel. Frank had gone in and booked them a room for the night and drove to the small separated buildings. Studios with enough room for two beds and a bathroom. Once there, Frank looked over to Bella who had begun to play with Max's ears which the dog didn't mind. In fact, he enjoyed the attention. She had glanced up and avoided Frank’s gaze to see they had parked at their building. Reaching down, she pulled out a backpack from under the seat and began to open the door to get out. But a hand stopped her. Frank’s hand, that gently grasped her wrist. Her own pulse spiked, something he could feel under his fingers.

"Bella… Why are those guys after you?" He asked gently.

He didn't want to argue. He didn't want to fight. All he wanted was answers and the truth. Bella stayed frozen, praying that someone or something would have swallowed her right on the spot. But she merely sighed and gently pulled away from his grasp, which Frank allowed, and got out of the truck.

"Damn it…" He cursed under his breath before grabbing his duffel bag and following her to the door of the motel room.

Sliding in the key card and unlocking the door, Bella made a b-line to the bathroom where she closed the door and locked it. Frank sighed and went to the bed closest to the door, throwing his bag on the bed and sitting on the edge. He dropped his face in his hands and let out a heavy sigh as he listened to the shower run. It was only a few minutes until Bella had come out in clean panties and a crop top with the Rolling Stones logo on the front. The small tattoos that littered her thighs all around. He shamelessly followed her curves and lines up to where the outline of her small chest was showing under her shirt. Following further up where her supple lips formed a thin line as she avoided his gaze.

Running a hand through his hair, Frank let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. This was getting nowhere, he thought. He needed to know who, what, and why these men were after her. Grabbing a chair and placing it at the foot of the bed, he sat down with a grunt and rested his elbows on his knees. Bella, who was checking the bed for bed bugs, glanced over her shoulder to see him staring right at her. She knew he was asking her, there were no words that needed to be spoken. Once his mind was set on something, he wasn’t going to stop until he found the answer or solved the situation.

(If you would like to be added or removed from the taglist, please message me below or in private chat, Thank you!)

#The Punisher #Frank Castle x OC #frank castle #A Fall From This Height #OC

[onbeinganangel]

mari horcruxes

i was tagged by two of my favourite people! @ohdrarry who shared her own portrait of the artist here and @the-starryknight who started all this in the first place with her ‘writerly ephemera’ challenge, which was inspired by a conversation in the microfic server about the ghosts of ourselves we leave behind when writing! here are some Mari things i’ve left behind on some of my fics:

“It’s almost as if the wireless is on and the french toast is frying away in the pan — the kitchen rich with the scents of cinnamon and honey — and Harry is barefoot, spinning him around the kitchen table, a warm firm hand under Draco’s t-shirt, against his bare back.”

do it again (draco/harry, 764 words, T)

✨ this is a little portrait of your typical Sunday morning in the Angel household! it's been a tradition for years now and I'm not really sure how it started but Sunday mornings are for french toast and dancing in the kitchen

“There is something about the way Draco Malfoy reacts to the gems and fossils. Something that tells Harry Draco wants to reach out and touch them, like touching them will tell him all their secrets.

Harry approaches him when he’s examining an insect preserved in amber inside a glass case. Harry doesn’t say anything, just stands there, next to Draco.”

Rebirth (Coming Home) (harry/regulus, draco/harry/regulus, 15k, T)

✨ ah, the secret is out: I am a picnic whore. the whole London day out in Rebirth is actually a nod to my first date with my now-husband (Natural History Museum followed by a picnic in St. James’ park)! in the fic the boys have their picnic in Clapham Common where I also had a lovely picnic date a few years back! and Greenwich is also mentioned by Harry as a possible picnic spot and that’s also a mention of another date I had. like i said: picnic whore. no regrets, i am a simple woman (invite me on picnic dates, pls)

“She doesn’t remember where she heard it first. It may have been one of the other girls in the dorms. May have been Fleur and Tonks, the way they’d giggle and trade stories back in Grimmauld Place while Ginny and Hermione soaked up their older girl wisdom.

