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captain-huggy-bear · 20 days ago

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The Teacher's Always Right

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Your students badger you about your relationship status and you let slip you're dating a hockey player who plays for the Vancouver Canucks. They don't believe you, you're petty enough to arrange a school trip to Rogers Arena just to prove your point.

Notes: Very self-indulgent of me as someone who teaches teenagers for a living and regularly gets questioned on my relationship status. They really do bully you (affectionately).

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You're in the middle of teaching your high schoolers about the fur trade in colonial Canada, mid-speech, arms spread wide as you gesture to your powerpoint when a teenage voice interrupts you.

"Miss, are you married?" It's David, sat at the back, legs stretched out as far as he can reach them. He's ironically enough wearing a Canucks jersey, specifically Number 43...a very, very familiar number to you. As is the question. In your years of teaching this isn't the first time you've been interrupted to be questioned on your relationship status, in fact it happens multiple times a year. Each set of students eager to know why you're a miss and if you'll be a mrs soon and are going to be leaving them to have a baby. When you were single, the questions were usually why?

"No." You've gotten rather good at deflecting or at least not letting slip the reality of your relationship, usually finding out you're not single is enough for them, but there's something about David's attitude that screams persistant curiosity. It makes you wonder why you bother teaching your subject at all when he's more curious about your love life than History itself

"Do you have boyfriend?"

"Yes, does this have anything to do with British colonisation or the fur trade or....?" You lean back on your desk, board pen landing gently on the surface, knowing that you're not going to be free of this conversation for at least another 2 minutes.

"What's your boyfriend do?" You breathe a deep sigh and look around the room, you don't want to get into who your boyfriend is. It's not like its a well known fact that you're dating the captain of the Vancouver Canucks and you try to keep it that way. Not because you're ashamed but because its your private life, school and home, those are as separate as you can make them. It would be impossible to do that if everyone was talking about your relationship, although you know eventually it'll become more public.

Stacy from one of the desk by the windows chimes in this time, curiosity peaked, dragging her away from her current hobby of staring out the window in boredom, "C'mon, miss, it can't be that bad? What? Is he like unemployed or something?" She says while chewing loudly on a wad of gum.

"Gum in the bin, Stacy." Her chewing stops and she slumps as she stomps her way to your classroom bin, spitting the gum in with a roll of her eyes.

"So? Is he unemployed?" You decide to answer the question, only because Stacy actually did what you said this time. You hated gum in the classroom, mostly because it always ended up on the bottom of your shoes and made them stick to the floor as you walked. You wouldn't mind it so much if they could all just throw it away normally.

"No. He's got a job, a good job." A really good job, a ridiculously good job actually. You didn't talk money with Quinn much, but the reality was that he made an amount in a year that you would never make in a life time as a teacher.

"Sooo???" David interjects, leaning forward now in his seat, clearly not happy enough to just know your boyfriend isn't some unemployed bum.

"He's a hockey player."

"Like beer league?"

"No. Like NHL." You watch your classes faces in what feels like slow motion, the series of disbelieving looks, wide eyes and raised eyebrows that are quickly followed by a chorus of objections and claims that you can't be telling the truth.

"Nah, no way! You're not here, teaching us, and dating a guy who makes millions, nah." It's actually frustrating, it shouldn't be. You've literally had students throw tables at you and yet, the idea that they think you are a liar is what makes you frustrated. Is it really that hard to believe that you enjoy your job and don't want to scrounge off of your pro-athlete boyfriend? Or that hard to believe that you managed to snag a pro-athlete in the first place?

"You don't believe me?"

"Nah, like if you are, he's gotta be in some really bad team in the US." You're already formulating a plan to prove to your students that you're not lying and not dating a shit NHL player. Sure, the plan involves a lot more work for you, but the idea is in your head and you can't help but think that it'll be worth it.

"He's a Canuck." You smirk a little, knowing the mention of the local team would get a response. Most of the kids you teach go to at least one game a year or watch it on TV. Some have even seen you at the games, but you always sit in the stands like a regular fan. Mostly because Quinn can't really talk to you anyway when he's locked into a game. You'd serve as more of a distraction if you sat front and centre every game.

"No, no way!" David stands, slamming his hands on his desk, "You're lying!" Half the class echo his claims that you must be lying and it makes you even more determined to prove them wrong. Do you really need to prove to a bunch of teenagers that you're dating an NHL player? No, do you want to? Absolutely.

"Fine, don't believe me, but i'm not lying. I'm dating a Vancouver Canuck."

It takes a little to get them all back on track with the lesson but you manage it. Although you're just as distracted. The moment the bell goes to signal lunch break and your classroom empties, you're on your phone calling your boyfriend, even though you know he's probably in the middle of practice.

He answers on the second ring, the sound of the rink in the background loud and clear as pucks hit the sideboards and skates scratch up the ice.

"Hey, baby, everything okay?" It's unusual for you to call him in the work day and you can hear the worry in his voice, even if he'll pretend he's not worried at seeing your name pop up when you should be working.

"Hey, I'm fine, don't worry...but...you know how you love me?" You fiddle with a little wooden bear that sits on your desk. Quinn bought you it after finding out your favourite animals were any type of bear, it's left ear is broken off and it's got a little bit of red paint where it fell on a floor one time, but you love it anyway.

"Uh huh?" The worry in his voice gives out to amusement at realising you're after something. On his end Quinn is stood at the bench watching the guys run drills, Tocc giving him a look as if to say 'hurry up'.

"And you know how you want to always make me happy?" He smiles at the faux innocent voice you put on, as if he'd deny you anything.

"What do you need me to do, baby?" There's zero hesitation, typical Quinn really, if you want something you've got it, if you need him to do something he's agreeing before all the terms are laid out. He's lucky you don't abuse that sort of power really, he'd spoil you completely if you let him.

"I need you to help me organise a school trip to see you guys practice and meet you all, so that I can prove to my students that I am actually dating an NHL player because they're calling me a liar and I will not be called a liar by teenagers who gaslight me all the time!" The faux innocent voice gives way to your rapid ramble, annoyance riding your tone as you pace across the front of your classroom.

You're greeted firstly by his loud and genuine laugh, so loud that it makes you pull the phone away from your ear. It takes a solid minute for Quinn to stop laughing, and he can see the looks he's getting from the ice, Brock throws him a questioning eyebrow raise, Petey perks his head up at the sound of his captain actually laughing that hard.

It's the dead silence on your end that makes him stop, "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes! They're telling me i'm lying and I will not be called a liar!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight." He runs a hand through his hair, before leaning against the side of the bench, "Your students don't believe you're dating a canuck, so you need me to help you organise a school trip-"

"For free!" You interrupt, knowing you won't get permission for a trip that costs the school anything more than a few buses and fuel costs, school funding being what it is.

"For free, to prove that you're dating me?" There are easier ways, Quinn thinks, to prove this. Like, him posting a picture of you together on the internet or him kissing you in front of the arena at a game, but it's kind of cute how much you're affronted by your students calling you a liar. It also sounds way more fun.

"Yup, is that...is that too much to ask? I'm being silly aren't I?" He hears it in your tone, the way you seem to start second guessing yourself, can hear you tapping a fingernail against your desk, probably messing with the little bear figurine he got you all those years ago.

"A little silly, but for you? I think I can pull some strings, honey."

You know Quinn will say yes to most things you ask, but you hadn't actually expected him to agree this time. It had felt too big, too much. Your normal requests were small, something like asking if he could get you a doughnut on his way home or could he put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, i'm serious." It takes a beat before your almost squealing in delight down the phone at him, the realisation that he's actually saying yes hitting and he can't help but laugh even as he pulls the phone away from his ear.

"I love you! Have I told you that today?" Your voice is sweet and happy, brighter than it was before. It makes him want to always say yes to you, the way you light up like a christmas tree.

"Mmm, not since 6am this morning."

"Well, I love you and you are the absolute best boyfriend I've ever had and I will never take you for granted."

He can see Tocc motioning him over, telling him without words that its time for the call to end and get back to being captain. Part of him just wants to keep talking with you, rare as it is to get to do during a working day, but he has responsibilities just like you do.

"I have to go, baby, I have practice...but we'll talk about this later, okay?"

He knows his evening is going to be spent planning out what you want this trip to look like before he goes away and tries to make it happen, but he doesn't mind. Anything to make his baby happy. Even if that is trying to prove a bunch of teenagers wrong.

Between the two of you it takes about 2 months to organise the trip. A lot of that time simply spent getting risk assessments done, approval from your administration sorted and organising parental consent. It also takes you getting the sports teacher on side because it was becoming difficult to find a justification as a History teacher for why you wanted to take kids to meet some hockey players. By the time you've organised it, most of your students have forgotten your claims. You have not forgotten their belief that you are a liar, however.

"I can't believe you managed to get us a trip to Rogers Arena! To meet the Canucks! Best teacher ever!" The hockey boys in your class are especially stoked, many of them playing in junior teams and following the Canucks closely as their team of choice. David is no exception to that rule, arriving to the school bus in so many bits of Vancouver merchandise that you're unsure how he's managing to walk weighed down as he is.

"I told you, my boyfriend plays for them." You remind him, ticking him off the register of kids and ushering him up into the bus.

"Miss, we all know that's not true." He turns to you just as he's about to dispear to find his seat. The scepticism written all over his face.

It makes you shake your head, waiting for the moment the puck drops.

The entire ride to the stadium features your students making fun of you for saying your boyfriend was a canuck, you let it slide simply because you're looking forward to seeing them eat their words. They think its funny right now, but you know you're getting the last and final laugh.

You're met at the entrance by, surprisingly, Tocc, who greets you with a warm hug, "Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm good, thank you for having us, Tocc." You like Tocc, he's a good coach and you like that he cares about how the guys are as people not just how they perform. You also can see how much Quinn appreciates him as coach, so you have a soft spot for the scary looking guy.

"No problem," You can feel the weight of 50 eyes on you, all varying shades of disbelief as they realise you seem a little too familiar when interacting with the Head Coach and its only the beginning. You can't help but smile simply because they're starting to realise that maybe they fucked up. Maybe their doubt was misplaced, maybe you actually were telling the truth all along.

"Are Quinn and the guys on the rink or in the locker room?"

"Rink, easier to fit all the kids, but we've got to get them booted up first." The famililarity with which you refer to Quinn and the guys, does not go past David and Stacy both of whom share a look that screams 'don't tell me that she actually knows them...'.

It takes a bit of time to get all 50 kids in skates, although at least 20 of them bring their own, as do you. You're not much of a skater, but dating Quinn meant you couldn't avoid him buying you a decent pair for family skate and the few times he manages to drag you on the ice each year.

You're about to put your own on when Quinn makes his way over to you clearly having just come off the ice, guards on his skates and hair messy from his helmet. He waves briefly at some of the kids before reaching you, taking your skates in hand without hesitation.

"Y'know I can do it myself, right?"

"When have I ever let you do your own skates? Besides, I thought you wanted the last laugh?" He nods his head in the direction of your students who stand gaping at the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks putting your foot in a skate and putting said skate between his thighs to help him tighten the laces with care. Not something one does for a strange teacher they don't know.

"I'm really enjoying myself already. The whole ride they were giving me all sorts of hell about it, and now I can see their little brains working hard to figure out if I was actually telling the truth or not."

You watch Quinn work, finishing tying off your first skate before reaching for the other, his hands are sure on your calf as he slips your foot into it. "The guys are looking forward to it, think this might be their favourite practice of the year. You might be their favourite WAG now."

"All I had to do was bring a bunch of teenagers to the rink to get them to love me?" Quinn stops mid lace pull, smirk firmly in place as he looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.

"Y'know they loved you already, right? Pretty sure Petey is your number one fan."

"That's because I bribe him with sweets." Specifically his favourite sour candy which makes his eyes water. The more sour the better.

Quinn huffs out a laugh, tying off your laces before patting your foot and setting it back on the ground. His hands reach out to help you to your feet and linger on yours a little longer than is strictly necessary.

"You ready for this?"

"Can't back out now, so I guess I have to be." There's a slight bubbling of nerves under your skin, the sense that your students might not think this is cool and instead think that you're undeserving of your relationship, but you shrug it off. After all, they're kids, their opinion on your relationship is genuinely not important.

"See you on the rink?"

"See you there." You watch him walk away and try to ignore the buzz of chatter you can hear from students, commenting on the fact that Quinn did your skates for you.

You get them registered, orderly and help them file onto the rink, the less sure of the bunch buddied up with someone who had more experience skating to avoid 50 kids bowling each other over on the ice. You did not want to deal with a pile of kids flat on the ice after knocking each other over, the paper work would be ridiculous.

You stand back and just watch. The clear awe on their faces as they step out onto the ice, the large rink impressive any day let alone for kids who had never stepped foot on a rink that size. It makes you smile, knowing you're contributing to their memories, providing something great even if it all started out of petty spite. Even if they don't believe you, you feel good knowing they're getting to enjoy this experience.

You skate nearer to the front, Brock and Petey giving you a bright smile and wave, a variety of nods of recognition from the others. Little things that once again tell your students you know these men better than they expected you to.

"Hey, guys. Welcome to Rogers Arena, it's great to have you here," Quinn starts the introduction, smoothly sliding forward on his skates and gesturing to the line of players as he proceeds to introduce each them by name and position, before finally getting to himself, "And i'm Quinn Hughes, Captain of the team,"

"And Norris trophy winner" You chime in, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend do what he's best at. He's good with fans especially kids, even if he's terrible with the after game reporters.

He turns to you with a bright grin, "Hi, baby," You can see the twinkle in his eye as he drops the petname, you know he does it on purpose to get the reaction that he does from your students as a wave of muttering and murmuring goes through the little crowd.

"Hi, honey, thanks for having us." You throw it right back, more sickly sweet than you'd usually be, playing up to your little audience who practically gasp.

"Anything for my girl."

"No fucking way!" "What the hell?!" You watch each face drop, mouths open, eyes wide. Watch David as he swears loudly face aghast, almost horrified at the realisation that he might have been making fun of Quinn Hughes' girlfriend the entire time he'd been calling his teacher a liar.

"Language, David!" You tell him off even as you smirk, watching the murmurs die off as Quinn and Boeser talk the kids through skating techniques and how best to shoot the puck, the different techniques and ways to hit the puck with the stick. Half of it makes little sense to you but its nice to watch how the kids get engaged, how Quinn takes over a leadership and teaching role.

You mostly take a step back throughout, watching your students learn from Quinn and the guys, but every now and then Quinn finds you under the pretense of fixing your stance or giving you a tip or piece of advice.

Like now, as his hands reach out, fixing how you hold the hockey stick, foot kicking yours just slightly further apart to adjust your stance.

"So, think they believe you now?" You look over at your students, the joy they're having learning hockey from some of the best, but also at the looks they keep sending your way. You're certain they've learnt their lesson, the teacher is always right, at least when it comes to her own love life.

"I think I am offically the coolest teacher in school, so thanks for that." You reach up and kiss Quinn on the cheek, quick and chaste, nothing inappropriate considering you're both at work and surrounded by kids, but it's enough to make his cheeks flush red.

He rubs the back of his neck with that boyish smile of his and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, "Well, I couldn't have a bunch of teenagers calling my girlfriend a liar."

You're so stuck in the moment with him that you don't notice David and his friends until they're upon you and calling out to Quinn. The picture of respect when talking to who might just be their new favourite NHL star.

"Hey, Mr Hughes?" Conveniently half the kids surrounding you are the ones who claimed you must have been dating some beer league level player or some guy from the Chicago Blackhawks.

"You can call me Quinn, Mr Hughes is my dad. What's up, dude?"

"So when are we going to be calling teach Mrs Hughes?" It's your turn to flush, face warming harshly as Quinn's practically asked when he's proposing to you by a spotty 15 year old.

"David!" You might never be able to call your future child David at this rate, far too familiar with calling the name in admonishment. Definitely no David's in your future. Add that name to the list of names you can't use.

David looks at you with a wide grin, braces on full display. "What? I'm tryin' a help you get that bank!" It's actually mortifying, you thank your lucky stars that Quinn knows you're not actually after his money because if a 15 year old were to ruin your relationship you might actually become a super villain.

"I do not need a 15 year old wingman!"

"Baby, it's alright." Quinn wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side as if that will sooth the embarrassment of having a 15 year old try to help you get a rich husband, "Uh, to answer your question, it won't be too long now, bud."

"So, like 6 months? A year? Next week?"

