#at least the first class you have to take by itself and its only 2 credit hrs so i dont expect that first class to cost too much

[pinolitas]

i have finally made a good decision. i am going to get a gis certificate but probably not until next fall cause i wanna do another semester of polish and ive seen the schedule of classes and it interferes with my polish class unfortunately. grad school for linguistics will be shelved for another year. i also am not confident i would get in with my gpa and the thought of having to write a thesis scares me.

[captain-huggy-bear]

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.

[dear-ao3]

by popular request: how to write an email

a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.

credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)

Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go

there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.

also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)

Step 2: remember to be Polite

a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email

Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.

a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.

Step 4: cite your reciepts.

wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email

Step 5: use the appropriate lingo

you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:

As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved

See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.

Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.

Step 6: give a polite sign off.

something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.

Step 7: follow up and follow up often.

polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.

and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)

so an email. should be formatted something like this:

Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)

I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)

(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)

(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)

Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)

Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,

email signature

go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.

[gatorbites-imagines]

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.

[hollowdeath]

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.

[mirixmoya]

my initial first-read thoughts for SOTR PART II: THE RASCAL there will be MAJOR SPOILERS under the cut but pls enjoy :)

chapter 10;

fake louella is so interesting, i'm excited to see where this plot point goes

"and someone's definitely rapping at my chamber door." we are 2 for 2 on The Raven references that's wild

"what breaks a machine?" "time." and the machine in question is the Capitol itself suzanne u kinda ate w that.

chapter 11;

whatever u do don't think about haymitch and burdock sneaking into victors' village to admire the luxury of the houses only for haymitch (and burdock's daughter) to spend great portions of their lives trapped in those houses drowning in their luxury

beetee entrusting this complicated ass plan to a 16 year old is crazy work bro

maysilee trying not to giggle at haymitch's singing... her and effie would be best friends i fear

haymitch picking up the word aphorism from snow immediately and using it himself ohhhh my sweet clever boy :(

chapter 12;

ceasar flickerman mention thank u jesus

guys... guys i'm not even joking i read the words "big, big, big day" and i burst into tears #normal

chapter 13;

ITS REAL ITS REALLY HER HOLY FUC K

OLDER SISTER EFFIE CANON

ngl i did not think we would get an effie cameo. not even a little bit. i didn't even let myself hope for it in any small way. life is so fucking good rn

okay so effie is obviously a Little Older than we've all be writing her huh

"well, she's swallowed the capitol propaganda hook and took the line and sinker with it, but at least she's brought us some decent footwear." TEARS. TEARS IN MY EYES.

i cannot believe i have lived to see the day where we actually get canon haymitch pov perceiving effie this is crazy

The Trinkets being slightly socially disgraced... interesting.

"For a moment, they're just two girls on a mission to beautiful the world." WHAT DID I SAY. I KNEW THEY WOULD BE BESTIES.

HAYFFIE CRUMBS HAYFFIE CRUMBS

not him jumping to pick up her shit for her... in a world of boys he's a gentlemen

EFFIE THINKS HE'S BEAUTIFUL :((((

"the capitol citizens lose it and so do i, until i remember the joke's not just on panache. it's on all of us stupid, clawed district piglets. animals for their entertainment." haymitch gaining class consciousness in real time

"and you, darling?" okayyy abernathy charm

effie just hanging around in the background in making me inexplicably happy. i am smiling and giggling

not her tryna shoot her shot by putting the flower on his label okayyy miss Effie Subtlety Trinket

chapter 14;

"sometimes she cries because things are so beautiful and we keep messing them up. because the world doesn't have to be so terrifying. that's on people, not the world." felt that one in my chest my god...

"i love you like all-fire. that's for always." this food is so fucking good suzanne

effie and plutarch going this far back is... interesting. then why didn't u save her ass from prison during the 75th SIR?

"i hate needles" PLASTIC SURGERY PHOBIC EFFIE CANON!!!!

another The Raven reference... what is going on

chapter 15;

mags mother of millions

MORE HAYFFIE CRUMBS SUZANNE I OWE U MY LIFE

haymitch asking her to make sure the token gets back to lenore dove... effie laying a hand on his chest and promising to do her best... the interconnected web that is haydove / hayffie has never been more alive

effie being the last person he sees before going into the arena is kinda insanely romantic??? "locking my eyes on hers until things go black" ??? hello??

chapter 16;

"the games must end. here. now." and then he's gonna spend so many years watching them happen over and over and over again suzanne how dare u

"i don't want one of my last acts to be taking out an ally, especially a dove-coloured one." he loves lenore dove sm im crying fr

"fire is catching, she'd say" ... suzanne is doing comedy now

chapter 17;

"i can't keep one of them safe. why do they flock to me?" just thought about him having this mindset for the next 40 years and cried :(((

chapter 18;

"in a way, it's a comfort that a bunch of people i know have gone before me." my baby :( spoken too soon girl :(

haymitch trying to blow this shit up katniss&haymitch fatherdaughterism has never been more alive and well

ampert :( haymitch's closeness with a lot of the victors makes so much more sense now. like it's not JUST that they hang out during the in-between years but their lives are tied so closely together from the moment haymitch enters the games.

is the goose and the common song silly? yes. is it important to remember that the enclosure of common land is historically and inextricably linked to (1) the rise of private property, (2) increasingly powerful centralized states, (3) the economic dependence of the labouring poor on their lords of the land. suzanne u big history nerd

he's so hopeful :( he believes so hard :( it's sad to know that that's all slowly washed out of him :(

more slightly intelligent thoughts! even more rambly nothing thoughts! either way i hope u enjoyed :)

[lilahlovesjjk]

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Chapter 2

synopsis: You and Satoru Gojo used to be inseparable—the kind of childhood best friends that promised to get married, rule the world, and never leave each other’s side.

Then life happened.

Now, years later, you’re both enrolled in the same elite psychology graduate program—only this time, you’re rivals. Gojo’s loud, flirty, obnoxiously charming, and infuriatingly good at everything. You're focused, sharp, constantly proving yourself—and desperate not to let the past (or him) throw you off course.

warnings: angst, slowburn (kinda), swearing, eventual nsfw, (i'll add to the list if I think of any more as the story progresses)

The classroom smells faintly of floor polish and anxiety.

