#and the problem is that because the stupid show Kind Of Forgot about the prophecies and shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obiwanobi · 4 years

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In the Sith Senator au, I imagine that sheev introduces them either at a dinner party or maybe at a gala? anakin is in his robes as always and obiwan is super dressed up because he's a respectable senator thank you very much and he calls anakin darling and sweet thing and stuff like that and within an hour he has anakin wrapped around his finger

Okay, so WHY NOT BOTH? The last long post about this AU was painful, so have some “hate at first sight” and “0.2 sec for Obi-Wan to fix it and learn that banter and endearments can turn Anakin into a very charming mess”

The first time they met, Obi-Wan has just been elected Senator after working in politics on Stewjon for years, making enough important friends and empty promises to be re-elected even without showing his face on Stewjon until the next decade. It’s his first month back on Coruscant, close to Sidious after years on his own. He needs to show him that his presence here, so close to his Master, is right, and can only benefit their plans. Even when everything isn’t… great.

The committee of small planets of the mid rim is pestering him to join their sad little club of useless dustballs, he has dozens of demands of various needy mayors, dignitaries and even ministers from Stewjon to reply to, the Senate security staff are a bunch of lazy bastards who still haven’t given him his pass and badge to enter and exit the building whenever he wants to and keep pretending not to recognize him even though they force him to go through a full security check every morning, and he can’t find a decent assistant to hire.

You could say that Senator Kenobi is a bit on edge.

He really, really doesn’t need to be late to his first real, private meeting with Sidious, especially because his only excuse is ‘I forgot how busy traffic was on Coruscant in the morning, don’t blame me I’m used to the countryside and seeing more sheep than ships on my way to work”. That would probably not go too well.

Looking at his chrono every twenty seconds, he doesn’t pay enough attention to where he’s going and doesn’t notice the man turning at a corner on his side, running fast enough to come crashing against him without having the chance to do anything about it.

One second, a sharp cry, a flurry of dark robes and a cup of tea flying, and they’re both on the ground.

Obi-Wan isn’t pleased. You could say he’s even a bit exasperated, lying on his back, a stranger’s elbow digging in his stomach. And then he turns his head to see who’s stupid enough to run in the Senate’s corridors on a Monday morning and almost curses out loud when he recognises Jedi robes and a stupid Padawan’s braid.

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s used to suppressing his Force-presence so no one can feel him and he’s not going to make a scene to attract more attention. He’s going to inhale and exhale slowly, accept the deepest of apologies from the stupid Jedi with a benevolent smile, repress his need to do something harsh, and be on his way.

But then the Padawan groans, rubs his head and asks reproachfully why Obi-Wan didn’t watch where he was going.

It’s eight am, half of his (expensive and only sold on Stewjon) tea on the floor, and Obi-Wan already wants to strangle a Jedi.

So, there is a shouting match.

Words like “pathetic life form” and “karking useless politician” are thrown, and it takes almost half a minute for Obi-Wan to realise that he’s arguing with a dumb teenager and that they’re still on the floor, half on top of each other. He, very politely, asks the Padawan to get the kriff up, doesn’t take the time to even look at the remains of his cup of tea after salvaging his wet datapad from the puddle on the ground, and leaves with one last silent death glare.

“You’re not even going to clean that?” the Padawan yells in his back, sounding revolted.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. What are droids for these days?

“You’re late,” Palpatine says flatly the instant the door of his office closes behind Obi-Wan. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Call me Chancellor for now. I want you to meet someone and he should be here soon. He could become important, maybe even crucial for our plans.”

“Oh? Another Senator or representative to charm?”

“Even better,” Palpatine smiles. And that’s what gets Obi-Wan interested. He knows this is the reason he’s here and the reason Sidious wants him in the Senate. Obi-Wan is a smooth talker, a nice face and a warm smile all in one. Someone who, with enough time and efforts, could make anyone believes in anything.

Palpatine always said that he was made for politics.

“He could be a decisive piece in this game. It will take a lot of careful manipulation and dedication to bring him to our side and I don’t have this kind of time to waste, so you’ll do. With enough care and patience, I think he could be the most loyal and useful… support, we could have.”

“Who is he? What do you want me to say and how far am I allowed to go?”

A knock at the door interrupts them. “For now,” Palpatine says in a low voice, sitting behind his desk, joining his hands together above it, the picture of old and trusted wisdom, “I just need you to make him like you.”

That’s not going to be a problem, Obi-Wan thinks, as the doors open. He straightens up, gets ready to put on his most radiant smile and displays an inviting openness and friendliness that few can resist.

The Padawan enters.

This is going to be a problem.

“Ah! My favourite Jedi!” Sidious exclaims loud enough to be heard over the music and raising his cocktail above their heads. Anakin Skywalker smiles as he sees him, and dutifully comes closer. The Chancellor makes a point of clapping his hand twice on his shoulder once Skywalker is in front of him, and leaves it there as he introduces him to his new chief of staff. If anyone is wondering what a Padawan is doing at a Senate party that should only include political staffers and a few dignitaries, no one breaths a word of it.

It gives Obi-Wan time to gauge, assess and appraise Skywalker, his reactions, body language, and anything he can learn from a simple conversation between Sidious and him. It would be his turn to do it soon. Relieve me from the burden of having to stroke the boy’s ego regularly so I can take care of more pressing issues, his master had snarled disdainfully. Right now, he’s playing the part of the dotting and proud fatherly figure to perfection, Obi-Wan has to give him that.

Attention, approval and respect, Sidious had told me. That’s all you need to be in Skywalker’s good graces. The boy will soak every bit of kindness you can spare, as long as he considers you someone worth his own devotion.

It didn’t stop Obi-Wan from learning absolutely everything he could about him, from his lightsaber technique to his favourite food because Obi-Wan is and will always be a very thorough man who doesn’t rely on luck or unprecise sciences like basic psychology. Especially from his Master, who probably never encountered an emotion or feeling he couldn’t twist to fuel his ambition.

Admittedly, Obi-Wan doesn’t share his Master enthusiasm for charming the brat and make him fall. He’s all for turning him against the Jedi, sure, that he can get behind and happily endorse, but having to deal with a moody teenager on a regular basis for the foreseeable future? It would be painful for everyone. Especially for Obi-Wan’s nerves.

Anakin Skywalker, reckless, volatile and troublesome former slave and actual Padawan, wasn’t the type of Sith candidate Obi-Wan would have chosen. Not at all. Too many variables, too many chances to go wrong, a wild card that he would never risk.

But Sidious is adamant. Doesn’t care for any of his arguments. He wants Skywalker, and Obi-Wan has started to realise why when he learnt all about the prophecy. Stealing the Jedi Chosen One and turning him against them in a last-second betrayal was the kind of symbolic irony Sidious loved and would gloat about for years to come. And when Sidious decides that he needs something, there is no going back.

But this time, Obi-Wan has to do all the hard work himself. He calculates that getting close to Skywalker, especially after their more than tense official introduction, is going to take months, maybe even (and Obi-Wan shudders at the thought) a year. Trapped at playing nice with an overgrown child who hates being told no and likes to think he’s above the rules. For no direct and personal benefit but the approval of his own Master.

Obi-Wan really, really hates it.

But that’s not going to stop him from completing his mission perfectly, as he has always done.

“I’m glad to see you, Chancellor,” Skywalker says softly, his quiet tone already at odd with what Obi-Wan expected. He grew taller than the last he saw him, and Obi-Wan hates it. His braid is a bit longer and his robes are a shade darker than a few months ago. Something passes in his eyes when the Padawan notices Obi-Wan’s presence next to the Chancellor and his head snaps up defiantly. “Senator Kenobi,” he grits out like the words pain him.

Obi-Wan needs to change this right now before Sidious deems him inapt for this mission.

He hates this a bit more.

The opportunity is given quicker than he thought when Sidious excuses himself and leaves their little group to mingle with other demanding sycophants. Obi-Wan gets stuck with Skywalker, Sidious’ chief of state who’s apparently only here for the free drinks, and Keneg, the senator of… Corulag? Barl’leth? One of those rich Core planets that hate anyone who isn’t them but need to be kept around for their credits, who always seems to suck years of his life every time Obi-Wan is forced to speak to him. It takes thirty seconds for all of them to grow bored of Keneg incessant complaints about how the lower levels of his planet are “ruining its reputation” and that the problem resides in their too lenient immigration policy, especially concerning poor and uneducated races.

Skywalker’s face is a journey. At least twelve different emotions play through his eyes, the twists of his mouth and raised eyebrows like a theatre actor in a dramatic scene at each careless word coming out of the Senator’s mouth, and Obi-Wan wonders if anyone has ever told him that Jedi are supposed to be masters of their own emotions first and foremost. Especially around politicians.

But it doesn’t matter right now, because that’s the opening he was waiting for.

“Excuse me Senator Keneg,” He cuts him off politely before another endless tirade. “I’m afraid I have to go, I see the Senator of Botor and I’ve been trying to talk to him for months. Surely you understand. Padawan Skywalker, may I ask for your assistance? We could use some Jedi wisdom in our debate, if you don’t mind.”

Skywalker looks torn between being relieved to be offered an out from an awful conversation, but also have no desire to spend more time with Obi-Wan.

“Sure,” he ends up mumbling, apparently judging that he was the lesser of two evils.

“Wonderful.” Obi-Wan doesn’t pay any attention to the betrayed look Sidious’ chief of state sends him after being left alone with Keneg.

“So,” Skywalker says, resigned, following Obi-Wan who’s making a beeline for the bar. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The senator of Botor? And what’s your deal with him?”

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Obi-Wan replies, trying to ignore the casual tone Skywalker shouldn’t take with a Senator, even one he dislikes.

“What? Then why did you ask me to come with you?”

“Aren’t you relieved that I saved you from dreadful hours of xenophobic discussions about how poor people should be banned from showing their face in public because it doesn’t please Senator Keneg?”

“You didn’t save me,” Skywalker grimaces, but still seats beside him. “Is it… Is it always like that? I mean, I know Core worlds politicians can be a little…”

Obi-Wan weighs his options, and decides that Skywalker would probably appreciate truth more than carefully chosen words and subtle hypocrisy. Pretending to be the last nice man in politics is out of the question with the way they met, so Obi-Wan opts for sincerity.

To a degree.

“Snobbish? Disconnected from reality? Shameless bastards with no souls?” Obi-Wan says while signalling the bartender for Trandoshan ale and a cocktail.

“Well, yes.”

“Welcome to politics.”

Skywalker opens his mouth like he’s going to protest. He puts his hands in his sleeves, probably hoping to pass for a wise Jedi Master, but his pouty lips and frowned eyebrows make him look like a sulking youngling. “You’re part of it, you know. You can talk about it like you’re not one of them, but I remember you insulting me and leaving without caring about your tea and cup all over the floor.”

What a brat.

“My tea- My dear, do I have to remind you that you barreled into me at full stupid and made me spill my tea everywhere? Some Senators would have made a diplomatic incident out of it,” he huffs, a bit more irritable than he wanted to.

“You said I was a brainless child!”

“Because you ar—” Their drinks arrive at that moment, and it gives Obi-Wan precious seconds to compose himself.

This isn’t how he’s supposed to play it. He didn’t expect Skywalker to be this whiny and petulant, despite Sidious’ warning, and was planning on letting him think he was the one in control of the situation. He’s supposed to be a Jedi for Force sake, not someone who can’t control their tongue and get into pointless fights with politicians!

No, no. Grin and bear it. Obi-Wan should recall the last remnant of Jedi philosophy still in him.

“Padawan Skywalker, I’m sorry if my words offended you,” Obi-Wan says with the voice he normally uses for debates where he wants to appear as the most sincere and reasonable party. He holds a glass of ale to Skywalker, as a peace offering. “I admit I wasn’t in the most pleasant of disposition at that time, and I may have been harsher than I realised. I hope you can forgive me.”

This seems to mollify Skywalker a bit. He doesn’t look like he’s going to forget it, but does take the offered glass. “At least the Chancellor is different,” he sighs and Obi-Wan represses the urge to burst into laughter.

Oh, Skywalker is truly the most naïve boy around. Perhaps twisting his mind will turn out to be fun.

“Wait,” Obi-Wan exclaims suddenly as the Padawan holds the glass to his lips, “are you even old enough to drink?”

“Oh come on, I’m 19! I can handle a beer and I’m a Jedi, don’t forget,” he brags, like being Force-sensitive changes anything about his (probably low) alcohol tolerance. To be fair, a regular politician wouldn’t know anything about what the Force could and couldn’t do. Skywalker’s probably relying on lack of awareness about the magic and mysterious abilities of the Jedi to get away with it. It’s almost endearing.

“I don’t know, Padawan, you did look like an adorable sulking youngling just a minute ago.”

“Ador- I’m not adorable!” He yelps as his cheeks turn into an interesting shade of pink.

“But you don’t deny the youngling comment,” Obi-Wan teases good-naturedly between two sips of his cocktail. He can’t help it: It is way more intriguing to follow the colours on his face spreading to his neck than being on the receiving end of his frowns and accusing words.

Unduly flustered for such an innocent comment, Skywalker stutters a few syllables, huffs, and narrows his eyes at his glass, Obi-Wan’s playful smile, and his glass again. He downs the whole thing with his head thrown back before Obi-Wan can say anything, surprised by the sudden motion and too busy watching his throat moving until the empty glass is back on the table with a resounding clank. Still wiping his mouth, he calls the bartender and asks for another. Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the ‘don’t you dare stop me’ glare.

This isn’t how he imagined befriending him, but Skywalker is still seating next to him and getting into a rant about how he’s a capable man, thank you very much, and yesterday his Master even said so, well, not in these words, but he’s not a youngling, and absolutely not adorable, he’s a warrior, a protector, but he doesn’t suppose a politician can understand, and if Obi-Wan wants to know, his sabre technique is exceptional, really, it is!

His whole speech is supported by hands flying around to illustrate his words and mouthfuls of ale, because he is a man and not a kid, remember that, Senator Kenobi. It doesn’t prevent him from flushing a bit deeper and spluttering even more when Obi-Wan, listening attentively with a smile on his face, throws an indulgent of course you are, darling.

Skywalker turns his face away from him, desperate to hide his embarrassment, and orders another ale.

Adorable.

Obi-Wan can work with that.

Hours later, once Skywalker is happily sloshed and dangerously leaning toward crashing against his shoulder, Obi-Wan calls him a hover cab.

“Thanks, Senator Kenobi!” Skywalker exclaims as he climbs into the cab, like Obi-Wan is now his favourite person to be around. His cheerful and warm demeanour has stopped being surprising after his second ale. “You’re not as awful as I thought!”

Obi-Wan can’t help it, he laughs, truly laughs at that. It’s probably the most sincere compliment he’s gotten since he arrived at the Senate. “I’m glad you consider me a slightly better man than Senator Keneg,” he says, leaning forward toward Skywalker, hands on the cab.

Skywaker grins and raises an eyebrow at him. “And more handsome too!”

For once, it’s Obi-Wan who must look baffled. Despite his careful planning, all his diverse estimations and assessments about the different ways he could charm Skywalker, he didn’t consider actually seducing him. That’s… a whole new point of view.

Interrupting his thoughts, Skywalker yawns and starts hugging his robe around himself, smiling contently like he’s in the best place in the galaxy, barely trying to blink away sleep from his eyes. Adorable.

On an impulse, Obi-Wan leans closer to him and tugs on his braid. The reaction is worth it: Skywalker makes a small surprised noise, eyes suddenly wide, and the slight flush on his cheeks worsen in an instant.

Obi-Wan almost considers touching his face, just to see how warm his skin is. And maybe even brushing his parted lips with his thumb, just to see how warm it can still get.

But Obi-Wan feels merciful.

For tonight.

“Sleep well, Padawan,” he purrs, winding the thin braid around his finger one last time. Skywalker looks like he’s going to melt.

Obi-Wan can work with that too.

Two months later, Sidious tells him that he’s going to be the victim of an assassination attempt right before the Military Act vote. It would be acceptable for the Chancellor to be concerned about the protection and security of all Senators, of course, so he will push for Jedi protection and is certain to convince the Council to send one particular Padawan as a bodyguard.

Obi-Wan doesn’t hate the idea.

#these two asks were in my inbox for like... 2 months #I'm very slow but I don't forget!#sith senator kenobi au #anon #asks #obikin

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every1studio · 4 years

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REQUESTED: “ateez x greek gods” [ateez]

genre: misc. + GREEK GOD ! AU (reincarnation version) + fem reader

ficstyle: bulletpoints + reactions

requested by @svteencarat : “ Hi! I was wondering if you still take request? If you are still doing requests, then could I ask for a greek god! ateez and a human! fem reader angst (Of course i'd like it if you can make me cry, UwU) nd that if the oneshot could have a fluff ending? Thanks! This isi my first request ever so i don't really know how to since I'm kinda new to tumblr?? (I'm literary requested this from alot of kpop au writers out there because I never see any Greek god aus, and I JUST. NEED. MORE. GREEK GOD AUS!!) “

note: I’m kinda depressed about my WayV fic so I’m shifting my attention back to ATEEZ before I get any motivation to continue that series ): + I didn’t have a lot of ideas for angst because I didn’t want them to be too long but I hope this is good?? + information from: Meet the Greek Gods & Greek Gods and Goddesses

HONGJOONG X APOLLO

reincarnation of: APOLLO (god of music, poetry, prophecy, and medicine; later known as the god of sun)

in every lifetime, there is a reincarnation of APOLLO in the Kim family

Hongjoong was the present-day god of sun; there was a lot of pressure that was placed on his shoulders because of it

but even through all the stress, he still couldn’t ignore the passion he had for music or for poetry

or the unquenchable desire for more knowledge

or the love he has for the sun rays peeping through the day clouds

he’s known to be the “doctor” of his friend group because no matter what problem they have medically, emotionally or physically, he’s able to help them and succeed

Hongjoong still has the lyre that was passed down to him from his ancestors

it’s an unusual instrument to play nowadays but that’s probably what made him stand out at the arts and music festival that held place at the college square

the guy’s performance was a self-composed piece and he somehow altered the lyre to make it an electric instrument; a stryre

you were working as the sounds person; so you had the honors of listening to his whole performance with no disturbance

and it didn’t help that he was so handsome

if you didn’t know any better, you thought he was a Greek god

little did you know

you didn’t think anything of it after his performance until you felt a tap on your shoulders

“hey can you tell me what kind of amps you use for the show today? they were really compatible with my stryre!”

your eyes were met with his

“oh yeah.. um.. I used my own amps for the show today, which is why everyone who had to perform had to sign a waiver.. but they’re Goldmund Telos 5000.. my uncle offered them to me for a lower price...”

the boy grabbed both your hands in excitement, “oh you know about music? are you a music major too? what’s your major?

the way he radiated, it was like you were in the presence of the sun

how could someone emit such energy?

“nothing fancy.. I’m in music technology-”

“you’re the T.A. for Dr. Trumbridge!”

“you know me?” you were surprised that he knew you, then again you are the only T.A. for the most strict professor in the university

“yeah.. you graded my paper for composition of electric instruments... you gave me a lot of feedback and I really appreciate it..”

Hongjoong had to take that class because it was a requirement for his major in music composition

but he began to like it

why?

because you were there

at first he thought you were quiet yet snobby T.A. for a strict teacher

then he received the first paper you graded for him

there was so much care and incredible feedback; it was like he could see the true you through your grading

after that paper, he couldn’t help but notice every little thing about you

he slowly began to fall for you; his own version of Aphrodite

his voice was so soothing, you forgot where you were and what you were doing for a moment

“of course.. hey, um.. I have to get back to work, the next performance is in 5 minutes...”

you let your hands slip away from his grasp when you realized how long you two were there, just holding hands

“oh yeah sorry...I’ll let you get to that then...”

you nodded before turning away

“Y/N!”

you turned to hear him call your name, “are you free after the performances? I know the food courts are gonna be open until 1AM...so you wanna.. grab a bite?”

how could you say no to that sunny smile, “yeah sure.. uh here’s my phone number.. send me a text or something.. I’ll see you later..umm..”

“I’m Hongjoong.. go on, I’ll see you later!” he repeats

when you had time, you checked your phone for any messages

there was only a voicemail; you held it up to your ear

“hey Y/N, it’s Hongjoong.. I don’t know what you like to eat.. but I hope you like Greek food?”

