#a haunting matter indeed

[thegamingcatmom]

Y´know-

I´ve been thinking today.

MC´s got these dope nicknames for the sisters, right?

At some point, she´s probs gonna let one of them slip, totally lost in thought and just going with how she´s been calling them in her head. It´s an automatic response.

...

Cue three very confused sisters.

Naturally, it sparks a(n awkward) convo where MC reveals that, yeah-

MC: *points to Tanya*

MC: "She-Devil."

Tanya, smug af: 😈(❤️‍🔥)

MC: *points to Irina*

MC: "Dreadful Red"

Irina, sorry af: 😖 (she´s at a stage where she actually likes MC and feels horrible for scaring the crap out of her when they´d only just met...and all the weeks/months that followed)

...

Kate: 🤨 "...What about me??"

Tanya & Irina, curious as well: 👀

MC: "..."

Kate: 😏 "I bet it´s something spicy, huh?"

MC: "..."

Kate: 💪😌 "Or maybe something that captures all that muscle?"

MC: "..."

Kate: 😁"No wait! Maybe something with fangs?? Something dangerous, y´know?"

MC: "..."

Kate, getting impatient: "...Well??"

Tanya & Irina: 👀

MC: *coughs to buy herself some time cause fck that´s gonna be awkward as hell*

Tanya & Irina & Kate: 👀

MC: "...Furred Boots."

Tanya & Irina & Kate: "..."

MC: "..."

Kate: "...You´re shitting me, right?"

MC: "..."

Kate: *throws her sisters a disbelieving look*

Tanya & Irina:

KATE MY POOR BABY AM SORRY (am not). 😭

[arolesbianism]

Funn oddity, both Ellie and Travaldo have the last name Jones. Idk if they're siblings or if it's just a coincidence, but a fun thing nonetheless

[nebulaafterdark]

Blood & Cheese (Pt. 1)

Summary: After the events of Blood and Cheese, Rhaenyra’s daughter returns to King’s Landing in hopes of speaking to her childhood companion. Based off this request.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI

Targcest, mentions of death, loss of virginity

Y/N and Aegon never had an ordinary relationship. They grew up together, they loved each other, knowing all the while they could not marry.

Aegon is promised to Helaena. He marries her, performs his duty, though he loves her as a sister and nothing more.

Y/N does not wed. Rhaenyra is in no hurry to marry off her only daughter.

Years pass, Y/N visits Aegon and Helaena often. Watching their children grow. Twins named Jaehaera and Jaehaerys.

“He looks like you,” Y/N muses, holding his sweet boy.

Aegon smiles, wistfully. Stroking a hand over the back of his son’s hair as he stares at her. What might our children have looked like? He kisses her cheek, “indeed.”

Y/N and Helaena understand each other well enough. Helaena loves Aegon as a brother and nothing more.

Helaena tells her, “I find myself happiest when you are near, as does he.”

Y/N holds her hand out, hoping the other woman will take it. “I should like to be here more, help with the children.”

“Aemond would wed you.” Helaena says, as if the offer is no more complex than the color of the sky. “He likes you well enough and has no qualms about your feelings for Aegon.”

That was before he killed Lucerys. A distant dream now. Y/N makes her way into the castle as servants hustle about.

“The King and Queen have lost their only son.”

Y/N finds the children’s apartments undetected; unable to believe what she has heard until she sees….one bed instead of two.

The door jostles open and someone steps inside, muttering to themselves. A voice Y/N knows well, she waits, huddled in the corner, until she can be certain they are alone.

“Helaena,” her name is whispered from the shadows, as she paces her children’s chamber.

She’s seen nothing of Aegon since the incident, she has been largely alone. Her mother and husband focus largely on finding the men responsible. Helaena knows it will change nothing. Instead she clutches the throw blanket embroidered for her son.

“Helaena,” the voice sounds, again. Y/N creeps out of the corner. Her eyes wide and haunted.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“I am so sorry for what’s happened.”

“You are always sorry.” In visions of her and when she stands before her. “Must be an awful way to live.”

Y/N swallows hard, “it is.”

“You are my brother’s only love…I believe he is yours. He’s often down at the pleasure house…wanting for you. You return to him like this? Now?”

Y/N assures her. “I wish only to see him.”

“I will not begrudge you happiness, nor him. But I’ve no wish to remarry, and I’ll have no more children. You might give him a son.” Helaena says.

“I did not come here to bed him, I came here tell him-”

Helaena’s eyes find Aegon’s. Whatever Y/N came here to do matters little now.

“You,” he sneers, approaching Y/N at a pace that sends Helaena scurrying from the room. “One wasn’t enough for you? You had to come yourself to finish the job?” Aegon takes Y/N’s face in his hands so harshly her jaw aches.

“No,” Y/N shakes her head.

“By raven, you might have contacted me.” His wide, mad eyes search hers.

“I thought it best to see you,” Y/N stammers, “so we might talk about this, the way we always have.”

“What is there to talk about?” Aegon scoffs, “my son is my legacy! My son is heir to the throne!”

“From the depths of my soul, I am sorry.” Y/N tells him.

“I never wanted this, I never wanted to marry Helaena, I never wanted to be King. I wanted to marry you, but I love my children. I wanted this to be peaceful and now it cannot be because your mother has killed my child. My sister is distraught, I am distraught.” Aegon pulls himself away, fighting for composure.

“That is why I’ve come.” Y/N tells him, “my mother did not order this, it was Daemon.”

Aegon runs a hand over his face, “so that fixes everything?”

“It doesn’t,” Y/N admits, “I know that much, but if we could stop this war-”

Aegon laughs, low and menacing. “I do not want to stop this war. I intend to fight it.”

“Aegon,” she breathes.

“Will you stand at my side or against me?”

“I have no wish to stand against you. Especially now, after all you have lost. But I would not know my place here.”

“Your place is with me.” Aegon insists.

“But Alicent-”

“I am the king. She made it so,” Aegon reminds her. “I love my mother, sister, and house. I will not abandon Helaena in this.”

“Of course not,” Y/N nods.

“Still you could���” Aegon moves back toward her, “be my wife. My second wife. Take the burden off Helaena.” He nods, “our children will be spared from acts such as these, when I am asked again to produce a male heir.”

“My love,” she cups his face in her hands, “I will do this for you. But not now, not like this.”

“I need you.” He argues.

Y/N strokes his cheeks, “I am here, the rest will sort.”

His lips are on hers then, in a soul crushing kiss. Pouring all of his sadness, loneliness and regret into it. “I love you.” It is a horrid, awful thing to say, following the death of his child, birthed by another woman.

“I love you too.”

He also mourns what might have been, had their mothers not been so stubborn. He wishes Jaehaerys were hers, it might have spared him. “Come with me.”

Y/N nods, allowing him to lead her down the hall to his rooms. Tearing at her clothes, and then his own, falling back onto the bed, with her beneath him. Panting as she stares up at him.

Aegon spits into his hand, wetting his cock as he does not have the patience for much more.

She means to tell him she’s never lied with a man, to warn him about her maidenhead. But she cannot bring herself to ask him to be gentle. She wants it to hurt…and it does. “Ahh.”

Aegon moves slowly, realizing what he’s done. The blood over his cock as he withdraws, “you were saving yourself?”

“It matters little.”

“It matters to me,” Aegon insists, “I’ve hurt you.”

“I want to do this for you.” She shakes her head, “I want you to split me open and bury your sorrows inside. I want to be yours. Your comfort, your strength.”

“Be my wife.”

“I will.”

“Be truthful with me.”

“I will.”

His strokes are slow and deep, kissing her sweetly as he fucks her perfect little cunt, getting her used to the feeling of fullness. “Does this hurt?”

“Yes,” Y/N admits.

Aegon slips a hand between them, rubbing her pearl in tight circles, “is that any better?”

Y/N gasps, “yes.”

Aegon smiles, “good.”

Y/N weaves her hands into his silver locks. Kissing him, holding him, consuming him. “I love you.”

Aegon groans, “I love you, dearly. I’ve longed for you each day we were apart.”

“Aegon.” She sighs, cunt tense with her impending peak.

“You’ll give me children, won’t you?”

“As many as you’d like.”

“And you will love them?”

“Of course,” Y/N nods.

“My daughter…Jaehaera, will you accept her and treat her as your own?”

Again, Y/N nods.

“Nothing could ever replace my son, but I will survive this, so long as I have you. Our children, Jaehaera, Helaena as well.”

Y/N smiles, “that sounds nice.” The love between Aegon and Helaena is not one she will ever understand. She loves her brother, but she has not bore him children. It would be different, surely.

Aegon lets out a sob as he empties his spend at the mouth of her womb.

Her high comes quick and unexpected, milking Aegon dry and pulsing around him. His cock softens, remaining inside her until he hardens again.

She is sore when morning comes and Aegon bathes her in rose water. Leaving his rooms only long enough to wed before returning to their bed.

Aegon is restless in those early moons, before Y/N’s belly begins to swell with child. She plays with Jaehaera and keeps Helaena company, she writes to her mother when time permits.

