#apparently it’s classified as a fantasy book

[gatheryepens]

There is something so wonderful about reading a book, that you read when you were younger and rediscovering it and falling in love with it again

[adarkrainbow]

The fairytale world of The Witcher

The Witcher is first and foremost a work of fantasy and as such, of course, when looking at the inspirations of Sapkowski, we have to look at fantasy works. For example the early worldbuilding and characters of The Witcher world bear the heavy mark of D&D (Jaskier is a cliche D&D Bard, the classification of elemental genies is traight out of D&D, there's the handlings of "druids", etc...), while the main character clearly has parallels with Moorcock's Elric (white-haired wanderer-warrior who knows magic and uses elixirs, drugs to maintain his fighting abilities, philosophizes a lot about the ending of an age and the future of humanity and the doom he is condemned to). However, The Witcher is also, primarily, a fairytale work.

[EDIT: So I am used to call Jaskier "Jaskier" but in English he is called Dandelion apparently... So know that when I talk of Jaskier, I'm talking about Dandelion]

And I am not just saying that in the way that almost all major fantasy works are inspired by fairytales, no. It tends to be lost on people due to how they usually know derived incarnations of this series, but The Witcher stories started out as full on fairytale rewrites. More precisely: subversives parodies of fairytales using dark humor, a gritty tone proper to dark fantasy, and fantasy tropes in general mixed with some folklore sprinkled here and there.

Of all the Witcher books, the first two are the ones where this logic is on full display, forming the core of each tale. If you ever missed it, here is a little list of the fairytale references in them. [Note: I am using the French translation so I might miss some stuff or write them strangely for those used to the English translations or the original Polish]

Book 1: The Last Wish

Many people might be surprised to learn that the first story, "The Witcher", is actually the parody of a specific fairytale. It might seem to be just a take on the vampire as it appears in Eastern European folklore, but in truth Sapkowski rewrote a tale that you probably do not know. Why? Because none of the "great" collectors or writers have it: it doesn't appear in Andersen, Grimm, Perrault, Aulnoy, Basile, Straparola, or whoever else you might name. It is however a fully classified fairytale-type that is VERY present and popular in Eastern Europe, hence why it appears in The Witcher: the Aarne-Thompson classified it as type 307, "The Princess in the Shroud/The Princess in the Coffin". The closest thing you'll find to a version of this in the "classical" corpus is a Danish fairytale that Andrew Lang placed in his Pink Fairy Book: The Princess in the Chest (and Paul Delarue centered his own French-specific classification of this type around the story "La Ramée and the Phantom"). In interviews the author explained he took "a Polish fairytale" where "the royal daughter transformed into a monster because of the incest of her parents, as a punishment", but I don't known which story prcisely he used.

The second story, A Grain of Truth, is much more obvious, as it is a farcical take on Beauty and the Beast (with some flavors of Undine in it).

The third story, The Lesser Evil, introduces the Curse of the Black Sun, which is the in-universe existence for the "maidens in the tower" and all these princesses that princes have to rescue from doorless buildings (interwoven with the figure of Lilith). The cases of Fialka and Bernika are obviously inspired by the tale of Rapunzel. However the real character of the story, Renfri, is The Witcher's dark take on Snow-White.

A Question of Price is a large mix. The storyline is actually a retelling of Hans My Hedgehog, but exploring the fairytale trope that in Witcher terms is called "the law of surprise" - the episode of someone in need striking a deal with a supernatural being for help, and unwillingly selling away their children (it is most famously illustrated by Grimm's "The Girl without Hands"). One of the "historical" illustrations of this trope in the Witcher universe is a version of Rumplestiltskin (queen Metinna and Rumplestelt). There's also references to great heroes that served as an example of such "fate-striken children" sold to a mysterious stranger - but if there's a cultural nod there, I didn't get it. Finally several fairytales are referred during the discussions: Baba-Yaga and Cinderella are briefly said to exist while "A Question of Price" takes place. And Pavetta's magic is not related to fairytales, but rather to the strange cultural motif of "puberty-induced or virginity-linked psychic powers" found from poltergeists to Carrie.

The fifth story, The Edge of the World, is the only one of the collection not dealing with fairytales. It is rather a tale mixing on one side rural folklore, farming superstitions, field spirits and harvest gods, with on the other an exploration of the fantasy trope of "disappearing elves".

The sixth story, The Last Wish, is all about wish-granting genies, with a strong influence from the tale "The Fisherman and the Jinni".

Book 2: Sword of Destiny

The first story, The Bounds of Reason, is not deconstructing a fairytale per se, but rather the entire myth of the dragon-slaying. You find references to many elements of said myth: "You must kill the dragon to claim the princess", the saint-knight figure interpreting dragons as pure evil, the band of dwarves famed for slaying a dragon seem to me a nod to The Hobbit. But mainly, we see that the tale begins as a subversion/expansion on the legend of Smok Wawelski, the Dragon of Wawel, known to some as the Dragon of Cracovia. There's also a mention of bridge-trolls (The Three Billy Goats Gruff).

The second story, A Shard of Ice, is not linked to fairytales per se, but uses a motif taken directly from The Snow Queen (and in-universe, the fairytale of the Snow Queen is said to be an embellished version of the Wild Hunt).

The third story, Eternal Flame, has no fairytale theme, it is just a pure fantasy story.

The fourth story, A Little Sacrifice, opens and closes on the in-universe love story that caused the story of The Little Mermaid to exist (turns out it is a ballad by Jaskier, the actual romance went much happier, though not smoother). Also, the under-sea city is explicitely compared to the city of Ys, which is a big legend of France.

With the fifth story, Sword of Destiny, we go back into a lot of fairytale nods (it helps that it is a direct sequel to "A Question of Price"). The "Last Forest" of Brokelion is a nod to Brocéliande, the legendary forest of Arthurian legends. Geralt tells Ciri the fable of the Fox and the Cat. Freixenet turns out to have been the inspiration for the fairytale of "The Wild Swans", which in-universe is a ridiculous exaggeration and mistelling of what truly happened.

The sixth story, "Something More", only is "fairytale-y" as it reuses the saw "surprise-child/law of destiny" elements already prepared and presented by A Question of Price and Sword of Destiny.

Afterward, from what I understood (I haven't read the third book onward), the fairytale elements are dropped to rather put focus on the exploration of the fantasy and folkloric elements - but it is always useful to know that it started out as basically a dark humor /dark fantasy take on fairytales.

[cemitadepollo]

@tragicallyphosphorescent

You see, the thing about "sociopaths" it's that they're not real. If you open a psychology book, as you apparently hint to have done at some point, you'll discover that the term you're using isn't only scientifically inaccurate, but an outdated and harmful term used to refer to people with ASPD– Anti-Social Personality Disorder. This cluster B disorder is developed as a coping mechanism by people who suffer from childhood neglect, so people demonize literal abuse survivors for their little "serial killer abuser sociopath" fantasy that they saw in their favorite true crime movie. I would love to know where did you get the objective fact that most "sociopaths" don't seek treatment and hurt people.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder, otherwise known as NPD or just "narcissists", is a disorder that's classified in the cluster B category of personality disorders according to the DSM-V, this disorder is also developed because of childhood neglect. People love to armchair diagnose their abusers with this disorder under the ignorant belief that narcissistic people are selfish and that's it, it's used as an interchangeable term, which couldn't be further from reality. So no, I don't believe in "narcissistic abuse". Abuse is just abuse, an abuser is just an abuser, there's no need to slap anything else alongisde that label.

Just because a manifestation of trauma is different it doesn't mean it's bad. People with ASPD and NPD are as likely to abuse someone as a person without them. Lacking empathy doesn't make someone a bad person, empathy is just the capability to instinctually feel another human's feelings, but it's not the same as sympathy or compassion. A good person is one who's actions do good.

Now, I'm not invalidating the abuse anyone has gone through. If you tell me somebody, anybody, abused you, I believe you. But there's no need to demonize disorders in order to find support or validation.

You can find a free PDF of The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. 5th edition (DSM-V) easily on the internet, no need to buy the book itself. I suggest you give it a read to clear up that whole "sociopath" thing and to educate yourself more on the narcissistic personality disorder. As a disclaimer, the DSM-V is highly discussed by the neurodivergent community on a regular basis and some individuals, including myself, have a word or two about certain criteria that needs to be met to get a diagnosis, but I'm advising you to read it as a start.

Sincerely, a borderline with fluctuating empathy that's very tired of watching their cluster B siblings get denied treatment and dignity, because in case you didn't know this, lots of us actively seek treatment but get deemed "too hard to treat" or get actively abused by the medic system IF we are even allowed some sort of therapy. As a neurodivergent person, I'd assume you know of the kinds of horrors people like you and me suffer in psych wards, except people with personality disorders and other demonized illnesses still get thrown around and abused since our disorders aren't deemed as "harmless" as people who suffer from depression and anxiety or people with autism.

[rbinsgf]

Gold Rush

Eddie Munson was loosing a fight against his very own demons.

Eddie Munson was proud of who he was. What he stood for. What he was capable to create and imagine, may it be guitar riffs or fantasy stories. He was unapologetically and so loudly himself that everyone thought that man was an open book. One look at the guy and you could probably guess five true things about him. But Eddie Munson had a secret. A secret so big that even his best friend Gareth and his uncle Wayne didn’t know about it.

Eddie cares about his aesthetic, his style and which vibes he gives off. He also cares about specific values and what he called the "Munson’s rules of the universe". And this secret went against everything cited just before. This secret would ruin his reputation at so many level he would have to move to Canada or something.