SEONGHWA X EROS

reincarnation of: EROS (god of love)

Seonghwa always help this friends with their love life

but it had it’s drawbacks

being as good looking as him; the girls would be more interested in him than his friends

which caused riffs in his friendships

in the end, he didn’t have any friends

as the reincarnation of the epitome of love himself, he couldn’t help but excrete pheromones and he used that to his advantage

he began to have an addiction with fake love; one night stands, hookups, leading girls on,

any sorts of a short-term romance

anything for to not feel lonely anymore

but that wasn’t enough

the void in his heart grew larger and larger, to the point where anything he tried to fill it with just fell through into an abyss

Seonghwa was just leaving the cafe; dripping wet because he didn’t want to meet up with one of his hookups anymore and she tossed water in his face

which made him even more hot BUT ANYWAYS

you were in an irritated mood

you just quit your job because your stupid boss won’t advocate for fair pay for the hardworking females in your workplace

so you stormed into the cafe and tried to calm yourself down

there was a commotion in the cafe but you were too busy getting your order of iced latte

something about no one will ever be good enough to satisfy someone, followed by the sound of splashing water; then something about being rich and handsome will only get him so far

on your way out, you bump your whole order onto a man that already seemed like he was soaked with water

at first glance, he seemed like a puppy someone left in the rain

but the more you looked at him, the more entranced you were by his visuals

you didn’t let your thoughts diverge you from dumping your whole cup of latte on him

“sir? are you okay? excuse me, can I get some napkins?” you took some napkins from the worker and dabbed where ever you could and where ever wouldn’t get you arrested

the guy looked at you with his empty eyes

why are you helping him?

a hopeless guy like him?

a sick-minded disappointment of the god of love?

“it’s okay.. I deserve it..” he gently pushed your helping hands away

you furrowed your brows at him and sternly told him, “look, mister.. I don’t know what you did for you to “deserve” this but I’m just apologizing for the coffee okay?”

he was kind of taken back by the sudden sassiness and let you continue to wipe it off

“what’d you do to get in this mess anyways, handsome?” you murmured as you offered him napkins to dry his hair

“a girl I was fwb with wanted to take it further but I told her that’s not for me... plus I have some other fwbs I don’t want to let go off...”

he seemed kind of embarrassed afterwards, it sounded better in his head

“oookay.. maybe you did deserve it..” you rolled your eyes in a joking manner and wiped your hands clean

you seemed different than all the other girls; sassy and quirky, independent and was probably not the type to fall in love at first sight

“now that my business is over, I’m gonna order another latte-”

“let me!” Seonghwa said kind of loud, which caused you and some of the other people in the cafe to whip their heads towards him, “let me.. get it for you.. I mean it’s my fault you have to get another cup anyways..”

“so I can be another fwb? no thanks.. that’s not my type of relationship..”

you took his silence for feeling shameful and felt bad, “that offer was really sweet but I’m sure I can get a free cup since everyone saw what happen..”

you grabbed the readied cup of latte and smiled at him, “I’m sure you’re not a bad person... but maybe you should think twice about being in a relationship.. any relationship. it takes two to tango.. remember that, ciao~”

and with that you left the cafe

leaving Seonghwa collecting puddles and thoughts about the new side of love he’s never seen or experienced before

the next day, you got a job interview with one of the most well-known companies in the whole world

you couldn’t afford to mess it up

you entered the elevator and hit the button of the highest level of the building

people came and left the elevator but someone REALLY caught your eyes

it was the sad “puppy left in the rain” fuckboy; in a suit

“what a coincidence, boy wonder. you work here?”

he was fixing his tie, he gave you a small smile, “you could say that..”

you nudged him in the side; which caught him off-guard because he was ticklish

“you’re working for one of the best companies with some of the best working condition, you should be more proud of your position!”

your floor dings and you adjust your lanyard, “how do I look?”

your question flustered Seonghwa, “g-great.. go-good.. beautiful..”

that last part was mumbled but you heard it

“oh.. thank you.. well gonna go to ace my interview, maybe we’ll be cube buddies or something.. wish me luck~”

you trotted down the hall towards the room the interview was held in; you sat for your turn, you couldn’t stop fidgeting from adrenaline

“Ms. Y/N? we’re ready for you~” an older lady shot you a reassuring smile

you took one last deep breath before walking in the room

you thought you were prepared for this interview..

UNTIL YOU SAW BOY WONDER, MR. HANDSOME FACE AKA THE SAD “PUPPY LEFT OUT IN THE RAIN” FUCKBOY

SITTING IN FRONT OF THE PLAQUE THAT SAYS CEO

oh what a time to be alive

“so, Ms. Y/N, shall we beginning?” Seonghwa smirked as he opened your portfolio

YUNHO X TYCHE

reincarnation of: TYCHE (goddess of chance, fate and fortune)

Yunho was bored with his life; he was bored with his riches

this was the consequence of his luck

sure; he always won all the games at the casino, got the winning ticket to the lottery, anything that had zero to no chance of winning? he won them

he won them all

it was always like this; ever since he was little

it made him kind of depressed

he would get himself in every life-threatening situations but by a stroke of miracle, he would be saved by the bell

people only wanted to be around him because he would bring luck to everyone around him

so he holed himself up in his house; his very big and very empty house

because he was sick of being used, sick of winning, sick of being lucky

the doorbell rung; he checked his door security camera

it was probably his food he ordered

surprised to see someone still waiting there with his food

he scurried downstairs and swung the door open

there you were, frowning at him, “Mr. Yunho? I don’t mean to be rude or out of line, but you’ve been ordering nothing but the unhealthiest options from our place.. I’m worried about your health, SO I included some healthy options.. it’s not included in your payment... HAVE A GOOD DAY!”

you hoped that he wouldn’t think too much about your kind offer

but Yunho places his big, firm hand on your shoulder, slightly tugging you back

“why are you worried about my health? what do you want from me??”

you turned to him meekly, “I’m NOT stalking you! it’s just that... you’re always ordering from us, at least 4 days out of 7.. and you always order the MOST unhealthiest options.. I’m assigned to this area of town and there’s not a day or time where I don’t deliver food to your house..so I suspected that you don’t leave your house often..”

you looked to him for any social cue that he was uncomfortable by you

but he just looked sad, “no one’s... ever cared for me like that before.. people are always asking things of me, they never do things for me..”

in that moment, he caught your eyes

they were glassy and filled with worry

“thank you..” he says softly with a smile

you smiled back, “I gotta get back to work.. have a nice day, Mr. Yunho..”

“Yunho!” he calls out

“call me Yunho..”

“you can call me Y/N!”

now that Yunho knew that you were assigned to this area, maybe it wouldn’t be weird to order more often than he already does

to you know.. make a friend? or did you do that because you like him? but you never even seen his face until now....

you know? maybe this was just an act of kindness, right? is what he thought

which was true, at first

but when you saw heard what he said about how no one has ever done anything for him, you wanted to change that

you went to his place the next day on your day off

you could hear the thumping sounds of his footsteps, “Y/N? I didn’t order anything.. yet... you’re not wearing your uniform..”

Yunho ears turned pink at the sight of you so dolled up; periwinkle form-fitting dress with a light denim cropped jacket and white platformed sneakers; your hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail

“wh-what’s the occasion?”

you smiled at him, “I’m kidnapping you for a day.. you’re cooped in your big house 24/7, you’re too pale! let’s go get some sunshine and some food!”

you dragged him out of the house, “my wallet-”

“I’m paying! I don’t care what you say about “guys always paying for girls,” I’m different!”

Yunho didn’t know that his heart could feel so full, “that you are..”

maybe his luck wasn’t just catered towards riches and fortune

maybe you were his lucky charm

YEOSANG X HERMES

reincarnation of: HERMES (god of travelers and trade, the trickster, the messenger of the gods)

everyone would think that Yeosang is such an angel; how could he ever do anything wrong?

that’s where everyone is wrong

he is the king of tricksters; the devil on your left shoulder

but he would never face the consequences for his actions because before anyone realizes what he’s done, he’s gone in a snap

that was the life he was used to

that was until he came across you

you had just moved into a new townhouse complex; a nice area

you thought it was nice until you met the troublemaker of a neighbor

you caught him spray painting the side of your house

there was a walkway in between your house and his house, so the side of your house was completely bare

sure it was beautiful BUT you weren’t going to live there long so you didn’t want to go through the trouble of cleaning it yourself when you knew who the culprit was

little did he know, you were outside watering your plants

you sprayed him with water

“young lady! what are you doing to that poor young man!” the elderly lady who lived a couple of houses down was scolding you

“ma’am he was vandalizing my house!”

“well all I see is that he’s helping you clean it, isn’t that right Yeosang?”

you turned to see his mischievous smirk turn into an angelic one

“of course ma’am, I saw some kids spraying up the place and I wanted to help out our new neighbor~”

“she probably thought you were those kids, though I know you would NEVER do something so terrible.. what a sweet, sweet boy.. you two have a good day now~”

and with that she left

you caught the guy before he had the chance to run away and grabbed him by the collar

“I don’t know who you think you are, sweetheart.. but I hope you keep your promise and clean YOUR mess..you’re not fooling me..”

Yeosang sulks as he’s scrubbing your walls

you sprayed him with water, “whoops, I was trying to spray the wall.. must’ve slipped..”

“I’m gonna get you back...”

you sneaked right behind him

“probably wasn’t a good idea to say what your planning.. I’ll be ready.. you better count on it. now get to cleaning, sweetheart~” you said in the same tone as the elderly lady

since then, you and Yeosang have been in childish fights to get back at one another

everything on the lines of ding-dong ditching to stealing things from your property small things

this went on for days, weeks, almost over 3 months!

you don’t HATE him but you definitely don’t like his alter personality or his real one whatever it is

it was golden hour when you saw him lurking in your front lawn, you swung the door open

“WHAT do are YOU stealing this time, Yeosang?”

he grabs your wrist

“I’m stealing your time”

you rolled your eyes at him, “and what’s that gonna do?”

“hopefully succeed in stealing your heart”

SAN X HADES

reincarnation of: HADES (god of the underworld)

San lives and has lived a sad life; with each reincarnation, his life goes through the cycle of the whole story of Hades and Persephone

only to be in a “forced” relationship that runs in clockwork

he’s done everything to try to get away from this cursed life

he’s chained, shackled to lifestyle of his predecessor

but he wants to switch Hade’s selfishness into his own selflessness

he lives in black

he lives in chaos

he lives like how Hades would

like his life, you are also stuck in a loop; the only thing is, you are unaware of it

you are the reincarnation of Persephone; youthful even if you age, beautiful without any effort and brighter than any star in the sky

if he was the darkest twilight, you were the sun at it’s highest peak

San could always find you, even if he didn’t tried

it was destiny, no matter how he to evade it

he locked himself inside his dark home; having 3 black shibas as his companions

played chess by himself

cook meals to eat at his large and empty table

roasted his own coffee beans and drank black coffee to past time

didn’t even watch TV

only leaving at night when the stars are brighter than the streetlights and shadows are enveloping everything in sight

he wanted you to live every life with purpose and however you wanted

you deserve that at the very least

he didn’t want you to be apart of his terrible life

but there’s no way to dodge destiny, you were like a magnet

San was walking his dogs, his usual routine; same thing and everything

until you ran into him at the corner

there was no time for an exchange of words before his dogs all trampled on you with kisses

“Cy! Bear! Russ! get off of her!!” he tugs them off and he knew he was in trouble

even through reincarnations, you still looked the same; the same beautiful you

“I’m so sorry.. here..” he offers a hand to help you up but were you still playing with the dogs

“it’s all good, it’s my fault for going not paying attention on a jog! look at your little fluffy, woofy faces~” that’s when you finally look up at him and the reflection of the streetlights flickered in your eyes

“do I.. do I know you? you look familiar?”

you took his hand, bewitched by his striking features, as he helped you up, “you’re probably mistaking me for someone else...”

he looks around, it’s a sketchy area for you to be jogging so late in the night

“why are you jogging so late in such a dangerous area.. there no cameras, streetlights are dim and there’s little to no one awake right now?”

you truly didn’t know who he was, but you felt same with him

you felt like you probably knew him in another life; it made you feel sentimental

“I just got a new job and my new work schedule doesn’t allow me to have the time for my daily jog-”

“so you jog at night where it’s most dangerous?!” San slightly raised his voice at you

which startled you, “I-I’m sorry...”

San took out his phone, “what area to do you live in? I’m gonna call a cab to take you home..”

“you don’t have to! I live close by...”

you waited for him to offer walking you home but the silence just prolonged longer than you expected

“you could walk me home?” you asked

how could San ever say no to you; it was like he was programmed not to

“sure...” you led the way and he followed you as closely as he could without letting your hands brush against each other

“I’m Y/N”

“San..”

“do you live around here too?”

“yeah”

you tried to make small talk with him but he kept his answers short

“this is me..” you showed him the gate to your place

“stay safe, Y/N..don’t run out so late..” he said before leaving

but you held him back, “you know.. maybe I could walk your dogs or something... so that I can feel safer.. or maybe we can go on nightly walks?”

San turns to walk back to where you were; Cy, Bear and Russ followed him after

“if fate allows us, we’ll meet again... please take care and be safe, Y/N.. goodnight..”

maybe destiny is inevitable

maybe he’s miserable because he doesn’t want to force this destiny onto you and make you miserable

but maybe you aren’t actually miserable when you’re with him

but he can’t take those chances

and he won’t

MINGI X POSEIDON

reincarnation of: POSEIDON (god of the sea)

Mingi was your childhood friend; a complete moody, edgy son of a gun

his personality wavered like water itself

he can be calm as a pond on a silent night or he can be as violent as a roaring hurricane

you learned how to deal with all of his mood swings

you thought you knew all about him

you basically knew all about him

except for the fact that he’s actually the reincarnation of the god of moody waves himself, Poseidon

because of his mood swings, he always had a hard time with dating

if the girls thought their mood swings were bad, they had no idea what they signed up for when they were dating him

they all ended badly

you felt bad for Mingi

you knew him the most

you knew how he was

you knew the kinks in his gears

today was another day, another break up for Mingi

so the real question is, why didn’t you and Mingi ever dated each other?

you pushed feelings and thoughts to the side because, you knew that dating would be different

he’s seen you through all your hard times and much as you have been there for him

what if you lose him and any relationship you have with him?

so you locked those feelings away and pretended like everything was fine

except everything wasn’t fine

you began to cough petals of blue hydrangeas; the more you suppressed your feelings the worst it got

and every time Mingi was involved in another relationship, you could feel the branches curling around your lungs

you didn’t want to go through with the surgery to get the flowers out because if you did, you would forget about the feelings you ever had for Mingi

your whole relationship with Mingi relied on those feelings; you couldn’t toss those away

so you hid all of this from him

well, you thought you did

“what happened this time?” you asked as you tossed him a hoodie you borrowed from him

“she didn’t like you.. so I broke up with her..”

that reeled in some of those locked away feelings but you kept them in the back of your head and out of your heart

“it seemed like she was good for you.. I could just back away-”

“NO!”

Mingi tossed the hoodie and slammed you up into the wall

you were so startled; he never resulted into hurting you before so it made you scared

he was never the physically violent type; especially towards people

but this was different, he was acting different

scared to the point where tears welted up in your eyes

it made everything blurry but the sight of Mingi in front of you was still clear

in that moment, Mingi realized what he did and remorse washed over

“I-I’m sorry don’t cry..” he wiped your tears away; you were so overwhelmed you didn’t realized that he turned your tears into aerosolized mist

he held your head as he caged into a hug

your favorite hugs

“I can’t live without you.. I don’t know what I’d do without you... even when I’m with other girls, I can stop thinking about you..”

those locked feelings that you had for him were trickling into your heart

it got a little bit easier to breathe

you cupped his face, “Mingi..what are you trying to say?”

you needed to hear him say it with his own mouth

“I love you, Y/N... I can’t be with you..”

your eyes wavered and your hands trembled

“why? is it something that I did or something that I said? am I... am I not good enough for you?”

Mingi shook his head furiously, “no. no.. Y/N, you are perfect. you are everything I want.. everything that I need... but I can’t let you be apart of the life that I live.. deal with the family that I have...”

you didn’t know about Mingi’s family but Mingi never seemed to want to talk about

“this is why I have to do this.. I hope.. I hope you understand..”

he kissed your forehead and then everything became black

when you woke up, you were in the hospital and you had no recollection of where you were and how you lived you life up until now

Mingi was moving out of his house next to your; he had been crying because he knew about your condition

he distracted himself with other girls because he couldn’t get you involved with his family

those girls were short-term relationships to distract him from his long-term crush on you

which worked then but it probably won’t work now

because you will never remember him

you will never love him again

and now he’s coughing up blue hydrangeas; but in your memory, he’ll keep it until the day he dies

WOOYOUNG X DIONYSUS

reincarnation of: DIONYSUS (god of wine)

the sun was peeking through the window; stirring you awake

when you opened your eyes, it hit you

you weren’t in your bed

or your room

or even your clothes

you looked to your right and put 2 and 2 together

you were in the same bed as the “sweetheart” of a frat boy, Wooyoung

you couldn’t help but scream

which caused Wooyoung to scream and fall out of bed

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!”

“WHAT? NOTHING! NOTHING!”

Wooyoung was sleeping with a black tank top and grey sweatpants

you were in his shirt and boxers for shorts

Wooyoung stares at you as you stare back at him

“can I sit on the bed and tell you what happened?”

“only if you don’t touch me-”

“I’m not going to touch you, not without consent anyw-”

“OKAY WHAT HAPPENED?”

Wooyoung pointed to the living room which was visible from where you and Wooyoung were

“we were studying because we’re in the same literature class..” he dragged out his sentence

“uh-huh~” you motioned your hands to move along

“you wanted a break and I brought out some wine...”

“uh-huh”

“and then you talked about your love life and you started getting out of hand..”

“WHAT?! I DON’T REMEMBER THAT PART!”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “you CHUG 2 glasses without even talking to me and then you started to talk about Lucas-”

“OK OK OK!” you could feel your face getting red and your head started to feel tight

he noticed your discomfort and got up from the bed

“where’re you going” you slurred

“getting your dumdum head some water and advil”

when he came back, you were still laying in bed but you had tossed your hair up in a messy bun

“you started to get hysterical; saying that you’re a great gal and why don’t you have a boyfriend and spilled wine on yourself. I told you to go take a shower and gave you some of my clothes to borrow..” he handed you the water and bottle of advil

you nodded and took them from him; still embarrassed

“you called for me in the bathroom. you showered and changed but you didn’t want to walk. complained that you were sleepy.. so I carried you to the bed..”

“you carried my fat-ass?!” you were conscious about your weight

“like a princess..” he smiled at you

“I was going to sleep on the couch but you BEGGED me not to leave you, so I slept NEXT to you and there was a nice amount of space between us..okay? NOTHING happened..”

“okay..” you murmured

you weren’t confident in your looks and always worried about your appearance but Wooyoung didn’t care about any of that

“Y/N.. are you okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable..”

“you don’t make me uncomfortable..” you pulled the blanket up to cover your body, “I don’t want to you to be uncomfortable..by me..”

Wooyoung held your hand, “you don’t.. I hope you know that..”

you were about to slide your hand away but Wooyoung held on

“I know what the others say about me, but that’s not me... I’m not some frat guy who goes around sleeping with other girls..or a guy who’s known for going to the bars and clubs every other night... I’m just a guy who’s too wimp to actually tell the girl he actually likes that he wants to be with her and make her feel loved and make her love herself..so...”

you felt him lift your chin up to meet him eye to eye

“will you let me get the chance to do that?”

JONGHO X HERACLES

reincarnation of: HERACLES (son of Zeus)

Jongho was just minding his business

he JUST had to go to the store to get some more protein shake powder before going to the gym

he was JUST taking off his helmet that went with his motorcycle when he heard you yelling someone to back off

he turns to you across the street in an alley cornered by a moderately fit guys

sure he was always saving the damsel in distress but this time was different

“ma’am are you in any trouble?” he shouts out to you and it catches the attention of the other guy

“a girl can take care of her own and take care of this fool myself..” you tried to wave him off but the guy grabbed your arm quite forcefully

“take care of this fool? Y/N.. aren’t you such a doll?”

no words were able to leave your lips when Jongho rips the guy’s hand from you and slams his fist into his face

it takes more than a couple seconds for the guy to get up from the ground

he glares at Jongho with terrified eyes

“this isn’t the last you’ll see from me!” the moment the guy is up on his feet he’s running

“wow.. if he was a dog, he’d be running with his tail between his legs..”

you looked at the guy who just saved you, he had on a leather jacket and his black hair was slicked back like he was in Grease

“what are you some type of modern-day Hercules, biker boy?” you joked

Jongho gave an awkward cough, “you could say.. but.. are you okay?”

you nodded as you rubbed your arm

“a little shaken up but I’ll live..” you started to look around; you were slightly paranoid at this point

“you wanna go for a ride? we can go anywhere you wanna go” he asked as he pointed to his bike

“in that?!” you’ve never rode anything of that sort

he took your hand and handed you his extra helmet, “it’s a little scary at first but she drives like a dream”

weary but you trusted him, “what’s your name?”