Jaehaera giggles loudly as Y/N toys with her doll, walking it towards her. The little girl points to Y/N’s belly.

“Soon.” Y/N tells her, “a little sister or brother for you to play with.”

Jaehaera nods.

Helaena looks to Y/N with a soft smile.

“You know which it is, don’t you?” Y/N can tell by her face.

“Aegon will be pleased,” Helaena says, with finality.

Based off her words, Y/N spends the next months under the impression she’s to have a son. Instead, she bears Aegon a daughter, then two more the following year.

The King does not mind, in fact, he has all but accepted that Jaehaerys would be his only son. Until their fourth child is born, a little boy with silver hair.

“He looks like you,” Y/N says, acknowledging the bittersweet irony of it all.

Aegon nods, with a sad smile, “indeed.”

Part 2

[writingwithcolor]

How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?

Anonymous asked:

I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?

Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.

A Secular Afterlife

What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?

More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work. 

The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).

While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.

A Jewish Perspective on ghosts

However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework. 

Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom. 

Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth. 

Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well. 

More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation. 

In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact. 

This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim. 

Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular. 

Meanwhile, back at the topic:

Where does any of this place Danielle?

Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them. 

My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters: 

Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.

Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context. 

Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence. 

Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text. 

Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.  

-Meir

Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–

When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.) Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.

The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.

The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.

I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.

~S

[rarepears]

3AM thoughts:

Shen Qingqiu loses his memories while on a solo mission. A rich noble man finds him and is "kind" enough to offer shelter until Shen Qingqiu gets his bearings (perhaps regain his memory too) and figures out his next steps.

Except Shen Qingqiu doesn't regain his memories in the next couple months and ends up accepting the noble's courtship...

He finds himself so happy and content (and pampered) that he can't imagine how or why his past self became a cultivator. Or maybe he became a cultivator just so he could look forever young and thin no matter how much sweets he eats? Hm, that's a valid theory. Shen Jiu gives himself a pat on the back.

Cue Cang Qiong, desperately searching for their missing Qing Jing peak lord for months, nearly a couple years in fact, finding their missing peak lord being a pampered spoiled first wife lounging in his courtyard barefoot and full of so much delicious food that he could pass off as 3 months pregnant thanks to his willow thin frame.

Well, that's what they thought until Mu Qingfang confirmed that Shen Qingqiu was indeed a couple months pregnant...

---

(Naturally the noble man aka Shen Jiu's husband is actually Shen Yuan the transmigrator who stumbled upon a cultivator with the signature green robes that Shen Yuan couldn't not recognize as Qing Jing peak. Upon confirming that the cultivator had amnesia and seeing the sword's name etched on the metal, how could Shen Yuan not try to plot how to keep Shen Qingqiu away from Cang Qiong and the protagonist??

He's TOTALLY not gay, but marriage is a fantastic way to trap the peak lord in his house forever right??

and if he finds that the evil scum teacher is actually pretty cute and easy to spoil, that totally doesn't mean anything. Shen Qingqiu is basically like a cat! Who doesn't like cats! Especially when they stop hissing at you and start demanding for more cuddles, pats, and treats?

A destressed Shen Qingqiu not haunted by his trauma, forced to work all day for unappreciative people, and surrounded by love is apparently the world's most spoiled spouse. Who knew?)

[thinkinonsense]

Francesca

old!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: angst, mentions of death, sad logan, a bit of fluff

wc: 800+

a/n: not sure if this will be the last part of the mini-series or not. i think i'll only add more if im inspired. i have a new mini-series idea for old man!logan so be on the lookout for that in a week or so.

hozier mini-series masterlist

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Logan had lost a lot in his life. He watched people he cared about die right before his eyes; the ultimate curse of living such a long life. Everyone he loved had to go at some point, and for the most part, he accepted that until you entered his life.

He did everything he could to ensure your safety, and for the most part, it worked. The only place where you weren't protected was in his nightmares.

Ever since you two met, the nightmares appear less and less but they also never fully disappear either. Logan still wakes up in cold sweats and haunting images of your bloody body dead in his arms.

"Hey! Hey! I'm alright, honey." You whispered in an attempt to bring him back to reality. "I'm here. I'm right here."

The only thing that helps him calm down is when you place one of his hands over your heart; skin to skin, feeling your heartbeat pulse and knowing that you are indeed alive and lying next to him.

Logan's heavy breathing eases after a few moments. He carefully wraps you into his arms, placing you on his chest. You knew in times like these that Logan needed to feel you.

"No one's going to hurt me." You assure him.

"We don't know for sure..." He sighs. "and I can't risk that."

"I know for sure. You know how I am so certain that no one will hurt me?" You don't allow time for Logan to answer. Your fingers lace themselves with his, bringing this hand up to his and softly placing kisses over the slits in between his knuckles. "Because I feel safest with you and these claws are part of the reason why."

Logan wasn't one to blush or feel all mushy deep inside himself but those little kisses amazed him. He admired your kindness and patience towards him. It took him forever to understand how you did it.

"Sorry for waking you up, princess." He says, trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "Didn't mean to scare ya'."

"Do you honestly think I scare that easily?" Your light giggle almost makes Logan smile.

"Guess not." He shrugs, admiring how a sliver of moonlight catches on your face. "But in any other normal relationship you wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit-"

"Hey!" You whisper, springing up to fully face him now, soft hands holding each side of his face. "This isn't bullshit."

"It is, sweetheart." Logan sighs. "I'm selfish."

"How are you selfish?"

"Because you deserve to live a long life with someone who won't damn you."

"I don't care if you damn me!" Your voice raised, not in anger but in passion. "I love you. I love all of you. When they cut me open someday that's all they will find; my love for you pouring from inside of me."

Logan pulls you impossibly closer, afraid of you slipping away. His heart pounded with love; beating solely for your existence.

"Heaven couldn't house a love like ours."

There's a heaviness in your heart as you look into Logan's hazel eyes. even after all these years, it broke your heart that Logan always felt like you were made of sand. sure, you weren't a mutant like him but you wouldn't go down without a fight. he's always afraid that someone from his past will come for revenge and you'll be the one to pay for it.

"I don't want you to be so worried, lo.." you whisper, thumb soothing the salt and pepper beard that's bloomed over the last few days. "when my time comes, I don't want you to feel responsible for it."

Death was always a sensitive topic for both of you. your death, more specifically because someday it will come no matter if either of you is ready or not. Logan doesn't think he can live without you; you tell him that he's survived before you and will survive after you. he doesn't believe you.

"I've waited all my life for you. every agonizing, torturous moment brought me to you." his voice starts to strain. "now, you are all I have left to live for... so, when you're gone, babydoll, I won't be far behind you."

Tears roll down your cheek. overwhelmed with love and fear because you can't stop Logan from taking his own life if you die. he lays you back down on his chest carefully.

Logan had seen everything the world had to offer him; most of it was utter shit until he was graced with your presence. all he wanted to do with the rest of his life was shield you from all of the horrid darkness he had seen. you were too pure and he intended to keep you far away from it all, for as long as the two of you walked this earth.

[deathbxnny]

SO HEAR ME OUT A LITTLE ROT NEVER STOPED ANYONE-

Ok anyways- Capitano, Dainsleif & Arlecchino where reader was also from Khaenri'ah and they where alive when the Cataclysm happened yeah yeah but like say they got impaled in the like upper stomach and so that’s where their rot is (it wasn’t enough to kill them).

- (￣▽￣)

Capitano, Dainsleif, and Arlecchino with a Khaenri'ahn!Gn!Reader.

This was honestly pretty interesting to write about, so thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this post!!<3 (I made this way too angsty ngl-)

Content: Vague mentions of rotting, angst, established relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

He knew you during his time in Khaenri'ahn and stuck by your side even after it fell, and you too were victimized by that cruel curse. He was rotting away under his armor, whilst the injury you sustained did the same, albeit much slower than his. He never commented on it, however, and neither did you on his appearance. You both understood that in this world, only you two could truly sympathize with the other's plight.

And so, he made sure to let you know that your beauty never faded to him. You were always stunning in his eyes. The curse could never take that away from you no matter how much it rotted away your flesh. If insecurities arise, then he's quick to whisk them away with kind and gentle words that may seem unlikely to come from him. Yet he means every letter.

Your past haunts the both of you, yet there is a certain pride in the way you came out victorious in the end despite your cruel circumstances. Even if your flesh rots away completely, your love will withstand it all.

》DAINSLEIF

The guilt is painful. Perhaps even worse than the curse and way worse than the suffering you, too, endured after your home was destroyed. And a part of him will, therefore, always wonder if death wouldn't have been a mercy on you especially after all. He can't bear to see your flesh and body rot away, the injury he couldn't prevent being a forever reminder of his failures, and it killed him inside, even if he never showed his discomfort. He didn't dare to. He wasn't in a better state anyway, despite being somehow still strong enough to continue every day. It was only a matter of time.