Eddie Munson had a crush. On a boy. That last part isn’t the main problem which is an insane thing to say when that whole situation takes place in Hawkins, Indiana in 1984. No no you see, the actual problem here is that Eddie Munson has a crush on the enemy. His arc nemesis. His natural opposite. The bane of his existence.

Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington.

Eddie wants to crack his skull open on the nearest sharp corner at hand every time he see Harrington ridiculous coiffe in the school’s hallway. He wants to bite down on his locker whenever he hears Harrington’s laugh. Eddie would rather witness his DND set, Ozzy poster AND his sweetheart burn down before him than admit to anyone that shameful secret.

Eddie may be dramatic, but if you ask him, actually passing out cold when his brain processed that crush, was a very normal and legitimate reaction.

But Eddie loved to go against the rules, even his apparently.

So now he just sits here, looking at the fallen King of Hawkins High out of the corner of his eyes. Eddie loved his hair, even more now as it hides him as he spies on a miserable looking Harrington.

The King had "fallen" from the top of the food chain following the arrival of one annoying Billy Hargrove. Eddie hated that wannabe metalhead poser and regularly tried to explose him with his mind.

Now, as Eddie waits at the usual lunch table for his hellfire friends to join him, he watches as Steve’s eating alone. Stripped from his status, faced completely bashed in (rumors has it was Hargrove’s work), looking like a kicked puppy but still. Even in this state, everyone at Hawkins High still worshipped him. Eddie saw how some guys still looked up to him for validation or how others envied him still. Eddie couldn’t ignore the girls all fawning over him as he strolled down the hallways, head always held high.

And Eddie was part of all three of those categories of idiots and he loathed himself for it.

He was mad at himself for crushing on Steve Harrington like every other teenage girls and repressed boy around him.

Everyone wants Steve Harrington. And how could they not right ? Between the puffy hair, shiny big eyes, his overall nonchalant swagger. Eddie could wax poetry about the guy all day everyday if he wasn’t to busy being disappointed in himself.

One thing Eddie also prided himself with was his observation skills. And with that came a kin interest in analyzing and understanding other human beings. It’s not that he thinks he is better than everyone around him at this very instant for what he notices about Harrington, but he kinda does thinks he is better than everyone surrounding him.

See, Steve hadn’t been eating anything, he was just moving the food around in his plate but what he has been doing was writing in a beat up notebook. Always looking warily around him before doing so.

Eddie had put those two information in a very classified folder of his mind as his friends appeared around him. Happy to finally be distracted from his self inflicted torture, he lets himself delve in the sounds of Jeff complaining about Mrs.Click class and Gareth snorting every so often at his friend’s dramatics.

Eddie glanced to the side as some movements caught his attention. Steve was getting up to leave, shouldering his backpack and taking his tray towards the trash. He glanced up briefly and his eyes caught Eddie’s, who quickly looked away.

Eddie didn’t see Steve leaving the cafeteria. He didn’t see Steve looking back at him several times too. He tried to listen to Gareth talking about how some Buckley girl nearly poked his eye out with a pen earlier, but his mind wasn’t cooperating at all.

No you see, Eddie’s mind definitely hated him as it couldn’t move away from that worn out notebook and what was written in it.

Eddie Munson will have to wait 2 more years, survivre some fried wizard from another dimension, an army of bats and attend a pool party to see that notebook again. It was just laying there on top of Steve’s desk sometimes during May 1986 at one of the party’s gatherings. Eddie was hiding in Steve’s room trying to flee an angry Dustin Henderson (the guy was serious about that never ending story song). Eddie’s curiosity took the best of him and he opened it, and he didn’t know what exactly he was hoping for but it was certainly not that.

The pages were filled with entries dated from the fall of 1984 until recently. Every days that had passed since then was written down with some quick summary of what had happened each day. Some parts were highlighted and some pages were marked in what seemed to be a color code with degree of importance of the information written. Some pages seemed to have been ripped. And some were blank.

One page caught his attention as it was the only one marked by a red sticky note slightly poking out. It took him to the entry of some day in fall of 1984, under the date was a short sentence about school and basketball practice but also another short phrase about a set of dark eyes, a mane of curly hair and a leather jacket across the cafeteria.

Eddie’s eyebrows were furrowed as his mind was going a few thousand miles an hour.

He knew Steve had memory problems due to all the time he got beaten up but he hadn’t realized how early it had all manifested.

Also, the thought of Steve wanting to remember 1984 Eddie sent all the man in question’s blood straight to his face.

That’s why Steve ended up finding Eddie, red faced, cursing and stomping around his room about how stupid the universe was and hyping himself up to finally make a move now that he actually may have a chance with his embarrassing high school crush.

"You had a crush on me in High School ? Wasn’t it too mainstream for mister anti-conformity ?"

Eddie spluttered as he turned around.

"You better wipe that smugness off your face Harrington I swear to god !"

"Why don’t you come here and do it yourself Munson ?"

————————————————

Here you go gang with a little steddie ficlet !

I love the hc that Steve has memory problems (since I do have some too) and Eddie being frustrated with his crush is also one of my fav trope.

Hope you enjoyed it and don’t hesitate comment and give me some feedbacks !

Love you 🫶🏼🧡

[wildechild17]

Mag 7 wip

something I'm working on as a side project for NaNo, decided I'd share a little (not really) excerpt here, just because i could

Sam Chisolm wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as he stood in the sparsely decorated apartment in London, it wasn’t… this.

It was, in fact, sparse. There was a small kitchen, a couch with a pullout that looked slept in, a bathroom, and a tiny closet. It was by no means a luxury place, but it was just one level above being condemned, if you asked Sam.

The man’s heart broke a little as he took it in. There was no sign of the occupant he was looking for, not that he knew who he was looking for—his boss had simply given him this address and said the person who lived here would be a good addition to the team if Sam could convince them.

Given the fact of who the rest of the team was made up of, Sam had two guesses as to whose place he was standing in. Past experiences told him one was more likely than the other.

Something caught his eye, a leatherbound book sitting among the blankets on the pullout. Curious, Sam wandered over, reaching for the book. He flipped through it, noting it was some mix between a journal and a scrapbook. The first entry dated back to just over eleven years ago, and Sam couldn’t help but read.

9-29-12

I’ve always known my family had powers… how could I not, when mom uses hers to heal those in our family, and when both she and gran have told me about other members of our… bloodline? Apparently, the blood is important… and their abilities.

I just assumed, like everyone before me, that it skipped generations… Instead, I woke up this morning with my own abilities. Powers… magic? I like the idea of calling it magic. Who knows, I may have them sooner and didn’t realize it… Skipper had died during the night, and when mom and Aunt Elenore asked who I was greeting this morning because to them it was empty air… I told them Skip, and I was then informed he’d passed in his sleep, so how could I be seeing him?

One quick test later, my mom declared that a) I had magic, and b) it could be classified as necromancy. That’s… a terrifying, truthfully, prospect, but… I can handle it. I hope.

At least it’s the weekend before fall break, so mom can help me figure out how to start managing it. I’m in senior year, so it’s not like I’ll have to hide it from the others as school for long. If I go to college, I can get by with strictly online classes, I think.

Mom suggested I use a journal to track my progress, but I’ve never been the best at keeping records, even school wise. Hopefully with something to keep track of, that’ll change.

I’ll make another entry when something of importance happens, I guess.

10-10-12   10-9-12/10-10-12

What the fuck is my life, truly?

With the influx of my powers, came something else… my memories. I guess necromancy and reincarnation can go hand in hand, because this isn’t the first time I’ve lived. I started having dreams and flashbacks during break, of an older version of myself set back in the Wild West. I thought it was just some weird dream/fantasy thing since… well, since I’m sort of obsessed with that era, anyways, but… no. It all came rushing back to me, today, during fifth period, which is my study block this year.

We got a new student… which, in a small town like Salem, is kind of a cause for chatter, and I wasn’t really paying attention until the guy sat next to me. When I finally looked at him…

Son of a bitch… it’s Vasquez. It all came back to me—Sam Chisolm, Rose Creek, Bart Bogue…

I’m… sort of embarrassed to say that I had a total breakdown right then and there. Mom actually had to come and pick me up early, it was so bad. It’s super late (early?), right now, almost three in the morning, and I’ve been catatonic all afternoon, according to her. So, I guess all these events really happened yesterday?

I’m getting distracted… I told her what had happened, what’s been happening, and she… didn’t seem totally surprised. Fact is, she’s the one who gave me the idea that my reincarnation ties in with my powers. Something about death being involved, which… makes sense, in a weird way.

Mom offered to keep me out of school for the rest of the week, so I can recover, but… I don’t want to do that. Maybe a day or two, but not a week. I want to talk to Vas so I can Vasquez, so I can sort of explain things to him. Hopefully, it’ll go well…

10-13-12 Update: It… I didn’t explain the powers thing to him. I didn’t want to freak him out, but I did tell him why I had my breakdown on Monday. He understood, because when his memories came back to him, he was a wreck for a while too.

He came over for the afternoon, and mom and Aunt Elenore absolutely fell in love with him. Bastard put on the damn charm. We didn’t get any schoolwork done, not like we really planned to, but we did catch up on things. What’s been going on in our modern lives, and he told me a little about what happened after I died in Rose Creek… His family travels a lot in this life, for his dad’s work. He’s got two siblings, an older sister and younger brother. I couldn’t resist and had to make a crack about his ‘three Maria’s’… he asked where mine was.

… I told him Maria died when we were kids. He sobered up pretty quick… guess he could tell it was a sore subject.

Anyways… my magic practice is progressing well. Right now, I can just see spirits, which is weird because they look like just regular people—for the most part. I’ve seen a few grisly sights, but I’m learning how to pick their energies apart from the living, so I don’t make a fool of myself in public.