The exact words were “a wank and a pint of water,” but she knows now that you can mix it up a little bit. An orgasm and a bacon sandwich will do the job just as well.”

clean (ron/hermione, 1k, E)

✨ so, anyone feel like sharing their hangover cures? haha, I personally lean towards Fleur and Tonks’ advice more than Hermione’s here. it has become a bit of a joke in my group of friends in recent years that if someone mentions they’re hungover I will immediately prescribe “a wank and a can of coke,” I don't know what the science is behind it, all I'm saying is it works

“The only thing he takes with him whenever he is away from home for longer than one night is wrapped in one of his t-shirts: a gold picture frame so small that it fits in the palm of his hand. It’s clipped shut, but when he opens it, it becomes twice as large and on one side, there’s a picture of Teddy trying to hop on a broom, falling and laughing, and on the other side there’s baby Rose dressed in a mustard yellow corduroy dress Harry bought for her when she was born, propped against a ton of pillows on Hermione and Ron’s bed.”

Aeternus Solem (draco/harry, 36k, E)

✨ i actually forgot i had written this into AS until i went looking for bits for this tag game! i own a little gold picture frame just like Harry's and i keep two pictures of my goddaughter in mine! one is of her laughing in her parents’ garden a couple of summers ago and the other one is of her as a baby, wearing a little mustard yellow dress I bought her, propped up against a ton of pillows, very much like the picture of Rose Harry has

“She pops an olive into her mouth and keeps humming around it. It’s not Chopin, is it? It’s some muggle thing. A soft folk song he’s heard before. He thinks it’s a sad song.”

Inevitable (From The Very Start) (draco/harry, 54k, E)

✨ inevitable has so many moments that are plucked straight from my life. I wrote so much of my own grief and trauma I was dealing with last year into this fic that re-reading it is at times a bit embarrassing. the pub at the beginning of the fic, Philip (knit-wearing hottie, Elton John fan, record collector, gem of a human — all true), the argument that leads to dog acquisition, and listing things as a coping mechanism are good examples. the entirety of Draco’s personality is also very much a self portrait. I picked this quote out of the Nightmare Chapter (Chapter 7) because that chapter specifically was a mix of a lot of shit I was going through at the time. the scene in the kitchen post Astoria's diagnosis is very much a scene from real life — I have a tendency to go very numb/act cool and collected in the face of tragedy which doesn't always look good on me and Draco's anger at Astoria in this chapter was a little bit like the spiderman meme: it was a part of me looking at the other part of me and going "wtf is wrong with you?". the quote i picked is a memory from when I was in hospital last year! I was very fuzzy and sad and lost and alone and I remember thinking something similar to what Draco is thinking here about a song that was playing somewhere (the tv probably? someone's phone? like i said, memory is fuzzy), and it’s just one of many Mari easter eggs I left in that chapter that was a nightmare (pun intended) to write

#writerly ephemera #tag game #m babbles

[seaoflittlefires]

Still deserve a bit of fun

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry reconnects with Mary Macdonald who tells him about his parents and their group of friends in the '70s. When he hears about their camping trip to Cornwall, he decides to take his friends there, but while Harry is set on having fun and forgetting all about the war, not everyone finds it easy.

This is lots of dialogue, mostly about the golden and silver trio trying to process what happened to them and dealing with the angst of having lost their teenage years to war. It's heavily inspired by MsKingBean89's All the Young dudes; the catalyst for the plot is an exchange between Harry and Mary Macdonald as she is portrayed in the fic.

While this story can be understood without having read ATYD, there are a bunch of easter eggs and parallels that will be better appreciated with it in mind.

Word count: 5.4k

Read on AO3

Prologue

It was the strangest letter Harry had ever received. And of course, he’d had his fair share of mysterious letters. But this one was particularly mind-boggling because the very idea of Mary seemed like an impossibility. A friend of his parents’, a member of their class at Hogwarts, still alive, completely untouched by the war or by the magical world itself.