Your insecurities and turbulent thoughts of self-doubt are swept away by his calming voice and words, an ache in his heart whenever he sees you reminisce on what you once were. The world of Teyvat was vast and wide, so endless, and yet you two were lonely in it, despite the comfort you had in only eachother.

A time would come in which you'd succumb to the curse or beat all odds and escape it. But whatever fate chooses to be, Dainsleif is honored to experience it at your side.

》ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino considers her past as just that. A past that she left behind in pursuit of better greater things, especially after the fall of Khaenri'ah and her previous mother Curcabena. Life moved on, and yet, you were a gentle reminder in her life to never close that door to her origins entirely. Both of your appearances, hearts and souls had been changed by the curse. And although she was one of the very few lucky one's that escaped the clutches of the rot, she still acknowledged that you were indeed not as fortunate. Not that she minded.

To her, you forever remained the same no matter how bad your condition may have become or how worse it's going to be. Her children respect you as their parents, and she respects you as her lifelong partner. And that's enough for her and you. Any insecurities you may have are gently soothed by the security she gave you through the House of Hearth and herself.

Arlecchino knows that, ultimately, the curse is inescapable no matter how hard she pulls away from it. But alas, she supposes that it doesn't matter too much, if she goes down with you at her side. It will at least be less lonely that way.

[lewsnumerounofan]

dirty (theodore nott x reader)

summary: in which theo seeks to remind you who you really belong to (hint: it’s not your boyfriend).

notes: fingering (f receiving), cheating, kinda dick theo, kinda jealous theo, angst, 1k words, smut

+ part two

His eyes—dark, haunting—trailed you through each room and interaction. Well, trailed you and your boyfriend.

All was fine until your boyfriend went to get you both drinks. As soon as he disappeared from sight the Slytherins tall presence appeared at your back.

Despite your protests, Theo managed to drag you from the crowded dance floor, down the hall and into a dark bathroom, all the while avoiding your curses and flailing elbows.

“Let go of me, Nott. Are you fucking crazy dragging me out of the party like that? He could have seen,” you hissed, trying to break for the door. He beat you to it, coming to stand squarely between you and your escape route.

This boy, you thought. He drove you mental—had done since the first time you’d laid eyes on him. It was only a matter of time before one of you had slipped, boyfriend or no. Since then it had been long months of broom closet hook ups and secret astronomy tower rendezvous.

But you had sworn all that off. Your boyfriend was nice. And Theo was… well, Theo.

“Come here,” he said.

You scoffed and focused hard on the bathroom tile to your right.

“I fucking said come here,” Theo repeated, but now his accent was thick and his voice was loud. Lip curled he waited for you to slowly stand before him. You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead watching as his chest rose and fell with angry breathes.

“You can talk about your boyfriend all you’d like, principessa,” he spat, “but I’m the one fucking you, hm?”

His crude words had you forgetting your fear and raising your chin to argue. There was no need to make this messier than it already was—and who was he to talk? He seemed to have a new girlfriend every other week.

But Theo didn’t give you the chance. He was in your face in an instant, backing you up until you’d hit the opposite wall.

“I’m the one you call when you’re horny or lonely. I fucking own you.”

Your faces were almost touching. Theo angry was something you could never forget—his eyes were almost black as they incessantly tracked your movements. Mouth in a permanent snarl he kept your body caged in with his long arms, even as you tried weakly to pry yourself away. His voice changed too; every time he yelled his Italian accent became stronger, words sometimes reverting back to his native tongue. It made you dizzy.

“Theo-“

“Boyfriend or not, you’re mine. Sei mia,” he said, this time crushing the words onto your mouth.

Blood bloomed in your mouth as his lips slanted over yours. Theo was always rough with you, but now he was angry. And that proved to be wholly different.

Hands harsh on your skin, he pulled up your skirt. Not a second thought was spared for your lacy (expensive) underwear; Theo barely pushed them aside enough to fit two long fingers into you.

He handled your body deftly, taking what he wanted and doing so roughly. You tried to be mad at his obvious disregard, but something about the clench of his jaw and the heavy heat of his mouth made protest impossible. Thought of any form seemed beyond you; as he forced a long leg between yours you ground down, whimpering at your own vulnerability.

“So pathetic. Look at yourself,” he murmured, lips kissing along your neck. Indeed, it was a rather indecent picture. With your skirt ridden up and your underwear pushed away you could easily see where he was touching you. The slick on his long fingers, the flex of his arms as he pushed into you. The stutter of your hips along his thigh, pants already wet.

“What would your boyfriend think if he saw you, hm baby?

You wanted to scream. Possessiveness laced every flux of Theo’s voice, and his dead eyes were black as they watched you.

“Theodore-“

He tsked. His full lip curled, thigh pressing hard between your legs.

“Don’t call me that.”

You desperately tried to shift away from the pressure he forced on your clit, whining gently.

“Teddy,” you corrected, “Teddy please. Need you.”

The boys ego exploded at your words. Your boyfriend didn’t have you saying things like that, he was certain. Only he made you feel like that. Only he would ever make you feel like that.

Theo let his thumb replace his thigh between your legs, rubbing back and forth. Almost desperate to get away from the growing tightness below your stomach, you shifted your hips back and forth for relief. Feelings were too close and warm—sparks seemed to tense the muscles of your limbs over and over as Theo worked you meticulously.

“Cmon now, doing so good,” he said. His voice was raw with lust and admiration as he watched your face crumple.

“Teddy Teddy Teddy Teddy,” you were saying. Name a ceaseless prayer from your lips, body strung out he kissed you hard. That was all it took; your orgasm broke through you, bringing tears and pitiful moans. You clutched at the boys shoulders, breaths heaving through you.

“Teddy.”

A whisper this time, onto the fair skin of his neck. He held your limp body gently in his big hands. You started to shiver, but urged your trembling fingers to find his belt.

“Wanna feel you,” you said. But your hand was pushed away.

“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for, amore?”

And just like that he brushed past you, not sparing a backwards glance as he left the bathroom.

You didn’t move for a second, orgasm-fuzzy brain trying to process what had just happened.

Theo had left you. Theo had left you here after making you cum on his fingers.

You felt cold all of a sudden. Cold and dirty, you realized, as you tugged your underwear back into place. It was still damp—because of Theo, because of the way he mocked you and rolled his fingers in you.

Tears were quick to gather in your eyes. Fuck Theo and his stupid comments and his stupid, stupid eyes for leaving you here.

Fuck Theo for making you feel like this—like something to be used and mocked and discarded.

As you wiped fiercely at the hot tears tracking your cheek you promised yourself no more of the brooding Slytherin.

No more Theodore Nott.

[misstycloud]

Yandere merman x reader x best friend

———————————————————————

Imagine a darling finding out she’s half-mermaid.

She lives in a small fishing village way out in he country. It’s the kind of town no one ever leaves. You’re born, grow up, and die there. Whole generations of families have lived there since long before.

Her parents are normal folks; father’s sailor and mother’s a stay-at-home wife. But since darlings family is so much like others’, she doesn’t understand why she’s so different. Her mother often jokes about how her first word was ‘sea’ and how she’d find her standing in her crib, staring out the window at the waves crashing into the cliffs.

Darling has been in a constant battle with herself her whole life. Since as long as she can remember she’s had a gripping fascination with the ocean. She can’t help it! Every night when everyone else laid sound-asleep in their beds, did she lie awake and fantasize about sneaking out and disappearing under the dark waves. No matter how hard she tried shutting these thoughts away, they always came back to haunt her.

While her mother thought is was cute and not a problem, it couldn’t be anything more. Her mother didn’t understand- as sweeet as she was. It probably stemmed from her being too busy with darlings younger siblings and doing chores, that she didn’t think of how the village spoke of her daughter. They call her strange and speak of what a waste of beauty on someone like her; she’s no good and you can’t marry her. Her mother didn’t know about how the rest of the kids teased darling. They pulled her her and pushed he on the ground. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her to find her school books wet with sea water, since she ‘likes it so much’. The teachers didn’t care either.

The only solace darling can find is in her best friend. He always defended her agaisnt her bullies- which was practically everyone- and stayed by her side, even when he could become affected too. Darling feels he’s too good to her. The times she felt so alone, he was there to comfort her when her confidence was at its lowest. He held her when she cried and patted her back, whispering into her ear about how sweet and beautiful she is.

Then, by chance one day, she meets a merman. She is surprised- merfolk only exists in stories after all! The merman is so inhumanly beautiful. With long hair cascading down his back and a long fish tail. His tail looked very strong, he was no doubt an excellent swimmer. At first she is scared of him, she runs away-ignoring his shouts for her to come back- and keeps to herself in her room. Her family is worried and wonders if something is wrong, but she tells them it’s nothing and that she’s just a little tired. In her room, darling thinks about the merman. How is it possible for him to exist? Was she hallucinating and perhaps he wasn’t real? Are there other mythological creatures out there? After overcoming her initial fear and hesitance, she decides to go back to the beach.

