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tinyundercover · 3 days

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pepper & felix

part thirteen

:))))))) cw: excessive alcohol consumption word count: 4.1k

Pepper did not understand alcohol.

He was aware that humans drank it, but he was appalled as to why. In the last few years he had run into his fair share of humans that seemed to be overcome by the effects of alcohol, pink-faced and dizzy and loud, and he had always avoided them. Why would humans do this to themselves?

He and Basil had grown up in a bakery, surrounded by warmth and sugar, so Pepper hadn’t been exposed to alcohol until he moved out at the age of nineteen. After two weeks of traveling, he had found his first home– a small house occupied by a middle-aged human couple. It had been frightening to live somewhere entirely new, but it had turned out to be a comfortable home for him.

For two years, he had observed the human couple, and had been confused by their occasional consumption of alcohol. Once, after running across some leftover liquor in a glass, he had even tried a sip. His curiosity had left him choking and spluttering and absolutely revolted by the humans’ drink. His confusion had only increased.

After the humans had noticed their things going missing and had begun to set out mouse traps, Pepper had been forced to leave their house and search for a new home. He had made his way into an apartment complex around the time he turned twenty-one years old, and had built a new home within the walls of an introverted, blonde human, who Pepper pleasantly noticed very rarely drank alcohol.

Now, he stood on the arm of the human’s couch, staring up at said human in front of him.

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” he pointed out, brow furrowing.

Felix sighed, features soft. “I don’t, not really,” he admitted, leaning down to see Pepper better. “But I kind of have to go to this one.”

“Why?” Pepper asked incredulously.

“I dunno… it’s a cast party, so it would be a little rude for me not to show up, I guess. I already told everyone I would go.”

Pepper shook his head, astounded. He couldn’t imagine attending any kind of party, especially one he didn’t want to go to. As far as he knew, human parties consisted of large groups of humans getting together to be incredibly loud and take up space. It sounded awful.

“I’m only gonna go for a little bit,” Felix continued, gaze dancing over Pepper’s uneasy form. It was hard to tell why Pepper was so uncomfortable with this.

To be honest, Pepper wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, either. Looking up at Felix, taking in the entirety of the human’s tall and imposing form, his stomach fluttered. Felix, surely, would be able to take care of himself in the presence of so many other humans. Pepper shouldn’t worry.

Pepper nodded slowly, crossing his arms. “Alright.”

“It’ll be okay,” Felix promised, straightening up. He wore a baggy graphic tee and blue jeans, reminding Pepper that this was a comfortable, casual event for the human. The borrower forced himself to take a deep breath and nodded again.

“Right,” he agreed unhappily. “I’ll see you later.”

However, as listened to the sound of the front door closing moments later, he couldn’t fight the feeling that something awful was bound to happen.

–

Forty people was a lot to fit into Ricky’s small apartment.

Felix weaved his way through the crowd in the kitchen, gaze searching, feeling incredibly out of place. Every so often someone would stop him to say hi, only to abandon the conversation a moment later, making Felix wonder how useless his social skills could be. Relief filled his chest when he spotted Breanna and Owen, chatting by the wall, and he gratefully walked over to them. “Hey.”

“Felix!” Breanna lit up instantly. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Felix checked his phone, sheepishly observing the fact that he was over an hour late. He had stalled by talking to Pepper for far too long. “Is Alice here?”

Owen took a sip of his drink, because unlike Felix and Breanna, he was happy to have a few drinks when they went to parties. “Yeah, somewhere.”

“What are you doing here?”

Owen grinned. “I like parties.”

Felix let out a breathy laugh. Despite the fact that Owen wasn’t in the cast, it was nice to see a familiar face. Owen had accompanied his three friends to so many theater events that he might as well be considered an honorary theater member at this point.

The next twenty minutes were bearable, as Felix lingered by the wall with his friends. Music filled the air, blasting from a speaker, so Felix was forced to lean in close to his friends to even hear them properly.

When Alice approached them, Felix almost forgot the weird situation the two of them were currently in, more relieved to have another face he recognized as a friend. Her black hair had been pulled into a slicked-back ponytail, revealing the sharpness of her expression as she glanced over Felix. A red solo cup was held in her hand. “Hey, Felix.”

“Hey.” Felix opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words, hesitantly turning away from Alice to listen in on Breanna and Owen’s conversation. The tension in the air suddenly filled his lungs.

The past week of rehearsals had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Felix and Alice didn’t say much to each other, both of them gravitating towards Breanna as their closest friend. Felix didn’t know what to do, or how to repair his relationship with Alice.

Were they fighting? He thought that they had cleared things up, but Alice’s lingering frowns and cold eyes made him feel like they weren’t past the borrower situation. He wanted to bring it up to her, but he was terrified of somehow betraying the borrowers, or rubbing salt into the freshly opened wound of his and Alice’s relationship. He didn’t know what to do.

“Rehearsals have been crazy, huh?” Alice remarked suddenly.

Felix met her gaze, peering intently. “Yeah,” he agreed after a moment, grateful that Alice had broken the tension first. “Yeah, how have you been holding up?”

Alice laughed, then took a long sip of her drink. Felix vaguely noticed the pink twinge in her cheeks. “If Mrs. Shelton makes us run the ballroom dance one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

Felix let out a laugh at that. In rehearsal yesterday, he and Alice had spent hours working on one singular dance scene between Ariel and Eric. It had become exhausting after a while, especially considering the fact that the two of them were barely on speaking terms and had to act like they were madly in love. Being able to laugh about it brought a warm feeling into Felix’s chest.

After a few minutes, Breanna and Owen tuned into Felix and Alice’s conversation. The four of them together, laughing and comfortable, was something Felix had missed greatly. He hoped that Alice felt the same.

An hour into the party Ricky organized karaoke, which the cast grew ecstatic for. The majority of them crammed into the large space of the living room, and Felix and Alice watched in amusement as Breanna dragged Owen towards a microphone and insisted that he sing a duet with her.

“Owen should sing more,” Alice commented as the redhead reluctantly began a few rocky notes, grinning at Breanna. “He’s got a good voice.”

Felix hummed in agreement, arms crossing. The pair of them lingered by the door to the kitchen, and after a moment Alice peered into her empty cup. “I’m going to the kitchen,” she decided. “Do you want anything?”

“I don’t really drink.”

“Forgot. Sorry.” Alice shrugged and slipped away.

Felix turned back to Breanna and Owen, who were now belting enthusiastically into their mics. An uncomfortable feeling fixed around Felix’s chest, and he turned and followed Alice into the kitchen.

Alice stood alone by the counter, filling her solo cup from a bowl of spiked punch. She glanced up as Felix approached. “Changed your mind?”

“No, I just… wanted to talk to you,” Felix admitted, leaning against the counter. Alice eyed him, bringing her cup to her lips, expectant. Felix hesitantly continued. “Is everything… okay with us?”

Alice took a few extra seconds to set her cup down, stalling. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Felix kept his voice light, raising his eyebrows. Alice’s lips twitched into a smile, then dropped, and she lowered her gaze. “I mean, you’re my closest friend, Alice. I don’t want things to get weird between us just because of one little mistake.”

Alice nodded slowly, continuing to avoid Felix’s gaze. Her fingers drummed over her cup. “I don’t know.”

Felix’s heart fell. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Alice repeated, blue gaze flickering. There was no malice or anger in her quiet voice. At Felix’s startled silence, she continued, turning her body towards him. “I mean, are those… people still in your apartment?”

Felix flushed, glancing away. “Uh… no, no, they’re not.”

Silence stretched between them for a bit too long. Alice’s eyebrows raised pointedly. “They are, aren’t they?”

“No,” Felix insisted lamely.

Alice remained quiet, taking a sip of her drink, and Felix’s stomach twisted. When she finally spoke, it was to say, “I just… I feel hurt.”

“You… what?”

“I’m hurt. I get it, I made a mistake, but you treated me— you’ve been treating me— like I’m this awful person.” Alice’s voice rose suddenly, the redness of her cheeks growing. “You won’t even look at me in rehearsal.”

A cold, heavy feeling settled into Felix’s chest, and he took a step back. Realization hit him like a truck. “Wait, you…”

All this time, he thought that Alice had been intentionally avoiding him. Had he really been ignoring her so pointedly?

“That’s not true,” Felix began quickly, suddenly desperate to explain himself. “I’m just worried for the borrowers.”

Alice’s lips thinned. “Borrowers?”

Shit.

“Alice—”

“What are you worried about?” Alice continued, aghast. “What, that I might take them again? Do you think I haven’t learned my lesson?”

The anger in her face fell away as two more people entered the room. Felix and Alice turned sharply towards Breanna and Owen, who immediately pounced on them.

“Did you hear our song?” Breanna pressed excitedly, not catching onto the tension in the air. “Owen fucked up that high note, did you hear that?”

“I did,” Owen insisted, uncharacteristically proud of his singing voice.

Felix and Alice must have hesitated for a bit too long, because their two friends’ faces immediately dropped, glancing between them.

“Did something happen?” Breanna asked in alarm.

Alice met Felix’s gaze, a glint in her eye. “Why don’t you tell them?” She grumbled, her flush deepening.

The three others jerked back at her hostility. Owen’s eyebrows raised. “Holy shit. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Felix insisted, heart racing.

“It’s not nothing,” Alice snapped.

“How much have you had to drink?” Breanna interrupted, dark eyes wide with concern as she glanced over Alice. Her nervous gaze turned to Felix, as if he might answer her question. “Is she okay?”

Alice sucked in a sharp breath, voice tense. “I’m fine. Felix, for the love of god, just tell them.”

“Tell us what?”

“I’m not gonna— Alice, I’m not supposed to tell—”

“What, you don’t trust them, either?”

Alice’s words made Felix freeze. He blinked rapidly, glancing between his three friends, one of which was glaring menacingly and the other two were uneasily watching. His mouth was dry when he said, “Of course I trust you guys. It’s just… it’s not my secret to tell.”

“Oh, why not?” Alice said exasperatedly, leaning closer. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

For a moment, the only noise in the room was the distant sound of someone singing karaoke, comically juxtaposed to the tension in the kitchen.

Breanna’s voice was quiet. “Guys, maybe you should get some water, sit down—”

“Felix doesn’t trust us,” Alice decided suddenly, jerking away. “He thinks we might hurt his little friends.”

Panic jumped up into Felix’s throat. “Alice.”

“And I did, but barely, and I said sorry, but he still acts like I—”

“Alice!” Felix interjected, chest tight. “Please.”

Alice stared at him for a moment, face flushed, before she tore away from their group and stormed out the door. Breanna stared at Felix, stunned and unsure, before following after Alice.

Felix and Owen were left alone. Owen’s gaze flickered over Felix, curious, silent.

“Owen,” Felix began weakly. “I…”

His friend only lifted his eyebrows, and Felix faltered, leaning back against the counter and bringing a hand to his forehead. The cold feeling had spread from chest throughout his whole body, leaving him feeling numb and unwell.

Felix’s hand knocked into a glass bottle.

Suddenly emboldened by the misery in his chest, Felix turned his head defeatedly. “Let’s do some shots.”

–

The quiet whirr of the AC filled the room as the only background noise. Pepper sat on the back of the couch, absentmindedly stitching up a rip in his jacket, draped over his lap.

After Felix had left, Pepper had chosen to remain seated on the couch, waiting for his friend to return. He didn’t have much to do at his home, and he didn’t see the point of walking all the way back there just yet, since Basil wasn’t there. Yesterday she had expressed her guilt to Pepper that she had been “overstaying her welcome” and “third-wheeling,” and since then she had been exploring the expanse of the apartment building, searching for a nearby place to build a home.

Pepper was worried for her, but he was confident in her abilities to survive on her own. There was no telling when she might return, considering that she might travel all the way back to her original house to explain everything to the borrower family she lived with. He felt guilty that she had gotten caught up in his strange situation with Felix, leaving her feeling like she needed to give them space but also wanting to stick around and provide emotional support to her brother. Moving into her own place in the apartment building seemed like the best solution for the time being.

A sigh let Pepper’s body, and he dropped back, resting his head on the thick surface of the couch. The ceiling stretched high above him, reminding him just how out of place he was in this massive apartment. He had hoped that by spending time in Felix’s apartment by himself, he would grow more comfortable being in such an open space, but his heart still continued to twist every time he remembered how vulnerable he was, out in the open.

The sound of the front door opening made Pepper instinctively sit up, clutching his jacket. The panic that shot through his body flickered away as he registered that it could only be Felix, and he relaxed. He busied himself by finishing up the stitching of his jacket as he waited for Felix to enter the living room.

It took a surprisingly long time. Footsteps filled the kitchen, followed by the occasional bump or clatter. Something in the back of Pepper’s mind hummed concerning, but he barely acknowledged it, turning his head as a tall figure finally appeared in the doorway.

Almost immediately, Pepper sensed that something was wrong.

Felix, at his enormous height, appeared to have lost his ability to stand properly. A large hand grasped the door frame in order to hold himself up, and despite this Felix still managed to sway back and forth, body unsteady. Pepper’s skin prickled uneasily. The blonde hair atop Felix’s head was slightly disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed, and even from across the room Pepper could see the glassiness of his half-lidded eyes as they searched the room.

Pepper’s breath hitched, coldness swarming his chest. He suddenly found that he was frozen, completely isolated on top of the couch. Vulnerability struck him like lightning, and with a dry mouth he shoved his jacket aside, pulling himself to his feet.

That turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Felix’s gaze was tugged towards Pepper’s movement, and when the human’s eyes finally landed on him Pepper’s instincts all but screamed in his mind.

He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with Felix, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out.

Felix didn’t seem to notice the way Pepper’s face had gone pale. The human positively lit up at the sight of the borrower, standing frozen on the back of the couch. “Pepper.”

The borrower’s jaw tightened, unable to pull his gaze away from the unsettling sight of his friend. His breath hitched when Felix suddenly approached, stumbling but still much too fast for comfort, and the borrower backed up as much as he could without tumbling off the couch.

“Felix, wha—!” Alarms shrieked in Pepper’s mind at the sight of two massive, foreboding hands reaching for him, and before he could even think to run he was being swept up into a grip far more powerful than he could ever hope to be. “Hey!”

His heart raced in panic. Felix’s unusually clumsy fingers somehow managed to be both too tight and not tight enough, and Pepper gasped, latching onto the fingers around him lest he fall through. The sudden terror that gripped his throat was suffocating.

For the first time since their first meeting, Felix had picked Pepper up without warning.

“Look at you,” Felix cooed, words slurring. The pink of his cheeks was much more visible from so close, rosy and warm. “You’re so cute.”

Pepper’s breath shuddered, gray eyes wide and startled. Felix was holding him close to his face, closer than he ever had before, allowing the scent of alcohol to hit the borrower and bring the realization crashing down that Felix was drunk.

Hot panic filled Pepper’s chest as he searched Felix’s soft, glassy blue eyes. His lack of experience with alcohol had not prepared him for anything like this. He barely even understood its purpose or effects, let alone how to deal with a giant who was so incredibly drunk he had forgotten how to hold a borrower properly.

Pepper swallowed thickly, heels sliding on Felix’s palm. Felix’s forefinger and thumb were tight around Pepper’s torso, bunching the borrower’s shirt up uncomfortably. His gaze wandered Felix’s face, at an absolute loss of what to do.

“Felix,” Pepper said slowly, carefully. Fear crept up into his throat. “Felix, put me down.”

He couldn’t tell if Felix was listening, or if he could even understand him. He was answered by a sudden punch of vertigo, the air rushing up around him, drawing an exclamation from his chest. “Ah!”

Felix had collapsed onto the couch, knocking the wind out of Pepper’s lungs. The borrower gasped for breath, squirming in Felix’s grip, gaze dancing as he searched for some sort of escape route.

“I missed you,” Felix announced, haphazardly ruffling Pepper’s hair with a finger. The borrower jerked away, startled. “The party— the party wasn’t good.”

Felix spoke as if the words weren’t fitting properly in his mouth, unusual and misshapen.