It’s too early for the heating system to have kicked in properly, so a draft snakes in from under the windows, biting at your ankles and raising goosebumps along your arms. The room itself is clean but impersonal, with rows of sterile gray tables and plastic-backed chairs bolted to the floor in that “we value discomfort” kind of way. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, flickering just enough to be noticeable, and the projector screen at the front flashes through the rotating screensaver of a university-issued desktop—blue, black, blue, black.

You’re early today.

You claim your spot in the second row, middle seat, as you did yesterday. Close enough to see the board, far enough not to be a target for Dr. Yuki’s laser-focused questions. It's a sweet spot—the psychological equivalent of a security blanket.

There are maybe twenty-five students enrolled in this seminar. Psychology of Development and Attachment—a first-year graduate course notorious for being both rigorous and emotionally taxing. Most of your classmates drift in slowly, coffee cups clutched like lifelines, still shaking off the remnants of sleep or the residue of all-night reading marathons. You clock a few familiar faces: the girl with bubblegum-pink headphones and a massive laptop, the guy with the vintage band tees who never takes notes, and the duo in the back row who already whisper like they’re conspiring against the entire department.

You crack open your laptop, its screen casting a soft glow over your lined notebook and highlighter collection—color-coded, of course. The soft click of keys fills the space as you pull up your readings, double-check your notes, and reread your outline from the night before. You like being prepared. It’s your thing.

Still, your fingers twitch at the edges of the desk.

Your mind hums with leftover thoughts from yesterday’s lecture—your debate with Gojo still playing in a loop you didn’t ask for. You shake it off. Focus.

The second day of class is the real first day, anyway. Yesterday was syllabus skimming and awkward icebreakers. Today is where the work starts. You're ready for that.

At least, you thought you were.

The door swings open at exactly 10:04 a.m., and the temperature in the room seems to shift.

“Morning, my adoring fans,” comes the sing-song voice, smooth and self-assured.

You don’t even have to look. You already know.

Gojo Satoru strolls in like he owns the building, not just the classroom. Aviator sunglasses. Hair that looks styled by divine intervention—or a leaf blower. A single dangling earring glints against his pale neck. He’s holding two coffees from the café downstairs, one of them obnoxiously labeled with a heart drawn in marker.

You look down at your notes and pretend to read.

“Wow,” he says, sliding into the empty seat beside you—the only one left open, of course. “You really do keep choosing the same seat. Is it like a nesting thing? You imprint on desks?”

You don’t respond. Maybe if you pretend he doesn’t exist, he’ll disappear.

“Good morning to you too,” he adds, placing one of the coffee cups in front of you with a little flourish. “Black, two sugars. Still your thing?”

Your eyes flick up despite yourself.

“…How do you even know that?”

Gojo shrugs, pleased with himself. “Some things never change.”

You arch a brow. “And some things really should.”

He laughs, the sound bright and infuriating. “You wound me, really.”

The room fills a little more with students arriving late, chairs scraping against the floor and bags thudding against desk legs. Dr. Yuki still hasn’t arrived yet, which only gives Gojo more time to lean into your space, legs stretching out too far and arms braced too casually behind his head.

“You're early,” you mutter, lifting the coffee despite your instincts.

“I had to come early,” he says dramatically, “to emotionally prepare myself for being in your presence.”

You sip. It’s perfect. Of course it is.

You scowl into the cup. “Stop trying to bribe me.”

“Too late. I’m winning you over. You just don’t know it yet.”

He turns fully toward you, propping his chin in one hand as he studies you. “So, how was the rest of your day after our little intellectual showdown yesterday? Get mobbed by classmates asking for your autograph? Fan letters? Marriage proposals?”

“I don’t have to answer you.”

“Oh, but you want to.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting acknowledging his existence. “Why are you even here this early? You hate mornings.”

“I don’t hate mornings. I hate mornings without you.”

You nearly choke on your coffee.

“Jesus—stop saying things like that.”

He grins. “What? I’m being sweet.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Before you can threaten to throw the coffee in his face, Dr. Yuki walks in, her stack of neatly organized papers in one hand and her tablet in the other. Conversation dips instantly into a hush as she sets everything down at the front.

Gojo leans in once more, just as she opens her laptop.

“You know,” he whispers, voice low enough that only you hear, “I missed this. You. Getting all worked up. It’s almost nostalgic.”

You glance at him.

But his gaze is on the front of the classroom, expression unreadable now—calm, casual, but distant in a way you recognize too well.

Your heart stutters, then steadies.

You turn back to your notes.

Let him play his little games. You’re here to work.

Dr. Yuki begins class the way she always does—by opening the floor to discussion.

“I want to start today by revisiting one of the core principles we touched on yesterday,” she says, walking to the whiteboard and uncapping a black marker. “Developmental psychology isn’t just about childhood—it’s about the impact of those early stages on the lifespan. So, let’s focus today on attachment theory.”

You straighten a little in your seat.

This was your jam.

“Can anyone tell me the main types of attachment outlined by Ainsworth?”

A few hands go up. Gojo, of course, is not one of them. He’s reclined like this is a brunch reservation and not a graduate seminar.

Dr. Yuki points to a girl near the windows, who lists off: “Secure, avoidant, ambivalent… and disorganized.”

“Correct,” Dr. Yuki nods, writing them out on the board. “And what kind of caregiving styles are associated with each?”

This time, your hand goes up.

“Secure attachment tends to come from consistent and responsive caregiving,” you say. “Avoidant is usually associated with emotionally distant caregivers. Ambivalent attachment is from inconsistent caregiving—like, when the child doesn’t know what to expect. And disorganized attachment often correlates with trauma, abuse, or extreme neglect.”

“Excellent,” Dr. Yuki says. “Now, let’s connect this to adult behavior. What kinds of patterns might we see in securely versus insecurely attached adults?”

Gojo raises his hand—slowly, dramatically—like it physically pains him to contribute.

“Securely attached adults usually have fewer trust issues, communicate well, don’t implode if their partner takes twenty minutes to reply to a text,” he says. “Whereas the rest of us,” he waves vaguely around the room, “are either emotionally avoidant, painfully anxious, or both.”

A few people chuckle. Dr. Yuki doesn’t.

“And do we think these patterns are fixed?” she asks, eyes scanning the room.

You shake your head. “No. They can change—therapy, healthy relationships, self-awareness… people can unlearn old patterns.”

“Right,” she says. “Attachment styles aren’t destinies. They’re roadmaps. And if we understand where someone started, we can better understand how they navigate relationships and life choices.”

She pauses, then gestures toward the projector.

“And that brings us to your semester project.”

You feel a low hum of tension run through the room.