"Oh my god..." You turn your face into Quinn's shoulder, your groan muffled by his jersey. You're certain you might actually pass away from embarrassment, even if deep down there's a little thrill in your stomach that Quinn basically just said he's going to propose to you sooner rather than later.

"I gotta keep it a secret, sorry, man! Gotta keep Mrs Hughes on her toes." Your toes curl at the way he calls you Mrs Hughes, a small smile on your face hidden by his jersey.

A little back and forth is exchanged before David and his friends decide their bored and skate off towards Boeser who's going over the finer points of 'get to the net' and 'just shoot the puck'.

You mumble into Quinn's shoulder as his hands run up and down your back in soothing strokes, "Are you really ganging up on me with a bunch of teenagers?"

"Hey, I just told you that I want to marry you and you're mad at me?" He's not serious though, grinning as pushes you back to look at him. It's adorable, the pout on your face as you glare up at him for making fun of you. Although, you're always adorable to him, so maybe he's biased,

"Correction, you told a 15 year old that you wanted to marry me."

"Okay, okay, I see the problem." He shakes his head solemnly, hands on your shoulders as he lowers his voice just a touch, "Baby, just so you know I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"Okay?" You watch as he stands, mouth agape at your casual response. You're sure he was expecting you to giggle or squeal, but you're determined to mess with him a little.

"That's...nice to know?" You grin at him even as internally you're screaming because your boyfriend wants to marry you and you definitely want to marry him.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

"You're dating a teacher, that's like my whole thing. I'm a professional nerd."

"Yeah... it's cute. It's why I want to marry you."

"Quinn!" You shove him away with a laugh. Maybe your students won't be embarrassing you anymore, but you think you might have a lifetime of Quinn doing it instead. Somehow that doesn't seem like the worst idea.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes/reader #nhl imagine

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hollowdeath · 1 year ago

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professor potter

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.

content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)

word count: 12.5k

a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !

it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.

you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.

but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.

there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.

it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.

you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?

even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.

no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.

and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.

you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.

at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.

sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.

you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.

you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.

potter. there's no way…

the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.

they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?

just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.

you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.

okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…

the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.

you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.

you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.

sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.

you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.

you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.

you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.

"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."

you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?

it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…

"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."

all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.

you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?

"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.

you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.

"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.

"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.

harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.

harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.

you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…

seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.

it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.

you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…

what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.

before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.

you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.

mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.

your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.

"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.

the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"

you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.

when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.

you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.

you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.

no…

you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.

as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:

[y/n],

hagrid's, 8:30pm

harry

you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…

from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.

you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.

sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.

on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.

arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.

as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.

you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.

a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.

"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.

"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?

harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.

harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.

completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.

"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"

he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.

"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.

as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.

wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"

after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"

you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"

harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"

smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.

"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.

you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…

"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.

he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?

harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.

"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.

you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.

after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.

"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.

before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.

"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.

"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"

harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"

you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."

harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.

"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.

harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."

you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."

the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.

you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.

"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.

"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."

you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.

you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."

harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.

regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.

surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.

you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.

harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.

you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.

"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."

as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.

"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."

looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."

harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.

he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.

"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.

harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."

you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter."

enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.

that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.

though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.

rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.

it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.

well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.

and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.

so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…

but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.

there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.

and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.

you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…

not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.

not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.

this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.

a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.

of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.

all this to say, there was definitely tension.

you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.

but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.

honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.

on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you.

"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.

"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.

chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.

you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.

he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."

you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.

harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.

"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.

you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.

mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.

you smile back at him. "okay."

slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.

you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"

harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.

"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.

saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.

the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.

but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.

upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.

as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.

entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.

not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.

"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.

but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.

"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.

just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"

you both turn, and it's harry.

"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.

"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.

the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.

you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.

you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.

you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.

"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.

"how do you know where my room is?"

harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.

"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"

harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.

harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."

your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.

you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.

"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.

he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.

"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"

smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.

as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.

you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.

laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.

the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.

you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.

softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"

you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.

he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.

"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.

his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.

you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.

harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.

harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.

a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.

"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.

"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.

harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.

"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.

"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.

harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.

after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.

you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.

"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?

"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.

"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.

harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.

it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.

it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.

after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.

you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.

the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.

"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."

you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.

harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"

you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."

the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.

"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but…

"but…" harry says.

you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.

he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"

harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.

you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."

harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.

as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"

you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.

"of course."

it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.

with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…

harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.

though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.

that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.

to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.

you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.

it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.

"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."

you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.

as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.

the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.

harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.

he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.

your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.

you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.

the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.

arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.

you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.

you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.

fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.

you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.

you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…

entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.

you turn around, and it's harry.

you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.

"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.

you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.

as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.

harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.

you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.

you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.

the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.

"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.

"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"

you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.

"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.

harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.

his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.

he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.

you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.

harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.

you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.

he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.

"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.

"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.

you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.

he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.

harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.

harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.

harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.

harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.

"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.

"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.

"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.

"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.

you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.

"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.

harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.

you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him.

harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.

harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.

harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.

after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.

you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.

you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.

"so," you say softly. "what now?"

harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.

"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.

you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.

"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.

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gatorbites-imagines · 5 days ago

Note

Friedrich getting 'infected' by proximity and becoming obsessed with dhampir reader?

Friedrich Harding x Dhampir male reader

Ficlet

I can’t deny I felt myself drawn to Friedrich, and it’s not just cuz its Aaron Taylor-Johnson playing him. The scene in the mausoleum… was something. This takes place somewhere after anna and the daughters die, but before Friedrich, well, you know. Tried to really go with the handsome mysterious vampire vibe here.

Hope this meets the “intro to obsession” vibe I was going for. I had a lot of fun writing this, would honestly love to write a part 2, if y’all are interested…

Nosfertatu 2024 spoilers ig

The plague was ransacking Wisborg, people dying by the dozen, bodies littering the streets faster than they could be moved away. Rats ran around, running about peoples feet, some even climbing up pedestrians legs if they could.

But Friedrich could not find it in himself to care. After his sweet Anna was gone, his beautiful daughters too, taken by this plague, for he still did not believe that it was some demon that took them. That was simply the ramblings of a woman who should have been locked away a long time ago. The alcohol on his tongue was sour like his thoughts. He truly should have convinced Thomas of turning his eyes onto another woman all that time ago.

Friedrich was not at his estate. He knew that would be the first place Thomas would find him, along with the two doctors who only played into the delusion. He simply couldn’t stand being in their presence right now, not after burying his beloved Anna and their daughters.

His eyes were bloodshot, throat raw from all his sobbing and weeping. He had not even changed out of the clothing he had worn to their funeral. The keeper of the bar he had found, had left the bottle with him after he had pair, deciding to return to the safety of their home, and not be stuck here with Friedrich.

The door of the establishment opened with a creak, cold air seeming to flood the room. What few candles stood about flickered before snuffing out, the room suddenly so cold that Friedrich’s breath was making vapors as a horrible cold sank into his bones.

The moment Friedrich turned his head, still so heavy and weary, the room seemed to warm up again, the candles flickering back on, the flame stronger and brighter than before. A man stood in the door, tall and broad in a way that spoke of good lineage, of a healthy diet, someone rich enough to eat enough to grow tall.

The clothing was similar, but not what was popular in Germany, but rather what you would see the upper class of the kingdom of Great Britain would wear. Most of it, at least. Down the middle of his coat, was stitching’s and details that felt like it was from somewhere else. It made Friedrich think of the few traders he had met from Romania.

What was most peculiar, was the mans eyewear. They looked like Windsor glasses, but the glass was tinted red. Not a dull weak red that most craftsmen could achieve, but a red so vibrant that the shades almost seemed to glow in the mans shadow. Last but not least, was the cane the man was holding. Polished and dark, with a pommel shaped like that seemed to be a bat of all things.

A feeling started filling the room as the men stepped closer to the mourning widow, the door slamming shut behind the mysterious man as if the wind itself as pulled it, his polished shoes and heels clicking across the flooring as he neared.

His walk was graceful, as if his feet were not touching the ground as he moved, like the weight of the world was not holding him down like everyone else. The world so heavy that Friedrich wanted it to swallow him whole.

A shiver that felt both molten and freezing ran down Friedrichs spine, as this graceful man sat down beside him on another stool at the door, the ship merchant finding himself almost bewitched as the unknown man pulled off his skintight leather gloves. It felt almost promiscuous, the way the gloves slowly pulled off his fingers and folded up so neatly on the bar top.

“You would not mind if I joined you for a drink, would you, Herr?” he finally spoke, his voice purred and accented, like a big fancily dressed feline, perhaps like one of those lions Friedrich had heard of. The voice was accented, something British mixed with Romanian. Seemingly out of nowhere, a crystal glass was in front of him, the mans eyes hidden behind the tinted glass of his special eyewear, but Friedrich felt like a mouse before a cat, like he was seeing someone greater than himself.

“N… not at all” he finally mustered out, voice gasped and breathless, like something besides his heavy grief was weighing on his lungs. The bottle of whatever alcohol Friedrich had bought in his blind grief felt heavy in his clammy hands as he pulled the stopper, turning it to pour it into the mans glass.

Friedrich could not wrench his eyes from the tall mans face, he felt almost bewitched. It felt like when he would look at Anna, but… more. Anna was always his beloved beautiful wife, who made him feel like an animal at times with how much he yearned her. But with her, he was the wolf, the hunter, and her his fluffy rabbit.

But now, he felt meek, sensitive, the hairs on his skin standing on end. Friedrich felt spit pool in his mouth as his sudden companion lifted the now filled glass, slowly bringing it to his plush lips, the bop of his throat as he swallowed making sweat gather on the merchant’s brow.

The beating of his heart was loud in his ears, Friedrichs hands twitching on the bar top in a need to wipe them on his trousers, but under this man’s attention he felt stuck as if he was submerged in stone or ice. His smile was… so beautiful. Dizzying, like alcohol and tobacco, like the medicines that made your world spin and colors dance before your ears.

Some of the man’s teeth were sharp, sharper than any Friedrich had ever seen, but his attention was stuck on the way his tongue flicked across his bottom lip to catch any stray drops of alcohol.

“You seemed burdened by a great weight, my friend” he purred, placing the now empty glass down, just to reach upper and take Friedrichs chin between his pointer and thumb. A loud shaky exhale left Friedrich, his Adams apple bouncing as he swallowed, his insides burning at such a small touch.

“I… I lost my wife… my daughters. To this plague” he gasped, the words wrenching from his chest like his daughters wrenching the favorite doll from each other’s hands. Why did he say that? spill such a painful fact to a complete stranger.

“You have my deepest condolences” his accented voice cooed, like one would coo at a small pitiful animal. Yet, Friedrich did not feel put down by the tone of voice, instead his very heart seemed to pump twice as fast as something like euphoria flooded his veins. The very attention of this man had Friedrich feeling more alive than any other moment of his life.

“It saddens me that my father’s obsession should take such important beings from you. I will find a way to repay you, anything you may want. You simply come find me, when you know what that is” his almost erotic voice rolled, his face drawing closer and closer to Friedrichs.

He knew he should pull away, claim disgust and horror of a man, and a strange at that, drawing so close, just after his wife had been put away in the mausoleum. But Friedrichs blood rushed, both to his face and downwards, his lips parting in a soft hungry gasp as his eyelids drooped.

The mans lips were cold, but not as cold as a corpses. Cold, like when you just got in from the pouring rain and you were soaked to the bone. His tongue tasted metallic, salty almost, mixed with the minty flavor of pastils. The kind a man would use to fix his breath.

It should have disgusted Friedrich, yet he found himself arching into it with a needy hungry whimper, a noise his sweet Anna never had drawn from him. The merchant wanted to grasp onto this man, to devour his tongue and mouth in ways he never dared with Anna, to climb upon him and be taken in ways he had only heard shamefully spoken of by others.

Pure ecstasy, what must be a taste of heaven, enough for Friedrich to fear he would spill in his trousers like a fool. Addicting, more than any drug. But just as he was about to indulge himself, the man pulled away, his grin wider and more akin to the demon paintings of the churches.

His teeth were painted red, his tongue flicking across his sharp fangs. His tongue seemed sharper and longer than the average person, but Friedrich felt nothing but want. In his hazy state, Friedrich did not even see him leave. One moment he was there, the next, gone, the door of the establishment wide open and the candles put out.

Rats ran by the door, yet none entered, as if there was a barrier in the way. It was only now that Friedrich felt the ache of his tongue, his hand clumsily reaching up and brushing against it, drawing away only to see them coated in blood. His mouth tasted like blood, his handkerchief soaked in it when he pressed it against his mouth.

His tongue hurt, did it start bleeding on accident when you two coiled yours like a pair of mating snakes? The throbbing of his tongue was almost as addictive as the throbbing between his legs, a wild feeling in his mind and body.

Friedrich stumbled to his feet, neglecting to pick up his hat as he stumbled out of the establishment, leaving his bottle behind as he tripped towards his home. With all the death around them, no one had time to pay attention to the befuddled man whose mouth and chin was soaked in blood, and nobody had time to pay attention to how the rats seemed to go right around him like a parting sea.

He must get home. He had too… he had to find that man again, he had to find you.

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sunnie-angel · 7 months ago

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Part 2: The Decision

part 1 | part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason todd easily sees the potential for something more in his friendship with you but resolves to keep his distance.

tags: fluff, self-loathing, off-screen killing

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.8k

a/n: sooo i had planned to get the second chapter out much sooner, wrote it, realized that what i had planned for chapter 3 worked better, had to rewrite chapter 3 as chapter 2, and ended up here (cue the internal screaming). on the upside, that means you’ll all get an update on chapter 3 (formerly chapter 2) much sooner.

Jason Todd has somehow gotten back on track to graduate university, fallen in with a group of friends, and may have found the first person to truly understand him this side of the Pit. He’d been uncertain about finishing university, already dealing with the hassle of running a criminal empire and the tattered threads of his family relationships. But Talia had suggested, “Better not to be consumed by revenge so that one may properly enjoy its results,” and that had been all it took to convince him. Barbara, for all their problems still unresolved, had helped him hide the decision from the bats and hadn’t that been a lovely conversation to have?

Sitting in class that first day had been strange, a sense of deja vu hitting him of all the times he’d sat in classrooms before. A different person answers now when he’s called on to introduce Jason Todd. As part of his time with the League, Talia had arranged for him to take courses by correspondence but none of that had prepared him for it would be like to be in a classroom with a handful of 20-somethings. It makes him feel old to hear them discuss their plans for the future with the surety of a world that will shape itself to their expectations. If he’s honest with himself, it also makes him envious.

He hadn’t expected to be invited to lunch that first day, though he’d at least seen the blonde’s approach. It had been… nice to be noticed, like he was any other 22 year old new to campus and looking for friends. What had really caught Jason’s eye though was Danika’s (that’s what her name was, right?) friend, standing a few rows back. She’d looked downright mortified by her friend’s antics but had smiled tentatively at him anyway. He’d rushed through his meeting with Dr. Okafor, really just confirming a time to discuss his credit transfers. Clearly he’s interrupted yet another embarrassing moment for you, but you handle it with a grace that rivals only Alfred’s ability to deal with inconvenient situations.

That intrigues him though, your kindness even when uncomfortable. Finding out you’re from home, another Crime Alley kid that defied the odds but never forgot your roots endears you to him even more. You bite back, take the attention away from him when you see how flustered he is by Lina calling him pretty and he’s determined now to make you a friend.

You’re smaller than he thought once you’re finally sitting next to him. He’s acutely aware of how the booth forces the two of you together, the long length of him pressed up against your side. The way your knee knocks into his thigh and the soft cushion of where your hip meets his. You’re one of his already, one of those that the Red Hood has claimed as under his protection, but the reality of you drives home who his work is really helping. Your mention of food pulls him out of his thoughts and scrambling to rectify the situation by offering to share his own. He’s positively delighted by your reaction, the way your compliments freely given still have a bite to them that’s honest. A warmth in his stomach that doesn’t originate from the spices in his meal only makes him want to figure out more ways to draw you out of your shell.

You share another class with him in the afternoon and he’s thanking whichever lucky star is smiling down at him that he’ll get you to himself at least once a week for the next few months. Walking into class with an acquaintance, though maybe it's too soon to call you that, is everything he wanted in the time from Before. Lost day dreams of sharing a desk with a friend in high school, hanging out together after, longings for in-jokes and shared histories are rearing their heads. Class passes quickly, a flurry of information and a hyper awareness of how close his body is to yours. It’s only an introductory class, but already he can tell that you’re clever from the few times you speak up. Makes him look forward to the next class when he’d never planned for academics to be his priority.

