#Others may not recognise it unless they know what to look for and he himself needed time (which I think came post-canon) to reflect +

[invre]

Headcanon; post-canon, Mithrun stayed in the Canaries lodging for a while — his squad were happy for that, and none moreso than Pattadol who worries a fair bit about him living alone. But, ultimately, he got his own place in Melini once everyone else had moved on as well.

Despite being from a noble family and having connections to both his brother and the new King, he saw little reason to pull said strings. It probably was suggested by Pattadol and maybe also Cithis that having live-in servants might be beneficial, but he declined. Having a large home and servants felt no different than the lodging quarters, so what was the point? He would only be there periodically, anyway.

Mithrun has a simple house in Melini with a fairly large garden. It's an average sized house, primarily built from wood— the one thing he did accept help on was having it furnished/decorated, because it would have been the same to him if he had nothing besides a mattress to sleep on— and everyone seemed bothered by that idea. It's actually quite a nice space, now. The garden is mostly made up of flowers and a few fruit/vegetable patches, though none of it is Mithrun's doing. It was all left from the previous owners.

His home is cozy, to a degree, but it does feel slightly... Impersonal. When visiting his brother for the first time post-canon, he had given Mithrun two boxes full of his personal affects from before he joined the Canaries. Books, jewellery, photo frames, and so on. Those boxes were brought back to Melini, but they're just sitting there gathering dust.

That said, one photo that does hang on his wall — a moving-in surprise, courtesy of those who helped him decorate — is a framed picture of their squad, the official photo they all took together when initially assigned. They all look morose or pissed-off, for the most part, but they're together. Despite their circumstances (and clashing personalities), they did spend a lot of time together and a strange kinship appeared to have formed. He does look at that photo sometimes.

[darqx]

Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

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

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

[radioactivesweet]

Hello!!~ May I pretty pls, get more headcanons about Nyx!s/o?; Ares, Beelzebub, Loki and Tesla with a Nyx! s/o?~

(Just imagine Loki using his s/o to scare Zeus, I can’t— 💀✨)

Also, feel free to add other characters if you want ^ - ^

Ngl I'm enjoying this Nyx!s/o requests! Nyx is such a cool goddess! And yeah- Loki is definitely using her in his favour hahahah I won't add anymore character tho otherwise I'll end up posting this much much later

Ares, knowing your name and reputation - alongside the fact that his father himself was scared of you - thought you'd be as scary as you were described. Whenever your name was brought up in a conversation - which happened quite rarely - people who'd grow pale and start shivering, which scared Ares immensly, despite trying not to show it. You became a sort of boogeyman in his mind, the kind of creature you'd talk about to children to have them got to sleep. So when he actually met you and discovered you didn't appear to be that frightnening, he immediately warmed up to you, being the himbo he is. When you get close to each other, whenever he sees you, he lights up - which is kinda ironic if you think about it. Ares has his perks and self-preservation doesn't appear to be one of them. How he has become devoid of any fear towards you and instead showers you with affection is a mystery to you, but it's much appreciated. All the rumours surrounding you weren't enough to scare him away after all and he surely is one funny god to have around. Family dinner are quite funny too for you. Zeus tries to avoid them whenever he can and you can have the time of your life by frightening Zeus himself.

Beelzebub recognises how similar you two are from the first moment he met you. Both of you feared and isolated deities, whose name alone makes the earth tremble, associated with darkness and ruin, whose presence is dreadful and nightmarish. Frightnening and unpleasant, he knew he'd get along well with you. To each other though, you're both kinda warmer, despite keeping a certain level of detachement between you two. You know about Beelzebub's curse - and have seen many curses during your long life - and try to look for a solution to it, despite his resistance. Being an ancient deity gave you much more experience than his, yet helping someone who doesn't want to be helped is a difficult job. Despite everything, when you two are together, you have the certainty that nobody will ever dare disturbing you. On your own you are both terrying, together you are Heaven's worst nightmare.

Loki isn't scared of you, what he's scared of is Odin finally punishing him for one of his many pranks. You are actually the one who could save him from his miserable fate! Not even Odin would dare to punish him if it meant crossing your path. You silently checking on him is more than enough for Loki to do whatever he want without having to deal with the consequences - unless he angers you, at that rate he'd probably be annihilated, but he doesn't want to reach that point. He is mischievous, not stupid, and doesn't want to die either. At first, he has to admit it, Loki was a little put off by you. You were intimidating to say the least, but he already had his good share of frightnening deities to deal with. You can be sure he will never and ever pull a prank on you, even though he'd like to try once. It may be his last prank though.

Nikola is the child of light; you are the goddess of night. The bright scientist and the gloomy deity. Complete opposites, yet he is enchanted by you. Nikola, believing in the power of science instead of gods' doesn't really understand why you seem to be feared by others. He can see how you can appear a little intimidating but aside from that, he finds your presence quite pleasant! Nikola believes that thanks to you he may also progress with his experiments - he is quite interested in your powers too. He doesn't want you to feel like a guinea pig though, because he doesn't absolutely see you that way. You are someone he knows will be of help in his researchs and sees you as a beacon who could make humanity itself evolve. You are his partner and Nikola values a lot your opinions and beliefs. The fact that you are an incredibly powerful deity is a bonus he doesn't dislike though. Thanks to his light and your darkness, he knows you'll be able to achieve great things together.

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Do you think that If there were other wealey/potter kids in slytherin that it would take away from albus's story and character? Also what do you think are the certain traits that are a must for writing him? Like AUs can change his character but what things need to be the same to still be albus?

GREAT QUESTION BECAUSE I ALSO WONDERED THIS A WHILE AGO.

No, I don't think Albus being in Slytherin was the root of his problems. Yes, people wouldn't care as much because he isn't the FIRST Potter/Weasley, but he's STILL Harry Potters child and unless it was James Sirius that was Slytherin, it would have still been a big deal. (It would've been a big deal anyway). Now if Harry was the one in Slytherin, nobody would care. Infact, Slytherin would gain a pretty good reputation. BUT there's one issue, Albus Potter is terrible at magic, and he hung around with Scorpius Malfoy. THAT was what really made all the bullying start, so that would keep his character on track and not change much of the story. We even see in the play that Albus and Harrys issues don't lay in him being a Slytherin, so they'd still have the fight, and he'd still try save Cedric!

Now onto the next question. Some quintessential Albus things that I personally think are important to his character are these:

1. Being a Slytherin. I think taking away this key part of him, or even just any of the traits that come along with it, ruin his character. If you show me an Albus who is brave and disregards his safety and would throw himself infront of an avada for people, I will not recognise him.

2. Being sharp tounged/surly. This may just be me, but i think him being able to bite back at Harry on the spot in a way that really hurts and isn't just a playground taunt is amazing. He had to go through shit to get a backbone and by god he won't let it go to waste. Timid, shy Albus just doesn't work well for me, it feels like doing an injustice.

3. Being bad at magic. One of the biggest things with Albus is the fact he has no talent. His dad was Harry Potter and he's the saviour of the wizarding world, who learned to cast a Patronus at 13, who tutored a group of students in DADA at 14, who survived the killing curse 2 times, and many more things. Albus was terrible at spells, he was surprised he could perform Incendio whilst going into third year (a first year spell), he only learned expeliarmus in 4th year, and he couldnt even get his broom to lift. But these things are IMPORTANT! Because he has so much pressure put onto him as Harry Potters son and he SHOULD be working extra hard to make up for being in Slytherin, but he doesn't even try. He only learns spells that would be useful to him in a situation, but otherwise he just can't find it in him to even care. I dunno this is just important okay okay.

4. His relationship with Harry. I dislike people thinking Harry should've been the perfect dad, and that he should've understood Albus. Harry probably doesn't even accept the fact he experienced abuse or bullying, nevermind trying to understand his son who is open with the fact. Their relationship and their reconciliation at the end of the play is essential, because it shows that they both care about eachother so much and just don't know how to show it. It's sweet.

5. Scorpius always has to be his bestfriend. Even if it starts with them being enemies and becoming bestfriends. If he isn't even mentioned in a fic or characters act like they don't know him... God... SOB.

6. LOOKING LIKE HARRY. Albus needs to look into the mirror and feel sick at the sight of his face because a young version of his dad stares back at him. He needs to become a teenager and find appreciation in the sallowness of his face, in the murky green of his eyes, and the awkward way he stands, because he finally looks different from Harry and its all he wanted. He loves his dad, but he needs people to know he's a seperate entity. Yeah... yeah this is essential for sure mhmhmhm

7. DRY HUMOR. THATS IT. PLEASE MAKE HIM SARCASTIC.

Okay that's it uhh I guess SOME of these could be taken away and it'd be fine but overall Albus needs to be characterised as a self proclaimed git who pretends to hate his dad that he is a replica of and is always sad slash angry except when he's around his bestfriend. Thanks you for the ask..🙏

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 2: Social Perception of Werewolves.

Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)

Words: Approx. 8000

Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself)

PRISONER OF AZKABAN

Chapter 5 (In the last part, we saw that he was constantly described physically as being pale, ill, exhausted, grey-haired... but I omitted his other constant description: Shabby.)

pg 59 The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes which had been darned in several places.

Darning is to mend holes with stitches, creating a patch out of thread. This is a really nice image, alongside the lettering on his case: He has meticulously darned the holes in his robes. He has put his name on his case. He looks shabby – but full of effort and delicate care for detail, gaining skills to make do with what he has.

pg 60 'Well, I hope he's up to it,' said Ron doubtfully: 'He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway ...' he turned to Harry, 'what were you going to tell us?'

Chapter 7

pg 99 He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

Chapter 8

Notes: His clothes are really not up to par with how shabby, patched and frayed they are.

pg 107 'Look at the state of his robes,' Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. 'He dresses like our old house-elf.' But nobody else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf identification is common knowledge, likely for safety reasons Secondary Notes: Possible Remus has been avoiding the topic of werewolves, holding the class back to not reach it

pg 128/129 'Are you telling me that professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between–' … … 'Silence!' snarled Snape. 'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are...' … … 'Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this an eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it a three...'

It is common knowledge for magical folk, thirteen and over, to recognise werewolves. They're well understood – perhaps considered a likely danger, important to understand. Example: If you are out gathering ingredients on the Full Moon, or brewing a potion under its light, or simply traveling... you need to be able to tell a werewolf from a true wolf at a glance – so you know what spells to cast - whether to stay or run. Also – unless Snape is being hyperbolic and expecting far too much of the class – Lupin may be holding the class back intentionally so that he didn't reach werewolves, avoiding the topic for his own sake.

Chapter 10

Pg 139 Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.'Don't worry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'

Lupin is happy the kids haven't done their essay. Rather than extending the due date, or shortening the length, or doing anything that encourages learning – he cancels the entire task.

Pg 147 Harry squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ('Unusual Tastes'). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. Harry sneaked up behind them. 'Urgh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect,' Hermione was saying.

Nothing to do with Lycanthropy – but I found this interesting: Honeydukes stocks lollies made for Vampires. Hermione might be wrong – maybe they're even for werewolves too – but the only Vampire we meet is introduced with some respect. Vampires are a topic that deserves its own meta-thingy, like this – but it is interesting that a 'Being' that is so dangerous, feared and possibly parasitic to Humanity is accepted enough to have lollipops! Is it a class thing...? There are ancient and powerful families of Vampires – while Werewolves tend to be Wizards-made-poor?

Chapter 12

pg 183 'They call it the Dementors' Kiss,' said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. ... 'He deserves it,' he said suddenly. 'You think so?' said Lupin lightly. 'Do you really think anyone deserves that?'

Remus seems to have strong feelings on the Kiss. He insinuates he doesn't believe anyone deserves it, through his calm and vague manner. Could just be his moral standing on the issue? His father studied them – maybe he just thinks they're awful. But consider, as a werewolf, he could face Azkaban with one misstep. I wonder if he dwells on that often.

Chapter 21 Notes: Werewolf and Murderer are suggested to the Minister with relatively equal weight. 'Werewolves are so mistrusted … his support will count for very little.' - given more weight than the fact he and Sirius are old friends.

pg 283 "Consider, Minister: against all school rules - after all the precautions put in place for his protection - out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer - and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally, too -'

'Werewolf' and 'Murderer' are given relatively equal weighting. Both are 'monsters', I suppose.

pg 287 'Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little - and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends -'

I didn't put this in the previous part: Just the small fact werewolves cannot talk when transformed. Seems obvious, but it's good to have confirmation.

Chapter 22

Notes: Lower your voice when talking about werewolves. Anyone would expect it'll send you packing. Lupin doesn't think the social backlash worth fighting, nor the danger worth mitigating. He failed once – and cannot trust himself a second time.

pg 308 'Blimey, haven' yeh heard?' said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. 'Er - Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'... thought everyone'd know by now... Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose in the grounds las' night. He's packin' now, o' course.'

Note: Hagrid is a Half-Giant, hated just as much if not more than a werewolf – when he made a 'mistake' he was expelled and his wand shattered. He is sympathetic to Remus but understanding of the reality of needing to go. He isn't being callous here at all.

pg 309 'This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents - they will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you... that must never happen again.'