The merman was still there. She dares ask how he can talk and he responds with, “My people don’t speak the way you do, but I have taught myself the language of humans. That’s how I am communicating with you.”

She asks him more questions, all of which he answers truthfully. Or, well, she hoped he wasn’t trying to deceive her. Darling even gained the courage of asking whether the stories of merfolk feastin on human flesh is true, and when the merman confirms it’s indeed true, she backs up. When he notices her alarmed state, he hurriedly add that he would never eat her.

It’s then he hits her with the most shocking reveal of her life. Apparently, he senses mer- blood in her vains.

“….n-no, that can’t be. You must be sensing wrong- I’m human..!”

He sighs. “Merfolk are very intuitive. We always recognise our own kind.”

He reveals that he suspect her of being half- merfolk since the scent of mer is strong on her. Darling thinks it’s laughable, both her parents are perfectly human. It can’t be. Like, she’d notice if one of her parents was a mythological creature with a fish tail as a lower half.

The merman tells her of old stories among his people, of mers who reproduced with humans- whether its be willingly or the human had kidnapped them. The children would always be different. On the surface they appeared like any other human, but on the inside there would constantly be a longing to return to their orgins- the ocean. Darling is conflicted. On one hand she can’t believe what she’s hearing, however, the description of the half- bloods fit her too well.

That night she confronts her father while he’s getting off work. He breaks instantly. She is shocked to discover that her father had an affair with a mermaid whilst being married to her mother. He had discovered her while fishing in an unpopular area and took her with him. He sobs that he couldn’t help it, the mermaid was so enchanting he couldn’t control himself. When the mermaid fell pregnant, he was so scared of what his wife would say when she found out, but when the child came out human, he was puzzled but relieved at the same time. He brought the baby home and played it off as finding it abondoned by the docks.

Darling can’t believe it. Her father was practically a monster. She recalled the tales of kidnapped merfolk held against their will, by the merman. She couldn’t imagine what her birth mother must’ve gone through. Her father begs her not to tell her mother because it would destroy the happy family they’d built.

In the end, she chooses to keep the secret for the time being. The right thing was to tell her mother, but it was also true that it would ruin everything and she didn’t want her younger siblings to grow up in a broken family. The only thing she wanted was for her father to leave her alone and never speak to her unless absolutely necessary. He agreed.

She begins spending all her time by the beach, in the company of the merman. She wondered what his name was, and to her bewilderment, he shrugged and said he didn’t have one. So she decides to give him one herself, Aqualor. It seemed merfolk-y enough. Luckily, the merman didn’t object and smiled instead, accepting the name.

Her best friend is worried though. He can never seem to even catch a glimpse of the love of his life anymore. Where was she? Now that they’d both grown into adults, it became harder to see each other; he had to work to support himself(and her, in the future). He felt horrible about it, but in all honesty he was a little glad the rest of the village didn’t take to her. If they did, surely she would have been taken away from him. Even if she didn’t know it, she was incredibly beautiful. It was impossible for him not to be a little biased, but she truly was the most wonderful thing he’d laid his eyes on. He could only imagine how it’d be if people actually treated her like she looked.

While her best friend felt the separation anxiety, darling count be happier. Finally she had someone who understood her fully. There was someone to relate to when she explained the urge to dive deep beneath the waves and disappear, and how pleasant water felt on her skin. Aqualor understood everything perfectly.

Her best memory was of her first swim with Aqualor. She’d been somewhat sacred in he beginning. Despite her desperate longing for the ocean, she’d never been in it much. It was quite ironic. He’d been so patient with her, never pushing or getting annoyed. He waited until she was more comfortable venturing out in the openness. Now they swam together every day, laughing and playing. Of course, Aqualor was the superior swim more out of the two of them, but darling likes to think she isn’t so shabby herself.

This is how she thought the rest of her life would be like; she and Aqualor enjoying each others company from morning to evening, while she returns home to the village every night. She didn’t have a job- no one would hire her anyway- so why not have fun with your friend? It wouldn’t be the best life, but it’d be peaceful and easy.

However, the ‘easy’ disappeared when Aqualor asked if she’d like to join him in the sea permanently.

“What? What do you mean?” She tilted her head in confusion.

The merman flipped his tail in the shallow water- his upper body was on the sand while the rest of him remained in the water. “Would you not like to come with me? We already spend so much time together, so it would hardly be any different.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just leave. I have to stay with my family.” She glanced back up and could see the tiniest snippet of houses, the village.

“You mean the father who has committed sins, a mother who doesn’t care for your feelings and siblings who forget your existence?” He harshly pointed out. His words stung.

“They’re far from perfect, I know that. But still, I can’t just vanish- I don’t even think I can survive out there!”

He grabbed her hand, his were wet and slightly webbed. It didn’t bother her though.

“Of course you can. Remember your heritage? Besides, I will be there and guide you through it. I will protect you, I will hunt for you. It will just be you and me, happy and content. Doesn’t it sound lovely?”

She went quiet and looked away, unsure.

He continued, “You alway tell me of how the humans treat you. They scorn you and say hateful words about you. That is because you are above them.” He smiled. “You do not belong here- you are mer! You should be with your people.”

“But even if I have mer-blood, I’m still human, look at me.” She stretched out her legs, flexing them and empathising their difference.

“You may have the appearance of a human, you soul, however, it is of a mermaid. You long to be free and to live the life you’ve always meant to live. They can’t keep you here in this…” his voice trailed off to disgust “cage.”

Darling sat and listened to Aqualor’s ramblings. Did he have a point? It’s not like anyone would miss her really. Her friend, yes, but he has so much else to live for. He’s not strange and everyone thinks well of him. He’ll be successful.

“So, what do you say, my coral? Will you join me?”

[deeplyshalllow]

An in depth study of the Lion Cub Scene in the Wicked Movie

Elphaba and Fiyero's meeting

Dancing Through Life

Sorry it’s taken a little longer than I expected to come out with this essay, I’ve been busy general pre-Christmas stuff and then recreating the entirety of Heather the Musical with Funko pops – you know, the usual. In any case, in a way I’m glad that it’s taken slightly longer as it’s meant that the movie screenplay has come out in the meantime so I can make the odd reference to that.

[Elphaba practices her ‘toss, toss,’ Fiyero notices.]

“You’ve been Galindafied.” [smiles at her fondly,] “you don’t need to do that, you know. Come on, let’s get to class.”

This is essentially the same line as in the musical (though my best friend was quick to point out removed Fiyero imitating the ‘toss toss’ and I’m pretty sure she nearly walked out of the cinema in outrage), and I think it serves the same purpose. The idea that Galinda is indeed continuing on her mission to make Elphaba popular and Elphaba is somewhat receptive to it. Fiyero, though fondly, kind of thinks the whole thing is a little ridiculous and finds Elphaba fine the way she is.

This scene is actually the one most impacted by what was cut from the screenplay. In the screenplay version we do not have the “Let’s get to class” line as it’s actually set a considerable amount of time (potentially a few months) before the Lion Cub. I go into much more detail here but basically there is a montage between the “toss toss” scene and the Lion Cub scene that shows time passing and  Elphaba, Galinda, Fiyero, Nessa and Boq becoming friends.

Elphaba is wearing different clothes when she enters Dillamond’s classroom than in the “toss toss” scene, so I am going to take this as canon that there is still the same time jump, as it makes a lot more narrative sense (otherwise there’s very little time before Elphaba goes to the Emerald City for anyone to become friends). Therefore, by the scene in Dillamond’s classroom we are to assume a few months have passed, and Elphaba regards Fiyero as somewhat of a friend that she’s comfortable enough being around, if in a bit of a superficial “my best friend’s boyfriend” sort of way.

The scene continues mostly as it does in the musical, Doctor Dillamond tells the class he’s no longer permitted to teach, Elphaba is cross and tries to stop it, Doctor Dillamond is taken away. All this is expected and as expected of Elphaba’s character considering her previous scenes.

What is new is Fiyero’s reaction to Doctor Dillamond being taken away, he also stands up and shouts “hey!” he’s clearly not the only student distressed, but aside from Elphaba he appears the most distressed. It’s immediately clear that “Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters” is not as true as he makes it out to be. In my opinion, this is a very good change from the musical, as it sets up his actions later in the scene, he’s on Elphaba and the Animals’ side, he’s always been on their side.

Fiyero, however, does not react like Elphaba. After the initial outburst, he is silenced and sits down like the rest of the class (albeit he is one of the last to do so) and does not respond to her challenge to the class of “Are we all just going to sit here in silence?”  

Elphaba, never one for staying silent, like her musical counterpart, continues to challenge the teacher and get increasingly distressed through seeing the Cub in the cage (the premonition of seeing Dillamond in a cage here is, obviously, new to the movie and I think mostly serves to show how distressed she is – I don’t think she’s really realised what she’s seeing is the future, but it may haunt her later).

“Can you imagine a world where Animals are kept in cages and never learn to speak. This Lion Cub seems so frightened. What are we going to do?”

“I’m sorry, we?”