Class lets out into the evening air just starting to turn crisp with a hint of dampness. He’ll have to go soon, get started with patrol now that darkness was coating the city. He turns to you and distracts himself from the strip of skin where your shirt rides up as you stretch by asking you about your plans for the evening. Walking you to the bus stop is nice, in a quiet kind of way. He stays until he’s sure you’re safely on the bus, doors closing with a pneumatic hiss. Walks off the path and out of the halo of the street lamp until the shadows have swallowed him whole. Takes care to check that no one’s looking and scales the side of the building, gothic stonework rough under his bare palms. Scans the horizon until he’s found your bus again and goes to follow. Thinks that maybe the paranoia that had persuaded him to pack most of his Hood gear in a school bag isn’t the worst thing to suffer from. It’s overboard yeah, but you’re a pretty girl planning to walk alone at night. He just wants to make sure that you get home all right. You weren’t exaggerating when you said the bus stop was only a block from your apartment, but he still breathes easier when he sees the warm glow of lamp light click on through your apartment window. You should have better locks on your window if it’s looking out onto a fire escape, he thinks idly. But its a problem for later and when he’s got a more solid reason to bring it up.

Patrol is quiet most of the night. Buoyed by the unexpected success of the day, his usual route feels brand new. He takes pleasure in the way the wind picks up his jacket and whips it around him, almost laughs out loud at the way his stomach swoops before the grappling line pulls taut. Jason’s managed a full day of normalcy, something that no one thought he could do. Not after everything. He’d talked to people his age that for once weren’t the victim of some terrible crime and came away with the potential for friendships. It’s been a long time since he’s had more than a work related conversation with his men or a cryptic conversation with Talia he doesn’t count all the arguments with his fath— with Bruce. For the first time in a long time being the Hood isn’t the burden it had become. The peace doesn’t last for long though.

A whisper of black fabric on a rooftop just outside of the territory he’s established brings him crashing back down, a reminder of just how badly his attempts at anything other than solitude have fractured. It’s a bracing kind hurt, like when the air’s too cold after a snowfall and you can practically taste the ice crystals as they tear into the soft heat of your lungs. He needs it though, that reminder that no one who knows him is capable of seeing him without the siren call of suspicion following him. That thought follows him through the rest of patrol and the mechanical motions of getting to bed. It solidifies as he drifts off to sleep just as the first rays of light start to clear the skyline. He’ll grasp at this chance to be someone else for a bit, Jason Todd the fresh faced student, but that’s all it’ll be. A façade to keep everyone else from getting too close. Danika, Will, “call me Lina”, Rei, even you. Friends, but at a distance.

Jason doesn’t have any classes on Tuesday, but he runs into you as he exits his meeting with Dr. Okafor. It’s a new building to him, despite the time he’s spent pouring over all of the campus’ blueprints. He turns a corner on a staircase looking for an exit and almost knocks you back down where you’d just emerged from.

“Hey! Are you blind or— oh. Jason.” Your tone goes from indignant to wondering in a second, eyes wide with recognition.

“Not blind, but definitely not paying enough attention. You good though?” And he should probably be a little more sorry about it, but the glee of not having to wait until the next week to see you again outweighs it.

“Oh after the class I just had, it’d take a lot more than that to ruin my day.” A group tries to pass you two on the stairs, buffets the two of you into the railing.

“You wanna take this somewhere else? Give me another chance to ruin your day?” He grins, lopsided but hopeful.

You nod, and he leads the way, hulking figure cutting through the stream of people. He finds a nook on the first floor, big overstuffed chairs surprisingly empty for this time of day. You throw yourself into a chair dramatically, a sigh on your lips as your head tilts back.

“Class really that bad?” He prompts you.

“God I hate assholes that manage to make the most interesting subject painful. Like, at least wait until the second class before you start telling every single student their interpretation is wrong.” You swipe a hand across your face before visibly trying to pull yourself back together. “But as much as I hate Duvall’s teaching it’s mandatory for my program so I’m just gonna have to put up with his shit until next semester. Get my revenge during prof evaluations.”

“Look we don’t know each other that well, but by my reckonin’ you know what you’re on about. Don’t let him shake you, yeah?”

“Oh I know all about not listening to people that think my opinion isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. It just pisses me off that I still gotta deal with it every week for the foreseeable future.”

“Hey I’m all ears.” He offers, and it’s not entirely altruistic. Jason wants to support you, but it’s also a chance to learn more about you. It’s all a chance to be regular civilian he tells himself, and a civilian would do this for a friend.

“I’d love to but I think it’s right about—“ and the alarm on your phone sounds out, “yep, its about time for me to head to my internship.” You start to gather your things together. “But usually our group gets together on Wednesday afternoons to grab lunch and study together. We usually grab the same table in the student union around noon if you want to join us.”

Jason does join the study session, not that he needs to. But it's nice to spend time with people who like who they think he is. He arrives just as you slide into the booth, secures himself the seat next you (and the rest of the bench for himself). Your hair falls as you spread out your books and Jason’s close enough to smell whatever product you used last. It dazes him for a minute, and its only the arrival of Lina and Rei that shakes him out of his stupor. He starts up a conversation with Rei on the Gotham U swim team and gets roped in to come practice with him sometime next week. Not to be out done, Lina gently starts asking him how he’s settling in. He answers noncommittally, more focused on the way you’ve started to twirl your pen between your fingers as you come across a particularly dense passage. Seeming to understand that she won’t get much more out of Jason, Lina nudges Rei and they turn to their own books, though not without a tight-lipped and knowing smile on her face. The four of you work in silence broken only by the scribbling of pens and clacking of keyboards. Danika and Will turn up just as your stomach starts rumbling, causing you to meet Jason’s eyes in embarrassment.

He winks at you, before pulling out two Tupperware containers with chopsticks. Sliding one over to you he pretends not to notice as at first you protest, then guiltily start digging in as soon as you smell it.

Brandishing your chopsticks at him, you say “Don’t think I’m not keeping score mister. This has got to count as psychological warfare, there’s no way a sane person could turn you down after tasting your food once.”

He tucks a smile away and simply keeps eating. Will drags over some chairs for him and Danika, the one extra person throwing off your previously established seating arrangements. Conversation buzzes at the other end of the table but he can’t tear his attention away from you enjoying the labours of his hands. Eventually the table turns back to studying and you slide the container back to him with murmured words of thanks. Even you can only study for so long, so it's no great surprise when your books softly thump closed. You rest your forehead on the table and groan.

“Why is there so much reading? It’s only the first week back.”

“Ooooh, you know what that means though?” Danika exclaims. “We have to celebrate the first week back and that means going out! We’ll get dressed up, I’ll do your makeup, we can pregame at mine. You know you want to.” She wheedles.

You mock groan at her pronouncement, turn to rest your temple on the table to make eye contact with her. “Lina does my makeup and we’re done by 1 AM.”

“Awe, killjoy,” the blonde pouts.

“Lina does my makeup, Jason’s in charge of picking the post-club takeout, and we’re done by 2 AM. Final offer.”

Lina grins at Jason before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Jason’s not sure what to expect when he shows up to the address Danika had sent through the group text. It’s a nicer part of town, a part of Gotham Heights he’s had no reason to visit as either of his identities. The doorman lets him in without too much fuss once Danika calls down to confirm he’s expected. She lets him in excitedly, limbs uncoordinated with the help of a few drinks. Rei leans forward to pour Jason a drink and at the same time you turn to look for who had arrived. The first thing Jason notices is the shiny red lip gloss you’re wearing as your lips spread into a smile at the sight of them. Something about the colour, bolder than you usually wear, sends heat straight to his groin. He hadn’t even realized that his hearing had gone muffled until Rei asks him for a second time how many shots Jason wants in his drink. Oh, he thinks distractedly. This could be a problem.

It definitely is a problem when he’s washing blood off his hands in the early hours of the morning and the only thing he can think of is that same cherry red lip gloss wrapped around the straw of your drink under the club’s strobing lights. How you’d looked up at him with pupils dilated from the drink and the heat, lips parted and gloss catching the light. The self-loathing hits then, crippling in its intensity. You’re smart and funny and so pretty it makes his breath catch. The last thing you need is him fantasizing after you less than an hour after he’d taken a life. The colour of a man’s life blood shouldn’t be causing him desperate to see if you’d taste as sweet as you look. It’s selfish and cowardly but he doesn’t want to give you up just yet. Doesn’t want to see the little smiles and commiserating looks turn to fear and hatred just yet. No, he can do this. He can smile and play nice, play at the Jason Todd you deserve. The one that won’t make you worry or hurt you with the truth of himself. Rules, he decides, rules are what he needs because it’s oh so easy to get caught up in you.

He can get close, but he can’t touch. It doesn’t matter how soft your skin looks or how tempting it would be to play with your hair. If he lets himself touch he is lost.

He will never let himself enter your home. He’s already followed you there, it’s a lost cause to pretend that he won’t check up on your safety. Better to decide now to never cross that final threshold.

He won’t let you in. He’ll be the best friend he is capable of being but he won’t let you see the truth of him. After all, it’s what’s sent those that know him running.

He will never tell you that he’s ever thought about anything more than friendship.

Part 3

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fic #jason todd fic #jason todd headcanon #sunnie writes 🌻#ydcmb (uibyt) series

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syndromestatic · 2 months ago

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Something I’ve been thinking about… because of recent moominous events & also the classes I’m taking:

Queer artistry is so so special. & when a queer artist creates something, it resonates with other queer people. The art becomes inherently queer. I think it could probably be debated if all art made by a queer person is, necessarily, queer- separation of art and artist and all that- but at least I think that’s the case.

The question is: does this remain the case after the artist is gone and their art is altered? You probably see where I’m going with this. We think of these characters as inherently queer because of their long and storied history, but at the same time, we know that Moominvalley has changed these characters, too. I’m not going to definitively state that they’re made… not queer, because I don’t believe that to be fully true, but if fundamental aspects of their character and how we perceive it can be changed, can their queerness be so as well? And if the queerness is not erased, then what is it? tamped down? undermined? mishandled?

& Maybe this is the point where you go “okay static it’s not that deep” but I really do think it is! Moominvalley 2019 mishandles a lot of things, i daresay even skirts around the queerness of itself without fully leaving it out. Here is my main case: If they were going to be more explicit with Moomin and Snufkin’s queercoding, that very much should have been followed through with. & let’s speak on how much Moominvalley played around with and constantly changed the nature of Snorkmaiden and Moomin’s romantic relationship with little to no actual explanation or context? Guys I don’t know. It’s odd, it’s weird, and it certainly doesn’t sit right with me.

To me, Season 3 left off in a place where Snufkin and Moomin’s relationship was at it’s tipping point between romantic and platonic- the season literally ends with them arm and arm- And that’s why season 4 falls flat in the demonstration of their relationship. I never expected season 4 to deliver on that front in the first place- by season 2 I felt that the Moomin/Snufkin moments were heavy handed and a bit too forced to be completely natural, and I knew it wasn’t about to become explicitly canon in the first place because Moomin and Snufkin never have been- but to me it’s about follow through and writing, and the fact they were dropping such obnoxious hints only for that tension to be dropped last season feels like both a cop-out, and perhaps even intentional.

The contemporary Moomin boom occurred in 2019, in the wake of the series. Shippers went wild. absolutely nuts. If Moomin has no fans, the world is dead, but this definitely contributed to a spike in viewership. and listen. Season 1 had its flaws but if every season onwards was of the same quality, and each season included the snufmin subtext only as much as season 1, I would not be upset right now. I do, in fact, believe, that the queer fanbase of this show was teased and strung along with the Moomin/Snufkin relationship. And I think the way it was handled in season 4 was due to the fact that they wouldn’t need that part of the show to, excuse my terminology, bait viewers along because it was the last season. Obviously this is all speculation, but I really don’t think it’s all that unlikely. And I’m not even saying that it’s strictly the writers’ fault, but I think there was someone in power who let the queer shit- the shit was was just obvious enough to give young queer viewers fuel- pass by for as long as it was useful, but by no means could the show surpass a certain limit.

Ahem anyways I love Moomins and I dislike Moominvalley 2019… for many reasons but also for this… sorry for incoherencies, typos, the like.

#moomin #snufmin #moominvalley spoilers #moominvalley season 4

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 27 days ago

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Dangancember 2024 - Danganronpa Top 24 Class Trials - Number 11: Danganronpa Another 2 Case 1 {BEST CASE FROM SDRA2}

//It's usually never a good sign for a mystery game when the best case in your entire game's run is the first one. It's truly a sign that the rest of what's to come really doesn't reach the bar that the initial case set.

//It's even more of a bad sign when on a ranking that takes into account every trial in the series...NONE of them from this particular game manage to breach the Top 10.

//Yeah, I didn't even keep this a secret, but SDRA2 hands down has the least interesting and least engaging trials and mysteries, and it's for a variety of reasons. But it's important to remember that the primary reason for why it doesn't isn't because the cases are bad.

//It's primarily because none of them succeed in reaching the heights of the original series, or the trials and themes of its prequel. Despite how much SDRA2 branches out, it's riddled with issues that really set it down.

//And unfortunately, even as the best case in the game, Case 1 still gets this high on the list not out of greatness or what it aspires to reach, but out of...decency...more than anything.

//As I said previously, despite the fact that SDRA2's final trial manages to avoid most of the issues that are common throughout the finale's of these games, it still unfortunately fell victim to them, which is what pushed it down from being the standout trial of SDRA2. And as it stands, the first trial on the twisted island still then turns out to be the overall achiever.

//The interesting thing is that the reason why A2-6 got as high as this is because of the way it handles and resolves all the stakes that the rest of SDRA2 spent a lot of time putting focus on and dwelling over. The reason why A2-1 on the other hand gets the highest is because of how well it SETS them.

//To be honest, without spoiling what Number 10 on this list is, it was quite difficult to decide which between it, and this trial would manage to breach the Top 10. It'll make more sense when we actually cover it tomorrow, but the main reason is because this trial and that one share quite a bit in common.

//When it comes to opening cases in a Danganronpa game, A2-1 manages to get this high, higher than any other trial in SDRA2, because it's the only one that successfully manages to hit all the important story beats and tones that the better opening trials of the games SHOULD have.

//And again, you will see when we get to tomorrow's analysis just how similar they are, but what clear points and aspects made it take the victory over this trial.

//Before I go into the actual case, trial, and mystery itself though, I want to talk about one major thing with this trial that raises its stakes incredibly high compared to every other opening trial in the series except maybe for V3's. We obviously all know it now, and it's a widely recognized twist.

//To this day, no other Fanganronpa has been able to top the first big plot twist of the game. I have seen some that have tried, but they ultimately have failed.

//Simply the fact that the MASTERMIND is KNOWN and is PART of the trial!

//Obviously, he's not the culprit, as easy as that might be, but the reason why this aspect of SDRA2 is so infamous is because...it deserves to be. It's an INSANE gambit, and...one that doesn't really pull off for the first few chapters, but one that MASSIVELY pays off later.

//And yes, I know that it technically happens in the prologue, but the weight of it is carried through all of the first chapter, and into the trial. What do you want me to say about Mikado's Mastermind reveal that hasn't been said already?

//Danganronpa has never been great when it comes to hinting at who could be the Mastermind behind everything. It's like the series thrives on blindsiding you but forgets that twists work best when there's some setup.

//Junko’s big gambit, where she swaps places with Mukuro and lets her sister take the fall, is honestly clever...on paper. But then she disappears from the narrative like your car keys when you're late for work. There’s nary a whisper about her until Chapter 5, and by then, it’s like the game is shouting, "Surprise!" without actually planting enough breadcrumbs.

//Imagine if there’d been subtle hints that Mukuro’s death wasn’t what it seemed, like a weird comment, a loose thread, or anything of that caliber. Then maybe, just maybe, the moment Junko reappears wouldn’t feel like a plot twist straight out of a soap opera.

//DR2’s Mastermind twist with AI Junko is a lot better executed, leveraging DR1’s already established factors and plot points, taking advantage of the virtual world setting, and cranking up the absurdity to eleven. But then Izuru pops up just completely out of nowhere for the first time in this chapter, like that one coworker who shows up only for cake on someone’s last day.