Lupin confirms that he cannot control himself when transformed. He see's himself, and his failure, as a true danger that is not worth trying to mitigate.

~~~ ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

Chapter 3

pg 47 Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back through his shock.

He is tired, he is ill, he is grey and he is shabby. More than that: Even shabbier than they were over a year ago. He has patched them more – are they the same clothes?!?

Chapter 5

pg 94 “And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community,” said Lupin. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.”

He's being a little cheeky – but its clear he accepts his fate: people won't like him. He is lucky some of the community accepts him.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf segregation laws exist.

pg 170/171 Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights. “I mean, it’s the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn’t it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they’re superior to other creatures..."

We don't get to see Lupin's reaction to this – but it's likely more nuanced than Hermione's assumptions, especially considering Remus' 'acceptance' of his situation. Hermione see's the plight of werewolves as similar to the plight of House-Elves... well-meaning, but false, and insensitive to both House-Elves and people with Lycanthropy. Her wording suggests she instinctively doesn't think of Remus as a wizard, a human – but as a werewolf.

Chapter 12

Notes: Prejudice people call werewolves 'half-breeds' – already an insulting term for actual part-humans, but factually incorrect for werewolves. Lycanthropy is not a race or species.

pg 245 “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.” “If you mean Professor Lupin,” piped up Dean Thomas angrily, “he was the best we ever—”

I hate to say it: she has a point – but she should have kept it at 'irresponsible wizards'. She is being speciesist and offensive: werewolves are not half-breed or part-human. They are 'whole' humans with Lycanthropy. Calling them half-breeds suggests they are 'less than human' and/or have 'lost some humanity'. Remus is not part-human, he is an irresponsible wizard. Dean's got his back though. get behind him, Remus

Chapter 14

pg 302 “Yes, but the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters,” said Sirius with a wry smile. “I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her.” “Does Lupin know her?” asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson. “No,” said Sirius, “but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.” Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened even further. “What’s she got against werewolves?” said Hermione angrily. “Scared of them, I expect,” said Sirius, smiling at her indignation.

It's unclear if her anti-werewolf legislation was before or after Severus exposed Remus. I don't think it's ridiculous to think it was after, though that'd be more like 1.5yrs... Either way – soft confirmation that Remus is shabby from his financial situation, and that his financial situation is directly tied to social perception of his Lycanthropy. He also isn't entirely passive and accepting of his lot in life: he is angry about it when it goes too far.

Chapter 15

pg 308 Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.

Remus listed right alongside a half-giant. More interesting that Moody is listed as one of them, making sure to call him 'delusional' and without even printing his actual fucking name. Disgusting. Being part-human, physically sick, mentally sick... all similar, right? None of them are any good.

Chapter 22

Notes: Even 'accepting' people question their safety around werewolves. Healers may be more sympathetic – due to understanding them more and dealing with them more. Hospitals likely have rooms prepared for werewolf transformations. Secondary Notes: A recent Lycanthropy case may have anger issues.

pg 488/489 "...But that fellow over there,” he said, dropping his voice and nodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. “Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all.” “A werewolf?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. “Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn’t he be in a private room?” “It’s two weeks till full moon,” Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly. “They’ve been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he’ll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn’t mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage. ...” “What did he say?” asked George. “Said he’d give me another bite if I didn’t shut up,” said Mr. Weasley sadly.

'Can Arthur stop being perfect for even one second' challenge: impossible. When talking about Lycanthropy: you lower your voice. It's a dirty topic. Arthur, at least, is also being mindful of the patients privacy... but Molly is reacting with prejudice. He is a werewolf so he is unsafe. Interestingly, the Healers seem to be sympathetic – and what Molly says suggests there are private rooms fitted for werewolves. Though that's likely a necessity for a hospital rather than a kindness.

The patient seems to have some anger issues right now... though I would too, if I had been infected by an isolating, degrading, painful illness and everyone kept telling me how 'normal' I could be. Arthur means well. He is sad he upset him. I love you Arthur.

Chapter 23

Secondary Notes: Lycanthropy may be enough to have you disowned by friends and family.

pg 507 Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley;

Did he have nobody in his life before he was bitten? Or has he lost them all now? I'm crying.

Chapter 28

pg 643 “How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. pg 645 “I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

James and Sirius are both loose-lipped and casual about his Lycanthropy. They see it as fun. Remus does not see it as fun. He is serious about it. Annoyed by James – pissed at Sirius.

Chapter 38

pg 867 Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers.

Threadbare, too... can someone please fund a shopping trip for this man? Hand-me-downs? Is he too stubborn about it? Molly I am begging you to knit him a nice sweater.

~~~ HALF BLOOD PRINCE

Chapter 6

pg 94 To Mrs. Weasley’s displeasure, Harry’s sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

'Ship of Theseus' ass robes

Chapter 16

Notes: Most werewolves live outside of society, in groups following Fenrir Greyback. They are bitten young, taken from their parents and raised in cult-like societies that shun any who have contact to healthy Wizards – believing they are deserving of 'blood', revenge and over-taking society. They struggle out there with getting enough supplies and food, having to steal or kill to eat – and probably are largely uneducated. They follow Voldemort, through Greyback, in the belief his re-formation of society will benefit them. Remus is bitter about being 'equals' with these people, but has sympathy for them even if he sees them – and himself – as lesser than healthy Wizards. The idea he isn't is sweet but naïve to him. He doesn't fit in around them because he was raised and lives around wizarding society. Remus doesn't fit in with wizards either – and is extremely thankful for any help he receives. pg 281

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin,who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina’s voice.

pg 283/284

“I neither like nor dislike Severus,” said Lupin. “No, Harry, I am speaking the truth,” he added, as Harry pulled a skeptical expression. “We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon.” “But he ‘accidentally’ let it slip that you’re a werewolf, so you had to leave!” said Harry angrily. Lupin shrugged. “The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful.” “Maybe he didn’t dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!” said Harry. “You are determined to hate him, Harry,” said Lupin with a faint smile.

Remus appreciates Severus' dedication to his health. He see's it as a kindness: Severus had every reason to mess with it but kept him healthy instead. He was dedicated to Remus' health. It was because of Severus that he had his most comfortable year since he was a teenager – and he see's Harry's insistence on seeing the worst in Severus as ridiculous because of it.

Pg 284/285/286 “Oh, I’ve been underground,” said Lupin. “Almost literally. That’s why I haven’t been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been living among my fellows, my equals,” said Lupin. “Werewolves,” he added, at Harry’s look of incomprehension. “Nearly all of them are on Voldemort’s side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was... ready-made.”He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, “I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat.” “How come they like Voldemort?” “They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life,” said Lupin. “And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there “ “Who’s Greyback?” “You haven’t heard of him?” Lupin’s hands closed convulsively in his lap. “Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children... Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people’s sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.” Lupin paused and then said, “It was Greyback who bit me.” “What?” said Harry, astonished. “When — when you were a kid, you mean?” “Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback’s insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.”“But you are normal!” said Harry fiercely. “You’ve just got a — a problem —”Lupin burst out laughing. “Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’ in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit.”

- Werewolves live so far that they are 'almost literally underground'. - They shun 'normal' society so hard that they distrust and outcast werewolves that don't. Cult-like. - 'It is hard to argue with Greyback out there' – it really is cult-like. More on that in Part 4. - Survival is difficult enough that they steal and even kill just to eat. Good luck out there, Remus. - It is possible that Remus couldn't write because having connections to wizards is frowned upon – but also that the average werewolf cannot read or write. Greyback bites children and raises them away from other Wizards... its doubtful they get a decent education. - Almost all werewolves are on Voldemorts side. Damn. More on that in Part 4 – but damn, they really are desperate. - At the moment, Voldemort has promised Greyback children to bite for his dream of overtaking healthy wizards. - Harry thinks of Remus as such a normal guy that him being a werewolf barely crosses his thoughts, unlike Hermione and most people in general. They see him as "Remus the Werewolf" rather than "Remus the DADA teacher who taught how to be brave" ... ... - Remus see's himself unequal to other wizards. This confuses the Harry. - Remus is bitter not at Albus for giving him the task – but that it is his lot in life. He wishes he didn't have to do it, didn't have to be around 'his equals', when they are so awful. - Remus is empathetic to other werewolves (even the one that bit him) because he understands well the lack of control and the pain. - He has less empathy for Greyback because he plans to hurt people. Control is important to him. - Remus thinks Harry's insistence that he is 'normal but with a problem' is endearing and funny. It is an unusual stance to take.

Chapter 22

pg 400 “What was the werewolf’s name?” said Harry quickly. “Well, the rumor is that it was that Fenrir Greyback,” said Hermione. “I knew it — the maniac who likes attacking kids, the one Lupin told me about!” said Harry angrily.

Even amongst werewolf hearsay and bad press Greyback is a maniac of a werewolf. Going out of the way to bite children is odd.

Chapter 29

pg 523/524 “We don’t yet know,” said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Lupin.

Oh yeah, sure. Because all werewolves know everything about Lycanthropy. Nice one, Minnie. I'm joking – he really would be the expert in the room, a werewolf himself and someone with interest in magical creatures. :^)

pg 525 “You see!” said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —” pg 526 “And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor... too dangerous...”“I’ve said all along you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus,” said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur’s shoulder as she patted her on the back. “I am no being ridiculous,” said Lupin steadily. “Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.”“But she wants you,” said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. “And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.” He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.“This is... not the moment to discuss it,” said Lupin, avoiding everybody’s eyes as he looked around distractedly. “Dumbledore is dead...”“Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world,” said Professor McGonagall curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked in.