At first Harry expected to be a bit resentful: Why had this woman not joined them in the fight against Voldemort when she knew first-hand what he was capable of? And also, why hadn’t she ever reached out if she had truly been so close to James and Lily, if she knew so much? Harry felt he could have used a letter like this much sooner. But there was something about Mary’s story that made him instinctively understand where she was coming from: Her friends had died one by one at the hands of Voldemort. She’d been in danger during the wars for being a muggleborn. And even in times of peace, she had felt like a bit of an outsider in a wizarding community that didn’t care to explain much to people whose families weren’t magic, that simple thrust these kids into a new, dangerous world and hoped for the best. And of course, it was a community that, despite its hatred of Voldemort, had nonchalantly allowed the ideology of blood purity to remain a part of daily life even within Hogwarts and often continued to spread it. Harry could most certainly relate to her resentment. And so he’d decided to forgive Mary for everything she hadn’t been able to do, and to enjoy what seemed like an invaluable second chance, especially after the deaths of Sirius and Remus: Here was someone who’d been close to his parents and mentors when they had all been kids. Someone who’d known them long before Harry was even a possibility. He had a million questions, and Mary answered them all.

She had initially reached out a few weeks after the battle of Hogwarts to offer her condolences for Remus, her only remaining friend from the wizarding world. She’d been devastated to hear about his death, but also shocked to know about the role that Harry had played in the war. She remembered him from when he was a baby and she wanted to pass along a few photos she still had from those days. Harry had been elated to know her and to get this account of the first few months of his life.

But as they continued writing to each other, always by muggle post, other things that Mary knew proved to be even more invaluable. She wrote of his parents long before they were his parents, long before they were even together. She wrote about meeting Lily in first year, helping each other navigate the newness of their abilities and their surroundings. She wrote of hours spent talking to her and Marlene, laughing together, helping each other through homework and bullies and unrequited love. She wrote about Remus, who’d first gotten close to them, about his generosity and his talent for teaching, even when he was still a student himself. She wrote about the rivalry with the boys and how it had later morphed into friendship. About the Great Snogging Race, about quidditch, about James and his romantic gestures, about Sirius and his music. She wrote about legendary parties and the pranks, so many pranks. The time they’d made it impossible for purebloods to use slurs by swapping the words for nonsense. The time they’d set off fireworks in the grounds for Remus’s birthday. The time they’d formed an inter-house cooperative to teleport the entire Slytherin common room into the lake. Harry devoured each of her letters with joy.

There was one anecdote that stood out to him, probably because Mary spoke of it with such love and nostalgia: The summer before their seventh year, right before the first war had gotten really ugly, they had all taken a trip to Cornwall. They’d done camping the old-fashioned muggle way and gone to the beach and been silly teenagers. It had been during that trip that Harry’s parents had finally gotten together. He could picture them all laughing by the shore or sitting around a fire. He could see Sirius’s cheeky grin and Remus’s eyes sparkling mischievously and his parents, the way they were in the pictures Mary sent. Happy. Carefree. Young.

When he proposed the idea to Ginny, she was thrilled. Hermione took come convincing but Ron helped her come around and Neville proved easy once he knew that Luna was going. They set off at the end of July, apparating into the campsite with muggle tents and equipment. The weather was perfect and they quickly found a spot within the site. As they unpacked, Harry looked around him and sighed. This was exactly like he had pictured it. He was ready to begin again.

Chapter 1

They’d brought two tents, one for the boys and one for the girls, which they began to assemble at their spot in the camping site. At first they tried the muggle way but Neville almost poked someone’s eye out with a pole and Luna got trapped inside one of the tents while trying to raise it. After about fifteen minutes of this, Ron and Hermione took over and, after quickly verifying that nobody was looking, everyone also began to use spells to help get it all done.

Luna grabbed her wand, but instead of helping Ginny assemble the poles, she began to murmur an enchantment that none of them found familiar.

“What are you doing?” Asked Ron, curious but well-meaning. After everything, he’d learned to trust Luna’s strange but wise ways.

“Chizpurfle defense charm. They’re attracted to magical objects and they chew at them. Especially when there isn’t lots of magical energy around, they can be vicious. We must be a beacon for them right now…”

“Oh yes, I’ve read about those,” Hermione replied as soon as she was finished lifting the girls’ tent with a flick of her wand.