“I’m Jongho”

“well, Jongho..” you started to adjust the helmet on your head, “I’m gonna take your word for it..” you held your hand out for him to take

he takes it, you didn’t expect him to kiss it but he does

“what a gentleman..” you tried to hide the trembling of your voice

you hated rollercoaster or any rides of that kind

anything that involved a rush of adrenaline scared you

but when Jongho wrapped your arms around his waist, you felt safe and you weren’t as scared

“where to, princess?” he asks as he turns to shoot you the most adorable smile

“know any good food carts?”

“buckle up, because I know just the place”

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years

Text

Stone Hearts Chapter 6

Summary:

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.

Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 or FFn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Rated E

Chapter 6

Emma is tired - really tired. Like fall asleep on your feet, collapse on the nearest surface when you get home and pass out tired. Today had been awful. All week there had been a non-stop chaotic inflow of stupid calls from stupid people with their stupid small-town problems. But today was different. Today there had actually been a few real problems along with the usual bullshit she’d gotten used to. Today she’d had to deal with vandalism, three fights, two women who wanted to divorce their husbands and thought the police were the right people to call for that, trespassing, and even a suspected stalking. And it was fucking exhausting.

To make matters worse, she had been alone today. Her parents are out of town for the day, picking up some order she couldn’t remember that Snow needed for one of the events she’s throwing to try boost town morale. Emma’s lost track of which event it is. She’d have asked Killian to come in but he had booked the day off to go sailing with Henry before Henry left to spend the weekend at a friend's cottage. And with everything that her kid was dealing with right now, she didn’t want to take that away from him. And Killian deserves a break too. He works just as hard as she does at the station. It isn’t his fault that today happened to be the day that all hell broke loose.

She’s so relieved when she reaches her front door that she barely registers Killian’s ‘Hello, Love’ as she walks inside. All she can see is the couch. The big, comfy, soft couch that looks so inviting and so very enticing. She drops her keys and her bag and shuffles the short distance into the living room before collapsing face first onto the cushions. She can hear Killian chuckling behind her.

“Rough day?” he asks. She lets out a long suffering groan that’s slightly muffled by the pillow under her face and Killian laughs again. She feels him sit down, his weight shifting the couch beneath her and she forces herself to roll onto her back so she can look at him. She likes looking at him. He has a nice face. Looking at him always makes her feel the tiniest bit better even when she feels her worst. He reaches forward and brushes her messy, staticky hair off her forehead. “Want to talk about it?”

No, she really doesn’t. She wants to lay on this couch with her boyfriend and snuggle and eat bad food and watch bad movies. She shakes her head and then notices a bag, packed and sitting near the coffee table. Oh crap. She forgot. They’re supposed to have a date night tonight. Emma practically wants to cry at the idea of leaving the house right now - at the thought of standing up honestly. She takes his hand that’s still stroking her face and holds it with both of her own against her chest.

“Do you mind if we reschedule our date tonight?” she practically pleads. She feels guilt drop like led in her stomach when he looks really thrown - and a bit disappointed - by her request. His expression is shocked and even a little bit panicked and Emma quickly rushes to explain. “I really wanted to but I'm just so tired and I know I won’t be any fun,” she explains. Killian gives her a soft smile then.

“You’re always fun, Emma,” he tells her and she smiles back at him appreciative of the blatant lie.

“Can we just stay in? All I want to do is eat an entire tub of ice cream, put on my PJs and watch bad Netflix with you.”

He nods. “Go get changed. I’ll make dinner.” She beams at him. This man is too good to her. She loves him so damn much it actually scares her sometimes - like she doesn’t know if she’s physically able to contain all of that love inside of herself and one day it will just explode.

She uses his hand to pull him down to her so she can kiss him. He comes willingly and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her softly, one of those long, slow, reverent kisses that he always means to be sweet and innocent but that instead always sends her pulse rocketing and heat flooding to her belly. She groans a bit and pulls him closer, fisting her hand in his hair so she can deepen the kiss, opening her mouth under his in invitation. He’s the one who groans this time, pushing his tongue into her mouth as his hand drops hers and slides up her side under her jacket and t-shirt, leaving fire and goosebumps in its wake.

“I thought you said you were tired,” he reminds her with a smirk, pulling back slightly so he can speak but not so far back that they’re lips have to stop touching.

Emma lets out a sad, pathetic whine. “I am,” she admits bitterly. She is tired. Too tired for sex. Not that she doesn’t want him. She always wants him. Her body is screaming at her right now for daring to stop Killian once he gets going but she just doesn’t have the energy. She hates her job so much. He chuckles and kisses her once more on the mouth and then once on her forehead.

“Come on,” he says, standing. “Need a hook?” he offers, holding the appendage out to her with a stupid grin on his face. She rolls her eyes at him as she grabs hold of it and he heaves her up off the couch. She loves him so damn much.

Slowly, ridiculously slowly, maybe a bit dramatically slowly, Emma makes her way upstairs to find her pyjamas. This house is too big, she decides as she climbs what feels like the millionth stair and walks down the longest hallway in the world to their room. She changes slowly, every movement feeling like a momentous effort as she becomes aware of how sore she is. She’d had too much adrenaline in her system today to notice how much of a tole the running and the breaking up fights and the getting struggling idiots into the back of her bug had taken on her muscles. She debates a shower but as good as that would feel she fears falling asleep in it and drowning. She feels very dramatic tonight.

When she finally reaches the living room again, there’s a grilled cheese waiting on the coffee table and a handsome pirate waiting on the couch. His plate is already finished. She smiles, taking a seat next to him - well she doesn’t really sit, she throws herself across the couch with her legs in Killians lap - and takes a bite of the sandwich. She’s touched. He didn’t even try to sneak anything healthy into it. She moans as she chews her first bite.

“Thank you,” she says around a mouthful and he smiles endearingly at her. He produces a pint of ice cream from beside the couch and Emma puts her hands to her chest, greasy bread and all. “I love you,” she tells him and he laughs.

“Never let it be said I don’t know how to keep my woman happy,” he jokes and Emma nudges him with her foot.

“You do,” she agrees, accepting the ice cream.

Later, when the grilled cheese and the ice cream are finished and they’re lounging, watching some crime documentary, Emma takes a look at the man beside her. He’s relaxed now, laying back against the armrest with her legs in his lap, absentmindedly rubbing the arch of her foot. He’s taken off his jacket, vest and shirt, leaving him in only his black t-shirt - the man wears way too many layers, she thinks not for the first time. His shoes are on the floor, having been kicked off at some point between this show and the last. She loves seeing him like this, so comfortable and at ease, looking like he belongs here in her living room - like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. He does belong here, she thinks and she belongs wherever he is. This is exactly what she never knew she dreamed of. Lazy evenings on the couch with the man she loves and who loves her more than she ever thought anyone would.

He looks over at her, seeming to have sensed her staring at him.

“What?” he asks, voice not too troubled.

She smiles at him and shrugs. “Nothing,” she tells him. “You’re just kind of perfect.”

Killian scoffs. “Hardly.”

Can’t have that, she thinks. With great effort, she sits up and crawls across the couch so that she can lay against his chest, tangling their legs together on the slightly too narrow sofa. She brushes his cheek with the back of her fingers, somewhat in awe of how beautiful he is. She’s still not used to it. But it’s not just his face. His heart is beautiful too and that’s something she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to - how kind and supportive and loving he is. Always. She cups his cheek in her palm.

“You are,” she tells him firmly and his eyes soften a little at her words. She forgets sometimes that he needs to hear it too. He’s so good at telling her how beautiful, how smart, how strong she is but she realises that maybe her lack of skill with words has made him doubt himself. She resolves to make an effort, to tell him more often, all the time. “This is perfect,” she says, still holding his gaze.

He gives her a small smile, eyes full of affection and love and pure contentment as he brings his own hand to her cheek. “It is,” he agrees and she lays her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his fingers brushing gently through her hair until she starts to drift off.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you know.” She vaguely hears the words, drifting in that space between sleep and wakefulness, not quite registering their meaning but it fills her with a soft warmth and she snuggles deeper into him, breathing him in.

“Okay,” she mumbles, nuzzling at his chest as she tries to find sleep again.

She feels his whole body tense and Emma feels her own instantly do the same. He thought she was asleep, she realises.

“Do you mean it?” he asks, craning his neck to try to look at her. She lifts her head and rests her chin on her hands, folded over on his chest. She meets his eyes and he looks so anxious, so nervous and it rattles her. She did mean it. Of course she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. She went to Hell for him, literally. She’s been afraid of this kind of love, this kind of commitment, her whole life. But now, with him, it doesn’t feel scary. Why should she be afraid to tell him that she’s in this for the long haul?

She knows he’s looking for an honest answer so she gives him one. “Yes.”

She watches as his eyes go wide for a fraction of a second, like he can’t quite believe it. Then, he wriggles beneath her as he reaches for something in his pocket. She lifts some of her weight off him to help. He brings whatever it is up between them and holds it out to her, his arm wedged between the couch and her head. She turns to look at it.

Holy shit. It's a ring. A diamond ring. The kind of diamond ring that can only be that kind of diamond ring. Holy shit. Holy shit. Her heart is pounding against her ribcage, blood rushing in her ears and she reels up so that she’s sitting on the other side of the couch, staring at him in shock.

“Emma?” he asks, sitting up as well. He's worried and Emma tries really hard to fight through her initial shock. Crap. He probably thinks she’s panicking, probably thinks she’s changing her mind or didn’t mean what she said. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. It hadn’t been doubt or fear, it had just been shock, she hadn’t been ready for it and she needs to make sure he knows that’s all it is.

“Sorry,” she says, reaching out for him, scooting herself closer so that she’s practically in his lap. “You just surprised me.” He looks apprehensive for a moment but then she sees the anxiety leave him in one heavy breath. He holds the ring between them, just by his heart, looking at it and then chancing a glance up at her.

“So you still want to…”

“Of course I still want to!” She practically giggles she’s so excited. Now that the panic is gone she’s able to take it in. This is real. Killian Jones is asking her to marry him. She could cry she’s so happy. “I just didn’t know you were planning to -” she cuts herself off as she realizes. “Oh my god,” she groans. “We were supposed to go out tonight,” she brings a hand to her face, remembering their plans to take the Jolly Roger out overnight. He’d said he wanted to take her stargazing. “You probably had a whole thing planned didn’t you?” She feels awful. “And now I’ve ruined it.”

Killian puts the ring in his pocket and takes hold of her face, gently urging her to look at him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he tells her, his thumb coming up to sooth the frown between her brows. “I like it better this way,” he confesses and Emma lets herself relax a little as she listens. “Actually, Henry and David were the ones who told me I should make a grand gesture out of it. They said that’s what women in this realm expect.”

“You went to my dad?” she demands, somewhat shocked. Henry she could understand. Henry had been dropping hints about how they should just get married already for months. But her dad? David had certainly grown to like Killian, she’d even dare say they were friends now. But she worried about how he’d react to anyone wanting to marry her.

“Not for permission,” he assures her. “For advice.”

“What did he say? When you told him.”

Killian goes a little red, the tips of his ears and the top of his cheekbones flushing. “He hugged me.”

“He hugged you?” This night is just one twist after another.

“Aye, he gave me some speech about how proud he was of me for changing from a - quote - vengeful pirate to a man willing to give someone his heart.”

She smiles, her heart filling with love at the idea of David being so happy for Killian. He didn’t need her father’s blessing, but somehow, knowing that they have it makes this moment all the more perfect.

“And what did you say?”

Killian brings his hand up to scratch behind his ear. “I told him anyone can give their heart away if they truly wish to.” He looks at her then. “And I do, Emma, I have ever since we climbed that beanstalk.”

She leans in and kisses him, eyes brimming with tears. “Me too. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

He smirks at her. “Don’t be. You know I love a challenge.”

“So, wait,” she asks, still trying to put together all this new information. “You said Dad and Henry told you to propose on the ship.” He nods. “How did you want to do it?”

Killian smiles, a slow, fond kind of smile with just that little bit of mischief that she loves about him. He takes her hand in his again.

“In New York, when I found you after the longest and most difficult year of my life.” He presses a kiss to her knuckles. “In Storybrooke, when you sacrificed your magic for me.” His lips press against the tips of her fingers. “In the Enchanted Forest… so many times then.” She feels him place another kiss in the centre of her palm. “When I found you in Camelot after I thought I lost you.” On her wrist this time, a longer, more lingering kiss and it makes her heart race. “When you found me in the Underworld, when Zeus sent me back to you…” he looks at her then. “It’s always been you Swan. Since the moment we met.”

She smiling through her tears now, practically blubbering as she grabs hold of his face and kisses him with everything she has inside. How she ever doubted this man she’ll never understand but she knows she never will again.

“And,” he says as they break apart for a moment. Emma is torn between wanting to hear what he has to say and wanting to continue kissing him. He’s reaching back and digging into one of the many pockets in his jacket until he finds what he’s looking for. “I wanted to ask you with this ring.”

Emma looks at the ring he holds up between them. She recognizes it. It’s small and silver with a dark stone in the center. It was the one he wore when he got his hand back.

“It was my mother’s,” he says and then shrugs. “But, David and Henry said people propose with diamonds here.”

It takes everything in her power to compose herself but she manages to stop the continuous stream of happy tears long enough to take his hand, and the ring, between both her hands. He looks at her questioningly.

“Ask me again,” she says. “Ask me with this ring, the way you want to.” He beams at her like he’s having as much difficulty containing his happiness as she is. He clears his throat, holding the ring up between them.

“Will you marry me, Emma?”

“Yes!” She practically throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lets out a laugh that comes from deep within him, one of pure joy and something that almost sounds like relief. She muffles it with her lips on his but can’t silence it completely, both of them attempting to continue the kiss while laughing and smiling so hard her face hurts. They fail miserably but she doesn’t care.

They detangle long enough for him to slip the ring on her finger and for a second he just stares at it and she wishes she knew what he was thinking. After a moment, he presses a kiss to her finger and she drags him back up to her lips. Shitty day at work and stupid townspeople be damned. Emma has never been this happy in her life.

She woke up the next morning to a shut and locked door. The faintest shadow of a profile through the window let her know that her guard was still there, standing on the other side like nothing happened. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe she’d dreamed it. Whatever it was, it didn’t change anything. More likely than anything he was supposed to listen to her talk, get information, pass it on to Gold and the King.

What a pretentious fucking name, she thought. What kind of high and mighty son of a bitch just comes into a town or a realm and demands to be called a king. She has other reasons to hate him, plenty, but this is just another good one to add to the list. Only a monster would come up with this kind of torture, making her spend day after day with the thing that killed the man she loves while pumping her for information.

The last few nights, thinking that maybe he was in there, maybe he was trying to get out… she’d been an idiot. That kind of stuff wasn’t real. True love didn’t conquer all and she’d let herself be drawn in by the memory of a love so overwhelming she didn’t know how to exist without it. She was trying, every day, but it just got fucking harder and harder and having him here - she couldn’t think about it. She needed to do something else, distract herself.

She took the stolen pages out of her pocket, unfolding them and finding a book to read them behind. There had to be some kind of loophole. There was always a loophole wasn’t there? She read the spell over and over again. And then she read it three more times. Nothing. There was nothing except - holy shit. She read the phrase over and over again. It could work. It was huge fucking gamble, but it could work.

She shoved the pages back in her pocket and started pacing her room. Okay. Okay. She had the beginnings of a plan. She had something. She could feel herself getting riled up, more energy coursing through her than she’d had since she was brought here. She didn’t want to let herself hope but if this worked - no, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered unless she could find a way out of here. How the hell was she going to get out of here? How was she going to get Henry out? That was what mattered. She didn’t care if she didn’t make it out. There was nothing out there for her. All that mattered was Henry and if he was safe and alive then she could rot in here for all she cared.

She had a vague idea of the layout of the hospital after the many visits paid here in the past. She knew the path between her cell and Henry’s and had a vague sense of who was usually on guard. She’d passed the same people on almost every walk there. And as Henry himself had said, Archie only occasionally guarded his cell and if she needed to she knew she could take him out - kill him if she had to. She tried to remember who the others were, which ones she could fight and which one’s she’d have to avoid. She’d seen Jefferson once and he was her biggest worry. She’d bested him once but that had been luck.

Killian though - no. not Killian. Some imposter, some monster who had replaced him - he would be the most difficult. There had been moments. Small, almost insignificant little blips where she thought maybe she was getting through to... something. She couldn’t believe that it was Killian in there, that he was trapped and trying to break free. No. Killian was dead. He had to be dead. Everyone else was. She remembered the way his face had twisted the time she demanded more time with Henry. What the hell was he?

Her musings were cut short by two hard raps on the door. She looked up to see her guard holding up the cuff. She sighed. She really didn’t have fucking time for whatever Gold wanted. Screw him. She said she’d try to work on the spell to keep Henry safe but she’d never promised to be at his beck and call. She sat on her mattress, arms crossed in a pathetic attempt at defiance, at exercising the feeble bit of free will she still had.

After a moment there were another two raps on the door. Emma held firm. They’d have to drag her out if they wanted her. He could come in here and force her to put the cuff on. Let him try his luck once he was in here and she had her magic. She would destroy him, for Killian’s sake. She waited. Again, there were two raps at the door.

Finally, after she didn’t respond for a third time the door opened. He just stood there, staring at her, holding the cuff up in the air beside him. She glared at him. She hated him. She hated the way that whatever he was had warped and twisted the beautiful face that she’d loved so much, made it dark and cruel. No, not cruel. Cruel required emotions. She could handle cruel. She had handled cruel when he was the Dark One. This was just… empty. All of the love and hope and kindness that Killian had in his heart had been snuffed out by this thing that dared to wear his face.

He didn’t move, just waiting. It broke her heart to look at him. Even now she could feel the raw ache starting to claw at her chest, ripping out bits of her and leaving them to drown in the misery that was left behind. She glared at him, arms tightening around herself as though she could physically keep herself together, protect herself from the memories that every look threw her way.

“What do you want?” she spat. He gestured with the cuff, barely a movement. “I’m not putting it on.” He continued to stare. “Go away!” she demanded, feeling like a teenager now. She picked up a book and threw it at him. It hit him squarely in the chest. It had to have hurt. But he didn’t flinch. Of course he didn’t. This imposter didn’t feel anything. It just existed, some kind of abomination with no soul and -

He looked away. It was the first time he had moved since opening the door. She followed his gaze down to the book which had fallen at his feet. She hadn’t even noticed what she’d thrown at him. It took her a second before she recognized it. It was the storybook. He tilted his head as if trying to make sense of it.

The book hadn’t fallen completely open, the pages only half turned, wedged between his foot and one of the other piles of books by the door. It was inside though, and Emma watched him watch it. His expression didn’t change but he continued staring at it. There was no recognition but he didn’t look away. What was he doing? she wondered.

Her heart started racing. The book was inside the room. Her magic worked inside the room. Maybe… she didn’t want to hope, she was so fucking scared of hoping, so tired of having it dashed away every time she let it creep in to her bones. But she needed to know, needed to see his reaction. See if there would be a reaction. She braced herself, braced herself for the pain that would come if there was nothing.

She waved her hand and the pages of the book flipped until it fell open to that same picture that had stepped on her broken heart not just once, but twice. She watched him closely as he took in the image of them dancing, holding each other close and smiling, happy. He remained stoic, unmoving and Emma could feel pain starting to flow up in her throat, like bile burning her, when suddenly, there was something. She almost missed it. A flicker, like an involuntary reaction. A small twitch in his eyebrow, a microscopic clench in his jaw. And just like that it was gone.