“Felix,” Pepper said again, breaths quick and uneven. How long did it take for alcohol to wear off? He had no idea. “You should— put— put me down.”

“I don’t want to,” Felix responded, warm and bright. The words made Pepper’s blood run cold. “You’re— I want… you’re my soulmate.”

“I— I know—” Pepper shivered, pushing anxiously at the fingers around him. He couldn’t handle such close proximity to Felix’s face and his large, warm fingers overwhelming him. They usually were so gentle.

Felix wasn’t hurting him, but there was a distinct lack of care in the way he was handling Pepper, clumsily and oppressive. Pepper didn’t think that Felix would hurt him intentionally, but the idea that he might accidentally be harmed was very, very prominent in his mind.

“You’re my soulmate and you’re tiny,” Felix suddenly giggled, poking at Pepper’s trembling chest.

Before Pepper could process what was happening, Felix lost his balance and fell to the side. Pepper yelped, tumbling onto the soft cushion of the couch, catching his breath only when Felix had propped himself up on his elbows, gaze bleary.

The realization that Felix was now hovering over Pepper, shoulders large and towering, sent Pepper’s panic skyrocketing all over again. The borrower scrambled back until he bumped into the arm of the couch.

“Oh,” Felix said, as if he only just realized that he had collapsed. His forearms trapped Pepper into a box, and he blinked several times as he processed the borrower standing only a few inches in front of his face. “Be careful.”

With the massive hands next to him, and the arm of the couch behind him, Pepper had nowhere to go. His lips tightened, processing Felix’s words. “Felix?”

“You’re… little,” Felix hiccuped, moving his hands to cradle Pepper from behind. “You could get hurt.”

Pepper took a moment to steady his breathing, glancing at the hands behind him. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Felix, just don’t—”

In one quick movement, Felix swept Pepper into his palm. He leaned forward, and suddenly he was pressing his soft lips into Pepper’s chest in a big, clumsy kiss.

Shock exploded into Pepper’s heart. The heat that radiated from Felix was overwhelming, enveloping the borrower in fire. The lips against Pepper’s body were soft but so underlyingly powerful, and all he could think about was how close he was to a giant’s mouth and how easily said giant could trap him between his teeth without a second’s thought.

The light pressure vanished as Felix pulled away, then erupted into a fit of giggles, so uncharacteristic for him. Pepper blinked up at him, face scarlet.

“I kissed you,” Felix whispered teasingly, as if he was sharing a secret.

Embarrassment crept into Pepper’s face, growing even hotter. He slowly straightened up, examining Felix’s face. “You— you should go to bed,” he forced out, voice wobbling.

Thankfully, Felix actually seemed to register what he was saying, and he nodded. His large, clumsy hands tightened around Pepper, securing him as he pulled himself to his feet, leaving the borrower gasping for a few seconds.

Pepper only realized what was happening when Felix made his way over to his bedroom, the borrower held against his chest. “Hang on,” he called, heart racing. “Wait. You don’t need to take me with you.”

Pepper rarely ever entered Felix’s bedroom. Not only was there nothing of use in here that he couldn't find in the living room, but it just felt like an invasion of privacy, even before he had become friends with Felix. He felt guilty being in here while Felix was under the influence and clearly not entirely aware of what was happening.

“Oh— wait, waitwaitwait—”

Felix unceremoniously flopped down onto his bed, cradling Pepper against him and knocking the wind out of the borrower. The world spun for a moment, and Pepper took a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling. The ground below him was soft and warm.

“Goodnight, Pepper,” Felix said with a yawn.

His voice had floated from somewhere above Pepper’s head, making the borrower freeze and register exactly where he was.

The soft fabric of Felix’s shirt. The distant heartbeat. The gentle sway of enormous breaths.

Pepper was sprawled out on Felix’s chest, enveloped by a hand larger than himself. The panic that had spiked in Pepper’s body slowly subsided into uneasy breathing, and the borrower attempted to sit up.

“Felix,” Pepper said weakly, squirming. The hand atop of him was heavy, pinning him down effortlessly by its weight alone. “I don’t sleep here.”

“Hmm,” Felix responded noncommittally, the noise rumbling deep in his chest. Pepper’s breath caught in his throat, face warm.

“Felix,” he demanded, trying to twist so that he could look up at the human. He was met by silence, and the slow movement of sleeping lungs below him.

Pepper’s heart continued to pound, much louder than the heart thudding away below him. Felix’s hand wasn’t hurting him, just very slightly pinning him down, cradling him against the warm chest below him. This was the closest he had ever been to Felix in his life.

It wasn’t exactly… uncomfortable.

He tentatively shoved at the hand one more time, then promptly gave up, flopping down with a huff. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the idle sounds of the air conditioning and Felix’s breathing, before taking a deep breath and slumping his shoulders. Forcing himself to shift into a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes, sank into the heat surrounding him, and prayed that Felix wasn’t the type to move in his sleep.

-------

YAAAYYYYYY DRUNK GIANTS :DDDDD

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had fun writing it :))

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan

#pepper & felix #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #borrowers #drunk giants

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thebestofoneshots · 2 days

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.9 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: It was nice to be in Remus' arms, but now it's time to face the real world. Will you be able to do it? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Disclaimer: Vixen’s coping mechanisms are not healthy, please go to therapy and actually process your feelings instead <3

Chapter 47: Let Me Take You Home Tonight

You walked alongside Remus through the tunnel. The floor was cold against your bare feet, and the more you walked, the more you could feel the pain caused by the blisters in your soles. You wondered for a moment if that’s what ballerinas felt after wearing pointe shoes.

Remus kept throwing glances at you as you walked, you thought you were good at hiding it, but he could hear your jaw clenching and your ragged breath as you moved, sometimes cutting short from stepping on something sharp.

“Do you want to take my shoes?” he asked you.

“What?” you asked confused as you turned to him. “No, I’m–” you wanted to say fine, you weren’t sure you could make it sound believable, “It’ll be better once Pomfrey gets a look, I’m sure.”

“But until then, you’d be in pain.”

You sighed, “You know fae don’t normally wear shoes.”

“You’re only a quarter fae,” he responded. “And they live in the woods, and fly.”

You huffed in response to that, he wasn’t wrong. But still, you weren’t going to take his shoes. Your feet were already hurt, his weren’t.

“Can I borrow your wand?” you asked as you turned to him, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.

You took it in your hands and waved it over your feet “Episkey,” you whispered, the same spell you had used to fix Peter’s nose before his date. It didn’t completely heal your feet, but the blisters were gone and walking wasn’t as painful as before.

You didn’t like using healing spells, they tended to be complicated and could go awfully wrong, especially without your actual wand, but you already knew Remus’ wand liked you since she had allowed you to use it in the past, so you decided to risk it, if only to bring Remus some peace of mind.

“Thank you,” you added as you straightened back up and handed over his wand.

“Are you sure you don’t want them?” he insisted, half pulling one and you just shook your head again in response. His offer was sweet, awfully sweet, but you wouldn’t have him feel pain at your stake, two people had done that for you in the last 24 hours, and neither of them had survived.

Remus still wasn’t convinced, but he walked alongside you, nonetheless. He knew you were still in pain, and he wanted to do anything he could to help you, but he also knew what it was like to be in pain and be constantly reminded about it by people, so he decided to let you have it, he’d take care of you once you were with Pomfrey.

By the time you arrived at the end of the hallway, you saw the small hole you’d have to climb, the one that was much easier to climb as Vixen than as yourself, and you wondered how Remus had gotten used to it.

“Wait here,” he said as he climbed up the area with ease, placing his feet and hand on strategic places to make his ascent much easier. He was insanely good at it, almost like Spider-Man. A few seconds passed and then you saw his hand drop back inside, “All right, the Willow is calm now, come on up.”

You used one of the spots he had used to propel yourself forward and grabbed onto his outstretched hand, your own closing around his forearm as he did the same to yours. And then he helped you up almost the rest of the way. Hauling you towards him like you weighed nothing.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you stepped outside, the light being a little harsh on your dark accustomed eyes, which had you narrow them as you looked ahead. The ground was still filled with snow, and you still didn’t have shoes. You looked at your bare feet for a second before turning to Remus.

“May I borrow your wand again?” you asked with a sigh.

“What are you going to do? Melt the snow?” he asked in disbelief.

“I was planning to use a warming spell…” you admitted.

“Ridiculous.”

“I’m still not going to take your shoes.”

“Yeah I know, you’re stubborn as hell,” he said with a huff as he crouched down in front of you, “Come on, hop in.”

“You’re planning to piggyback ride me all the way to the castle? You are the ridiculous one!”

“What? Like it would be hard,” he said as he turned his head towards you. You gave him a suspicious look in return. “Hello? The best friend who also happens to be a werewolf? Superhuman strength, and all that, ringing any bells?”

You sighed, “But Remus–”

“But Remus me one more time and I will carry you without consent, you have been warned.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wanna test it?” he asked, as he raised one of his eyebrows.

He just might, you thought as you shook your head and did what you were told.

“See?” he said as he straightened up and started to walk, “Was it that hard?”

“Yes,” you said with a pout as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Remus was awfully comfortable, but you supposed he had always been, “I don’t want to be burdensome,” you mumbled, “the moon was just a couple of days ago, you must still be sore–”

“You are not burdensome,” he said almost instantly. Emphasising the “not” in the very articulated way he used to talk when he was in presentations.

“You’re too nice,” you mumbled as you dug your head deeper into his shoulder, your lips brushing against his neck causing him to shiver. “You cold?” you asked.

“No,” he responded.

“Are you sure?” you insisted, you had felt him tremble, “I could cast a warming spell around the two of us,” you added as you extended your hand in an attempt to get a hold of his wand, but that just caused your lips to brush against his neck again.

“I’m good,” he repeated as he shoved you back with his shoulder, not too sharp, but enough to drive your mouth away from his neck. That’s when you noticed.

You frowned, and then a devious smile appeared on your lips, “Are you… ticklish?” you asked tentatively.

“What? Why do you want to know?” Remus asked with a frown, his head turning your way.

“Just curious,” you replied with an innocent shrug. Remus gave you a side glance and then turned back to the castle. You had already crossed the entrance archway and were a lot closer than you’d been before. You smiled, and leaned a little closer to him again, taking in a deep breath and blowing some warm air straight to his neck.

Remus’ hair stood on end as you did that, and his step faltered as if he was about to trip, but he recovered, “What the–” he couldn’t even finish since you did it again.

“Vixen!” he complained, you just laughed. It was torture, but there was something magical about your unabashed laugh that he wasn’t sure if he really wanted you to stop or not. When you did it again, this time blowing closer to his ear, he couldn’t hold back the cackle that escaped his lips.

“Oi! Please stop!” He managed to say in between chuckles.

“But I’m trying to warm you,” you said innocently and blew again.

Remus tried to use his shoulder to push you away from his neck but was unsuccessful, he didn’t want to let go of your legs since he knew then you’d slide off him so he continued moving his shoulders in an attempt to stop you.

“Little Witch!” he whined.

“What?” you asked, “You’re cold, I’m just trying to help.”

“Such a vicious lie–” he couldn’t even finish, since you blew again, this time, he actually tripped and the two of you ended up spiralling down in the snow.

Remus attempted to break the fall, but the way he tripped didn’t help him much, so you were the one to hit the snow first, and due to the way you were grabbing onto him, he ended up in between your legs with his head being cushioned by your stomach.

There was a second of silence, in which you tried to breathe in some of the air that had escaped your lungs from the sharp fall, but you started to laugh right after. Remus raised his head from your stomach to look at you, to check if you were all right and was surprised to see you smiling so brightly.

“Look at you,” you said as you grabbed his head with both of your hands. “You’re so red, I had no idea you were that ticklish! The mighty werewolf, who would have thought?”

“I thought you were hungry,” he said as he tried to shake your hands off. He hadn’t blushed just because you were blowing air in his neck, or perhaps it had been because it was you the one doing it.

“I am, but messing with you is better than eating,” you replied with a smile and then shivered involuntarily.

He noticed instantly and scrambled into a standing position. Pulling you up so fast it took you some time to regain balance, “Remus!” you argued at his harshness but he ignored you, pulling you up and slinging you across his shoulder. “Remus!”

“I warned you, Sweetheart,” he said simply, starting a much quicker pace to the castle, even inside, he didn’t let go of you.

“Remus, what are you–” you asked as you noticed the path he was taking, “I would have walked to the infirmary,” you said with a huff.

“Rather not to risk it,” he said simply.

When you reached the infirmary, he dropped you into one of the beds and went straight to talk to Pomfrey as you stretched and sat on the edge of the mattress.

She looked at you with a worried sigh as she passed her wand over your body. “You were slightly hypothermic when he found you,” she said as she leaned down to check both of your feet. It felt weird, you had gotten hurt so often lately and you had avoided the infirmary like the plague most of the times that, being checked by a medic felt odd. Like you couldn’t deal with your pain by yourself, which was absolutely ridiculous, even Remus went to the infirmary and he was tougher than you.

You hummed in response to that, “Rem helped me warm up,” you added. She gave a side glance to the boy, he was blushing, and Remus didn’t blush often, she nodded.

“Remus, darling, could you please leave us alone for a second?” He hesitated but nodded, and walked outside. “Darling, he did more than just warm you,” she said. “News fly fast here, I heard of everything that happened, how’s your magic?”

You took a deep breath, “It’s… It’s all right,” you said honestly. “It was almost gone after the Fiendfyre but it’s much better today.”

She nodded, she could feel it, you were pretty much refuelled, it would have taken any normal witch days to refuel after something like that, she had heard about you being mixed race but she suspected your speed recovery had a lot more to do with Remus than it did with you.

“Please lay on the bed.” She was checking your knees and dabbing some potions on them with a small cotton ball. “Why did you come here?”

“Here?” you asked with a frown.

“Instead of Saint Mungo’s, instead of home?”

“I don’t think I have one of those anymore,” you admitted as you avoided her gaze. “My father cannot be happy with what I did. Hogwarts was the safest place for me. And… I should probably speak to Dumbledore.”

“You should rest first,” she corrected, “politics can wait.”

You threw her a worried glance, and she gave you a “no-nonsense” sort of gaze, you had you hold back your argument.

Still, it wasn’t politics, it was a matter of life and…

You didn’t want to think much about it either. She checked your breathing, and your face, even pulling your sleeve up slightly to check the bite you had given yourself.

“That’ll take a bit longer to heal,” she said, she easily noticed it hadn’t been a simple human tooth to tear through the skin, and while she wasn’t sure how exactly you had managed to do it, she knew it had to do with a transfiguration.

“I assumed it would,” you agreed and covered your arm with your sleeve again. You were pretty sure Remus hadn’t seen it, and you didn’t need him to see yet another way in which you had been hurt. Seeing you bawl your eyes out last night was enough. Merlin, he must think I’m so weak.

“I don’t know the full scope of the story, luv,” she said slowly as if she wasn’t sure if he should speak or not. “But… From what Dumbledore told me in his note, which he heard from someone who was also at the dinner, you ended up in the situation you did because you tried to help a muggle-born who was being tortured by the Dark Lord. That was very brave of you.”

You turned to look at her, there was somewhat of a reverential tone in the way she was looking at you that made your throat knot. You weren’t a hero, you didn’t want to be perceived as one either, especially not with how things had ended up.

Nina was gone and you would have diеd if Barty Crouch of all people hadn’t helped you get the fuck out. You would have cried over her until Lucius used a spell that wiped you off the map. You had tried to make justice and you had succeeded at nothing but making things worse and getting people killed.

You tried and failed. You weren’t a hero, you were a failure. You hadn’t been brave, you had been reckless and stupid. But if things happened all over again, would you have allowed Nina to be tortured? Would you have allowed Bellatrix to kill her?

Of course not.

“She still diеd,” you said, avoiding her gaze entirely.

Pomfrey placed her hand over yours, “I don’t know many that would have tried, darling,” she reassured. “She was lucky to have you as a friend.”