“Sorry I can’t be of any help,” said Neville. “You both are so good at this and I’m so clumsy…”

“Don’t worry mate, this is actually very difficult,” replied Ron as he hammered in the pegs.

“It really is. Seriously, it isn’t your fault, we just got a doctorate in tent-building last year.”

“I wish so badly I could have gone with you guys. I could have helped. Besides, I bet you could have used the company,” said Ginny, looking up towards Hermione from the poles she was assembling.

“You guys barely talk about that time,” added Neville. “I mean, you explained what you discovered, and all the strategic stuff, but I bet it must have been quite horrible, being on your own with so much danger…”

“Well, it did get a bit lonely,” Hermione said after a pause. It was true, they’d barely talked about that time, and it had been taxing for all three of them. But so much had happened since, so much that seemed bigger and scarier and just worse, that it had barely felt worth it. “We missed our families a lot, especially…” Ron walked toward Hermione and put his hand gently on her shoulder. Hermione had spent a long time explaining everything to her parents after their memory spells had been reversed, but they still weren’t the same and she felt guilty, despite knowing it had been the right choice. “It felt awful, being away from you all. We didn’t know whether we’d ever see you again, and it felt… it was just hard to put on a brave face and be logical all the bloody time when sometimes you just wanted to curl into someone’s arms and be held.”

“Well at least that’s over now,” chimed in Harry, quickly, almost too quickly. “No one has to be brave anymore.” He seemed to be lost in thought for a second. “Except for you, Weasley,” he exclaimed then, grabbing a broom from the already finished boys’ tent. “Let’s find a spot with no muggles at the beach so I can kick your arse in a race!”

“Alright, we’ll see about that,” said Ron, grabbing his own broom and getting ready to follow. He and Hermione shared a look and he shrugged. That hadn’t seemed much like Harry, but the black-haired boy was already halfway to the beach and, after all, Ron was never one to turn down a challenge. “Are you guys coming?” Ginny and Neville nodded.

“I’ll stay behind for a bit to finish up these charms,” said Luna, who was busy walking in circles around the  girls’ tent while waving her wand.

“Are you… are you sure that’s necessary?” Asked Ginny.

“You will be thankful when Billywigs aren’t stinging you in your sleep. They can cause grown humans to levitate, did you know?”

“Alright, I suppose it can’t hurt,” said Hermione, who had just emerged from her tent carrying a book.

“Work?” Ron rolled her eyes at her.

“Beach read. ”

“Let’s go then.”

***

They were lying in the sand under the warm sun. All six of them were in their bathing suits but only Luna had been courageous enough to brave the freezing water yet. She was performing a drying spell on her dripping hair when Ron spoke:

“I could lie here all day. Weather’s perfect.”

“Yeah, it’s so peaceful. Quiet too, I thought we’d have to be more careful because of the muggles.” Ginny spoke as she turned to lie on her stomach.

“We picked a great spot,” Harry agreed. “Mary said there’s a castle ruin a few miles from here, we could go at some point.”

He got a mostly enthusiastic response but a groan from Ron: “You can go and come back to pick me up in a week, I’ll still be lying here.”

“No you won’t. You agreed to go check on mum in like…” Ginny sat up and looked at her watch. “Twenty minutes.”

“Is anything the matter?” Asked Luna.

“Nah, we just haven’t left home much since… Since Fred,” explained Ron. “We promised we’d keep in touch. And someone got me to agree to do it the first time.”

“Because someone insisted I carry all the camping equipment.” Ginny’s rebuttal was quick and it got a smile from everyone but Harry whose eyes were fixed on the horizon. He didn’t know how but the war kept slipping into every conversation. It bothered him. No matter how far he went, he never seemed to be able to escape the smothering presence of all he’d lost.

“We really did need a holiday, eh?” He addressed Ron in an effort to steer the conversation away, back towards his best friend’s love of relaxation.

“Yeah we did. I still have no clue what I’m supposed to do now, like… Work? I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up and now I guess… I am grown up. And I still don’t know what I am.”