//This enigmatic Hope Cultivation Plan is suddenly crucial, and Izuru himself becomes a convoluted justification for Hajime’s Reserve Course connection to the killing game. Sure, it’s a twist, but it’s also like trying to do algebra with no setup. You can figure it out, but you’re left wondering why no one bothered to explain anything beforehand.

//I barely count Izuru as a Mastermind anyway, but I still have to acknowledge his role here. Then we get to Another 1’s Utsuro, who is…marginally better than Izuru in terms of buildup, but it still feels like someone tossed his name into the story five minutes before the reveal.

//"Oh, yeah, this guy? Totally important. He also has this busted power that we didn't bring up before. Didn’t you notice?" No, game. No, I did not.

//And then there’s Tsumugi. She’s physically present for the entire game, but emotionally? Spiritually? This girl is on vacation. The only breadcrumbs leading to her being the Mastermind are obscure references to past games that most players wouldn’t notice unless they were studying the lore like it’s for finals.

//When her true role is revealed, you don’t gasp. You laugh, because there’s no way this human equivalent of lukewarm oatmeal was orchestrating anything. Her reveal is so anticlimactic it’s like discovering the person behind the curtain is your introverted cousin who forgot to bring snacks to the family reunion.

//But do you want to know what really pisses me off about all these lackluster villain reveals?

//Hyper Danganronpa H2O exists and somehow does this better.

//HYPER! DANGANRONPA! H2O! Does this better!

//The fangan everyone loves to hate; he game universally dismissed as "meh," actually sets up its Mastermind better than the canon games.

//For some brief context, HDRH2O's mastermind is Oliver Feng, who in the end turns out to be more of a pawn for his mother and the leader of Fang, Emilia, but was an integral part to the Killing Game and keeping it running for the duration.

//If you bother to spend time with Oliver, pay attention to his dialogue, or notice his oddly specific backstory, you’ll find little nuggets that make the final reveal feel earned. Sure, it’s not Shakespeare, but compared to the canon games? It’s somehow way more impactful and emotional.

//Of course, the hands down best Mastermind reveal of the lot is Akane Taira, but we've already been over that and will go over it again when we get to the final trial of DRA. Let’s just spill the beans about Mikado for now, shall we?

//LINUJ throws tradition out the window and just reveals the Mastermind right at the beginning of the game. No buildup, no fake-outs, just outs him immediately. But he still manages to keep his game running because he displays his absolutely insane degree of power of everyone, and establishes himself as an unstoppable force, namely by killing one of the key cast members of the original game.

//Rei obviously turns out to be alive later, but it doesn't hurt the standing of the twist.

//Bold move, right? It’s like starting a murder mystery by telling everyone who the killer is, then daring them to still enjoy the ride.

//And honestly? It works. The reveal is so unexpected, it flips the entire formula on its head. Mikado’s conduct in the early chapters might not scream "evil genius", more like "eccentric nerd at a LARP convention," but the sheer audacity of the twist sets SDRA2 apart.

//Instead of waiting until Chapter 6 to reveal the mastermind and cramming all their screen time into an hour, Mikado gets to lurk around, causing drama and tension the entire game. It’s a gutsy choice, and while the rest of the game doesn’t always hit the same high notes, this opening move is one heck of a power play.

//The next point I want to make with this trial is the characters involved in it, to which the key thing first of all is the victim.

//Yuri Kagarin is one of my least favourite characters in the Another series, and...I feel like I shouldn't really need to explain what is wrong with this man. As a character, he's like an unholy amalgamation of some of Danganronpa's most controversial characters.

//He has the suaveness and degeneracy of Teruteru, the crazy psychology of Nagito, and the rampant unscrupulous misandry of Tenko, all squished together, and...let's just say that doesn't make a healthy person.

//Which...unfortunately made him quite possibly the most obvious first death in the entire series.

//Aside from the fact that the three characters I just listed die in very horrible ways, it's also because you know that he's not going to be the rival or antag character because you already have both Mikado and Syobai who had slotted into the role immediately, so the only way out for him for the foreseeable future is to be the blackened or the victim of the first chapter, of which, he turned out to be the former.

//However, I would argue that even Tenko is a much deeper character than Yuri, and that says all you need to know really. Tenko is so one-note compared to most mainline Danganronpa characters, and it's really hard to like her unless you actually look at her other traits BESIDES the rampant sexism.

//What makes Tenko so interesting is that despite her beliefs and view of the male/female dynamic, there are elements of logic to her, despite the fact that she falls more squarely on the "belief" side of V3's Logic Vs Belief dynamic. The fact that she tried to infiltrate the student council, as well as how she ultimately realized that trying to dispose of Angie wouldn't solve anything, and would just upset Himiko.

//Yuri on the other hand...is not nearly as logical, despite his very apparent intelligence. But he's still interesting, especially because his dedication to females can't necessarily be chalked up to "my mind says no, but my dick says yes."

//Yuri is not a pervert. He's just...delusional. While I don't like him, and he's probably my least favourite character in SDRA2 besides only Nikei, I still have to acknowledge that what LINUJ made him out to be was...a methodical madman of a character.

//Yuri does not simply "love women," he, and I quote, "dedicated his life to women." And even though he's around for only one chapter, he's still a character that's very important to pay attention to.

//Wow, I'm REALLY overanalysing fucking Yuri Kagarin, aren't I? I've become one of THOSE people, haven't I?

//Alright, well...fuck it, I guess...

//Yuri is the kind of character who wears his eccentricities on his sleeve, and perhaps also on a flashing neon sign above his head. From the moment he enters the scene, he makes no effort to hide his unabashed adoration for the "fairer sex," to the point where he refers to Sora, a virtual stranger, with pet names during their free time events.

//This is a man who flirts with the fervor of someone auditioning for The Bachelor, but with a peculiar chivalry that tempers his otherwise suggestive remarks. For instance, when Sora questions his motives after he invites her to his dorm, he reassures her that he would never touch a woman without her permission. It’s like he read "How to Be a Gentleman for Dummies" but skipped a few chapters.

//As for men, Yuri’s disdain for them borders on theatrical. He dismisses them as "scum," compares them to pebbles on the street, and claims their mere existence gives him headaches.

//Despite, you know, being a man himself, and not even ignoring that fact.

//You almost expect him to hiss and clutch his pearls whenever a male character enters the room. His double standard is on full display when he refuses to share information with Nikei but spills the beans to Emma without hesitation. It’s no wonder the female cast quickly grows tired of him, with Setsuka, who is typically friendly to everyone, being no exception.

//Despite his aversion to men and his questionable social skills, Yuri isn’t entirely devoid of redeeming qualities. For one, he’s surprisingly pragmatic about being kidnapped, describing himself as a "veteran" of such situations (which begs more questions than it answers). Instead of panicking, he adopts a "make the best of it" attitude, which is almost admirable.

//His long-standing dream of being remembered as a savior by a woman, revealed to be genuine thanks to Kokoro’s emotional detection, adds an oddly tragic layer to his character. He seems prepared to sacrifice himself to achieve this dream, suggesting a deep-seated willingness to place others’ well-being above his own, even if it’s rooted in a peculiar and arguably unhealthy worldview.

//And I wish that some kind of Omake could delve deeper into what made him this way. Although overall, I am glad that Yuri did die here and now so we didn't have to put up with his bullshit through the rest of the game.

//One thing that LINUJ does do that I appreciate a lot is that even when he makes some of the most dogshit or nasty human beings ever, he doesn't keep them around for more than a little while. Even Nikei, who I've said in the past I despise, is tolerable for most of the game before he goes all egomaniacal after his VOID reveal in Chapter 4.

//Speaking of VOID reveals, we will get to that in just a moment, but first, I want to quickly jump in and say that WOW this investigation and trial is GOOD!

//This is by far the most complex opening case of all the one's featured on this list, but it commits to it spectacularly.

//Let's talk about a few points that stood out for me. There are quite a few cool things about this case, but these are the notable ones that kind of make and break this trial for me.

//Starting with one that I kind of already went over, but I'll go into more detail in how it affects the trial is the fact that Mikado is actively PART of what's going on, even though we know he's the one behind the Killing Game itself.

//Which makes this like inviting the wolf to dinner and having him politely help with the dishes.

//Ah cool, I even have a CG for it...

//Despite everyone treating him like public enemy number one, Mikado pulls his weight in the discussion, offering genuine insights and guidance. For me, this creates a fascinating tension, and makes the twist itself pay off in this trial. While his help is invaluable, his status as the mastermind makes everyone, including you, question his motives. There's no guarantee that he's being sincere, or if is this all part of a larger manipulation.

//Mikado’s cooperation not only sets a unique tone for the trial but also makes it clear that in this game, nothing will be as simple as it seems.

//And this is reinforced with who the killer ACTUALLY turns out to be, but...again...that's probably the best part of the trial, so I'll save that for last.

//The second point is how Kokoro Mitsume’s Ultimate Psychologist abilities add an entirely new dynamic to the trial, because she enters the courtroom already knowing the killer’s identity, thanks to her borderline mind-reading skills.

//In short, she reveals that she knows who the killer is based on their facial expressions after she asked them all the same question at the beginning of the trial, which is something that hasn't ever happened before to my knowledge. The only time a non-blackened went into a trial knowing who the killer was immediately was Fuyuhiko, because he was there when it all happened, and technically Tsumugi because of her cheap shot.

//Despite Kokoro being subtle enough throughout this trial, this flips the typical formula on its head. Usually, everyone is equally in the dark, fumbling their way toward the truth, but Kokoro’s quiet confidence and refusal to immediately reveal the killer add suspense, making you wonder when and how she’ll drop the bombshell. It’s like having Sherlock Holmes in the room but with a maddening poker face.

//Which is another reason why I'm so disappointed with her as a character, because I do get that this ability is overpowered, but I WISH that Kokoro had stayed around for more of the game. It might have given me more of a reason to care about her true villainous side that's revealed later.

//This is also the first chance we get to see how Syobai, as our clearly established rival character, acts in the trials and...well...it's certainly DIFFERENT.

//While most rival characters in the series seize control of trials with the swagger of a peacock, i.e. Byakuya’s arrogance, Nagito’s chaos, Kokichi’s antics, and Tsurugi's...Tsurugi-ing...Syobai is the polar opposite.

//He barely participates, and when he does, it’s to sow even more confusion by handing Sora FALSE EVIDENCE.

//Introducing a fake Truth Bullet is a wild departure from the series norm and completely throws off the usual rhythm of deductive gameplay.

//Syobai also chastises others for not taking the trial seriously, all while refusing to lift a finger himself. He’s like the world’s laziest coach yelling from the sidelines. Frustrating, hypocritical, but undeniably entertaining.

//Also, I don't know if I really said this before, but this is by far one of the most entertaining murder traps in the series; at least among the first cases. It's like murder via Rube Goldberg machine.

//The creativity behind Yuri’s murder is equal parts horrifying and ingenious. The killer hoists him to the top of a bell tower using hooks in his ankles and then drops him to his death. A gruesome spectacle in its own right. But it gets even better. The setup doubles as a makeshift zipline for the killer to escape unnoticed, using Yuri’s body as a counterweight.

//It’s a grimly efficient plan that leaves players marveling at the killer’s resourcefulness while trying not to wince at the vivid imagery.

//However...this is also where I kind of want to start talking about what my key problem is with this case...

//To prevent myself from talking in circles, its the fact that this crime was a lot more complicated than it probably NEEDED to be. And quite a lot of it is waffling and ending up at an incorrect conclusion before the killer is ultimately outed.

//Now, it's important to remember that ALL of the first trials in the series DO this. However, all of them do so for a very clear reason:

DR1's first trial had everyone immediately suspect Makoto before the truth around Sayaka's trap, and the fact that Leon didn't understand the subtle problems with Makoto's room, began to come to light. But for most of it, he and Toko corner and berate Makoto to no end, not giving him a chance to speak up for himself before Kyoko ultimately helps him.

The entire first half of DR2's trial is exploring evidence, then pinpointing Nagito as the killer, which turns out to be wrong, and he intentionally leads everyone on. As Hiyoko even points out, by the time the trial phase ends, they aren't any closer to figuring out that Teruteru is the murderer.

V3's trial is dragged out as much as it is because that was Kaede's whole plan. She explores every out to try and find the Mastermind, and only reverts back to standard form and lets herself be outed for her crimes when blame starts to be pinned on Shuichi.

A lot of DRA's trial is trying to find a way to prove the girls are innocent, even though the body is in an area that only they can get to, and drags on for so long because Mitch is a Bitch, and this comes back to bite him massively in the end.

//In the case of this trial, the way it's dragged out is the killer attempts to frame Yoruko by knocking her out and planting her at the crime scene is a clever misdirection...

//...Until you remember Yuri’s obsessive devotion to women.

//As a man who would literally let a woman kill him without resistance, which by the way, he said so himself, framing Yoruko backfires hilariously. Instead of incriminating her, it makes the whole scenario feel absurdly implausible.

//On the one hand, this adds a layer of humor to the trial while also giving Yoruko a chance to prove her subtle importance to the narrative as a character, but on the other...it doesn't feel like the most well-thought out red herring.

//Especially since the killer literally LEAVES ANAESTHETIC at the crime scene, proving that he must have used it SOMEHOW! Yeah, they used it on Yuri first and foremost, but they could've also used it on Yoruko.

//In-universe, maybe its more complex than it appears, but at the same time, if you've played literally any of these games, you already know that there's some bull-fuckery going on.

//As one last little note about this trial, Kanade Otonokoji plays a surprisingly understated role in this trial, which in hindsight is a good move.

//She doesn’t dominate the discussion or reveal her manipulative tendencies outright, but there are subtle hints of her intelligence and sadistic nature lurking beneath her innocent façade.

//This restrained performance makes her eventual unraveling in later cases all the more shocking. For now, she’s content to play the helpful team member, but the cracks in her mask are there for those paying close attention.

//I mean, none of us can argue that her not leading the discussion the whole way through is a plus, because that is what severely brings down A2-2 and A2-3.

//With that being said though, it doesn't really destroy my opinion of the trial, or of the murder method. This is still one of my favourite murder schemes in the series because of the harmony of complexity on paper, simplicity in practice.

//The first trial of SDRA2 is a chaotic cocktail of subversions, creative murder mechanics, and character-driven intrigue. Each element feels fresh, unpredictable, and undeniably engaging, making this opening case a standout moment in the franchise.

//But of course, one thing you might have noticed is that I have forgone mentioning one very critical detail throughout this analysis that is sort of kind of important, and it's mainly because I wanted to save this point as the last thing I covered, because it's one of my favourite parts of the trial:

//The Culprit.

//I don't think I talk about this character enough, but not only is he one of my favourite characters in SDRA2, he's easily my favourite killer, AND my favourite member of VOID for a variety of reasons.

//Hajime Makunouchi is an INSANELY compelling character, and by far one of the most underrated characters in this game.

//At first glance, Makunouchi seems like your friendly neighborhood gym coach. Laidback, health-conscious, and always ready for a chat about wellness. His budding bromance with Shinji, complete with morning exercises, is the kind of wholesome interaction that feels out of place in a killing game, and initially, I really thought that he might be the Chapter 2 killer because of how similar his connection with Shinji was to Taka's connection with Mondo.

//But Hajime isn’t just your average health guru. He has a passive-aggressive edge, quietly resenting those who neglect their well-being.

//It’s almost ironic, then, that the man advocating for self-improvement becomes the first killer, using his physical prowess to orchestrate Yuri’s elaborate demise. And I want to talk about his reasons for doing it a little bit, even though we're all familiar with it.

//If there's one point of commonality between the first-case killers of the DR series, it's that even if there is a sense of nobility in their actions (Teruteru and Kaede being the key examples) their motivations ultimately all boil down to them acting in their own best interests.

//For Mitch in the previous game, it was pure selfishness with a distinct lack of layers to it. But for Makunouchi, there are some very interesting layers to it.

//Hajime's motivation to murder Yuri was not just for HIS benefit, and it wasn't done out of spite, or any particular distaste towards Yuri. He was just an easy target...and Makunouchi is a member of VOID.

//For context, VOID is first brought up by Mikado in the prologue just before his reveal as the Mastermind. He claims its an organization that he runs, but it only props up in one easily-missed line of dialogue.

//It all comes crashing back here when Makunouchi reveals that he is a MEMBER of this organization, and that the OTHER members are also hiding among the main cast of the game.