Bill will be disfigured and contaminated – but the social stigma of that isn't as bad as someone with full Lycanthropy. The Weasleys – even Molly – are supportive of Remus, Arthur specifically pointing out that disability can happen to anyone. McGonagall's views probably mirror Albus' who has been nothing but supportive to Remus. However I think its clear by now that these views are not the norm. ... ... Alongside classism, ageism and believing himself dangerous – Remus is extremely aware of his social standing, doesn't wish to fight it and doesn't want to drag someone 'young and whole' with him. He see's himself as 'incomplete'. If that has some parallels to Umbridge's 'half-breed' comments – it's internalised speciesism as well as ableism: Half-breeds are not 'incomplete' people and he isn't even a half-breed. There is no way Remus would think less of Hagrid or Flitwick so it's bigotry saved for people like himself.

~~~ DEATHLY HALLOWS

Chapter 1 (Extremist Pureblood views – but they reflect a stronger version of larger societal views: Fudge tries to appease the masses, as does Rita Skeeter, with similar sentiments to these. Even the Weasley's have shown negative knee-jerk reactions to werewolves. I say this to keep in mind that while society at large wouldn't burst out laughing in mocking disgust at their family member marrying a werewolf... they still wouldn't think warmly of it.)

pg 13 “I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.” There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation.“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We – Narcissa and I – have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.” pg 14 “What say you, Draco?��� asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. “Will you babysit the cubs?” … … “Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. “You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.” “Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!” “You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain…”

Death Eaters think werewolves 'beasts' no matter their blood purity. They aren't even human anymore, their children – despite not being contaminated themselves – are regarded as 'cubs'. The thought of having someone 'contaminated' with Lycanthropy in the family is literally laughable. It is better to kill the diseased than wear the shame of mere association. Eugenics? In the Death Eaters? In Wizarding society generally? Gasp. What a shock. Chapter 5

Notes: Bellatrix want's Tonks dead as much as she want's Harry – because she married Remus.

pg 70 Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere. “Remus!” Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin’s arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak. … … “So what kept you? What happened?” Lupin sounded almost angry at Tonks. “Bellatrix,” said Tonks. “She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus, she tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I’d got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus... Then we got to Ron’s Auntie Muriel’s and we’d missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us –” … … A muscle was jumping in Lupin’s jaw. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else.

Cute. He was so stressed, so scared. My man can't express himself – he was scared he lost her... he's busting a blood vessel realizing how important she is to him.

Chapter 7

Notes: The Ministry is so anti-werewolf right now Remus, Tonks and maybe Arthur feel it would be better for everyone – especially Harry – for them to leave rather than be in the vicinity of the Minister.

pg 108/109 They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley’s voice. “Minister of Magic coming with me.” The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur’s family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished. “We shouldn’t be here,” said Lupin at once. “Harry – I’m sorry – I’ll explain another time –”He seized Tonks’s wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

Chapter 8

pg 123/124 “Arthur told us you were the one with the curly hair. Sorry about last night,” she added in a whisper as Harry led them up the aisle. “The Ministry’s being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors.”“It’s fine, I understand,” said Harry, speaking more to Lupin than Tonks. Lupin gave him a swift smile, but as they turned away, Harry saw Lupin’s face fall again into lines of misery. He did not understand it, but there was no time to dwell on the matter: Hagrid was causing a certain amount of disruption.

They all needed to be warned about the Minister – but I don't doubt some of that warning was for Remus. Arthur would know just how anti-werewolf the ministry had been... while Molly may not. It's so bad (and Tonks agrees with that assessment) that he scampered away over a fence. He willingly took Tonks with him and later looked miserable... he's probably found out she's pregnant.

Chapter 10

pg 157 On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included... or was it simply because Harry knew how it had been, that he saw these things in the picture?

Chapter 11

Notes: Remus is extremely upset that he got Tonks pregnant – enough to regret marrying her at all. Association with him has made Tonks, and his child, outcasts – even to her own family. The treatment we see him get from Dumbledore's allies is far better than most, who won't even talk to 'creatures like him' – seeing him not as a 'Being' but a 'Beast'. It is so good he has come to expect being comforted rather than berated. Werewolves don't usually have kids, despite the condition not passing from parent to child. The stress of this entire situation has made him deranged and almost delusional. Baby is bad.

pg 185 “Remus,” said Hermione tentatively, “is everything all right... you know... between you and –” “Everything is fine, thank you,” said Lupin pointedly. Hermione turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, “Tonks is going to have a baby.” “Oh, how wonderful!” squealed Hermione. “Excellent!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Congratulations,” said Harry. Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, “So... do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.” … … “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.” Lupin’s face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees.

Remus is only just holding back his disdain for 'making a young and whole woman have his cubs'. He feels so bad that he wants to go and do something useful and good. Something that makes him feel Dumbledore's positive belief in him again. 'Will three become four'... he is desperate for it, pushing the point as their 'teacher' – he needs to be reckless to distract from his reality. Again. Hiding your condition to get an education...? Go on walkabouts you know are bad. Awesome job with Dumbledores support...? Go make every bad decision in PoA. Got someone pregnant...? Go help the kids with the biggest target on their back.

pg 186/187 “You don’t understand,” said Lupin at last. “Explain, then,” said Harry. Lupin swallowed. “I – I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since.” “I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?”Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face.“Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!” Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. “You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts! You don’t know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don’t you see what I’ve done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child – the child –”Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged. “My kind don’t usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it – how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!” “Remus!” whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. “Don’t say that – how could any child be ashamed of you?” “Oh, I don’t know, Hermione,” said Harry. “I’d be pretty ashamed of him.” Harry did not know where his rage was coming from, but it had propelled him to his feet too. Lupin looked as though Harry had hit him.“If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad,” Harry said, “what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father’s in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he’d tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?” “How – how dare you?” said Lupin. “This is not about a desire for – for danger or personal glory – how dare you suggest such a –”“I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,” Harry said. “You fancy stepping into Sirius’s shoes –” “Harry, no!” Hermione begged him, but he continued to glare into Lupin’s livid face. “I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.”Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing around the door. “Remus, Remus, come back!” Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

- Remus believes marrying Tonks was a mistake – because just the act of marrying her has made her, and their child, outcasts. - 'Her own family is disgusted' as if her family's values are worthwhile. - He is treated the best by Dumbledore's people. - 'My kind don't usually breed' he is a wizard. He is a human being with Lycanthropy. Others with Lycanthropy may rarely have children due to social stigma – but the language he is using... yeesh. - The condition is not passed from father to child, but Remus is convinced it will, that he has ruined everything and everyone forever... he's deranged and upset about it. - Believes his son will be ashamed of him for being a werewolf. He is better off out of his life. - Despite this deep belief he is shameful – hearing it from Harry still hurts like a hit. He is used to being comforted. - Harry insinuates 'half-werewolf' (I don't think he believes this term himself) with an Order father is worse even than being muggle-born. (He also says he should be prepared to die for his family like James did, which I don't agree with, but he is making a point so I'll let him cook.) - Remus says he isn't doing this for glory – and he is mostly truthful. He messed up so he is running away from home before people can yell at him. He wants to be useful instead. - Harry likens him to Sirius: stifled, near-suicidal, itching to do anything to help – which is apt. He call's Remus a coward and he gets so angry he lashes out and runs away because he can't deny that. Chapter 24

pg 421/422 “You buried the elf,” he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. “I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door.” “Yes,” said Harry. Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes.“You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter.” “In what way?” asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently. “You dug the grave.” “So?” Griphook did not answer. Harry rather thought he was being sneered at for acting like a Muggle, but it did not much matter to him whether Griphook approved of Dobby’s grave or not. He gathered himself for the attack. “Griphook, I need to ask –” “You also rescued a goblin.” “What?” “You brought me here. Saved me.” “Well, I take it you’re not sorry?” said Harry a little impatiently. “No, Harry Potter,” said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, “but you are a very odd wizard.”

Werewolves are wizards – not House-Elves or Goblins. However we see them called beasts, half-bloods - regarded as 'less than human'. This makes Griphooks view on Wizards... interesting. He thinks Harry is a strangely kind wizard for saving his life, and giving a House-Elf respect. The bar is set extremely low when it comes to the treatment of fellow Beings, it seems. I wonder: are unloved werewolves given graves...?

Chapter 25

pg 446 “It is I, Remus John Lupin!” called a voice over the howling wind. Harry experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”“Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father!” pg 447 “I can’t stay long, I must get back,” said Lupin, beaming around at them all: He looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him.

His traveling cloak isn't shabby :'( how very OOC of him Love that his joy for his son being born is an 'emergency'.

Chapter 33

pg 578 “What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily. “They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?”“He’s ill,” said Lily. “They say he’s ill –”“Every month at the full moon?” said Snape. “I know your theory,” said Lily, and she sounded cold. “Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

A theory, a suggestion, of Lycanthropy is dire – enough to make a muggleborn react strongly on behalf of someone else. 'Trying to show you they're not as wonderful' – just because Remus has Lycanthropy, and the others shelter that, they are all bad.

~~~ SUMMARY OF THIS PART:

Lycanthropy is a dirty topic. Regardless of who is nearby - you lower your voice when speaking about it. People do not joke around with the topic of werewolves. It is not to be taken lightly - accusations are serious. Remus is upset even when his friends joke about his condition or treat it lightly.

Pureblood Supremacists regard werewolves as 'beasts' rather than people, no matter their blood purity. Lycanthropy has ruined them, even their potential children will be 'cubs' - they are better off dead. To be associated with such an 'animal' in any way other than as a servant is ridiculously tragic and shameful.

While slightly less extreme: regular society reflects these values.

They might not think of werewolves as 'beasts' but they certainly don't regard them as 'normal people'. They are thought of as dangerous by nature, untrustworthy - likened to half-giants, murderers and the mentally ill... called 'half-breeds' despite not being half anything. Just being bitten could be enough to have you disowned from your family and friends.

Even those who are more sympathetic can be guarded, likening them more to non-human beings or part-humans than accepting them as fully human. They are potentially less accepted than Vampires.

At school students learn how to identify werewolves as creatures like hinkeypunks and kappa. There are laws segregating people with Lycanthropy, preventing them from working almost entirely. Being seen associating with a werewolf by the Ministry will reflect negatively on you. They are truly pariahs. It seems the only kindness in society is within hospitals - where Healers will still care for them and might have facilities to support them... at least when first bitten, while they are seen as a tragedy.

It is shocking to a Goblin to even have his life saved, or to see a House-Elf given a funeral - and both of those species at least are not 'dangerous' and have a place, a role, within society (though narrow and without many rights or freedoms). Werewolves have nothing. They are segregated, feared, thought of as animals - most people won't even speak to them. Being bitten has taken some of their humanity away in their eyes. It's unsurprising that most werewolves live outside of society, so far out that stealing and killing is sometimes necessary for survival. That perpetuates negative stereotypes... but changing minds is not the popular argument:

Fenrir Greyback might be considered a maniac even amongst those who already distrust werewolves - but he is king. He bites children, takes them from their parents and raises them to believe they deserve revenge - they will one day overtake 'normal' society and Lord Voldemort will help them get there. It is cult-like in the way they shun even other werewolves if they have had any contact with, or were raised by, 'normal' society. Considering Fenrir's victims are taken from their parents when young - and no werewolves go to Hogwarts - it's likely most werewolves aren't well educated... which makes it difficult for Remus to fit in.

Remus was lucky to have been one of Fenrir's early bites, before he was a household name, before he snatched kids away. He grew up in 'normal' society with loving parents... but it isn't enough to escape poverty. He struggles to find work. His clothes are shabby, frayed, threadbare, ragged - he darns and patches them himself. … … Remus doesn't expect to ever fit in. He will have to sneak around forever, sticking to the edges of society, trying to never give anyone reason to suspect him so he can at least enjoy some politeness. Even that is more than he deserves.

While he does believe those like him, who try not to cause trouble, are worth a little more credit - Lycanthropy is still a black mark he can never wash off. He accepts people won't like him as a fact of life.

He relishes positive attention. He is pleased when his student's don't want to do their werewolf essay. He cancels it - he might have even been holding them back to avoid having to teach it.

Despite believing himself shameful - having Harry agree rather than comforting him made him flinch like he was hit. Harry's opinion means a lot to him. Dumbledore has always been kind to him - and he has just about dedicated his life to him in return.

Severus supplying him with Wolfsbane without messing with it to weaken him is, to him, an extreme kindness he has nothing but gratitude for... while outing him as a werewolf was deserved.

Remus see's himself as unequal to other Wizards. Any positivity aimed at him is an undeserved gift. Harry's insistence he is 'normal' with a 'problem' is appreciated but seen as naive. All his mistakes or failures are confirmation that he is dangerous, weak willed, disgusting by nature.

The biggest mistake of his life was marrying Tonks and having a child - because he will ruin them. He brings them shame, everyone will be disgusted with them just by association with him - and they are better off without him in their life. Similar to Pureblood belief.

He doesn't think fighting for his rights or better treatment is a worthwhile endeavour. He buys into the classism, ableism and speciesism that has been thrown against him - at least a little. He might not think part-humans are less-than-human - but he considers himself un-whole. He may not look down on others for their poverty or their physical issues but he looks down on himself.

However he believes himself a little better than other werewolves: He is bitter they are 'his kind', his 'equals'... because living with them, trying to fit in, he is more 'wizard' than they are. He does have some pride and empathy for other werewolves that, like him, 'try to be good': he is angry that laws have made it harder for the werewolves that are part of 'normal society' to get work. He is upset that Greyback has been biting and raising young kids to his side - putting them in a position where they must steal and even kill to survive.

He may have strong feelings on the Dementors Kiss as a punishment - perhaps due to it being something he may be subjected to easier than other people.

He goes and spends time with a lonely man in hospital, freshly bitten. In his mind these people, like himself, are ruined, part of their humanity stripped from them.

They are no longer 'whole'.

[wayfayrr]

I can't quite believe this was first in my drafts in feb and I've only gotten to actually writing it these last two weeks.

This fic was based off of five songs from spotify shuffling one of my playlists which was an idea inspired by @trulytiredhermit and then it kinda just went from there

the songs that I based it on were: To my enemies - Saint motel, stalker’s tango - Autoheart, meet me in the woods - Lord Huron, The red means I love you - Madds Buckley and Bitter water by the oh hellos

You know they say you're nobody until someone wants you dead, and I can't help but feel like it's morbidly accurate for everything that's happened to me recently.

That weird shadow brought me here for whatever, most likely because it wants my head for some reason. and then all of a sudden?

I'm one of the most important people to the heroes of Hyrule, brought here by fate for whatever reason and they all love me… although love might not be the best way to describe it. If you were to ask any of them they'd say "It feels so wrong it's right" Heh how ridiculous to be that obsessed, so I ran as far as I could, lost in a world that isn't my own and one that shouldn’t exist out of fiction. Those boys that I once cared for; who promised me they'd find me someway home, but talk is cheap after all and it's oh so effortless to lie when it brings you so many benefits.

The situation was so incredibly strange, I don't think there's any amount of time where I could've gotten used to it despite what they would say. it started, well I can't say normally as nothing about this is normal, but it started well. they were themselves, they were still sane. but then they started to slip letting me out of their sight, less and less and less until it was like I had to be in at least one of their line of sight at all times, they wouldn't let me talk about my home, wouldn't let me focus on things that weren't them always trying to justify it whether it was to me or themselves I could never tell. Perhaps it was both?

This little journey I’ve taken into the unknown?

Oh, I’ll go back changed, I wonder if those I cared about would even recognise me at this point. How long have I been away at this point, it feels like ages yet my phone says it’s only days. Well in the games back home the games always ran on a much faster time scale, it wouldn’t be impossible that I’m still running off of real-world time; if anything it makes more sense with how I’ve not needed to eat or sleep for days on end. I’ve never been away from the links for this long, not since I started travelling with them that is. They’re probably worried sick at this point; it’s probably only a matter of hours until they do manage to find me. Until Wolfie sniffs me out, Sky uses Fi to dowse for my signal, or even Wild traces me with his slate.

“[name]?”

And with that last thought it’s as if I’ve jinxed myself and my hiding spot. The one thing I can be glad for is that it’s Sky who found me, while his anger is terrifying it’s not on the same level as Time, Warrior or Light forbid if Legend was the one to find me. Sky is oh-so-nice compared to them, even if he is a yandere with a strange fascination, a near-obsessive infatuation.

he still treats me like I'm a person though, so there's that. He, I think if I were to end up with any of them it would be him. 

"oh by Hylia, [name] are you alright? you've been missing for so long, we thought you were kidnapped, but by the looks of it, you've managed to escape them! even, even if it did leave you hurt"

his smile doesn't look right. he's lying, lying straight to my face... 

but it's not like he's lying to me. No, it's like he's trying to convince himself that's what happened. His concern is sweet despite how misplaced it may be; I can't bring myself to break it to him that it's not what happened. Unless...

I couldn't, could I?

oh, but I could.

"link, I- I wasn't kidnapped. I was scared of how the others are acting, I didn't feel safe so- so I ran as far as I could"

This affected me more than I thought, seeing as I could barely finish the sentence without stuttering or coming close to bursting into tears, I hope he reacts the way I want him to and by the look of it, he will.

His face instantly fell when I said that, filled with pity and something else I can't quite put my finger on, the closest thing I can think of is pride but even that doesn't seem right, is, is he smug? Why would he be smug that I’m scared of the others when I…

“Oh my dove, you don't need to be worried now, I'm here. I'm the only one you trust after all; the only one of us you need. you're my betrothed, my one true love until the end of time"

his"betrothed", when did he- how would he- how didn't I realise? Is Skyloftian culture so different to my own? oh, what am I saying of course it's that different. why is he reaching for - the feather? he proposed when he gave me that earring, didn't he?