You didn’t want to cry again, but her words had been enough to crack you up. She brought you close to her chest and rubbed your back as you sobbed. You hated it, the feeling of tears streaming down your face, it made you feel weak.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and tried to wipe your face again. Pomfrey had been patient and kind and she even handed over a small, cloth handkerchief for you to wipe the tears away. “Here, take this, darling,” she said as she handed over a bottle of pepperup potion. “It’ll help the rest of the chills go away,” she explained. “One sip every two hours, It’s just for precautions.”

She had cured your feet and knees, the bite you had given yourself didn’t hurt anymore and after taking a bit of the potion, the shivering was gone.

“Will I have to stay the night?” you asked her.

She gave you a long look, after what you’d been through, the last thing that you’d want was to stay at an infirmary. Would she rather have you stay? Sure she would. But while she was worried about your physical state, she also knew the emotional one was important, and you looked like you needed a bit of normalcy and quiet. She sighed, “You may go back to your common room.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then Remus walked inside. He had a backpack slung across his shoulder as he walked inside. “Will she stay the night?” he asked.

“Just got cleared up,” you replied. He could see you had been crying again.

“Really?” He asked Pomfrey with a frown. He had planned to stay at the infirmary overnight with you.

“Really,” Pomfrey nodded. “But no walking around barefoot. A warm bath will probably do you good.”

Remus gave you the “I told you so” look and pulled a pair of slippers you must have left in his room one of the nights you stayed over.

You smiled and stood up while popping them on, then the two of you walked towards the exit.

“Remus?” The Mediwitch called as he was about to step out.

“Yes?” he asked, turning his head towards her.

“Keep taking care of her like you’ve been doing.”

He smiled and nodded, “Will do!”

“I brought you some of Sirius’ clothes,” Remus said as he nodded to the backpack behind him, "I thought she’d have you stay the night.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “But it looks like I wasn’t that bad off to begin with. She said you helped a lot last night.”

Remus shrugged in response.

You got to the common room and it was completely empty, “No other Gryffindors stayed over?” You asked as you walked the stairs alongside him.

“A first year and a third year,” he said. “They must be in Hogsmeade with Minnie now,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh,” you responded simply. He opened the door to his room and the two of you walked inside.

“Remus,” a voice said from the radio. “Remus, are you there?”

You smiled, it was Sirius. You turned to Remus, questioning and he nodded. You walked straight to his bed, where the radio lay and sat down right in front of him, looking for the microphone. Once you got a hold of it, you pressed the side button like you had seen people do in movies. “Roger that soldier, the squad is on their way,” you said in a deeper voice.

There was no answer from the other side, Remus pulled out the mirror to see what was happening. Sirius was looking at James with a confused face.

“Soldier, do you copy?” you insisted.

Remus barely kept a straight face.

“…Starshine?!” Sirius asked, half doubtful.

You smiled, debating whether to continue with the prank or not, “Indeed, Pups,” you replied, in your voice.

Remus saw the instant relief of Sirius through the mirror, and James leaned a little bit closer to the radio as well.

“How ARE you?” he asked.

Right, Sirius had seen it all.

“Well, Remus and Pomfrey took care of me,” you replied with a shrug, even if he couldn’t see it. Your demeanour had changed like rapid fire, it’s like you did everything you could to shove last night to a dark part and completely forget about it but people kept bringing it up.

He saw Sirius sigh on the other side, and he turned to the mirror, spotting Remus looking at him attentively, he pressed the button. “Kit, that’s not what I–” He sent Remus a questioning look, Remus shook his head in response. He could talk to you about it later when you actually wanted to talk about it. “Did you like my gift?”

“I loved it!” you said, happy he didn’t ask much more about last night. Remus walked next to you on the bed and handed the mirror over.

You looked at both Sirius and James sitting on the bed, Sirius looked like he had slept about as well as you had, there were deep dark circles under his eyes. If he had seen what you had… He might be the only person besides Remus, who understood what you were feeling, or at least had a vague idea of it, and yet… you refused to talk about it.

Not now, not through the damn radio, you tried to justify yourself. You were well aware ignoring your feelings wasn’t quite healthy, but you didn’t know a better way to cope either. Crying until you were tired wasn’t exactly a better option either, not now when you still had things to do. Maybe after the war was over, after your friends were safe, then you’d allow yourself to cry.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked with a smile. You nodded in return, looking at him through the mirror. He was wearing one of the shirts you’d gotten him. “I loved what you sent me,” he responded. “I’ve already been practising some watercolour stuff.”

Good, this was good, as if nothing had happened.

“Me too,” James intervened by snatching the microphone away from Sirius. “I mean I haven’t been practising watercolour, but I loved your gifts.”

You send him a wink through the mirror and spend about half an hour chatting with them about anything other than what had happened.

At some point, the boys had to go for lunch and you said a quick goodbye to them before allowing yourself to recline back on Remus’ bed. You wanted to keep your mind entertained, “We should go to the library,” you said out of a sudden, “or to eat, you said I could eat after Pomfrey.”

“You should bathe first, she said a warm bath should help you feel better,” Remus said as he placed his hand on your head to check your temperature. You were still borderline cold.

You checked the clock and took a sip of the pepperup potion Pomfrey had given you. Smoke came out of your ears for a couple of seconds. You were thankful for the fact that you didn’t have to drink it all in one go, you didn’t like the smoke thing one bit. It wasn’t painful, but you didn’t find it exactly comfortable either.

“Yes Mum,” you said as you let yourself sink deeper into the bed.

“Well then?”

“I don’t want to leave,” you whined, and you really didn’t. Being alone would only have you spiralling deep in your head, and in your thoughts, and nothing good could come from that. You turned to look at him, “Why don’t you read to me instead?”

“Why don’t you get an audiobook?” he retorted almost without thinking, “Besides I thought you were hungry.”

“Doesn’t sound as nice as you do, and I’m starving,” you said as you turned back to the ceiling with a sigh. Remus attempted to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks by turning to the side.

“I’ll read to you after you take a warm bath like Pomfrey instructed. I’ll even read while you eat if you want.”

You pouted in return, but you did want to change into anything other than the black dress you still had on –even if Remus’ jumper over it was warm– so you decided the deal was fair.

You stood up and walked towards the door. “What are you doing? Just use our bathroom,” Remus said as he pointed to said place’s door.

“Clothes,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Want me to get them for you?”

“And you’ll pick my underwear?” you teased with a smile. Remus couldn’t help but blush at the thought and you laughed openly at him. “Ugh, you’re such a prude. I can barely believe you were fucking Alice for like 3 months.”

“Oi!” he complained with a frown. “She never asked me to pick out her underwear.”

“Poor thing,” you said with a pout.

“As if Sirius had ever picked your underwear.”

“Oh, do you wanna know what else he got me for Christmas?” He hadn’t gotten you anything of the sort, but the more you spoke, the redder Remus became, and you thought it was adorable.

“Get your clothes, I’ll run the bath for you,” he said as he pretty much pushed you out of the room.

“Not too hot!” you said as he closed the door in your face. He heard you say a short “hmph” and walked down the stairs. He leaned his head against the door and had to breathe deeply for a couple of seconds to cool down.

Had Sirius really gotten you underwear for Christmas? He didn’t tell him about it… And they had discussed presents rather often. Then again, would he even mention that sort of stuff to me? he wondered. He stayed at the door for a few more minutes and then he walked to the bathroom, sitting down on the edge of the tub as he opened the water tap, first hot, and then just a bit of cold.

Remus was a hot water shower kind of guy, borderline scalding, so when he measured the temperature, he picked it a little hotter than the standard person would. But then again, he didn’t know how long you’d take, so the water might cool down by the time you came back.

No such luck, you had been quick on your feet, as soon as you got to the room stripping the black dress you’d been wearing. It was a stunning piece at the beginning of the night, now it had been torn and worn out from the fall, there was dried bIood clinging to the skirt and to the edges of the sleeves, both yours and Nina’s. You didn’t want to see the dress again, so you threw it in the laundry with a note for the elves, asking them kindly to get rid of it.

You would have done it yourself, but you still didn’t have a wand and attempting evanesco without one seemed like the recipe for disaster.

After that, you grabbed a simple pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. You also took a jumper that you had swiped from Remus and then placed it all in your backpack along with some toiletries. You were thankful you hadn’t packed any of your clothes to take home, although there were some things there you would miss. The clothes you had been wearing on the trip –Remus’ brown jumper and Sirius’ shirt–, the cute stuffed animal you’d gotten from the Slytherins, the books, and… of course, Sirius’ lovely drawing.

You almost broke down to cry again, the realisation that you’d never be able to go back home, that you would never eat your mother’s soup, hitting you like a truck as you thought of the things left behind. But as your eyes watered and your breath started running short you stood up hastily. Tears wouldn’t come if you didn’t give them enough time.

You took a bathrobe, wrapped it around yourself, and then took hold of the clothing assortment you’d picked, walking back to the boys’ room faster than you could process your feelings. You had to make sure the other students weren’t around as you crossed the common room, without a wand, there was no disillusionment charm, and without that, you could easily be spotted.

You walked inside the boys’ room as fast as you could, and you heard the water running, you assumed Remus was still inside, so you knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Remus said softly. “You okay?” he asked the minute he saw your face.

“Totally,” you lied. However, could you be okay? “I got the clothes,” you added as you moved the heap up just a bit to call attention to it. Remus looked at you as he dipped his hand in the water, it was bubbly and it smelled really nice.

“I added some pain reliever potions Pomfrey’s given me,” he said. You gave him a look. Last time you’d taken his medicine, things had been problematic. “I checked a book, it says they’re safe. And I didn’t use that much either.”

“You know, I’m not really in pain,” you said, not physical, at least.

“Yeah bet,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. You reached towards the tub and dug your hand in as well, pulling it out almost an instant later.

“Shit, it’s too hot.”

“It’s just warm,” Remus argued.

You shook your head in response. It was hot enough to be uncomfortable. You pulled his hand out of the water and took it in yours, “Have you already fried your heat receptors?”

Remus narrowed his eyes at you and pulled his hand away from your grasp “Haha, very funny” -he stood- “Hurry up, I’m hungry too.”

He was about to leave the bathroom when you stood up as well, “Wait, may I borrow your wand?”

Remus handed it over without questioning and then exited the room. You turned back at the tub, it was scalding.

“Relashio gelida,” you said, a stream of freezing cold water left Remus’ wand. After a couple of minutes, you stopped the stream and checked the water again. It was still warm but not scalding anymore. You stripped and got in. The smell and the potions relaxing you in an instant. You didn’t want to take too long, so you busied yourself rubbing off some of the dirt and cleaning the dried patches of bIood. You sank completely under the water, blinking as you looked up at the stone ceiling, a little blurry due to the bubbly water. I didn’t hurt your eyes though, whatever potions Remus had used, prevented the soap from actually sinking into them.

Not that you would have minded the little sting, all you wanted was a little moment of quiet under the water. She had always been a calming force for you. You remembered once reading that mermaids couldn’t cry, since they were already inside the water. You liked the idea of being able to cry without people noticing. You stayed there until your lungs cried for air and you resurfaced enough to let your face out of the water, you took a deep breath and sighed, closing your eyes and figuring it was about time for you to finish up.

You changed quickly and found Remus sitting outside, a book in his hands. You were still drying your hair as you stepped into his room. Remus thought you looked adorable as you brushed the towel over your head. The crisp white shirt you’d chosen made you look angelic in his eyes.

“Let’s get some food,” you said as you left your hair alone and brushed it with your fingers. You’d let it air dry as you ate. The castle was warm enough to not have to worry about drying it.

Remus nodded and the two of you walked down to the Great Hall. It was almost empty, there were a few students cuddled up at some tables. Like 5 Slytherins sitting with Ravenclaws, and then there were 3 younger Hufflepuffs at their own table.

“I guess they chose not to go to Hogsmeade,” you said as you sat down.

“Some of them didn’t get permission from their parents,” Remus explained. “Enid and Niall for example,” he said pointing at the Hufflepuffs, “they are half-bIoods, their parents forbade them from going because of all the incidents they’ve read in the papers, they were scared.”

“And they should be,” you said, thinking back to the pile of dеad bodies back in Rosier Manor. The feast wasn’t as big as it was normally, but a decent assortment of food appeared right in front of you as you sat. There were desserts, and fruits and pasta and even some pies, but most importantly for you at that moment, there was meat.

You grabbed onto a few sausages bacon and a piece of steak and started munching on it the instant they appeared. Remus helpfully filled up a cup of your favourite juice for you and passed it over, before serving himself one.

He, despite claiming he was hungry earlier, took his time preparing himself a sandwich before he placed anything in his mouth. You felt like you were devouring your food in comparison to the much calmer demeanour he kept as he munched on his sandwich and ate some chips.

“I’m thinking about writing my parents,” he said after taking a sip from his juice. You turned to him and nodded. “But I’m not sure if… I mean would you rather stay here or do you wanna come with us?”

“You mean come to your house?”

Remus shrugged in response “I mean, the change of scenery could help clear your mind… and we could visit James and Sirius at some point too…” He seemed slightly hesitant as he spoke.

“Are you sure your parents would want me at their house, though?”

He frowned, “why wouldn’t they?”

“I mean… Pomfrey’d heard about the dinner, I pretty much openly opposed Voldemort, there’s probably a huge target for my head, that’s why I came straight to Hogwarts.”

“Oh, they won’t care,” Remus said. “We can ask Dumbledore if he thinks it’s safe if you want. If not we can just stay here until the break is over–“

“–I can stay here,” you interrupted. “Remus, your mum must miss you a lot. She hasn’t seen you in months, you’re not going to stay just because of me.”

“Mum has Dad, she won’t be alone if I don’t go,” he said simply. “If you stay, I’ll stay.”

“Talk to them first,” you insisted. “When were you supposed to leave?”

“Tonight,” he admitted. “I’m meant to see Dumbledore after dinner, he’ll let me use his office’s floo network.”

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but the idea of spending tonight alone was unnerving. Of course, you couldn’t keep clinging onto Remus like a leech, no matter how comforting he might be.

“I’m going to the owlery,” he said as he stood up, “I’ll write them, we’ll have an answer before then.”

“I should speak to Dumbledore,” you said as you too stood up, you turned towards the teacher’s table, “you think he’ll be at his office?”

He shrugged, “I’ll come with, it’s on my way anyway.”

You nodded, secretly thankful that he’d offered to walk you there, since you weren’t sure how to get to Dumbledore’s office. Yes, you had been at the school and you knew your way around secret passageways and to and from classrooms as much as anyone, but you hadn’t been to his office since the very start of the year, you didn’t even remember ever seeing it again.

Once the two of you were in front of the statue, Remus waited for you to ring the bell and for the statue to roll around revealing the set of stairs before nodding at you and continuing on his way. It was strangely reminiscent of that time you’d met him, the sexy pirate from the romance novels, you remembered. You had been through so much with him, that the initial meeting seemed to you like it had been years ago, instead of months.

The statue behind you clicked into position and you took a deep breath and walked upstairs, ready to talk to Dumbledore, even if you weren’t eager to relive the night’s events.

“I was expecting you to come,” he said calmly, “please sit,” he added as he gestured towards his chair. You swallowed and did as told. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly, still alive,” you responded.

There was a faint smile on his face, almost imperceptible, but you had noticed the way the corner of his mouth curled, even if just for a second. “I wouldn’t say surprising,” he said, “I’ve been informed you’re a very capable witch.”

You held back the amused scoff that threatened to leave your mouth by clenching your jaw before you decided to speak again, changing the drive of the conversation. “How much do you know?” He curled an eyebrow. “Of last night, I mean.”

“There was a fire at the Christmas Party, people diеd, your mother, among them.”

“It was a Deatheater Party,” you said coldly, “Voldemort was there, they called him Tom.”

He nodded as if he was aware of that. “They were torturing people, you intervened to stop Mrs. Lestrange from using an unforgivable on Nina Blythe. Her mother had already passed, unfortunately. Nobody’s seen her since the disaster.”

You struggled to say the next words, “She didn’t make it.”