Oddly enough, Vasquez has a couple ghosts hanging around him…

Sam flipped through the journal, heart twisting in his chest as he noticed a few entries more prominent than others. One, over Christmas break, detailing why Vasquez had ghosts—his father was a hunter of the supernatural, and the revelation apparently caused a rift between the two boys before Vasquez’s father himself had put things to right. He’d put the hunting behind him and was trying to settle down with his family… he could have never expected his son to befriend a witch—which, that had led to Joshua admitting about himself…

Prom. They stopped dancing around their feelings for each other and became official, and that entry made Sam smile, as well as the photos of that night that accompanied the entry. They did make a handsome couple. That was where Vasquez’s writing started slipping in on a few pages, offering extra insight or his own commentary to whatever Joshua was writing.

Graduation. Maybe too quick to those who don’t know about… us, but Vasquez gave me a bloody promise ring tonight. (you’re not actually complaining, are you? Fuck you, I’m keeping it forever thought so) and detailing a rough plan of the future. Plans to stay in Salem long enough to get through college, before moving. Maybe they’d find where Rose Creek was, if it was somewhere they could move to, settle down there. Ideas about where the rest of their motley crew were…

College. Joshua went into Anthropology and the Occult (seriously, guero? Bite me, texican), and Vasquez Art and Architecture (you know there’s a joke about cliches in there somewhere, right? Don’t you dare). Joshua seemed to develop a minor side hobby (?) in helping people with their dead loved ones, the spirits who hadn’t crossed over because of unfinished business (Jennifer Love Hewitt, who?) When they’d both finished their studies… Joshua was the one who proposed.

There were photos of various moments, in those early years. High school included prom, graduation, senior trip, homecoming week. After high school showed moving into their first apartment together, as they worked through college, domestic moments, moments with their families, college graduation, of the proposal, and later, multiple photos from the wedding. Tickets to various date locations, movies, and festivals, were taped in as well. It seemed Joshua (and by some small extension, Vasquez) was eager to keep track of everything.

But just after their return from their honeymoon in August of twenty-fifteen, the entries stopped. The next one wasn’t dated until January of twenty-sixteen. Reading it, Sam felt his heart stop and blood run cold.

1-13-16 I’m sorry, Ale… I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t… couldn’t save you. If I was faster… maybe you’d still be here. Maybe I could have… God, I’m crazy for thinking it… brought you back. If you’d wanted it… if maybe I’d seen you… your spirit, at least, maybe one more time, to ask…

There are limitations to my abilities… I can bring people back from the dead, but only within a set time… I didn’t make it with you… And I’m so sorry.

You must have crossed over. That’s the only reason I can think of to not see your ghost… it’d be just like you, too… you wouldn’t have wanted me to see you like that. I know you wouldn’t have. I know, but… goddammit it still hurts, you son of a bitch. If I could have just said goodbye…

… you were gone too soon. And those bastards… they’ll pay. Eventually, they’ll pay.

I’m sorry.

I… did find where Rose Creek is. It’s still a small town but thriving in today’s age. I’ll… I’ll go there. For us… for you.

Maybe I’ll find some sort of peace there.

Silence, for a few months, before another entry was made.

5-23-16 God, what have I done? I didn’t… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean for that to happen… I didn’t know I could do that.

I need to get away. From everyone. Anyone that I can hurt…

I’m so sorry Vas…

After that, there were no more entries. Sam flipped through the remaining blank pages and found nothing. Frowning, Sam went back to the last entry, and wondered what the hell might have happened for it to exist.

Actually, he wondered what happened in those last two entries in general—one was obvious. The other… not so much. He’d have to ask Matthew to investigate the dates mentioned, give or take a day or two. Surely, there’d be some sort of record online, somewhere—

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

Sam startled, the book falling from his hands and back on to the bed. He whirled around, coming eye to eye with Joshua Faraday. The first thing the older man noticed was how tired the redhead looked, with bags beneath his eyes, and skin pale. He stood as though the weight of the world was laid on his shoulders, but it didn’t distract from the, frankly, intimidating glare he was fixing Sam with.

“I know I locked the door when I left,” Joshua continued, and then his gaze flicked down to the journal on the bed, and his anger grew. He stood straight, and Sam swore the room grew colder and darker as Joshua set a bag of possible groceries on the floor, “You went looking through my personal things?!”

“Now, hold on just a minute, son—” Sam began.

“I’m not your son,” Joshua hissed, and there was no doubt about it—Joshua was altering the space around them. His eyes were beginning to glow, a toxic green that caused the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck to rise, “What are you doing here, Chisolm?”

“I came to offer you a job,” Sam said, quickly, and Joshua drew up short. A brief look of bafflement crossed his features as he stared at the older man, “That is, if you want it.”

The redhead crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

“Explain,” he said, shortly, so Sam did.

He explained how he’d been tasked with bringing a crew together (yes, the rest of the Rose Creek bunch, for the most part…) and that while Joshua’s name hadn’t come up directly, Sam’s own bosses had suggested Joshua could be an integral part of the team. This team would be dealing with threats across the world, both natural and supernatural. Clearly, Joshua would be a good addition, if he wanted to join.

“But… I’m not pressing you to,” Sam said, quietly. He glanced down at the journal, then back to Joshua, “You’ve clearly been through a lot already.”

Joshua’s expression darkened, lips thinning, but he said nothing. Just stared at Sam with those eyes of his still glowing. But he was silent, and Sam took it for a good thing.

“… would you have come for me, if I hadn’t been brought up?” Joshua asked.

Sam blinked at the question, but answered nonetheless: “Eventually, yes. It wouldn’t have been fair not to include you and—” he faltered, only because Joshua pinned him with a venomous glare, “We want everyone we can get. We worked so well together, before.”

Silence, again, and Sam could tell Joshua was right on the edge of accepting the offer, he just needed one last push.

“Who killed him?” Sam asked, pitching his own voice low—after all, someone had mess with those he cared about. He was angry thinking about it; Joshua startled, so Sam asked again, “Who did it? We can go after the sons of bitches with you.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched.

“Hunters,” he ground out. “Ones who didn’t approve of his relationship with… with me. I don’t… I don’t have exact names, though.”

“Then come with me,” Sam offered, holding out his hand. “Together, we’ll help you figure out who did it, and we’ll see them get what they deserve.”

Joshua looked down at Sam’s extended hand, before he looked up at the man himself. The temperature returned to normal, and the shadows fell away. The glow in the witch’s eyes faded, but they still burned with anger and determination…

Joshua took Sam’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Chisolm.”

[the-assignment]

Blog #1 - Afrofuturism??

Okay, honestly, straight up. I had no idea what Afrofuturism was and how it related to pretty much anything else. Well, I guess that’s only partly true because while I didn’t know the name or that it was even a “thing,” I definitely enjoyed and consumed Afrofuturistic content – just without knowing it. For example, Black Panther, Kendrick Lamar, and Beyoncé are all Afrofuturistic art/artists that I know and love.

I also didn’t know there are different definitions or various ways different people can classify Afrofuturism – so I really like that it can mean different things to different people. I find that to be super inclusive! In general, I learned that Afrofuturism is more like Black Speculative Arts (as referenced by my professor) and can include Science Fiction, Futurism, Black Futurity, as well as some fantasy elements and even horror. What I personally found really interesting was one of the propellers of creating this type of genre – the aspect of the lack of inclusion often found in mainstream – *ahem* white – futuristic, fantasy, and dystopia films. Like, a lot of those films don’t feature Black people at all (or only briefly or they die) and while I could recognize that obvious lack of representation before, I didn’t really think about the bigger implications.

Like, the actual erasure of Black people in the future. If they are not in most versions or creations of peoples ideas of what the future is – Where are they? What does that say about how people see (or don’t see) them now? What happens to them? What about their future? Where do they belong? What does this exclusion say to them about their role in society? I know many may say it’s not that deep – but isn’t it tho? It’s an interesting train of thought that I have, unfortunately, never considered before in the context of Afrofuturism. And if I’m being honest, I’ll have to admit that stems mostly from me never having to be worried that I wouldn’t see a person like me – a white woman (even if only for the eye candy) – on a screen or in the future. (Though it is also in minor part because I don’t really watch a lot of futuristic / dystopia / utopia films in general).

But this lack of inclusion is what makes Afrofuturism so important and interesting! Because, much like I learned in my last AfAm Studies class about Black horror, this genre too is being reclaimed and rewritten. The idea of an apparently white utopian future is being challenged in really impactful ways and in various artforms – from movies and TV shows, to books and music. It’s been really fun to get introduced to artists I’ve never heard before (like Sun Ra) even if their sound isn’t really my thing. But it’s important to remember that it isn’t so much as whether I like the music or not, but about the way he challenged and changed the sound of music with (mostly) only his keyboard and how his style and imagery has had a lasting impact on musicians I do love – like Janelle Monáe! And now that I know what to look out for, I can see the references and callbacks – like the hooded mirrored faced entities present in both Sun Ra’s music videos and Janelle Monáe’s. I think its good to know what inspired some of my fave works of music and art – and the how and why of its creation.

[marietheran]

July reading:

Początek / The Beautiful Mrs. Seidenman: Incredible. Fantastic. I can see why it was praised so much. Not your run-of-the-mill ww2 novel. I was surprised at the strong consciousness of God portrayed in both the Christian and Jewish characters - ot all orthodox, but I don't know whether the ideas should always be treated as those of the author. I have no idea why they changed the title in English translation; the original one translates as "Beginning". Some sexual content, can't say how severe because I skipped those paragraphs. 4/5 and the one star docked for those mature elements, but they didn't bring me many problems.