“You’ll each be paired with a classmate to develop a case study that analyzes the developmental arc of a fictional subject—from early childhood experiences to adult psychological patterns. I’ll be looking for theoretical integration, relevant research, and creative application.”

Groans echo softly around the room.

“You’ll be assigned your partners. Randomly,” Dr. Yuki adds, like she knows everyone’s about to start bartering.

Gojo leans over. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If you’re thinking you’re getting anyone but that guy in the back who keeps humming to himself, then no.”

Gojo grins. “Aren’t you fun before noon.”

You hush him as Dr. Yuki pulls up the list.

“...Gojo Satoru and,” she pauses just a second too long, “You.”

Your stomach drops.

You actually gasp—like a cartoon princess betrayed by her woodland creatures. Around you, the room buzzes with suppressed laughter and whispered commiseration.

You slowly turn your head toward him.

Gojo looks delighted.

“This,” he says, tapping your desk with mock gravity, “is fate.”

“This,” you hiss, “is my villain origin story.”

Dr. Yuki continues reading off names while you debate whether it’s legally permissible to launch a mechanical pencil into Gojo’s stupidly symmetrical face.

When the list ends, she claps her hands together.

“You’ll have the semester to build your case study, incorporating class material as it’s introduced. Use your time wisely. First drafts are due by midterms, presentations in November.”

The minute she shifts into lecture mode, Gojo turns to you fully, practically vibrating with smugness.

“So, partner,” he says, and oh god, he draws out the word like it means something filthy, “ground rules?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Rule one: you show up. On time.”

“I always show up. Eventually.”

“On time, Gojo.”

“Fine, but then I get a rule. Rule two: all meetings must be caffeinated. Preferably with scones.”

You type it into a shared doc, already plotting your revenge. “Rule three: no flirting during brainstorming.”

His brows shoot up. “You flatter me. You think I flirt?”

“You flirt like it’s a personality trait.”

He grins. “It is a personality trait. And it works on you.”

You type Rule Four: Delusional behavior will not be tolerated.

Gojo reads it over your shoulder and makes an offended noise. “You’re so mean to me.”

You look at him flatly. “You're not the victim here.”

“Yet.”

He taps the table once, then leans back. “So how are we splitting the workload? Because I’m very good at coming up with names, titles, and being handsome while you do the actual research.”

“Rule Five,” you mutter. “Equal contribution or I smother you in your sleep.”

“Sexy.”

You slam your laptop shut.

Dr. Yuki finishes her lecture around ten minutes later and assigns some optional reading before dismissing the class. Students start filtering out. You stand and gather your things, acutely aware of Gojo still hovering nearby like a very smug cloud.

He’s unusually quiet, though.

You glance over. His eyes are on you—not teasing, not mocking. Just watching.

“What?”

He blinks, then offers a crooked smile. “Nothing. Just… you’ve changed.”

You pause.

You’re not sure what to do with that. The weight of it. The flicker of something old behind his eyes.

“I grew up,” you say, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Guess we both did.”

The moment stretches awkward and thin.

And then, because he’s incapable of not being him, Gojo ruins it.

“But you still get that same wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating. Very cute.”

You push past him. “I’m going to my next class. Don’t follow me.”

He salutes. “No promises, partner.”

You slide into your seat in criminology with seconds to spare, breath still catching from the uphill trek across campus. The classroom is smaller than your psych lecture—maybe twenty students total, arranged in a semi-circle with wide, cushioned chairs that squeak every time someone shifts. You love it here already. It feels like the kind of room where real conversations happen.

Shoko’s already lounging beside you, wearing a faded hoodie that reads “Trust Me, I’m Almost a Doctor” and sipping from an aggressively large thermos of tea. She raises a brow as you drop into the chair beside her with a dramatic sigh.

“You okay?” she asks, blinking at you over the rim of her drink.

“Fine,” you say quickly, digging out your notebook. “Just… psych was a lot this morning.”

“You’re always saying that. Was it more Freud or more breakdown?”

You pause. “Gojo.”

“Who?”

You glance at her, surprised. “Tall. White hair. Looks like he was genetically engineered to model sunglasses. The guy I was trauma dumping about last night”

Shoko frowns, thoughtful. “Oh, right. You know I think he sits near Geto in seminar sometimes?”

“Yeah, they’re roommates,” you say, a little sour. “Gojo’s basically made it his life mission to turn every conversation into a sparring match.”

Shoko snorts. “Sounds exhausting.”

“Infuriating, actually.”

Before she can ask more, Suguru Geto strolls in like he’s not even two minutes late. Calm, composed, mildly amused as always. He drops into the seat on Shoko’s other side and gives you both a polite nod.

“Morning.”

“Hey,” Shoko replies easily.

“Hi,” you say, a little stiffer.

Geto gives you a small look—reading you, as always. “Rough start?”

“Just sparring with your roommate.”

“Ah,” he says, smiling faintly. “He does have a talent for bringing chaos into a room.”

“Does he come with an off-switch or…?”

Geto chuckles softly. “Not that I’ve discovered.”

Before any of you can continue, Professor Ibaragi strides into the room, her usual commanding presence immediately quieting the class. She’s tall, in her late forties maybe, with sleek silver hair pinned back and sharp eyes that miss nothing.

“Let’s begin,” she says, setting a thick folder on the front desk. “Today we’re looking at the contrasts between retributive and restorative justice. Page 104 in your readers.”

The rustle of pages follows.

You flip yours open, your pen already poised.

Professor Ibaragi continues, her tone firm and even. “Retributive justice is what most of the western world operates on. Punishment for a crime—often prison. But what if we shifted the focus from punishment to healing? Restorative justice aims to mend the harm caused by crime, rather than simply punish the offender.”

A few hands go up. The class starts to come alive—soft murmurs turning into more confident voices.

One student mentions a case study from New Zealand.

Another references the Rwandan Gacaca courts.

Geto chimes in with a thoughtful observation: “It’s hard to implement restorative practices in a society still emotionally invested in the idea of punishment equaling justice. There’s a psychological satisfaction in seeing someone 'pay' for wrongdoing.”

You nod in agreement, then raise your hand. “But studies have shown that restorative approaches can reduce recidivism more effectively than prison in some populations. Especially for juvenile offenders or non-violent crimes. The emotional impact of accountability is different when you have to face the person you hurt.”

Professor Ibaragi gives a small nod. “Excellent point. It forces reflection, which isn’t always a priority in traditional systems.”