//As you know, VOID turned out to be one of the most disappointing group of villains I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with.

//HOOOWEEEVERR. As a design, a function, and a concept in a Danganronpa game, they are SO FUCKING COOL!

//And Makunouchi alone sells them as a group. Not only is he the best member OF them, but his reveal of his true identity and motive is AMAZING! It somehow raises the stakes EVEN HIGHER than Mikado's reveal of the Mastermind did!

//And with a few minor exceptions, it's actually a fairly original concept as far as Dangans n' Fangans go.

//In the classic Danganronpa formula, the mastermind usually operates solo or with a few cronies in the background, namely Junko and the Ultimate Despair, but for the most part, Junko's a lone wolf when it comes to the killing games. She even kills off her OWN support (Mukuro) immediately, and outs her backup support (Sakura) personally later down the line.

//Mikado and VOID’s setup flips this on its head. By revealing there are four additional traitors working among the participants, SDRA2 transforms from a whodunit murder mystery into a high-stakes game of Mafia/Werewolf.

//Now, every player isn’t just looking over their shoulder for potential killers; they’re wondering who’s secretly pulling strings for Mikado.

//Hajime’s confession didn’t just expose him. It broke the trust between everyone else. In the original Danganronpa games, trust is always a fragile thing, but here, it’s obliterated.

//With the knowledge that nearly 20% of the cast is actively working against them, every smile becomes suspect, every friendly interaction a potential ploy. The game went from a deathmatch to a psychological warfare simulator, and watching the characters struggle to maintain alliances or even basic conversations while knowing they might be talking to a VOID operative added a level of tension that few fan games, or even official titles, have managed to replicate.

//When SDRA2 was releasing chapter by chapter, the VOID twist ignited a storm of fan theories that rivaled Game of Thrones Reddit discussions. People debated endlessly about who could be VOID and why they would join Mikado, and theories ranged from the plausible to the downright absurd, because of course, everything’s canon until it’s not.

//The uncertainty surrounding VOID was a masterstroke because it didn’t just engage the characters. It turned the audience into detectives. Every piece of dialogue, every facial expression, every random aside was scrutinized for potential VOID subtext.

//For a game that was being released chapter by chapter instead of all at once, this was an INGENIOUS move on LINUJ's part.

//Makunouchi’s revelation also underscored just how bleak the situation was. In the original series, you at least had the comfort of knowing most of the cast were victims of circumstance. Here, SDRA2 threw that out the window.

//The idea that four other participants chose to align themselves with Mikado added a layer of existential dread. It’s one thing to fight against a singular antagonist, but knowing your friends might willingly be helping them? That’s enough to make even the strongest bonds crumble. Mikado’s genius wasn’t just in the killing game itself; it was in weaponizing human relationships and trust.

//The VOID twist elevated SDRA2 by introducing a more complex narrative structure and forcing characters and players alike to grapple with themes of loyalty, deception, and moral ambiguity.

//It's not just about solving murders anymore. It's about unraveling a web of conspiracies while trying not to get caught in it yourself. And let’s be honest: the twist gave the fandom so much to talk about.

//But putting that aside, it's not just the moment itself that makes Makunouchi my favourite villain in this game.

//Once Makunouchi is exposed as Yuri’s killer, his personality does a complete 180, flipping faster than a pancake on a hot griddle, as most twist villains in this series tend to do.

//At first, he’s shockingly chill about the whole murder thing, and justifies his actions as being part of a grander conspiracy for a good cause, and...there's some truth to this. But when his execution is brought up, the chill evaporates. He flies into a rage, threatening to expose Void’s secrets if Mikado doesn’t let him go, as though threatening the mastermind would somehow work.

//Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

//But what really sold me on him is what we find out about him AFTER the fact.

//Via Void Theater of all things.

//Not only does Makunouchi have an incredibly engaging backstory and life prior to this game that really define what sort of person he presents himself as in SDRA2's Killing Game, but his time in the Void Theatre is where the layers of his character start to peel back.

//His cocky, self-assured exterior crumbles, revealing a man somewhat haunted by his actions. He begins to show genuine remorse for killing Yuri, realizing how far he and the rest of Void have strayed from their humanity in search of their ultimate goal.

//His claims about genuinely enjoying the time spent with his fellow participants feel surprisingly earnest in hindsight, adding a tragic edge to his story. Hajime wanted to be better, but his role in Void and the circumstances of the game made that impossible. In a way, he’s a victim of his own aspirations. A man who sought improvement but ended up losing himself along the way.

//By the end, he’s made peace with his fate, even finding the strength to reconcile with Nikei and Emma. He even makes one last request to hear one of Emma's god-awful puns. It’s a bittersweet moment that shows how far he's come, from health nut to killer to a man seeking redemption that he may never really get.

//He's just...such a good and underappreciated character in this game, and besides...a certain someone...who one could argue barely even counts, he is EASILY the best first-killer in the series. Especially in the way he defies the preconcieved ideas that LINUJ advocates through his work.

//Hajime Makunouchi is proof that people, by nature, are multi-faceted, capable of both terrible deeds and sincere growth. And hey, if nothing else, his arc proves one thing: just because someone’s good at cardio doesn’t mean they’re not running from their problems.

//But yeah, that's really it. The only reason why SDRA2 Case 1 fails to make the top 10 is that it's just not as good a mystery as the trials that come after it, but what it DOES do right, it knocks out of the park. 10/10 no notes.

//This trial is one of the best fan-made cases ever, simply because it perfectly encapsulates what Danganronpa is all about.

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #mod talks #ranking #danganronpa another 2 #sdra2 #yuri kagarin #hajime makunouchi #dangancember 2024

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blu3-j · 2 years ago

Text

Welcome...Home..?

Overworked! GN! Reader x Welcome Home Crew

Chapter 3

Tw: Break down (Reader experiences a small break down), overall a bit of crying

Hoo, boy! This one's a long one! Strap in everybody!

So, as we left off, reader gets introduced to their...interesting situation, but doesn't have much time to process it before having to head in to work. What happens when the reader actually has a moment to process it? But the reader's not the only one in the story! The entire crew is here! So, how are they dealing with this stressful new situation?

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 l Chapter 3 l Chapter 4

The day had gone by busy as usual. The restaurant was so busy that you were barely able to squeeze in a break. Just a small part of your shift, 2 buses had stopped by within the first few hours of you clocking in. Why, in all the world's name, did people decide to take a bus to a restaurant this early in the morning??? While one of your managers was kind enough, the other never bothered to care about anything more than their basic job, deciding to stay in the back office and never leaving unless a customer requested to see them. Any coworkers that had any sort of complaint or wanted to take a break were directed to the other manager. Thank god the nice manager was on today. It was torture when it was just the lousy one.

As for your classes, you only had one today. When you first scheduled your classes, you made note to keep them simple as they could easily pile up. What you didn't take into account was how busy work would be, and the class itself was labor intensive and required you to talk to so many people. You scheduled this class to be on its own for a reason, but it still dragged you down six feet under for energy.

The day felt as though it was never going to end. Little did you know, a little surprise waited for you when you finally found time to eat your packed lunch. A little note sat on the top of the simple meal, folded neatly with a caterpillar doodle drawn on the top fold.

"Y/N, it's wonderful to get to meet you! I knew you were a hard worker when I saw how peaceful you were sleeping this morning. According to your calendar, you're even busier than me! I noticed how dirty the house was, so I cleaned up a little. I hope you don't mind! You seemed so exhausted, and it's the least I can do to help make your already busy life easier. I hope you have a great day, shrimp! Make your day worth it to you! We're so proud of you, already! Signed, Howdy P."

It was small, but his written words made your day a little bit brighter. You almost found yourself smiling. The paper crinkled as you folded it up gently and put it in your pocket.

By the end of the day, you were once again exhausted---more than that, actually. It wasn't uncommon for you to be barely walking from exhaustion at the end of the day, and as much as you so dearly wanted to go home, the moment you sat down in the driver seat of your car you hesitated to turn the ignition key. The puppets were still there. Waiting for you. While you didn't think they would hurt you, your stomach twisted and churned at the idea of having to face that entire problem that you've been running from all day.

So you didn't.

Rather, you drove to the nearby library. By now the sun was already setting, and a little voice in the back of your mind urged you to go home. "Maybe you'll have some free time to do what you want," it whispered. "Maybe you'll have time to play some video games or go on a walk down that old path you used to love so much." But you didn't listen.

The bell above the door rang as you walked in. Unlike most libraries, it had a small cafe cove in the corner for those like you: completely exhausted and in college. It wasn't too far from the college you attended---just a block or two away---it was maybe a 5--10 minute walk at most from the college's main entrance to there. But you were tired enough as is, and walking was something you could barely do at the moment, so your car rested in its small parking lot. As you trudged through the entrance, the cove caught your attention. "Maybe a little bit of caffeine will do me some good."

Due to the lax nature of the building, there weren't many people that crowded the cove, so it didn't take nearly as long to get your coffee/tea as some places in town did. Not that you would know. This cove was the only coffee place you really ever went to for any sort of coffee or tea. Or at least for fresh and ready-to-drink on the go.

The cup warmed your hands as you held it gently to yourself and slowly trudged to a nearby table in the library. "Maybe I could take this chance to finally read that book I've been hearing so many things about." It was decided, then. You dropped your bag on the floor---a bit harder than you meant to---and set your caffeine salvation down to look for the book. When you finally found it, it had been buried in between the various other books; dusty and barely opened. A librarian friend of yours had once recommended it to you months ago, and now you finally set aside the time to read it.

"The Fall of it All" By Robin Feather

You found yourself quickly enthralled by the book. The story was of a servant named Eline serving princess and future queen Cassandra. The young eccentric princess quickly became close to Eline, and very soon began to allude to more secrets within the castle and its royal government. Upon the discovery of each hidden secret, Eline finds themselves further and further trapped in the middle of it all. Eline never once says a thing in the book; rather allowing the other characters and setting to tell the story around them. It brought a surprisingly well twist to the normal story-telling format. By the time you had ripped your attention from the book it was completely dark outside. That little voice in the back of your mind taunted you. "You can't keep running forever."

You sighed, and put a hastily made bookmark in between the pages. Maybe this would be nice to read at home. "And maybe reading it won't bring its characters to real life so they can live in my house." You chuckled at the thought. How ironic the situation you found yourself in was.

Thud.

You threw your empty cup in the trash bin. You had to rummage through your bag, but at the very bottom hid your library card. You wish you had more free time to come here more often like you originally planned, but you didn't have time for much of anything, anymore. The librarian quickly rang it up for you to borrow, and handed the pristine book back to you. With a final heave, you hoisted your bag on your shoulders.

"I can't keep running forever," you mumbled to yourself. It was completely dark out, with the only light being the occasional street lamp and the light from inside the library peeking out its windows. The cover on the book looked appealing, illuminated by the light's warm glow. If only you could just run away and forget it all.

But even Eline had to face their problems.

"I guess I can face mine, too."

The car ride home was quiet, with the radio softly playing whatever was deemed popular enough to bring in listeners. It was peaceful. Too peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Your heart sank at the thought of facing those puppets again. They act so real...so..alive. Car headlights blinded you again and again as they passed you by, until eventually they were rarely seen on the road at all. Not many ever came up this far. Buildings turned to empty plains and then to forest as the world blurred by. You turned onto an all too familiar dirt road. Every gravel piece that your tires rolled over felt like another nail in the coffin. Another second closer to a dreadful climax.

The house was dark when you finally rolled in your car and parked. Were they asleep? Do they even sleep? Your heavy shoulders relaxed a little upon the thought. Maybe you won't have to face them, afterall. A gentle tired smile graced your face, and with a final sigh, you pulled out your keys and they jingled as you inserted one in the keyhole.

Click!

It was dark and quiet inside. It almost made you want to believe that what had happened this morning hadn't happened at all. Almost. You couldn't see far into the house, but from what you did see, your bookshelf in the hallway had been organized alphabetically, and the dust and webs had been wiped from the tables and nooks. Why is it so quiet? Finally, you closed the door behind you, engulfing you entirely in an inky black.

"SURPRISE!!!" A chorus of voices overwhelmed you, and the lights were turned on. After you recovered from the scare, you noticed how much more...lively the house was. Home-made banners and streamers adorned the ceiling, and colorful balloons and confetti were spread across the floor. One banner in particular read "WELCOME HOME, Y/N!!!" It was so colorful. The lights were so warm. And in the middle of it all stood the ones responsible for it. The cast of colorful puppets you had gotten to somewhat know this morning.

"I...uh..." You stammered, wide-eyed at the scene. How do you react to this? Most of them stayed silent and stared at you with expectant eyes. All for one, however. Julie.

"Y/N, you're finally back! Oh my gosh, we were waiting sooooo long! But you're back now! Wally, Howdy, and Barnaby said how scary this all must be for you like how we're all kinda scared right now, so I thought we could throw a surprise party for you! Oh, we have so much planned!" She dashed to your side and tugged on your shirt, beckoning for you to come forward. She pointed to each puppet as she rambled. "Sally has a short play, Barnaby has a comedy act, Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and me made cookies and cake, and Eddie and Wally made the decorations and some of the games!" A single utterance was made from Frank as she talked, correcting her grammar.

"Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and I. Not me, Julie." Julie paid Frank no mind, too enveloped in her excitement to notice him talk.

It all felt like too much. Too much all at once. Your body took a mind of its own as you excused yourself to the bathroom. When you had dipped out of sight into the hallway, you instead found yourself locking yourself in your bedroom. Before you had even curled yourself up on the floor in front of the door, you heard a voice.

"Y/N?" Wally. He always seemed to know when you were distressed. How? He softly knocked on the door. You didn't have the energy right now. You didn't have the bravery right now. "Please talk to me, Y/N." The room went silent as he paused. You refused to move. "Y/N," He continued. "I know this is scary. I'm scared, too. Please, let me in so we can talk. Or maybe just a hug?" Your face felt hot again. And your chest ached. You buried your face in your knees, feeling them slowly begin to grow warm and wet. Wally's voice turned gentle as he leaned into the door. "It's okay, Y/N. I'm right here." A quiet moment rolled by, then the doorknob turned. But it stopped halfway. You had locked it. Staring at the doorknob, you finally meekly unlocked it before shying away from the doorway and hid your face.

Light poured into the dark room as Wally opened the door. "Wally, is Y/N okay?" Julie called out. Hushed voices filled the hallway and into the bedroom from the living room. Wally stared at you for a moment longer before turning back to the hallway.

"I'm going to talk to Y/N for a bit, okay? Everything's going to be okay." He smiled as Julie mumbled an "okay" and he quietly closed the door. The room was engulfed in darkness once more. "Y/N," the small yellow puppet walked forward and crouched down in an attempt to see your down-turned face. "Oh, Y/N. Dearest Y/N." His felt hand reached up to brush the hair out of your face. "Can you talk to me?" You remained silent, barely glancing at his face before looking away. That's when you felt him push your legs away from your torso and crawl into your lap. You gasped and looked at him, but by the time you saw his face, it was buried in your chest, his arms lay limp at his sides. What was he doing? His monotone robotic laughter echoed through the room. "I don't know how to hug." His eyes looked up into yours as his smile widened and his would-be eyebrows furrowed. "Could you show me?" The ache in your chest was too painful. Too much.

And you broke. You don't know how long it was when you finally stopped crying and loosened your hold on him. You don't know how long it was when he finally spoke up after your quiet restrained sobs stopped. "It's okay. I'm right here." He brushed the tears from your cheeks. He didn't like that his hands were getting wet and your tears would soak deep into his felt and stuffing inside, but he could make a small exception for you. You needed the comfort, and as somebody that you're going to be forced to live with until they can go back to Home, it's the least he could do. You were just as scared as he was. So, for now, he could be the braver one.

You looked into his eyes. Despite them being fake, they felt so comforting to look at. The dark black pools that sucked away the light that shined on them felt familiar. You had seen those same dark eyes in many of your stuffed plushies growing up. You had seen those same dark eyes in the teddy bear your great grandmother gave you when you were little. You hugged Wally close one last time, being more careful to not accidentally hurt the little puppet. "Do they even get hurt?" You brushed the thought to the side. Things are going to be okay. So you took in one last long breath, and wiped your eyes. A smile fell on your face as you looked back down to him. His eyes feel so alive. He is alive. He's just like you. You gently pulled him off your lap and stood up and reached for the door. The doorknob felt so cold. The hushed voices continued on the other side of the door. Your stomach churned again.