Lala (by Jacek Dernhel): Hard to rate this one - I didn't finish it because something shocked me and I had mostly passed the bits that interested me already, but I liked the first ¾.

Elder Race: great concept; started off amazing, the ending was kind of rushed but I'll forgive it. The voice had an interesting vibe to it that I cannot exactly explain - the only word that comes to mind is fanfiction-y, but it's meant positively, it's a w good book in it's own right and I have no idea whay makes me classify it that way. Nothing inappropriate. In a modern adult book published by Tor.com. I don't know how that's possible. 4/5

The Blacker the Berry: Meh. Didn't enjoy, don't recommend. Opinion further dimmed by the presence of non-explicit but pervasive sexual content. 2/5

Panny z Wilka & Młyn nad Utratą (by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz): "No fireworks" as I would have said in the language the stories were written in. The former dragged and didn't interest me; the latter was at least fascinating in its depictions of the characters' spirituality though I don't know what the point was exactly. Featured a mostly-unconcerning depiction of a Black man, something of an achievement for the place and time period.

Złowić cie��: same author as Początek, but in no way as genius here. Have to try something else by him; hopefully that was not a one-off wonder. 1/5

Gar'Ingawi: a curious specimen. As "Christian fantasy" (although I don't think it can be labeled that; it was published recently, but apparently written still behind the Iron Curtain) it wouldn't be that bad, but it didn't vow me. A pity because the setup is interesting and for a 20th century work, the non-pseudo-European setting fascinates. Proof of some ingenuity on the part of the author, since she would only have had Tolkien and CSL to go on and been lucky to have had the two; it would be interesting to see how the writing process compares to works written at the same time in the Anglosphere. Doubtful if I shall continue.

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover: Finally, the famous novelisation! Yes, it's good. The dialogue is sometimes phrased awkwardly, and I cannot for the life of me tell what is happening during the battles but the rest is good. Palpatine is a very well-written villain; both cunning and making you almost believe he's a good person and working like the devil sometimes. (That one scene with the Faustian undertones though!) 4/5

Way Station by Clifford D. Simiak: I loved the first ⅓, but the plot developments and resolution were unbelievable and subject to deus-ex-machina of the worst sort. The supremely weird take on spirituality makes it hard for me to take the presented world seriously. A pity because there was a great deal of feeling in the first third, and while I don't think I've ever read a cozy fantasy, it felt like the adjective might define it well. No sexual content. Deaf girl presented somewhat stereotypically. 2.5/5

DNF:

Madame by Antoni Libera. Had sexual content, not interesting.

Sława i Chwała by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz. Not interested.

One or another of the essay/novels of J.M. Rymkiewicz. Had sexual content. But I knew it would be so and I did get a photo of the page or two of information I was actually looking for.

Probably some others.

[lex1nat0r]

Grimdark Magazine #37

I've been subscribed to Grimdark Magazine for years but my actual reading has been spotty at best. As someone with Opinions on "grimdark" I want to fix that, and so I'll try keeping up with the new issues by putting down my thoughts here. Let's see how it goes.

To be clear: this is mainly kvetching about genre. And also: not weighing in on whether any given story should be included in a "grimdark" magazine. I'm just fucking about, really.

Just looking at the short stories themselves unless I come across a review for a book I've actually read or an interview with an author I already know.

"The Last Wardog" by Michael R. Fletcher

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: GOOD DOG!

A dying dog-person does what they can to hold off the fanatical sorcerers and their obsidian golems from taking their city.

Starting off extremely strong. I did not plan this but we immediately have a story that exemplifies something I need in my grimdark: the wardog doesn't know if what they do will be enough to save the little girl they saw running for the safety of the castle, but it might. Excellent. My one quibble is the intercaps on "PackMaster" feels out of place. I, personally, myself, would have stylized it more as "pack-master".

"Zero Sum" by Laurell Hightower

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: New money

A woman in a hypercapitalist hellscape tries to buy electricity so her brother doesn't die.

Stories that read more as depressing worldbuilding exercises are grimdark sure enough. Not what I think of when I think grimdark, but it fits. And it's sure gory enough to count. The story is good and perfect for this format. Fantastic ending.

"Adrift" by Gemma Amor

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: Lost at sea

A woman is adrift with two crewmates and one supernatural creature.

Apparently inspired by Poe's MS in a Bottle, which I have not read. This is a good story, but a good horror story. Not grimdark. That's quibbling over genre, yes, which is what I'm doing here. It's an issue of scale, really. What's happening here is a one-off event, not part of a larger world or system. When the terrible thing that's happening is happening to you either randomly or for your sins, that's horror. When it's systemic, that's grimdark.

"The Long, Slow Courtship of Mr. Death and Famishista" by Sunyi Dean

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: The thinnest of margins

A hunger artist has a courtship with Death.

Ah you see, this one almost disqualifies for grimdark based on the scale principle. But the way Famishista is apparently inspiring others to be like her, and the accusing finger pointing at society for encouraging it (and the acknowledgement of Death from third parties), there's something there. There is a system at work here. Maybe difficult to recognize as grimdark because it's too close to magical realism, it looks too much like our real world. Ha-ha. The implications.

"My Oracles at the End of the World" by Kameron Hurley

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: Damned spot

A post-apocalyptic twist on an old story.

I wouldn't classify the original as grimdark, but by shifting the setting to be post-apocalyptic it manages to get there, in my estimation. The original feels historical, and therefore we can imagine the comforting arc of history taking hold after the story has wound down. There's no such certainty post apocalypse - we get no real sense of how well the wider world is actually doing. Well, there's hints that the old order still exists or is reasserting itself, gently implying that maybe history is on the path to repeating itself. Which, history being cyclical, I'd still classify as grimdark.

"Birth of a Demonologist" by Cameron Johnston

GRIMDARKNESS RATING: A foolish bargain

A woman makes a deal with a demon.

Apparently a prequel to The Maleficent Seven, a book I've not read but has been on my list since I saw it mentioned on Grimdark Magazine's website. I want to read it even more now. However! While this tale is firmly dark fantasy, I hesitate to call it grimdark. Sure there's a Hell with demons in it, but no implication that it's an active existential threat to the non-hell parts of the world. There's plenty about the Powerful abusing the Powerless, which hits the systemic aspect and gets it close, but overall I feel that what's presented here in the text isn't enough to push it over into full grimdark. It's a difficult call for me. Judgement on The Maleficent Seven itself will wait until I actually read that novel, and maybe that will retroactively change my rating of this story.

Update: I finally got around to reading The Maleficent Seven. The verdict here stands.

GRIMDARK MAGAZINE #37 OVERALL GRIMDARKNESS RATING:

GRIM: BORDERLINE

DARK: YES

[jim-fetter-illustrations]

Monster Love!

τέρας φιλία,

from the greek meaning literally "Monster Love".

So somewhere down the road in human history there were some who thought about it, Monster Loving anyway.

So this ain't any new wave thing having to do with just the Millennial generation born between 1981 and 1996, or the newest Gen Z who were born between 1997 and 2012.

Nope, we've been loving monsters since there were monsters it seems..........

Ya see, apparently this Monster Loving thing is classified as a paraphilia, ... and rather than view the condition as a kinkey Hutzpah, defenders of monster loving believe it allows people to see beauty outside of societal standards, like hideously disfigured human beings that look like a monster, or those of an alternative lifestyle the dominant religious beliefs deem evil or of the devil's realm, like witches use to be, and I must confess I've seen some witches i'd love to conjure with (Lol)...... and among other things, it has been suggested that monsters can function as an escapist fantasy for some women, since the monster is able to embody masculine attributes without presenting itself as a man who is reluctant to buying you dinner first.

We got millions of people writing books, millions of cosplayers gathering at conventions wearing costumes and fashion accessories to represent their favorite monster character, and we make thousands of movies about Monster love, so there's millions of people that can't get enough of it,....... and that's why halloween is soooooooooooo popular, and even more than Christmas according to recent surveys!

Yeah, and we might not be the smartest animal on this earth, but we do have vivid imaginations more than any other animal, that's for sure.

I love the whole Halloween genre, and not just because I was born in October,.... well that's part of it, but I just like the whole entertaining and food thing accompanying Halloween which gives me joy much more than Christmas ever did,....... but each to their own I guess and we are all different in what we consider our comforts to be,....... but I'll take a Rubenesque women any day over a monster thank you very much, Lol

[herembers]

I hope this doesn’t come off the wrong way but I love how you write for all the ditzy clumsy but so so sweet girls. The girly girls and the hopelessly romantic soft girls. Most of the those whom you write for could easily be seen as and sometimes are classified as annoying and generally the weak female protagonist. And of course being a no nonsense do it yourself girl boss is always nice to see being represented in female characters. But deep down I’ve always craved the tenderness and giddiness and that part of me purrs whenever I read your stories. It’s like being able to live out my childhood fantasies with a Prince Charming (mugen and and L in their own ways lol, definitely Leon) as an adult and I think it’s so magical how you’re able to do it (effortlessly no less!). The girls are so charming and adorable and it’s like! Yes! That’s what it’s all about! Sometimes I just want characters to be a little careless and dumb because I know her fictional man is there and will do nothing short of throwing off the earth’s axis to protect her. I don’t really have the skillful and talented capacity you possess with words and emotions but I hope you know that I love everything you write— from the characters to the execution and dialogue. It truly is an honor to read your work and I hope one day you consider becoming some sort of author or writer. At the very least I hope you never give up on it because the devotion to your craft is clearly apparent to any and all who read. Thank you! 🥹

Oh anon, how do I convey how much this message means to me? This really, truly touched me.