"I knew I made the right choice when I chose you as mine, we’re perfect for each other can’t you see? And I know I shouldn't love you, I know I shouldn't love you but I do and nothing will separate me from you again as long as I draw breath.”

And isn’t that the truth, that look in his eyes, that stupid lovesick look. I’m not a fool entire for I know exactly what it means. The idea that even if I somehow made it home…

He would find me.

And he would never let go.

How are you even supposed to respond to something like this? This declaration of ownership, that no matter what I do I’m his. To think how I idolised him when he was nothing more than a game character, how naive was I?

Even still I can’t bring myself to hate him, even if he’s a walking red flag. Even if he’s someone I should run from in fear - It’s still Sky, still the only one to welcome me with open arms, the only one to treat me ever so kindly when I was petrified of everything.

Part of me is telling me to leave, to do what's smart and practical. But another part is pulling me towards staying, following my heart even if it means taking a risk. I know I’d have regrets either way for I would be losing something I care for no matter my choice and I’ll need to say something soon to him, even if it’s a lie. I can’t bear to see him so worried, even knowing where that worry is from.

I don't know what the right choice is, but I know that I have to make a decision. And no matter what I choose, I'll have to live with the consequences.

[starsandgutters]

Flash Ficlet requests! Oh okay thinking time now…Kevin hopelessly pining after Aaron…I love all of your writing…what to say, what to say…

May I ask about Kevaaron meeting each other before Neil gets recruited? (honestly I’d be happy with anything the way you write them brings me so much joy anytime I read any of it <333)

I wasn't sure if you wanted this canon based or in an AU where they get together instead of Aaron with Katelyn, so I've just left it open ended. I actually think Aaron really didn't like Kevin at the start, and Kevin just didn't care about Aaron. He was too insignificant to him for him to have feelings about.

CWs: Implied abuse Depiction of an anxiety attack Blood mention

Aaron has seen Kevin Day before. Through a screen, yes, multiple times, but also when he came to try and recruit Andrew. As much as he made an impression of a stuck up, arrogant, conceited bitch, Aaron could admit that he knew how to play. His speed and strength on the court were impressive, but he had grace as well, movements fluid despite his size.

Mostly. Aaron noticed sometimes he tensed when he moved too suddenly, or that certain moves held a stiffness to them. Aaron recognised that. Aaron spent a lot of his teens moving around like that, after all. It could have just been injuries from training, the Ravens were hardly known for their clean games, but it made Aaron wonder. 

His suspicions are confirmed when Wymack brings Kevin to the Foxhole Court for the first time. Gone is the superior facade. Kevin Day has been stripped down to a damaged, skittish animal, clutching his injured hand to his chest and warily eying the team. Wymack runs through introductions, tells them Kevin’s going to be assistant coach going forward. A feeble excuse to get him a scholarship, Aaron’s sure. Special privileges for exy’s special little boy. He keeps his gaze set on Kevin the whole time, watching how he holds his left hand in his right, thumb rubbing over the support bandage around it. 

Kevin does not look at Aaron. People rarely do. So he is free to observe all he wants.

*

Any ounce of sympathy Aaron may have managed to scrounge together for Kevin quickly evaporates once he finds his voice. He’s an absolute ass, meticulously tearing each of their play styles apart, heavy on the criticism and light on the constructive. The Foxes are vicious to him in response, and Aaron can’t blame them. He mostly stays out of the arguments, unless Kevin turns his yapping on him directly, then he bares his teeth and snaps back.

Andrew seems endlessly amused by the whole ordeal. He acts unaffected by Kevin’s attitude. Regardless of how hard Kevin tries, he cannot get Andrew to care about this game. Aaron could have told him to save himself the hassle. Andrew doesn’t care about anything since they doped him up on those fucking meds. Aaron thinks they’ve done more harm than good.

Off the court Kevin is only fractionally less irritating. He makes stilted, awkward attempts at conversation, always giving the impression he thinks he’s above them, that he’s lowering himself in talking to them. He never asks anyone questions about themselves, either. Just talks about his interests. Aaron takes any chance he can to contradict him.

“You’re not working on the things I told you to,” Kevin says.

“You’re not my coach or my captain.”

“I’m your assistant coach.”

“We all know that’s just an excuse for Wymack to keep you here after your little boo boo.”

“What the fuck is your problem? Is it the height? You’ve got some kind of Napoleon complex?”

It is, ironically, a low blow. Kevin’s leaning over Aaron, expression warped into one of anger. In spite of the responding anger stirring in Aaron’s body, he smirks. 

“Napoleon was actually around 5’6, which was average for French men of his time. And the Napoleon complex has been disproved. Studies show short men are actually less likely to lose their temper compared to taller men. Maybe you should check your facts before you open your mouth.”

Kevin blinks, like he didn’t expect that, like Aaron has caught him off guard. Of course. Everyone always underestimates him. What else is new?

“Then what’s your excuse?” 

“I don’t need an excuse. You’re a dick. I’m just reflecting your energy back.”

*

Kevin goes from an annoyance Aaron has to deal with for a small segment of his day, to enemy number one when Andrew decides to adopt him. They’ve made some deal that ends up with Andrew and Kevin attached at the hip, meaning Aaron is now faced with Kevin Day everywhere. In the car, at Eden’s, sleeping on the couch in their fucking house, the one place that should have been Aaron’s sanctuary. Andrew had made a deal with Aaron first. Just the two of them, sticking together until graduation, but apparently Kevin gets the special privilege of being an exception. 

What’s worse than Kevin trailing Andrew around like a lost lamb is when Andrew leaves him with Aaron. Aaron really feels that at his big age Kevin should not need babysat, and yet that seems to be what happens on a frequent basis. 

Aaron has mastered the art of sitting in stony silence with people, but petulant princess Kevin Day can only last so long before he talks, and talks, and pushes at Aaron’s buttons until he finally responds. And okay, maybe Aaron doesn’t really talk to people that much outside of school, bar Nicky. Andrew barely looks at him, and their deal keeps him isolated enough that making friends is a challenge. Aaron reflects spitefully on how this is yet another thing that doesn’t apply to Andrew, who befriended Renee during their first year. 

Fuck double standards, actually. Maybe he should just allow that spite to direct him into befriending Kevin as a petty pushback at Andrew. I made a friend too, and what’s worse, mine is your little pet project. 

“Fuck sake, Day, don’t you come with an off button?”

It would probably be a more effective endeavour if Aaron were not an asshole.

*

A glass shattering in the kitchen makes Aaron start. His heart rate rockets up. Years of smashed glasses, plates, slamming doors come rushing back to him, jangling his nerves. He breathes shakily. Reminds himself she’s gone now, he’s okay, it’s just Kevin in the kitchen. 

“What did you break?” he calls, but gets no answer. Cautiously Aaron gets to his feet and makes his way to the kitchen. Kevin is standing by the broken remains of the glass, staring down at it. He’s clutching his left wrist, hands trembling as he hyperventilates. There are tears in his eyes but he hasn’t let any of them fall. Aaron was not prepared to see Kevin’s vulnerability put on display like this, such a far throw from how he’s used to seeing him. He feels his skin tighten and tense with discomfort as the hateful image of Kevin in his mind starts to splinter and crack apart. Kevin’s head turns towards him, eyes wide like a cornered animal. He ducks down towards the glass, still gasping breaths. 

“Don’t.”

Too late. Kevin’s in no state to be cautious with it, and the first shard of glass he touches slices his finger open. He draws it back swiftly. Aaron thinks it’s probably a shallow wound, but it’s bleeding a lot already. He catches Kevin by the arm and hauls him up, pulling roughly when Kevin tries to resist. 

“I’m helping you, dickhead. Come on.”

Kevin tries to glare at him, but with his watery eyes and short, gasping breaths, he’s really not intimidating. Aaron pushes him down into one of the kitchen chairs. He wraps some kitchen roll around Kevin’s bleeding finger, guiding his other hand over to press against it. Kevin’s hands are surprisingly warm against Aaron’s, whose fingers are always cold. 

“Stay. Keep pressure on that,” he says, and runs off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. The only movement Kevin does in his absence is curl in over himself, his back visibly shaking when Aaron comes back. “No, no, you need to sit upright. Come on.”

Aaron pushes at his shoulder, but Kevin resists, curling tighter into himself. Aaron represses a sigh. He tries to soften the impatient edge out of his voice. He can do this. This is what he wants to do, after all. Look after people. He tries to imagine he’s talking to a frightened child instead of Kevin, tries to envision how he would approach that differently. 

“Hey. You’re going to be okay. Kevin, do you hear me? It’s going to be okay, but I need you to sit back for me now. It’s harder to breathe in that position. If you sit up straight it’ll open your airways more. Can you sit up for me?” Aaron tries again, this time with a more gentle touch to Kevin’s shoulder, guiding him up instead of pushing. Kevin looks at him, eyes unsteady, face blotchy. Aaron holds his gaze, trying to keep his face even. “There. That feels better, doesn’t it? Next you need to get some more air in.”

Kevin lifts his hands without letting go of the bloody kitchen roll. He taps them against his chest. Aaron nods.

“I know your chest is hurting, but that’s because you’re not getting enough oxygen. We’re going to do some deep breaths together. You just follow me. The first few are going to suck, but they’ll get easier.” Aaron makes a show of breathing loud and exaggerated. Kevin struggles to mimic him at first, still only getting small, jumping breaths. “Come on, Kevin. You can do this.”

Gradually Kevin’s inhales get longer. Aaron keeps going until Kevin is breathing deep and steady, though there’s still a slight rattle on his exhales. 

“Good. That’s better. I’m going to clean your finger now-”

“I can do it.” Kevin pulls his hand back when Aaron reaches for it. Aaron gives him a flat, unimpressed look. 

“I’m sure you can, but I’m going to.” He grabs Kevin’s forearm. He knows most of the damage was done to his hand, but there are that many connections to the wrist, Aaron’s sure he probably feels pain there too. He’s seen Kevin clutching it a few times. It’s harder to get the leverage to pull his hand back with his forearm, but Aaron manages. “This might sting when I disinfect it.”

Aaron is sure it does, but Kevin sits silent and impassive as he cleans up the blood. He gets a better look at the cut, and like he thought, it seems fairly shallow. It’s just bled a lot. Aaron puts a bandaid on it just in case the movement of Kevin’s hand causes more bleeding. 

“Keep that on for tonight, then put a fresh one on in the morning.” Aaron takes a strip of bandaids out of the kit and hands them to Kevin. Kevin takes them without thanks, but he does meet Aaron’s gaze, something unrecognisable in his face. It’s a world away from the haughty expression that is usually cast Aaron’s way. 

*

Padding downstairs as quietly as he can, Aaron makes his way to the kitchen for a drink of water. He’d startled awake from a bad dream with dry mouth. There’s light from the living room as he passes through. Kevin glances over from where he’s sitting on the couch. There’s an infomercial playing on loop on the TV.

Aaron brings his water through and sits on the armchair. He lifts the remote, glancing at Kevin, but Kevin makes no protest. He looks like he’s just been zoning out with the screen on. Aaron flicks through channels until he comes across Jurassic Park. He doesn’t know why they’re playing it as this god awful hour, but he leaves it on.

“I loved this when I was little,” Kevin says after they’ve been watching for ten minutes.

“Yeah? Me too. What’s your favourite dinosaur?”

“T-Rex. Obviously.”

“Ugh. Basic and predictable.”

“Why, what’s yours?”

“Ankylosaurus.” When Kevin stays quiet, Aaron elaborates: “It’s the armoured one with a club on its tail.”

“I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was little.”

“Makes sense.”

“What did you want to be?”

“A lot of silly things.”

“Like what?”

“When I was really young, a zookeeper. Then a vet. Astronaut lasted quite a while. Marine biologist was only for a few years, before high school.”

“What did you end up studying?”

Aaron looks across, surprised. He didn’t realise Kevin doesn’t know what he’s studying. He probably should have. It’s not like Kevin ever asked, or like he’s shown any interest in Aaron before. It just feels like such a big presence in Aaron’s life, it’s strange for others not to know.

“I’m pre-med. Majoring in bio sciences.”

“Makes sense,” Kevin says after a moment, and graces Aaron with one of his rare smiles. Aaron blames the sleep deprivation for the way he instantly smiles back.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Maze Runner chapter two

Newt and fem reader.

Previous part

You stand with the others, almost uninterested in antics of the boys around you. They all amused you in their own ways but on Greenie days their immaturity shines through. As the box arrived and you all.looked down at the boy inside. Just like every month a wave of disappointment sweeps over you at it not being a girl.

“HEY HEY HELP ME!!” The boy called to them. Gally pulled open the doors and jumped inside.

“Day one greenie. Rise and shine” he grinned, grabbing the boy by his collar and all but throwing him onto the grass.

“ I could use some help in the kitchen” Frypan laughed.

The boy looked around the others who were talking at once and you saw the fear in his eyes. He scrambled to his feet and started running.

“ Hey we got a runner!!”

You just stood and watched as he ran, Newt slid his arm around your shoulders as he laughed.

Between the boys they got him subdued somewhat and dropped him into the pit to calm down a bit. Later on Alby walked past you with a grin and over to the new boy.

“Hey Hey there greenbean Not gonna run again Pff good.” He laughed, “My name is alby, can you tell me anything about yourself. Who you are? Where you came from? Anything at all?” He asked with the same hope he had everytime.