Emma lost all the air in her lungs. She couldn’t remember how to breathe. Did he know? Did he remember? She looked at him as he turned his gaze back to her. She watched every inch of his face, heart racing in her chest, stomach clenching. Please. Please. Are you in there?

He motioned with the cuff again and Emma let out an exasperated breath. Of course he wasn’t. But there had been something. She hadn’t imagined it, hadn’t dreamed it this time. She saw it. She just didn’t know what it was. She stood, walking to the door and accepting the cuff, putting it on her wrist and showing him it was on her wrist with a bit more sass than was really necessary. But it felt good.

Once it was on he turned and allowed her to walk past him out the door. She followed him down the same hallway she always did. As always, he didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead, like she could have been a dog or some other animal just walking along beside him. Like she was nothing.

They reached the fork where they had turned towards Gold’s office last time and she headed to the right. She was stopped with a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, then at his hand, then back at him, wishing looks could kill. After a moment, he dropped his hand and started down the opposite hallway. This was new. He’d never taken her this way before. She stayed vigilant of her surroundings, trying to take note of where they were, if there was any sort of escape route, or any indication that he was taking her somewhere dangerous. Maybe they’d decided to just kill her and take her heart themselves from her corpse.

She watched the man in front of her carefully, taking note of his defenses. If she had to fight her way out she would. She saw his sword at his hip but knew there was no way she’d be able to get that from him. She remembered that when she first met Killian he used to wear a dagger on his ankle. She wondered if he still did - or well, if he’d been wearing one when this thing had stolen him. They had been living in fear for months, always armed, always ready for a fight. Maybe he had taken to his old ways, concealing weapons to protect himself - protect them.

She didn’t have long to ponder that thought before her guide stopped, unlocking a door and holding it open. As always, there were no words, no gesture that she should enter. How galant, she thought sarcastically as she brushed past him into the room. It was a locker room. With showers. She glanced back at him in surprise but his face remained impassive. There was a towel and a bar of soap on a bench near them and she realised they were for her. She waited for an explanation, but of course, none was given.

Screw it, she thought. It was just a shower. If he was going to kill her at least she could die warm and clean. She hadn’t had a chance to wash since before she’d arrived and she could smell how much she stank. She decided she didn’t care if this was a trap - if it was one, it was a really bad, really weird one. She let her vanity take over for a moment. She was tired of feeling and looking disgusting. She wanted to feel clean and normal. She wanted to feel human. Just for a second.

She heard the door shut behind her as she started stripping off her clothes. She looked up to see not-Killian standing inside of it, hook at his side and hand on his sword. Standing guard, she realised. He didn’t seem to care about where they were and why would he? He didn’t care about anything. But she did.

“Turn around,” she told him. She wasn’t going to undress in front of this thing. He may look like Killian but he wasn’t. He didn’t move but his eyes met hers. “I mean it. Turn around.” He stared at her for another second, and she could have sworn she saw the slightest twitch in his eyebrow, but then he turned around and it was gone.

She stared at the back of him. He shouldn’t have listened to her. She knew he shouldn’t have. Had he been told to? How many times now had he done as she asked? First with finding Henry, then giving her more time, opening the door last night… and now this. How many times had those actions gone against what he’d been told to do? She didn’t know. She had no idea what he’d been told to do and so she couldn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust this feeling that pounded in her stomach every time he did something… wrong. She knew the feeling. It was her gut, her unwavering trust in Killian telling her to believe, believe that he was in there, that he was trying to get back to her. But she couldn’t trust it. It was too dangerous to trust anything, to believe in anything.

She finished stripping off her clothes. She didn’t enjoy the thought of having to put them back on. She wondered if maybe he’d give her time to wash them, at least her underwear. She wondered if he would if she asked him. Angry with herself for the thought - don’t be an idiot. He doesn’t care about you. You mean nothing to him - she grabbed the soap and turned on the shower. She decided just to keep her underwear on and wash them that way.

Stepping under the spray felt like heaven. The water was hot and the pressure was good and she allowed herself a moment to just stand there, letting the water cascade over her tired, cramped muscles and warm her from the outside in. She tilted her head back, letting her hair get soaked and did her best to lather the bar of soap into it. It would still be a tangled mess but at least it would be a clean tangled mess. It flopped wetly against her back as she turned to let the water wash over her chest and stomach.

She felt him move before she heard it. She froze, not daring to turn around. The footsteps didn’t sound aggressive they sounded… tentative? She hadn’t heard him draw his sword, hadn’t heard any kind of weapon be unsheathed. Just footsteps. She waited, waited until she could feel him standing behind her. She should have felt afraid. She was vulnerable and exposed and he was armed. But she couldn’t summon any fear. Maybe it was because she had given up on caring about her own life, about her own safety. Or, maybe, it was because she could hear him breathing behind her, his breath shaky and uncertain. Or, maybe it was because of the strange, gut feeling that if she told him to leave… he would. But she didn't. He was so close and it killed her. Everything about him felt like Killian. She could smell him, feel the heat of him radiating against her back despite the distance and the hot water.

She closed her eyes and just for a minute she let herself imagine that it was him. If he was going to kill her, if she was going to die, she wanted to remember him one last time before she did. She wanted to let herself believe that he was here with her, that he’d come back to her, that none of this had ever happened.

She heard the rustle of his coat as he moved and then gently, almost reverently, his fingers combed through her hair. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop the sob that wanted to break out of her. He touched her like he always had, like Killian always had, brushing his fingers through her hair until he came to the ends. She risked a glance over her shoulder at him. She couldn’t see him well, just bits of his profile. He was closer than she’d realised, fingers toying in the ends of her hair, head bent forward so that she couldn’t make out his face.

She waited, holding her breath, afraid to break whatever was happening, break whatever spell or trance he was under. There was a moment before she felt him let go of her hair. She felt his fingers on her back. Tentatively at first, just the tips of his fingers brushing along the line of her spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then he pressed his palm the to small of her back. His forehead fell against her shoulder.

Killian? she thought, and the word was like a knife ripping through her, ripping open the bag in which she had kept all of her hopes and fears safely stowed away and letting them reap havoc inside of her. Could he be in there? God, she’d fought it but she wanted him to be in there. She would do anything for that to be the case. She fought the tears that wanted to fall, that wanted to wrack her whole body with pain and loss and desperation - this small piece of her just begging for it to be real. Killian, come back to me, she thought, raising her face to the spray so that the water could wash the tears away.

His hand rose up, fingers barely touching the hair at her left shoulder, the pieces that had fallen across her chest. Gently and agonizingly slowly, he brushed her hair off over her right shoulder, revealing her back to him. And he froze.

She whirled around, watching as he stepped back quickly, like she had burned him. His face was still blank but his eyes were fixed on her. His hand came up to his chest, fingers resting over his heart and she knew what he’d seen. The small tattoo on her back, over her heart. He broke away from her eyes and looked down at his hand, at his chest where she knew, and apparently he did too, that he had the same tattoo.

He looked at her again and she could swear there was something. Another twitch that felt like she could have imagined it. But she didn’t imagine it. Maybe she hadn’t imagined any of them. But then it was gone, as always, and he was empty again. A shell, a husk, a corpse. He picked the towel up off the bench and handed it to her.

They went to Henry’s room after. On the way, Emma kept trying to rationalize what had happened, ignore it, convince herself it wasn’t real. But then she’d notice the dampness of his shirt or the droplets hanging off the tips of the hair that fell over his face and she knew it was real. She just didn’t know what it meant. But she did know how she could use it.

She and Henry had the same routine as always. They were given their five minute order and spoke their code words and then he threw himself at her and she clung to him. This time though, she actually had something for him. She had a plan. She held him tight, turning her head to whisper in his ear.

“Tell Ruby to be ready. We’re getting out tonight. I'll come find you. I know what to do now.”

#stone hearts #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #cs #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs smut #captain swan smut #captain swan angst #cs angst

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ailuronymy · 4 years

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Book Club: Tallstar’s Revenge, chpt. 1-9 overview.

Thoughts on the new Windclan, courtesy of famed Erin Hunter impersonators:

“DIRT BOYS!! LET'S MAKE THEM ALL DIRT BOYS!” -- K.

"I understand we've stressed extensively that ALL Windclan love running and are skinny binches and need to be under the sky or they're sad, BUT half the clan has always been buff as fuck and live like moles :) :) we just didn't mention it before because it wasn't important to Harry's journey :) :) :)” -- S.

For this first share, we’ll keep to the questions posted earlier in the week so that there’s some kind of structure to what we’re doing! Please feel welcome to do the same and @ailuronymy + use the tag #ailuronymy writing challenge. Happy reading and I’m looking forward to seeing your feelings about this book.

1. First impressions?

S. better than Bluestar's Prophecy. K. Not as bad as BP but also hoo boy, you peel back the onion and it only gets uglier the more you think about it huh K. Me, reading the book initially: Wow I actually kind of enjoyed this! Me now: I See. I See The Truth.

2. How did you feel reading this section?

S. mostly the usual amount of exasperation! But it was also fun and I like Tallpaw K. About the same! Not as bored as BP, and I do like Tallpaw, so that's a blessing in disguise.

3. What chapter did you find most interesting/moving/effective, and why?

S. probably the one where Heatherstar causes a ruckus and acknowledges Tallpaw's best interests. There was genuinely tension and it was refreshing to have a character in authority actually act reasonably towards Tallpaw. K. I agree, that one had me really excited to read.

4. What chapter did you find least interesting/effective/most frustrating, and why?

S. I honestly struggled with chapter eight. If I have to read too much action being described, I black out. I just find it so boring. That's not actually a criticism at Erin Hunter. I just have a short attention span for people Doing Things that aren't talking, sword-fights, having big emotions, sex, or any combination. And even then, the sword-fights and/or sex still have to keep to a reasonable word limit or I wander away. I'm the worst. I'm literally like a child who only wants to eat sweets, but in written form. S. I forgot basically all of chapter eight for the above reason of being terrible, so that's on me.

K. I have nothing written at all about Chapter 7. I liked seeing the apprentice training being like, at least marginally different than Thunderclan's but also It Sucked Bad Chapter Moving On.

5. Is there a passage that stuck in your mind–for good, or not-so-good reasons? What is it, and why did it stand out? Try breaking it down and analysing what this passage does and how.

S. I actually had a nice time reading about Plumclaw and Tallkit interacting. She was talking him through having his first mouse, I think, and it was genuinely sweet and moving in a way that Erin Hunter's writing almost never is. There was a legit connection and for a moment, I actually believed in these characters as people who lived together and actually have relationships and care. That’s really what I’m about, so it was a pleasant surprise to find in this book.

K. I have two brief passages for different reasons: “He’s my son,” Sandgorse snarled. “I’ll decide his future.” Heatherstar stiffened. “I decide the future of my warriors.” LOVE Heatherstar showing the fuck up. Absolute legend. K. “Tallkit heard worry in her mew. “Is that why we tunnel under the moor?” he asked. “To hide from the dead warriors in other Clans?” — First tunnelling mention! The idea of Windclan taking shelter from/expertly evading the ghosts of their enemies because of their speed is honestly pretty fun, but I don’t trust the Erins with it one bit. K. This kind of legend is something I think I'd much prefer in like, a Watership Down style myth or story? K. But not if Erin's touching it. S. I was like, "oh this is the sickest thing you've ever--no no no no no" K. (oh, and just for fun, one of my other fave quotes was Dawnstripe saying "We guard the edge of the world." That felt cool.)

6. What themes did you notice in these chapters? What motifs or repeated symbolism/description appeared to you?

K. Love is a big one, obvs. K. Also, lots of stories and storytelling? Which feels just like Erin slapping more bullshit in here but like, that feels kinda relevant.

S. I struggled to find cohesive themes in this chunk, except I think division? The division between the tunnellers and moor runners, between Tallpaw and his mum, between Heatherstar and her clan. That's really what popped for me.

K. Oh, and like... expectations. The clan's expectations of Heatherstar, Sandgorse's of Tallpaw, Tallpaw's expectations for himself.

7. How do you feel about the characters, their motivation, their choices?

K. They're like. Not the worst? Lots of them fucking suck, as usual. But I'm at least very happy that I actually want to see Tallpaw succeed and grow. Also Heatherstar and Dawnstripe and Barkpaw are great.

S. I like Tallpaw! That's a lot of projection on my part, but I've found him a lot less grating than Bluepaw (who I also wanted to love). S. One of my first major aggravations in the early chapters is Shrewpaw. He's unbearable, and what makes him so is the one-note bullying. It's the equivalent of reading someone go, "I'm not touching you," in an annoying voice for nine chapters, which I feel is another example of Erin Hunter's habit of repetition. There was less of that in this book than BP, but I still counted a few instances of cats having the same conversation a few times. S. The other cat I can't stand is Sandgorse. My god. That moment when he tells his literal infant son to go cheer up his depressed mother made me just about scream. S. “Go cheer up your mother, child” GO CHEER UP YOUR WIFE, HUSBAND

K. This is where it's gonna get interesting, because I think my fucking senses were dulled by how much Erin fucked up dads last time, because I didn't hate him off the hop!

S. To me, he smacks of a lowkey toxic masculinity. And the kind of emotional manipulation he does makes me [narrow eyes]. S. (I didn't take very good notes about this bit, because I forgot. I only have "Sandgorse is such a loser" but I trust past me's judgement).

K. I strongly do think that my impression of Sandgorse is different if only because I think I was so tired at seeing all the non-existent dads in Bluestar's Prophecy that the fact that he actually has conversations with his son and wife for more than like, a sentence, made me go "Oh thank god" And maybe this too is a bit of a projection, but I sort of initially saw him as like... that well-meaning dad who tries to be nice but still manages to fuck up and not actually listen to what people need at all. Like, the classic stupid dad in a bad TV movie who has A Dream for his kid. Where he doesn't mean to be an asshole, he just thinks he's right and that his kid agrees with him because Why Wouldn't He. So I think I took a lot of his dialogue and actions to be a bit more well-meaning-but-still-not-great rather than fully toxic. Obviously it doesn't end well for anyone, but I guess I've just seen too many father figures go around with nice intentions who have absolutely Zero ability at reading a room let alone their kids

S. I think for me, that is the problem. And I think I am less forgiving towards it.

K. Stormtail [Bluestar’s father, Bluestar’s Prophecy] feels like more of the asshole dad, to me, but like. They're both different brands of Not Good.

S. Stormtail is super just a complete prick, no doubt. I think Sandgorse is more engaged with his kid, for sure. But I think it's a very hollow engagement, because he denies everything about Tallpaw's actual personality and desires and just sees him as an extension of himself to control. Which is sort of parental abuse 101.

K. Oh, and while we're discussing them: Palebird huh. Again, Erins, can't write a woman, but like. I don't know, I think that like... she felt like a neat character for the first chapter and now they're doing their Bad Things with her by making her boring and Just Sad and kind of useless in the background for them to mess with and probably kill off later. Like, she doesn't have a whole lot of personality, but she could. S. I think I'd like all the characters more if I spent less time with them. Like, I think for me, the pace is too slow, the dialogue is too long, and because of that, I get bored and annoyed with the characters. Whereas I think if it was only a couple of chapters, forcing the dialogue to be more punchy and illuminating of their character, and less mired in sadness (Palebird) or digging stupid holes (Sandgorse) or bullying (Shrewpaw), I'd have a lot more fun. But as it stands, Palebird starts talking and I start zoning out because they've really done her so dirty in this.

8. If you could ask any character in this section a question, what question would you ask them?

K. Heatherstar: How does it feel to be the baddest bitch in the room at any given moment K. Palebird: Why the FUCK are you with this bastard K. Sandgorse: WHY are you LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

S. Barkpaw: what is it about learning medicine that you love? Or.... Barkpaw: how did you decide to give up your future with others, for a future in medicine? What was that decision like?

K. A more serious question from me, hehe: Tallpaw - If no one was watching, what would make you happiest to do or say? K. Shrewpaw: What about yourself do you feel most inadequate about? What part of that drives you to act towards others like you do?

S. Shrewpaw: what's your fucking damage, buddy?

9. In your opinion, what is “world-building” and how important is it to you as a reader (or writer)? How do you feel about the world-building of these chapters so far? If you could, would you change anything, and what would you change?

S. Oh, I hate it. S. What's hilarious is that for maybe the first time ever Erin Hunter is putting effort in. You can see how hard they're working to make tunnelling sound "cool" or relevant, how they're describing all these tunnel-related skills and techniques the way they do with fighting or whatever. S. And the irony is it's such a wasted effort because personally? Could not care less. This world-building enraptures me none amount and I spend the whole time scoffing like, sure Jan.

K. One of my notes off the hop is: "I know that Erin’s trying to like… make Windclan look unique by adding these new positions, but just labelling some warriors as “moor runners” doesn’t cut it. Their job is: “hunting and patrolling the borders”. That’s just? An average warrior thing to do? It’s not special, and naming it something fancy doesn’t make me feel like you’re actually adding anything to Windclan’s mythology here." Which is really just tunnel adjacent, but it's still relevant.

K. Other choice tunneling notes: "...Listen, I get it, inter-clan conflict is wonderful. But WHY do the moor runners and tunnellers hate each other? If the tunnels are so important to Windclan’s way of life, SURELY the above-ground warriors would feel respect for them? And if Windclan holds such value in their tunnels (Palebird literally just said that the tunnels mean they’re “stronger and cleverer” than the other clans), then WHY would Windclan cats hate them for it?? To have this weird seemingly generational distrust between the two castes is just. Fucking bananas." k. "Hey Erin: Why introduce the tunnellers at all if you keep putting them down and saying how much worse it would be to be one. What’s the point."

S. “I'm still not over the fact they're [Erin Hunter] like... "what can we do to make Windclan, the clan who famous won't even build nests because they like to live under the stars, special and different from the rest... oh I fucking know."

K. "Why is no one in charge in this clan that’s been a tunneller?? Heatherstar and Reedfeather just… fully don’t understand tunnelling and tunnellers needs?? If I were making this system, I’d have it be mandatory that the leader and deputy have to be one from either caste." S. Why not just ban it already. S. I mean, the book tries so hard to convince us tunnelling is useful. I believe none of it.

K. ALSO why don't the tunnelers b a t h e K. "They're permanently soiled with dirt and soot" DO THEY BATHE??? DO THEY?? WHY DO YOU HATE THIS NEW CASTE THAT YOU SEEM TO LOVE? K. Erin Hunter: look at my cool new worldbuilding set! I'm going to shit on it for an entire book

K. Like. I'm having a hard time pinpointing what I would do better, but like... I think I want it to feel 1) more cohesive and believable. 2) It needs to be useful and cement this clan as a group of living, working people. It has to make some kind of sense (to an extent) but also have a purpose! 3) sometimes worldbuilding doesn't need to be "uhh they need more jobs" sometimes it can be "we have this myth about running faster than the ghosts of our enemies" and that's just as successful if you do it right. Like, Erin thought you needed to entirely overhaul Windclan and make them Different to make them better. Instead of working with what's already there!

S. I personally feel it doesn't take much to make the clans really different from each other, and it's more the subtle things that make huge differences, not--like you said--more jobs or anything. Really don't want to blow my own horn, but like, to use the chapter I just wrote as an example: just by making elders vote to make major decisions alters the clan significantly. That's just one thing, that's putting different emphasis and a new swing on a preexisting facet of every clan. But immediately you get the effect and it has run-on effects too, which is what good world-building should do. It should be hard to remove any one piece without the whole castle crashing down. And this book is basically about how removing one “major” piece (tunnelling) effectively didn’t change anything, really. K. It just doesn't feel right to me! It's too big a change to feel natural, let alone how fucking bad it is.

K. And like, honestly, the Erins even did okay with just highlighting the territory and environmental differences! I've read all the different fucking ways they can write a forest after 30 books and they really have written them all. Even just making THAT a focal point helped to make this book feel somewhat distinct and fresh!

S. One of my long-standing gripes with Erin Hunter is that their environments are boring and basic and they need way more close detail on plants and whatnot but that is a personal preference, and not actually a flaw. Although admittedly, if you do spend time making an environment interesting, it turns out that becomes a reason to read and a pleasure, instead of something you have to trudge through to get to the Actually Good Bits. But that's not what they're about and I can acknowledge that, if not respect it.

Extra notes:

S. [Sandgorse’s] basically the dad equivalent of a pageant mum? K. Yeah! K. Sports Dads are just Pageant Mom Regional Variants. S. Oh my god.