“Well, you don’t have to be just one thing. No one ever is! You can just try out many fields of work and see which one suits you,” replied Hermione. “I plan to get a few internships in the fall in order to do that. Mostly at different ministry departments, maybe International Magical Cooperation, or the Committee on Experimental Charms…”

“Yeah well, that’s all very well and good when you’ve got loads of paths to pick from,” said Ron, “but I don’t even know where to start.”

This was good, Harry thought. Thinking of the future. Thinking of work. These were problems that everyone dealt with at this age, right? Nothing to do with the war or death. Besides, the idea that there could be a future in itself was more than they’d had for so long. Harry had no clue what he wanted to do with his, but he knew better than to view that choice as a problem.

“I don’t really know if I’m ready to work yet…” Neville said suddenly. He sat up over his towel.

“Well, that’s perfectly understandable too, you could continue your studies if you want. It might actually do us all good, after all, we pretty much skipped our N.E.W.T.S.” Hermione’s face was almost wistful as she mentioned exams.

“Well, sure, but… I don’t mean that. I mean… Every so often I get filled with so much rage. Ever since May it all just… feels so pointless. Even here, right now, with you guys, you’re all talking about feeling so relaxed and I… I haven’t been able to truly be anywhere fully in a long time. Part of me is always reliving it. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to just… jump back in.” Everyone nodded. They knew it was true, and they felt it as well.

“I might travel for a while after my seventh year,” Luna mused. “It’s always been my dream to see a Runespoor in person…”

“Gory,” replied Ron with a smirk. “But I applaud your bravery. And as for you Neville, take all the time you need, mate. We’re all knackered. It’s a wonder we can go about our days at all…”

“Hey, did you know Sirius and Remus were a couple?” Harry exclaimed suddenly. That got everyone’s attention. For a few seconds, nobody spoke.

“Seriously?! Oh my, that makes so much sense!” Hermione was ecstatic, as she usually was when she learned something that helped her crack a puzzle.

“Okay, I am now second-guessing my entire existence,” said Ron. His face was a study in confusion.

“Professor Lupin? Why did I need to know that?” Neville looked utterly flustered.

“They do make one hell of a great-looking couple,” said Ginny with a smirk, and to her delight, Luna nodded at her. But her expression suddenly changed and a few seconds later she added: “did… made… Sorry.”

“How did you even find out about this?” Hermione turned her attention back to Harry. She gasped. “Did Mary tell you?”

“Well… Not exactly. She didn’t say it outright; I suppose she didn’t think it was her story to tell but… The way she talks about them in her letters… She refers to them as a unit. Same way she talks about my parents. I guess it just… made me re-examine some stuff.”

“Of course it did,” said Neville. “When you have limited memories of someone, every new fact you learn about them makes you understand everything in a whole new light. I know how that…”

“Well, yeah, but this isn’t really about that.” Harry’s expression had suddenly turned serious. He didn’t know what had compelled him to share this suspicion with his friends so suddenly, or to state it as if it was fact. He’d been thinking about it a lot since reading Mary’s letters but he’d thought of asking her before telling other people. It felt a bit like a betrayal. What was wrong with him? He was distracted by Ron who was looking at Luna quizzically.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?” He asked her. “I don’t mean to be a prude or anything but… This is huge”

“Oh, I already kind of figured they were together,” said Luna in that singsong, nonchalant way of hers. Five pair of eyes were suddenly upon her.

“How did you know? They never said anything, they never, like, kissed in public! Plus, you barely even saw them together before Sirius…” Harry was worried. Had this been an obvious thing the entire time? Had he never seen these two people properly despite considering them family?

“Love is spoken in many ways. Different people express it differently. Just because someone isn’t speaking your love language doesn’t mean they aren’t saying it.”

“That’s very wise, Luna,” said Hermione smiling.

“What does it even mean?” Asked Ron.

“I saw the way they looked at each other. My parents used to do that. They weren’t ones for words but love was in their every touch and stare. And when they moved they seemed like pieces of a single body. That’s how Sirius and Remus were that night at the ministry, and I didn’t know them before then so I just assumed it was a thing the rest of you knew. When Sirius passed through the veil, I saw Remus’s face change. He went with him.”

“I’m going in the sea, who’s coming?” Harry was suddenly up, his body coursing with energy. He practically ran into the water without waiting for an answer.