Shoko, to your surprise, pipes up with a casual, “Plus, it doesn’t hurt to spend less on overcrowded prisons and more on mental health programs. Just saying.”

That earns a few approving hums around the room.

After about thirty more minutes of discussion, Professor Ibaragi closes the book with a decisive snap. “You’ll be working on a presentation later this term, applying one of these theories to a real-world case. We’ll talk about partner assignments next class.”

Your stomach sinks. Partners. Again.

As students begin to gather their things, Shoko leans in. “So, I was thinking we do something after classes tonight. Hot pot night or something?”

“I’m in,” you say instantly. “I need something to cancel out Gojo’s existence.”

“You really don’t like this guy, huh?” she asks, amused.

“He wasn’t always like this,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Shoko tilts her head, waiting.

You shake it off. “Never mind.”

Geto stands, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “He’s not that bad, you know.”

You give him a look. “You would say that. You live with him.”

“I also know he talks about you more than he talks about his skincare routine. And that’s saying something.”

Your jaw drops slightly. “Excuse me?”

Geto just smiles. “See you both tonight.”

And with that, he’s gone—leaving you to process whatever the hell that meant while Shoko whistles low under her breath.

“Alright,” she says, amused. “I’m officially intrigued.”

You’re halfway through applying lip gloss when Shoko pops into your doorway wearing a full-on Pikachu onesie, a green tea face mask smeared across her cheeks.

“Should I wear this tonight?” she asks, holding up a red crop top and leather mini skirt with the deadpan seriousness of a war general.

You glance at her outfit-in-hand, then back at the yellow fuzz monstrosity she’s currently in. “That’s… better than what you’re wearing now.”

She grins, pleased, and flops backward onto your bed like she owns it. “I’m not even gonna lie—tonight better be fun. I’ve had ‘student loans and caffeine addiction’ energy all week.”

“You are a med student,” you say as you turn back to your mirror. “That kind of comes with the territory.”

Shoko groans dramatically. “I didn’t come here to be roasted while my pores are open.”

You snort, making a final swipe of your gloss and giving yourself a critical once-over in the mirror. Okay. Not bad.

Not bad at all.

Black heeled boots, jeans that fit just right, and a strappy little top that shows just enough skin to look effortless without trying too hard. Hair curled, makeup sharp. You look like someone who has her life together—even if internally, you’re bracing for the potential chaos that always seems to follow you around lately.

“Damn,” Shoko whistles from your bed. “You’re giving main character energy tonight.”

You turn, striking a mock pose. “As I should.”

She finally peels off the onesie and grabs her real outfit, hopping into her room to change while you touch up your highlighter. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Geto: on our way. ETA 10 🖤

You smile slightly. Of course Geto texts like that.

There’s something soothing about Geto. He’s calm, thoughtful, never oversteps. He’s the type of guy who listens when you talk—and not the performative kind of listening, either. He’s actually… normal. Which, in your world lately, is the highest compliment a man can get.

You move into the living room just as Shoko reappears, now dressed and glowing—smoky eye, winged liner, black boots to match yours, and a wicked little smile.

“Ready to break hearts and maybe get free appetizers?”

You grin. “Born ready.”

You both are still doing last-minute primping when there’s a knock at the door. Three short taps.

“That’s probably Geto,” Shoko says, already moving toward the entrance. “I’ll get it.”

“Wait—” you start, but she’s already flinging the door open.

There’s a pause. An eerie silence.

Then Shoko’s voice, dry as sandpaper: “Oh. Hi. You’re not Geto.”

That voice—his voice—floats in next. “Technically, I’m with Geto. I just drove.”

You freeze in place.

No. No way.

You step forward just enough to peek past Shoko’s shoulder—and sure enough, there he is.

Gojo Satoru, in all his smug glory.

Wearing a fitted black long-sleeve shirt that clings to his frame a little too perfectly, sleeves pushed up just enough to show off his forearms, and those damn sunglasses propped lazily on top of his head. His snowy white hair is slightly tousled from the wind, like he just stepped out of a cologne ad. And he's holding car keys, spinning them on his finger like a menace.

Behind him, Geto stands calmly with his hands in his pockets, giving you a soft smile and an apologetic shrug. “He offered to drive.”

You blink at him. “He?”

Gojo winks. “Miss me?”

Shoko looks between the two of you like she’s slowly realizing she’s walked into a romantic subplot she didn’t sign up for.

You inhale deeply. “This was supposed to be a chill night.”

Gojo beams. “It still can be. I only bite if asked nicely.”

Shoko makes a face. “Okay. Ew.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and step back. “Let’s just… go before I change my mind.”

You grab your jacket and clutch, pulling the door closed behind you as the four of you head out into the cool evening air. The street is quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes before something definitely chaotic.

Sitting at the curb is a sleek black car that you now realize is Gojo’s. Of course it is. It’s obnoxiously expensive-looking, just like him.

He clicks the fob and the lights flash.

“Shotgun,” you say quickly, if only to avoid being crammed between the two of them in the backseat.

“Damn,” Shoko mutters. “I wanted front seat DJ privileges.”

“Next time,” you promise, stepping up to the passenger side.

Gojo opens your door for you with a dramatic bow, like he’s your chauffeur. “Milady.”

You glare. “If I trip in these heels, I’m taking you down with me.”

“Noted,” he says, but his grin only widens.

As you slide into the seat, you’re painfully aware of how close you’ll be for the next however-many minutes. His cologne is warm and spicy, something expensive you can’t place but absolutely hate that you like. He rounds the front and hops into the driver’s seat like he owns the road.

Geto and Shoko pile into the backseat, immediately starting a quiet conversation about some upcoming criminology project you vaguely remember from class.

Meanwhile, you buckle in, arms folded, refusing to acknowledge the man beside you.

Gojo glances over. “So…”

You don’t look at him. “Don’t.”

“You look very… coordinated tonight,” he says, trying not to smirk. “Let me guess. Took you three hours to put that outfit together?”

You turn slowly. “Five minutes.”

“Liar.”

You narrow your eyes. “I could say the same about your hair. What happened, did a tornado style it?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. “You wish you looked this good after a tornado.”

You scoff, staring out the window. “Unbelievable.”

“Also,” he says, flicking on the headlights, “you’re wearing my favorite color tonight.”

You blink. Slowly.

“It’s literally black,” you deadpan.

He grins. “Exactly.”

You clench your jaw, pretending your face isn’t heating up.