The boy shakes his head, “no”

“Can you tell me your name?” Alby asked. “I-i-idon’t remember anything. Why cant I remember anything?” More panic starts to bubble in the Greenie.

“ It's okay. Hey relax. Relax. Its normal. Happens to us all. You'll get your name back in a day or two. It’s the one thing they let us keep.” Alby explains, patting Thomas in his shoulder.

“What is this place?” Greenie asks.

“Let me show you We eat here, we sleep here, we grow our own food, we build our own shelter, whatever we need the box provides, the rest is up to us,” Alby gestured to each place as he walked through the grass.

“The Box?” Greenie looked around himself.

“Yeah. It's sent up once a month with fresh supplies and a new Greenie. This month that's you. Congratulations.” Alby laughed.

“Sent up'? By who, though'? Who put us here'?” Greenie said as Alby shrugged his shoulders.

“That, we don't know.”

“Hey, are you all right, Alby?” Newt said walking up to them with you by his side.

“Green Bean, meet Newt and y/n. When I'm not around, he's in charge.” He pointed to Newt.

“Well, it's a good thing you're always around then.” You giggle and Newt nudges your arm.

“That was some dash you made earlier. For a second, I thought you had the chops to be a runner.” Newt said to Greenie.

“till you face-planted.” You added.

“That was great.” Newt grinned.

“Wait, a "runner"?” Greenie asked looking at the blonde boy next to you. Looking at the new guy you figured he was around your age, seventeen maybe, he had dark hair that contrasted with Newt's. His eyes though, you're sure you recognise those eyes.

“Newt, do me a favour. Go find Chuck.” Alby breaks your concentration and Newt darts off towards the shelter.

The greenie’s eyes are locked on Mai Mai who had sauntered up to your side.

“Oh, this is Mai Mai. She belongs to y/n, kinda. They are our only girls in the Glade.” Alby explained, “y/n do you wanna check with Frypan if the food is on track?”

“Sure thing.” You say before wandering off with the tiger beside you.

“Look, I'm sorry to rush this. You came up a little late, and there's a lot to do. We got something special planned tonight.” Alby said excitedly. He shows Greenie up the watch tower where he was able to explain everything to him.

“We only have three rules. First, do your part.

No time for any freeloaders. Second,never

harm another Glader. None of this works

unless we have trust. Most importantly… never go beyond those walls. Do you understand me, Greenie?” Albys’s eyes were never so serious than when he said this speech. Greenie nodded, though his mind screamed to know what was out there.

You sat below the shade of a tree by the shelter and listened to Chuck going through more things with the Greenie. Every new kid was sent with a hammock and blankets so they were working on getting that set up.

“It's basically the same story for all of us. We wake up in the Box, Alby gives us the tour, then here we are.” He explains, “Don't worry.

You're already doing better than I did. I clunked my pants three times before they got

me out of the pit.” Chuck turns to see Greenie walking away from him.

“No, come on. Dude, where are you going?”

“I just wanna see.” He says back.

“You can look around all you want but you better not go out there.” Chuck warned.

“Why not? What's through there?” Greenie pushed.

“I don't know. I just know what I'm told And we're not supposed to leave.” He sighed. Greenie copies the act.

“Hey, Chuck. New Greenie huh? How does it feel to be promoted?” Ben laughed. You liked Ben, he was the fifth boy to come up and a good friend. Though he had once told you he liked you a little more than that, you didn't return his feelings.

At the entrance to the maze you see the runners coming back in.

“I thought no one was allowed to leave.” The Greenie said.

“I said we're not allowed to leave.” Chuck states.

“ They're different, they're runners. They know more about the maze than anyone.” you elaborate drawing their attention to you.

“Wait, what?” he asked.

“What?” Chuck drops his head.

“What? You just said "maze."” He looks at you then back to the entrance.

“I did?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Chuck nodded, “Where are you going?”

“What are you doing?” You say getting up from the floor and disturbing the sleeping tiger.

“I'm just gonna take a look.” Greenie started walking away from the shelter.

“I told you, you can't. No one leaves, especially not now. It's not safe.” Chuck scrambles to keep up.

“Okay, all right, I'm not gonna go.” He says and he stands looking out into the Maze. You remember that look, Minho used to get that look.

Just as you were about to start running Gally came bounding across the field and pushed Greenie to the floor. He stood over him.

“We gotta stop meeting like this Greenie.”

He scrambled to his feet and you feel the other boys running to see what was happening.

New tries to calm him down but Greenie wants to know what is out there. You step forward and Mai Mai makes sure no one else can.

“Hey Greenie, it's for your own safety, okay? We can't just let you leave.”

“Why not?” Just as he asked, there's an echo that ricochets through the maze walls. Everyone turns to it and an eerie silence falls over the gathered boys. Mai Mai comes up to your side then rounds the Greenie and pushes him out of the entrance way.

“What the hell?” Greenie says. You all watch as the walls.of the entrance begin to move, closing in on each other. Everyone started to disperse and return to their jobs as Greenie watched the doors until they were fully closed. Once again Mai Mai nudged at his waist and pushed him backwards a few steps.

“Okay, okay. I'm going.” He held his hands up to her and turned round to you and Newt, he had once again flung his arm around your shoulder.

“Come on Greenie.” He beckoned, turning you both away.

Frypan and Gally had slaughter the older pig and cooked him over the big bonfire. Frypan had used the vegetables to make up a stew. You loved that stew and always looked forward to Greenie day. After eating Gally brought a brand new barrel of his homebrew and the boys started drinking. These nights were the best, you all, for just one evening, could forget where you were and the people you'd lost. It was nice. It was a real home.

You look up and see Greenie sitting alone by a log.

Newt came up to you and pulled you against his hard chest.

“Hey.” He whispers into your ear, “what's up?”

You gesture your head to Greenie.

“He could do with a friend.” You say to him. Newt nods, presses a soft kiss to the side of your head and wanders over to the Greenie.

Alby came.over to you and sat beside you.

“What do we think then? Where should we put him?” He has led you. It had always been you and Alby that chose where people went.

“He'd be a good runner but he needs to get a bit dirty first.” You say.

“So with you and Newt then.” Alby says as more of a statement than a question.

Not too far away the normal games started and Gally was sparing with another lad.

Newt dropped down against the log.

“hell of a first day, Greenie.” He laughed.

“Here. Put some hair on your chest.” He handed him the mason jar of liquid. Greenie took a large swing and coughed.

“Oh, my God! What is that?” He laughed.

“I don't even know. It's Gally's recipe. It's a trade secret.” Newt chuckled.

“Yeah, well, he's still an asshole.”

“He saved your life today. Trust me. The maze is a dangerous place.” Newt's eyes tell the story of a frightened little boy.

“We're trapped here, aren't we?” Greenie asked.

“For the moment. But...you see those guys?

There, by the fire?,” he pointed to Minho and the others runners, “Those are the runners.

That guy in the middle there, that's Minho.

He's the Keeper of the Runners. Every morning, when those doors open, they run the maze...mapping it, memorizing it, trying to find a way out.” Newt says proudly.

“How long have they been looking?”

“Three years.” He admits.

“And they haven't found anything?”

“It's a lot easier said than done. Listen. Hear that? It's the maze, changing. It changes

every night.”

“How is that even possible?”

“You can ask the people who put us in here,

if you ever meet the bastards.” He laughs again, “Listen, the truth is… the runners are the only ones who really know what's out there. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too because if they don't make it back before those doors close then they are stuck out there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the maze.” He explained.

“What happens to them?” Greenie asked.

“Well, we call them Grievers. Of course, no one's ever seen one and lived to tell about it.

But they're out there. Right, that's enough

questions for one night. Come on. You're supposed to be the guest of honor.” Newt jumps up to his feet, “Let me show you around. Come on.” the pair start walking back to the camp fire.

“And there we got the builders. They're very good with their hands...but not a lot going on upstairs.” He chuckled. “And then we got Winston… he's the Keeper of the Slicers. And we got two med-jacks, Clint and Jeff.”

He pointed at the two guys sitting close by.

“They spend most of their time bandaging up the slicers.”

“And whose she, why is she the only girl?” Greenie asked pointing his head your way.

“That's y/n we don't know why she's the only girl, but cross her and if she doesn't kill you the tiger will.”

“What if I want to be a runner?” Greenie asked.

“Have you listened to a word I've just said? No one wants to be a runner. And, besides,

you gotta get chosen.” He shrugs.

“Chosen by who?” at that moment the kid Gally was sparing with came tumbling out of the circle and knocked into Greenie.

“What do you say, Greenie? Wanna see what

you're made of?” Gally asked, the firelight making the thin layer of sweat on his forehead glow.

As they start pushing at each other you walk up to the circle. The boys part for you allowing you space. Gally knocks the Greenie to the floor and you see something change in his eyes.

“Thomas. Thomas. Hey! Thomas!” He gets to his feet once more, “I remember my name. I'm Thomas!”

“Thomas!” Alby shouts.

“Welcome home, Thomas.” Newt claps him on the shoulder.

“Good job... Thomas.” Gally smiles shaking his hand.

Next chapter

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe

[youkaigakkou-tl]

I just checked the old and new version of chapter 90 and I’m soooo confused.

Seimei's magic (used by Acchan) can affect everyone from the present (although in previous chapter guys from the present couldn’t affect the past). 

“Byakko doesn't want to show you” -> “Byakko doesn’t know”. Byakko didn’t know about Ranmaru turning Acchan into a youkai. How could he recognize a supposedly-dead-man after 1000 years 🤨 what is the meaning of this change??

Acchan didn't actually do anything special here, it's been established that they can be affected by the recreation, its less like watching a movie and more like you're seeing everything from the adjacent room

(Haru trying to follow bc it looked that much like they were just in the other room)

(And shutendouji mommy appearing caused the room theyre in to shake too)

And connecting to the next bit, regarding the difference between Byakko not wanting to show vs not knowing

In either case, Byakko wouldn't have known about what happened because he wasn't there to see it himself nor would anyone have told him the details. But I'd assume everyone involved figured out the broad strokes at least, that "Suzaku helped Douman escape and turned him into a youkai and Suzaku was exiled"

And regarding whether Byakko wanted to show it, I don't think he wanted to show any of this actually.

(ENTERING DELULU ZONE)

Byakko doesn't have a motive to show them any of it, Sano is an uninvolved party, Ranmaru lived it, and Haruaki as a person just doesn't matter to Byakko, he's just the container for Seimei's soul to him.

He probably trapped them in that dimension to 1. stop Ranmaru from getting away and 2. keep them in a known place that's almost impossible to escape to deal with later

(As for why he didn't do this sooner, I can think of a couple reasons: 1. it's taxing, and he doesn't want to use it unless it's his last resort, 2. he's a showoff and too proud to use it against a bunch of youkai, 3. the target needs to hold pretty still for a bit and Haru is pretty damn fast 4. this is his special ranmaru backrooms)

What's more likely is them getting to see this flashback was a freak accident caused by Seimei or something

Mind you this is how they stumbled into it

And Seimei DOES has a motive for this, however obscure his goals may be. He seems interested in having Haruaki tie up his loose ends, seen with the shutendouji, and knowing what happened in the past is pretty important to working out whatever Douman and Ranmaru are hung up about.

Still, this is just a guess, but Seimei has infinitely more motive to show them that flashback than Byakko does. (In fact, the first scene of it before the four gods get summoned might even be Seimei's memory)

So it's not a matter of "Byakko didn't want to show them this part", it's "Byakko didn't want to show them any part of it, probably isn't even aware they saw the flashback, and physically cannot show them what happened between Douman and Suzaku because he wasn't there to see"

(END OF DELULU ZONE basically i think it was actually seimei using byakkos memories to show them that flashback. how he did this idk)

Anyway why Byakko could recognise Acchan is pretty simple, he looks the same still. And the fact he's the principal is probably fairly widespread knowledge among the gods who care to know about it.

[shini--chan]

May I request a birth scenario for the 2ps. You can do either side first and make 2 separate posts.

There is one ask further up in my ask box asking for the dreaded birth scenario with the 2p axis anyway, so I’ll just be doing the 2p allies for now. Warning for implied non-con, manipulation & coercion. You’re reading this at your own risk.

Yandere 2p! Allies – Dreaded Birth

America

“Not like you have much choice, cupcake”, Allen lazily drawled from his place next to you. He had tidied himself up for the birth, and it was downright surreal to see him in a blue overall with a hairnet and mask. Exhausted as you were from pressing the baby out, you had nearly not recognised him for a moment.

“You are not the mother of that…”, you began weakly only to be cut off by him.

“Yes, I’m the daddy and you are the mommy and you’ll act the part. Taking care of another human being will be good for your mental health. We talked about this sugar. You are just acting like this because you just had a difficult birth and post-partum depression is already setting in. Plus, you’re anxiety is showing again.”

Allen would quickly see what you are up to and would do his best to stamp it out as soon as possible. He would have possible caught on to your true feelings on the matter long before the deliver would have taken place with how you would be more emotional and prone to lash out in the weeks leading up to the event. As such, he would have a plan in mind to deal with you.

Would either take you to a small country hospital or a hippy commune to have the birth. There, he would either know the people very well, letting him be the more credible person in the room, or it would be a group of complete strangers that wouldn’t care about your fate and therefore have no incentive to intervene.

Would likely give you a joint or cannabis tea afterwards to make you calm down. Promises would be made and he would have a serious heart-to-heart conversation with you, doing his best to sway you. If else, the carrot and the stick will have to do.

Canada

Sighing Mark turned to the midwife, asking: “Mind leaving us alone for a minute? I have to have a word with my wife.”