"It's okay." Wally watched you carefully. His small hand grasped yours and he squeezed. His favorite thing to do, it seemed. "I'm right here with you. You don't have to be scared."

So you took that final leap, and opened the door. Eyes were instantly on the two of you the moment light seeped into the room. Julie was on the couch with Eddie, the short puppet with a star/sun shaped head, and the large blue dog you hadn’t met yet attempting to comfort her. Frank was busy reading another book, but occasionally glancing at Julie, his furrowed brows raising and his frown twitching down a smidge every time he did. Poppy and Howdy were talking to one another closely a bit away from everyone else. Everyone looked to you. Things were quiet. The air was heavy.

Then Julie hopped up from her spot on the couch and ran over. "Y/N!!" She hugged your legs and buried her face. "I'm so so sorry!! I thought if we did a party, everything would be okay and everyone would be happy but you weren't and you ran away and we were all so worried for you and I'M SO SORRY!" She wailed into the side of your pants as she gripped you tighter, apologizing over and over and over. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. So you bent down to her level instead and hugged her close. She really was worried. You found yourself glancing at the others. All of them were.

When Julie's rambling seemed to continue (how in all goodness was she not out of breath yet?) you took it as a sign to interrupt her.

"It's okay, Julie. You're right. I'm scared, too. I was so overwhelmed when I came back that I wanted to run away again. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. I don't even know how you all can even exist here!" You chuckled as you pulled away to look her in the face. Your voice was shaky and quiet, but she could hear you. And she did. Her eyes sparkled. Just as always. Your vision began to go blurry again, and your face felt hot. "I've been trying to avoid you guys all day! When I got done with work and school, I went to the library instead. I was too scared. But I had to come home. I had to face everything. I had to face you guys, and I was too scared to go through with it." You wiped your eyes. Everything was crushing in on you again. Julie touched your arm. You're not alone. She's here. Wally's here. Everyone's here. "But I'm going to be brave now."

Her smile grew, and her eyes sparkled more. How is that even possible? Her arms quickly wrapped around you. Everything felt lighter now. The tension was still there, but things weren't caving in on you anymore. "This is going to take a long while to get used to."

Julie spoke up, her voice barely a whisper. "Then I'll be brave with you."

The rest of the night blurred by. You finally were able to be formally introduced to the final three you hadn’t met this morning. The blue dog is Barnaby, a jokester who loves to make people laugh and have a good time himself. The tall green one with multiple limbs is Howdy, a bodega shop owner that’s named his place the “Bugdega.” And lastly, the little yellow star being indeed a star puppet named Sally. All she wanted to do was be a metaphorical star.

The baked goods that Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and Julie made were...sweeter than anything you had really ever had, and each was decorated in colorful frosting (even the things that didn't need frosting). Barnaby did his best act with the props he could find in your house, and while he got everyone else to laugh, you didn't. So, he made it his mission to get you to laugh. The rest of the night, he made various jokes and acts, and eventually he heard it. A giggle. A laugh. Finally, you were doubled over in laughter, wiping tears from your eyes as he laughed with you. A few games were played while the others tried to keep Julie from making any of them too complicated, complaining that they didn't understand any of it. Mistakes were made, rules were broken, laughter was shared, and people (specifically Eddie) tripped and stumbled throughout the entirety of it.

Finally, the lights were turned way down low as you all grouped on the couch. Eddie had taken the job of directing the lights with a special hand-made spotlight, and Julie and Wally worked to keep the special effects going. As Sally acted her play, confetti acting as flower petals were thrown, backgrounds were occasionally changed during Sally's monologues, and they occasionally acted as extras in the background. You never got to see how it ended. Sally was in another one of her monologues when you found your eyelids getting heavy and the person next to you being extremely comfy.

A soft blanket wrapped around you as with two arms. Sally's voice faded further and further away as you leaned into the person. And with one last quiet sigh, you let the sweet appeal of sleep consume you.

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crescentmoonrider · 1 month ago

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another rewrite, except longer

Well, Arcane season 2 was certainly. Something

You can really see that the team was under pressure to put out a lot of things, and fast. Like, without mentioning how crammed this season was or the themes that were dropped, there was a shocking amount of continuity and characterization errors that should and would have been caught during script editing if the team was allowed more time. For one single example : the timeline of Vander and Silco’s falling out was completely butchered to the point it makes zero sense if we take the information from season 1 and 2 together. This should have been fixed during editing, and the fact it wasn’t reveals some deep issues with production

(My guess is that Riot pushed a release date for commercial tie-in reasons, and the one place the team could really cut corners was during writing, since animation is a slow process and Fortiche would depend on the scripts (or a rough outline at first) to get to work, and the music collaborations also require time + supplementary animation that all depends on the script to just. Exist. And Riot can more easily pressure its in-house teams than music producers and artists independent from the company. But that’s just a personal guess, I don’t actually know anything about the behind the scenes here)

Honestly I’ve been kind of simmering in the disappointment and wasted potential this whole week, and it’s been somewhat of an issue to focus on other stuff, so here’s what I’m going to do : I’m going to explain how I would rewrite this season to try and make it, if not good, then at least coherent with itself and with the themes developed in season 1. And then I’m never going to write anything else about this show again

Deal ?

Alright, let’s do this. Some ground rules first :

we’re working with just the one three-act season 2. Riot wants to move on to greener pastures to introduce more champions and skins, and we’re not winning against the corporate overlords. No added episodes, no season 3 to help pace things better. Welcome to hell

most of the issues I have with season 2 come from the second and third acts, so that’s what I’m going to focus on for the most part

I’m not introducing new characters or locations. Helps that I don’t know anything about League lmao, but more broadly what I mean is like. I’m in the writers room moving post-its on the wall, not writing a 200k fanfiction over like 10 years (real thing I’m currently doing for an A:tlA canon divergence if anyone’s wondering), I don’t have the time, nor the energy honestly, to make sweeping changes and consider their ramifications. We’re keeping things simple, basically

related to the above point, we’re keeping major plot beats. That means Magic Robot Jesus Viktor still happens, as does the Ekko-Heimerdingdong-Jayce dimensional displacement, or the battle against Ambessa’s troops. What I’m going to do is try to make them happen in a more natural, thematically resonant manner. Because I’m convinced it’s possible

Now, having said that, the first order of business for this rewrite (and honestly just, to make this season like. Coherent) is to make space for the plot and the themes. Class warfare and the question of Zaun’s independence were introduced in season 1 and still echo through act 1 and (in one episode) 2 of the second season, and the ending scene makes an attempt to bring them back with Sevika’s seat at the Council, so clearly the goal wasn’t to give that up entirely. Meaning we need to expand on those themes specifically, since familial bonds (the other main Arcane ingredient) are still very much there in the plot with little need to add onto them

Anyway the Black Rose plotline has to go. “But Yumi, didn’t you say you were keeping major plot beats ?” yeah this is the one exception. Look, it just doesn’t cohere. It has no thematic resonance, takes place in a completely different space than the rest of the plot, and basically only involves one single character. It was also the least established plot thread from the first season. Kino died and Ambessa made enemies, and so she wants Hextech. There’s no real need to elaborate on any of this in Arcane specifically. We’re cutting it. Mel can say that she’s going to look into her mother’s enemies/the people who killed her brother in her epilogue or something, and Riot can make a whole spinoff about her quest to find out she’s a mage and still get a shiny new champion out of it, or whatever it is they’re doing with her

Like I said. Idk anything about League. Please don’t tell me anything about League

Cutting out the Black Rose plotline does two things for this rewrite :

it frees up important time that can be spent on elaborating on pre-established themes and plotlines, thus making up for what is in my opinion the weakest and most disappointing aspect of season 2, which is that they completely dropped the ball on class warfare

it frees up Mel’s character

We do need to quickly address the reason Mel survives Jinx’s missile at the start of the season, since she was right in the crosshairs, but that can be done very easily honestly – I may not know shit about League, but I remember the post-season 1 theories, and there were mentions of an in-game item that acts like a magic shield or something ? We’re gonna say she was wearing something of the like, just in case something ever happened. Because she’s been raised in Noxus, by Ambessa, and doesn’t trust that she won’t ever be attacked, even in Piltover. If Ambessa and her guard can have anti-magic runes, Mel can have a force-field

It’s single-use and she only took one of these shields when she was cast off, so no more easy out for her

There’s no need to explain why Jayce barely got a scratch in my opinion, sometimes people are just lucky. It’s not uncommon for survivors of like, car crashes or terror attacks, to just have a light concussion while the guy next to them died. Things happen. Survivor’s guilt is real, and random chance plays a role no matter how much we’d like to think it doesn’t

Anyway back to Mel

Since she isn’t a mage in this rewrite, we’re having her “be the fox” so to speak. She knows Ambessa, knows not to trust her, and does her best to oppose Noxian influence over Piltover as part of the council – however, as we’ve seen happen in episode 1, right now her influence has dwindled, and all she can do is try to limit the damage. This does not get any better when Ambessa gets Caitlyn propelled to the role of puppet dictator and Jayce vanishes

If Mel wants to counter Ambessa’s plans and preserve Piltover from becoming some sort of fucked up military experiment, she cannot do it alone. She needs allies. People she can trust would never agree with Ambessa’s ambitions, and who could both weaken Noxus’ influence and help Mel regain some of her counterbalancing weight – but also, and this is always key to negotiation and alliances, people who could benefit from what Mel has to offer

Her options are limited, but since Ambessa is using the conflict with Zaun as fuel for her campaign, well. If you can’t fight a fire directly, you need to starve it. Mel, through her Zaunite catgirl informant, gets in touch with what undercity “leaders” she can find. Namely Sevika and the Firelights’ lieutenant

We can find an echo of this decision in the discussion between Jayce and Silco in season 1, specifically this line : “I was reminded recently of what brought us together in the first place. The threats beyond our walls.”

Now, obviously her offer for parlay gets rejected at first. Neither Piltover nor Mel (as both a Council member and Noxian) have earned Zaun’s trust at this point

But the situation isn’t getting any better, Ambessa gathers troops to pick up Vanderwick at Viktor’s commune, and Jinx isn’t showing up anywhere to keep morale high and unite Zaun’s people under a strong symbol. Sevika thinks back to Silco leaving to go on a meeting with Jayce and negotiate their independence, and while she’s always preferred to serve the cause by following someone who actually has plans on how to get things done, right now there’s no one like that left. Ekko’s second looks at the tree’s leaves falling and realizes that they’ll have to make a new place if this one falls apart, and right now there’s nowhere in Zaun that is safe enough for that, no place that is safe for the children here

They already agreed to unite old enemies once before, leaderless goons and Firelights and Jinxers, all under the banner of Zaun. It didn’t work, sure, but they tried. They showed up at the meeting. Sevika called the meeting. The two agree to meet with Mel once, to see what she wants

Ideally we’d have a scene where we contrast the Firelights coming to a communal decision on what to do and their list of demands, with Sevika writing her list on her own while some knuckleheads roughhouse it in the background (maybe Sevika even pulls out the manifesto Silco was writing in the flashback for reference, again as contrast – and continuity – with the Firelights, with the past and present/future of Zaun’s independence movement all tying together here). We’re on a tight schedule though, so maybe part of that scene’s hitting the cutting room floor, idk

Anyway Mel makes a request for peace, to cut the grass under Ambessa’s foot so she has no standing anymore to justify her takeover of Piltover, and Sevika and the Firelight guy make their demands. Independence, amnesty for all Zaunite freedom-fighters rotting in Stillwater, access to trade routes, control over the ventilation system (it’s not independence if someone else controls the air you breathe. Or your water, or your electricity. Free Palestine) etc. We can add more clauses, but those would be the main ones

The meeting would be tense at first, since none of these people really trust each other, but they soon realize they’re all desperate to make things better in some way, so they do shake hands at the end even though no deal has been reached yet. They’re not going to become friends, but they can work together and honestly ? That’s already a lot

The sticking point would be Jinx, of course, but thankfully she’s letting herself get arrested by act 3 so we can leave that aside for now. Sevika and Firelights insist that they don’t give up their own, though. Loyalty is the only thing Zaunites can count on, after all

Now, before moving on to act 3, there’s still a little housekeeping to do

First, we need to fix the fuckiness of the Vander flashbacks and his letter to Silco. Like, the falling out between the two could not have happened after the tragedy at the bridge, for multiple reasons. For one, the Vander drowning Silco in season 1 was shaved clean, while the Vander at the bridge has his full beard on. For two, you’re telling me Vander dropped his gloves and picked up the girls and supposedly brought them home, shaved his beard, then went back up to the Pilt to drown his best friend, in what’s supposed to be horrible grief and anger and not premeditation ? It just doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t compel me either

Anyway, I’m not opposed to Vander writing the letter to Silco after the girls’ mom died, in a “I’ve just lost my other best friend and I’m now realizing I went about everything the wrong fucking way and I’m so sorry” kind of way. So that’s what the letter is now, an apology that’s much too late to fix anything, and an attempt at bridging a gap of many years between two people who used to be comrades

And obviously we’re getting rid of the bit of flashback where it’s implied Silco accidentally killed the girls’ mom with a Molotov because that’s just stupid. We don’t need to know what he and Vander broke up over, but it can’t be something that weakens the themes of police brutality and oppression. And don’t “cycle of violence is also a theme” me, they’re revolutionary leaders, they’ve made mistakes and got their people killed or arrested before. You don’t get called the Hound of the Underground without brutally killing a couple few dudes, and that shit has repercussions

Another point before we move on to act 3 is the question of what the hell Sky is supposed to be. In a show that has always been really good at making clear what is a hallucination and what isn’t, Sky’s existence in Viktor’s mind… perplexes me. I interpreted her presence as a manifestation of his guilt over her death and the wasted potential of her too-short life, and how he now wishes he had like, acknowledged her while she was still by his side and not dust. But other people think she’s been idk, absorbed into the arcane ? And that it was therefore the real Sky hanging out with Viktor

In short, it needs to be clearer what’s going on here, and given the fact that they don’t develop Sky’s character and that her whole tragedy is that her life was cut short so suddenly, I think leaning into the idea of her as a manifestation of guilt and Viktor’s isolation (he knows all of his followers, but is still separate from them both physically and in the fact that they do not know what he’s about, and also he’s just lost all two of his friends) would be interesting

Makes the later “I will miss our conversations” “No, you won’t” line more impactful too, as it would be Viktor’s conscience calling him out on the fact that, like, he never really talked to Sky while she was alive. He is missing the idea of her, and trying to make himself feel better about accidentally murdering her when he is now also actively trying to make himself incapable of feeling regret anymore, and thus incapable of learning from his mistakes the way he did when Sky died

With that said, on to act 3 !

Episode 7 is like, very good already, and the fact that it gets time travel right ? Beautiful. Love to see it. The main thing I would change is that there is no way Ekko would think Vi’s death is the only catalyst for change in this world. Like, the divergence is much older than that – and I’m not just talking about Silco finding the letter, I mean that Zaun is just, actively participating in Piltovian culture and events ? They’re part of the Inventors Contest ?? How the hell did that happen ???