K. The story isn't about [Palebird] and at this point it just feels kind of sad to have her onscreen. S. Yeah, I get the feeling she exists to make Tallstar feels unloved, basically. K. Which sucks! S. "Your mum likes your dead sibling more" is uhh a brutal way to tell a story, Erin.

K. For one: Barkpaw is... the best cat S. YES S. My boy. K. The Erins only know three medicine cats: Softe, Don't Fucking Touch Me, or The Only Reasonable Gay

K. 1) “Tallpaw swallowed a purr. “No racing, I promise. No having fun whatsoever on the dawn patrol.” I Love Him. 2) Dawnstripe seems nice and I think she and Stonepelt need to be friends. 3) I loved Tallpaw's little chase sequence and how clever he is :>

S. I just can't get over how much it breaks my suspension of disbelief to imagine cats digging. S. Of all things. S. I can tolerate the bullshit fighting better than I can believe cats digging with any efficiency whatsoever. K. They remind me of the Meerkats from Lion King 1/2. K. And I. K. Despise. K. That film. S. Windclan: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U76zyUFg3Xo K. PLEASE END MY SUFFERING

K. I think what pisses me off about [Shrewpaw] the most, sidebar, is that he's like this from the start. Who is teaching him this??? Who is raising this little monster boy???? Who in Windclan is just? rearing xenophobes???? S. Like, he's newly born and walking around being a little fascist. S. And no-one is doing anything about it! All the adults are like, "huh, yeah, kids, am I right?" K. He isn't even as cool as Thistleclaw! He's just a little mean weasel boy! S. Sandgorse is literally like, "yeah that little weak moor runner punk child, what a coward, scared of getting sand in his eyes." Like, that's not the right response At All. K. EVERYONE IS SO RACIST ALL THE TIME SEND TWEET S. And none of the moor runners are being like, "hey stop calling him wormcat, his name is Tallpaw and he's your clanmate." S. Additional sidebar: Shrewpaw calling Tallpaw "wormcat" is my favourite thing in the book. S. It's like if I walked up to a nerd I didn't like and was just like, "lol wormboy." S. Devastating. K. RIGHT S. It's so funny. I was literally there like, "okay this is bad behaviour, Shrewpaw, that's not the right way to act, but also? fucking hilarious." K. It was funny at the start and now that it's his Thing it's even more funny. Like you can't think of anything better to say that you keep invoking the "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" goof at all hours. S. It kind of reminded me of the time I was teaching and I had to put a ban on the word "Elmo" because the kids kept basically making it a slur on each other, but it was also the funniest thing and it was SO HARD not to fucking lose it. S. Me, being a good teacher: "All right, that's enough, no-one is allowed to call anyone else 'Elmo' anymore." S. Me on the inside: [dying]

#ailuronymy book club #tallstar's revenge

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nadziejastar · 5 years

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I'm thoroughly enjoying the LeaIsa discourse, especially Isa possibly having been subject X in perhaps another canon. Isa's symbolism's also seem intentionally feminine in nature. I've head-cannoned that the current subject X in game could have somehow had her heart spirited away into Isa's (mirroring Sora and Kairi's situation, except the heart being far more buried in the depth's of Isa's). An unlikely scenario is that Isa was AFAB as a child and even Lea doesn't know about it or remember.

Lea: The Wounded Healer

Thank you! Yeah, everything about Isa’s symbolism is feminine in nature. And very intentionally so, LOL. He’s the Yin to Lea’s Yang; the Moon to his Sun. I love the whole concept, and I wish it wasn’t so taboo to step outside of gender boxes. The mythology is that Twin Flames separate and go through many lifetimes apart, never meeting in person. Over the reincarnation cycle, the two lovers balance their masculine and feminine sides so that they are both perfectly balanced. And I do think Lea is a very balanced character in that regard. I’m sure Isa was, too. During their final lifetime in the reincarnation cycle, Twin Flames finally reunite and change the world with their divine spiritual love.

I cannot imagine there’s any other explanation than Isa originally being Subject X. It simply makes way too much sense, and all the pieces fit perfectly. Your head canon is interesting. I prefer that over canon where Isa and Lea are apprentices and had NO connection to the experiments on the darkness of the heart. That just makes no sense at all. They could have had another girl involved without taking away from Lea and Isa’s tragic backstory. Another reason I like Isa being Subject X is that he would need healing, and Lea would need to give him a “birth by sleep”. KH3 kinda forgot about that whole concept. But there’s a lot of evidence that it was supposed to be a HUGE aspect of Lea’s character arc. Would have been a lot more rewarding to see than what he did in canon.

Stuff like this is exactly why Lea and Isa are my favorite characters. I can tell the writers had a hard on for them, too. Nomura really loved Axel, after all. Axel has a weapon called Prometheus which incorporates the Sagittarius symbol, and so do the vast majority of Saïx’s weapons. Moreover, the arrow is mainly prominent in Saïx’s Berserk form, which is where I think his captured heart resides. Now, why is this symbol so important? Because Sagittarius is Chiron, the Wounded Healer! He gave up his immortality for Prometheus, and was rewarded with immortality in the stars!

More About Sagittarius

Yen Sid: “I must warn you again–the road will not be easy.”

Lea: “Fine. Let’s jump right in.”

Ruled by Jupiter, the planet of growth and opportunity, the sign of the Archer is an eternal student, looking for enlightenment through new ideas, people, and places. Sagittarius is on the hunt for the biggest, best experiences life has to offer. They have a positive and outgoing personality that makes them the life of any party. With a love of adventure and all things exotic, the worldly Archer just wants to soak it all in. Sagittarius is driven by a constant need to explore and expand its mind, heart, and awareness to the fullest extent. Fiery and free, Sagittarius knows that the only limits are the ones we create ourselves.

Chiron: The Wounded Healer

Naminé: “And if the hurt is too great for you to bear it alone–well, then you turn to a friend close to your heart.”

Wounded healer is a term created by psychologist Carl Jung. The idea states that an analyst is compelled to treat patients because the analyst himself is “wounded”. For Jung, “it is his own hurt that gives a measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician.”

Chiron was in outstanding pain and anguish; there was no medication that would ease the infliction. The fact was, even the gifted physician Chiron couldn’t heal himself. The next problem was that Chiron was in torment but, immortal. Chiron was not able to obtain freedom from the pain with the onset of death. In such a scenario, Chiron volunteered himself as a replacement for Prometheus, who had been penalized by the gods for giving fire to humankind; His punishment was to be enchained to a giant stone. Day-after-day an aquila descended and polished off his liver, which grew once more as it got dark …only to be consumed by the eagle once again.

So in essence, Chiron forfeited his eternal life so man could have use of fire. Hercules had been appealing to Zeus (Jupiter) for help, and Hercules agreed to supply an appropriate replacement for Prometheus, thereby setting him free. Thus, Chiron replaced Prometheus, gave up eternity, and went to Tartarus (the Underworld) in Prometheus’ stead. Zeus witnessed everything that happened and he knew how deplorable his son Hercules felt. Zeus afforded the dear Centaur a resting place in the heavens, as the constellation Sagittarius the Archer, in recognition of his benevolence and perpetuity.

Chiron and Artemis

Axel: “Why do I always get stuck with the icky jobs?”

Saïx has a weapon called Artemis, after the moon goddess. Artemis has a relationship to Chiron. Centaurs were notorious for being wild, lusty, overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, violent when intoxicated, and generally uncultured delinquents. Chiron, by contrast, was intelligent, civilized and kind, because he was not related directly to the other centaurs due to his parentage. Soon after giving birth to Chiron, his mother abandoned him out of shame and disgust. Chiron, effectively orphaned, was later found by the god Apollo, who decided to take him in as his son.

Apollo taught to him the art of music, lyre, archery, medicine and prophecy. Apollo’s twin sister, Artemis taught him more about archery and hunting. Chiron’s uniquely peaceful character, kindness and intelligence is attributed to Apollo and Artemis. Artemis only loved one man, Orion. She killed him by accident after being tricked into thinking the he was a villain who had attacked one of her priestesses. Orion, whilst swimming to escape a giant scorpion, is killed by Artemis’ arrows after the goddess could only see his distant bobbing head and failed to recognize the hunter. Artemis tried to bring Orion back to life, but was unable. It was Artemis’ regret at the loss of her hunting companion which allowed him to become a constellation and gain immortality amongst the stars.

Sagittarius Mythology also figures in the tale of Orion. One Greek mythology tale tells of how Sagittarius the Archer was directed to shoot down Scorpio the Scorpion, which had been sent off to murder Orion. This story gives the reason why the Archer’s arrow is aimed toward the ‘heart of the scorpion’.

Friendship

Ven: “Already?”

Lea: “I’ll see ya when I see ya. After all, we’re friends now. Get it memorized.”

Ven: “Okay, Lea.”

Sagittarius make excellent friends because of their encouraging, positive nature and their kind heart that will do anything to make sure the friend is happy. They do not expect favors in return; their kindness is selfless. They do not interfere with other people’s plans and they are never possessive or jealous. They treat others the way they want to be treated and live life based on a ‘live and let live’ policy, making them very agreeable. They are excellent conversationalists with a good sense of humor. Sometimes their humor is the raw truth, but these people speak their mind and don’t hold anything back. What they say is what they mean. They do not like mind games; they like straightforwardness and expect it in return.

Axel: “C'mon, let’s get some ice cream.”

Roxas: “Why?”

Axel: “Whaddaya mean, why? Because we’re friends.”

Roxas: “So…friends are people who have ice cream together?”

Axel: “Sort of… That, or laugh at stupid stuff that doesn’t make any sense. Like those kids we just saw–they were friends. C'mon, I’ll show you how it works.”

Sagittarius are known for saying the ‘painful truth’. On the other hand, people know that they can trust what they say because they always say what is real. They never hide anything and are very likable people. The only people that might not get along with them are people that live by a daily agenda with a highly structured, organized life. They are likely to always be running late and miss a date, but this is only because they are so forward thinking that they forget about the present. Tolerance is required. They do not do these things on purpose; this is just who they are. If you understand this and accept this, having a Sagittarius in your life will make the sun shine a lot brighter.

Axel: “Best friends are willing to deal with complications.”

Wise and understanding Sagittarius is connected to the Temperance Tarot card. The gentle process of tempering is about finding a perfect middle state, and combining the best of all things to forge something that is stronger than the sum of its parts. By bringing the power of the philosophical world into their physical world, Sagittarius makes itself a source of ultimate truth and awareness.

Both Sagittarius and the Temperance card are constantly striving for a more enlightened state of being. The angel in the Tarot card here demonstrates this by slowly pouring the liquid from one golden cup into another – a process called “tempering” (a slow process of integration that leads to the perfect middle state). Similarly, Sagittarius accomplishes this by exploring the far reaches of both the physical and philosophical world to expand on or “temper” what is already known. The symbols of Temperance mean the following:

Angel: Interacting with the material world while maintaining a sense of spirituality and higher purpose.

Triangle: Interplay of masculine and feminine or spirituality and materiality.

Cups: The fountain of energy between your opposite tendencies, which is flowing and spontaneous yet also balanced and coherent.

Path: Taking your time through life’s twists and turns; being content in the moment or throughout unexpected obstacles.

Water: Groundedness and refreshment through spiritual thinking.

Mountains: The distant journeys awaiting you that will bring you to spiritual fulfillment.

Sun: The sun, also appearing as the angel’s third eye, represents the merging of personal aims with the universe’s plans for you.

Fire Wings: Muscles and strength necessary to maintain composure and reach a higher being state.

The Angel

Axel: “As long as we remember each other, we’ll never be apart. Got it memorized?”

The Angel’s beautiful, red wings represent blood or life, while the triangle on her dress means spirit – also the elemental symbol for fire. And, similar to adventurous Sagittarius, the angel’s feet are also symbolic of the eternal pilgrimage or spiritual journey. By showing one foot in the water and the other on the shore we are reminded that our greatest wisdom lies in the art of balancing. And lastly, the iris flowers are indicative of the Goddess Iris who provides the link between God and humanity. Like Sagittarius, she travels from one end of the world to another – building upon something that is bigger and brighter than herself.

In a general context, the Temperance Tarot card represents coolness in the face of shifting emotional tides. Temperance is the ability to control one’s temper or temperament. In Thailand there is a concept called “cool heart.” In this phrase, cool does not mean cruel and unemotional. Rather, to act with a “cool heart” means that one is not easily stirred or provoked to go off the handle; one does not quickly come to a raging boil but maintains a steady temperature despite shifting external circumstances. Similarly, Temperance stands with one foot in a cool stream and pours water from one cup into another. Temperance knows how to direct the water in a way that maintains homeostasis.

The 7 of Swords

Lea: “And if the darkness gets ya, I promise I’ll bail you out. “Dark Rescue” is my middle name.”

Axel’s weapon “Prometheus” is Lift Gear. This is the same gear that the Temperance Arcana in Luxord’s deck is listed under. Coincidence? I think not. Luxord’s card has the shape of the Minor Arcana, The 7 of Swords. In general, this card is said to be about betrayal and deception. It is sometimes called the ‘Thief’ card. In a general context, it represents deception, lies, trickery, cheating and lack of conscience. This card also signifies mental manipulation, tactics, scheming, cunning, enemies who masquerade as friends and spies in your camp. It represents escaping detection and getting away with something.

On a more positive note, the 7 of Swords points out that you need to be strategic in what you do. It can also represent flexibility, adaptability, sharp wit, and resourcefulness. You know you cannot do everything at once – nor should you. Instead, you must prioritize what’s important to you and direct your focus and attention on the few tasks that will move you closer to your goals. When this card is seen in a reading, the deception is usually short lived. Nobody is able to carry away 7 swords and get away with it. So although the party may feel smug about it at the time, it’s about to blow up in their face.

Sagittarius’ Ruling Planet: Jupiter

Lea: “I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people’s memories, I can live forever.”

Isa: “I know I won’t forget you. Believe me, I try all the time.”

Lea: “See, I’m immortal!”

Larger-than-life Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, the planet of luck and expansion. In Roman mythology, Jupiter was the king of the gods, the biggest and the best. In Astrology Jupiter is known as the “benefic” planet, meaning it is the luckiest, most opportunistic planet of all. This positive energy influences Sagittarius’ optimistic, enlightening, and outgoing nature that shines and spreads through anyone they come into contact with. As the largest planet in our cosmos, Jupiter’s vastness encourages Sagittarius to stretch its mind and heart as far as it can.

Sagittarius’ Symbol: The Archer

Xigbar: “You’re not supposed to be here!”

Lea: “Promises to keep. I’ll always be there to get my friends back. What, bad timing? You had your perfect little script, but you kinda forgot to write the sequel. Now, let’s find out what happens!”

The zodiac sign Sagittarius is associated with the Archer, and its glyph represents an arrow. Always eager to explore new horizons, the Archer sets its sights on a faraway target, then shoots toward it with precision. This focus on learning more, doing more, and seeing more is what Sagittarius is all about.

Ruled by expansive Jupiter, Sagittarius is big-hearted, open, and always looking beyond a checklist. A Sagittarius rarely has a “type.” They are always intrigued by the individual, and don’t make any assumptions about people until they’ve truly met and spoken with them. Sagittarius loves witty back and forth banter. A Sagittarius in love is a sight to behold. Aggressively fun, this sign usually moves full speed ahead once they have their love target ‘locked’.

Selene

Ventus: “I remember dreaming a lot. Of you and Terra. Of Sora and his friends too, I think. And there were some more people I didn’t recognize. Oh, and I saw these weird animal creatures! It’s like…I’ve been part of some big adventure.”

Saïx has a weapon named Selene, after the chaste Greek Moon goddess. It’s shaped like a torch. Selene’s torch has an interesting role in art and history. Selene was taken with Endymion, a beautiful youth who tended his flocks on Mount Latmos. She accompanied Cupid and used the light of the torch to gaze upon the mortal she fell in love with while he slept.

Girodet’s “The Sleep of Endymion” shows the moment that Cupid parts the trees so the Moon may shine her light down upon her sleeping lover’s face. Only at night when he is asleep does she quietly creep down to him, accompanied by Cupid, whose torch symbolizes burning love.

In a Roman floor mosaic from the third century CE, the scene focuses on the moment when Selene falls in love with the young mortal shepherd. Cupid, in the upper right corner, points down at Endymion as if guiding Selene’s gaze towards him. Selene steps out of her bull-drawn biga that she uses to pull the moon across the sky each night, and raises a lit torch that illuminates Endymion’s face in the darkness. She peers down at him longingly. Endymion is fast asleep and unaware of her presence. She was so in love that she asked Zeus to give Endymion immortal life.

Sagittarius’ Ruling House: 9th House of Expansion

Roxas: “I found out about love on today’s mission–that it’s something powerful.”

Axel: “That’s true. It is. But I’ll never get to experience it.”

As the 9th sign in the zodiac, Sagittarius rules over the 9th House of Expansion. This house reveals how open our minds are, and how much we expand ourselves through education, exploration, and life lessons. From philosophical conversations to book research to world travel, the 9th house encourages you to go further than you’ve ever gone before. Sagittarius’ drive for adventure, growth, and awareness is strongly represented here.

When Venus is in Sagittarius

Axel: “Love is what happens if there’s something really special between two people.”

Saïx’s weapon Horoscope incorporates the Venus and Sagittarius symbols while in its Berserk form. So, the astrological correspondence is Venus in Sagittarius. Venus is the planet of love, self-worth, and all things beautiful. Her style is sweet, cooperative, and peaceful. But when this graceful planet’s energy mixes with the free-spirited sign of Sagittarius, her joyful side comes out to play. Hearts come out of hiding while Venus moves through Sagittarius. The happy and free energy of Sagittarius turns Venus up a few notches, encouraging us to live life to the fullest. This is a time to socialize, to try new things, and to look for love in different places.

Sagittarius is the sign of the adventurer, so when Venus is traveling through this sign, we find ourselves drawn to exotic people, places, and experiences. Old routines and worn-out relationships are at risk of being traded in for something bigger, brighter, and better while Venus is in Sagittarius. We want to expand beyond our usual boundaries, and may give up some of our comfortable patterns of the past to try out new experiences. Love needs to grow during this transit – it will not stand still.

Sagittarius’ Element: Fire

No. VIII AXEL—An assassin who puts his own agenda first, and everything else on the back burner. Wields fire.

The zodiac sign Sagittarius is a Fire sign that lights up our lives with profound questions and exciting ideas. Just like an uncontrollable wildfire, this sign will happily go where the wind takes them to seek new experiences. Sagittarius uses its Fire energy on its lifelong journey of exploration, always ready to jump at the next adventure. The element of Fire continues to fuel Sagittarius’ never ending supply of optimism and inspiration.

The Goddess Hestia: The Keeper of the Flame

Axel: “Well, I think you can be inseparable, even if you’re apart. It’s like, if you feel really close to each other. Like best friends.”

Saïx’s weapons Moonrise and Moonset are shaped like ⚶ the astrological symbol for the asteroid Vesta, also known as Hestia in Greek mythology. Her name means “the essence”, the true nature of things. Hestia was the Greek Goddess of the sacred fire. She was the most influential and widely revered of the goddesses. She was was one of the three ‘virgin’ goddesses, next to Athena and Artemis. Hestia was depicted as a beautiful and bashful woman, usually seated. The living flame of Hestia was tended constantly and never allowed to die out, for it represented the energy of all life.

Hestia was a kind goddess and had a discrete character. She never left her residence, the sacred mountain of Olympus. She never involved herself in the fights and machinations of the other gods and goddesses, somehow managing to stay above the fray. Non-judgmental and forgiving, her unconditional love and calm acceptance inspired the love and trust of others in return. Dependable and caring, she was always there for them and helped them to manage their lives, which were certainly more exciting than her own. These virtues define the goddess Hestia: mild, gentle, forgiving, peaceful, serene, dignified, calm, secure, stable, welcoming, and, above all else, well-centered.

Sagittarius’ Color: Purple

Axel: “You know, I’ve been thinking about something Naminé said. Roxas…are you really sure that you don’t have a heart? Is it possible that we all have one? You, me, her… Or is that just wishful thinking?”

Rich and luscious purple is the color of Sagittarius. Purple is a color of abundance, which encourages Sagittarius’ natural luck and its drive to expand its mind and world. The color purple is also associated with spirituality and enlightenment, empowering Sagittarius’ philosophical explorations and lifelong quest for knowledge.