Romance that appeals to me can essentially be boiled down to a heroine saying: I want to be heard, loved, and validated. It’s a common fantasy to desire protection too—having someone jump to defend our weaknesses when we can’t. We have to be strong. We have to put up walls. I’ve talked about this interview with bell hooks before and I love what she says:

She bristles at the notion that the books set women up for disappointment and promote unrealistic fantasies about being rescued. "Only a crazy person doesn't want to be rescued," hooks says. Romance readers aren't stupid; they simply take from these books what they need at a given time.

I endeavor to write heroines that aren’t punished for their perceived frailty and sensitivity; keeping a soft heart often requires more strength than it takes to have a hardened one. She deserves a hero that will cherish that.

Thank you for taking the time to send this message 🥹♥️ I’m writing for you too.

[molination]

book recommendations for social studies x english project

originally i wanted to read joy luck club by amy tan for this essay/project however apparently its classified as a memoir by the teachers (even though its not based off of anybody but amy tan's family experience, but the connection is so vague you can't tell when you read the book) so uh while i convince my teachers for me to read joy luck club can somebody recommend me books lmaoo.

here are the requirements:

novel

realistic fiction/historical fiction

not science fiction or fantasy (unless i can convince the teachers to give me permission)

preferably less than 500 pages

has to connect to a social issue

however preferably an issue i can speak about for example i kind of don't want to read the hate u give because ive never experienced racism faced by black people and i don't feel comfortable writing about it as if i knew

epical if its about chinese ppl ( i love chinese ppl) but its fine if anything else

[heywriters]

What's your thoughts on New Weird fiction? And do you have any advice on how to write in that genre?

(If the second answer is against your ask policy, it's alright if you only answer the first one. Thank you.)

"New Weird"?

Didn't know that term, so I had to look it up. Turns out, that's the genre of one of my favorite book series, The Southern Reach Trilogy!

It's like nightmare fiction. Trippy, angsty, which-way-is-up fiction. I could not put the first book, Annihilation, down. When I did, my brain was messed up, I felt abnormal and unsafe, convinced my reality was actually crawling with strangely hostile energy. It was awesome. However, I would have to prepare for the melancholic anxiety it put me through if I chose to read it all again.

I know it's "new" but tons of old weird stuff is coming to mind now. First, stuff from the '60s my mother would describe as "nightmarish" or "you had to be high to enjoy it." Then the grim nightmare of Metamorphosis by Kaftka, the opium-addled adventures of Alice in Wonderland. Can I throw "Miss Peregrine's Home..." into the new weird pile? It is perhaps more fantasy than new weird, but it's also more horror/freak-show than magical. Plus, I loved the first book and my tastes are apparently quite weird.

There are so many movies I'd label new weird too, like Jupiter Ascending. So much stuff I can classify now!

Advice for Writing New Weird

It's described as a genre that flips science fiction and fantasy tropes on their heads, sometimes satirically. From that, I say be a reader of spec fic first. Know your tropes so you can twist them into terrifying and absurd shapes. Be willing to commit to the most ridiculous, strange ideas that come to mind. Then take them seriously (or ridiculously).

Be comfortable with discomfort. New weird is often dark and disconcerting. Establish an air of eeriness that will have no rational solution. Unlike horror and thriller where we know we will see the monster at the end or that the trauma will be resolved, new weird stays weird and rarely supplies a come-down. If anxiety is something you struggle with, have ways to come down yourself after each writing session.

New weird stories do not need to explain why they are weird. They use logic sparingly to suspend disbelief in places where reality must be hyperreal to contrast the dreaminess that will follow. Places that hold the story and theme together may need a semblance of stability and relatability to the reader, but mostly the point is that there is no logic, at least not a familiar one. Logic in new weird is entirely up to the author, like their own private language. The reader has to accept that there may never be a satisfying resolution, and be satisfied with open endings and unexplained phenomena.

Emotional catharsis is in high demand. At least, that's what I enjoy about new weird. Experiencing intense, galaxy-brain-meme levels of emotion seems to be a thing for new weird characters. Describing those emotions and what causes them may be difficult for some writers, or great inner exploration for others. When logic, reality, and other factors normally used to tether readers to a story/character are missing, emotion becomes the most relatable tool a writer can employ.

There are worse things than death. Characters in new weird typically go through bizarre transformations, horrifying circumstances, and mind-altering states. The question is often asked, "Is it worse to fall asleep in death, or to live forever as a lonely, deformed monster with warped memories of being human?" and the answer is always "Deformed monster of loneliness! With tentacle wings! And a drinking problem! And distant memories of a happier life where they were a human mother! And those aren't even their memories!" (Now I'm thinking of Lily from Fallout: New Vegas and it's making me sad).

TL;DR --- Be prepared for anxiety and chaos and strong emotions. Stick to a storyline, please, but overall go where the weird takes you.

—

+ Please review my pinned Ask Policy before sending in your ask. Thank you.

+ I'm moving to another state and the process is taking up all my time and money 😥. If you'd be so kind as to Buy Me a Coffee on ko-fi, I'd really, genuinely appreciate it. Trying my best to stay on top of this blog, but might need to take a break for a while...

[staysuki]

5. PHOBIA

—living your entire life as a regular mortal, a hard adjustment comes into your life as you're suddenly thrown into a world of fantasy and magical beings. in a school built specifically to train magic, chaos ensues as you try to navigate through a new supernatural life.

warnings: extreme violence, blood, mentions of su*c*de (off-hand comment), fighting. (i'm not the best at writing fantasy so idk how well this reads). probably lots of errors because tumblr keeps fucking up the format + barely proofread cuz i can't keep editing the post.

word count: 5k

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holy fuck.

that can’t even fully encapsulate the bizarreness you’re currently feeling right now and how much you constantly feel like hiding away in a corner or pinching yourself awake hoping everything you’ve witnessed in the past week is some sick, cruel joke your mind is playing on you or a hyper realistic fever dream.

“y/n?” minnie snaps you alert as your mind drifts off to a safe place, but alas, she has to put you back to reality—or at least, what you think it is.

“yeah?” you ask back, your pristine white uniforms seemingly sparkling in the celestial lighting of your dormitory.

“yeah?” you ask back, your pristine white uniforms seemingly sparkling in the celestial lighting of your dormitory.

“did you receive a trial notif?” she inquires, though your puzzled expression seems to have answered her question.

“did you receive a trial notif?” she inquires, though your puzzled expression seems to have answered her question.

she pulls out her phone and shows her dashboard on the school’s website, showing her that she’ll be going against a girl from the evil campus.

“do they always pair off the campuses against each other?” you scan the device curiously but minnie shakes her head.

yuqi’s head pops out from the kitchen, answering for her, “nope, i got some chick from here.” she says in between chews of breakfast.

“i didn’t get one,” you sigh in relief as you check your own school account, thanking the school that at least they didn’t send you to a possible death sentence.

“lucky~” yuqi singsonged, which you agree to.

you excuse yourself and go back to your bedroom for a few moments of trancing peace, pulling out a notebook that serves as your lifeline in remaining sane. keeping track of every single information that you’ve managed to learn in the past days you’ve been here.

the rules about acting proper seem to be enforced quite strictly, everyone must look pristine at all times, curfew must be followed always, students can’t cross over to the opposite campus unless permitted, power usage isn’t prohibited as long as it isn’t directly a harm to others (you click your tongue as you remember being late to class when you couldn’t open your locker to get your books after realizing that lee felix’s vines covered the hinges shut—you remember having to call yuqi to pry it off).

about the division between evil and good, there really isn’t a rule that you can’t interact with the opposite campus’ students, but you’re only able to interact in person during lunchtime where the students gather on the campus food street and during shared classes (which rarely happens). apparently there are certain days when students are allowed to roam out to the city but you’re yet to experience that.

han jisung, albeit nice, is still somewhat of a mystery. the fact that he’s classified as a blue doesn’t help his case—as well as the fact that you haven’t seen him use his powers much yet—, but you find it nice that he’s so accommodating in helping you. the only sneak peek you’ve ever seen him do is use echolocation, which, in the grand scheme of this school, isn’t really all that impressive.

besides, how could he be classified as harmful with such an ability?

you flip through your other notes, checking out the other important figures you’ve encountered. apparently, there’s a lot of “iconic figures” in the school as of right now, students fawn over them and many people seem to think they are destined to be famous in the future or become a legendary hero/villain.

one of those people is hwang hyunjin from the evil campus. you’ve only seen him up close once but when you did, you felt like taking his hand in marriage right then and there. turns out, it was an effect of his ability—such overflowing magnitude of control over people’s emotions that it happens innately, drawing out a desire for him. after learning the fact, you felt… intimidated. fearful, even. the thought of having someone sway your emotions just by existing is scary—you can only wish that he isn’t using it for malicious intent. that’s when you realize why violets have a classification of their own: and hwang hyunjin is the best example of it.

you definitely don’t want to go anywhere near him anymore. yuqi pointed out that he could probably charm someone into offing themselves if he ever so chooses to do so, and you can’t even imagine the thought of anyone being that wicked—but apparently, some people like that exist, you wonder whether hwang hyunjin is one of them.

most of all, the only black-classified student. whoever the orb is, you want to know more about them. it doesn’t seem like all the other students are worried about him as a person, but more so his capabilities. though his classification further entails that he has chosen to harm people. whoever they may be, you hope you won’t get on their bad side.

eunha seems to be spearheading the council and seems hands-on with her duties, to the point that you don’t even know her fellow members yet. turns out, she’s your typical witch/mage, but a good one at that, morally and magically—you’re glad that she’s classified as a yellow despite apparently being strong enough to be a red.