I’m not saying we need a detailed timeline, but simply that someone (Ekko) should really remark on that

Also Silco’s eye should be fucked, maybe even gone, if he didn’t have access to Singed’s help to maintain it. Him becoming “good” should not mean that his disability is prettier to look at, and honestly I hate that ugly disabilities tend to be shorthand for evil characters in media. It’s not unique to Arcane, but it was especially disappointing to see it done to Silco of all characters, when his disability was dealt with so gracefully in season 1

We’ll come back to Jayce’s little dimensional trip later, for now it’s fine

Now, the preparations for the battle against Ambessa’s troops… I mean, first of all no one from Zaun is getting put in an enforcer uniform, like what the fuck ?! But also the plan and the way it’s explained changes – no we need your help to save Piltover, it’s “we need your help to save the world,” with an insistence that it doesn’t change the justified resentment Zaun holds for Piltover, but that this fight is also for the sake of their own survival, as Jayce very clearly saw that everything will be ruined if Viktor reaches his goal. Mel’s talks with Sevika and the Firelights also come into play here, as they can now more easily put conditions on their help, and Mel is more likely to agree to push for Zaun’s interests

Most of the city is still evacuated, no one wants a massacre of civilians, but focusing the fighting solely on the Hexgates is just. Look, Ambessa is an experienced military leader, she knows how to lay a siege and fight against conventional military techniques. So the defence now has two layers, proposed by Mel as she knows to use every advantage she can grab. She is the fox in this rewrite, remember

At the Hexgates, enforcers and Piltovan volunteers will man the cannons and more or less do what they did in canon. The other layer is built on the Mel/Zaun collaboration and guerrilla tactics. The goal is to disrupt Ambessa’s troops and their advance and prevent a frontal clash at the Hexgates as much as possible, as Mel anticipates it would be what Ambessa is expecting and would thus be prepared for. With the help of Mel and her knowledge of Piltover’s streets (and possibly Caitlyn’s map of the ventilation system, and whatever other cool tricks might be built into the city. Inventors made this place, there’s bound to be interesting things going on), Sevika, as well as gang members and Jinxers and the Firelights who agreed to/can fight (children were evacuated) lay traps and plan for ambushes and ways to make as much damage as possible without engaging frontally

Academy members help pitch the Firelights’ hoverboards so they can move about efficiently in Piltover’s lighter air. Weapons are greased and sharpened, explosives raided from Jinx’s place and passed around for the teams that need them. Ekko’s lieutenant passes a screwdriver to Sevika, who makes sure her arm is all ready for combat. Mel enters the room to ask how the preparations are going, and the two Zaunite leaders exchange a nod before Sevika hands Mel a dagger, just in case she finds herself in the line of fire. “Wouldn’t want to lose our one ally topside,” one of them says, and it’s pretty obvious that they agreed to this beforehand. When they all leave the room, Mel stands alone, looking down at the blade in her hands

Now, is a fight on multiple fronts hard to plan for and choreograph? Yes. Good thing I’m not animating any of this !

Notable moments would include Caitlyn leaving her post because she can’t see Maddie where she’s supposed to be, and that’s when she finds Maddie trying to do acts of sabotage. She hesitates, clearly still holding affection for her, but her presence has alerted the Firelights’s current leader, and he flies to take out Maddie right as Maddie notices Caitlyn and prepares to shoot her in turn. Caitlyn thanks him and apologizes for hesitating, he grunts and leaves to take care of more things a little farther away

Caitlyn now being down in the streets, where the guerrilla is going on, leads to her losing an eye while saving a Zaunite, not hesitating this time. Tempted to say she saves Sevika, as they have a conflict-filled history together and it would demonstrate Caitlyn’s growth and her ability to put grudges behind for the greater good (and not just for Vi’s sake as she’s already shown when letting her free Jinx) and mark the start of her efforts to make up for the suffering she’s inflicted on the people of Zaun. We’re not going to see much of these efforts because the series is ending soon, but it’s important to show that the seeds are there for reparations

In any case, Ambessa doesn’t get her cool one-on-two duel with Caitlyn and mage!Mel, since we’re not stopping the fighting this time, and also Mel isn’t a mage. Sevika and the Firelights’ lieutenant two-time her at some point, Sevika gets knocked to the ground, while his ride is destroyed and he is sent flying into a fountain or something. Ambessa prepares to deal the final blow on Sevika, who struggles with the handle of her arm’s wheel of fortune, when someone stabs her from behind. She turns around, striking her assailant with one fist, revealing Mel, who looks up at her mother in grief and pain and horror. Focus on Mel’s eyes (“[…] you weakened me ! I couldn’t stand the look in your eyes when I made the decisions, the necessary decisions to keep us safe !” is the idea) as Ambessa pauses for just a second, distracted. That’s a mistake she can’t take back, even as she raises her weapon again, and the maw of Sevika’s arm bites down on her neck like a wolf taking down a prey, the jackpot smile flashing on her shoulder

She helps Mel (still upset about having stabbed her mom, been hit by her in turn, then watched her die brutally, but trying to hide it) get back up and gives her a pat on the shoulder and a “thanks” while turning away

And that’s when the robots come in and everyone’s mind is slowly taken over

(The fight against Ambessa would have been intercut with Hexgate fighting as Viktor’s cocoon slowly approaches, with the empty cocoon reveal coming only after her defeat)

So now we reach the Jayce and Viktor face-off. And honestly ? I only have like, two changes to make here. I’m fine with it. I think I’ve said it before, but I’m fine with most of this season, just not the way it was executed

Anyway change the first ! Viktor actually corrects Jayce on his motivations as I already went over real quick in this post – it’s not about fixing what Viktor sees as imperfections, it’s about putting an end to all conflict, oppression, class warfare, and the environmental results of all that that made him slowly and painfully die. I also need him to go “My disease ? My disease was not beautiful, Jayce, it destroyed my body from the inside ! I was fine being a cripple* but this pain ? Dying before I could truly help anyone ? That’s not beautiful, that’s just, just… unfair, and cruel, and for what ? So Piltover never has to see its own sewage, or breathe the same air as we do ?” and then from there go on about how the Great Evolution is about changing humanity for the good of everyone, so no one has to suffer unnecessarily from the greed and selfish desires of other people, and to put an end to all inequalities

*Viktor self-identifies as a “poor cripple from the Undercity” in season 1 episode 2 I’m not calling him slurs I just genuinely think that’s how he sees himself

And then, once everything has come clean, Jayce can go like “well obviously society has to change to accommodate people in all their differences, look at all the people fighting to make that happen, look at us and our dreams to better everyone’s lives – making everyone the same will just make you alone and miserable” and show him what alternate!Viktor shared in the dimensional field trip

Which brings us to change the second : make it clear that Viktor is not mister magic man who gave Jayce the runes. Designs don’t match, hands don’t match (mister magic man has hand tattoos, alternate!Victor does not, for instance) – which makes Jayce being able to stop Viktor in his world the product of just dumb luck rather than an experiment from alternate!Viktor or something. The same dumb luck that saved his life in the first episode of the season, the same dumb luck that made it so he was born in Piltover rather than Zaun, the same dumb luck that got Sevika the jackpot in her fight with Ambessa. Jayce asks alternate!Viktor why he gave him the rune and a!Viktor says “it wasn’t me. But I did bring you here, because I saw a possibility for change I haven’t seen in any other world. I don’t know the cause – maybe there isn’t one. Maybe this is a wild rune, a ripple born from inconsequential actions long ago. Maybe it’s simply luck. [flash to the acceleration rune and Ekko and Sevika’s jackpot and Jayce surviving the explosion unscathed at the start and maybe a whole other slew of tiny lucky moments] But you’re the only one who can do it, Jayce. Only you.” And then have them be absorbed into the rune to become an arcane queer singularity together

I’m not necessarily opposed to Zaun having a place in the Council as a first step to independence in the epilogue, but it needs to be half of the Council. One single seat means nothing, we’ve seen loads of decisions be taken with a majority vote rather than unanimity, Zaun having only one seat is a spit in the face of everything they’ve been fighting for, and I can’t imagine any Zaunite actually agreeing to that. Anyway I’d like a big celebration of independence with everyone, but a first step is also okay, it’s not like all plot points all need to be resolved neatly so long as we keep the door open

Maybe have Caitlyn say “you’re not dirt” in the same light tone Vi said she’s the dirt under Caitlyn’s fingers, also. Just a small, loving reassurance during that scene

Also Ekko can not end the series on his own what the hell ? It’s fine if he grieves Jinx and Heimerdinger in quiet solitude, but the rest of the Firelights should come in at the end of the scene to comfort him, because he is the one character in this series who is entirely focused on community, and leaving him on a solitary note feels like a betrayal in my opinion

… and with that, I think we’ve reached the end of this rewrite !

I hope you enjoyed this small vision of what could have been, I’m completely winded now and I think my anger has run its course. I’m done writing about this show now. Might rewatch season 1 again soon though, I miss Silco

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane spoilers #yumi writes #mel medarda #sevika #viktor arcane #jayce talis #okay hopefully now i can sleep well again #was thinking too much about lost potential #and it just. cooked my brain #anyway im done now so im gonna work lmao #stay silly yall :3 even if youre annoyed :3 #and dont let yourself stew in anger #its just gonna hurt you #take a deep breath and write it out #and then do something fun :]

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ijosijen · 27 days ago

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Neat Irregularity In Old Sogoic Adjective Agreement

I think this is the first time I've mentioned it on this blog, but Old Sogoic is a Sellan language (i.e, fairly closely related to High Gavellian), though the Old Sogoic period (c. 850–500 B.P.) came a fair time before the Cadan standardization of High Gavellian that I'm documenting (early centuries A.P.) or even the point where "High Gavellian" became a distinct concept outside of Koine (riight before the turn of the millennium).

I digress. The irregularity here is a splinter from Declension VI detailed down below. As a result of a sound-shift vowel insertion to break up an unwanted sequence at the syllable boundary, the 'irregular' class takes the root (this is romanisation, not ipa, though it is phonologically transparent atm) icx- and simply adds an -ir for gender agreement and then -e/-i/-i/-ue for case and number agreement. It's so nicely agglutinative!

but this is the irregular pattern. compare a similar stem in declension six like sios-. In the light gendered agreement pattern, it matches icx- exactly:

icxe, icxet, icxem, icxesse

siose, sioset, siosem, siosesse

buuut ofc the "expected" dark agreement pattern...

siosire, siosiri, siosiri, siosirue

...is completely incorrect! because that final consonant is only a part of the light stem, for some reason! the dark stem deletes it!

siore, siori, siori, siorue

It's all so very nice. The vowel insertion during the sound shifts on the xre /.kxre/ clusters prevented the consonant loss that hit every single other adjective in the class. Maybe if there were more preservation examples than this one (rather rare) cluster then it'd have spread through analogy/morphological leveling or somesuch, but it hasn't. so it's just an irregular pseudo-class that only retains some super common adjectives (as detailed in the pic, icxe/icxre "new" makes that cut). The rest of them have this fun stem consonant deletion thing going on. Which also means that if you hear a Declension VI adjective in its dark agreement form you've got like zero clue as to what the consonant at the end of its stem is. rip rip.

Again, maybe I'll level that out, but realistically what I'm probably going to do is collapse the adjectives into 2-3 declension classes max. Probably going to move them up into 5-6 as the language gets more (yes yay more) fusional. Unfortunately we've got a billion incoming noun cases (lots of adpositions just went postpositional & suffix mode) that I don't really see the adjectives agreeing with, but at the least that's one place where the marked nominative agreement is going to hold on. Rest of the language (family) is doing its level best to purge itself of any remnant ergativity.

Here's a language intro tangent:

Old Sogoic is somewhat fusional, though sound shifts have rendered its inflection system fairly neutered and highly syncretic. It's undergoing the same areal morpho-phonological reduction pressure that the nigh-isolating High Gavellian emerged from. Given the circumstances it managing to hold on to this much (16 verb inflections, up to 4 noun inflections, up to 8 adjective inflections, grammatical gender & number) is insane.

The adjective classes are weird and I like them a fair amount. The first/second declension distinction is barely a formality and only exists because of One insanely productive derivational suffix (the gods' strongest soldier, good work -on).

It also exists because this analysis lets me line up the adjectival inflection patterns with their cognate noun declension patterns. If Declension II didn't exist then I'd probably have to skip the number anyway.

Otherwise the six declensions are sorted into three pattern groups depending on their agreement behavior. I and II are defective when it comes to number agreement, III & IV don't agree for gender, and then finally V & VI have full agreement in all situations.

Going off what I mentioned earlier but wrote later:

As Old Sogoic evolves into Neo-Sogoic (where its speakers escape the black hole of isolation by ironically isolating the community from the rest of the sprachbund) planning on having it get even more fusional, which means that I'm probably going to have V & VI style patterns of full agreement extend to the entire adjective space. Hooray. This'll mainly favor the absolutive forms, but I won't see if I can't force the case-like suffixes to agglutinate to the adjectives too. That'll get a whole bunch of new agreements in real quick.

#old sogoic #gavellian family

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ar-cadez · 1 month ago

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I can't stop listening to the Your a Good Man, Charlie Brown soundtrack and no one wants to talk about Peanuts with me so here's my song ranking

1. The Book Report

A really good portrayal of the characters personalities through showing them doing something really mundane like homework. It's really fun to see the different amounts of effort they put into it. Charlie Brown's verse is pretty relatable to when I have executive dysfunction tbh. I love Schroeder and how he gets completely off topic immediately. Linus getting way too into it and Lucy just absolutely not caring... Also I don't know what grade these kids are in but I thought Linus was younger? Why is he in the same class? Did he skip a grade? That wouldn't particularly surprise me tbh.

2. Snoopy

Relatable af. "I feel every now and then that I wanna bite somebody" me too, boy. Me too. I relate to the wish to just go feral sometimes but your just too domestic and harmless. It feels really short despite being 3 minutes long bc the first verse is so slow. I like the kazoos also. I love Woodstock and this is the only part the birds show up which is sad but ig it's hard bc being expressive with a little cutout is hard.

3. The Doctor Is In

Charlie Brown therapy appointment. It's pretty funny too! I like how Lucy is like "not even your dog loves you lmao" the ending line is pretty good too. I love how the Broadway cast recording actor says "There's hope? :0" he says it so nice...

4. My New Philosophy

Rather cute! I love Schroeder. The dynamic is rather cute with him humouring Sally but also being the straightman in the situation. and I feel like it's not a pairing I see too much.. I could be wrong though. My newspaper never had Peanuts strips and I haven't watched the specials in forever. The melody is really good too! This was the first song I heard bc it came up on Spotify when I was looking at a musical playlist and it's the reason I learned there was an official peanuts musical.

5. Little Known Facts

Idk if Lucy genuinely thinks snow "comes up" or if she's screwing with her little brother bit either way the confidence she has when she says all this absolute insanity is really funny. Charlie Brown trying to correct her and getting talked over and getting so genuinely upset is hilarious. You could perhaps argue that Linus isn't that dumb but also. He's really young.. And believes in really bazaar things himself (like the great pumpkin..)

6. Suppertime

I like Snoopy's monologue at the beginning he's so dramatic. I love the word supper. A lot more fun to say than dinner. Dog sings about food. What else can I say? Silly guy.

6.5 Beethoven Day

I forgot to add this one and I didn't want to change all the numbers. Its just an autistic kid singing about his special interest. I love how supportive everyone is even if most of them don't really care in my opinion. Like Lucy at least, is just doing it bc of her crush.. Also I'm pretty sure this play takes place over one day which means this whole musical takes place on Dec 16th. Fantastic.

7. My Blanket and Me

I really like this one too but Linus's voice makes me mad in the cast recording so. -1000 points. The high school kid from the only good recording I could find online did a better job. It's really cute I just don't like hearing a grown man sing it in a voice mimicking a voice that Linus has never even had. Explode.

8. The Kite

Pretty good! I like the quick pace and how he succeeds at the end, if only for a moment. I love how you can feel the frustration in his voice and the disbelief when the kite doesn't immediately fall.

9. Opening

I totally forgot what the opening sounds like even though I don't ever skip it. All I remember is the beginning dialogue. It's nice that it has the happiness leitmotif. But i only know that because I'm relistening to it now. I don't thinking even agree with most of the stuff they say about him in the song itself. Charlie Brown is a little bit of a dick guys. Not much but he's certainly not great.. Idk if that's the point? Idk. It doesn't even sound like they're talking about him.

10. T.E.A.M.

Eh. Music wise it's good but I don't care about the lyrics bc I hate baseball. I like how the kid from the high school production I watched softened his voice on "for her" the cast recording doesn't have that.

11. Happiness

It's pretty good but it doesn't have any comedy and this entire musical has zero emotional weight so it feels out of place. I also don't like how Charlie Brown stole Heather's pencil. (I'm not calling her "little red-headed girl".) boy, be normal.

12. Schroeder

I think the first line and last line are funny but it's pretty eh. I don't care for slow songs most of the time.

13. Glee Club Rehearsal

Reminds me too much of middle school choir. /hj. I actually dislike it bc it's just like. A folk song with kids talking over it. Least interesting. Didn't even do it in a fun way. Idek what they're arguing about. Smth about pencils.

#not art #peanuts #charlie brown #musical theatre #musicals #song ranking

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epithetical · 1 year ago

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2024 UPDATE (OFFICIAL)

Hey, everyone. Longtime no talk. Despite being weirdly active on this account, I haven't really made any textposts since high school. So I've decided to fix this by giving a gigantic update post about my very busy 2023. If you're new and don't know anything about me, or knew me as a teen and are wondering what I'm up to now: buckle up.