The man nodded, somberly, “I assumed as much when you arrived with Madam Pomfrey and she didn’t. You wouldn’t have left her behind.”

He was right, you didn’t even want to leave her behind when she had passed. “Barty Crouch Jr. and Evan Rosier helped me escape.”

“The same Slytherins that–”

“–Yes,” you cut him off, you didn’t like being rude to your elders, but you didn’t want to hear from that moon either. The fact that the two boys had helped you still being hard to process. The same hands that had left you bruised one night had grabbed onto you to get you out of there alive, it didn’t make sense. “There were a lot of people there. I don’t know all of their names, but I tried to gather as many as I could. I’m sorry if I can no longer be of use.”

Dumbledore frowned, “No longer be of use?”

“I can’t spy for you anymore.”

“Ahhh,” he said, seeming to understand. “Nightshade didn’t ask to train you just because she thought you’d be a useful spy. Neither did I. We wanted you to join the Order of the Phoenix.”

“The what?”

Dumbledore explained to you what the Order was, that while your family connections had been initially a big reason for your recruitment, it had been your performance in classes, and the friendships you had formed that really got Nightshade to choose you. You had shown no bIood-based bias, you had openly defied pure-bIoods.

“We think you’d be an incredible addition to our ranks,” he added.

You gulped as you stared at his desk, trying to process everything he’d told you, “You… you want me to fight in the war,” you said, as if putting it into words made it any more real than it already was.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he stared at you and nodded, “Perhaps then you’ll be able to continue protecting those you love.”

“But– there are much more experienced wizards, there– I almost diеd last night.”

“Yes, and you were willing to risk your life to protect someone you love,” he said. “That makes you better for the task of fighting a war than most, no matter how qualified they might be.”

You swallowed again, be it bravery or recklessness the reason that you had done what you did, you were now being offered…

“A chance to stop it from happening again,” he finished.

You looked at him with a frown, you were sure your occlumency was up, and you instantly tested your mind shields. They were still up, Dumbledore gave you a long look, and you realised he hadn’t been reading your mind, but rather your reactions and your body language. The way your jaw clenched and your body tensed when he said certain things. You breathed, relaxing your body as much as you could before speaking again, “Okay,” you said simply.

Dumbledore nodded, and you were about to stand, halfway up your chair before you sat down again and leaned a little closer, “I came here because it was the only safe place I could think of that Barty could help me apparate to.”

“It was very wise,” he noted.

“But… Remus will leave tonight. He asked his parents if I could come with them, but I won’t if my being with them puts them at risk.”

“Do you want to go?” He asked calmly.

You were taken aback by his question. Of course you did, you didn’t want to be left alone. “Not if it risks anyone’s life,” you repeated.

He nodded and gave you a long look, “From what I gather, the deatheaters are not looking for you at the present moment. They think you’re too weak, and that you’ll return home by yourself. Your father will probably be there, waiting for you.” He took a deep breath and then continued, “Is there a way in which he can track you? A magic item or something he’s given you?”

“No,” you responded. You had many magic items, but none by which he could track you. Not even the ring your mother had given you.

“Then it should be safe for you to go, as long as you don’t call too much attention to yourself. The Lupins live in a cottage near the sea in Wales at the moment. Small muggle town, no wizards live there to my knowledge.”

You nodded as he gave you all the information, “So, I wouldn’t put them in danger by going?”

“You would not,” he reassured.

“Okay, thank you,” you said as you stood up, something akin to a smile drawing itself on your lips.

Dumbledore merely nodded as he saw you walk towards his door and descend down the stairs, a mischievous look on his face, as if he was both amazed by and compassionate of you.

You walked down and found Remus sitting on a nearby bench, writing some things down in a small notebook. His face lit up when he spotted you, “How did it go?” he asked.

“He knew a lot of it already, I gave him the details and wrote a list of all the names I remembered.

The two of you walked towards the common room by each other and sat near the fire. Remus had extended his legs over the table and you let your head fall over his lap, closing your eyes when he turned on the radio and played one of the tapes you had sent them. “You still want me to read?” he asked.

You shrugged in response. “I’ve got this book,” he told you, pulling it out of his back, “or we could do one of yours?”

“Your book,” you said, you hadn’t even opened your eyes.

“You really want me to read advanced arithmancy?” he asked. You frowned and opened your eyes, he gave you an amused look as you took the book from his hand to revise the title.

“Your nose will grow,” you said as you read the title. It was not Advanced Arithmancy.

“You weren’t even looking,” he said simply. “The book’s fine?”

You nodded, and he started reading. Remus was an incredibly good reader, and you lost yourself on the story as he read, his hand had absentmindedly found your hair and he was carefully brushing his fingers over your scalp, like he often saw you do to comfort Sirius, you had done it to him a couple of times too, and he loved every minute of it.

You were both so immersed in the story that neither of you realised there was an owl knocking on a window until a boy from 2nd year walked down the stairs and asked if anyone was expecting mail.

You turned to look at Remus and he moved the book away to be able to see your face, you lifted yourself up while he stood and walked towards the window, opened it and retrieved a small letter from an owl’s beak.

“Thank you,” you said to the boy with a polite smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said before giving you a court nod and leaving, waving a polite goodbye.

“They said you can come,” Remus said as he sat down next to you again, showing you the letter. You took a deep breath and smiled. You wouldn’t have to spend the night alone. “Want me to help you pack?”

You nodded with a smile and the two of you walked to your room. Remus had been there before, back at the Halloween party, a soft smile played on his lips as he looked back at the memory.

Meanwhile, you took the small bag from the party that you had somehow managed to keep slung across your shoulder during the entire ordeal and started dumping everything onto your bed. Remus looked at you surprised since he had no idea you had also charmed your bag to keep so many things inside.

“Why would you take so many things to the party,” he asked as he pulled one of the three books inside the bag and started to inspect it.

“I was originally planning to sit in a corner and read something,” you admitted, “was not expecting a bigotry celebration.”

“I loved this, by the way,” you said as you pulled out the book of poems he’d made you and placed it on the desk carefully.

“You took it as well?”

You shrugged, “I wanted to read it, I haven’t gotten through all the pages,” you said honestly. Then you leaned down and picked out a small suitcase from under your bed.

Remus smiled as he looked at you, you had been so talkative at Slughorn’s party, perfectly entertaining both adult guests and other kids your age, he could barely imagine you sitting in a corner with a book in your hand, you clearly hadn’t been eager to attend said party in the first place.

“Do your parents celebrate an elegant New Year?” You asked as you pulled a few simpler clothes from your trunk, some jeans, a couple of jumpers, some thermal clothes and a couple of graphic tees.

“No wonder I can’t find my jumpers,” he said as he grabbed three of the jumpers you had pulled out.

“Sorry,” you said with a wince and a small shrug, they were all his. “So, elegant?”

“Not really?” he said with a shrug. “I mean Mum wears something nice, but it’s not like elegant wizard stuff either.”

“You think this would work?” You asked as you pulled out a simple blue dress. It had sleeves that would reach just past your elbows and a square neckline.

Remus nodded with a shrug, “Just wear something comfortable,” he said as he sat on the bed and helped bend some of the clothes you’d picked out.

“Oh, Rem, don’t worry about that, it’s–”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, “just focus on finding the stuff, we should hurry.”

You gave him a look but nodded, picking out some more stuff quickly and starting to bend it all. When you opened your suitcase he realised it had also been charmed, two rows of drawers pulled out and moved to the side, enough for you to place all you had picked and at least another 3 times that. Of course, you wouldn’t need that many clothes, so it didn’t matter if some parts of it stayed empty.

“You’re taking pyjamas?” he asked.

You hadn’t even thought about it, and quickly dug through your trunk to pull some shorts, fluffy socks, long sleeve shirts, and also some thick pants, in case it got too cold. You also walked towards the bathroom and got a toothbrush and a small set of toiletries. When you walked back, Remus was already placing all of your sleep clothes in one of the drawers.

“Thanks,” you said with an awkward smile and pulled a brush from the vanity.

Remus just shrugged in response, “No problem, luv.”

You heard a small tap on the window and walked towards it, a large black owl was leaning against the window seal. He carried a small square package in its claw, Narrow and long, wrapped in black fabric and with a letter tucked in the side. The owl waited for you to open, left the package with a small nod and flew away.

Remus and you exchanged looks before you picked it up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him. You pulled the green ribbon and found a small letter on top, it was more of a note than a letter, though.

We attempted to retrieve your wand, unfortunately, and as you’ll see, we were late, Bella had already broken it in two. You’ll have to get a new one. Barty mentioned that you asked for the one that belonged to the girl. We had to dig through, but we found it. Hope it serves you for whatever purpose it is that you need it.

-E

“They got it back,” you whispered as you took the box and pulled it open. Your wand, like Evan said, was there in two pieces, completely broken. You pulled out the pieces with a sigh, a sad look as you stared at them.

“You’ve had it all your life?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “I got it when I was 9 so I could study ahead.” Remus gave you an incredulous look, and you shrugged. “They wanted me to perform well in my first year. They wouldn’t let me use it all the time, but Mum taught me all the basic spells, and I pinched a book of duels from my father. I accidentally charred a tree before they realised.”

Remus scoffed with a smile on his face. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but imagining a little Vixen with a wand burning a tree down was certainly amusing. Either way, there was still another wand in the box. It was narrow and long, about as long as James’, perhaps a little longer, it was carved like Sirius’ but the insides had a tinge of blue, and seemed to shine as it caught the light. “Is that–”

“Nina’s wand,” you finished, swallowing thickly as you too looked inside the box. “They found it,” you added with a sad smile.

“What will you do with it?” he asked.

You shook your head, “I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I just knew I didn’t want it to be lost forever.”

“Do you know what type of wand it is?” he asked.

You shook your head in response, “Nina almost always kept her in her pocket, she tended to avoid the subject… I never asked her why.” That last part was a little harder to say, mostly because of the thought that came to your head after it, you’d never be able to ask why.

“Maybe we can give it back to a family member?”

“Her mum was there too,” you responded. “Perhaps Sybil would know,” you added with a shrug.

“If–” Remus hesitated, “If I were her, I’d want you to keep it.”

You gave him a look, and picked the wand up, shaking your head, “I doubt it.”

“No, I’m sure,” Remus insisted. “She pushed you out of the way of a spell, she would want you to be protected. If her wand could protect you the same way you protected her–”

“Tried,” you corrected. “I tried to protect her.”

Remus placed his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer to him, “Sometimes we do all that’s within our power and we still lose. It doesn’t make us any less worthy.”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “If I take it” –you took in a breath– “If I take it then I can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen.” Your eyes were watering again. “I’d have to face it, every time I do magic, I’ll have to–”

“Hey,” Remus said softly, as he rubbed his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, luv. Let’s leave it here for now. You can borrow my wand whenever you need magic and we’ll go to Diagon sometime on the break so you can get a wand. How does that sound?”

You blinked the tears away, quickly cleaning one that had slipped and nodded. “I’ll bring it, just in case,” you said, and gently placed the one on the drawer near the bottom. You didn’t want to see it when you looked for clothes.

Remus didn’t think it was healthy to ignore your feelings, he knew what you were doing to yourself wasn’t any better than actually processing your loss, but he had been trying to ignore his feelings for you and Sirius the last few months, and he wasn’t hypocritical enough tell you how you should process things when he himself could barely do it.

Eventually, you took a deep breath and pressed a button on the side of the suitcase. The drawers went back inside and the suitcase closed shut. You took some of the books and placed them inside the smaller bag you had taken to the party. “We’ve got books at home too,” Remus teased with a smile and you elbowed him gently.

“You said after dinner, right?” He nodded, and you turned to the clock, “We should probably go see Dumbledore then… Perhaps we can get some snacks from the kitchen on our way.”

Remus shook his head, “Mum will have dinner for us,” Remus said, "she used to be a chef, she’s always loved cooking.”

“I had no idea,” you said as you grabbed the suitcase and the bag, you left them in the common room and walked with Remus to get his own suitcase and backpack and then the two of you walked towards Dumbledore’s office.

“I see you’ve decided to go,” Dumbledore said as he saw you with the suitcase in hand.

“Remus can be very persuasive,” you replied.

He nodded and moved out of the way to let you walk towards his chimney.

Dumbledore handed over a small piece of paper to you, in neat gold, you read: Lupin’s cottage, Wales.

“Thank you,” you said as you walked over to the chimney.

“Mr. Lupin, perhaps you should go first,” Dumbledore suggested.

Remus nodded in agreement and walked inside, taking some powder from the bag and then throwing it against the floor, “Lupin’s cottage, Wales,” he said, articulating every word carefully.

“Ready?” Dumbledore asked as he offered the bag for you to take some of the green powder. You nodded and dug your hand into the bag, taking a good deal of powder and holding your fist closed tight. “Take care,” he said simply.

“Thank you, Professor,” you said as you walked inside the chimney. “Happy New Year,” you added right before taking a deep breath and saying “Lupin’s cottage, Wales.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I little bit of fluff so we can start processing all that's been going on in GC lately. I feel like it's much needed.

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therealdogsinmymind · 3 days

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Okii, I saw you had some open slots so I thought Id give it a shot!!

Jinwoo with Male!childhood friend!reader who remembers everything post-regression. Reader had pretended to be oblivious ever since and planned to take his secret (feelings) to the GRAVE.

BUT eventually it slips when reader refers to their crush as "SM" when talking on a panel at an anime convention (Reader wrote a series based on the last timeline but changed things around so it would be hard to recognise) they were invited to.

The pannel is talking about childhood crushes and reader literally describes jinwoo pre-regression powers and all then saying "oh they're just a character from an old show I watched about growing up (LIE) avsndnjdn 😅😅" (reasoning was "ahahaha its not like he'll see this right? ... right??)

The issue is that jinwoo sees a recording of the panel and realizes that reader remembers EVERYTHING and needs to confront them NOW.

Here are the issues:

Jin Woo didnt even know that Reader was an Author in the first place

Reader is in ANOTHER COUNTRY and is going to stay there for a few weeks after said convention

Reader confessed their feelings assuming the other didn't feel the same before the last battle, DIED, and then had been pretending to not remember anything for years after time reset.

Reader's cosplaying (as a cute anime girl /maid with the fluffy short skirts) at the convention and having fans SIMPING for them.

All I know that Jinwoo will not be waiting for reader to come back to Korea

This is mostly Brainrot, but I hope you like it skdnkdnd!

have a good one :)

Hello There! Thank you for your request and for the wait!! I hope you like what I've cooked up!! A standard drabble for me is 300-600 words but this ended up being a little over 1,100 lmao ^^' It's only loosely edited so I hope there's nothing tooooo terribly wrong with it!

Anyway! Without further ado!

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Be an author they said, it’ll be great, they said.

Nobody actually said this, especially since you’ve largely kept your writing a secret from your friends and family. However your whole life you’ve been determined, and consequently you were thrilled when you were invited to America to speak at a panel about your works, who wouldn’t be? You never got to do anything like this in your last life, it was absolutely mind-blowing to even consider. However you’re not sure if this is what you wanted seeing as your fans have started to ask some invasive ass questions.

“My childhood crush?” you repeat with a dry mouth, you really don’t want to talk about Jinwoo in front of a room full of people. Surely you can spin this, make up a story; you’re good at that. Hesitation fills you, you don’t want to admit that you’re gay to a room full of strangers but you can’t spin this tale that hard. “The only childhood crush I had is this character from a really obscure comic,” you say with a weak laugh, unfortunately they all prompt you to say more.

“Well.. He was actually a huge inspiration for my series,” you offer, cringing internally. Jinwoo will never see this, never ever, it’s fine. “This character, we’ll call him SM,” the audience groans at the hidden identity, “I can’t reveal all my secrets to you guys! I gotta have some mystery y’know? Anyway- he was this really weak guy, super cute right? Then he ends up getting like crazy strong. Not that he wasn’t hot when he looked like a wet cat, I have taste.” The audience chuckles knowingly, they get you, you have a similar character in your current series, he’s quite beloved. You clear your throat and continue, getting bolder despite the way your hands are sweating. “I’ve always been in love with him, that's why I wrote my story, I couldn’t get that, um, series… out of my head and I needed to create something of my own. It altered me in a way that I’ll never forget, and I’ll love SM until the day that I die.” The room goes quiet for a moment and you have to wipe your palms on the fluff of your stupid maid skirt. Why did you want to cosplay at this convention again? You look ridiculous up here, cat ears atop your head as you talk about some “fictional” boy like you’re deeply in love with him. You could’ve at least worn not a frilly skirt?