the classification system has helped you a lot in figuring out other people, it’s a one-sided way to judge them but as yuqi might suggest, perhaps wickedness isn’t the only basis of the classification system. though that’s probably you being biased because you can’t imagine yuqi ever purposely harming anyone.

maybe she accidentally gripped someone’s hand too hard or accidentally bumped into a vending machine that crushed someone—though you don’t even know whether accidental casualties count for the classification system.

everything about the system of this school is a bit too mysterious for your liking, especially the fact that many (even the locals) doesn’t know the answer to your questions, or perhaps they choose not to divulge any information.

your mind hasn’t even considered the fact that maybe han jisung is lying or hiding something.

but would yuqi and minnie would?

you’ve known each other for a week but they’ve been a great support system to you, and the first day of meeting has been overall pleasant, given the way that you all so easily connected despite being so different. you’re glad you have them by your side.

you chew on your lip as you scour through the other pages, classes all seem to be categorized by each person’s ability. hence why minnie and yuqi don’t share most classes together and that you got the generalized end of the stick (though rosé mentioned that your schedule is tentative until you manifest your abilities).

speaking of rosé, she seems to be well-respected around campus but you’re also a bit unsure of her abilities. all you know is that she’s also classified as a blue.

currently, there’s almost more than 300, almost 400, students in school and 3 out of all of that number are earthers. you, lee minho, and christopher bang.

you’ve seen christopher—or chan, as others like to call him—during lunchtime but you often avoid his friend group because he seems to hang out with hwang hyunjin quite a lot. he’s classified as a red, though you’re also yet to see his abilities, but apparently it’s something very explosive (that certain note in your notebook has question marks because you’re not even sure about that information and what it meant). but like lee minho, he’s been in school for two years now.

both of the other earthers having a year more in experience than you, you ought to speak to them for more information. when you asked yuqi and minnie about it, apparently the school doesn’t have a designated year duration, and that the school will only release you back to the outside if they deem you worthy—though the minimum academic stay should be at least three years.

after scouring for more information, you’ve learned that the top two smartest students on campus are both in the evil campus—a yellow and a green. you haven’t gotten their names yet but you’re intrigued enough to want to talk to them and perhaps get some more answers that an average student isn't able to give you.

a knock pulls you out of your stupor and you see minnie pop her head in your room, “it’s show time.”

you sigh, hiding your notebook under your mattress before leaving the comforts of your room. walking through the halls always made you feel… sick. everything feels like it’s overflowing with arcane energy—the white marbled architecture seems to glow and sparkle without any electric lights needed to give it a shine, the whole place looks like a fairy tale to the point that it feels fake.

like you’re in a movie set or something.

everything is bright, ethereal, and the students casually using their magic for convenience just throws you off.

at the corner of your vision, you see a small fairy flying around, a student hovering over the floor to travel from one place to another. the students also often vary in races—dragonborns, elves, dwarves, sirens, and etc.

looking back on it now, had it not been for the effect of the blossom, your mind probably would’ve exploded with all the sudden exposure to supernaturality.

“is the colosseum gonna cram 400 students all at once?” you ask mindlessly as you see a circular arena building in the distance.

“nope, they do it in like, groups of 50 at a time, i think. other students often watch through the viewing room so that they don’t have to occupy physical space inside the colosseum,” minnie explains and you nod.

“wait, would i be allowed inside?” you ask, knowing that you don’t really have a reason to be there.

“that’s fine, we’ll vouch for you,” yuqi pats you on the back and true enough, you were able to sneak in with them, the council members monitoring the entrance were nice enough—though yuqi threatening to squash their head probably didn’t help your case, thankfully, eunha gave you a free pass.

you look at the other two people with eunha, perhaps fellow council members—a cat-like looking guy with silver white hair and a petite woman with long luscious hair and bushy eyebrows. they both seem more intimidating than eunha’s friendly elegance but you feel drawn towards their presence, wondering what kind of abilities they have to be in the council—or whether they’re merit is judged on other abilities.

so far, your only favorite part has to be the “figuring out other people’s powers” part. minnie calls you lucky, saying that because you weren’t used to such a world, you get to look at it in an awed curious perspective because she mentioned that most of the time, some students often feel insecure about their powers, always comparing their own to someone else’s who has better.

you understand the sentiment, comparing yourself to people better than you is something that’s common anywhere, you can only imagine that the addition of another skill, powers, just make it worse.

she even mentioned that she’s often jealous that hyunjin has much more effective charm abilities than her despite it being in her blood to be an enchantress, though she casts that aside at the thought of just drooling over him.

looking around the spacious colosseum, you see the bleachers filled with students, although there’s still plenty enough space unoccupied—probably because this was designed to hold the whole campus body and only an eighth of the population is currently in it.

on a special platform, the professors and the headmistress are keeping watch while paramedics are stationed on nearby corners by the arena grounds. you recognize a few faces in the distance—some fellow classmates while others are some evil students that you often encounter in the food street.

your entry catches the attention of chan, his eyes immediately zeroing in on you as you walk with your friends to a seat. his face shows signs of intrigue and curiosity, however, his gaze was too strong for you to keep holding, so you immediately looked away, not wanting to make him think that you were ogling him. though with hwang on his side, perhaps you’d have a reason to look over their direction. but with the way his gaze gives you a cold, chilling feeling, you presume that you probably won’t be looking over to him anytime soon again.

in his friend group, there’s also yang jeongin, the ever-so-infamous man who got himself from a green to a blue in under one day. his eyes shine with a mischievous glint as he sneers with a malicious undertone—but maybe that’s just you overthinking it. had you not been informed of who he is, you might think he’s your regular bubbly boy-next-door.

“damn, we got some strong ones in here,” yuqi comments, looking around, though she doesn’t seem all too worried about it.

“scared?” minnie teases, making yuqi nudge her with an 'as if'—much to minnie’s demise as she folds over on the bleachers, clutching her arm.

“by the gods! woman, control your strength!” she yells out making yuqi apologize with a sheepish smile as she scratches her head.

“yeah i don’t think she’s worried at all,” you say, wincing as you see the nasty bruise that’s already forming on the siren’s arm.

“i mean, it’s not that i’m being egotistical or anything—my abilities are very basic but it’s because of that fact that i know i won’t be paired with someone that’s way out of my league.” she says with a shrug which you nod to. makes sense.

with a sudden booming of fireworks, the colosseum turns lively and vibrant, the plain interior suddenly sprouting beautiful flowers and shrubbery—everyone turns to felix who just flashes everyone a smile. “you’re not even supposed to be here yet,” you hear someone shout over the distance, making everyone laugh including him, but nonetheless, the scenery does match the other decorations that magically popped up.

"that guy's gonna accidentally kill someone with a pollen allergy and get bumped into a blue," yuqi comments.

the whole place looked festive as town music fills everyone’s ears, and it actually makes you feel excited.

“they’re setting the tone so that it’s not too somber. wouldn’t want to make it seem like a killing ground,” minnie comments.

the trials start, matched students go down by pair to spar against each other and it’s always a delight to watch, though you notice that an invisible safety barrier is cast upon each student before starting to spar for safety reasons.

there’s the typical spellcasters, some elementals, psychics, and then other students that have much more unique skill sets. you definitely couldn’t keep your eyes off the ongoing spars, even almost envisioning what you’d look like once you manifest your own abilities.

you watch with intent as one of the first people you recognize go to the center of the arena—hwang hyunjin. though his match barely lasted 15 seconds as a simple command made the student throw down his white cloth: indicating a surrender. once again, your mind echoes back to yuqi’s comment and how truly powerful hwang is.

soon enough, minnie’s name is called, you two both cheer for her as she goes down the steps. suddenly, the arena emanates a bright light before it subsides, the grounds suddenly turned into a sparkling blue lake.

“fuck yeah,” you hear minnie exclaim as she dives into the water, her form immediately shifting to it’s mystical properties.

her black hair turns a vibrant red, and her eyes shine with a purple sheen. her tail is a magnificent iridescent green with a semi red gradient, her scales bouncing off the glow of the water—she looks less human, more like herself, but the beauty of it is captivating.

“i heard she’s from some noble siren family or something,” yuqi says in between chews of her croissant. you didn’t miss the “no food or drinks” sign outside but you chose not to comment on it.

“really? she does seem very.. majestic,” you say back in awe without turning your eyes away from the sparkling waters.

on the other side of the colosseum, where most of the evil students chose to sit (the unspoken divide between the two campuses definitely didn’t fail to catch your attention as the colosseum seating arrangement are divided by those wearing pristine white uniforms on your side, and pitch black uniforms on the other), minnie’s pair slowly walks to the arena, her foot being carried by the water as she steps into it, hovering over the grounds.

“waterbender,” yuqi commentates, making you nod.

so they paired minnie with someone who controls water, seems pretty straightforward enough.

everyone watches as the two circle around each other. minnie starts to open her mouth, a few students instinctively covering their ears to block out the siren’s song but a magical sheen suddenly illuminates the surrounding of the arena, muting the battle ground on your side.

“what was that?” you ask as the sheen disperses in the air.