Chapter 2

Harry had lit the fire using magic, but he was still building up the flame the muggle way. They’d split up in order to get dinner and take turns showering at the camp facilities. They were nowhere near as nice as the bathrooms at Hogwarts but a few charms had helped make them warmer. Now, they sat roasting marshmallows in the fire as they listened to music on Hermione’s Discman. She’d charmed her CDs so they could each hold dozens of albums and so that they could play songs in multiple random orders She could also use her wand to control the volume from afar. The only problem was, Hermione hated current music. Even after all these years, she was still a bit of a snob when it came to art, preferring obscure bands from ten or twenty years before. As a result, they’d been listening to a lot of Bowie since they’d arrived.

“…And then, my grandma told me I wasn’t allowed any pets until I was 18, except for something truly harmless. And even Trevor I ended up losing at the lake eventually.” Neville was telling the story of how he’d ended up with a toad, a rather unusual pet even for a Hogwarts student.

“Yeah, well, at least your harmless pet did not turn out to be an escaped murderer!” Said Ron, who had still never quite gotten over the shock of Scabbers’s true identity. As usual, he got a laugh from everyone. However, Harry couldn’t help but notice that even these conversations were always restrained. He could not remember the last time he’d laughed to tears, laughed truly, even at one of Ron’s comments. Still, his friend had the ability to cheer people up, even in the darkest of times.

“Hey, you could ask George if he needs help at the shop, you know?” He said to him. “I bet you could be really good at that. Coming up with artifacts, selling to customers especially…”

“Yeah, mate, maybe I’ll try that…” Ron was deep in thought for a few seconds. “George hasn’t really been the same since he lost Fred. Perhaps he could use that.” And just like that, Harry thought, he’d burst the bubble. Again.

“I’m having the best time,” said Hermione, who’d been listening attentively to one of Luna’s stories. “I think we all really needed this, thanks for forcing me to come.”

“Anytime,” Ginny winked at her.

“Always a pleasure to bicker with you about anything,” said Ron.

“Seriously though, I really love you lot. I don’t know that I tell you that enough.” Hermione put one arm around Harry and another around Ginny, both sitting beside her.

“Yeah, me too,” added the redhead. “I’m so grateful we’re all still together. You’ve made everything seem… I don’t know, worth it.”

Harry was about to say something about the marshmallows definitely being worth it when he saw that Luna’s eyes were watery.

“What’s wrong?” Asked Neville.

“I just… I love you guys so much,” Luna said as tears fell down her cheek. “When I was held at Malfoy Manor last year and my father… He was so selfish. I thought that you would never forgive me. And I’d never had any real friends before I met you all and I was already resigned to losing you… I was grateful that at least I’d known what it felt like, you know? To be a part of something truly special…” Hermione leaned over Ginny and squeezed her hand. “And yet you guys did forgive me,” Luna continued, “and you kept me around after the battle was over; you made me feel like I hadn’t just been useful, like I was…” She trailed off as Ginny enveloped her in a hug.

“Luna, you’re always going to have us at your side,” Neville reassured her. “Everything that happened… It forged a bond you cannot break. It’ll always keep us together.”

“I just wish it didn’t seem like the only thing keeping us together…” Harry hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the moment he did, he felt strangely lighter. However, this relief didn’t last long.

“What did you just say?” Ginny asked, suddenly looking away from Luna and towards her boyfriend with a stern expression.

“I said,” Harry raised his voice a bit, emboldened, “that it would be really bloody great if you all could stop talking about the war for a minute. The whole point of this trip was to have fun and be normal, just like people were before the war! Can’t we have one single conversation that isn’t about how awful it all is?!”

“No, we can’t, you nitwit!” Ginny yelled. “You’ve been acting like a prat and ignoring people’s feelings all day, but in case you haven’t noticed, things have been awful! I lost a brother! And I miss him so much, I…” Ginny’s voice broke and she stopped talking.

“I know you do,” said Harry regretfully. “I just thought if we could all leave we’d…”

“Running won’t fix things. It never does. Sometimes you just have to keep living right next to the bad.” And with that, Ginny stood up. “Come on, Luna, let’s get you a glass of water,” she said to her friend, who was still crying softly.