And here we see the dichotomy between Elphaba and Fiyero, both care, both are upset, but Fiyero is not one to spring to action in this situation without outside provocation – again, he’s sung an entire song about how he’ll get less hurt if he pretends not to care. While Elphaba wants to do something no matter what the cost, Fiyero is stuck on the practicalities of the situation: they are powerless students, they will immediately be stopped so, at least for now, he does not try.

“Well someone’s got to do something,” [Elphaba slams her hand on the desk, causing poppies to float in the air, putting everyone to sleep]

[Fiyero, stares around, not falling asleep but somewhat bewildered, Galinda falls asleep on his shoulder] “hey, hey, c’mere,” [lays Galinda’s head on the desk].

The spell going from making everyone crazy dance, to poppies putting everyone to sleep is a change for the movie, and I think a good one. I don’t think the crazy dance would have worked as well in film format, and the poppies is obviously a lovely reference to the Wizard of Oz – ultimately though, I don’t think it changes much about the narrative.

What I do find really interesting about this scene is the inclusion of Galinda and Nessa. In the musical, neither are in the class, so the casting of Elphaba’s spell seemed to imply that she didn’t magic Fiyero because he was the one person she liked. In here, the two of them are present, and are spelled too, so Fiyero being left out has got to be for a different reason – I read somewhere on Tumblr that apparently they’ve said this will be explored in part 2 and I hope so, because my reading is that it’s another sign that Fiyero alone cares as much about this as Elphaba.

“What is happening?”

“I don’t know, I got mad and...” [Elphaba notices that Fiyero has already got up and is heading towards the Lion Cub] “Fiyero, what are you doing?”

[Fiyero, having already got the Lion Cub out of the cage like the amazing, kitty saving, hero that he is]

“Well, are you coming?”

I love this. I love this so much. Script wise this is not very much of a change from the musical, in fact only one line of Fiyero’s is cut, “Alright just don't move! And don't get mad at me!” but the fact he moves the beat before, that the moment he realises there now is something they can do, which won’t get them stopped or in more trouble than the good they can do, he springs into action – does so much for his characterisation. It’s so very clear from this that he’s doing this because he cares about the Cub too, he’s doing because he wants to himself rather than to help Elphaba, I also like that the removal of this line takes away any idea of blame or frustration at Elphaba’s powers – Jonathan’s Fiyero never really judges her for being unusual.

This scene, both in show and film, is always excellent at showing why Fiyeraba suit each other. Elphaba is all passion and fire, she cares and will fight, but will also go in headfirst without thinking of the consequences. Fiyero, meanwhile, needs the spark of passion and push to act, but when he does act he is careful and tactical, he gets what he wants but in a way that smoothes the consequences of Elphaba’s rash actions and gets at least the majority of them out safely (see also: Throne Room Scene, Corn Field Scene).

There’s nothing particular to note in the bike scene, but I appreciate the cute reference to Mrs Gulch and Toto in the Wizard of Oz (that reference alone made me pleased I watched WOO a few days before I saw Wicked).

[Madame Morrible enters the classroom and sees everyone asleep] “What in the name of Oz?” [immediately writes a letter to the Wizard]

Not Fiyeraba related but I think it’s important to note what’s going on here. Madame Morrible has seen not only that Elphaba has cast a spell, but what she has cast the spell to do (to free an Animal). She’s not writing to the Wizard because she sees Elphaba is already talented enough to see the Wizard (as a first time viewer is led to believe), she’s speeding up the process so Elphaba is safely at the Wizard’s side before she can become any more pro Animal rights. It’s another great addition to canon, showing how much Morrible is in control even in act 1.

Also, Fiyero, who is also not in class, is completely overlooked, because being seen as a himbo often puts him beyond suspicion (she probably assumed he was just skiving off).

We have a few lines cut from the show here:

Elphaba: Careful! Don't shake him!

Fiyero: I'm not!

Elphaba: We can't just let him loose anywhere, you know. We have to find someplace safe...

Fiyero: Don't you think that I realize that? You must think I'm really stupid or something!

Elphaba: No, not really stupid.

These lines are in the screenplay so they’re a recent cut, but I think it’s still important to see the impacts of them being taken to. Again, we see the Fiyeraba relationship being a little less antagonistic than in the show. They still wind each other up a bit, because they defend themselves from the world in such radically different ways that they don’t quite understand the other at times (which we’ll see later in this scene), but they’re not actively sniping at each other in the movie. It’s times like this where we see their similarities, they are supporting the same cause, they have the same end goal in mind and, when they are both sure what they’re doing is right, they’re both very focused on getting it done.

It’s probably important to note that from here on out the musical and movie script is almost identical, so this becomes more of an analysis of the scene in both works, though I will point out where I think the movie particularly differs.

[Elphaba puts Lion Cub down so he can drink water] “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Why is it you’re always causing some sort of commotion?”

“I don’t cause commotions, I am one.”

“Yeah, well that’s for sure.”

Now the Lion Cub is somewhat safe, and resting Elphaba and Fiyero are finally given some time to think and interact.

These are musical lines, but again they hit differently with the meeting scene in the movie. Fiyero constantly uses derogatory humour about himself/his persona, so offhandedly that I’m not sure he even realises he’s doing it anymore. So it’s natural for him to think that Elphaba’s response is the same semi-joke at her own expense as he so frequently does to himself, so he plays into it.

“So you think I should just keep my mouth shut, is that what you’re saying?”

Elphaba, however, does not share quite the same self derogatory humour, any time she insults herself she truly means it. While Fiyero is desperate for people to see him for who he pretends to be, Elphaba wants people to like her for whom she really is. So she doesn’t see Fiyero’s reaction as him laughing at her joke, but instead as him also insulting her and, again, she goes on the defensive.

I get a feeling this also harks back to Elphaba’s relationship with her father, and the general reaction whenever she talked back or accidently did magic. Elphaba is used to being told to shut up, used to be seen as lesser and it’s just happened again with a boy she’s beginning to like and trust.

“What? No, no, I’m saying-”

And, again, Fiyero answers back, because he didn’t mean that – Elphaba puts him on the back foot once again when interacting with her – for all his smooth talking and easy charm Elphaba cuts right through it, because she simply will not let him act like that with her. If she is to trust him she needs to see his true feelings.

“Do you think I want to be this way?”

“I th-”

 “Do you think I want to care this much?”

“I mean-”

“I know that my life would be much easier if I-”

There’s so much self loathing in Elphaba’s feelings about herself, so much of an assumption that everything she does is the wrong thing, that she could be better. Fiyero has basically said nothing against her, even less than in the show. This is all her criticising herself.

But it’s interesting what she says. It’s not the usual “no your opinions on why I am green are stupid” stuff, it’s vulnerable stuff. It’s her admitting that all the things people say to her, and the way she’s treated hurt, that she would dearly like to just be normal. Without really realising it, she’s allowing Fiyero to see a lot more of herself that she usually lets on.

“Do you ever let anyone else talk?”

This is a mask slip for Fiyero. Not in a big way, but it’s him suddenly having to be direct and real with her. Elphaba makes Fiyero have to express real feelings and emotions (even if at the moment it’s mostly frustration).

“Sorry.”

Fiyero letting his mask slip breaks Elphaba out of her rant. Again, it’s the same in the musical, but I do think there’s an added part in the movie where it references Fiyero calling out her defensiveness in the first scene. It gives Elphaba a second to reassess and realise it wasn’t an attack. She apologises, she’s also out of her natural comfort zone of unrelenting defensiveness.

“I just-”

“But can I just say one more thing?”

[Fiyero motions for her to go ahead]

“You could have walked away back there”

The realisation the Fiyero isn’t attacking her has allowed Elphaba to rethink, and for it to sink in what Fiyero has actually done, that he didn’t just freak out and run away, that he cared, that he helped her. And I think this sobers her up a little, to question and to see Fiyero in a new light.

[Fiyero shrugs] “So?”

I always find this line so interesting, because Fiyero hasn’t noticed yet that his mask has slipped. He acted on instinct to help Elphaba, to save the Cub, we see here that Fiyero’s natural instinct to care about things has never been very well hidden (which is why the mask is completely off by the time we hit Act 2).

“So, no matter how shallow and self absorbed you pretend to be.”

“Um, excuse me, there is no pretence here, I happen to be genuinely self absorbed and deeply shallow.”

I love this line. Obviously I love this line. I’ve loved it for 15 years. Have you seen my username?

But anyway, now he’s been made aware of what he’s been called out for Fiyero pulls himself back, tries to put his walls up again.

It’s interesting, because this line is obviously an old one, but it fits very well with Jonathan’s movie Fiyero persona, it’s more self derogatory humour, it’s more deflection, but it’s also something so dumb that someone genuinely dumb probably wouldn’t say it. It’s not really up to his usual standards of charm, Elphaba has, once again, put Fiyero on the back foot.

“Oh please. No you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t be so unhappy.”

[awkward silence as they stare each other down]

Elphaba is not buying Fiyero’s words. She tells him straight out that he’s more than that, completely rejecting his happy, carefree, persona. She’s seen that he wants more out of life than this.