The car eases onto the road, the low hum of the engine a welcome distraction. You steal a glance at Gojo from the corner of your eye—he’s focused on driving, one hand casually gripping the wheel, the streetlights casting sharp shadows across his sharp jawline.

You hate how good he looks like this. Relaxed. Confident. Just enough of a mess to look effortless.

“Hey,” Shoko says from the backseat, leaning forward between the seats. “Can we get dumplings on the way? I’m starving.”

“Ugh, yes,” Geto agrees. “There’s a spot on 5th. Open late.”

Gojo nods. “You got it.”

Shoko settles back. “Okay. Gojo, you’re tolerable only if you drive well.”

“I’m an amazing driver,” he says confidently.

Geto scoffs. “You ran a red light last time we went anywhere.”

“Okay, but did we die?”

“You almost hit a trash truck.”

“But did we die?”

Geto coughs. “Barely.”

Gojo hums. “Tough crowd.”

As the car speeds down the street, your hand accidentally brushes against the console near Gojo’s. You pull it away like it burned, which—honestly—might be the most accurate metaphor for him in general.

He notices, of course. “Aw. I don’t bite, you know.”

You shoot him a side-eye. “You do. Constantly. Verbally.”

“Only because you’re cute when you’re mad.”

You pause. The air seems to thicken.

From the backseat, Geto quietly chuckles. Shoko mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, oh my god just kiss already, and you immediately whip around.

“I heard that.”

She shrugs, all innocent. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyway,” you say quickly, shifting in your seat and focusing very intently out the windshield, “let’s just get food.”

“Music to my ears,” Gojo says, reaching for the stereo. “What’s the vibe tonight? Flirty sad girl? Raging confidence? Chaotic neutral?”

Shoko answers before you can. “Anything but loverboy nonsense.”

He grins. “Too late.”

The opening notes of some slow, sultry R&B song filter through the speakers.

You bury your face in your hands. This is going to be a long night.

But maybe… not entirely in a bad way.

(taglist: comment if you want to be added )

@linaaeatsfamilies

@eolivy

[solomons-poison]

The Silvio baby fever never ends, I'm unwell

New dad!Silvio who cried when his child was born (he also cried at the pregnancy announcement, and the baby shower...). The word "family" has had strained meaning for him for most of his life, and he never really expected that he could ever form a family of his own, not a healthy one anyway. But here you two were, holding this wriggling bundle, the culmination of both years of desires and one stressful and wild courting experience.

New dad!Silvio so anxious about not having eyes on his baby, so the two are inseparable for the first several months. He can't trust anyone else but you and him to care for the baby, and he refused to have a wet nurse standby unless he could watch over. No, he's not overcautious, and you suppose that's fair given his family history. He's always been overprotective of you, so truthfully its no surprise when it extends to his child. If you need a break or have something you have to do, he'll take the baby with him to meetings then. Though, the nobles and merchants are noticeably distracted when he does so...

New dad!Silvio who refuses to sleep without his baby in the same room. It's an argument in and of itself just to get him to understand baby couldn't sleep in the bed with him, but he compromises with having the crib right by the bedside. At least he's very active in caring for baby, often being the first to get up when they cry and taking care of them.

New dad!Silvio who is incredibly loathe to admit that he trusts Rio as the only other party that can take care of baby when he or you can't do it. He's quick to insult Rio and will never let him know in words how he feels, but anyone watching can tell what the truth is.

New dad!Silvio who goes without his jewelry for the first time since he was a kid. He learns the hard way that the jewelry is 1. A choking hazard for his kid, 2. A choking hazard for him (he gets surprised how strong his baby is), and 3. Just an all around danger given how heavy it is and how his chains sometimes swing with gravity. The lack of jingling catches everyone by surprise for a while, he's unusually quiet.

New dad!Silvio who learns to embrace cheaper quality shirts. Normally he's all about high quality silks and such, a sign of his class and nobility just as much as his jewelry. But after the first several times baby has vomited on them, he understands its a losing battle.

New dad!Silvio who is already thinking about having another kid barely a few months in. He's anxious and he's exhausted and he's scared of being so emotionally vulnerable. But having a kid with you was one of the best things thats ever happened to him, second only to him marrying you. It's proof that he's found love and trust in someone, who loves and trusts him back, and the realization makes his heart ache.

[lycanloc]

We Need To Talk About This Keyblade

You may not recognize this Keyblade, and honestly, I don't blame you. Outside of the mobile games, it has only appeared on 358/2 Days. As time goes on and the DS family of consoles become more and more outdated as Kingdom Hearts grows in popularity and Days keeps becoming a movie rather than remade for consoles, a lot of content in Days simply won't be known by Kingdom Hearts fans. Hell, I was lucky to see a GameStop selling this, someone just happened to return their copy there.

So, what exactly is this Keyblade? Well, it comes from the Mystery Gear for the panel system. Gears take the role of Keychains, altering the appearance and stats of the weapon of the character you're playing as. The Mystery Gear is interesting because of its description.

"Transforms your weapon into one that draws forth its wielder's personality."

For Roxas and Xion, equipping the Mystery Gear turns the Kingdom Key into the Keyblade shown above; Aubade.

But what exactly does it represent? How exactly does it showcase their personality? And why do they share the same Keyblade for this?

Well, there's a lot to it, a lot more than would meet the eye. First, let's go over the appearance. The blade itself resembles a chokutō, which were also called tachi until the Heian Period. Chokutōs are similar to katanas, but they have straighter edges, have wooden handles, and have no handguard. They were used by infantry and foot soldiers before the rise of samurai, but their use as weapons died out around the 10th century.

The decision for a lesser version of a katana used by foot soldiers showcases Roxas and Xion's placement in the Organization. Necessary, but in the end, unimportant as a person. They were simply tools for Organization XIII to gather hearts for the artificial Kingdom Hearts, especially Xion as she was created as a puppet to hold Sora's memories between Chain of Memories and Kingdom Hearts 2.

Now, we move onto the additions, that being the hand guard and the teeth of the Keyblade. It's a bright yellow and turquoise, whole spiking outwards. The teeth connect to the blade via a Nobody sigil.

The star-like notif symbolizes light. This is partially because of the fact they both stem from Sora, who always fights on the side of light, even sealing various keyholes in Kingdom Hearts 1 on his journey to find his friends. But, not only that, it also symbolizes their hope. Even as Xion faded away, she had hope that Roxas would eventually reunite with Sora as well, and even after Xion was gone, Roxas had hope that he'd get the life he was used to back if he destroyed the artificial Kingdom Hearts.