Suddenly the crowd goes wild clapping. “You’re so real!” Someone yells and everyone else cheers in agreement. Is that something the kids say? You’ll take it.

The rest of the panel is much less harrowing, lots of goofing off and then the next day you have autographs and photos right after, who knew you were so popular in America? It’s quite exciting, but you’re exhausted every night when you get back to your hotel room.

The last day at the convention you trudge back to your room, slipping your heels off and flopping face down onto your bed. Your skirt flips up and you don’t even bother to fix it, what’s the point? You’re just going to sleep like this, let the exhaustion take you. You have another two weeks of sight-seeing in America before you head home. You’re excited for it but a part of you just really misses Jinwoo, you want to call him but then he’d know you’re not in Korea.

“SM, huh?” The bed dips and a familiar voice sounds from behind you, just before hand settles on the back of your thigh. The touch barely high enough that a gloved portion of it brushes your skin above your thigh high stockings. You startle so badly you roll off the bed in the other direction.

You hit the floor hard enough that it knocks the air out of you and you have to take a second to reorient yourself before you spring up, pointing at the intruder, “Y-you! What are you doing here!?”

“I could ask you the same question. You up and vanished, I had to find out from a video posted of some panel that you’re not dead.”

“I’m fine, you could’ve texted! Besides! How they hell did you get here so fast!” Your voice is shrill as you round the bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand in front of him.

He doesn’t reply right away, just raising his eyebrow, unimpressed. “Avoiding the question?”

“What?”

“Your childhood crush-” he starts, not needing to finish. You start stuttering out excuses, it’s not what he thinks, it came to you in a dream, you were just making stuff up, the more you talk the more you dig yourself into a hole.

Jinwoo sighs and grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and sticking his face in the crook of your neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you remember everything?” His words are quiet and pained, full of mourning. Your heart throbs suddenly aware of how painful it must’ve been for him to have to start over all by himself.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t know how to tell him you’ve loved him for as long as you’ve known him, in both timelines that is. Or how to tell him you were also suffering alone. Or even how to say you think you’d die without him by your side. You shakily reach up and card your fingers through his hair, exhaling a breath you’ve been holding for a little too long.

Jinwoo makes a noise of discontent, “I don’t want an apology.” You stiffen, unsure what to do before he continues, “I want to know why you thought it was okay to let other men see you like this…” He runs a hand up your thigh, it’s a whisper of a touch. Eventually his gloved fingers sneak onto your bare skin then under a too-frilly skirt. You suck in a sharp breath. Does this mean he feels the same? When you confessed so very long ago in the other world you never got to hear an answer so suffice to say your brain is spinning as he presses a soft his to your shoulder.

“Jinwoo-” you start.

“Be it America, or anywhere else in the world… Any timeline… I will find you and I won’t let you slip through my fingers- never again.” He makes his intentions clear with a scrape of his uncannily sharp teeth across your skin. “And trust me, I still have some… frustrations- about you hiding your feelings from me for all these years.” He says, snapping your garter, making you yelp.Ah, the consequences of your actions, so you see. Well, perhaps you don’t mind too much if this is the outcome.

#jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #request

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jrow · 17 hours

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May Prompts (16)

Day 15 here.

Experiment

“It’ll be an experiment!”

He grimaces. Linda’s over-the-top cheeriness hardly breeds confidence, but she is his favourite nurse so he’ll give her a bit of leeway.

His recovery is going decently well, but his amnesia around the evening of the fall persists. It’s hardly surprising or worrying—these things take time his doctors keep saying, and it’s only been a couple days. But, his inability to remember what happened is eating away at him. He knows Sherlock isn’t sharing the full story.

He had mentioned his frustration to Linda and her eyes had lit up. She claimed to have had some success with helping patients with memory through guided visualization and said she would be happy to help John.

It’s funny that her calling it an experiment is what got John to finally agree. It reminded him of the type of argument Sherlock would make (although he would be far less peppy).

Linda lowers the lights before asking John to close his eyes and focus on his last memory from before waking up in hospital.

“I said goodbye to the staff at the nursery and Rosie and I started towards the tube.”

“Good, good. Tell me about what you remember about that moment.”

“The street was busy.”

“With who?”

“Oh loads of people. Looks like people going home from work.”

“Good, good. What’s the weather like?”

“Fine.”

“You can do better than that, John.”

A sigh. “It’s chilly, of course, but no wind. There hasn’t been a cloud in the sky all day. It’s nice…good weather. I hoped it would stay like that.”

“Why did you want it to stay like that?”

“Why wouldn’t …” A pause. “I’m nervous about rain.”

“Why, John?”

His heart starts racing. “If it rains, or god forbid snows, it’ll take longer to get to Baker Street. I don’t want to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“Meeting Sherlock for his birthday.” He tries to push ahead in the day, tries to remember meeting Sherlock, but he can’t. He hates it.

“Stay there, John. I can see you’re getting frustrated but it’ll come. You’re doing great. Just focus on getting to the tube.”

“I need to wrap his present before I go,” he blurts out without thinking. “Oh god.” He opens his eyes. “Sherlock’s birthday gift.”

“Are you okay?” Linda asks, gently, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just …” John says before trailing off. “I just remembered something,” he adds after a pause.

Before collecting Rosie he hadn’t been sure he’d have the balls to give Sherlock the gift, but in that moment he had decided. And once John Watson was sure of something … well nothing could have stopped him.

Nothing except a fall off a roof possibly. Possibly?

But, Sherlock said they met at the flat before heading out for cake. Which means John must have brought the gift. Which means …

There’s no way Sherlock opened it before John fell because they didn’t have cake. Gifts after cake, that’s the rule. So, either Sherlock opened it sometime in the last couple days and or it’s sitting unopened in the flat.

Either way Sherlock hasn’t mentioned it. That can’t be good, right?

“Why don’t you rest,” Linda says, interrupting his thoughts, knitting her brow.

“No, no, let’s keep going!” he says, closing his eyes tight. He needs to remember!

Linda chuckles. “Not now. Sadly, I do have other patients. And you should rest. I promise rest will make it easier.”

He huffs, but doesn’t argue. He opens his eyes and Linda gives him a smile before opening the door.

The constable who’s standing guard outside the room—he’s there on Greg’s orders officially, although everyone knows Mycroft is pulling the strings—pops his head in. “How are you doing, Mr. Watson?”

“Fine.”

Linda tsks. “Better than fine, I’d say. He is starting remember a bit. Not the events before the fall, but it’ come.”

“Oh?” Says the constable, eyes darting around the room. The man is visibly surprised and wonders what Greg has been telling the Yard about his injuries.

Linda smiles wide. “Only a matter of time.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

#johnlock #WIP #may prompts 2024

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freswoe · 1 day

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i really don’t know how im feeling about the latest fhjy episode. sure, it was fun, the combat planning was great to watch and the battle map was awesome, but… story-wise? It wasn’t good. more than that, the preview for the next episode looks like it’ll mainly be just a battle episode, and that combination does Not make me feel optimistic about the ending of fhjy as a whole.

i think the thing that best sums up my confusion and disappointment with this episode is when Ally/Kristen shouts ‘For Lucy!’ and honestly… why? What about Lucy Frostblade - the kind girl whose major philosophy was that the world is cold so we have to keep each other warm, the foil to Porter’s house of conquest without mercy - suggests that she’d want the brutal murder of her friends without any attempt to talk to or redeem them? the entire season has stressed the doubt/conviction relationship - with the RGs representing wrathful conviction and the BKs representing doubt - and yet there’s zero doubt, zero room for understanding, when Fig’s first action as Wanda Chillda is to stress that she fucking hates ruben and wants to see him die. also, whatever the fuck was going on with ivy and fabian.

its just. this episode is the penultimate episode of the entire season, and if i was watching with no prior knowledge, id probably say it would be episode 13, 14 etc. a cool fight, but absolutely zero emotional resonance - just the Bad Kids going to town on yet another enemy. cool fights, cool planning, cool teamwork, but nothing really special about it.

i’ve seen some people saying not to take this so seriously, that it’s an dnd liveplay so of course the storytelling isn’t always gonna be Handcrafted To Perfection TM, but Fantasy High has a track record of some pretty amazing and thoughtful storytelling, and that’s what makes this episode kinda suck. There’s zero emotional resonance. The BKs clearly view the RGs as minibosses, annoying obstacles to defeat so they can focus on the main event, and that would be fine if that’s what the RGs were. But they’re not. We’ve learnt about them, we’ve seen how they were corrupted and groomed, we’ve seen how they really are just the Bad Kids who really went bad. They have narrative weight! They represent the mindless, wrathful conviction that the BKs are trying to stop, and for the BKs to slaughter them with that wrathful conviction (with no room for doubt or redemption at all) is… it’s not good.

don’t get me wrong, I get why (they’ve been awful to the BKs all season, cathartic last fight etc) but it still sucks narratively. like i can’t stress enough that the BKs are using the exact same tactics that they resented the RGs for to slaughter them. ruben says to fig that the BKs are killing his friends (despite their awful interparty relationships, they’re still his friends) and her response, instead of the understanding and kindness that fig (and, tbh, Emily) are known for is to cast ruben into literal fucking hell.

even oisin’s death was anticlimactic. gorgug’s kill on him was cool, but no nod to adaine? not even a mention of ‘you led my friend on and broke her heart so now i’ll break your heart?’ the broken heart thing was Right There and nothing happened. oisin died, a player was removed from the field, the battle went on. no emotional connection or resonance whatsoever.

i don’t know. from a narrative perspective, this episode was bad. all the nuance of the bad kids/rat grinders dynamic has been lost. the bad kids have become Exactly what the rat grinders said they were with apparently zero self-awareness on the matter. they shoot porter and jace and the RGs down with zingers and cool spells and don’t bother even trying to de-rage the rat grinders, and the result is an episode 19 which feels like a mid-season miniboss fight. they bring the same approach to fighting the RGs that they did to fighting the monsters in the Last Stand, which, y’know. not good.

the only way i can think that they might turn this around is if the BKs are shown to be influenced by rage/the RGs get brought back (still hating the BKs, but at least giving them the chance to try again), but I really don’t know at this point. just overall feeling very disappointed.

#obvious disclaimer that im not coming at the cast it’s their show etc #its just really disappointing because we’ve SEEN excellent narrative evolution in the show before!#hell they have a whole squad of reformed villains!#THEY EVEN REFORMED THE DEAD GODDESS OF WRATH!#and yet these kids don’t deserve a second chance because what. they were mean?#i get that they’re trying to destroy the world but it’s clear that the BKs don’t want the RGs to come back #see riz suggesting cutting off oisin’s head #i don’t know. it looks like a pretty shitty end to a season which ive been absolutely loving so far #guess we’ll have to wait for next week! oh boy.#fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #d20 fantasy high

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sunnyskiestls · 3 days

Text

Raika Hojo - Idol Story 1

(Two years after ES’ establishment. At a park near ES’ building)

Raika: Toryaa~☆

Ahem, it’s time to get tonight’s dinner, thaaank you ♪

W-What? Is that– A human…?

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry–! I made a mistake. I was clumsily trying to capture something edible, like a pigeon, a cat, or even a dog– Not a human.

So with that being said, I’ll let onee-san go. I apologize deeply for the inconvenience~♪

Hmhm, oh, my stomach feels like it’s eating itself, it’s so empty… What should I do, I used up all of my remaining energy on attempting to capture my prey…

M– Mm, my stomach is too… Empty… I can’t move… Gh.

Hhm…? Eh… Candies? And you’re giving them to me?

Raika: I’m so very grateful! Wasshoi, wasshoi![1] Onee-san is truly a goddess~♪

Lick, lick ♪ Rooolling my tongue around it ♪ Eheee, it’s so sweeeet… ♪

But, what should I do? I have nothing to offer you to express my gratitude.

I was taught at the “facility”[2] to always return the kindness shown to me by others.

Nnh. For now, may I ask to know your name? I’ll remember it for later, to make it easier to repay the favor.

Uhum, Anzu? Anzu-oneesan, is that right? Okay, got it!

But I’m such a bird-brained type of person that I’d forget it after walking only three steps, so I’ll need to make a memo of it somewh–

H-hmhm?

Eh? Ahh, I should have told you my name first, shouldn’t I? Please excuse my flagrant disrespect! ♪

I am Raika Hojo, and I’m nothing more than filthy and stingy.

Ehhh, it sounds like “a dirty thief”? And that’s– That’s suspicious, is it…?

About that… That’s strange, here I thought I could disguise myself quite well.

Eh? My wording is a little strange, you say? Is that so? Really, really~?

Nn? You say, that aside, if I’m hungry, you’ll buy me a treat from the convenience store… Huh?

Eh, eh?! I’m wary when people are overly kind to me, as it’s strange, so…?

C- Certainly you don’t intend to capture and sell me off…?

Raika: I heard from Grandpa Sakuma once that, a long time ago, there was a place where people like me were captured and shown off…?

That’s not the case? You say you’ve heard about me through ES’ information?

Hahaaa~ And because Anzu-oneesan is a producer— She wants to be kind to me, as I’m an idol?

So that’s the case. Good, good… Well then, I shall take your word for it, ehehe~ And it’ll be a nice treat! ♪

Raika: Onee-san, onee-san, those steamed meat buns are really piquing my interest.

Look, they’re so warm, so soft, sooo fluffy… ♪

Ah but, I’m also interested in this pizza bun here. Is it pizza, or is it a bun? The mystery only deepens.

“If you’re interested in both, you can buy both”?

Thank you so very kindly, thank you! ♪

Uuuu… I feel like bursting into tears. This is the first time anyone has ever treated me with such kindness–

Nn?

What’s wrong, Anzu-oneesan? Your face seems devoid of color now…?

Ehhh? You’ve lost your wallet? “I can’t buy meat buns without money”, really…?

Ah! Is it possible, your wallet— Is it this one?

Raika: Ehehe. Good, so it was Anzu-oneesan’s wallet after all then, that’s a relief.

Now, you have the means to buy those meat buns! Those meat buns that I’ve been longing to enjoy for myself… (Drooling)

…? Eh, you want to know where I found this wallet?

“Did you pick it up somewhere?” I stole it from Anzu-oneesan’s pocket earlier, when we bumped into one another!

…? …? Eh, what? What’s with that look on your face? Are you angry?

Well, come to think of it, I was taught at the “facility” that it was a crime to steal others’ belongings, so…?

I- I’m so terribly sorry for this disrespect! I’ve returned your kindness with such a cruel gesture! A- Are you angry with me, Anzu-oneesan…?

Could it be that you’re no longer in the mood to be kind to someone like me…?

Eh? You say your wallet feels strangely swollen now?

Raika: Ahh, well I know that stealing is wrong. I thought I could cancel out the “bad thing” I did by doing a “good thing” that would outweigh it!

I decided to increase the contents of your wallet! ♪

So then, will this truly cancel out my stealing? Onee-san, you don’t hate me, do you…?

Ehehe. So then, as long as I promise that I won’t steal again, Anzu-oneesan will buy me the steamed meat buns that I want, as promised— Really?

Wowww ♪ I’m so happy, onee-san has such a strong sense of duty, doesn’t she?

Gh– hyaaaaaaaaaaaa?!

Kyuu… Please, don’t shout so suddenly! It’s startling…!

Eh? Centipedes, pill bugs, and bee larvae are spilling out of your wallet…?

Yes! That’s what I said, I increased the contents of your wallet!

I didn’t say that I made you more money, right?

Raika: Eh? No good? S- Seems like it’s rather easy to anger Anzu-oneesan…?