The Sun

Axel: “Hey, Roxas. Bet you don’t know why the sun sets red. You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.”

Roxas: “Like I asked! Know-it-all.”

Saïx’s weapons Orbit and Lunar Phase incorporate the Sagittarius symbol with the combined stars of Ishtar and Shamash. There’s also a Recusant’s sigil visible over the Sun symbol. The Sun, the giver of life, represents our conscious mind in astrology. It represents our will to live and our creative life force. Just as the planets revolve around the Sun in our solar system, we derive our life purpose from the Sun in our natal charts. The Sun is our ego. It is the part of us that reasons things out, and makes final decisions. The Sun is our basic identity, and represents self-realization. The Sun also represents our overall vitality. The happiest people on this earth are those who identify with the Sun’s expression.

Sagittarius’ Quality: Mutable

Axel: “Let’s meet again in the next life.”

Roxas: “Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”

As the last sign of autumn, Sagittarius helps us celebrate one last hoorah as fall comes to a close and the season of hibernation begins. Sagittarius, with a love for variety and change, uses its Mutable energy to shake the fiery radiance off the leaves and allow them to fall. As winter approaches, this Fire sign keeps us going by fueling our desire for adventure and fun, and helps us remain optimistic that light and warmth will return again.

#kh meta #kh axel #kh lea #leaisa #isalea #akusai #kingdom hearts meta #kingdom hearts

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darling-i-read-it · 6 years

Text

Homework

Billy Hargrove x reader

Word Count: 1959

Warnings: cuss words, near sexual encounter but nothing really

Author’s Note: Songs Without Words!! I am no way excusing Billy’s racist and stupid behavior btw he’s still a crappy person but I wanna assume he’ll get better.

Summary: Billy’s in love with his science partner and needs to get with her ASAP.

Genre: FLUUFFF

Song: Head over heels by tears for fears

Billy’s Playlist

(not my gif)

Billy Hargrove didn’t fall in love with anybody. He didn’t long for someone’s presence or voice or hair or legs.

Legs maybe.

But nothing else. He was cold, he was a fuck and forget kind of guy. He was in no way ever going to be the kind of guy who ‘settled down and had a nice life’. He was bound to dropout of high school, work on cars and pick up chicks for the rest of his life.

Until he met you. You were a problem. You were stopping him from fulfilling his high school dropout prophecy and he didn’t like that. In fact he hated that.

But he couldn’t bring it in himself to hate you.

That made him angrier though.

Because you were just another girl.

But you weren’t. And that pissed him off.

You were with your friends, just chatting about life and it’s times and Billy was watching from afar. He had science with you, second period and he made a point every morning not to skip that class although he made a different excuse to himself each time.

It’s my lowest grade He didn’t care. He didn’t even know if it was.

I need to intimidate Harrington. Who wasn’t in that class with him.

Dad would kill me if I skipped. The truest one of the bunch to say the least. His dad would have his head if he skipped. Not that Billy really cared much, no matter how much it hurt when he got drunk.

But each was a cover for the fact that he just really needed to see his science partner. You. You treated him like just another person, a guy in the class as any other and although he hated that you dismissed his flirting for ‘just being a guy’ he loved the fact that you didn’t really care.

It crossed his mind once that you liked girls and the thought made his heart lurch with fear. Although he asked a friend of your friend and confirmed you were in fact, into dudes.

Today was another science class day which made him happy. He had science every other day so when he realized today was a good day he trotted into school, promptly as the bell for second period rang. He sat across from you as usual and you gave him a smile that you hoped showed that you were in a good mood today.

Truth be told you were nowhere near in a good mood. You were in a crappy mood, your first period math class being more horrible than it usually was. Somehow Billy saw right through you.

“What’s up princess?” he asked. You shook your head and tried another smile.

“Nothing’s wrong Billy I don’t know where you’d get that id-”

“What’s wrong Y/N?” he tried again. You sighed and slumped your shoulders.

“Math class. You know usual not understanding things,” you confined. Billy smiled his winning smile at you.

“Actually I don’t. I don’t go to math class.” You rolled your eyes.

“I forgot. You only go to science. Am I really just that charming?” you joked.

Yes.

“Sure sweetheart,” he confessed subtly. “Maybe I just like blowing things up.” This gave you a laugh and he cherished in the laugh.

“I think it’s me. I’ll be honest. And don’t worry I won’t tell anyone you’ve broken your hard earned facade for me,” you joked again. He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you want.” The class started then and the teacher had to pull Billy’s eyes from you several times. You thankfully didn’t seem to notice that so he just kept staring. Just before class ended Billy tried his luck.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after you poured in some pink liquid in the beaker. The class was packing up but you needed to take some final notes before leaving. Billy strayed with you. You eyed him out of the corner of your vision and a smile crept on your face.

“Studying for the test in two days,” you mused. He nodded. Dammit why was he so nervous!

“In this class?” he asked. You nodded as you wrote something down in the notebook. You shared it which was a strategy for studying later but personally you loved it. Your handwriting mixed with Billy’s was so pleasing to you for some reason. Your doodles mixed with his during the lectures of class.

“Yeah you didn’t get that memo when you were staring at me,” you joked. Billy put a toothpick in between his teeth.

“Maybe I could come over and help? Or maybe you could help me considering you are the one who who keeps me always distracted.” You laughed.

“Sorry I’m so pretty. Maybe you should try Nancy though. She’d help you,” you told him. You were playing hard to get and he knew this. You knew he knew this.

“Hey but you’re my gorgeous science partner. Shouldn’t I be sharing the notes with you anyway? They do help with studying,” he mocked you. It was what you had told him when you suggested the idea. You sighed. “There’s no point in fighting me and you know it doll,” he slurred and you knew, deep down that he was right.

“Alright okay sure. But only one night okay?”

“Your house at 9 then?” he asked as he stood. You grabbed the notebook and wiped down the table.

“Here’s the address,” you told him absentmindedly and scribbled it in the notebook, shoving it in his arms. “Don’t be late and don’t flirt with my mom when she opens the door,” you said. He smiled and winked at you, walking away.

“No promises!”

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous about tonight. You had a major crush on your science partner and seeing him alone might be bad. You weren’t bad at hiding it when you were with others but being alone with Billy Hargrove and his cologne was going to be a problem you just knew it.

You refused to be one of those girls who just slept with him but he was so goddamn appealing sometimes. All the time.

9 o’clock rolled around very slowly. You drew and read a bit but your mind refused to focus on a simple task. How were you going to study? Billy knocked at the door at exactly 9 and to your dismay, your father answered. You would have been better with him flirting with your mom and not being interrogated by your dad. Billy had a toothpick hanging loosely from his teeth as he smiled charmingly at your dad who was not having it.

“Oh no thank you sir you can go right back to where you came fro-”

“Dad,” you hissed angrily. He just looked at you and shook his head.

“No way you are not having him in your bedroom alone I won’t let it happen,” he sneered. Billy feigned hurt as you glanced at him and you fought a smile but both boys saw right through.

“With all do respect Mr. Y/L/N, I have nothing but pure intentions with your daughter. Just some studying.” Billy tried his hardest to say this with as much innocence as he could he really did.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” You hit him on the arm.

“Dad do you trust me?”

“Yes but I do not trust hairspray here,” he confessed. You rolled your eyes.

“Well I wanna pass the test so I’m gonna just have to either drag Billy upstairs or I’ll just go out to his car. Unsupervised. Maybe we’ll drive around a bit, head to dinner, to the hill, to the woods…”

“You know I’m starting to like my car better,” Billy commented just as your father tried to stop you. He looked incredibly conflicted.

“Upstairs then. Go, door open. Y/N if anything happens then-” You ignored him and grabbed Billy’s arm, dragging him up the stairs.

“Hmm eager are we?” You scoffed and hit him as you walked into your room you had just cleaned. Billy looked around for a moment at the posters of bands and your choice of bedspread with an amused smile.

“When your done can we get started? Where’s the notebook?” you asked, grabbing the lab book. Billy looked down at his jacket and hands like he was surprised.

“Darn must have slipped my mind,” he said. You groaned.

“Billy!” He shrugged and sat on your bed beside you. He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his lighter, blowing the smoke out into the air. You groaned again. “You’re insufferable,” you told him.

“Then why do you wanna kiss me so bad?”

This caught you off guard. You were flustered and fumbling on your words. But you really did want to kiss him. Really really bad.

This caught him off guard. Why had he said that? He was going to ruin his chances with you!

“Maybe being intolerable is appealing to me,” you breathed. You were surprised you had said anything, unsure quite where that had some from. Billy was unaware you had that in you either.

Hot.

“As I recall you called it insufferable,” he told you, facing you. You were standing and he was sitting and he did, he looked so damn kissable.

“I don’t hear much studying up there!” your dad’s voice rang but you ignored it, keeping your eye contact with the man in front of you. You pushed the door shut with your heel and lunged yourself toward Billy, locking lips and you swear, in that moment everything felt perfect.

And Billy was having a field day. You had kissed him. How did he get that to happen? He wasn’t quite sure but he knew he didn’t want it to stop.

You kept coming back for air and then diving back into it. His hands wandered around your body ranging largely from your hair to your back.

That was soon diminished however as you heard the footsteps of your father walking up the stairs. You pulled away, causing Billy to whine which made you laugh as you stood and fixed your blouse. You sat quickly on your desk chair and opened the textbook to a random page. As the door opened, you were rushing into a explanation of a chemical you knew practically zero about.

“Oh hey dad.” You turned to look at him. Billy shifted so that he was laying against the end of your bed so your dad couldn’t see his unbuttoned shirt.

“Mr. Y/L/N,” Billy gave no reason for your father to suspect anything except for his eyes which clearly gave him away.

“Out. Go. Sho. Away from my daughter,” you dad called and you sighed.

“To the car then?” You asked as you stood up again. Billy nodded.

“We’ll just finished what we started there.”

You left your father with a horrified look and no idea where you were going.

All day: @swanky-batman @drunktnkmelomaniac

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

Text

Cerebus #5 (1978)

It seems improbable that this comic book would run for 300 issues.

The United Kingdom has way too much history for such a small island. And being American, I know about 3% of it. I know there were some kings and queens, some named Elizabeth and others named George and then some guy named Oliver who fit in there somehow despite not being a king or queen. I know there are four nationalities that make up the country: Scottish, Irish, Welsh, and the boring one. I know there's a dragon on the Welsh flag and their language has too many consonants, probably because they spent so much time in mines. I know the Scottish only eat deep fried Mars bars. I know the Irish had some troubles because some of the Irish aren't British or something. And I know all the stupid political crap the American Republican party are going to do because they simply follow the Tory playbook a few months to a year after the Tories have pulled some racist bullshit. And it's not just the Tories! Seeing what the centrist Labour party members did to sabotage their own party is simply a window into what our centrist Democrats would love to do to the Leftists (and may have done! But they just haven't been exposed yet like the jerks in the Labour party). Also, and this might not seem like British History so much as a personal experience, I once fist bumped Jimmy Carr after he made a joke about me fucking pigeons. That was only one of the many times he took the piss out of me at the show. But I knew what I was getting into when I purchased front row tickets for Jimmy Carr. All that being said (terribly summed up and horribly accounted), I knew even less when I first read this story at 21. I didn't know the "Pigts" were a pun on "Picts." I just thought it was a stupid name for a loin cloth wearing tribe of people named after breakfast foods. That was good enough for me! But maybe this issue will be even funnier if I read the Wikipedia entry on Picts! Or scan the entry, at least. Or, at the very least and the most probable option, click on the link, read a few sentences, and realize I don't really care that much. I should probably read more non-fiction so that I actually know things about the world rather than reading another Lando Calrissian book until I know all the rules to Sabacc. In "A Note from the Publisher," Deni Loubert explains how this issue of Cerebus caused a lot of stress between the publisher and the artist due to money concerns. But in the end, Deni put in a lot of her money and solved the problem. I guess one of the few things Dave found possible to believe before breakfast was that his spouse would support him both financially and emotionally while he pursued his dreams. Dave's Swords of Cerebus essay went on for more than one page in its original printing and whoever reprinted it here forgot that there were a few extra paragraphs. So it's reprinted incomplete. That's okay because the bulk of it is about all the shortcuts he takes in drawing rain and shadows and how it's evident, as you progress through the story, how much sloppier and lazier his art becomes. But at the end, Dave Sim supplies a Gil Kane quote which made him think long and hard about how he was developing the story of Cerebus. I'd like to scan the quote but it's cut off halfway through because, as I said, somebody forgot the second page of the essay. Luckily I just happen to own the second volume of Swords of Cerebus, so I'll just type it out in a block quote.

"The difference between a comic book and a novel is not labor, not effort, it's the values. In other words, there are no meaningful values in a comic book. The people in comic books are two dimensional people going through the most elementary kind of situations, not enough to sustain anybody's interest beyond an adolescent. A novel has characterization, it has suspense, it has a structured situation full of substantial values that will hold the interest of an intelligent person. That's what I mean. Those values, if they're properly translated — Harvey Kurtzman translated them into comics. His comics were literate, they were intelligent, they were humane, they were interesting, they were funny, they were everything."

There's a second paragraph to the quote but it just brings up more inaccurate things that can be debated ad nauseam. I could argue with a lot of what Gil Kane says but he sort of argues my point at the end anyway with his discussion of Harvey Kurtzman. Basically, it depends on the author and what the author wants to bring to the comic book. Sure, characterization of a character that isn't really supposed to change much because the fans want what the fans have been getting (Batman, for instance) can be tough to pull off. But Gil Kane gets at my main problem with comic book fans who follow characters, buying any story their favorite is a part of: the characterization and story are entirely dependent on the current writer. And some writers just don't fucking care about anything except shitting out another script so they get paid. You'll find a lot of good examples of those kinds of writers in the beginning years of DC's The New 52 as they pretty much hired all of the worst writers from Marvel to launch some of their New 52 titles. Comic books make it easy for writers to write two dimensional characters and be satisfied with the garbage they produce. Fans just want another Batman story. Just stick Harley Quinn in there and it'll sell fifty thousand copies easy. Who cares who writes it as long as they always make their deadline. But that's not a flaw of the medium of comic books! That's a flaw of the writers and/or fans! The main takeaway with the Gil Kane quote is that it was nice that Dave Sim read it and thought about it and applied it to Cerebus. Maybe, at later points, he applies it too much! But if it got Dave to thinking about a larger story and a greater world chock full of characters with different ideologies and beliefs and motivations, I'll allow it to exist without being too hard on it. That's a lot of words. I need to shove a picture in here already.

This is what Page One of a Cerebus comic book looked like before Gerhard. "Pretty fucking awesome," you curse like a sailor. Later, by page four when the horizon has disappeared and the rain is simply ruler-straight vertical lines, you'll be thinking, "When the fuck does Dave hire Gerhard?"

Cerebus has found himself in the Red Marches where he's about to learn a little something about Cerebus from a bunch of long haired shirtless dudes. It's almost like when I was 17 at my first Iron Maiden show surrounded by sweaty shirtless men while I listened to Iron Maiden sing "Sun and Steel" and I thought, "Is this history?" Then later they sang "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" and I was all, "I am learning!" I'm so glad I'm writing on the Internet so I don't have to hear anybody say, "What are you talking about? How are those two things alike, you moron?!" Besides, I said it was "almost" like, imaginary jerkos! The nearly naked men convince Cerebus to follow them back to their underground kingdom so he can meet Bran Mak Mufin, the greatest military leader in all of Estarcion. Plus he has an aardvark fetish so he's really going to want to meet Cerebus, no matter how badly Cerebus smells. See, the joke in this issue (which Dave mentions at the beginning of the essay I didn't scan) is that Cerebus' fur smells terrible when it gets wet. It's pretty funny if you think about how bad that could be! Like, really bad! Ha ha!

If he's so fucking great, why is he only the penultimate swordsman? My guess is because of Cerebus!

Look at that rain! That's the rain of an artist who doesn't fucking give a shit! When the fuck does Dave hire Gerhard? Bran Mak Mufin takes one look at Cerebus and has the kind of orgasm you have when you realize the prophecy has finally been fulfilled. Man, those are the best orgasms.

We could use a few good Pigts these days.

I'd forgotten this aspect of the Pigts. One thing I do remember is that Bran Mak Mufin was my favorite member of Cerebus's cabinet as Prime Minister. Wasn't he the only one to ever try to do the right thing? And doesn't he eventually walk away because of how terrible they're all acting? Or does he only finally leave when he believes they're going to be defeated, thus exposing the weakness of his own faith? Bran mentions the Black Tower Empire which, I'm assuming, is an empire which first caused the Black Tower to ascend, something Cerebus will manage later. We learn Cerebus is 26 which probably made me feel good when I first read this in that way you feel youthfully immortal when the protagonist of the story is older than you. Now I'm twenty years older than that and I can tell you the feeling is best described as enervating. Bran Mak Mufin offers to let Cerebus rest so they can talk refreshed in the morning. While trying to sleep, Cerebus hears some strange noises and heads off to investigate.

Notice the Cerebus-shaped heads on the walls. The Chosen One is about to discover he's the protagonist of this story.

I know there's a shot of a huge aadvark statue coming up that I could have scanned instead. I'm working my way up to that revelation! Cerebus spies on a large gathering of Pigts (no more than fifty since that's the size of Bran's army) to learn that he's the reincarnation of some ancient God-King worshiped by the Pigts. The prophecy even says that he will come to them in his 26th year! Holy smokes! You couldn't write this kind of prophecy! For a moment, Cerebus is tempted to assume the role of the Pigts' Redeemer God. I guess this is his "last temptation" moment. But his narcissism wins out over his greed. He would rather be Cerebus the Unique than Cerebus the Guy Who's Just Another Version of that Other Long Dead Guy. He smashes the statue that I forgot to mention and flees the Pigts' nonsense, heading towards Iest. Nothing to say about Aardvark Comment. Just some aardvark lovers getting their aardvark love on. It was embarrassing. Cerebus #5 Rating: B+. This issue is the first to give an inkling of something bigger happening across a longer story. It's still before Dave Sim decided he was going for 300 issues dedicated to the growth of the titular beast. But any time you can make the scope of the protagonist's world bigger, it makes for a more compelling story. I'm definitely more compelled after this issue!

#Dave Sim #Cerebus

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

Text

Ween : The Prophecy – Vampires and Strawberries

Written by Alfred n the Fettuc

Note to my fellow adventure gamers : Due to a monstrous amount of work in my real life, I’m very late on my writing. So sorry about the long delay and the short post. I’ll be more efficient in the weeks to come. Cheers. Alfred

So far so good! After what we’ll call the “Curse of Enchantia incident”, I was thinking my days as an adventure gamer were coming to an end and that I would be unable to enjoy another game one day that wasn’t done by Sierra or Lucasarts (and especially not one coming from Coktel Vision), but it seems I was wrong. So far, Ween has been a pleasure to play, even if it’s definitely a weird game. I’m not sure how long it will keep this up because all the reviews I’ve seen weren’t particularly positive but I’ll cross my fingers. I don’t know if the game will be very long though, because in only 1 hour of playtime, I was already able to snatch the first grain of sand I needed (over 3).

But first things first, let’s have a look at the interface. It’s streamlined enough with the left-click interacting with things on the screen while the right-click brings up the inventory. Putting the mouse cursor up the screen makes a series of icons appear. From left to right, you have the ability to manage your saves, jokers to help you solve a puzzle (apparently only three for the whole game, so to use wisely… not that I intend to use any), a notepad which allows you to write things down in case you don’t have one in real life (or a very short-term memory), the inventory, a “friends” menu that only contains my name for now, some kind of movement icon which is supposed to allow you to revisit places without walking back (according to the manual, I haven’t had the opportunity to try it for now) and a weird icon panel which allows you to change the font the game is using, to turn on/off the music and to tell you the date and time.

Just in case you’ve been playing for so long you just forgot which day it is…

The music is as soft and mysterious as I remember, and the sound effects add to this ambiance. It uses a lot of magical swishes and swooshes that I would call reminiscent of Myst if it actually came first. Maybe the Miller Brothers were secretly Coktel Vision fans? It might be, but considering both games were released in the same year, it’s probably a coincidence. The only bother on the first screen is the constant sound of gushing water pouring from the gargoyle on the right. My first action is to click on the crystal ball… which turns into a gnome introducing himself as PETROY. At least it sets the tone for the game : you’re in for a weird ride.