But it's not just the appearance that carries weight. Thanks to the nature of how Keyblades are designed, the chokutō design of Aubade now has a handguard, making it more like a katana. Katanas were mainly wielded by samurai, warriors that served lords in Japan from 1185 to 1868. Samurai were, and still are, known for their strict code of honor.

What does this have to do with Roxas and Xion? Well, first there's the fact that Roxas's class of Nobody that he commanded was the Samurai, both sharing the Duel Stance reaction command (although it occurs randomly through the boss fight against Roxas rather than being an optional reaction command, the mechanic is still the same). Additionally, Roxas and Xion could be considering the most honorable throughout the Organization, genuinely wanting to help others and avoiding underhanded tactics if possible.

Last and not least, there is the name of the Keyblade. Aubade.

An Aubade is a song or poem which events occur during dawn and is traditionally about two lovers parting in the morning. Even if you don't ship Roxas and Xion, this is still very closely related to their story, especially near the end of the game. Twilight Town represents the dawn, being stuck in a perpetual state of, well, twilight. After spending nearly a year together, Roxas and Xion are forced to fight, with Roxas eventually coming out the victor and destroying Xion, losing his memories of her in the process; the two parting ways.

And this is only for two characters out of a roster of 18 characters, being the first Organization XIII +Xion, Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Riku, and Sora (Sora being playable after all Holo-Missions are 100% cleared). And such a simple design actually conveys quite a bit about the characters, while looking cool at the same time.

If you haven't played Kingdom Hearts... One, I am sorry for the spoilers, and two, you genuinely should give the series a chance, especially with the collections available on modern consoles and PC (just don't play them on Switch, the cloud versions are awful)

Even after so long, there's still so much that can be found in this series. I can't wait for Kingdom Hearts 4 information to come out, or anything pertaining to new Kingdom Hearts information. Regardless of your opinion on gameplay, we can all admit that Tetsuya Nomura has consistently been cooking, and hopefully he'll keep it up for as long as he can.

[syndromestatic]

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.

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

alas i've been filled with thoughts about Irving Braxiatel for the past few days so here's an.... essay i guess? if anyone's interested. everything's under the cut because i sure did write a lot! also about halfway through i start to talk specifically about my fanfic version of him so like. feel free to jump ship if you don't have any clue what i'm talking about.

to me, Braxiatel has always been a character obsessed with aesthetics. not in that he's a superficial character or that his art interest is only driven by collecting beautiful things, but that Braxiatel is very aware of how things look, how he himself looks, and he knows the aesthetics of power incredibly well.

when he founds his Collection, it is genuinely with the goal of creating a collection of all the knowledge and art in the universe accessible to anyone but art collection in itself involves engaging with and moving within certain hierarchies that are all rooted, deep down, in imperialism and classism. for Braxiatel – to be an art collector (at least on Earth) is to invest in those aesthetics of power. it's a classic trope that a character might not come from money and be broke as shit but as long as they maintain the appearance and aesthetics of wealth and power, they're acceptable. so Braxiatel chooses a first name associated with theatrics and class, he wears tailored suits, he never loses his carefully chosen demeanor, he lives in the goddamn palace of Versailles in an effort to cultivate his appearance and others' perceptions of him. it's even implicit that Braxiatel keeps the same face for multiple regenerations to keep that personal aesthetic he established.

but aesthetics aren't apolitical or amoral. inhabiting the aesthetics of power (at least based in upper class Europe) also means inhabiting those structures of power and over the course of the series you can see Braxiatel get caught up in those trappings particularly in his use of the Collection as a political (and imperial) force post-occupation.

[also just a wider side note for a second – i'm not trying to say that the use of certain aesthetics is inherently immoral, i think that sort of argument is a bit ridiculous and reactionary, but you do have to recognize the political and moral dimensions of aesthetic choices. like irl, it's pretty easy to see how quickly cute ~cottagecore~ aesthetics turned into a pipeline for tradwives and a rise in anti-feminism. same goes for most ~traditional~ aesthetics and whatnot.]

genuinely, i do think that Braxiatel's Whole Deal is a performance and a mask but he's worn the mask for so long that he's embodied its spirit (which, generally speaking, is the cultural role of masks). interestingly, you could say the same for the Doctor as their identity was never (in my view) inherent but something gathered over time because they kept being thrust into the role of 'hero'.

while i started writing this based mostly on thoughts of Braxiatel's role in the Benny series, this also applies to him in Gallifrey. it's really hard to get a sense of his character in Gallifrey because 1) he's still relatively young and hasn't gone through the Everything yet and 2) he's so deeply entrenched in Gallifreyan power structures that he never (or rarely) lets his genuine self through.

his role on Gallifrey is largely based in:

schemes and machinations to carry out various ends usually involving saving Romana: his early season appearances play this straight with him embodying that hero role he set himself up to inhabit, quite literally in the case of him taking the Chancellorship & Presidency which are two things that he personally does not want but is more than willing to cast himself in those roles of power for what he sees as the greater good. in later appearances (Soldier Obscura, Beyond) that illusion of him as the heroic hero crumbles as he doesn't have those power structures (or the aesthetics of power) to rely on.

his "love" of Romana: others may disagree (and no fault to them) but i don't ever see his love of Romana as genuinely romantic but rather him falling in love with the literal embodiment of power (and the embodiment of Gallifrey which in turn represents imperial power). all of his interactions with her are horribly insincere and all based around this constructed hierarchy of the President and her advisor even when that hierarchy isn't real and is only maintained through both of the characters demeanor and aesthetics (the way Romana is consistently referred as President throughout s4 despite in no way holding any rank).