Again, such interesting parallels to Fiyero calling out Elphaba’s defensiveness in their movie meeting.

“Fine, if you don’t want my help.”

Fiyero is scared. And for the first time we see him react in anger. His normal act of charm and stupidity has not worked at all, so he falls back to having to try and push her away without this.

“No, I do.” [Elphaba grabs Fiyero’s hand]

I mean obviously there’s supposed to be some kind of electricity here, but I think it’s more than that. I think it’s Fiyero and Elphaba having realised they’ve found a kindred spirit. That both of them have suddenly found themselves vulnerable, without masks, and really seeing each other for the first time. They have let each other into more of their feelings than they expected to and it’s both elating and terrifying.

[Back in the classroom Galinda wakes up, notices both Fiyero and Elphaba are gone]

I feel like this is supposed to be the first niggling hint Galinda gets that there are feelings between Elphaba and Fiyero, especially because the “I’m not that girl” chords in the background start here rather than in the background of Fiyero and Elphaba’s scene. Like nothing right now enough to truly alarm her, but something she’ll look back on and realise this was the start.

“What did you mean to do back there? And why was I the only one you didn’t do it to?”

[long silence]

“You’re bleeding.”

Suddenly Fiyero is the one challenging Elphaba, asking her questions she’s scared of answering. And she, like Fiyero, isn’t quite ready to face what it means, so she changes the topic.

“Mhmm” [Elphaba reaches out to touch Fiyero’s scratch, at first Fiyero flinches, but then lets her], “there. It must have scratched you.”

“Yeah, or maybe it scratched me or something.”

This change of topic does not work at all, just ends up bringing them closer. Although, I must say, I miss how much it was an almost kiss in the musical. I feel like this version had a bit less chemistry, which was a shame. Still, it is the pinnacle of the sexual tension, where something more could happen and they both know and want it.

 [Fiyero retreats] “I’d better get to safety, the Cub.”

With this line and the last we see Fiyero go back to full on saying dumb shit when Elphaba flusters him (we saw it when he first met her, and will see it again in the throne room). Fiyero is often very smooth with words so it’s always telling when she renders him unable to use this.

“Of course.”

“Get the Cub to safety.” [Fiyero grabs the Cub and runs away]

[Elphaba gets up and shouts after him] “Fiyero!”

Fiyero chickens out, scared by his feelings. Elphaba calls out after him. Both of them are changed by the day and the challenge to their personas but both end up, in their own ways, talking themselves back into them. Fiyero goes back to Galinda, who loves him for his dumb playboy persona, while Elphaba sings a song essentially saying she’s not good enough for him because of who she is and how he’ll like Galinda better. But we know for the future that it is obviously something that sticks with them and will alter their actions and perceptions of each other going forward.

Fiyero and Elphaba have always been a story of two people afraid to show the world who they really are, who dislike the other’s persona but who discover that they both love the other for the traits they hide from the world. While this scene isn’t necessarily that different from its musical counterpart (which is also excellent), I do think the softening of Fiyero and some of the antagonism from Elphaba, puts a little bit of a different spin on things. It makes it very clear that they are two people that share ideals and, while they hide from the world, both, when push comes to shove, will do anything to make it a better place. I think the movie does an excellent job to show why they suit and are attracted to each other, and also a good job of foreshadowing that neither of them will ultimately shy away from giving up everything to do what is right.

[lowkeyren]

YOUR DOCTOR AT BAY, KEEPS THE NIGHTMARES AWAY!

in which — your boyfriend comforts you from a nightmare

pairing —dr ratio x gn!reader

"an apple a day, keeps the doctor away" lol get it, short comfort fic ft our favourite doctor, from req: here!, reblogs w comments are vv much appreciated, anyway please enjoy!!! <3

the air constricts around you like a tightening vice, each breath coming harder than the last; your quiet sobs fill the room as the darkness envelops you like a shroud. the recurring nightmares haunt you each time you close your eyes, never failing to ensnare you in their chilling embrace.

the suffocating darkness presses in, its weight bearing down on your chest as you struggle to breathe; you curl into yourself, sweat lining against your back, clutching the bedsheets as if it’s your only tether to reality. the sheets twist and damp from your restless movements, you let out a yelp involuntarily, a desperate cry that echoes in the oppressive silence of the night. 

your heart races, pounding in your chest with each beat reverberating through your entire body, amplifying the fear coursing through your veins. your breathing now erratic, your eyebrows furrowing as you feel the walls around you slowly closing in.

in the midst of your turmoil, a gentle touch breaks through the chaos. dr ratio’s hand finds yours, his touch cool and reassuring against the feverish warmth of your skin. 

“you’re safe with me.” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering fear.

with his other arm, dr ratio draws you close, enveloping you in his comforting embrace. his heartbeat, steady and strong, reverberates against your chest, reassuring that you’re indeed, safe with him.

“i’m sorry i woke you up. i’m fine i—” you say meekly, unable to steady the shaky tone in your voice. “shh,” he squeezes your hand lightly, “you don’t need to apologize, i will be here for you, no matter what.”

you subconsciously lean into him, the scent of his skin a familiar anchor in the swirling maelstrom of your mind. he strokes your back gently, the tension in your brows loosen as you nestle into him. the fear and dread gnawing at your mind slowly dissipates, replaced by the soft touch of dr ratio tracing gentle circles on your back.

he notices stains of tears glistening on your cheeks, and your figure trembling slightly. “look at me,” you look up to meet his gaze as he wipes away the lingering tears with his thumb, “take a deep breath, it was just a dream.” his voice is tender and soothing, breaking through the remnants of fear. 

“i'm here,” he leans down, his breath warm against your hair. “and i’m not going anywhere.”

his arms are wrapped securely around you, the warmth of his body seeps into yours, chasing away any lingering chill of fear. he continues to stroke your back, the tender motion helps to unravel the tight knots of tension that have taken hold of your muscles.

“everything will be okay.” gradually, the room around you starts to feel less oppressive as you feel the walls that once seemed to trap you now loosening and expanding. “you’re safe with me,” he repeats, his gaze locking with yours.

you nod at his reassurance, opting to bury your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear slowly lulling you back to sleep. he continues to hold you tightly, his fingers gently threading through your hair in soothing motions. 

he presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, "sleep well, my dear." 

with those final words, you finally allow yourself to fully relax, the safety of his embrace guiding you into a deep, restful sleep. 

no matter what nightmares may come, dr ratio will always be there to hold you through them; even in the darkest hours, you are not alone. no matter how irrational “love” may seem, he knows that he will never fail to pull you back from the abyss that threatens to consume you, not when you’re safely cradled in his arms.

masterlist

[sepdet]

Merry Shitscram, Tumblr!

(transcript below cut)

Guess what I borrowed from Mom's stacks while visiting?

I won't cap the whole thing, but at least I can provide you with some selected excerpts for the next week. Yes, this IS that edition.

Transcript below.

Chapter One

FOR THE THIRD consecutive night, Captain James T. Kirk awoke with a gasp of surprise and something akin to fear clinging to the side of his throat. He blinked once, then struggled to sit up, leaning against the head reted and his gaze settled on the chrom. Pet, y was shortly after 3 A.M., Ship Standard Time, but he was wide awake and knew he would have little hope of getting back to sleep before the alarm demanded his attention at six.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding, he replayed the recurring dream in his mind, wondering why it should have disturbed him so deeply... and so often.

After discovering no logical explanation for its cause or its unprecedented effect on him, he tried passing it off to the fact that the Enterprise had been on routine patrol of the Romulan Neutral Zone for nearly two months-an inexcusably boring mission. But with Romulan Fleet activity increased for no apparent rea-son, he accepted the fact that he was bound to be a little edgy.

After another deep breath and a shake of his tousled hair, he slowly lowered himself back into the warm nest of covers, and closed his eyes; but as expected,

1

he was only pretending to sleep when the First Shift duty alarm sound of less than three hours later.

stifling a yawn, Kirk entried the Deck 5 turbolift to discover the ship's first officer studying him with a lifted eyebrow.

"Moring, Spock," Kink said with a sheepish grin, wishing he'd taken the time for a cup of coffee before presenting himself publicly.

The Vulcan's head inclined in greeting, "Captain," he said formally. The doors closed and the lift began its familiar horizontal motion, but the Vulcan continued to study his friend. "Is everything all right, Captain?" he inquired presently.

"Just fine, Mister Spock," Kirk replied. "Why do you ask?" He wondered if his eyes were a trifle more red than they'd appeared in the mirror.

The eyebrow climbed higher beneath the long black bangs. "You seem... unusually distracted," Spock observed after a questioning moment of silence.

So much for dismissing the matter, Kirk thought. Spock's scrutiny was never escaped easily. "Would you believe me if I told you that the invincible Captain Kirk has insomnia?" he asked with a smile.

"Indeed," Spock murmured. Kirk was normally a very private individual; but now the hazel eyes seemed alight with a combination of embarrassment and mischief. The Vulcan decided not to mention that he himself had been having disturbing dreams for at least a week. "I trust you have not sought relief from Doctor McCoy?"