“Please don’t go”, you stated. “I don’t want to be alone with him.”

Cassidy, as she was called, looked uncertain between you and Mark, not knowing who to heed. She probably also sensed that something foul was afoot, having likely been in similar situations before, situations where not everything was as it seem on the surface.

“I had a fight with my honey-buns before the contractions started. With everything that happened today, she is probs more mad at me than she usually would be.”

“Alright. I’ll just be by the door. When you have finished comforting her, not hesitate to shout”, the woman said somewhat hurriedly, and then scurried out of the room. Typical – she just wanted to believe what he had said, because the alternative would be so extremely troubling. Now you were alone with the wolf.

Mark could do his best to construct the situation as just an unfortunate series of events. Though, because he wouldn’t be the most sociable and suave guys, he would likely leave opening that you could easily exploit. Taking with the nurse a bit or some other person witnessing the awkward scenes, and you could have a very willing accomplice that could help you escape and even testify in court.

Aside from that, would sit on your bed and do a long lecture, while holding the baby in his arms. Would chide you of disturbing the sleep of the little one if you would raise your voice and reprimand you for being so heartless as to rejecting such a cute and helpless thing that would suffer dearly without your aid. If it initially wouldn’t work, then he would have the following weeks to convince you.

China

Zao raised a thin eye-brow, a rather emotional gesture for such a stoic man. Or at least, for when he wasn’t under the influence of anything. Ignoring your protests, he shoved the baby in your arms, forcing you to take it unless the small tumbled to the side of the narrow bed you had just given birth in and smash its head open. The midwives had just finished washing the wax off the pliable body and swaddled the boy in blankets. After handing the father his child, they had all filed out doubtlessly in accordance to some preplanned schedule.

This China wouldn’t leave much room for argument. He would ensure that events would be framed to make sure that out of the two of you, you would be viewed as the evil doer. The people around you would offer you a lot of unsolicited advice on child rearing and ensure that would be doing your job of a dutiful mother. Should you fail on doing that, they would be the ones to lecture you and shame you. That could or couldn’t be Zao’s intentions, yet the outcome would be that you would feel the pressure more acutely, since it wouldn’t just be some crazed faux-lover telling you what to do.

It would be one of those circumstances where he would continuously invite people over, just to force you into the role of mother. Other’s would gossip and look down on you if you wouldn’t, after all.

All the time, would act as if you are not protesting against motherhood – shoving the child in your arms, leaving you alone with him and assigning you the role of primary caretaker. He is not going to feed the boy, would you let the kid starve? You know that you could go to jail for child abuse if you’d do so.

England

Oliver giggled softly, bright blue eyes shining.

“What did you say, poppet?”, he asked brightly. His appearance made you step back. He was covered in blood, your blood to be exact, seeing that he had played midwife.

You had hoped that the deliver would have meant that you would have been allowed to see other people. Sadly, he had deftly dashed your hopes by doing the task himself. It shouldn’t have surprised you – the mere notion of you in somebody else’ arms drove him berserk.

“Nothing, dear”, you answered quietly, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

Oliver wouldn’t hesitate to go full batshit insane if you would ruin his dream of a happy little family. He would desire, no require a sweet little life with a darling sweet wife and a cute tyke to be happy, so don’t dare tear that away from him.

If you would insist on being difficult, he would go one of two routs. The first one would be dragging you to his personal torture chamber, disregarding that you just gave birth, and torturing you a few hours. You would only be allowed out every once in a while for a quick clean-up and to breastfeed the child.

Or he could play the long game by turning the child you would hate so much against you. Then he would have an ally in keeping your behaviour in check. Perhaps, that route would be so much to his liking that he would force another child on you and repeat the whole process.

France

Francois carelessly snipped the finished bud of his ciggerette towards the rublish bin. It missed and rolled on the floor, vanishing in an arc behind the bin. Sighing for the untempth time this hour already and looked up at you. You were staring at the craddle with bitter contempt, as if the squeaking child had gravely insulted you. This was slowly going too far. Sure, he had would also be more peeved if he would be bleeding from his genitals for over a month and stretched skin turned into a wrinkly flap of tissue. "It is not as if she tried to kill you so stop trying to set her on fire with your eyes", he tiredly commented. Affairs like this made him even more tired than usual. Maybe there was still some German beer in the fridge to calm his nerves. "And yet she still nearly did", you curtly snip back, all to happy to let out your anger now. Ah yes, there was that. On good days Francois could easily forget that you nearly died during childbirth. Partially, he had been angry at the baby for that, at least in the beginning, however, unlike you, he was a rational person and worked quickly to overcome his misgivings. - Francois' solution would just be to shrug off your responses and wait. Surely you would have only been hysterical at the moment and given a few weeks you would surely calm down. If not, then he would resort to violence - burns and choking and attempts to impregnate you again. - Though, that would only be the case if he would still want the child. If you could argue your case well enough, then he would put the child up for adoption. That would be the outcome anyway, if he would find the child to be too difficult he would give it away, regardless of your feelings on the matter.

Russia

Victor raised his eyebrows in askance and then his expression proceeded to melt into one of mirth. The usually stone expression vanished, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his mouth forming into a smile that had too many teeth. Hiding the lower half of his face inside his signature red scarf, he looked even more sinister. That was when it came to you - his happiness stemmed from giddy anticipation. You had just broke one of the rules in this elaborate game of cat and mouse, you had just given him an exuse to act out his crueller fantasies. Normally, you were more careful, but this time, you had lost it all because you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you for the fraction of a minute. Those red eyes, twinkled down at you as he carefully laid the buddled little babe in your lap. You felt a shiver run down your spin as he patted your messy hair. The gesture would be affectionate, if you didn't know him. Ice gathered in your belly and you found yourself frozen with dread. "I'll keep your words in mind", he said softly, and with that, you knew that you were doomed. - Victor would use this as an excuse to let out his pent up anger and frustration out on you. For a few weeks, you would become his emotion punching bag. Of course, it would be constructed so that you would likely not suffer permanent damage. Emphasise on likely, because that could change very quickly if would provoke him. While standardly a very collected man, when he would already be swimming in anger, he would lose all tolerance for bs. - During that time, he would still have you tend to the child. Your treatment of the little one would determine if your punishment would be extended or shortened as well as the intensity of it. Of course, he wouldn't tell you of this - it would just be more fun for him to have you figure it out yourself. - Such an "event" could occur again and again during the life of your child, depending on your behaviour towards them. Family is something that Victor would take extremely seriously.

[spotsandsocks]

The Lost and The Found update!!

Chapter 6

Eddie Diaz was born a shifter, of the wolf variety, and he loves his life. Visiting his Abuela one summer he meets a new friend but not long after that everything in his life gets turned around and hard choices have to be made. Eddie faces his responsibilities and does what he has to do.

Saying goodbye to his wolf Eddie faces spending the rest of his life alone until Bobby Nash turns up in his life with an invite to join his team and everything changes again.

the start of Chapt 6 under the cut someone's about to see the light

A sleepless night has strangely not brought any clarity of thought. Now that Eddie knows what he thinks he knows he can’t stop thinking about it and looking for confirmation. 

Unfortunately shifters and humans really aren’t that different except once a month unless you’re a shifter of course and then you can smell the difference and as Bobby has pointed out he’s not (anymore) so has lost that advantage. It’s never been more frustrating than it is now. 

On the bright side at least Buck has forgiven him for his solo run and they’re back to normal which is a huge relief. It only took a day for his mood to lift and it’s a relief to have a more cheerful Buck back at his side . Bobby on the other hand keeps looking at him funny, or maybe that’s just his imagination. Eddie may have worked it out but it doesn’t mean Bobby knows he knows or even knows about him. Ok so maybe he suspects something but he can’t know… can he? How  would he? The silver curse hides him completely, that's the point, no one can tell. No one should be able to recognise him for what he once was. He’s certain; Bobby might suspect but he can’t know . Someone would have to have told him and who would tell him? There’s no one who both Bobby and Eddie know, he’s just being paranoid.

Except.

Except Bobby looks at him like he’s waiting for something to happen. Why? What does he want from him? Not knowing is slowly driving him mad. 

Maybe it’s “ a are you ever going to declare your feelings for my son, I demand to know your intentions” kind of f look.  That would be as bad, if not worse than  a “confess you’re an ex- shifter with a terminal case of indecision” look.

He doesn’t think he’s been too obvious about his feelings for Buck so it can’t  really be that.  Unless of course it is?  He can feel his cheeks heating up at the thought, God is he making a fool of himself with his pining.

Eddie really can’t decide which situation would be worse, see terminally indecisive.

Bobby can’t know. 

He can’t. 

But he does. That’s what Eddie’s gut is telling him. It’s the unspoken knowledge of that which is hanging between them.  

So Bobby shouldn’t know about him but he does and speaking of his boss there he is, over on the other side of the station talking to Chim. Maybe he can sense Eddie’s stress levels escalating because his head turns and his eyes find Eddie’s immediately. He gets a nod and hint of a knowing smile before Bobby turns his attention back to Chimney. 

Eddie keeps his eyes on them. He’s also becoming convinced that Bobby knows that he knows about them now. Why can’t Bobby say something to him then? 

But then again , why can’t he? Why is his secret trapped inside him?

What difference would it make now? Why can’t he trust his Captain with his secret, after all he trusts him everyday with his life.

Eddie sighs, hiding what he is, was, for so long has left more of a scar on him than he thought. He’d been so worried all that time in the army that he’d be discovered. Get kicked out, shamed, disgraced and court martialed. Lose the only source of income he had for his family. It’s harder to move past that than he wants it to be. 

He is tempted. He would like to confide in someone, let his secret out after all this time but if he does he'll have to make other choices he’s not ready for. It’s a lot to think about. He lets himself lean against the truck for a moment mentally chastising himself to just decide. All this thinking is exhausting.

It’s particularly emotional challenging thinking about blue eyes. He’s been thinking about them a lot. 

Watching from the firetruck his own much darker eyes track Buck as he practically skips across the room to bound up behind his Captain who’s talking to Chim. Buck flings his arms around his dad’s shoulders, (Eddie can’t help thinking of Bobby as his dad now even though he had no proof of that at all. It’s hardly his fault if that’s how they act all the time) Buck wraps himself there in half a hug to join the conversation. 

Eddie feels like an idiot. They’re so clearly a family pack. Why didn’t he see it before? 

Eddie watches and he can just imagine how Buck's blue eyes are already drifting as his attention span fails him. He waits for them to shift his way and when they do he smiles back instantly, it’s never a choice to return Buck’s smile with his whole heart.

Lost once again in blue skys or maybe it’s ocean waves Eddie hit by a fierce wave of deja vu. It’s not a surprise really he’s been looking into blue eyes that shade for a long time now. 

A question hits him, rather ironically he realizes later, out of the blue. How long exactly has he been looking into those particular blue eyes?

[thunderboltfire]

Heya,

what are your OCs' quirks, or habits, special interests, or obsessions, perhaps without them even realising? Something that would make everybody else besides them go, "Uh, weird, but okay"?

Thanks for the ask! :)

As far as the Isaldian crew goes, they have tics, habits and quirks galore, but many of them are a result of past events, and others the results or their upbringing, or professions. However most of them aren't something big enough to draw attention.

The weirdest thing probably would be Igna and Argo's starbound rider-related approach to horses. Starbound riders have a sort of a telepathic bond with their horses, and considering their horses themselves are very clever magical beasts with a mind of their own, they tend to have a somewhat weird approach to them, it may seem a little obsessive at times. They often view their horse as an extension of themselves, which means they are very protective over them and invested in their wellbeing. The two starbound riders present in the story have developed a number of habits that from an outside perspective are at best irresponsible, and at worst seem like some kind of equine-induced delusion.

It makes more sense when You realise they have to deal with an intelligent, almost-sentient animal that can teleport at will. If Aquila or Signae really wants to do something, a stupid halter or a fence won't stop them anyway.

I imagine Signae, being a completely unrestrictable stallion, is an absolute favourite of all kinds of stablemasters.

Hobbies, however are a more difficult question, because I feel like most of my Isaldian OCs don't have too many pasttimes that have purely entertainment value and no practical application, let alone weird ones, unless maybe some of them may seem weird or in contrast to their usual occupation. Many of them have a rather limited baggage space, so there's not much room for additional tools, resources etc.

Igna embroiders, which is something of an extension of her rudimentary crafsmanship and repair skills she uses to maintain and sometimes craft pieces of her equipment. It really developed into something akln to a hobby during her stay in Wirjenów. Interestingly, she wasn't the only one who kept her hands busy this way. Persi, her colleague known from being the only tall redhead among the Kestrels, made probably even bigger contribution to the group's banner than her.

Argo is an hunter. It's a somewhat useful hobby, especially in winter, but also not at all surprising for a knight, as it's traditionally considered to be a way of training and keeping one's martial skillset sharp in the time of peace. What could be considered his special interest is falconry, he knows quite a lot about the technical side of it, easily recognises birds of prey by silhouettes and calls and knows his way around them. Northern elves train various species of birds to do their bidding, from birds of prey to corvids, so he had a lot of contact with them from a young age. It's safe to say though, he has no way to practice it in his way of work.

Everybody agreed that the banner turned out very pretty and the kestrel looks extremely lifelike.

He's also very particular about the type and feathering of his arrows, and usually if he has the opportunity he puts them together himself.

Daen is an alchemist, but he's concerned mainly with the medical application of it. At some point of his life he probably has had a big garden, he's good at things demanding a lot of patience.