Pandora: this is pretty obvious, i mean Pandora as an entity is power at its very core and it's important to remember that Braxiatel is infected with her throughout almost all of his appearances though it's ambiguous how much she's influencing his behavior. and it's important to remember that Braxiatel is specifically infected with the past and present aspects of Pandora which OH BOY definitely feeds into Braxiatel's worship of the past and how he keeps re-writing the past over and over again without being able to reach a future. but specifically, as i've said before, all of Braxiatel's aesthetics of power come from the past and how he wields history, in the academic & personal sense, as a weapon to control others.

but Braxiatel's investment in aesthetics as a means of power & control has another side too. for a lot of his appearances, Braxiatel is a good or at least a benign person who fights for the greater good. but because most of his identity is constructed, it becomes easier, when necessary, to twist himself into the role of the villain because it's just putting on a new mask, adopting a new aesthetic. at times in the Collection arc, he does become a bit of a mustache twirling Evil Guy but it makes sense to me because he's just leaning further into the imperialist white British man aesthetic (for lack of a more accurate description) that he's already cultivated throughout the years.

and he starts creating these roles, manipulating aesthetics, for other people too. Bev comes to the Collection as an art thief with no intention of staying but Braxiatel manipulates her to work for him and changes her aesthetic (having her dress differently, wear glasses) to be treated as a serious academic and not a thief (which is great until she gains the agency of a leader in Braxiatel's absence). and Braxiatel's manipulation of Jason is probably the most obvious with him editing his history and memories and everything about his life to keep him as a roguish, kind-of-an-idiot guy who's easier to understand and control. when Jason fights back because he is more than some archetype, Braxiatel has him killed in a horrible way to keep asserting power over those he thinks of as family.

it happens to Ace and Danna in Soldier Obscura too! Braxiatel arranges the whole scene as he would have in an early Gallifrey episode to assert power with Danna acting as a brave, self-sacrificial old soldier and Ace as his dutiful student but when neither of them act the way Braxiatel expects them to behave, he kills Danna and erases Ace's memory.

his worship of aesthetics as power and archetypes as identity went so far that when others don't behave as their archetype, their role, dictates, Braxiatel doesn't know what to do so he leaves them in one way or another. it's horribly tragic but it is the end point of a life built around cultivating appearances, managing aesthetics, and devising masks for himself.

[at this point, normal people might want to stop reading, everything after that is specifically about my fanfic And They Became Monsters (the fall of great men) including some big spoilers]

a lot of these thoughts fed into my writing of Braxiatel in ATBM and specifically the way i designed the two different versions of Braxiatel i wrote – the Braxiatel from Act 1 who lived his life without interference from the future and the Braxiatel from Act 2 who led his life being advised by his future self.

Braxiatel 1 played the game with aesthetics and power structures a fair bit – he tried to fit in with other Time Lords by pretending he was one of them and he embodied the 'wealthy patron of the arts' role very well and very purposefully during the St Oscar's years but he was never lost in this difference between the person he presented and the person he was. the only real moment of pretense in the fic is in chapter 9 when he meets the Oracle for the first time and refuses to accept that he has no greater role than to be Irving Braxiatel. so the Oracle instead tells him, (“You are an artist and you paint upon the universe as if it were your canvas. Time is but a medium to her master and you crush her underfoot. You will face war with a book of art. You will preserve history in a bottle. You will write the greatest tragedy in the universe.") which... it is true but only because Braxiatel makes it so, because he refuses to accept being himself and nothing more. and when Braxiatel asks how he will win, the Oracle only says that he must accept his fate. by the end of the story, we know this means Braxiatel can only escape this cycle he made for himself, he can only win, but accepting that he isn't the hero and was never meant to be anyone's savior. he can only win by asking for help. but Braxiatel in the moment takes this to mean that he is a hero and he keeps behaving like one.

Braxiatel 2 on the other hand, was a creation. he was told at age 8 that his whole identity hinged around stopping this ever elusive War and he was explicitly directed to focus all his energy, relationships, skills on reaching this goal. he became a mask. but more than that – he based his notions of power and control on the one person who seemed to have infinite power over him: himself. he becomes interested in art not because of any noble goal but because he knows Braxiatel loves art. he knows that Braxiatel wants to save Gallifrey so he does as well. he's not developing an identity, he's only imitating what he sees and hears about his other self.

and this is reflected (no pun intended) through the mirrors. the mirrors were introduced as a pair with the subtlest difference between them but as the story unraveled, we learned there was only ever one mirror sent down a cycle, reflecting the past and future. as Braxiatel 2 came to learn the truth about the mirror, he came to understand Braxiatel 1 as a liar and an abuser and he himself became villainous because his identity is nothing but a reflection. and in turn he manipulates and controls people the same way he was manipulated by Braxiatel 1. (at least until Act 3 when he starts to be able to break the cycle.)

i also chose to involve Faction Paradox (sort of...) in the fic because 1) it was a convenient way to wave away some of the time travel and paradox mechanisms (yeah sorry the story leans much more towards fantasy than science fiction), 2) the family symbolism worked so well, and 3) because their entire Thing is based in aesthetics. and the truth is (spoiler) Faction Paradox was never involved in the Braxiatel's life or in the creation of his paradox. the Godfather who initiated Braxiatel 1 was Braxiatel 2. they never went to the Eleven Day Empire, they went to a room that Braxiatel 2 and John dressed up to look like the Empire because all that matters is for Braxiatel 1 to believe the ruse and all that really takes is the aesthetics of the occult given how aesthetics have shaped his life. John is probably a member of Faction Paradox but his involvement in all of this is family business for the brother he never knew, not Family business. and when Braxiatel 2 takes off that literal mask (the mask of the man he never was), he is finally free to find his own identity and not live in the footsteps of someone else.

the other thing i wanted to talk about in relation to Braxiatel's sense of identity and relation to power is the title of the fic. the And They Became Monsters part was always pretty set in stone because it really is a lovely summary of how the story goes. but i added the subtitle (the fall of great men) pretty close to when i ended up publishing the fic because i kept thinking that And They Became Monsters is really only part of the story and Braxiatel doesn't end up as a monster, part of the point of the story is proving that dehumanizing someone as "a monster" as a way to explain their cruel actions only ends up causing them to commit more cruelty. it's easier for Braxiatel to play the role of the monster, aesthetics and all, than to be his own person. he may not earn redemption or forgiveness but that doesn't mean he can't do good.

(the fall of great men) is about the end of the story (Act 3 onward). "falling" is used as a repeated motif throughout the whole fic whenever Braxiatel starts to lose control of himself or the situation at hand. "great men" is specifically in reference to the idea of "great man theory", the lens of historical analysis from the 19th century that argues history is shaped by a few Great Men rather than the prevailing historical theories today that focuses on materialism, social environments, and people across classes. (as you would expect, today great men theory is usually peddled by white supremacists, fascists, and imperialists.)

Braxiatel viewed himself as a Great Man; he wanted to be a Great Man more than anything else to prove that he was extraordinary and important whether his ambitions were focused on Gallifrey or Venice or St Oscars or the Collection. and he had the accompanying aesthetics – a love of all things high art, a clean & carefully picked over demeanor, an acceptance of power in whatever form he could find. he literally rewrote history so he could be the Great Man Hero.

and it didn't work, it never worked, because great man theory isn't real and there was nothing Braxiatel could do to make it real and he knows that by the end of the story. he doesn't stop the war, he doesn't even stop himself, he asks for help and that's the only way to win.