“forcefield barrier, it keeps the abilities from affecting the crowd—it normally functions as a regular shield but since minnnie’s power relies on sound, it blocks the audio in place too,” yuqi explains, the other students removing their hands from their ears in relief.

you watch as minnie's opponent, start to lose hold of the water, her eyes glossing over as the siren’s voice clouds her mind. but in a moment of quick-wit, she bends the waters to cover her ears, gaining clarity back.

your mouth formed an O at the maneuver, sometimes being powerfully strong isn’t enough, it helps that one is smart enough to know how to use their abilities to the max. you try to watch closely, remembering tiny details to write down in your notebook later.

perhaps this was also one of the merits of watching the sparring; you get to learn various battle strategies showcased by students who know what they’re doing.

you watch minnie click her tongue, rolling her eyes before diving deeper underwater. however, the waterbender seems to follow her movements, creating an air bubble wherever she swims to rid her of water. although minnie can control the liquid a tiny bit, it isn’t as effective as the bender’s.

“pfft, she’s definitely losing this one,” yuqi chuckles, watching her friend struggle against the evil student.

soon enough, the other girl catches up to the siren, lifting her up from her territory and ridding her of the water. the liquid whips into strips of rope, subduing the siren. though as the announcer almost declares the waterbender's victory, minnie’s face suddenly contorts into one of pure anger, her eyes boring straight into her opponent as it flashes a menacing black—before she could react, the evil girl suddenly loses control of her body, her paralyzed physique suddenly dropping to the water as she loosens her magic’s grip on minnie.

the siren didn’t hesitate to dive down and pull the girl deeper into depths.

“the eyes of medusa,” yuqi starts, “only a few sirens have that rare ability—this mermaid girl is stupid for revealing it so early on.”

you listen to her commentary, and you look back on the other pairs, realizing that most of them probably didn’t fight to their fullest ability. yuqi is right, it helps to keep parts of yourself a secret, in that way, others won’t be able to use it against you.

the arena shines back into its former state, revealing a human form minnie passed out beside her own opponent. the paramedics immediately run towards the two girls, levitating them away from the grounds.

“seems like she can’t control it yet,” you hear someone whisper to their friend behind you, pertaining to minnie’s trump card.

"probably arcane exhaustion," their friend responds.

a few other pairs pass by until it was finally time for yuqi to be called. though instead of going straight down to the grounds, she walks near the professors’ seats, whispering something to them. you see them think over her comment before nodding.

she shoots you a thumbs up, though you don’t really know what it was for, before she goes down to the arena.

she faces off against a fellow good student who can control the wind—quite an odd pairing, you think to yourself.

as the two enter the arena, a junkyard seems to materialize in place. the grounds having ruined cars and other large furniture. this was probably yuqi’s request because as soon as the professors signal the start of the battle, she didn’t hesitate to pick up a nearby fridge with casual ease and hurl it towards the airbender who easily redirects the giant projectile.

yuqi’s ability is simple, as she said so herself. the girl, blessed with the power of the stone giants, has super brute strength. though she jokingly says that she can crack someone’s spine with a single flick, there’s probably some truth to her words knowing she’s classified as a blue.

without having to even move from her side of the arena, yuqi doesn’t stop throwing whatever her hands can land on. a car flies straight towards the audience, making the watchers flinch but the forcefield prevents it from landing on the bleachers.

despite having a back and forth with the airbender for minutes now, yuqi doesn’t seem out of breath. however, she’s out of things to throw so she starts making a run towards the other student.

she’s immediately met by a strong gust of wind that threatens to keep her in place, but yuqi strengths her way through the attack. a single clap makes her hand boom, enough to disperse the wind and enough to make your ears ring.

yuqi laughs as she gains the upper hand so her pair turns into defensive mode, fleeing from her reach and using her abilities to keep the projectiles away from yuqi. tired of the chase, the strong girl crouches down and unearths a huge chunk of debris from the ground before hurling it to the unexpecting bender.

the airbender tries to stop the oncoming attack but her wind only ends up breaking the rock into chunks. as she focuses on redirecting the larger pieces away from her direction, the smaller chunks hit her, the dust getting into her eyes. she momentarily loses sight, waving her hands like crazy, hoping that she’s protecting herself well but the opening was enough for yuqi to run to a nearby car and hurl it straight towards the girl.

the car slams onto the airbender, making her crash to the arena’s fence.

“holy shit she’s crazy!” you hear someone gasp.

a loud gong signifies the end of the match, declaring yuqi as the winner as the pieces of junk disperses in thin air, showing that the girl is unscratched and unharmed despite being totalled, thanks to the protective shield.

the damages to the arena done by yuqi starts to repair itself as the two exit the center. yuqi pats the girl on the back, a boisterous laugh coming out of her lips as she offers a show of sportsmanship, but the bender seems to flinch away from her.

“dude, that was so unfair, they matched me with an elemental,” she comments as she sits down beside you. before you could comment, the next pair caught your attention—jisung and jeongin.

“ooh, this is gonna be good,” yuqi comments.

“did i miss anything?” you hear minnie appear at the side, coming back from the clinic.

“you okay?” you ask her and she just shoots you a thumbs up.

“just wore myself out,” she says as she sits back down.

“do any of you know jisung’s ability?” you ask and the two girls shake their head.

you turn your entire attention to the center, intrigued excitement filling your veins as a loud gunshot indicates the start of the match.

jeongin immediately crouches down to a runner’s starting position, eyes deadlocked into jisung who calmly puts on his headphones. in the blink of an eye, you see jeongin’s body disappear—wait no, he’s just too fast.

in a flash, he’s almost zeroed in on jisung, but the latter fires back, a red flash emits from his hand for a split-second, making jeongin fly backwards. although the barrier deafens out the sound, you can assume that it emanated a loud booming sound based on the small tremors of the aftershock—as well as the fact that blood starts to drip from jeongin’s ears.

though annoyed, the fast runner goes back up on his feet and speeds straight to jisung. the ever-so calm and collected man takes a deep breath, listening to the music in his ears before he mirrors jeongin’s speed, the red light that flashed from his hands now flashing on his feet.

“wow, that’s such a unique power,” minnie states.

“and weirdly very modern,” yuqi adds.

“what is it?” you ask, wondering how the headphones correlate to his abilities.

“probably sound manipulation, the way he’s using it is so smart though. using it to buff himself,” yuqi explains.

minnnie nods at the side, “the speed is probably just little bursts of energy though, it still isn’t a match to yang’s natural speed plus the fact that his arcane focus are headphones, it’s easy to rid him of power.”

it’s hard to fully see the two men just darting around on the ground, tackling each other every once in a while and making the other fly to the fences with the force acquired from their speed but minnie is right, jeongin has the upper hand on the match however, jisung is able to easily match his opponent's level.

a few moments later and the bruises pile up on the men, but none of them seem to want to stop. it wasn’t until one of the professors set off a whistle, indicating a tie, did the match stop. jeongin seemed pissed, fully knowing that he could’ve won the match. he storms off the arena with a glare to jisung, pushing away the paramedics that offer to help him with his wounds.

meanwhile, jisung seems heavily exhausted, removing his headphones to massage his ears before letting the healers whisk him away to the clinic.

“he really pushed himself there,” minnie points out, calling it arcane exhaustion.

“probably wants to knock down yang a peg or two,” yuqi shrugs.

the last pair garners a huge gasp from the audience, and you immediately turn to the two for context.

“lee minho,” minnie whispers, “he’s the orb.”

your eyes widen in surprise—the other earther?

on cue, you hear whisperings from all over the place, and you even see the evil students hunch over their own gossip as well.

“i thought he’s not allowed to participate?”

“they paired him against chan?! those two are gonna massacre each other.”

“wait, has he changed now?”

“maybe the professors nerfed his abilities.”

confusion, shock, fear, intrigue.

a mixture of emotions flow through the crowd as chan and minho stare each other down—though the latter looks like he doesn’t even want to be in that position.

“i’m sorry in advance.” you hear minho say with a somber tone, though chan, the other earther, laughs dryly, minho seems to be genuine at his forewarning.

“don’t be too cocky orb, i’m not afraid of you.”

crackling bolts of lightning spark from chan’s body, starting from the tip of his fingers and spreading all the way to his body. he slams his fist on the ground, making the electricity travel through the floor, cracking it on it’s path, before closing in on minho’s location.

however, before the attack could get to him, minho sighs in defeat. you see him raise his hand slowly before suddenly—

everything is pitch black, your consciousness slipping away.

taglist: @caratinylyfe @pikapikapikaachuu @suhnnyskiess @beaann

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @starrylino @ninjaleeknow @trials--error @hey-i-really-miss-you @caratinylyfe @soobin-chois @mochisnlix

thoughts and feedback pls 🤲

[writingwoe]

existing works

nobodies hero, which has a separate blog

arson and other crimes

urban fantasy

a ripple of power is causing magical disturbance in a small rural town on the coast of western australia, and 5 young adults have found themselves searching for the cause

how to break a curse

fantasy

the tale of several people setting out on separate quests to find someone to break the curses placed upon them, along the way they all bump into one another and it becomes a joint adventure

the house on heron avenue

found family, romance, slice of life

the son of a rich family is disowned after a dramatic coming out at a family dinner and finds himself under the care of a group of queer adults, living in a big house on heron avenue.

shows various types of relationships, including a D/s couple

second hand riches

urban fantasy

a reclusive author discovers his families spell books have been going missing, and tracks them to the apartment next door. unfortunately dragons aren't quite capable of giving things back.

partners in crime

supernatural

there's monsters in town and apparently the first line of defense is a girl with a hockey stick and a boy with a stupid sense of humour who can turn into a wolf.

jock x nerd, except the jock falls first <3

seafoam

pirates!

this one doesnt have much of a plot, its mostly snippets and vibes but i love the crew; especially ikka

dont play with dead things

supernatural, romance

a necromancer looking for a way to bring his mother back from the dead seeks the help of the town freak

ft. morticia and gomez addams levels of devotion

there's something in the water

idk, what genre do superheros fit into?