Neat crystal ball disguise, buddy.

PETROY tells me he’ll join me in my quest. He gives me my grandfather copper ball which can turn into different things if I use magic jewels on it. He also tells me about URM, a tamed vampire bat that loves fruits and can be called with a flute. I pocket the copper ball, as well as a pair of pliers and a wad of lard in the cupboard.

Which looks suspiciously like Enchantia’s blu-tak all over again.

That’s all I can find in this room for now, so I exit by the door on my left. This is where I meet UKI and ORBI, two weird twins complete with a theme song and a merry dance. Despite the fact their faces look like they come from your nightmares, they seem nice enough and propose to carry your stuff.

Which one cares?

I get some straw from the guard rail and use my tongs to get the reed and wood from the guard rail itself (the tongs break though). There is also some kind of bolt partly hidden behind the wall but I can’t seem to do anything with it, nor can I take it with me. Weird. Getting back in the main room, I do what any adventure game protagonist worth his salt would do in this situation and put the straw and the wood in the fireplace. I don’t have anything to light the fire for now so I go through the right door this time.

Lots of new stuff to pick up! Score!

I pick up a tablet bearing strange writings to reveal a padlock on the trap door. The big key doesn’t seem to be used there, though, and I can’t seem to take it with me either. The book tells me about vampires that have different magic powers depending on what they eat, so I guess we’re still talking about this URM character. I pocket digitalis (whatever that is) and seeds. Shaking the skull produces some noise so I try to smash it with my copper ball and it works! I find a ring inside, which seems to show the same kind of markings than the tablet. Finally, touching the portrait produces some strange visions of a trapped woman, and the bad guy laughing. I’m guessing that these are some clues regarding my main quest but it doesn’t give my any new information. Putting the portrait on the other hook reveals some kind of cavity inhabited by a very frightening rat.

And it has a very off putting shriek. I turned down the volume a bit after this interaction.

I give him some seeds but to no avail. I try something and it works : I select the digitalis in my inventory and bring it to the inventory on the upper panel and click on the seeds. Yay, I can use stuff on other stuff! The ability to mix inventory items usually announces some nice (or hard) inventory puzzles. The digitalis sounds like some kind of poison so I now have something to get rid of the rodent.

Turns out the digitalis is actually a sleeping drug, so no critter killing for now…

Sure enough, the digitalis sends the rodent to sleep and I manage to get a wooden mold out of the hideaway. It appears to be a mold for a key so I now know I need something to light some fire in the other room, some metal to melt, and use this mold to make the key for the padlock. Nothing original so far but pretty straightforward. The only problem is: what did I miss? I don’t see what to do with my actual inventory so it’s time to ask good old PETROY about some of the stuff in my possession. I can actually ask PETROY about whatever is in my inventory. He has nothing to say about the lard, but tells me that the copper ball can change with the jewels, and that the ring is actually one of the jewels. Putting the ring on the ball changes the latter into a cauldron!

About the use of magic in the creation of household appliances.

I then proceed to search once again the three rooms to see what I had missed. It took me a bit longer than I’d like to admit to find that there was also a knife in the cupboard. I’m not a big fan of games that make you search several times the same place in order to find every object hidden in it, but when you only have three rooms to search, I guess it’s okay. I knew exactly what to do with the knife, which was to carve a flute in the reed. I knew I needed a flute to call the vampire URM.

Yeah, sure, go ahead. Who needs a knife in an adventure game?

I then spent way too many minutes figuring out how to blow the flute. You need to select the object, then go to the “characters” submenu and use the flute on WEEN. I know it seems obvious in retrospect and I’m beginning to guess I might be a little rusty. But now that I’m getting the logic behind the interface, everything should go much smoother… (right?) Blowing the flute calls URM, who looks suspiciously like our rat friend from the other room.

Yay! Another friendly-looking ally!

Thankfully, URM looks much nicer in close-up (and way stupider)

Knowing that URM is a fruit-eating vampire, I give him the strawberry I have in my inventory since the beginning of the game (for some reason). He gives me a gold ingot in exchange and flies joyfully around the room, breaking some vases and revealing a jar of strawberry jam… Calling URM once again and giving him the jam offers me the possibility to use his powers on something. I select the fireplace and URM goes on to light it by spewing fire… Pretty nice powers, stupid-looking vampire bat!

Using my experience as a seasoned adventure gamer, I proceed to do what I’ve done probably a million times in other video games : Put the cauldron on the fire, put the gold in the cauldron, pour molten gold in mold, and there you are! A new shiny golden key!

Anyone has any idea if a key made of gold would really be useful or would it just bend into the lock?

Going into the other room, the key fits the padlock and turns it into one half of a golden fish statue because magic. I open the trapdoor and get down the stairs into some kind of catacombs.

OHKRAM has to call someone to sanitize his basement.

In front of me is a very obvious obstacle in the form of a huge precipice. I grab the torch on the wall and use it to light the hearth (take that, URM!), get the planks on the left wall (revealing a door) and the tibia near the skeleton. Clicking on the skeleton itself shows me a little animation of maggots exiting its skull while the other skeleton on the right wall laughs at me… Nice welcome. I can put my cauldron on the fire, but with no more gold to melt it seems useless for now.

Through the left door I find another cave in which I find a length of rope, some kind of bowl I can’t take with me and a big skull in the wall missing an eye that looks suspiciously like a copper ball.

No maggots and no rats inside… the service is deteriorating.

Touching the cauldron with the ring turns it again into a copper ball, which I put inside the empty orbit. The mouth opens, revealing a stone with a moon etched in it (called a moon stone), as well as a lever that is too rusty to budge. The lard doesn’t seem to work on it at first, but after a bit of work it does: you have to get the copper ball back, turn it back into a cauldron, put it on the fire and melt the lard in it. I’m wondering if melting the lard in the fireplace upstairs would have worked and if not, why? I’ll have to start again one of these days to try that. Now that I have oil from my melted lard, I go back to the room on the left. My joy is temporarily put on hold because no matter how hard I try to use the oil on the rusty lever or on the skull, it doesn’t seem to work. Then I realize that there is a little hotspot near the lever labelled “opening”. But no, it doesn’t work because “the oil is running out of the sides of the opening”… Damn.

Pictured: adventure gamer enlightenment then frustration.

I then put the oil in the bowl that I couldn’t take earlier and it works! But using the bowl directly on the opening doesn’t work either… Grrrrr. Finally, I manage to stick the tibia in the opening and pour the oil in it. Score! The lever slides with a very satisfying “click”.

“Use oil on tibia” sounds like a command you could use in Osteopath Simulator 2019.

Going back to the room on the right, I see that a huge rock has risen in the middle of the previously impassable precipice. I can’t seem to go through it with only the rock, though, but using a combination of rope and planks does the trick. I’m then treated to an animation of WEEN, UKI and ORBI crossing the bridge.

Oh yeah I forgot about those two.

I arrive in the next room of the catacombs which holds two gigantic statues, a dark alcove and a locked door. As usual, I start by taking anything that isn’t nailed down, this time a spear, a sun stone and (another!) tibia. There is also a lot of text written on a tomb that PETROY translates for me. It contains two riddles:

In the dark alcove I spot a torch holder which is quite obviously a nice place where to put my torch to lighten up the mood and the place. The alcove hides an altar of sorts which obviously needs to be completed with different shapes. I’m guessing the poems have something to do with it (after all, I have a sun stone and a moon stone) but I don’t have anything resembling a crown (or a lizard-shaped thingy). The altar is also covered with some kind of moss, so I can’t read the text on it.

Yes I see now it looks more like a man with raised arms but I stick to my initial impression – it’s a lizard-shaped thingy.

I can put the sun stone or the moon stone in the rectangle hole but it doesn’t seem to do anything so I focus on the rest of the room. I try to reach the curtain that seems to hide something on the top left of the screen using the spear but “I seem to be missing a few inches” (which is a sentence I’ll try to refrain doing puns with). Putting the always useful tibia on top of the spear, I manage to use the now named “tibia spear” to remove the curtain and find… blackberries! Time to call the fruit-eating vampire again!

Note the majesty of the tibia spear held by the warrior on the right.

Apparently, the blackberries are not to the taste to our winged friend, who says it’s not enough to make him use his magic, but that he can help anyway. I send him to the room on the right through the opening over the door and he brings me the key back! I can now go through the door and I find yet another room, this time holding a mysterious sword-in-a-rock and a fuming statue. I try taking the sword but I don’t seem to be worthy…

In a funny move, URM comes back and tells me I have to look behind the sword to find the strength to remove it from the rock…

I always knew that Arthur was full of it!

I use the sword as a lever to move the heavy fuming statue and discover that the fumes are actually coming from a hole under it. Opening the trapdoor reveals a bath of acid! Always believing in the power of the magic cauldron, I scoop some acid with it, lowering the level by half and revealing strange tiles on the side wall of the bath.

Yay, a sword, a sun and a crown! Sounds familiar…

I try to push the buttons around for a bit but to no avail. I especially want to try something with the acid now in my possession : removing some moss from the altar in the other room. When I come back in the left room, apparently a BORGOL sent by OPAL, shows me the future in a vision (which is just a peek on another room I’ll probably encounter later) . I think the whole thing is an acid fumes induced hallucination.

Yep. Definitely something one could see while completely stoned on acid. “The Borgol made me do it! The Borgol made me do it!”

Once the Borgol is gone (but was it really here in the first place? Mystery, mystery…), I pour the acid on the runes hidden by the moss and learn that “the eclipse of the sun and the effigy will open the passage to the daring…” I put my sun stone in the left alcove and cover it with the moon stone, effectively creating an “eclipse” of sorts, but don’t have any effigy with me. Time to go back to the acid bath for more hallucinations. Scooping the rest of the acid with my now-empty cauldron, I reveal the rest of the tile mechanism and start working on it.

Good thing I have screenshots of the poems earlier.

The first one is pretty obvious: lay down your arms (press the sword button down), call upon the light (press the sun button up) and gently touch the crown (pretty self-explanatory) to get the effigy. A niche opens and reveals the effigy I gladly take. I could probably have solved this puzzle without scooping the rest of the acid in the first place. The other poem is not that complicated either: “Arms will be visible day and night and at that time, the crown will give you the elixir”. I press all the buttons up (visible) and press the crown. I get an elixir! To what end? We’ll see soon enough I guess. I go back to the left room and plant the effigy in the alcove. The whole stele disappears and that really seems to get the ugly twins excited.

Yeah, yeah, guys. Now back to the nursing home.

This was indeed the wall I was supposed to open in order to gain access to the temple, so I accomplished my first task! OHKRAM appears out of nowhere and tells me I’ve gained my first grain of sand. Victory! Next step: vanquish the dragon!

You mean you had it on you the whole time and just waited to see if I managed to open a door?

Wow that was a long post for a short period of gaming but a lot is happening in this game! For now I’m really enjoying myself and the combination of nice graphics, great music and really nice (even if a bit on the classic side) puzzle design makes for a great experience so far! Let’s hope it’ll manage to keep this pace through the whole game!

Session time: 1 hour Total time: 1 hour

Inventory: Cauldron, Flute, Ring, Tablet, Half-Statue, Elixir, Grain of Sand Companions: PETROY, UKI, ORBI, URM

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/ween-the-prophecy-vampires-and-strawberries/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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readbookywooks · 7 years