“I’ll… uuuh… I’ll go with you!” Neville practically leapt out of his seat and the three of them began to walk quickly towards the camp facilities.

Harry sighed. Just like that, it was him, Ron and Hermione left, just like it had been a year ago. Actually, it had been less than a full year, but it still felt like a lifetime. More than Harry had ever wanted to spend in the presence of so much sorrow.

“So I screwed that up,” he said as Ron moved over to sit next to him and Hermione.

“You kind of did, not going to lie…” Said Ron. “But I get where you’re coming from. Honestly, I needed a break from my house too. It’s why I wanted to come so bad.”

Harry nodded. He’d never realized, but it must have been taking a toll on Ron to keep being so cheerful and sarcastic while he himself was dealing with so much. Harry supposed it was his way of deflecting things. At least Ron’s way made people feel better, he thought, as opposed to his.

“Look,” said Hermione, putting an arm around him. “Healing takes time. You can’t expect people to act normally after what happened and you shouldn’t expect that of yourself either. It’s okay if it’s all we can talk about for a bit. Merlin knows it’s enough to fill plenty of history books, it needs processing.”

“I’ve just lost so much time to… processing,” Harry said. “I’m turning eighteen soon, you guys already have. And yet I can count on one hand the adventures we’ve had together that didn’t somehow involve solving some mystery or fighting some evil threat. And…” He sighed. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mary’s letters, all the anecdotes she’d shared about his parents and their friends. “I guess I just want a bit of normal life, you know? And even now that everything’s supposed to be over, even though this whole thing was meant to give us all a chance to live happily… I’m not sure we’ll ever get there.”

“I know we will, mate,” said Ron. “I mean, my parents did, after the first war. Mum lost both her brothers and she still had enough faith to raise all of us. She knew things could be better. They all did.”

“Mary didn’t,” replied Harry. He hadn’t known he was thinking about it until he said it. But it was true. In the end, perhaps, she had made the right choice. Going away. Forgetting that it all even existed. Getting married and having a kid and living a normal, happy, uneventful life.

“But we proved her wrong, didn’t we?” Hermione interjected. “I mean, she wrote to you because she was impressed. Because she was proud and she believed in what you did. And I promise you it will have been worth it. You’ll see.”

Harry nodded. He knew that everything they’d done had been important. He’d seen how much of a difference it had made to thousands of people. He just hadn’t ever been so conscious of what it had cost him before: “Do you think we’ll ever get to just be regular teenagers?” He asked Hermione.

She was silent for a few moments, clearly wanting to give Harry an answer that she truly believed in, instead of some bland reassurance. After a while, she spoke: “Honestly? I have no idea. We still are a little bit broken…”

“Yeah, some of us especially,” chimed in Ron, glancing sideways at Hermione. She elbowed him and he shrugged, as if to say “I’ve earned that”. Hermione laughed. “You see?” She looked at Harry. “There you go. We’ve still got a long way to go until we reach normal. But in the meantime, we still deserve a bit of fun”.

Harry didn’t know how, but Hermione’s words were always just right, like they were the echo of something he’d always known. He hugged both of his friends.

“I’ll apologize to the others in a bit. I think I’d better take a walk and gather my thoughts first,” he told them, as he headed towards the beach.

Chapter 3

The sound of the waves was deafening as Ginny walked out onto the beach. She spotted Harry but didn’t quicken her pace. Instead, she watched him think for a few moments longer. She knew why he’d picked this place to cool off. The noise. It would be a long time before Harry could stand the quiet again.

“Sorry I snapped,” she said when she finally reached him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Back at you,” he replied. They stood like this for a few moments. Ginny waited. She felt the words building up inside him. Of course, she was right. Eventually Harry spoke: “I just didn’t know I felt like that. Not until Mary.”

“You speak a lot about her letters,” Ginny nodded. “You clearly needed them.”