4 teenagers find themselves developing superpowers after being exposed to contaminated water, and with great power comes great responsibility right? wrong.

the blackout files

also superheroes/heist, romance, i think powers classify it as an urban fantasy?

a series of interwoven stories set in a universe full of people with different powers and abilities, where superheroes are as normal to society as first responders.

(proper summary to be added at a later date)

copy cat

urban fantasy, crime, romcom

max delaware is summoned by an old friend, homicide detective niamh bane, to get his perspective on her latest case: the Da Vinci Butcher. But there's something not right about the crime scene, and the pair soon find themselves tracking down a much more elusive, and dangerous, serial killer known only as the Copy Cat.

Then, there's the head of forensics: oleander hemlock, a strange man with a complete lack of personal space, who refuses to leave max's thoughts.

DISCLAIMER: all of my writing focuses on queer characters and/or queer themes

pinterest board

[the-lightbulb-and-the-octopus]

The Library At Mount Char...

... or the book I was apparently waiting for.

Actually, I hyped myself so much with this book. I bought it like... around Christmas 2020? Maybe even earlier. And I didn’t read it because it seemed like a good book. I’m noticing a pattern here...

Anyway! First thing first, I read the French translation and it was good. Also I think that the French summary is better than the English one, if only because it’s shorter and much more mysterious - which fits the story, trust me.

I think it’s classified as urban fantasy and horror at least? As the notion of horror can greatly differ from people to people, I’ll just say that I didn’t feel it. As for the urban fantasy, there are ‘magical’ (Carolyn would be so against that explanation) elements in a modern world so it ticks the boxes. But there are a lot (really, I stress it. A. Lot.) of potentially triggering things in there so... be ready. It’s not soft, it’s not lighthearted.

As for my feelings... I loved it. I lack the words to express how much fun I had. The year is only beginning, but I doubt that I’ll read anything better before it ends. The plot is dark and twisted, the characters are so morally objectionable and yet so relatable and you’re constantly playing with the story to see if you understand where it wants to take you (don’t worry, at least one character is as lost as you are). Everything is so strange, so different but it all makes sense on its own in the end. For my mind, that’s good writing.

[minor-solemnity]

Invention and Intrigue pt.3

Tag List: @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons​ @riddles-wifey @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute

“You know, my friends call me Tom.” He interrupts you, sounding faintly amused, a small, irritatingly handsome smile curling his lips.

“And that’s what we are? Friends?”

You start meeting him more regularly after that. He finds you after dinner most nights and you spend hours in abandoned classrooms, researching and practising obscure forms of magic. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring any more fluffy animals for practical demonstrations. You swap theories and notes on cursed objects; delve deep into the histories of generational bloodline curses; and break down spells - both light and dark - into their most base forms to learn their mechanisms and constructions.

Honestly, it’s strange how easy it is to sit in companionable silence reading from the ancient tomes that Riddle has somehow managed to source. Riddle is patient and oddly kind when he explains aspects of magical theory that you don’t understand; he’s a good teacher. Given his reputation for being a studious, polite, and unendingly fair young man you don’t think this should shock you, but it does nonetheless. 

More interesting is the gratification that lights his expression when he succeeds in performing a spell for the first time, and the morbid curiosity he has for everything that could be classified as ‘dark’. You think that you should be concerned or nervous or scared but it’s difficult to summon those (very sensible, very reasonable) feelings when you are just as interested in what you’re discovering as he is. 

It’s nearly seven o’clock and you think you should probably be thinking about heading back to your common room in case Melanie starts to wonder where you are. Except… From where you’re sitting on the floor with a large, dark green blanket wrapped around your shoulders that Riddle had conjured for when when you’d complained about being cold, you can watch him without him noticing. You can study the way he curls over the book on legilimency he’s reading, head bowed, dark hair falling into his eyes and casting shadows along the sharp planes of his face. He pauses every so often to scribble down a thought or annotation and you watch the crease that forms on his forehead whenever he reaches a part of his reading that particularly interests him. He looks calm is the thing. Content. Peaceful. 

Unbidden, an image of him stretched out on a sofa, a book in his hands, you curled at his side, springs fully formed to the forefront of your mind. You can picture the way he might absently run a hand through your hair, or maybe it would be you tracing patterns against his chest… It’s a horrendously tempting portrayal of domesticity. You’re so lost in your fantasies that you don’t realise that you’ve been staring until he coughs politely and you’re brought thundering back to reality. He’s watching you with an expression that reads as part amusement and part consideration and you feel your cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny.

You get up and brush yourself off, folding the blanket over your arm and studiously ignore him. “I should… I need to get back. It’s getting late.” You say and are proud that your voice only wavers slightly. 

He hums softly in contemplation and nods. Once you’ve both gathered your things, he offers you his hand and you are reminded of the first time you’d spoken. You slumped against the wall, shivering and scared and him, holding his hand out to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Let me walk you back,” He says. Just as before, he doesn’t let go of your hand until you reach the entrance to your common room. When you try to return the blanket, he shakes his head and presses it back into your hands. “I conjured it for you. I’d like for you to keep it.” 

Just as before, he departs and you’re left holding the blanket, soft and warm and deep emerald green. Slytherin colours. His colours.

***

Three days later, you’re ready to take back every nice thought you’ve ever had about Riddle. You are seriously regretting ever having caught his attention. Sure, it’s been fun, you’ve learnt a lot of interesting things, and you’d be lying if you said that you’d not been enjoying getting know Riddle beyond the persona he puts forward to the rest of the school, but none of that can make up for the fact that he is leading you down into the bowels of the castle once more without a care in the world for your comfort or sanity.

“You don’t like the dungeons very much, do you?” He asks, taking in your jumpy demeanour and suspicious gaze with a sardonic smile. “Why is that, I wonder? Too scary for a good little girl like you?” The emphasis on the word ‘good’ serves both to underline the obvious sarcasm in his words and make your stomach clench in a way that is entirely inappropriate for the conversation at hand. You could curse yourself for the incredibly misplaced crush you’ve apparently developed.

You fold your arms over your chest and stare at the floor, unwilling to let him see how much his comment has affected you. You let out a shaky breath and murmur, “Self-preservation is not the same as being scared. Excuse me for not wanting to actively tempt fate and die in some godforsaken dungeon.” You snip, well aware that you’re being a little bit dramatic and not caring in the slightest. 

Riddle purses his lips together in a hard, thin line and it’s not difficult to see that you’re irritating him. “You seemed perfectly capable of defending yourself the last time you ventured down.”

“Just because I can defend myself doesn’t mean I want to have to.” You snap, following him through the door he’s holding open for you and glancing around in case this has all been some elaborate hoax Lestrange is waiting in the shadows to hex you to hell and back.

The door slams shut behind you and you whirl around, your wand outstretched. Riddle leans against the closed door, arms crossed, looking incredibly bored. “I would have hoped you’d have a little more trust in me by this point.” 

And well… He’s right, as much as it pains you to admit it. He’s only ever been kind to you - maybe a little condescending and arrogant at times, but that only serves to add to his charm. With a twinge of embarrassment, you stow your wand away and clench your jaw, unwilling to admit defeat quite so soon. “Yes, well, that was before you decided to lure me into the dungeons, Riddle. Forgive me for being—"

“You know, my friends call me Tom.” He interrupts you, sounding faintly amused, a small, irritatingly handsome smile curling his lips.

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You stare at him blankly. Because… Well. You’re not. Friends, that is. Up until a few weeks ago, Tom Riddle hasn’t spared you a second glance since first year and why would he? You are… Well, you’re you. Angry at the world, melodramatic, and apparently, a budding dark sorcerer. It’s strangely reassuring to realise that it’s these things that he likes about you.

“Why wouldn’t we be? We’ve been spending plenty of time together, we have similar interests, we know things about each other that no one else does,” He’s circling you now, sweeping closer and closer until he’s right in front of you, perched elegantly against one of the desks. “What else would you call us?” He sounds so… calm. Congenial. Like it’s the most obvious and simple thing in the world. Except that there’s nothing congenial about the heat that flickers in the depths of his eyes. 

He cocks his head to the side, as though considering something very carefully, and then reaches out and catches your hand. With the same surprising strength that he’d displayed the last time you’d been in the dungeons alone with him, he pulls you forwards. Velocity and inertia work in tandem and you stumble towards him, prevented from collapsing against his chest only by his hand that moves to clasp your waist. Unbidden, your hands move to rest on his thighs. You can feel the way his muscles tense under your touch and you wonder if he’s as affected by the sudden proximity as you are. You wonder if his heart is tripping over itself the way yours is. You wonder (and a distant part of your mind laughs at the ridiculousness of the thought even as you think it) if he wants you the way you find yourself wanting him: entirely. You want to wrap yourself around every part of him, insert yourself into every aspect of his being. You’ve never considered yourself to be a possessive person before; you might have to start reconsidering that now.

You feel, more than you hear, his short sharp intake of breath and he spreads his legs just enough to provide a space for you. You press forward, tucking yourself between his legs, hands on his thighs, emotion and heat and, god, want flooding through you with all the unstoppable force of a tsunami crashing over a seawall. His eyes flicker between yours as he brushes a lock of hair away from your eyes, tucking it carefully behind your ear. He tilts your head up and lowers his until his lips are barely grazing yours. There’s something almost tentative about the way he holds himself, as though he’s holding himself back. 

Nervous. You think he might be nervous. And isn’t that just the most delicious thought?

Your heart thrums wildly in your chest and your fingers tighten instinctively against the fabric of his trousers. “Definitely not friends,” You whisper against his lips before you finally give in to the want that’s been building inside of you for weeks. 

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)