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

> [1] Wasshoi is similar to most English phrases of joyous exclamation, but none of them felt quite right to me. Feel free to interpret as anything from "woo-hoo" to "yippee"

> [2] "Facility" in this case is really only part of a word. The kanji used often refers to care homes for the elderly and similar such things, and can also be used in some spellings of orphanage. Raika is suggested to be adoptively related to the Sakuma family in this story, through context clues.

Thank you for reading!

#📚 Stories #raika hojo #enstars translations #ensemble stars translations #my translations #ensemble stars #enstars #hojo raika

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avengerscompound · 1 day

Text

The Interview - Chapter 23

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: nothing

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1857

Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 23

The plane touched down in Eugene just after midnight. It was too late to rent a car, so Melody’s brother came to pick them up. Because they were landing at a private hangar, he could drive onto the tarmac to meet them. It was funny to come down from a private jet to be met by an early 2000s Dodge pickup.

Melody and Steve approached her brother as the crew loaded the bags into the pickup. She worried things might be weird between them. The fight had never been with her brother, but they hadn’t spoken much outside of Facebook and Instagram since she’d moved out. She’d always worried that he’d taken their side in all of this.

Instead, he came straight to her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my god, it's so good to see you!”

She hugged him back, relaxing into his embrace. “You too. I missed you. Thank you for coming to get us.”

“Of course, I wouldn't leave you stranded,” he said.

You pulled away and gestured to Steve. “River, this is Steve. Steve, River.”

Steve stepped forward and offered River his hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said.

River was tall enough to look Steve in the eye but he was lankier and more wirey than her boyfriend. He was wearing his hair in twists and had a goatee. He also had some new ink that Melody had never seen before. She wondered how her parents had reacted to that. He took Steve’s hand and shook it. “It’s all mine, Cap,” he said.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Steve is fine.”

“Come on you two,” Melody said. “I don’t want to freeze my ass off on the tarmac.”

For Steve’s sake, Melody climbed into the back seat and he got into the front passenger beside River. She stretched out in the back seat and rested her head against the window, wishing there was a pillow she could use. It had been such a long day and she just wanted to pass out. She closed her eyes anyway, listening to the engine and Steve and River’s conversation in the front as she rested in the back.

“How far are we going?” Steve asked.

“It’ll be just under an hour. We’re a bit out. Not too bad though,” River replied. “Mom and Dad will be asleep when we get in. So you won’t get to meet them until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Meeting your girlfriend’s parents is hard enough without having to do it in the middle of the night.”

“That’s true,” he said. “But they’re excited to meet you. And to see Mel. It’s been a while.”

“Melody and River are very unique names,” Steve said.

River laughed. “They’re not too bad, thankfully. But yeah - I think Mom and Dad enjoyed the 60s quite a lot.”

“There was a huge free love movement in the 60s,” Melody piped up from the back. “Lots of people fighting authority and authoritarian rule. One of the side effects was people giving their kids names that felt like they were connected to the Earth mother.”

Steve chuckled. “Right. I guess that makes sense. Though it seems extra confusing with the whole…”

He trailed off. Melody knew how that sentence ended. With the whole incident where they wouldn’t allow their trans niece to move in with them after her parents rejected them.

“Yeah,” River said, his voice dropping a half-octave. “No one can quite work that one out.”

There was a heavy pause in the air and after a little while it seemed to get a little uncomfortable for Steve. “So what do you do, River?” he asked.

Melody dozed as she listened to their small talk in the front. River’s new internship at the Portland Art Museum. What it was like to wake up in the twentieth century. At one point River just spoke about how overrated Voodoo Donuts was for ten minutes and then ended with saying he’d drive out there and get some so that Steve could see for himself.

She sat up when the tires began to crunch on gravel. She blinked and stretched. The porch light was on but otherwise, the whole place was dark. The shape of the peaked roofs was just visible in the gloom. Looking at it in the dark made her stomach twist into knots. This week had been so terrible with work and his fans and now she was back at her childhood home. A place she hadn’t returned to in almost a decade after a fight that had left her homeless for over a month.

“You’re really far out, huh?” Steve said as River pulled into the garage.

“Oh, yeah,” River said. “Dad had this dream to build a house in the country. This is it.”

“There’s animals,” Melody said. “I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

They grabbed their bags and went inside. A light was on in the hall, but otherwise, the house was completely dark. Two white German Shepherds greeted them, Melody had only seen them in pictures and she crouched down and held her hands out to try and introduce herself to the dogs. When River patted and told them they were good dogs, they relaxed and came to investigate Melody and Steve. “I’m gonna head to bed,” River whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning. Nice to meet you again, Steve.”

“You too. Sleep well,” Steve replied.

“Night, Riv,” Melody whispered.

When Melody eventually pulled herself away from the dogs, she led him down the hall to her old childhood room. It was just as she’d left it. Her bookshelf was filled with so many books they were two deep in places, and a collection of stuffed animals sat on top. Her desk had a stack of papers on it and several novelty pens in a mug with a carebear on it. Her old desktop computer and printer were still there too. She’d taken her comforters with her when she’d moved out, so the bed had been made up with some new bedding she didn’t recognize. She was grateful that she’d upgraded to a full bed when she was in high school because even a full was going to be a squeeze with Steve. If she’d had a twin bed, someone would be sleeping on the floor.

Steve was completely fascinated by her room. He walked around it slowly, picking things up and turning them over. “I can’t believe I’m in your childhood room.

“Different from yours I bet,” she said.

He nodded. “Very. I did have a lot of books too. But I used to stick my art to the walls.”

“Well, next best thing,” she said and pulled open the top drawer on her desk. Inside were stacks and stacks of notebooks, all filled with her writing. Poems. Short stories. Novels both finished and unfinished. Screenplays. Fanfiction. Thousands of words of erotica, written before she had a real understanding of sex, and full of misguided tropes and physical impossibilities.

Steve pulled the one at the top out and flicked through the pages. “This is all your writing?” he asked.

“It sure is,” she said as she started to get undressed.

“Can I read some of it?”

She scrunched her nose. “It was all written before I left the house, which was a few months before I went to college. So it’s pretty cringey. And also probably very bad.”

He shrugged. “I know, but I’d still like to. Not all of it. But I’d just like to see.”

“Okay,” she said. But not now. Let me find some that aren’t terribly embarrassing.”

He chuckled and came over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her in. “How are you doing?”

She shrugged a little. “I feel a little sick if I’m honest,” she said. “Like my stomach is eating itself. I’m so worried about tomorrow. I don’t know if I should try and just pretend nothing happened so we can get through Thanksgiving and you’ll have met them and I’ll go back to New York and nothing will have changed, only we’ll tentatively be back in each other’s lives in some superficial way. Or if I should confront them and try and get past this because they really hurt me and if they still feel like what they did was the right thing, I don’t want them in my life.”

He wrapped his arms around her so that one hand was pressed to her cheek and the other was on her hip, and he pulled her in tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you. I hope you know that. If you want to start the day with a big cathartic confrontation and it doesn’t go the way you’ve planned, we can fly back to New York and have Thanksgiving with our friends. If you just want to play nice and get through it without any arguments, I’ll smile and make small talk and you can vent to me anytime we’re alone and I’ll nod along and sympathize. I’m here for you, Mel.”

He pulled back and looked down at her. “And I get it all. I grew up in a home of abuse. I behaved just to get along sometimes. And I made waves when I thought that was needed too. I know how tricky family can be to navigate.”

She got up onto her tiptoes and pecked Steve’s lips. “I love you so much, Steve Rogers.”

“I love you too, Melody Danes,” he said.

He snuggled into his chest again, just listening to his heartbeat and letting it soothe her. He held her not rushing her along, not trying to make it anything. He just held her and he didn’t let her go until she was pulled back from him. “We should really get ready for bed. It has to be creeping towards two.”

“Good idea. Where’s the bathroom?” he asked.

She pointed him across the hall and while he washed up, she changed into her pajamas and put her hair into a bonnet. When Steve came out they traded places, and by the time she crawled into bed, she felt a little less nauseated but exhausted down to her bones.

“You’re probably going to wake up before I do,” she said, as she maneuvered herself so that she was tucked in close to Steve, with her head in the crook of his arm.

“I know,” he said. “I usually am.”

“You can wake me up if you need to. You shouldn’t have to meet my parents by yourself.”

He hummed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll see how I go tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Just get some sleep.”

She leaned up and pecked his lips. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since you agreed to go out with me,” he replied. “Night, Mel.”

“Night, Steve,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, and despite how much stress she was still holding on to, or maybe because of it, she was asleep almost immediately.

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x ofc #ofc #original character fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #the interview #avengerscompound

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mixelation · 2 days

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heya, so i've read your fic "it's about magic eyeball biology" right when it came out on AO3 but i just saw it's not online anymore. is there a way you'd be willing to send me the file? I REALLY like it and I was reading it basically every day for a few days because it made me laugh

i pulled it because i was getting comments about it on other fics and that was super annoying. but i guess i don't have a problem reposting it to tumblr. some notes:

this is an AU based on a bunch of jokes in this tag (chronological order)

someone asked about how weird it would be to be an SI and find out about the eyeball symbionts, so i wrote about tori finding out. this fic is a joke. it is not "canon." no one in plasticity, mutagenicity, or any other fic of mine has eyeball symbionts. i do not find it interesting, amusing, or fun to explore this concept in other fics. i do not want comments or questions about it. please respect this

the word i chose to use is "symbiont," which in my experience is the more common term used by people who study symbiosis. "symbiote" is from marvel.

Tori was successful in not vomiting the first time she watched an autopsy. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, but she ignored it, watching Keizo’s hands and pointedly not looking at the face of their latest victim. If she just focused on the steady removal of organs from the abdomen and not the face, she could pretend they weren’t from a person.

Then Keizo moved on to the head, and she had to look. He pried open the eyelids, and her stomach rolled.

“The eyes aren’t so bad,” Keizo narrated, voice gruff and bored. He held the lids open with one hand while he cut away with the other. “I like to use curved scissors to-- pay attention-- cut through the fascial sheath, and then you can cut away the orbital muscles and it’ll pop right out. Orochimaru-sama isn’t going to let you touch anyone with a doujutsu, so don’t worry about damaging the…”

Tori frowned, barely listening to Keizo, as the victim’s eye did pop right out. It was smooth, almost a perfect sphere, with the dark brown iris raised ever so slightly. Pink viscera clung to it in Keizo’s hand.

“Hold on,” Tori interrupted, twisting her neck to try and look at the back of the eyeball. “Where’s the… you know, the optic nerve?”

She was pretty sure the optic nerve was, like, huge. It was a bundle of over a million nerve fibers or something insane like that, if she remembered the human anatomy unit correctly. Her teacher had called it a “bridge cable.”

Then again, that unit was from an advanced high school class, and Keizo was looking at her like she was particularly stupid. Even if he was mean, violent, and uncooperative, he definitely knew more about cutting out eyeballs than Tori.

“Is it smaller than it looks in cartoons?” she tried.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Keizo sneered. “Here, you do the second eye.”

That was the good thing about eyes, Tori supposed. You got two for the price of one.

He passed her the curved scissors, which were slick with whatever goo lined an eye socket, and Tori hesitantly put down the notebook she’d been writing in. Feeling very light-headed, she copied Keizo’s movements, gently separating the victim’s eyelids and praying something would happen to intervene in what she was about to do. A fire alarm going off, or a earthquake, or fuck-- she’d take the hideout being actively attacked over this.

No act of god stopped her. Her hands were shaking so hard that she accidentally punctured the sclera and transparent, goopy vitreous started leaking out.

The eye did pop right out, though. There was no nerve at the back, and no evidence of one in the back of the pink socket.

Looking into the face of dead, eyeless person, she could either feel the horror at what she’d done seeping into her very bones, or she could wonder: What the fuck?

xXx

She asked for an anatomy book.

“I don’t see what the point is,” Kabuto told her. “You’re getting hands-on experience.”

“I want to know how things work when they’re still alive,” Tori replied.

“Well…” Kabuto rolled his chair back from his desk towards a narrow bookstand of books and scrolls he kept in his clinic. “I suppose Orochimaru would approve. Here, you can look through this while we wait for that drug to kick in.”

He handed her what was clearly a picture book meant for children, a deeply condescending smile on his face. Tori pressed her lips together to prevent herself from saying something disrespectful, then forced her face into a polite smile.

There was a chapter on different senses, and she slowly flipped through the chapter on chakra networks in mild interest, before she found the two-page spread covering sight.

Mother of Christ, Tori thought.

She hadn’t found an optic nerve because there wasn’t one.

xXx

Part of Tori’s argument for why she shouldn’t be dissected like a frog was that there was no reason to think there was much special about her biologically, including her own anatomy. She thought it would be safer to simply not say anything.

But now she knew. She knew every person in this world was a walking sin against logic, and that knowledge, sitting in the Oto clinic with Kabuto, was a horrible, heavy burden that made it hard to breathe.

The picture book Kabuto had loaned her had explained vision to her the way Tori thought an alien who’d never even seen a human and also who didn’t have sight themselves might explain it: special cells at the back of the eye reacted to light, and then that information was transferred directly into the brain via a complex network of chakra, and this was not even the worst part.

The worst part was that eyeballs were an entirely separate organism. A mutualistic creature that colonized newborn baby eye sockets and then metamorphosed into basically a giant eyeball that fed visual information into the brain in exchange for protection and nutrients.

“During pregnancy,” the book had explained in a little Did you know? box, “a mommy’s body makes special hormones, which tell the visual symbiont to make babies too! The babies are called larvae, which have lots of little tentacles to help them move around. They like to stay with mommy, though, and so they find the baby when she holds it. Sometimes, when there’s a problem with mommy and she can’t donate larvae to her baby, a doctor can help daddy’s eyes make babies, or sometimes another mommy will donate!”

Tori was going insane. She was going to hyperventilate. What the FUCK!

“This is the worst thing I ever read,” she muttered to herself, eyes stuck on the book. Whatever drug Kabuto had given her was making her dizzy, but she felt like her vision was laser-focused and perfectly taking in the bright cartoon of two eyeball symbiont creatures. “Is this a joke? This has to be a joke.”

She was vaguely aware of Kabuto frowning at her. “A joke?”

“Visual symbionts?” Tori squeaked out, sounding and feeling hysterical.

“Yes…?” Kabuto repeated.

“No,” Tori argued. “No way.”

Bemused, Kabuto dug out more textbooks, these ones meant for actual medical professionals. He flipped through passages on syndromes related to host-symbiont genetic incompatibilities, being colonized by more than one symbiont, symbiont maldevelopment and absenteeism, chakra incompatibilities, if the symbiont spontaneously regrew its tentacles and left your head in order to start its sexual reproductive cycle.

“Is this…” Tori felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt more apt to vomit than she did when she’d fucked up trying to cut out someone’s eye. “Is this a genjutsu…?”

“Did you really not know about them?” Kabuto asked. “I thought you had biological training.”

Tori had to work very hard not to break down into hysterics.

xXx

The good news was that “I have a special nerve that connects my eyeball to my brain and lets me see” sounded exactly as insane to both Kabuto and Orochimaru as “eyeball symbiont creature” did to Tori.

Well, no, that wasn’t really good news. But she felt vindicated at both their absolutely baffled looks.

She had to explain it three times– dropping words like “optic chiasma” and “retinal blind spot” before Kabuto believed her enough to press his fingers to her temple and send chakra into her eyes.

“There is something there,” he said, sounding deeply perplexed, and Orochimaru perked up like a child receiving a Christmas gift. “I think-- yes, it’s a nerve.”

“I think you should be able to see it,” Tori said, “if you shine a light into the pupil.”

They did. Tori did indeed have a white spot at the back of her eye, right where her optic nerve entered her eye.

“You’re like a cephalopod,” Orochimaru informed her, sounding like a dog owner telling their pet they were a very good girl. “This is how their eyes are arranged, an absolutely beautiful evolution. Oh, but the approach of the nerve is different. How fascinating.”