Kirk shook his head. "For a few hours of lost sleep?" But the twinkle left his eyes as a frown found its way to his face. "I don't know why it should bother me at all," he said, feeling some need to explain himself. "But ... never mind, Spock," he added as the nocturnal images returned to haunt him. "It was... just a dream." Trying to change the subject, the smile returned to his face. "Another human shortcoming, eh, Spock?"

2

Something in Kirk's too-casual tone caused the Vulcan to look at him more closely. "Would you care to discuss the matter in more detail, Captain?" he asked, momentarily wondering why he didn't dismiss the subject as Kirk was attempting to do. Yet he realized that the captain's normal reservations concerning his personal life did not extend to him, just as he understood that the reverse was also true.

Kirk glanced up from where he'd been studying his boots, and felt the familiar telepathic door swing open between himself and the Vulcan. It was something which had formed between them over the years, something which had saved their lives countless times and made them brothers. He did want to discuss it, but only with Spock.

McCoy would, as the Vulcan was fond of pointing out, dispense a handful of pills and an hour of friendly advice; and though Kirk valued the doctor's friendship, he wasn't in the mood for a full battery of psychological tests to determine the cause of a simple recurring dream. He chanced a quick look at the Vulcan as a plan of action took shape in his mind.

"I haven't had breakfast yet," he began, finding an excuse he needed. "But... I'm sure you have, Mister Spock. After all," he continued with a broadening grin, "Vulcans never ever miss breakfast, right? You have to keep those thought-wheels well oiled and in perfect working order." He studied his first officer's lean frame. "And you never gain an ounce either!" he added with a look of mock-disgust, remembering Mc-Coy's warnings to cut back on the meat and potatoes and settle for a salad once in awhile.

The Vulcan brow lowered as Spock observed his captain's nonchalant approach. "I have not eaten this morning," he stated in straightforward contrast to Kirk's roundabout endeavors, "and I would be pleased to join you." His eyes seemed to lighten as he studied the casual way Kirk was holding in his stomach. "And we need not inform Doctor McCoy as to the menu."

3

[dunmesh]

laios and shuro's relationship is so important to me it's not funny anymore... the fact shuro kept believing in laios during the latter part of the manga, then searched for him after laios became a monster and defeated the winged lion- although it was unclear what exactly had become of him- is haunting me because of how it contrasts with him choosing to give up on saving falin after he saw her as a chimera. like, laios was so sure that their fight in chapter 38 was the end of their friendship while in reality it was the beginning of it in shuro's eyes. laios kept agonizing over losing the one friend he cared for the most but it's because he didn't understand the significance of that little thing he kept carrying with him in every step until the very end of the series: the bell.

shuro gave him that bell as a token of his trust in him and his love: "we grew apart and i'm no longer fit for the position by your side, but no matter how far you go, i'll be there for you when you need me". their conflict over how to deal with falin forced them to go in different directions, but despite accepting leaving falin behind, shuro couldn't bring himself to abandon laios as well. and it's no coincidence that the bell shuro gave him was the proof that laios was still alive after all that happened, or that it's what pushed mithrun and kabru to go deeper into the dungeon instead of returning to the surface (which quite literally changed the entire chain of events afterwards).

yes, shuro decided to stop pursuing falin and report her condition to the governor so she could be stopped, even at the cost of her life. he gave up on her. but the same man also defied the canaries and fought for laios without knowing how messed up things had gotten because he chose to believe in laios above all else. and that, in my opinion, solidified just how important laios became to him- more than falin's, more than his own life, it's laios's he didn't give up on.

at the very end, when he met laios again after the latter defeated the winged lion, he gave him a hug filled with the pure, unrestrained joy of seeing his first and best friend on the island alive and well. hell, i mean, it's easy to forget that shuro didn't really have anyone close to him too- and laios might very well be the first person he was this disgustingly direct and truthful with since he was a child. and when he goes back home, there won't be anyone else like laios there; his home is still the same. it's him that changed. and later on when he will recall all those years he spent on the island, he will realize how surprising it is that all the crazy stuff he witnessed don't hold a candle to the impact those few people he befriended there had on him.

of course, laios didn't realize it until then- shuro's reaction was indeed the one that surprised him the most- but at that moment he could absolutely feel how foolish he was to be so sure he will be hated and rejected after everything they went through. it's so important that it was shuro who greeted him so affectionately, after we saw laios brooding over their fight so much: it's shuro's acceptance that he was longing for the most.

with all that being said, the one last thing that drives me crazy is that the bell laios was given to use when he needed assistance most was still with him even after turning back into his human form. that tiny item he was shown to be quite careless with and yet never let go of until he wanted to be completely alone, thinking he should run away from everyone he loved; but it was too late, his friend already heard his cry for help.

and they all answered.

[glitch-but-ya]

Let your memory of me be lost to time.

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

TW: Angst with no comfort, very slight "Beyond Cloudfall" spoilers, reader doesn't share the same personality with MC, part 1 of a series.

Summary: The echo of your past self haunts you just as much as it haunts him. Having lost all the qualities that made him fall for you in the first place—the fierceness, the brutality, the darkness that once consumed a corner of your soul—Sylus is forced into a twisted dilemma, torn between you and the version of you he once loved. You loved him. You truly did. But you know that staying will only cause his heart to ache with the memory of what once was. WC: 1,241 words.

"He chased after a lost fragment of me—the shadow of who I once was—all while I stood before him, longing to be seen."

When you needed him, Sylus closed the door in your face. You lost count of the number of times you’d shown up on his doorstep, your hands fidgeting awkwardly. You occasionally tugged at the hem of your attire, your eyes glued to the floor. Perhaps you were afraid to see the look on his face.

Each time, the moment your lips parted, they were silenced immediately by the sound of the door softly clicking shut. This went on for as long as you could remember. Day after day, you'd show up at his doorstep. You were persistent, and he could tell. No matter how many times he flatly rejected your presence, you'd be back the next day.

You never begged for him to open the door once he’d closed it. You didn’t cry, pound your fists on the wood, or scream out his name in desperation. You simply stood there, your lips quivering pathetically as you let out a sigh and eventually turned to leave.

As much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to turn you away so often. After all, it wasn’t your fault that he clung to the version of you from your past life. He shouldn’t have expected you to remain the same. And frankly, he didn’t. But what he never could have anticipated was you losing all the qualities that had rendered you appealing to him in the first place.

You were no longer the woman who had fearlessly ventured into his den to claim his life. You were no longer the sinner they all cowered before. And you were no longer her, the woman he once adored. You were like the sister of a deceased lover whom he’d promised to protect, but no more than that. It was true that he held some sort of affection for you.

But it wasn’t love.

The events of the past may have left him with a small amount of endearment and a sense of responsibility, but it was never enough to equate to love.

And what hurt him the most was the fact that you did indeed love him. He’d led you on with false hope, and you knew it. Yet, you didn’t complain. You never held him accountable for the ways he hurt you, for the consequences of his own naivety. Your love for him was pure, untainted, and whole. He wouldn’t have cared if it had been anyone else. But it was you—the woman he had once cradled so tenderly in his arms.

And yet, now that he gazed down upon you, Sylus could not find her in you. Your eyes were kinder and no longer burned with the intensity that had once challenged his authority. Your face was gentler, lacking the sharpness and confidence it once radiated. Most importantly, your entire being lacked the confidence that had sometimes outshined his own. You were still an exceptional person; that was beyond a shadow of a doubt. You were intelligent, strong, and possessed many talents that left even someone as seasoned as him stunned. But alas, you were not her.

You knocked on his door, just as you did every day, and he opened it. But this time, your hands clutched a casket.

Before he could close the door on you, you thrust the casket toward him, almost forcefully. Sylus cocked an eyebrow and scanned the box. "What is this?" You pushed it further into his face. "Payback." Now that you looked back on it, the wording was quite questionable.

Sylus took the casket from your hands and lifted the lid. The sight of what was inside caused his breath to hitch. The box was full of trinkets: jewelry, stones, watches, earbuds, bookmarks, and more—things he had gifted you in the past. When his gaze met yours pitifully, you pointed to the bags at your sides. "And I packed the dresses in these bags. I squished them all in together; I hope you don’t mind," you said with an apologetic smile.

All the while, he stared at you in awe. The silence that followed was deafening. He knew you didn’t mean to come off as spiteful, but that only hurt more. You returned everything because you felt you had to—because you sensed his grief and knew his heart so wholly. Even though he’d said nothing and demanded nothing, you felt as if you’d failed him. You felt as though you didn’t deserve all the things he’d gifted you. These weren’t presents for you, but for the past version of yourself he had hoped you’d become. And he could tell.

Sylus’s gaze returned to you. You fidgeted before him awkwardly, swaying as your eyes remained glued to the floor. "If I missed anything, you can tell me, and—" "That will be enough," he interjected, his voice colder and more distant than he intended. He saw you wince at his tone before nodding slowly.