As for his habits, he's a little bit of a neat freak. He really hates to stay dirty throughout longer periods of time, and washes his hands very often.

Theria doesn't have a hobby, and she definitely could use one. Haart has a creative mind, but he doesn't have an opportunity to spread his wings. He keeps a tiny sketchbook, though.

You know who has a special interest bordering on an obsession? Yrreth. One of his better traits is that he's extremely curious and investigative, chasing every possible clue that can bring him more understanding of the nature of magic and he's very much convinced that he knows enough about the rules of it that he can either circumvent them or break them and bear the consequences. His purely theoretical groundwork could benefit a lot of magic users. If he wasn't also a warlord, primarily invested in furthering his private agenda and prioritising the future of his people to the detriment of everyone else, that is.

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x reader

Part 4!! Part 3 is linked here. This whole series is just smut central, so yeah you already know to expect 18+ content below the cut 😈

Jenny finds herself deeper into Ron Speirs than what she originally believed. After two weeks more had passed, they’re sneaking around has become more frequent. But things are starting to change, the dynamic isn’t what Jenny originally thought. This was meant to be angst but it turned into smut, sorry- the next chapter will be angst I PROMISE.

May 30th, 1945:

The days in Austria as an occupational force were spent drinking, doing the occasional patrol, and your CO’s finding you odd jobs to prevent you from turning into a nut case. It all sounds very uninteresting, unless you had a tall, broodingly handsome commanding officer as a distraction from it all.

In the weeks I’d known Ron they were filled with the most dirtiest sex I’d ever had. He was rough, he had stamina like no other and he actually knew how to satisfy a woman. Our hook ups were still kept on the down low, taking place almost anywhere and anytime apart from either of our bedrooms. The level of intimacy was yet to upgrade into there, for a reason I wasn’t too sure about.

Most of the time we’d do our business and move onto wherever else we needed to be. The conversations had been sparse, and after he’d leave I found myself longing for more from him. I knew it wasn’t a good sign, and I should’ve checked myself out of the situation, but he was Ron Speirs- I was so deeply attracted to him that even if I tried I couldn’t stop myself lingering towards him. His kisses were always so deep and passionate, and he’d never without fail make me cum before he did himself. The one time he’d finished before I did he’d apologised and then progressed to perform the best oral sex on me I’d ever experienced. God, the highs with Speirs was unbeatable, what I’d do to have ten more minutes with him right n-

“Battalion HQ won’t accept them cos they’re all scrunched up. God knows what you’re doing in your free time for them to look like this.” A hand splattered down a pile of half messed up papers, my eyes widened at the sight knowing exactly why they were that way. Nixon stood above me with a playful expression on his face, he looked borderline smug at his joke. “Not what you’re thinkin’, Nix.” My eyes narrowed, pulling the papers back towards me. They were the reports from all the men’s physical examinations, the time when Ron screwed me on my desk. On the papers…

“They want you to write them out again, sorry I know, massively annoying, but you know how much of a buzzkill they all are up there.” A smile grew to my face at Lew’s general distaste for many things in life. Many could view him as a pessimist, but he just had a super good sense of humour. Well, most of the time. “It’s fine, Lew. I’ll get them done in the next hour.” My hands reached out to grab the messed up papers. They weren’t that bad, HQ just had to be annoying, didn’t they? Whilst many of the other nurses were out enjoying the beginning of an Austrian summer, Mary and I were cooped up inside, finishing papers, studying or, examining men. It was my job, I wasn’t complaining but I just suffered a mass case of FOMO.

The door swung open again, Captain Speirs, as expected, 1600 hours, sharp. My gaze averted from Lewis to my CO, lips tugging in the corners. “Afternoon, sir.” I greeted once Mary and Lewis had said their greetings. “Afternoon.” He nodded in my direction, eyes dropping down to the papers in front of me. With one quick glimpse he shot me a funny look before turning back to Nixon, with news about war in the Pacific. I wondered if he recognised the papers? Or if he’d even noticed at the time what we’d done, probably not/m- but Ron always recognised detail, that’s something I’d grown to learn about him. The memory of these papers was still raw on my mind, I hoped the same for him. After another 45 minutes or so, Lewis had left and there was just the three of us filling in our work in silence. I was growing increasingly frustrated, not because of the papers, but how much I couldn’t stop thinking about Speirs moving across his desk and over to mine and messing them up all over again. If we were sat next to one another I could’ve easily slipped my hand under the table and teased him through his uniform trousers. My legs were tensing and I found myself crossing them to rid some of the tension I needed. It only provided me with the smallest amount of friction, but at least it was something. Sighing, I continued writing out the last of my papers, seeing there was about four more to go. “I’ve finished, thank god!” Mary then cried out causing me to jump slightly as I looked back over to her in jealousy. “You better be done soon.” She pointed to me. “Thank you, sir.” With a firm salute, she exited the room all together, the door gently closing behind her. I watched as she made her way down the hallway and vanished, before reappearing walking past the slit in half open curtain, all giddy and happy to be done. With just the two of us there grew a new found tension. It’s as though we expected this to happen, being alone was rare, so I’d take anything I could get. My desk was open at the bottom, facing across from where Ron was. My eyes lingered over the focused man once before dropping my legs slightly forwards, nudging my feet together and dragging one foot over the other. My movements caused his writing to still as he glanced up, to which I looked away teasingly. I hadn’t done any paper work for the past 5 minutes, I was in my own world, when Ron finally said something. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Aren't you supposed to be fucking me already.

“Mmmmh, yes sir but I can’t focus.” I stared directly at the ink I dripped back into the pot. “Well, you don’t look like you have much more to go. Keep writing.” He instructed as I pursed my lips, biting the inside of my cheek as I reluctantly went back to doing my work. I could feel his eyes on me, burning holes into my legs, my bare legs. I wasn’t wearing any stocking or tights, I opted out seeing as it was hot today. Maybe he was wondering what else I wasn’t wearing? Sighing again, I began scribbling down the numbers, copying them from the other sheets without fault. There was a movement across from me, Speirs had stood up now, lowering the blinds from behind him to close fully, before making his way over to the door and pulling the blind shut on there. I remained unfocused on my work, watching him when his back was turned to me, when he did make his way over I squeezed my legs together once again and dropped my head back down to conceal my smile. “Keep writing- there was a glare, that’s all.” He’d closed the blinds behind me, slowly. Painfully slowly. It’s like he was watching over what I was doing, and when he stalked up behind me I felt his hand slip onto the back of my chair. “You’ve got through that quick enough.” He pointed out as I dropped my pen. “I’m on my last two.” Gazing up to him, I could tell there was an ulterior motive behind his eyes. ‘There was a glare’, okay Ron. “Good, keep going with them.” He instructed as I awkwardly moved back up to reach for my pen. As I did, I felt his hand smooth over the inner of my shoulder, thumb brushing over my bare skin as my eyes closed and I inhaled, taking in the relief of his touch. I had my white nursing dress on, better fit for this weather than the wool of my blue uniform or the khaki ones. It was thin, floaty, I much preferred it, but it meant now Ron’s touch was something I was even more sensitive to.

As his hands glided back and fourth over my shoulders, he began to slip them down to undo the top buttons on my dress. My focus was out of the window now. “Why did you stop?” Ron’s movements fell flat, waiting for me to resume my work. Oh, so he wants to play that game. Slowly, I picked my pen back up again, dipping it in the ink and cautiously writing out the numbers and names. Shit- I couldn’t write when his hands were now unbuttoning more of my dress. One of his hands snuck down the shirt part of my dress, groping at my tits, squeezing and rolling his thumb over the softness of the exposed skin. My jaw clenched, hesitating to write the next number as he nudged the fabric of my lace bralet out of the way.

Now, he took his fingers, brushing it over the sensitivity of my nipple. This really got me aching for him, shivers ran down my spine as I exhaled out, my legs pushing together as I circled my hips by habit. Ron’s fingers nipped ever so gently over my nipple, before moving onto the next one. Oh god. In order to impress him in this game he had going on, I continued writing as hard as it was. The way his fingers were pinching and stroking over my nipples, grabbing handfuls like he couldn’t get enough, it drove me crazy- he drove me crazy. “Can you be good and finish these papers for me?” Leaning closer, he crouched down to my level, lips dangerously close to my ear. “Yeah.” I sighed out. “No. Yes who?” His words made me want to moan out loud there and then. “Yes, Captain Speirs.” He pressed a kiss as a rewards to my cheek, the writing becoming impossibly difficult when he started kissing at my neck. His fingers moved up to my mouth, indicating he wanted me to wet them as I sucked obediently, humming out a pathetic whine. “Take your panties off.” He muttered, again, I did as I was told and stripped them down, handing them over as he shoved them in his pocket. Oh my fucking god. His fingers were back in my mouth as I sucked obediently, other hand still groping my breast. “When you finish this I’ll give you what you need.” He muttered into my ear, holding my jaw firmly now. “Mmmh, sir-“ I attempted to protest but he left me cold, marching back over to his table. Fuck, what was he doing to me. After the next few minutes had passed, I found myself grinding into my chair, looking him with pitiful eyes as I poured out a moan. When I’d scribbled the rest of the numbers down and added it to the complete pile, I was half expecting him to come storming over. But he didn’t. Sighing, I took my hand down and began hitching up my dress. Speirs too had stopped writing as he watched me with a mesmerised look. The second my fingers touched my dripping core I let out a soft breath in relief. Slowly, I played with myself in front of him. I watched as one of his hands disappeared under the table, only turning me on further. Fuck he was touching himself- and I needed to see. Spreading my legs wider, I slipped in one finger with a moan, my head falling back. The scraping of his chair didn’t stop me, in fact it only made me want to carry on. Retrieving me, he literally picked me up and set me back down on his lap, behind his desk, ass on his bulging crotch as he propped up my legs, forcing my shoes off as I spread them, feet on either of his knees. “Show me what you were doing.” He instructed, one hand planted firmly over my tit, the other hooked around my waist as his chin rested on my shoulder. I let out a shy giggle as he kissed me jaw tenderly. “Show me, Jenny.” Oh fuck. The first time he’d used my name, and it sounded so good coming from his lips. His larger hand smoothed over mine, brushing it down my body and guiding me to touch myself once again. Slowly, my movements returned, aided with his hand as he watched. My hips ground back against his, ass digging further into his cock. “Grind like that back into me. Good girl.” He hummed as I let out a gentle moan, head dropping back against his as he nuzzled his face against me closer.

His hand continued pushing mine to rub over myself, before leaving me to my own work and instead gripping my hip and guiding me into him. As my pleasure increased, I could feel Ron pushing himself up into me, borderline dry humping me as I panted out, keeping my whines to a minimum seeing as we weren’t exactly in private.

“Sir, I’m gon-“

“Ron.” He corrected, strained as I felt a twinge in my heart. “What?” I whispered as he breathlessly shuddered out, “call me Ron.” The somewhat vulnerability of his tone made me cry out gently as the coil in my stomach became tighter and tighter. Just as I was about to release, Ron let out a shuddered groan, his body jittering as my eyes widened realising what had happened. Before I could process, I was tipping over the edge, gripping his hand tighter and tighter. a

“Ron.” I gasped out, voice strained until I felt my pleasure become overwhelming and I came crashing down into a leg shaking orgasm. I was a panting and jittering mess by the end of it. Fuck, it was good, he was so good, and I couldn’t quite believe it when I realised I’d made him finish inside of his pants.

I let out a hum, attempting to move but Ron tugged me back in, sighing against my shoulder as he nested his face close to mine. For a second I didn’t know how to act, he was physically cuddling me. My hand smoothed over his arm, relaxed and satisfied by the position. My feet had fallen from his his knees now, resting close together due to the sensitivity between my legs.

“Did you finish the papers?” Ron was the first to speak, thumb grazing over my hip as I hummed. “Yeah.” I whispered. “Sorry, I distracted you.” The softness of his words were making my stomach erupt with butterflies, my chest was on fire yet I felt so at ease in his arms. Panicking, I realised my feelings for Ron were a lot stronger than I initially realised. Fuckkkk.

“It’s okay… it was worth it.” I gently smiled hearing him let out a gentle laugh. Deciding to push myself off, his hand was cautious to gaze off me as he was looking at me with a funny kinda expression, hand covering the stain he’d made in his trousers.

“What?” I whispered, brows raising a little as I pulled my bra back over my tits and slowly redid the buttons on my top. “Nothin’.” Ron shook his head as I shot him another smile before turning back down to my dress. “Just your dress..” he muttered out, in a low muffled kinda tone as I smoothed my hands over it worriedly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“No, it looks good. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Oh. “Thanks.” I shyly smiled, brushing it back down to smooth out the creases. “Um… my underwear.” I awkwardly spoke. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He let out a small laugh, retrieving them from his pocket as I tugged them back on with a giggle.

“Oh, and Jen?” The nickname almost made me throw up from the mixture of emotions. “Yeah?” My voice was light and airy, shocked by his kind words.

“Im kinda gonna need your help with… this.”

“Oh, shit- I mean, sorry yeah.” My face was burning up knowing what he was talking about. The stain on his pants wasn’t easy concealable, I’d had to retrieve him a new pair of trousers from the room he bunked in. He got one of the nicest rooms, of course, but it was astonishing, fit for the needs of a king. I fell asleep that night with more than enough thoughts whirling around in my mind. The nickname he had for me, calling me by my name- asking me to call him his name. It all felt so very intimate and vulnerable. Whilst the sex remained outright dirty, there was a softer edge to Ronald Speirs that I thought I might be becoming to like a little too much…

[traayaa]

Mushy May - Day Four

Love at first sight - Mountain and Rain

It's 1am. I don't know what happened. I didn't know what I wanted to do and then all of a sudden, here we are. They/Them Rain because I can.