The examination ended with Orochimaru gleefully jabbing a needle into both Tori’s eyes. This was uncomfortable and painful, and he talked about how the presence of an optic nerve might be part of her future vision.

At least this backs up my story, Tori thought as Orochimaru’s cool hand held her face down.

xXx

Orochimaru strolled into lab the next day and pulled Tori aside to go over the results of her test with her. He took her down the hall to an office, which was surprisingly homey, all things considered. Orochimaru’s office was lined with bookshelves, and had a nice wood desk and a comfortable looking chair behind it. There was an ornamental lamp, which along with the desk chair, were the closest to “creature comforts” that Tori had seen in Oto so far.

She sat opposite to Orochimaru, in a much less comfortable chair. He spread a scroll out on the desk in front of her.

“Do you know how to read the results of a DNA test?” he asked.

“Uh,” Tori answered. “Not like whatever you’re about to show me.”

He hummed back at her, not at all bothered. “Ah, your otherworldly science. You should tell me about that later. For now…”

He explained how he’d compared the DNA extracted from her eye to DNA extracted from the hair he’d ripped off of her previously. They had matched exactly. He’d also ran her eye DNA against several visual symbionts they had on file, across many vertebrate taxa, and found no match at all.

“Your eyes are one-hundred percent Tori,” he said. “It’s amazing.”

“...thanks?” Tori tried. As a joke she added, “I grew them myself.”

“Hmm,” he answered. “I wish I had more of you, and more of other animals from your world. I’d like to study how they evolved.”

“I don’t understand how they didn’t evolve here,” Tori told him honestly. They had a special socket and everything! “I think… do other animals have eyes here? I’m pretty sure eyes evolved more than once. In my world, I mean.”

Orochimaru leaned back in his seat, eyeing her indulgently, a smile tugging at his lips. “The leading theory is that the symbiont started as a flesh-eating parasite that attacked proto-eyes in vertebrates, and then evolved with us until it simply replaced our eyes. Most babies are born with soft tissue in their sockets, to feed potential symbionts, and some think that growth is left over from millions of years ago when our ancestors had their own eyes.”

“Oh,” Tori said, unsure how to respond to that. She’d been taught parasitism and mutualism were opposite sides of the same symbiotic spectrum, so moving from one end to the other made sense. “Well, that happens sometimes.”

Orochimaru laughed.

They chatted. Orochimaru was good at answering questions thoroughly and without making Tori feel like she was stupid the way other Oto residents did, and he nodded along to her talking about whatever eyeball-related thing that came to her mind. Red-green colorblindness being a sex-linked trait, for example, was an extremely interesting topic for Orochimaru.

“So do you not have the genes for photoreceptors at all?” Tori asked curiously.

Instead of answering her immediately, Orochimaru had started writing down notes to himself. With the exception of occasionally labeling a tube or sample, Tori had never actually seen him write anything down before, and he scribbled with a sort of fervent focus.

“I’ve never looked,” he said eventually. “There’s evidence for photosensitivity in those without symbionts, but… It would be interesting to use your genome to search for any analogous loci…”

Because the conversation flowed easily, Tori eventually felt bold enough to ask:

“So is this why you can just pass sharingan around like hot potatoes?”

Orochimaru paused in the middle of writing, blinking at her.

“Hot potatoes?”

Tori blushed, and then backpedaled. “I know you… uh, Sasuke is going to get into a fight with Danzo at some point.”

She gestured at her forearm, and Orochimaru let a loud, rasping laugh.

“I don’t think Danzo can see particularly well with those,” he said, eyes mirthful. “But I suppose eye transplants would be quite difficult with a nerve to connect, wouldn’t they?”

Tori nodded. She was pretty sure they weren’t even possible. There were… a lot of problems, there. But if the eyeball was supposed to be an external creature, it had to be easier to pass them around.

“They have quite a high success rate here,” he answered, tone flippant as he played with the pen in his hand. “Unfortunately, an eye transplanted into a non-related host can rarely be coaxed into reproducing.”

“Huh,” Tori answered. “Why?”

Orochimaru’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Perhaps that can be your next project.”

xXx

It didn’t get to be Tori’s next project, because Oto ended up going up in flames.

She didn’t even have time or energy to think about how everyone in this world was running around with symbiont eyeballs instead of regular eyes until months later, sitting in Sasori’s workshop and carefully stirring some foul-smelling concoction while he excavated someone’s insides so he could hide weapons inside or something.

“You know, you guys should really invent magnetic stir-bars,” Tori said, eyeing the beaker of slowly bubbling sludge and wondering if the fumes could hurt her.

Apparently Sasori was in a bad mood today, because he put the horrifying… scooping tool… down and turned to her fully.

Like carving a pumpkin, Tori thought against her will, eyes fixated on the… organ scooper?

“What stupid thing are you rambling about now?” Sasori asked her, voice harsh. “You’re distracting me. If you make a single mistake with that poison--”

Tori was trying very hard to pay attention to Sasori’s threats and not think about all the horrible squelching noises of the organs she’d removed herself. It was better to listen to Sasori, really. Probably increased her chance of survival, even.

There was movement behind Sasori. Tori squeaked in surprise. Sasori clicked his tongue in annoyance, picked up the organ scooper, and then used it to catch something right out of the air with the ease of a professional lacrosse player.

“Oh, disgusting,” he said, staring down at it in evident annoyance.

Something else plopped to the floor with an audible, vaguely wet thud. It rolled across the concrete floor, and Sasori trapped it against the floor with a firm sandal. Tori leaned over the bench to see what was going on, and saw the transparent ooze of viscera across the cement and gray tentacles trashing against the floor and the sides of Sasori’s sandals.

“Is that an eyeball symbiont?” Tori asked, suddenly excited. She leapt to her feet and came to stand beside him, peering into the shell of the organ scooper.

Sure enough, an eyeball with a halo of tentacles was rolling back and forth, desperately trying to escape.

Holy shit, Tori thought. That was… that was amazing, actually.

“It’s sort of cute,” she said.

Sasori looked at her like she was insane. This was, apparently, such a bizarre statement that he didn’t immediately react to the eyeball finally lurching itself forward and out of the scoop. Tori caught it easily in one hand as it fell.

“Don’t touch it,” Sasori hissed, grabbing her wrist. “Are you insane? It’ll induce your eyes too.”

“...what?” Tori asked, blinking back at him. “Oh, because the tentacles mean it’s trying to have sex?”

She stared down at the thing in her hand. The tentacles wriggled between her fingers. Kinky little bastards, weren’t they?

Sasori was looking at her with… awe wasn’t really the word. More like: What the fuck, I have never seen someone this carelessly insane before, and I am horrified that humanity could reach these depth.

Which was kind of rude, actually, because they lived with Hidan.

“What do you mean by ‘induce’?” Toi asked.

“Do you not know how eyeballs work?” Sasori asked, sounding just shy of hysterical.

Apparently, handling an eyeball symbiont in its sexual reproduction mode could induce a symbiont in a host to also leave the head and revert to its sexual cycle, so they could both run off and hopefully have an eyeball orgy with as many symbionts as possible. Tori guessed that made sense. The symbiont reproduced mainly asexually, but most things did occasionally run off to have sex. That was just life.

Sasori was absolutely disgusted by the entire process. His symbionts were the only living part of him, and he was personally horrified by the idea of them crawling out of his head to make babies.

He also seemed to be viscerally repulsed by the threat of a loose symbiont in someone’s living quarters, not because it might affect his housemates, but because he didn’t like the idea of more tentacled symbionts flopping around.

“Is this like… an ongoing societal problem?” Tori wondered. Did people kill them on sight, or was this considered a beautiful miracle of life?

She didn’t get to find out, because her question triggered a rant from Sasori about how much he hated them, and that they should just stay in people’s heads and look pretty like they were meant to.

“Is it common to leave a dead host like this?” Tori asked when he calmed down. They couldn’t really move on their own unless they went into sex mode, after all…

“Why are you still holding it?” Sasori demanded. His own disgust was the only thing keeping him from prying it out of her hand himself.

“Oh, I don’t have a visual symbiont,” Tori said, blinking at Sasori. “I just grew my own eyes. Uh. Like an octopus.”

Sasori very slowly let go of her wrist. He stared at her, perplexed.

The symbiont in her hand wriggled some more. Her own eyeballs stayed firmly in place.

“...pick up the one on the floor,” Sasori said eventually.

He wanted to keep them. He liked saving his puppet’s original eyes. Usually, when they left the host, he had to kill them and then isolate them for a week to be sure the hormones that could induce his own symbionts dissipated. That meant, once he was able to safely handle them, they were not in pristine condition. This, perhaps, contributed to why he hated them so much. They were frustrating art material.

Tori thought, based on what she’d read about things doctors did, he was being a bit paranoid, the way some people didn’t like touching raw meat.

“You’ll have to kill them and preserve them for me,” Sasori said, having fully accepted that Tori was a weird freak faster than she would have anticipated.

Tori felt bad when she killed them, slipping a scalpel into their backs where Sasori indicated.

“You’ll see more live ones,” Sasori sniffed when she complained. “This happens with about a quarter of my bodies.”

Fascinating, Tori thought. She’d never had one of her failed surgery… patients… do this. Maybe what they did in Oto also killed the symbiont?

“And you don’t use all those bodies for full puppets, right?” Tori asked. “You won’t need every symbiont.”

“You can’t keep it as a pet,” Sasori sneered.

Obviously she didn’t want a pet. She wanted to run some experiments. This was really interesting, after all!

Instead of earnestly explaining this to Sasori, who seemed a bit on edge and likely to yell at her, she went for jokes at other people’s expense. He loved those.

“I want to see if Jashin protects Hidan from them,” Tori told him, and he snorted. “Or see if we can get one to colonize Deidara’s mouth-hand.”

“He will kill you,” Sasori said, not without a hint of bemusement. “You’ll cut off all their tentacles next. I like to use curved scissors…”

#it's about magic eyeball biology #my writing #toriverse

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ratinayellowbandana · 3 days

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lavender thread // a curated imodna playlist

I started curating this playlist over two years ago, and it’s still one of my favorite creations because I put arguably way too much thought into it. I soft-launched this a couple weeks ago, and I was genuinely surprised by how many people checked it out.

It’s in rough chronological order from pre-relationship to post-campaign. Every song goes through a fairly thorough vetting process for thematic appropriateness, accuracy, tone, and genre. For example, if there are too many references to modern technology, days of the week, months, real places, religion, etc., it will likely be cut to build the "world of the story." Imodna playlist, but make it hyperspecific. Like, corpse falling in love with an embalmer specific. (you can find the "rejects" here)

Right now, the playlist is broken into two acts, with a prologue, an epilogue, and a couple of sub-sections sprinkled in. I personally recommend not shuffling, at least on a first listen, so you get to experience the full journey. But hey, I can’t stop you.

This playlist is a constant work in progress. I’ll add new songs I find that feel fitting, and sometimes they live at the bottom of the playlist for a while before I get around to slotting them in. “Dance in the Graveyards” will always be the end of the structured playlist. Rarely, I’ll remove or shuffle a song if I think it doesn’t fit the vibe, the lyrics aren’t specific enough, or it’s just not working.

I’m making this post to share my playlist with anyone else who might want it and to write down my reasoning for every song so I don’t forget it. It’ll be updated as new songs get added. Enjoy!

I laid out my reasoning for each song mostly for my own benefit. You'll see the "section," song title, artist, a little blurb from me, and one/two of my favorite or the most relevant sections of the song. Sometimes, I just had to pick something because the whole song was perfect.

Prologue:

“Stories” - Lilli Furfaro

It’s a beautiful framing device. It’s the premise of the game, the world, the show, and the characters. Fun fact: I found this song two full years before I learned she made a whole Vox Machina album lol.

“We are stories / Bеginnings, middles, ends / Our power lies in living lives that touch a life or two [...] / In this world we’ve built on games of chance / And hours of introspection”

ACT 1

Laudna, Before:

A general note: I looked for songs that were just slightly off-putting with darker over and undertones to match Laudna’s energy.

“Old Churchyard” - The Wailin’ Jennys

Welcome to the world. Foreshadowing and a set-up for the downfall of Whitestone. Speaks to the exhaustion. I imagine a tiny Laudna being ever so hopeful that it might get better but embracing the eeriness of a graveyard in the meantime.

“I rest in the hope that one bright day / Sunshine will burst through these prisons of clay / And the trumpets will sound on the hills near and far / Will wake up the dead in the old churchyard”

“Funeral Bell” - PHILDEL

The aftermath of the banquet. The fear, sadness, and resignation. The sense of relief.

“Oh mother, I’m scared to die. / Where, where do my good deeds lie? / Oh father, I’m scared to live, / Takes more than I’ve got to give.”

“Apple Tree” - Marika Hackman

Hanging from the tree. A crowd gathering. Wanting to be remembered. Enough said.

“Here I hang for the sated crowd / To look upon my eyes, look upon my mouth / And say, ‘We were there that day / I saw a face, heard a sound’”

“Special Death” - Mirah

Asking, “Why me?” A sense of confusion and loss along with the saving of Whitestone. Concludes with the beginnings of the la-la-las.

“But it's a special death you saved / For me, the brown-eyed daughter”

“Ain’t No Grave (Sparse)” - Crooked Sill, Aoife O’Donovan

It’s a little on the nose, yes, but I chose this version specifically for the sense of emptiness it evokes. There’s an implied skepticism of seeing people you think you’re able to trust, specifically “gods’ people” (as I’m choosing to interpret it), and thinking of the clerics who saw a monster. The dismay of being resurrected into a world that hates you. We’ll see if this one sticks; it’s a little heavy on references to Christianity.

“Ain't no grave gonna hold my body down / When I hear that trumpet sound / I'm gonna get up out of the ground”

“Don’t Know Who I Am” - Rebecca Roubion

The distinct loss of identity and a surprisingly apt description. Laudna had no name and no sense of self or what she was. She’s searching for something to identify.

“Black tears on my shirt / Black tears on my freckles / I've been stung by this hurt / I've been stung by a stinging nettle”

“Lying Beast” - Run River North

Running. Running far and fast, leaving home behind. Seeing herself as a beast and being terrified of it. So alone.

“And so I flew away with myself / I was the beast all alone in my hell!”

“Drinking Song” - House Phone

What could she have become if she hadn’t been murdered so soon? We see her begin to play and fantasize and dream and grow.

“'Cause you won't rewrite history / To commemorate the likes of me / And you would not believe me if I tried / To tell you all the things I've seen / And all the places that I've been”

“Mile Magnificent” - molly ofgeography

Starting to explore her magic and Delilah’s influence in her head. It starts to feel... good? The pent-up frustration and anger have a release.

“We bloom beneath the blessings of a goddess with no face [...] / All my better demons have gone the way they came”

“Stolen Roses” - Karen Elson

Digging into the anger, searching for a purpose. Too old and too young at the same time, forced to grow up too fast.

“There once was a time when I was a girl / That darkness hung in my sky / I was old before I learned to be young / Stone cold till I learn how to cry”

“These Bones” - Azrai (ft. Momo O’brien)

Searching for a home, a place to rest. Crossing the sea to Marquet. (The intro, as you’ll hear, foreshadows the pluckier sound of Imogen’s section.) Skeletal imagery.

“I am a long time finding home / I have only ever wandered before / It′s a savage sea we're made to roam / Every tide can turn to haunt us / But the ocean reaches past these ghosts / And I will always sail for more”

“Mountain Song” - Little Chief

A beautiful, adventurous musical introduction. Open to the possibility of new things, still weary, but there’s more here.

“I’ve been living in a hole in the mountain / Ain’t no sins in there / Oh, these memories they keep on following”

This is our transition into...

Imogen, Before:

A general note: I tried to seek out songs with more of a folky-bluegrass vibe for Imogen to match her background.

“Second Child, Restless Child” - The Oh Hellos

I imagine a very young, carefree Imogen. Well before her powers kicked in. I like to think she thought she was a bit of a troublemaker, but anything she did was so endearing and mild that it was sweet. A happy kid with big dreams until the signs of something else started to appear.