“I did. You see, everybody talks so much about how my parents died. I know all about how brave they were fighting against Voldemort, and how much they had to sacrifice during the last few months of their lives… I know everything about how they died. And I’m grateful for it; it’s obviously better than knowing nothing… But until recently I barely knew anything about how they lived. What kind of students they’d been at Hogwarts, what kind of friends. What subjects they’d liked or been good at, what foods they loved the most at the Great Hall. What they fought about, how they became friends with all these people, what all of the Marauders’ pranks were like… Mary made me realize that. And once I did, it was impossible not to notice the same thing happening to us. We’ve lost so much time already. So much of our lives has been about this bloody war, and I don’t want it to be the only story we can tell about our teenage years. Already it feels like I’ll never be able to outlive it publicly and so with my friends I just want… I don’t know. I guess if this is what we are remembered by, if this is how we remember ourselves and our loved ones, just for what we lost, it’s a kind of victory for him.”

Ginny sighed. “I know. And I agree with you. We deserve time to be teenagers. We deserve to talk about silly things and have silly competitions and listen to happy music that isn’t Hermione’s melancholy crap,” she took Harry’s hand between hers, “and we deserve time to figure out what this is without any pressure. But that’s the thing: We can do that. Your parents didn’t have that luxury. They had to cram as much life as they could into very little time and figure out how to be kids and teenagers and grownups all at once, am I right?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I keep wondering how on earth they were ready to be married at our age.”

“See, that’s the thing, they probably weren’t. But they had to. We don’t. We’ve earned our right to take things slowly, we have all the time in the world. But we cannot skip the grieving part. As much as we all want to forget that all of this ever happened because it hurts like hell to know it did, trust, me, the only way out is through. Otherwise you end up living with a lot of ghosts…”

“You’re right.” Harry put his arms around her. He knew exactly what Ginny meant. And he knew he didn’t want that. Because despite everything, possibly even because of it, he felt like the future held good things in store for them. “I’m really sorry, Ginny,” he whispered. “For everything you’ve lost.”

“Me too. And I don’t think you’re told that nearly enough.”

***

After a while they began to walk hand in hand back towards the camping site.

As they got closer, they realized the fire was still lit, and there was a lone figure sitting beside it. They thought it might be Luna, still up performing more charms of protection against various magical creatures, but when they arrived they saw it was actually Neville. He was all but falling asleep while sitting down, shaking himself awake every few seconds and then immediately beginning to close his eyes again. Hermione’s Discman was still on, playing another Bowie song, but Hermione herself was nowhere to be seen. Very unlike her, Harry thought, to forget something out in the open. He turned towards his half-awake friend.

“Hiya Neville, what’s up?” He nudged him awake. “Really sorry about before, by the way, I was a proper arse. If you ever need to talk…”

“Okay, sure, I’m just really tired right now…” Neville said, his eyes already beginning to close again, his head falling.

“Why won’t you go to bed then?” asked Harry, pointing to the tent.

“Well, I want to, and Luna’s already gone in her tent but I… The boy’s tent is… I can’t go because you see…” Neville smirked and pointed awkwardly in its general direction. The tent was still and quiet. Too quiet. It only took Harry a few seconds to realize that numerous silencing charms had been placed upon it.

“Wait, is Hermione in there with Ron?!” Asked Ginny, eyeing Neville conspiratorially.

“Uuuuh yeah they are… They’re in there doing… I can’t get in because they’re both in there being…” Neville’s face looked Gryffindor red and he could not stop fidgeting with his hands. “They’re doing…”

“They’re having hot sex, that’s what you mean to say” Ginny cut him off with a deadpan expression. Harry snorted. And just like that, something in him broke. He began to laugh. He laughed so hard he almost felt tearful and Ginny joined him. Neville made a noise somewhere between a gag and a cry for mercy as they both fell down to the floor in hysterics and within a few seconds he had started giggling nervously as well.

They stayed that way until Hermione came out of the tent in tiptoes and almost had a fit upon seeing them all outside. They just stayed and kept laughing. Just a group of teenagers with so much love for each other, at once idiotic and wise beyond their years, laughing about sex and making fun of each other at a time when it seemed impossible that anything could be fun. And although Harry didn’t know this (because, despite her usual style, Mary had taken care not to be that explicit in her letters), this was exactly what it had been like twenty years before.

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