Word count: 778

After a long day working in his greenhouse, Mountain wanted a chance to relax after a hard day. He wasn’t ready to return to the insanity that was no doubt waiting for him down in the den. Swiss and Dew had been butting heads, both trying to figure out the new pack dynamics and both had made it their mission to piss the other off as much as they could. He felt bad that Aether and Cirrus would be left to take care of it all, but he was exhausted. Tired from his day, tired from the lack of sleep Dew and Swiss were causing, tired of mediating all day, he couldn’t even get peace in the greenhouses that were usually a safe haven for him. 

The lake was close by, and the light at sunset was beautiful down there, one of his favourite things to watch. He’d ventured down and got himself situated on the dock, watching the water ripple, a ripple caused by a water ghoul. It made him think of Mist and her antics in the lake. She’d dragged Mountain in on a number of occasions, both laughing while they floated around on the surface, enjoying the quiet of the lake. Mist was the one that insisted he joined her at sunset, constantly telling him about the beautiful sight and what it looked like reflected on the water. It sent an ache to his heart, she was as sweet as she was fiery and so caring. But it wasn’t her, his friend would never make the water ripple, never drag him off the dock and into the cool waters below. Mist would never again sow chaos on the abbey grounds. She had taken Dew under her wing, teaching him all of her tips and tricks on the bass but also, teaching the little gremlin her chaotic ways. It was hard not to see her in the little ghoul.

Mountain could almost make out the shape just underneath the surface, watching him, assessing, and deciding if Mountain were a friend or foe, or possibly even a snack. He would wait for the ghoul to make themself known, he could be patient, a trait well known amongst earth ghouls. Either the shy ghoul would poke their head out or Mountain would eventually leave, maybe return again another day and see if they would say hello and introduce themself. Mount lay back on the dock, stretching his long limbs out and looking up at the sky, enjoying the end of the day. The sky was splattered with different shades of oranges and pinks, it almost liked like a painting. As he sat back up, Mountain noticed the head of the water ghoul that had been watching him disappear back under the water.

“You don’t have to hide from me, I won’t bite… well, not unless you ask nicely. But I can leave if you wish me to, or you could join me up here so I could introduce myself.” He waited, watching the last spot he’d seen the other ghoul. As he was about to stand up to leave, he saw the other’s head break the surface, just enough so that a pair of stunning cerulean eyes were above the water. Mountain smiled, inviting the other to join him on the dock. Cautiously the ghoul, who Mountain recognised as the new bassist, Rain, inched his way out of the water.

As they effortlessly lifted themself out of the water and onto the edge of the dock, Mountain couldn’t help but stare. Short horns, that looked almost like sea glass only just visible through the messy tangle of wet curls, a few strands stuck to their face, those piercing cerulean eyes surrounded by long lashes, a sharp fang barely visible between lush lips. The long, lean body of the water ghoul was deceptive, looking at them one might underestimate the hidden strength of the lean muscle underneath, but Mountain knew, there was little on Earth or in the pit that could rival a water ghoul in their natural environment. The pattern of blues on their fins was captivating, something Mountain could look at forever. Tearing his gaze from the form in front of him, Mountains eyes made their way back up to meet the gaze of Rain. A pair of eyes one could get lost in for the rest of time. 

Mountain thinks he’s in love with the painfully shy water ghoul in front of him. The very same water ghoul that was part of his pack and the band. He was in deep, he realised, a goofy grin appearing on his face, one that the water ghoul returned.

[keijoikawa]

there’s the soft pitter patter of rain on the hotel room’s window; it’s odd and not often seen on the planet of festivities. with narrowed eyes watching the tracks that drops of rain make as they run down the window, aventurine wonders if it’s pathetic fallacy of the brunette curled up into his side or even worse, foreshadowing.

shaking his head, his eyes soften as he turns his gaze down to her. she’s remained quiet since they settled down an hour ago and he wishes he could hear what she was thinking, even if just for a moment. with a small noise, he rubs her shoulder to catch her attention. she’s sleepy, eyes half open as she tilts her head up to meet his eyes and he can’t help but smile— how didn’t he run out of all the luck in the cosmos when he snagged her?

“what are you thinking about, little bunny?” he murmurs quietly and she hums, shifting closer into his side as if she could - she’s already as close as possible. as if noticing this, aventurine’s bare hands guide her hips onto his lap, letting her tuck her head into his neck. for a moment he considers facing the consequences of backing out of the mission. would it kill him as much as leaving her would? he assumes not.

“i’m gonna miss you,” alexi mumbles finally, bumping her cold nose against his neck. aventurine finds it in him to chuckle despite the way her words tear apart his heart, “you’ll come back for me, won’t you?”

the blond goes quiet, drowning in regretful thoughts. he hadn’t told her half of what this mission really entailed, he’d merely stated that he was going away. it wasn’t a lie - he was leaving the penacony fabricated by the family, chasing after the real penacony but aventurine knew there could be a chance he doesn’t turn back. he knows there’s a chance the left side of her bed will remain empty in the dreamscape, that she’ll come back to reality with a mind full of anxiety. he knows that for the whole ordeal that aventurine collar around her neck won’t move a muscle, not unclasped once; not unless he does it for her and with him not around, she’ll refuse to take it off.

“of course i will, princess,” he finally speaks, noticing that dark blue eyes are looking up at him in worry. they glitter upon getting a response from him, “there’s a… good friend of mine currently staying on penacony that i’ve contacted in regards to keeping an eye on you until i get back so.. behave for him, okay?”

alexi nods enthusiastically but he notes how she’s fidgeting slightly, her pulse racing while his thumb drifts over her wrist. their last moment together is almost up, the clock on the wall ticking loudly in their ears as a constant reminder. aventurine curses himself mentally. she’s scared.

suddenly the brunette raises his left hand with hers, palms pressed together and aventurine furrows his brows in confusion. it wasn’t uncommon for alexi to compare their hand sizes but this wasn’t the circumstances he assumed she’d do it under, that is until her quiet voice speaks out into the hotel room.

“may the mother goddess thrice close her eyes for you,” she whispers, a sparkle in her eyes that unmistakeably are recognised as the sting of tears as aventurine’s brightly coloured eyes widen, “keeping your blood eternally pulsing.”

aventurine’s breath catches in his throat, quickly leaning forward to press his lips to hers desperately. he refuses to part their palms, his other hand gripping her hip as he tries to pull her closer— no, his luck must have run out getting someone like her, finally. the girl makes a small noise of surprise, their noses nudging each other when aventurine gets too desperate to convey just how much he loves her. he’s running out of time.

after a few seconds that leave them both lost for breath, he pulls back just the slightest, his lips still ghosting hers as he speaks, hot breath mixing with her pants for air, “may your journey be forever peaceful and your schemes forever concealed.”

despite the way tears are threatening to spill from deep sea blue eyes, alexi smiles a little, lacing the fingers of their pressed-togeher hands as she presses another kiss to his lips, less desperate and needy than his initial kiss.

when aventurine first took up this mission from diamond, he wanted an opportunity to cut free from past shackles and the ipc. he couldn’t have cared less if he returned or not, whether he was successful or not. he wanted the aventurine cornerstone’s light to die, to have some control of his life for once.

but he realises now that he does care if he returns or not. he may want to see the aventurine cornerstone dim but he will never want to see the light dim in her eyes; never want to see the day her collar comes off or see her put down his poker chip, the very one she carries everywhere with her as a good luck charm. because the more he thinks about it, that collar - and very much the young girl wearing it - are more important than his cornerstone will ever be to him.

he will return. he has to return. in the meantime, he can only pray to gaiathra triclops that she holds on for him - and that the doctor keeps his promise to take care of her in his stead.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Red-Headed League pt 3

Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and grotesque.

Still don't know whether the plot is clear to me because I'm writing it from my comfortable position in the 21st century having seen a lot of fictional cons like it, or whether ACD deliberately makes Watson unable to put together the clues to make Holmes look better in comparison and to make the reader feel really smart. Probably a bit of both.

On entering his room I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frock-coat.

'official police agent' is a strange way of putting it, but sure. Also, not quite so rude a description as the past few times, but 'sad-faced' strikes me. Also, the fact that Watson feels the need to point out the shininess off his hat. Is this just Holmes' love of observing details and Watson's attempts to emulate him showing up, or is the hat literally so shiny Watson couldn't help but mention it? Can he see his own face in it.

Also love the detail of the 'oppressively respectable frock-coat.' With Watson you need to walk a fine line of being just respectable enough, but not overly respectable. The full description of Mr Merryweather (ironically named, it seems) puts me in mind of a Tim Burton film. He's got a very gothic caricature vibe.

"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in his consequential way.

It's a double date! How fun.

"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," observed Mr Merryweather gloomily.

Live footage of Mr Merryweather trying to retrieve the keys to the bank in time to get to his rubber.

"...he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than the official force."

Your standard 'oh he's an amateur but he does okay, I suppose. And damning with faint praise here 'been more nearly correct than the official force'. I tried to parse that out and the best I can come to is that neither Holmes nor the police was right about the case, but Holmes was less incorrect than the police. Like if they were playing Cluedo and Holmes got the room right and the weapon right, but the police only got the right room. I assume this is a lie and Holmes was actually wholly correct (but maybe didn't catch the criminal as we know he doesn't always bother with this bit...

...unless Holmes as secret sea demigod who is causing shipwrecks just to bring criminals to justice?)

Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had my rubber.

I know this means Bridge. I know it does. And yet... it still seems like an innuendo. No wonder Mr Merryweather is so down if he's missing his rubber for this.

"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger."

Please note how nowhere in that list does it say confidence trickster, fraudster or any kind of grifter. I refuse to believe he is any good at that, for all they are trying to convince me he is a criminal mastermind. Clearly in this con he had to be the front man because the red-headed man had to be at the league, and they were lucky that Mr Wilson was as gullible as he was. Because genuinely 'Victor Spalding' is The Most Suspicious.

He's a remarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford.

Really not that remarkable. Go to the houses of parliament and throw a brick and you'll hit someone answering to pretty much exactly that description. Especially in this era. Sure, Duke is the highest rank of nobility, fi-i-ine, some of them are only related to marquises, earls, viscounts or barons and sometimes it's only by marriage. But seriously. An Eton educated child of aristocracy? It would be more remarkable if he wasn't Eton educated. Oxford, you say? How unusual! Practically unheard of!

There is the indication that he's illegitimate, so it's a little more remarkable, but still not very. I have a sneaking suspicion that there were a lot of illegitimate children of aristocracy running around London at the time, too. The peers of the realm were not well known for keeping it in their pants.

Basically the man is nothing special and I refuse to acknowledge him as such.

"He is not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone."

Ah, it's Holmes' turn to be rude. He does tend to leave it for the police. I love how this essentially boils down to 'He's an idiot, but we've done the hard bit, so all we really need him to do is grab the guy'.

"I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!" said Holmes severely. "You have already imperilled the whole success of our expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?"

Really, Mr Merryweather! It's the naughty corner for you. Sit in the corner and think about what you have done. Tut tut.

Holmes does save up his insults for abusers and people who disrupt investigations.

"We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources and borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France."

Six of which will mysteriously turn up at a later date. 😄

The crate upon which I sit contains 2,000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil.

The naughty corner is a lot shinier than I remember it being.

OMG... The reason his hat is so shiny! His hat is made of gold. He's already stolen some of the napoleons and melted them down to make a hat.

Sorry, I've been in a car half the day and it's been a weird week. My mind is in a very strange place rn.

If they fire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down.

Feel free to murder, bestie. Totally fine. According to this piece of paper in my pocket, I can absolutely give you permission to do that.

The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes's hunting crop came down on the man's wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.

Drop it!

The entire set up of this scene is very dramatic. Watson's description of the wait and hearing everyone's breathing, then the sudden action. It's very good. I could have quoted a lot of it, but that would have just been a massive chunk of writing. This story as a whole is a lot more dramatic and active than many of the others. So far we've rarely had Holmes and Watson face the villain like this. There have been a couple of times where they've had conversations. In the Reigate Squires, Holmes was attacked by them off screen and the reader and Watson come upon it later. Oh, and Holmes chases Mary Sutherland's dick of a step-father out of the house, but often there is no confrontation.

This is very satisfying.

Also - bank robbery of French gold. It's just such a satisfying and clean motive as well.

"I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands," remarked our prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. "You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, also, when you address me always to say 'sir' and 'please.'"

If I had any respect for the man, I would have lost it here. Seriously? Pompous ass. Yeah, yeah, your grandad was a duke. Find me literally anyone who gives a fuck other than you... go on, I'll wait.

"Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a mere vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question."

His fourteen year old maidservant is very pleased about this. As am I.

Holmes gives a very thorough detailing of every clue and indication. I did miss the bit where he tapped his cane on the ground.

"It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas! I already feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplaces of existence."

Mood.

Nice to have a story with a definitive resolution where the bad guys are caught, the good guys emerge victorious and the only real downside is that Mr Wilson has to fill in a bloody great hole in his cellar. No convenient shipwrecks. No 'well, we can't really do anything about it because technically nothing illegal has happened'. Just a good old fashioned bank robbery foiled by an ambush. Yes. Very satisfying.