“With a spirit running wild, running free / And they saw trouble in my eyes / They were quick to recognize the devil in me”

“I’ve Endured” - Tim O’Brien

Growing up with her father in the mountains and in the fields. The nightmares begin. But this is fine, right? She can handle this.

“I've seen the lightnin' flashin', I heard the thunder roll / I've endured, I've endured / How long must one endure?”

“Wander. Wonder.” - The Arcadian Wild

The powers are coming on strong. Post-nightmares and in pain, nothing she did was good enough. She felt trapped in her own home, shackled by her mind and father, perhaps, as she tried not to let on that she was changing.

“Half awake I wander through this house / Lost in a labyrinth and left with no way out / I built this hall of mirrors all myself / Faces staring back at me look like somebody else”

“Lost in My Mind” - The Head And The Heart

Everything is So Much. Thoughts of leaving but–

“Momma once told me / ‘You're already home where you feel loved,’ / I am lost in my mind / I get lost in my mind”

“Trouble and Woe” - Ruth Moody

The voices are awful, and the world is so bleak. People are cruel. Getting worse, and hoping it will get better.

“This world is full of trouble and woe / All I see is trouble, everywhere I go”

“Little Bird” - The Weepies

People have noticed. Trips to town are much harder. The voices are louder.

“Sometimes it's hard to say even one thing true / When all eyes have turned aside, they used to talk to you / And people on the streets seem to disapprove / So you keep moving away”

“Storm Comin’” - The Wailin’ Jennys

It’s getting worse. Nightmares getting more frequent. Control is slipping. And, you might notice this song is by the same artist as Laudna’s first. I do love a bit of symbolism.

“Will you listen to that thunder roar and let your spirits soar / When that love calls, open up your door [...] / No, don’t run from the coming storm, ‘cause it can’t keep a storm from coming.”

This leads us to…

Connection

General note: a blending of both genres and styles.

“Mostly” - Vian Izak, Juniper Vale

A prelude, almost. Are you real?

“I've bought up all my dreams and sold off most my heart / I'd been lying to myself just to bury all my thoughts”

“Maybe” - The Henry Girls

The timid hope of meeting someone and realizing you feel like you’ve known them all your life. Suddenly, things might be okay.

“I feel like I should know you / I feel like we have met before [...] / And all these things that I don't really understand / Would be much simpler if you'd only hold my hand”

“Dandelion” - Heather Maloney

A moment of peace. I like to think of this as Laudna’s adoration of the natural world and its beauty. Her will to bend the laws of the world to give Imogen what she deserves. And, on a more literal level, to offer Imogen the gift of flowers because Laudna has little else to her name. This song also begins the recurring flowers-in-hair motif.

“I have nothing but these weathered hands / And I live nowhere on this wild land”

“Rain Clouds” - The Arcadian Wild

A connection over shared struggles from both sides. A mutual agreement of trust.

“I’m being frightened by the people / They look at me like I’m a scar upon their perfect skin / Perfect to only them / I’m being shadowed by my past / Reminding me of what I was and what I could become”

“Daylight” - Watchhouse

Realizing that this person might’ve saved you.

“My search was unending, and my soul was bare. And darling you came to me like a midnight flare.”

“The Devil In You” - The Haunted Windchimes

The joy of being seen. Of being known.

“I've walked a long long way it ain't new / Here I sit face to face with the devil in you / It looks a lot like someone I've spoken to / We were broken together it's true”

“Curses” - The Crane Wives

The fear that neither is good enough for the other. Basic choice? Maybe. But it’s too good to pass up.

"Every word I say is kindling / But the smoke clears when you're around / Won't you stay with me, my darling / When my walls start burning down, down, down?”

“Wildflowers” - The Wailin’ Jennys

You deserve better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give that to you. The feeling that this is too good to be true. Surely, it can’t last.

“Go away somewhere bright and new / I have seen no other / That compares with you”

“Bruised Feet” - Haunted Like Human

Laudna’s invitation to leave. Together. An escape from mistakes and the past.

“Do you want to hear the stories these bruised feet could tell / ‘Cause I’ve been chasing sunrises, throwing change in wishing wells / And I’m running to and I’m running from and oh Lord knows that I ain’t done / Running for the sake of running wild, so come with me child”

Unless...

ACT 2

On the Road

“Light in the Sky” - We Banjo 3

And they’re off on a search for knowledge and freedom.

“So if you’re lost in the night / Stuck between the demon and the knife / As it traces a line across your heart”

“Apple Pie” - Lizzie McAlpine

Transient, finding solace in one another. Home after home. How long can this last? This one has a few more references to modern things than I’d like, but I can’t pass up the vibes.

“Every house looks the same in my dreams / Every house feels like home for a couple weeks / I've been runnin' 'round trying to find a place where I can breathe...Home is wherever you are tonight.”

“Almost Home” - Keston Cobblers Club

In search of a person, a place to settle. As long as they’re together.

“The clouds will break the wind will brace these sails of stone / And I have never known a journey take this long / But I'm almost home”

“You and Me” - You+Me

They fit together.

“They say everything, it happens for a reason / You can be flawed enough but perfect for a person / Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart / Guiding your direction when you're riding through the dark”

“Witchcraft” - Vian Izak

I like to think Imogen is... realizing some things, and getting attached. (We all know she fell first.)

“It's witchcraft / And I've got no defense for it / The heat is too intense for it / What good would common sense for it do?”

“For My Emablmer” - Emily June

Laudna’s turn. Still seeing herself as a dead thing, a little confused by Imogen’s friendship but embracing it all the same.

“I hope you know I won't complain / If I decompose and you're to blame / Abandon your duties, lay down next to me / Grab my hand, feel no shame”

“Home to Me” - The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Keep coming back to each other regardless of what other people think.

“How dare you love me like you've never known fear / You've got more troubles than minutes in the year / And a voice like your father's tells you nothing good's for free / Well, that may be / But you're walking home to me”

“The Moon Song” - Brittin Lane, Mitchel Morse

Foreshadowing the importance of the moon later. For now, it’s peaceful.

“We're lying on the moon / It's a perfect afternoon / Your shadow follows me all day / Making sure that I'm okay”

“You Are My Sunshine” - Lena Hall

Contrasting the last song, when the moon becomes too much… there’s the sunshine. Specifically for Imogen constantly fighting the pull of the moon, Laudna is the sun, her spark, her light. What happens if she disappears?

“As I lay sleeping / I dreamed I held you / In my arms / When I awoke, dear / I was mistaken”

“Two” - Sleeping At Last

These two self-sacrificial, loyal, dedicated characters. Bonus points for “I will love you without any strings attached.” A double meaning for Laudna and Delilah.

“No, I don't want to talk about myself / Tell me where it hurts / I just want to build you up, build you up / Till you're good as new”

The Campaign

“Growing Up” - Run River North

Apt for both of them as they come into their own. Growing together as they explore the world, adventure with their friends, and learn to take what comes.

“I used to close my eyes / To what stirred under my bed / Now, they're open wide / To the monsters in my head / Instead of claws, they whisper lies”

“I found my way without your help / With broken family / I'll take my breaks with my sins / Do as I do, please / With my friends 'til the end / There lies my loyalty”

“Anything Can Happen” - Tors

Imogen is being pulled.

“But even when I start to dream / Every little piece of me / Gets a little close to the edge of darkness / I know I've been here before / Long as I'm not falling off / I'll be fine”

“Crawl In” - Upstate

Things are getting harder, but they’re seeking comfort in each other after nightmares and bad days alike.

“Crawl in my head tonight / Read my thoughts so I don't have to speak / It's been a long, long week but I'm tryin’ / To make do and stop fussin’ and fightin’”

“Bottom of the River” - Delta Rae

The crickets chirping continue the nightmare-ish theme of the last song. However. Shit’s getting real. Holding onto each other as they sink deeper.

“Hold my hand / Ooh it’s a long way down”

“Raise Hell” - Brandi Carlile

Can’t believe Laura Bailey beat me to this song by 2 days with her Imogen playlist. It’s the perfect mix of angsty and bluegrass-folky. Being born cursed and learning your strengths. I like to imagine this is around the first Otohan fight. May or may not stick because of the substantial references to Christianity, but I do love it for Imogen coming into her god-like power.

“It came upon a lightning strike / And eyes of bright clear blue”

“Bury Me Smiling” - The Ballroom Thieves

Laudna’s second death. Love and loss.

“I stood in silence / A mind's worth of violence / Strung me a short rope / Round my neck / A love like an old home / Breathes in these dry bones”

“Afterlife” - Haunted Like Human

Laudna on Imogen’s desperate search to get her back. Asking Imogen not to waste her time. The choice to return. I particularly love the chimes. Musical thoughts and the reflection of death.

“So darling don’t go digging up graves / When love is lost the afterlife is a choice you gotta make / So put the nails in the coffin, let them rust in place / But darling don’t go digging up graves”

“The Mountain Song (First Dance Version)” - Tophouse

The “I would do anything for you” of it all. Resurrection. Hope. Bonus points for flower-in-hair motif.

“Well the clouds rolled in / There was lightning there was thunder there was rain / As we hid beneath our shelter / All the doubts that we had felt / Came pouring in as a flood we had to face”

“Flowers in My Hair” - Wes Reeve

Yearning. A bit of good old fashioned wanting what can’t be had. I imagine this is the last of the first Whitestone visit and the orange tree is the golden glow of the sun tree. Whitestone Andy mention? Continuing flower motif.

“I had a dream of a boy who loved me and / We danced in the leaves of an orange tree [...] / Then I went my own way, and you crossed the highway / But just maybe someday we’ll be, my pretty”

“Haven” - We Banjo 3

The Rudius arc is kicking into gear. “You have the biggest spark of anyone I’ve ever seen” vibes.

“The moonlight's a path we can travel down / River runs wild with what has gone before / Cast aside for new and more and more and more and more and more and more / Let me be your haven / Let me be your light”

Moon Arc

“Wax & Wane” - Alana Henderson

Oooh tension. The drama. The moon is affecting the relationship. We’re starting to see a shift to a darker mood around the Solstice and all that’s around it. Mirrors “Moon Song” - “There’s nothing I’d keep from you.” Oh yeah?

“But we bent and we broke and I meant what I spoke / And the blame game does not produce a winner / We went as far as we could go we had to go that far to know / That we had nowhere left to aim / And no one left to blame but / The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide”

“The Moon Will Sing” - The Crane Wives

This reminds me of Laudna during the separation and immediately after, starting to question everything, seeing herself as dark. That extreme co-reliance. Clinging to each other. Is it a good thing? Laudna starting to lean back into Delilah’s burn.

“The moon will sing a song for me / I loved you like the sun / Bore the shadows that you made / With no light of my own / I shine only with the light you gave me [...] / I want to feel the fire that you kept from me”

“Always You” - South for Winter

The rush of reunion. The high-pitched start, disbelief. Then: the warmth of returning to Your Person. Being able to rely on them. A bright spot.

“Should the blood red tides run o’er / Should our nightmares all come true / Should we lose this holy war / I know there’ll still be you [...] Oh my love / The skies are growing colder / Oh, my love / I need you more than ever”

“Tether Me” - Galleaux

In addition to the obvious tether relation, they’re both feeling pulls in different directions: Imogen to the red dawn; Laudna to the darkness of her mind. Being tied to her limbs earns you more puppet symbolism.

“For a moment, I was gone / The speed of light into the red dawn / In this space, do I belong?/ It’s dark out here in my own thoughts / Pull me back out of my body / I’m tied to my limbs”

“Blood Moon” - Saint Sister

The moon sure is tempting. The pulls for both of them are getting stronger. Things are getting darker, harder, more intense.

“And so I wonder will those scattered pits / Take root behind your cracking lips / They are always doing that [...] / The hunter’s moon was bleeding red / The night you left our thorny bed / You were always, always”

“If We Were Vampires” - Baggio & Hannah Kol

The looming sense that one of them won’t come back. As the end draws near, even if the upcoming fights don’t kill one of them, Imogen will out–age Laudna.

“It's knowing that this can't go on forever / Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone / Maybe we'll get forty years together / But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone”

“Hesitate” - The Harmaleighs

They’re hiding things from each other as the tension builds.

“You keep saying you love me / You keep telling me you’re proud / But you don't know who I am / 'Cause you're not even living out loud”

“Soothsayer” - Haunted Like Human

Not gonna lie this is my favorite song on the entire playlist. It is peak Laudna-Delilah. I would quote the entire song if I could. It’s dark, thematically perfect, and haunting. It's also by the same artist as "Afterlife," Laudna's "death" song to reflect that link. I imagine this is late C3 as Laudna continues to feed Delilah. My favorite line: “The thing that you hate / Is the thing you've become.”

“There's a price to be paid / But ain't that every trade? / You're just looking for strength when you're weak / Oh you know there's a flickering darkness / And it sings out like sirens to you / Yea it's sickly sweet and elegantly violent / But these debts that you take / They will someday come due / Hungry hands reaching up / Crave for more, lust for blood”

“Hurricane” - Bandits on the Run

While still being them having to navigate their relationship in the midst of the impending end of the world, this song brings to light Imogen’s relationship with her mother, too. She meets her mother in the storm.

“They told us run for cover / Stay close to home and mother / Don’t seek out any other”

“Chasing Twisters” - Delta Rae

It’s time. Make or break.

“I was born with lighting in my heels / Sewed a spur onto my ankle / Bit a horse under the steel / And I lost hope when I was still so young [...] / I’ll take you to the grave / The only love I’ve ever known / The only soul I ever saved / And I went home”

Epilogue

At the time of writing, we’re around C3:E95, so from here on out this is even more so my reinterpretation or guesses about the future. I’m hoping to flesh out this section and the middle/end of Act 2.

“Oh Mama” - honeyhoney

Our transition song. The cacophonous high of the last song into the unbelieving stillness of the piano, the end of a battle. The world has shifted. There’s no going back.

“All covered in mud the day is done [...] / Oh mama look at my heart / I’m useless now that it’s dark / We’re praying for rain a thunder of change / And lightning to lighten my way”

“If She Ever Leaves Me” - The Highwomen

Alright, this one’s a little self-indulgent, even more so than the others. But don’t we deserve a little wholesome “we made it” energy?

“I’ve loved her in secret / I’ve loved her out loud / The sky hasn’t always been blue [...] / She loves wild horses and tumbling dice”

“The Time for Flowers” - Emily Scott Robinson

The bookend and parallel to “Dandelion” from much, much earlier. This time, from Imogen’s perspective. Conclusion and continuation of flowers motif. “The skies are clear now. The moon is new.”

“I came upon a woman in a field on her knees / Singing ancient songs and sowing wildflower seeds / Tell me what the point in planting pretty things / In these days of darkness and disease [...] I have witnessed funerals and wars / Worried mothers, empty shelves, and empty stores / The storms will rage and the winds will blow / You are gonna find out that you're stronger than you know”

“Dance in the Graveyards” - Delta Rae

I always knew I was going to end the playlist with this song. It perfectly mirrors “Old Churchyard,” the first of Laudna’s songs. It's also by the same artist as the "climax" of the playlist. The drums give me Laudna, while the folksy sound gives me Imogen. Finding joy in death, in life, in love. Life will go on, new friends and old will come and go. And that’s alright. She’s happy. They’re happy.

“When I die, I don’t wanna rest in peace / I wanna dance in joy / I wanna dance in the graveyards, the graveyards / And while I’m alive, I don’t wanna be alone / Mourning the ones who came before”

If you're listening to the playlist on a loop, you'll return to "Stories." It reminds us that it was all just a story. It will happen again. Stories and characters and people will move us, make us feel and hurt and love. It is an ending just as much as a new beginning.

#imodna #wow sure would love if this showed up in the tag…..#laudna #imogen temult #critical role #am i a little bonkers for this one? maybe #feel free to comment reply interact send an ask etc etc #i have playlist brainrot so like. would happily discuss it endlessly #bonus: you might learn about new artists! bc no hate to anyone but i refuse to put generic love songs on here #cr3 #Spotify

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