TL;DR:

Dropped out of art school. Released an award-nominated(???) dating sim, ValiDate. Killed the Golden Girls Take Manhattan DX. Conquered Jaw Explosion Disease. Hung out with some friends. (Also, a lot of NDA shit that I can’t talk about.)

ART-SCHOOL DROPOUT

From 2021 to 2022, I was attending a prestigious and overly-expensive art school for their (brand new!) game design program. When I first graduated from high school, this college was my dream choice, and coming off the success of my early game dev career, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to polish my skills while I kept working on the side. My first commercial game was still in development, but we were feeling comfortable, and I felt like getting greedy.

Pride before the fall. Full Icarus mode. You know how it goes.

The school itself was…alright. Satellite campus, mid-pandemic, hybrid learning. Close enough to commute comfortably, classes just long enough for masks to not give me a headache, and the handful of remote courses helped keep my medical problems at bay. Problems that the school was a little unequipped to help with, though the disability office did their best. I had to drop a class because my body, at the time, couldn’t handle eight hours of classes without some Crazy Side Effects.

(Keep in mind that every class was, minimum, four hours. And I had to take at least five a semester. Each class also saw me make an entire game from scratch. My body was already at its limit.)

If you knew me in high school, you’re probably waiting for the shoe to drop: I was, famously, the worst at academics. Never did homework, rarely finished projects, slept through first period at least once a week. Surprise, though: I was fucking great at this. My GPA doubled. Turns out that going to school for a discipline you already have a career in, and are kinda obsessed with, kinda does wonders for you. Unfortunately, I picked the worst time to care about school, since my commercial game’s release was the same exact night that my five school games were due.

TL;DR, I didn’t sleep for a week, almost fucked both up, and got burnout so bad that I couldn’t do anything for a calendar year. So I dropped out! Now, about a year of job hunting later (the game’s industry is imploding right now, and the only studios that considered me were… questionable, to say the least), the expensive art school wants me back. So badly. Turns out the whole school is so broke and understaffed right now that they’re basically chomping at the bit for that tuition money. Got a week to decide. Jury’s still out.

VALIDATE POST-MORTEM

So, if you couldn’t tell from the above section, we released a game in 2022! I was supposed to write a post-mortem for it, but… burnout from the above, combined with general “post-release depression,” and I didn’t feel like touching it.

Part of me still doesn’t!

Yet I kinda think the feeling of me not wanting to talk about ValiDate is still worth discussing, so here we go:

For those of you that aren’t aware, I was a head dev on ValiDate, a dating sim that released in 2022. Volume 1 (of 3) did, anyway.

Did a lot of music, did a lot of writing, created some characters people really care about, created some characters people really want to fuck, made a couple Tweets that my boss hated, got accused of being reverse racist a few times. It was truly one of the most exciting and rewarding experiences of my life. And, yes, we’re still working on Vol. 2 behind the scenes.

That’s actually the reason why it’s kinda hard to talk about Vol. 1!

It was my first commercial game, my first publicly released game, and I think there’s always gonna be a… natural embarrassment toward your first “real” project. Combine that with my natural “if you stare at me for too long, I will kill myself” tendencies, and the game’s release was a special type of torture. It’s one thing to watch people play through a game that you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into, knowing full well that they might hate it (or just misunderstand it), but shit gets so much worse when you know that you could have done better.

It’s a very special kind of psychological torture to have creative decisions you feel were mistakes, things you half-assed because of burnout or deadlines, or things you did wrong because you just didn’t know any better! The embarrassment was overwhelming, so I just… dipped for a while. Didn’t watch gameplay or read reviews, didn’t do much of anything.

Took me a while to realize that me being embarrassed about the project isn’t because ValiDate was bad or anything. I was embarrassed because it was an incredible learning opportunity for me. The amount that I picked up on game design, community management, leadership, marketing, pitching, porting, etc. in two years is more than any school could teach you in four. Volume 1 was a game made by amateurs, still wet behind the ears, trying to build something from grassroots.

But Volume 2 is a game-ass game.

And having done all the work we have on Vol. 2 (which, while I can’t talk about it publicly, is a lot!), looking back at our first release feels like… revisiting your awkward middle school photos. Sometimes it’s hard to not feel contempt for who you were when your biggest struggle was becoming, but learning to choke down that shame? It taught me to feel grateful for the you of yesterday, who clawed their way through uncertainty so that you, today, can stand on sturdier ground. Growing up is embarrassing, and it turns out you keep doing it well into your twenties! Sucks.

For the past few days, Dani and I have been watching a Twitch streamer play through Volume 1. We’ve been so deep in planning for the future that we figured, hey, may as well revisit the past. Detached from all that embarrassment of becoming, I gotta admit: we made a fun little dating sim. People like it. Hell, I like it. Sure, I know all of its flaws and shortcuts, and I have my fair share of critiques… but fact of the matter is, if I have a problem with something, I can just fix it.

Admittedly, In the past, that attitude of mine has actually been more of a problem than a solution. “I can fix this myself!” is all fine and good when you’re a solo dev trying to throw something together, but it turns out taking on excess responsibility in a collaborative setting is a way to make shit suck for you and your team. During the Kickstarter demo era, I was literally on every team besides art. Writing, programming, music, I got my fingers in all those pies. It was fun to me, and more importantly, it was sustainable.

Until it wasn’t.

Volume 1 coinciding with my tenure at [art school], using a (finicky and, frankly, shitty) new game engine, being much larger in scope, introducing minigames (which, surprise, I was team lead on)... I pretty much killed myself trying to get it all done. Honestly, I blame half of our day-one bugfixes on me specifically. Every single one of them was an oversight made because I was pulling the classic “I’m unmedicated so crunching is the only way I can feel alive” type shit.

Except for the OST. That one sucked because art school sucks all the joy out of creating.

Happy to say that our workflow for Volume 2 has been much more sustainable for me, even if I’ve officially broken my “no art” rule for it. Yeah, turns out I’m finally making use of that animation major. Sucks.

Self reflection over. Except for one last note:

If you’ve followed ValiDate, played our demo, donated to the Kickstarter, replied to our Tweets, played our second demo, bought our game, or just talked about us to a friend… I am so, so grateful. Beyond what words could possibly describe. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember become a game developer, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you guys. Vd8 wasn’t what I expected the cornerstone of my career to be, but honestly? I couldn’t have asked for a better one. We have Vriska in our game. How many people can possibly say that?

And to those of you still waiting for Volume 2:

You haven’t seen anything yet.

GAYMING AWARDS

Speaking of ValiDate… Did you hear we were nominated for some Gayming Awards last year? We were!

Three other head Vd8 devs (Dani: Production, Alexis: Art, Cam: Code) flew out to beautiful New York City for the award show last March, which was actually our first time actually meeting up IRL. Really funny how I’ve known Dani since I was fifteen, but here we were, a decade later, finally meeting face to face. She’s so much taller in person. I’m still taller, but barely.

Meeting up with internet friends is one thing (and more on that later!), but meeting up with internet coworkers? It’s interesting. This was the first moment that ValiDate felt “real,” seeing as it was suddenly important enough to give us comp’d flights and a hotel room, but more than that: the people I’ve been working with for years exist? We’re all hanging out together? We’re wandering through Manhattan all day? We’re eating the most disgusting food at Junior’s in Times Square? We’re trying to figure out what this mystery liquid is? How much did this food cost again? (Seriously, my onion rings were 90% dough and 10% onion.)

While I won’t bore you with the minutiae—I think my friends would prefer the privacy anyway—the entire trip to NYC was fun, exhausting, and a dream-come-true.

Except for that goddamn award show. Jesus CHRIST, what a trainwreck.

No, I’m not saying that just because we lost. We did lose, though. (Personally, I was fine with it, but I also had to travel the least distance to get there. So…) I’m saying that because the entire Gayming Awards industrial complex was, uh, kinda busted this year?

So imagine, you’re us: bunch of twenty-somethings on your Sex and the City shit. Big award show tonight, formal attire. We’re talking high heels, long dresses, full suits, the whole nine yards. Now what do you do in Manhattan? Walk. Sure, we weren’t walking in formal attire the entire time, but it was still a good five blocks to the award center where—wait, what do you mean they relocated the ceremony? The hall they rented is closed for mysterious reasons? Where the hell are we doing the award show?

If you answered “the drag bar where the afterparty was supposed to take place,” congrats, here’s $20. Way further away from our hotel, which meant more walking, and also a way smaller venue with a lot less… formality, let’s say. But we’re young gay people, we don’t care about formalities, who gives a shit! As long as it can seat all of us, then—oh there’s no seating. Ohhhh. Oh! Okay.

I’ll admit, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. There were a handful of couches, VIPs only. Realizing quickly that, oh shit, we’re VIPs, we managed to snag some front-seat couches before any of the pesky old people could. (We’re young! We deserve to sit! You’ve had your entire lives to sit, established games industry people! Let the new generation have a turn!) Unfortunately, when I got up to cash in my free-drink voucher, my seat was stolen by some white lady.

So I sat on the floor.

March 2023. You, sitting at home, have decided to tune into the Gayming Awards “live” on Twitch, curious to see what Britain’s premiere gayming magazine had to say about, uh, esports.

This is important to you.

Fortunately, this year you’re watching a decently shot and scripted award show filmed in a (noticeably claustrophobic) little bar, complete with charming presenters (many of whom are local drag queens) and a myriad of corporate sponsors. You can hardly tell that the entire show was uprooted and moved hours prior!

Yet, for some reason, whenever the cameras cut to the audience… There’s some large man, right in front of the crowd, slumped down on the floor as if he’s bleeding out. With every award given, his clapping grows weaker. The more the camera cuts to him, the more life drains from his body, as if his existence itself is anathema to “gayming.”

Imagine, for a moment, that this man is nominated for an award.

Imagine that he, after a lifetime of potassium deficiency, has been teetering on the edge of a Charlie Horse Reckoning for hours.

Imagine that the microsecond that his game’s name is called as a nominee, the Reckoning begins.

Now imagine a world where he wins that award.

A world where he is forced to stand—from his corpse’s rightful place on the ground!—in front of his peers and superiors, pretending as if he’s not afflicted with a life-ending muscle cramp.

So, yeah. I was pretty fine with losing.

Later, we ditched the “afterparty” to drink at Applebees. (Turns out “green tea shots” don’t have any green tea in ‘em?)

EULOGY FOR THE GOLDEN GIRLS TAKE MANHATTAN DX

Big announcement! I was a team lead on The Golden Girls Take Manhattan DX, a certified Tumblr Gold™ fan-project (by the immortal Grawly) about the eponymous Gold Girls in a Persona-esque parody game!

Slightly bigger announcement! The game got cancelled. Sorry.

Feels a little weird talking about this, since the year-ish I spent working on the game passed in the blink of an eye, and I’m not going to lie and say that I was an instrumental piece of the team or whatever. I was lucky enough to lead a very talented team, and to play with some very fun devtools, but the game was definitely more important to me than I was to it. (Grawly, if by some off-chance you’re reading this, please click off now. You can peek back in at the Jaw Explosion Disease subheader. I promise I’m very nice and respectful.)

I was in high school when I was first made aware of TGGTMDX. My friend group was very into Persona (in the pre-P5 days), and one of our favorite video subgenres was “videogame UI on top of sitcom scenes.” It didn’t take us long to stumble onto early-build footage of TGGTMDX on Tumblr, and what spawned was a years-long fascination. I’d even consider it one of my many… game dev awakenings? The idea that the only thing stopping me from making “American Persona”—one of my many white whales—was commitment to the bit. Just one of the many things that fueled my teenaged suicidal overconfidence.

Speaking of suicidal overconfidence, about a decade later, I was invited to work on the game! Coming fresh off ValiDate, I was desperate for a chance to make a real portfolio piece (visual novels, while popular, will never get you a job), and this sort of opportunity only presents itself once in a lifetime. Fulfilling a teenage dream while furthering your career? What could possibly go wrong!

That makes it seem like there was some explosive drama behind the scenes that ruined everything. Sorry to say that most game cancellations aren’t that exciting, and that this game’s death was by a thousand microscopic cuts. Most of which are not my place to talk about: this game wasn’t my baby, and cancelling it wasn’t my choice to make! Many people worked on this for much, much longer than I even knew how to code, and they deserve to have their feelings prioritized. Whenever that post mortem gets published, I’ll be the first to reblog it, trust me.

Instead, I’d prefer to talk a little about this as being my first real “loss” as a game dev. Certainly not my first project to go under, and I’ve had my fair share of shelved prototypes, but something about this cancellation was… different. Working on your dream project is all fun and games until you feel partially responsible for it dying, y’know? It felt Sisyphean at a point, like trying to dig a hole in the sand with a pitchfork. I would work at the game, and work at the game, but nothing I did felt like it made a dent.

Part of me knew I wasn’t giving it my all, between the school-based burnout (above), jaw explosion disease (below), and ValiDate (omnipresent), it’s not like I could’ve afforded to put more of myself into it. Besides, I was literally a team lead, half my job was telling other people what to do. But the spectre of “you’re not doing enough” was hard to shake. Even when all these other responsibilities ebbed and I could afford to give this game my all, the difference felt minimal.

We spend a lot of time pitying Sisyphus for having to push that boulder uphill over and over, but none of us ask ourselves “could we even move that big fucking rock in the first place?” Apparently, I couldn’t.

I wasn’t the only one that felt that way, it turned out. In fact, pretty much all the friends I made on the project felt the same. If there’s any “real” reason why the project got cancelled, it’s that. No big falling out, Disney didn’t give us a cease and desist, no secret rebrand going on in the background. Just a bunch of lads getting sick of pushing a boulder. Hell, Grawly’s been doing it for a decade. Let him rest.

Not too much rest, though: we’re already working on a different game together (Date Knight: check it out if you haven’t!), and some of us ex-Golden Girls devs have some ideas for what else we can cook up.

For money, this time.

JAW EXPLOSION DISEASE

Probably the biggest “development” of 2023 was my sudden horrible nerve pain in July, which started as a sinus infection on the left side of my face, and soon became a horrific jaw pain. Long after my sinus infection healed, the jaw pain remained, which is a pretty bad hand to draw when a considerable portion of your day is spent “talking,” or “eating.” So, for the back half of 2023, I didn’t do much of either.

Instead, I had to take a considerable amount of ibuprofen, visit one doctor, three dentists, two hospitals, and four oral surgeons to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. The dentists discovered an exposed nerve, caused by wisdom tooth removal complications (sick!), the oral surgeons went “okay, we can fix that,” got me all numbed up. But it turns out that my left jaw is immune to local anesthesia! Thinking this was an infection, they kept putting me on antibiotics over and over in the hopes that it’d suddenly work. Took a note from my childhood dentist explaining that, “no, he’s always been like this” to find a surgeon willing to put me all the way under. (And then, the first time they tried, I woke up in the middle anyway! I got a full refund on the copay, at least.)

Ultimately, I found a very nice surgeon in December that treated me same-day, and did it perfectly, but the damage to my liver from all that ibuprofen was… bad. But it turns out that livers just… regenerate naturally? So, give it a few months, I’ll be at 100%. Hopefully.

OOMFCON

Hilariously, six months after we met up for the Gayming Awards, Dani and Alexis found their way back to NYC for a little combination meet-up/vacation we affectionately titled “Oomfcon 2023.” This time, with bonus friends! Our entire friend server, whose name I’ve been advised not to post publicly, had rented an AirBnB for anyone willing to drop everything and go to Brooklyn.

It took about a year of planning (mostly by Alexis) to get us all out there, but Jesus Christ, it actually worked.

Admittedly I’m a bit hesitant to talk at length about “taking a vacation”—even though I’m already… from here?—but it really was the highlight of my year. First for actually happening, when most friend groups I’ve had would have written the idea off as a pipedream, but mostly for being a really good time. A lot of walking, a lot of talking, a lot of drinking, a lot of dining. (This was during Jaw Explosion Disease, so you can imagine how my body took most of that.)

To Dani, Alexis, Miles, Haven, Grim, Xtine, and Ty: thanks for coming up here! The city is a lot more boring without you guys in it. I promise to have less health issues when we do this again!

And to everyone else outside the groupchat that I met and bored with my job hunt stories: Nice meeting you guys! Sorry that fate decided every single one of you is forced to keep in touch with me. (And I didn’t even get the shitty corporate job!)

#save.#this is a lot longer than i wanted it to be; but i had a lot to say.#turns out i actually have a lot of tumblr followers. so. time to actually engage with them.

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