"Before I leave... can we talk?" Sylus replied with a hesitant nod. You straightened yourself.

"I’m sorry," you started. "I couldn’t be her." Your eyes met his scarlet gaze. "I tried. I think you can tell. I tried to be her, to piece together her personality from my limited memory. And I’m sure it didn’t work. It was bound to fail because you loved her," you said, grimacing slightly. "And you knew her, inside and out. But anyway, I’m sorry. I couldn’t retain my old self, and I couldn’t mold myself to fit into the gaps. It’s—" "Not your fault," Sylus interrupted, looking elsewhere. "It was foolish of me. I held unrealistically high expectations for you. It was only natural you didn’t meet them. Nobody could." He shook his head. "We were a lost cause. There’s no point in lingering on this matter. Let’s both let it go and move on." You nodded in agreement. "But even then..." you bit your lip. "You won’t forget, will you? My... changes. They left a scar on you. A deep one. And this time, you can’t heal it."

"What about you?" You tilted your head, pointing at yourself. "Me?" He nodded. "What will you do?" "Fade away from your life, and eventually, your memories. Although I wish for you to remember me, it’s better if you don’t." You placed your hand over your heart. "Remove me from your world, Sylus. Let yourself forget me and my existence."

"We are bound by fate," he retorted. "We will run into each other, whether we want to or not." "Then let it be so that, if we meet again, I will be a mere stranger you’ve never met before."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two of you.

"So, I guess this is goodbye." You smiled in response, your eyes glimmering with silent tears. "I truly did love you, Sylus. But you’re not mine." You turned around, preparing to leave. "I’ve put something in the bag. Do whatever you want with it. Burn it, rip it, or treat it with care. It’s up to you."

You looked over your shoulder at him one last time. "May your memory of the me now be lost to time. I pray that, if we meet again in another life, you’ll find it in your heart to love me. Until then, goodbye."

And so, you left, leaving both a lingering sense of loss and relief in Sylus's heart.

[elodieunderglass]

To be fair to Jack Glass, an AI facemorpher app was never going to produce someone with any kind of alternative or queer energy whatsoever. It's just not how they're trained. I mean, that haircut is not a reflection of Elodie + T, that is the haunting spectre of ~60k random white guys whose data they scraped off Facebook to make the model.

Right fine FINE since we feel so strongly about the sheer provocation of poor old guysona Jack Glass let’s HAVE HIM BACK FOR A MOMENT, let’s chew on him SOME MORE, with his PODCASTER FACE APPARENTLY !!!!! Christ!!!!

MmmmmMMM I think , with all the love for humanity in my heart, that no matter how hard we might try to scrungle him, this is just A Good Man. it is A Good Man of a different species to myself. but ecosystems are beautiful and balanced places; full of things that are not my business, natural wonders that don’t need my opinion, and mysteries beyond my power to plumb. WHATEVER, it’s FINE. Am I not the first person to fight for the rights of the Bob? Do I not myself champion that there is no such thing as “looking queer” ? Have I not said before that such beliefs damage our whole community and hurt our people?

Nobly did I stand for the rights of the Bob, but I had not considered that but for a twist of the sliders, I was also capable of being a Bob all along!!

(Also I was kind of doing a bit, since the point of OP’s post was a celebration of trans people who are having a damn good time leaning into their inner Bob, as everyone should.)

However, the lessons that Jack Glass has to teach us are many, and one of them is: if a dark mirror showed you that inside your bi bitch self there was a guy who was, detectably, some sort of straight-looking guy with a DnD podcast and the ability to reverse parallel park as well as opinions on loading the dishwasher: can you be chill? Can you face up to the fact that a different brow line would simply make you appear extremely opinionated about fly fishing? And if not, why? Ultimately I do feel that I can be chill, with room in my heart for my inner Jack, even as I lay facedown on the floor thinking about how i BET he does his own oil changes. and that was the spirit I shared him in. The belief that because there is mundanity in the beautiful queer, there is beauty and indeed queerness in the glorious mundane.

And what came of it? Well, much condolence and sympathy, and many shared stories, and many people saying that while it may be very hard to face up to Jack Glass, what is important is that he looks kind. And that is another beautiful lesson of Jack Glass, which is that no matter who your dark mirror is, they are lovable to someone; whether this is helpful for people transitioning or simply helpful to hear in a psychological way, it is worth saying.

Thank you for this 🤝 and to everyone who, with charity and kindness, told me sincerely that they believed in his latent bi energy 😤 and may his lessons, whatever they are to you, be a blessing to those who need them.

[stolenviolet]

I saw in your baby death au story explanation that Harry can't sleep alone unless he has the doors open (correct me if I'm wrong). If I'm correct, does that mean Voldemort and Harry sleep in the same bed sometimes? And if not, how did Voldmort notice the specifics something like that?

Ah, good question!

He can sleep alone, but not very well (the door being open helps a bit but overall he just needs someone there with him). Even when he got his own room at the Dursley's, he had Hedwig to keep him company.

And like I said, there's no 'sleeping' together for quite a while, so how DID Voldemort notice?

The short answer:

They live in the same house (an agreement that was reached by the two of them, more for convenience sake, as they raise Thomas) so it would be odd if Voldemort hadn't noticed it eventually.

The long answer:

During the first two or three years of living under the same roof, Harry never slept anywhere besides the nursey. At first, Voldemort chalked it up as some sort of paternal instinct to protect Thomas. (most likely from Voldemort himself) However, while retiring to his own chambers in the evening, he always found it curious that Harry would leave the door slightly cracked.

'Would it not make more sense to have the door closed?,' he thought, 'The sound of it opening would surely be enough to wake him if someone were to enter the room...'

He shook his head, 'Perhaps the boy was clever enough to cast the appropriate spells to do so instead.'

He tested this theory once by walking into the room late one night and standing directly by the crib. Annoyingly, Harry never did stir from his slumber on the chaise lounge he had claimed in lieu of an actual bed. Both him and the baby remained fast asleep, completely unaware of the powerful wizard looming in the darkness so close by.

Voldemort honestly didn't know whether to be insulted (as he was clearly not viewed as a threat) or disappointed in the fact that there were, indeed, no protection or alarm spells in the room.

A problem he quickly remedied himself for the sake of the spawn's well-being, as it appears his 'Ma' would not be roused if an intruder were to somehow break past the home's already impressive wards.

And so Harry continued to sleep in the same room as his son, with the door slightly ajar, until Thomas was old enough to have his own bed.

This is when Voldemort began to notice that Harry did not take well to sleeping alone at night.

He would often find the 'boy-who-lived' looking quite dead on his feet, with heavy bags under his eyes, constantly drifting in and out of conversations.

After a good two or so weeks of this, Voldemort had finally had enough and decided to confronted him. Unsurprisingly, he was quickly brushed off, and the subject was changed almost immediately. No matter how many times he tried, he was always met with the same sort of response.

'Why do you even care?'

'Yes, I'm getting enough sleep. Stop asking, it's weird.'

'So what if I get nightmares, your probably the cause of most of them anyway!'

'I'm fine! Don't you have an animal or person or-or something to go torture other than me? Just-...just leave me alone...'

Needless to say, this was getting him no where and apart from drugging the boy with a sleeping draught every night, Voldemort was almost at his wits end.

That was unit one morning Harry came down from his room for breakfast looking fairly well-rested with a chipper-than-normal attitude.

Voldemort was puzzled.

What had changed? Did he just have one good night without anything haunting his dreams? Surely that was bound to happen at some point, but it was unlikely to be a regular occurrence.

However, weeks ticked by and Harry's eyes seemed brighter and his mood rapidly began to improve. He even started to engage in somewhat pleasant small talk when the two found themselves alone for more then five minutes at a time.

It was all very welcome and highly suspicious.

So, being the curious man that he was, Voldemort decided it was once again time to lurk about in the middle of the night for the cause of this sudden change in behavior.

And what he found, as he stood in the threshold of Harry's room, took him by surprise.

There, on the plush four poster bed coiled up next to his sleeping prophesized enemy, was Nagini.

Sensing his presence, she raised her large head to regard her master, who remained fixed in the doorway.

'Master's mate was in dire need of comfort. Nagini has decided she will be the one to provide it.'

Voldemort did not correct her, too busy trying to determine what exactly he was feeling in that moment to give her a proper response.

'...He is also very warm and a far better cuddler than master.'

That snapped him out of his thoughts long enough for him to huff out a quick, 'Don't be rude, Nagini.' To which she replied with a series of hisses that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

He sighed, and foolishly hoped she didn't notice the darkening of his cheeks.

'Very well, you may continue to provide...comfort. Thank you, my Nagini.'

She nodded once and went back to resting her head next to Harry's on his pillow.

He stayed in the doorway a while longer, observing the last two pieces of his soul huddled close to one another, before finally turning to walk silently back to his own room.

--

Nagini: you suck at cuddling and you're a terrible mate.

Voldemort:

--

Thanks for the ask, anon! ❤️