Text

Beyond the Veil

Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts; Ginny gave a gasp of horror. 'To me, Potter,' repeated the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy as he held out his hand, palm up. Harry's insides plummeted sickeningly. They were trapped, and outnumbered two to one. 'To me,' said Malfoy yet again. 'Where's Sirius?' Harry said. Several of the Death Eaters laughed; a harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Harry's left said triumphantly, 'The Dark Lord always knows!' 'Always,' echoed Malfoy softly. 'Now, give me the prophecy, Potter.' 'I want to know where Sirius is!' 'I want to know where Sirius is!' mimicked the woman to his left. She and her fellow Death Eaters had closed in so that they were mere feet away from Harry and the others, the light from their wands dazzling Harry's eyes. 'You've got him,' said Harry, ignoring the rising panic in his chest, the dread he had been fighting since they had first entered the ninety-seventh row. 'He's here. I know he is.' 'The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,' said the woman in a horrible, mock baby voice. Harry felt Ron stir beside him. 'Don't do anything,' Harry muttered. 'Not yet--' The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter. 'You hear him? You hear him?Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!' 'Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,' said Malfoy softly. 'He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter.' 'I know Sirius is here,' said Harry, though panic was causing his chest to constrict and he felt as though he could not breathe properly. 'I know you've got him!' More of the Death Eaters laughed, though the woman laughed loudest of all. 'It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter,' said Malfoy. 'Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands.' 'Go on, then,' said Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. As he did so, the five wands of Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna rose on either side of him. The knot in Harry's stomach tightened. If Sirius really was not here, he had led his friends to their deaths for no reason at all ... But the Death Eaters did not strike. 'Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt,' said Malfoy coolly. It was Harry's turn to laugh. 'Yeah, right!' he said. 'I give you this--prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?' The words were hardly out of his mouth when the female Death Eater shrieked: 'Accio proph --' Harry was just ready for her: he shouted 'Protego' before she had finished her spell, and though the glass sphere slipped to the tips of his fingers he managed to cling on to it. 'Oh, he knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter,' she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. 'Very well, then--' 'I TOLD YOU, NO!' Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. 'If you smash it--!' Harry's mind was racing. The Death Eaters wanted this dusty spun-glass sphere. He had no interest in it. He just wanted to get them all out of this alive, to make sure none of his friends paid a terrible price for his stupidity ... The woman stepped forward, away from her fellows, and pulled off her hood. Azkaban had hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange's face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow. 'You need more persuasion?' she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 'Very well--take the smallest one,' she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. 'Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it.' Harry felt the others close in around Ginny; he stepped sideways so that he was right in front of her, the prophecy held up to his chest. 'You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us,' he told Bellatrix. 'I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?' She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth. 'So,' said Harry, 'what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?' He could not think what to do but to keep talking. Neville's arm was pressed against his, and he could feel him shaking; he could feel one of the others' quickened breath on the back of his head. He was hoping they were all thinking hard about ways to get out of this, because his mind was blank. 'What kind of prophecy?' repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. 'You jest, Harry Potter.' 'Nope, not jesting,' said Harry, his eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link, a space through which they could escape. 'How come Voldemort wants it? Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses. 'You dare speak his name?' whispered Bellatrix. 'Yeah,' said Harry, maintaining his tight grip on the glass ball, expecting another attempt to bewitch it from him. 'Yeah, I've got no problem with saying Vol-- 'Shut your mouth!' Bellatrix shrieked. 'You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare--' 'Did you know he's a half-blood too?' said Harry recklessly. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear. 'Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle--or has he been telling you lot he's pure-blood?' 'STUPEF--' 'NO!' A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy had deflected it; his spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered. Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each began to speak; their voices vied with each other, so that only fragments of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts. '... at the solstice will come a new ...' said the figure of an old, bearded man. 'DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!' 'He dared--he dares--' shrieked Bellatrix incoherently, 'he stands there--filthy half-blood --' 'WAIT UN'I'LL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!' bawled Malfoy. '... and none will come after ...' said the figure of a young woman. The two figures that had burst from the shattered spheres had melted into thin air. Nothing remained of them or their erstwhile homes but fragments of glass upon the floor. They had, however, given Harry an idea. The problem was going to be conveying it to the others. 'You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over,' he said, playing for time. He moved his foot slowly sideways, feeling around for someone else's. 'Do not play games with us, Potter,' said Malfoy. 'I'm not playing games,' said Harry, half his mind on the conversation, half on his wandering foot. And then he found someone's toes and pressed down upon them. A sharp intake of breath behind him told him they were Hermione's. 'What?' she whispered. 'Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?' Malfoy sneered. 'I--what?' said Harry. And for a moment he quite forgot his plan. 'What about my scar?' 'What?' whispered Hermione more urgently behind him. 'Can this be?' said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hissed to Hermione, moving his lips as little as possible, 'Smash shelves--' 'Dumbledore never told you?' Malfoy repeated. 'Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why--' '--when I say now-- ' '--you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording ...' 'Did he?' said Harry. Behind him he felt rather than heard Hermione passing his message to the others and he sought to keep talking, to distract the Death Eaters. 'So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?' 'Why?' Malfoy sounded incredulously delighted. 'Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him.' 'And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?' 'About both of you, Potter, about both of you ... haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?' Harry stared into the slitted eye-holes through which Malfoy's grey eyes were gleaming. Was this prophecy the reason Harry's parents had died, the reason he carried his lightning-bolt scar? Was the answer to all of this clutched in his hand? 'Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?' he said quietly, gazing at Lucius Malfoy, his fingers tightening over the warm glass sphere in his hand. It was hardly larger than a Snitch and still gritty with dust. 'And he's made me come and get it for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?' 'Get it himself?' shrieked Bellatrix, over a cackle of mad laughter. 'The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?' 'So, he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?' said Harry. 'Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it--and Bode?' 'Very good, Potter, very good ...' said Malfoy slowly. 'But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell-- 'NOW!' yelled Harry. Five different voices behind him bellowed, 'REDUCTO!' Five curses flew in five different directions and the shelves opposite them exploded as they hit; the towering structure swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and floated there, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor-- 'RUN!' Harry yelled, as the shelves swayed precariously and more glass spheres began to fall from above. He seized a handful of Hermione's robes and dragged her forwards, holding one arm over his head as chunks of shelf and shards of glass thundered down upon them. A Death Eater lunged forwards through the cloud of dust and Harry elbowed him hard in the masked face; they were all yelling, there were cries of pain, and thunderous crashes as the shelves collapsed upon themselves, weirdly echoing fragments of the Seers unleashed from their spheres-- Harry found the way ahead clear and saw Ron, Ginny and Luna sprint past him, their arms over their heads; something heavy struck him on the side of the face but he merely ducked his head and sprinted onwards; a hand caught him by the shoulder; he heard Hermione shout, 'Stupefy!' The hand released him at once-- They were at the end of row ninety-seven; Harry turned right and began to sprint in earnest; he could hear footsteps right behind him and Hermione's voice urging Neville on; straight ahead, the door through which they had come was ajar; Harry could see the glittering light of the bell jar; he pelted through the doorway, the prophecy still clutched tight and safe in his hand, and waited for the others to hurtle over the threshold before slamming the door behind them-- 'Colloportus!' gasped Hermione and the door sealed itself with an odd squelching noise. 'Where--where are the others?' gasped Harry. He had thought Ron, Luna and Ginny were ahead of them, that they would be waiting in this room, but there was nobody there. 'They must have gone the wrong way!' whispered Hermione, terror in her face. 'Listen!' whispered Neville. Footsteps and shouts echoed from behind the door they had just sealed; Harry put his ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar, 'Leave Nott, leave him, I say-- his injuries will be nothing to the Dark Lord compared to losing that prophecy. Jugson, come back here, we need to organise! We'll split into pairs and search, and don't forget, be gentle with Potter until we've got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary--Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left; Crabbe, Rabastan, go right--Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead--Macnair and Avery, through here--Rookwood, over there-- Mulciber, come with me!' 'What do we do?' Hermione asked Harry, trembling from head to foot. 'Well, we don't stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start,' said Harry. 'Let's get away from this door.' They ran as quietly as they could, past the shimmering bell jar where the tiny egg was hatching and unhatching, towards the exit into the circular hallway at the far end of the room. They were almost there when Harry heard something large and heavy collide with the door Hermione had charmed shut. 'Stand aside!' said a rough voice. 'Alohomora!' As the door flew open, Harry, Hermione and Neville dived under desks. They could see the bottom of the two Death Eaters' robes drawing nearer, their feet moving rapidly. 'They might've run straight through to the hall,' said the rough voice. 'Check under the desks,' said another. Harry saw the knees of the Death Eaters bend; poking his wand out from under the desk, he shouted, 'STUPEFY!' A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backwards into a grandfather clock and knocked it over; the second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and was pointing his own wand at Hermione, who was crawling out from under the desk to get a better aim. 'Avada--' Harry launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry. Neville overturned a desk in his anxiety to help; and pointing his wand wildly at the struggling pair, he cried: 'EXPELLIARMUS!' Both Harry's and the Death Eater's wands flew out of their hands and soared back towards the entrance to the Hall of Prophecy; both scrambled to their feet and charged after them, the Death Eater in front, Harry hot on his heels, and Neville bringing up the rear, plainly horrorstruck by what he had done. 'Get out of the way, Harry!' yelled Neville, clearly determined to repair the damage. Harry flung himself sideways as Neville took aim again and shouted: 'STUPEFY!' The jet of red light flew right over the Death Eaters shoulder and hit a glass-fronted cabinet on the wall full of variously shaped hour-glasses; the cabinet fell to the floor and burst apart, glass flying everywhere, sprang back up on to the wall, fully mended, then fell down again, and shattered-- The Death Eater had snatched up his wand, which lay on the floor beside the glittering bell jar. Harry ducked down behind another desk as the man turned; his mask had slipped so that he couldn't see. He ripped it off with his free hand and shouted: 'STUP--' 'STUPEFY!' screamed Hermione, who had just caught up with them. The jet of red light hit the Death Eater in the middle of his chest: he froze, his arm still raised, his wand fell to the floor with a flatter and he collapsed backwards towards the bell jar. Harry expected to hear a clunk, for the man to hit solid glass and slide off the jar on to the floor, but instead, his head sank through the surface of the bell jar as though it were nothing but a soap bubble and he came to rest, sprawled on his back on the table, with his head lying inside the jar full of glittering wind. 'Accio wand!' cried Hermione. Harry's wand flew from a dark corner into her hand and she threw it to him. 'Thanks,' he said. 'Right, let's get out of--' 'Look out!' said Neville, horrified. He was staring at the Death Eater's head in the bell jar. All three of them raised their wands again, but none of them struck: they were all gazing, open-mouthed, appalled, at what was happening to the man's head. It was shrinking very fast, growing balder and balder, the black hair and stubble retracting into his skull; his cheeks becoming smooth, his skull round and covered with a peachlike fuzz ... A baby's head now sat grotesquely on top of the thick, muscled neck of the Death Eater as he struggled to get up again; but even as they watched, their mouths open, the head began to swell to its previous proportions again; thick black hair was sprouting from the pate and chin ... 'It's Time,' said Hermione in an awestruck voice. 'Time ...' The Death Eater shook his ugly head again, trying to clear it, but before he could pull himself together it began to shrink back to babyhood once more ... There was a shout from a room nearby, then a crash and a scream. 'RON?' Harry yelled, turning quickly from the monstrous transformation taking place before them. 'GINNY? LUNA?' 'Harry!' Hermione screamed. The Death Eater had pulled his head out of the bell jar. His appearance was utterly bizarre, his tiny baby's head bawling loudly while his thick arms flailed dangerously in all directions, narrowly missing Harry, who had ducked. Harry raised his wand but to his amazement Hermione seized his arm. 'You can't hurt a baby!' There was no time to argue the point; Harry could hear more footsteps growing louder from the Hall of Prophecy and knew, too late, that he ought not to have shouted and given away their position. 'Come on!' he said, and leaving the ugly baby-headed Death Eater staggering behind them they took off for the door that stood open at the other end of the room, leading back into the black hallway. They had run halfway towards it when Harry saw through the open door two more Death Eaters running across the black room towards them; veering left, he burst instead into a small, dark, cluttered office and slammed the door behind them. 'Collo--' began Hermione, but before she could complete the spell the door had burst open and the two Death Eaters had come hurtling inside. With a cry of triumph, both yelled: 'IMPEDIMENTA!' Harry, Hermione and Neville were all knocked backwards off their feet; Neville was thrown over the desk and disappeared from view; Hermione smashed into a bookcase and was promptly deluged in a cascade of heavy books; the back of Harry's head slammed into the stone wall behind him, tiny lights burst in front of his eyes and for a moment he was too dizzy and bewildered to react. 'WE'VE GOT HIM!' yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry. 'IN AN OFFICE OFF--' 'Silencio!' cried Hermione and the man's voice was extinguished. He continued to mouth through the hole in his mask, but no sound came out. He was thrust aside by his fellow Death Eater. 'Petrificus Totalus!' shouted Harry, as the second Death Eater raised his wand. His arms and legs snapped together and he fell forwards, face down on to the rug at Harry's feet, stiff as a board and unable to move. 'Well done, Ha--' But the Death Eater Hermione had just struck dumb made a sudden slashing movement with his wand; a streak of what looked like purple flame passed right across Hermione's chest. She gave a tiny 'Oh!' as though of surprise and crumpled on to the floor, where she lay motionless. 'HERMIONE!' Harry fell to his knees beside her as Neville crawled rapidly towards her from under the desk, his wand held up in front of him. The Death Eater kicked out hard at Neville's head as he emerged--his foot broke Neville's wand in two and connected with his face. Neville gave a howl of pain and recoiled, clutching his mouth and nose. Harry twisted around, his own wand held high, and saw that the Death Eater had ripped off his mask and was pointing his wand directly at Harry, who recognised the long, pale, twisted face from the Daily Prophet:Antonin Dolohov, the wizard who had murdered the Prewetts. Dolohov grinned. With his free hand, he pointed from the prophecy still clutched in Harry's hand, to himself, then at Hermione. Though he could no longer speak, his meaning could not have been clearer. Give me the prophecy, or you get the same as her ... 'Like you won't kill us all anyway, the moment I hand it over!' said Harry. A whine of panic inside his head was preventing him thinking properly: he had one hand on Hermione's shoulder, which was still warm, yet did not dare look at her properly. Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead, it's my fault if she's dead ... 'Whaddever you do, Harry,' said Neville fiercely from under the desk, lowering his hands to show a clearly broken nose and blood pouring down his mouth and chin, 'don'd gib it to him!' Then there was a crash outside the door and Dolohov looked over his shoulder--the baby-headed Death Eater had appeared in the doorway, his head bawling, his great fists still flailing uncontrollably at everything around him. Harry seized his chance: 'PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!' The spell hit Dolohov before he could block it and he toppled forwards across his comrade, both of them rigid as boards and unable to move an inch. 'Hermione,' Harry said at once, shaking her as the baby-headed Death Eater blundered out of sight again. 'Hermione, wake up ...' 'Whaddid he do to her?' said Neville, crawling out from under the desk to kneel at her other side, blood streaming from his rapidly swelling nose. 'I dunno ...' Neville groped for Hermione's wrist. 'Dat's a pulse, Harry, I'b sure id is.' Such a powerful wave of relief swept through Harry that for a moment he felt light-headed. 'She's alive?' 'Yeah, I dink so.' There was a pause in which Harry listened hard for the sound of more footsteps, but all he could hear were the whimpers and blunderings of the baby-headed Death Eater in the next room. 'Neville, we're not far from the exit,' Harry whispered, 'we're right next to that circular room ... if we can just get you across it and find the right door before any more Death Eaters come, I'll bet you can get Hermione up the corridor and into the lift ... then you could find someone ... raise the alarm ...' 'And whad are you going do do?' said Neville, mopping his bleeding nose with his sleeve and frowning at Harry. 'I've got to find the others,' said Harry. 'Well, I'b going do find dem wid you,' said Neville firmly. 'But Hermione--' 'We'll dake her wid us,' said Neville firmly. 'I'll carry her--you're bedder at fighding dem dan I ab-- He stood up and seized one of Hermione's arms, glaring at Harry, who hesitated, then grabbed the other and helped hoist Hermione's limp form over Neville's shoulders. 'Wait,' said Harry, snatching up Hermione's wand from the floor and shoving it into Neville's hand, 'you'd better take this.' Neville kicked aside the broken fragments of his own wand as they walked slowly towards the door. 'My gran's going do kill be,' said Neville thickly, blood spattering from his nose as he spoke, 'dat was by dad's old wand.' Harry stuck his head out of the door and looked around cautiously. The baby-headed Death Eater was screaming and banging into things, toppling grandfather clocks and overturning desks, bawling and confused, while the glass-fronted cabinet that Harry now suspected had contained Time-Turners continued to fall, shatter and repair itself on the wall behind them. 'He's never going to notice us,' he whispered. 'C'mon ... keep close behind me ...' They crept out of the office and back towards the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forwards, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione's weight; the door of the Time Room swung shut behind them and the walls began to rotate once more. The recent blow on the back of Harry's head seemed to have unsteadied him; he narrowed his eyes, swaying slightly, until the walls stopped moving again. With a sinking heart, Harry saw that Hermione's fiery crosses had faded from the doors. 'So which way d'you reck--?' But before they could make a decision as to which way to try, a door to their right sprang open and three people fell out of it. 'Ron!' croaked Harry, dashing towards them. 'Ginny--are you all--?' 'Harry,' said Ron, giggling weakly, lurching forwards, seizing the front of Harry's robes and gazing at him with unfocused eyes, 'there you are ... ha ha ha ... you look funny, Harry ... you're all messed up ...' Ron's face was very white and something dark was trickling from the corner of his mouth. Next moment his knees had given way, but he still clutched the front of Harry's robes, so that Harry was pulled into a kind of bow. 'Ginny?' Harry said fearfully. 'What happened?' But Ginny shook her head and slid down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle. 'I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack,' whispered Luna, who was bending over her and who alone seemed to be unhurt. 'Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets; it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark--' 'Harry, we saw Uranus up close!' said Ron, still giggling feebly. 'Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus--ha ha ha--' A bubble of blood grew at the corner of Ron's mouth and burst. '--anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny's foot, I used the Reductor Curse and blew up Pluto in his face, but ...' Luna gestured hopelessly at Ginny, who was breathing in a very shallow way, her eyes still closed. 'And what about Ron?' said Harry fearfully, as Ron continued to giggle, still hanging off the front of Harry's robes. 'I don't know what they hit him with,' said Luna sadly, 'but he's gone a bit funny, I could hardly get him along at all.' 'Harry,' said Ron, pulling Harry's ear down to his mouth and still giggling weakly, 'you know who this girl is, Harry? She's Loony ... Loony Lovegood ... ha ha ha ...' 'We've got to get out of here,' said Harry firmly. 'Luna, can you help Ginny?' 'Yes,' said Luna, sticking her wand behind her ear for safekeeping, then putting an arm around Ginny's waist and pulling her up. 'It's only my ankle, I can do it myself!' said Ginny impatiently, but next moment she had collapsed sideways and grabbed Luna for support. Harry pulled Ron's arm over his shoulder just as, so many months ago, he had pulled Dudley's. He looked around: they had a one in twelve chance of getting the exit right first time-- He heaved Ron towards a door; they were within a few feet of it when another door across the hall burst open and three Death Eaters sped in, led by Bellatrix Lestrange. 'There they are!' she shrieked. Stunning Spells shot across the room: Harry smashed his way through the door ahead, flung Ron unceremoniously from him and ducked back to help Neville in with Hermione: they were all over the threshold just in time to slam the door against Bellatrix. 'Colloportus!' shouted Harry, and he heard three bodies slam into the door on the other side. 'It doesn't matter!' said a man's voice. 'There are other ways in--WE'VE GOT THEM, THEY'RE HERE!' Harry span around; they were back in the Brain Room and, sure enough, there were doors all around the walls. He could hear footsteps in the hall behind them as more Death Eaters came running to join the first. 'Luna--Neville-- help me!' The three of them tore around the room, sealing the doors as they went; Harry crashed into a tbale and rolled over the top of it in his haste to reach the next door: 'Colloportus!' There were footsteps running along behind the doors, every now and then another heavy body would launch itself against one, so it creaked and shuddered; Luna and Neville were bewitching the doors along the opposite wall--then, as Harry reached the very top of the room, he heard Luna cry: 'Collo--aaaaaaaaargh ...' He turned in time to see her flying through the air; five Death Eaters were surging into the room through the door she had not reached in time; Luna hit a desk, slid over its surface and on to the floor on the other side where she lay sprawled, as still as Hermione. 'Get Potter!' shrieked Bellatrix, and she ran at him; he dodged her and sprinted back up the room; he was safe as long as they thought they might hit the prophecy-- 'Hey!' said Ron, who had staggered to his feet and was now tottering drunkenly towards Harry, giggling. 'Hey, Harry, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird, Harry?' 'Ron, get out of the way, get down--' But Ron had already pointed his wand at the tank. 'Honest, Harry, they're brains--look--Accio brain!' The scene seemed momentarily frozen. Harry, Ginny and Neville and each of the Death Eaters turned in spite of themselves to watch the top of the tank as a brain burst from the green liquid like a leaping fish: for a moment it seemed suspended in midair, then it soared towards Ron, spinning as it came, and what looked like ribbons of moving images flew from it, unravelling like rolls of film-- 'Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it--' said Ron, watching it disgorge its gaudy innards, 'Harry, come and touch it; bet it's weird--' 'RON, NO!' Harry did not know what would happen if Ron touched the tentacles of thought now flying behind the brain, but he was sure it would not be anything good. He darted forwards but Ron had already caught the brain in his outstretched hands. The moment they made contact with his skin, the tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron's arms like ropes. 'Harry, look what's happen--No--no--I don't like it--no, stop--stop--' But the thin ribbons were spinning around Ron's chest now; he tugged and tore at them as the brain was pulled tight against him like an octopus's body. 'Diffindo!' yelled Harry, trying to sever the feelers wrapping themselves tightly around Ron before his eyes, but they would not break. Ron fell over, still thrashing against his bonds. 'Harry, it'll suffocate him!' screamed Ginny, immobilised by her broken ankle on the floor-- then a jet of red light flew from one of the Death Eater's wands and hit her squarely in the face. She keeled over sideways and lay there unconscious. 'STUBEFY!' shouted Neville, wheeling around and waving Hermione's wand at the oncoming Death Eaters, 'STUBEFY, STUBEFY!' But nothing happened. One of the Death Eaters shot their own Stunning Spell at Neville; it missed him by inches. Harry and Neville were now the only two left fighting the five Death Eaters, two of whom sent off streams of silver light like arrows which missed but left craters in the wall behind them. Harry ran for it as Bellatrix Lestrange raced right at him: holding the prophecy high above his head, he sprinted back up the room; all he could think of doing was to draw the Death Eaters away from the others. It seemed to have worked; they streaked after him, knocking chairs and tables flying but not daring to bewitch him in case they hurt the prophecy, and he dashed through the only door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come; inwardly praying that Neville would stay with Ron and find some way of releasing him. He ran a few feet into the new room and felt the floor vanish-- He was falling down steep stone step after steep stone step, bouncing on every tier until at last, with a crash that knocked all the breath out of his body, he landed flat on his back in the sunken pit where the stone archway stood on its dais. The whole room was ringing with the Death Eater's laughter: he looked up and saw the five who had been in the Brain Room descending towards him, while as many more emerged through other doorways and began leaping from bench to bench towards him. Harry got to his feet though his legs were trembling so badly they barely supported him: the prophecy was still miraculously unbroken in his left hand, his wand clutched tightly in his right. He backed away, looking around, trying to keep all the Death Eaters within his sight. The back of his legs hit something solid: he had reached the dais where the archway stood. He climbed backwards onto it. The Death Eaters all halted, gazing at him. Some were panting as hard as he was. One was bleeding badly; Dolohov, freed of the Body-Bind Curse, was leering, his wand pointing straight at Harry's face. 'Potter, your race is run,' drawled Lucius Malfoy, pulling off his mask, 'now hand me the prophecy like a good boy.' 'Let--let the others go, and I'll give it to you!' said Harry desperately. A few of the Death Eaters laughed. 'You are not in a position to bargain, Potter,' said Lucius Malfoy, his pale face flushed with pleasure. 'You see, there are ten of us and only one of you ... or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?' 'He's dot alone!' shouted a voice from above them. 'He's still god be!' Harry's heart sank: Neville was scrambling down the stone benches towards them, Hermione's wand held fast in his trembling hand. 'Neville--no-- go back to Ron--' 'STUBEFY!' Neville shouted again, pointing his wand at each Death Eater in turn. 'STUBEFY! STUBE--' One of the largest Death Eaters seized Neville from behind, pinioning his arms to his sides. He struggled and kicked; several of the Death Eaters laughed. 'It's Longbottom, isn't it?' sneered Lucius Malfoy. 'Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause ... your death will not come as a great shock.' 'Longbottom?' repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. 'Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy.' 'I DOE YOU HAB!' roared Neville, and he fought so hard against his captor's encircling grip that the Death Eater shouted, 'Someone Stun him!' 'No, no, no,' said Bellatrix. She looked transported, alive with excitement as she glanced at Harry, then back at Neville. 'No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents ... unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy.' 'DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!' roared Neville, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to him and his captor, her wand raised. 'DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!' Bellatrix raised her wand. 'Crucio!' Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony. 'That was just a taster!' said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. 'Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!' Harry did not have to think; there was no choice. The prophecy was hot with the heat of his clutching hand as he held it out. Malfoy jumped forwards to take it. Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley. Malfoy turned, and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Harry did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dived off the dais out of the way. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step towards the sunken floor. Through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, Harry could see Neville crawling along. He dodged another jet of red light and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Neville. 'Are you OK?' he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads. 'Yes,' said Neville, trying to pull himself up. 'And Ron?' 'I dink he's all righd--he was still fighding de brain when I lefd--' The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been only seconds before; both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor. 'Give it to me,' growled a voice in his ear, 'give me the prophecy--' The man was pressing so tightly on Harry's windpipe that he could not breathe. Through watering eyes he saw Sirius duelling with a Death Eater some ten feet away; Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix--nobody seemed to realise that Harry was dying. He turned his wand backwards towards the man's side, but had no breath to utter an incantation, and the man's free hand was groping towards the hand in which Harry was grasping the prophecy--' 'AARGH!' Neville had come lunging out of nowhere; unable to articulate a spell, he had jabbed Hermione's wand hard into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask. The man relinquished Harry at once with a howl of pain. Harry whirled around to face him and gasped: 'STUPEFY!' The Death Eater keeled over backwards and his mask slipped off: it was Macnair, Buckbeak's would-be killer, one of his eyes now swollen and bloodshot. 'Thanks!' Harry said to Neville, pulling him aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, duelling so fiercely that their wands were blurs; then Harry's foot made contact with something round and hard and he slipped. For a moment he thought he had dropped the prophecy, but then he saw Moody's magical eye spinning away across the floor. Its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon Harry and Neville: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee. 'Tarantallegra!' he shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap-dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again. 'Now, Potter--' He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, 'Protego!' Harry felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife; the force of it knocked him sideways and he fell over Neville's jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell. Dolohov raised his wand again. 'Accio proph--' Sirius had hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy had again flown to the tips of Harry's fingers but he had managed to cling on to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were duelling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand-tips-- Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, 'Petrificus Totalus!' Once again, Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back. 'Nice one!' shouted Sirius, forcing Harry's head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards them. 'Now I want you to get out of--' They both ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back towards the fray. 'Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!' Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Harry did not see what happened next: Kingsley swayed across his field of vision, battling with the pockmarked and no longer masked Rookwood; another jet of green light flew over Harry's head as he launched himself towards Neville-- 'Can you stand?' he bellowed in Neville's ear, as Neville's legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably. 'Put your arm round my neck--' Neville did so-- Harry heaved--Neville's legs were still lying in every direction, they would not support him, and then, out of nowhere, a man lunged at them: both fell backwards, Neville's legs waving wildly like an overturned beetle's, Harry with his left arm held up in the air to try to save the small glass ball from being smashed. 'The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!' snarled Lucus Malfoy's voice in his ear, and Harry felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between his ribs. 'No--get--off-- me ... Neville--catch it!' Harry flung the prophecy across the floor, Neville span himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, 'Impedimenta!' Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Harry scrambled up again he looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now duelling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them. 'Harry, round up the others and GO!' Harry seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps; Neville's legs twitched and jerked and would not support his weight; Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step--' A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel; it crumbled away and he fell back to the step below. Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket. 'Come on!' said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. 'Just try and push with your legs--' He gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam--the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and, before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness. 'Harry, I'b sorry!' cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. 'I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do--' 'It doesn't matter!' Harry shouted. 'Just try and stand, let's get out of--' 'Dubbledore!' said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder. 'What?' 'DUBBLEDORE!' Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body--they were saved. Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realised he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line-- Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her. 'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais. It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place. Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing--Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second ... But Sirius did not reappear. 'SIRIUS!' Harry yelled. 'SIRIUS!' He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out ... But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. 'There's nothing you can do, Harry--' 'Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!' '--it's too late, Harry.' 'We can still reach him--' Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go ... 'There's nothing you can do, Harry ... nothing ... he's gone.'

#OrderofthePhoenix #HarryPotter

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