And They Became Monsters is a version of great men history by putting Braxiatel at the center of everything, (the fall of great men) is saying that narrative is inherently flawed and not based in reality. great men will always fall because they aren't real, they're a dream for those who buy into simplistic individualistic stories and i'm sure Benny would agree that it's poor historical analysis. speaking of Benny, she literally comes in during the last chapter to say that none of this was Braxiatel's story, the narrative belongs to everyone and i love ending his story/beginning hers with the same "it's the biggest story every told" line from Crystal of Cantus where the line "and they became monsters" also originates. i'm just :) pleased with how i tied it together.

oh and i have (the fall of great men) in parentheticals because 1) i wanted to clarify that it's a subtitle and 2) it keeps up the notation that the Oracle uses whenever she speaks or adds in prose as a part of the narration as she's the only one who knew the narrative from the beginning (and part of a reason she's my screen-name/url at the moment).

anyways, this was incredibly long and rambly so thanks to whoever read any of it tbh but it was fun to actually write some of these thoughts down!

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Dangancember 2024 - Danganronpa Top 24 Class Trials - Number 6: Danganronpa V3 Case 4

//Case 1 and Case 4 of Danganronpa V3 are two of the most standout trials in the entire series. So much so, that seperating them, and deciding which one was better between the two, was nearly GODDAMN IMPOSSIBLE.

//Seriously, throughout the entire time I was making this list, having to choose between which case I liked better between this case and the first case of V3 was so insanely difficult.

//But in the end, I had to give it to Case 1. For the simple reason that I always tend to revisit Case 1 of V3, where I don't do the same, at least not nearly as much, for Case 4.

//And for very little reason other than that.

//Danganronpa V3’s fourth Class Trial is a bit of an enigma for me. On the one hand, I often find myself sweeping it under the rug when discussing the series, but on the other hand, I can’t deny that it’s one of the finest trials Danganronpa has ever crafted.

//Seriously, it’s sitting at a comfortable sixth place out of 30 cases in my personal ranking, so yeah, it’s undeniably great. I’m just selective about how much I acknowledge it.

//What makes this trial so fantastic is the way all its elements come together seamlessly: the jaw-dropping twist, the high-stakes context, and the deeply compelling mystery. With most of V3's cases, I feel they're a little...weaker overall, even if they are generally the more complex cases in the franchise, mainly because of the emotions they instill within me.

//But two of the cases, with Case 4 being one of them, are an exception to this. This one mainly because it’s a case that doesn’t just tell a story; it practically reinvents the game’s rules while doing so.

//The trial takes place inside a virtual reality simulation, reminiscent of something straight out of Sword Art Online.

//And yes, just like SAO, the stakes couldn’t be higher. If you die in the game, you die for real. That chilling premise alone opens up a Pandora’s box of possibilities and interpretations, making the entire case feel more dynamic and multidimensional than your average murder mystery.

//It’s also hilariously meta, and in the good way, unlike V3-6. Not only are you solving a murder in VR, but the case leans into the absurdity of its premise while staying true to the emotional core of Danganronpa’s storytelling. The layers of reality, fiction, and simulated existence blur so well that you can’t help but admire how cleverly it all fits together.

//So yeah, even if I don’t gush about this trial as much as some others, I’ll still tip my hat to it. It’s a wild ride that fully earns its place in the Danganronpa hall of fame.

//This chapter is… fine, but what really makes it stand out is how it aligns with a recurring theme in the main Danganronpa trilogy. In each game, the fourth chapter tends to focus on a character who, up until that point, seems to be thriving a little too comfortably in the chaos of the killing game. Whether they appear to be enjoying the despair or simply manipulating the situation to their advantage, Chapter 4 is where the narrative decides it’s time to shake things up and force some character growth, or, in some cases, a complete character overhaul:

In 1-4, Byakuya gets his reality check during the trial itself. After stubbornly clinging to his cold, cutthroat logic all game, he suffers a humiliating defeat in reasoning during the Chapter 4 trial, making him reconsider whether his worldview is truly as airtight as he believed. By the time the trial ends, he begins taking steps toward becoming a more dependable ally and declares that he won’t engage in any more killing.

In 2-4, Nagito's character arc takes a sharp left turn in the Case 4 investigation. Up until that point, Nagito had this weird self-deprecating reverence for the other Ultimates, treating himself like disposable trash unworthy of standing among them. But suddenly, after finding out the truth behind their identities, it’s like a switch flips. During the investigation, he becomes disturbingly self-assured, cruel, and downright dominant, flipping his dynamic with the group entirely. Now, instead of putting others on a pedestal, he’s treating them all like the garbage he once considered himself to be; and this segways into Chapter 5.

This idea literally goes double for A-4. Rei, typically dismissive and unhelpful, is shaken to the core when faced with Satsuki’s sacrifice. Haru, a victim, gave his life to save Satsuki by creating a Locked Room Mystery for her escape; a level of selflessness Rei has never witnessed, and when Satsuki confirms Haru’s sacrifice was real, Rei is stunned, unable to process such altruism. Meanwhile, Tsurugi, steadfast in punishing victims as chaos-causers, is thrown off balance by Satsuki’s unprompted confession. The idea of a victim helping their killer challenges his beliefs so profoundly that he passes out, forcing him to question his entire worldview.

Syobai literally becomes the player character in A2-4 for a part of the trial, and singlehandedly is forced into a position of leadership. It's a key moment for him and the mark of the game where he starts to take more initiative as a character, and go on his own quest to dick over Mikado and end the Killing Game.

//And then, in V3, there’s Kokichi Ouma, who, comparatively, takes the "fourth chapter personality shift" baton and runs to the end of the Earth with it.

//(Side note, I can't believe I'm actually talking about it here, but I have seen SO many people ask me why I spell it "Ouma" and not "Oma" like the dub does, especially since I don't call Kyoko "Kyouko" or Kirumi Tojo as "Toujou" when that's what it is in Japanese. It's because "Oma" means Horse in Japanese, and I don't want to call him "Kokichi Horse." That's weird. Also, I just prefer this spelling, it's as simple as that.)

//Kokichi, already a wildcard and a mischievous trickster, steps fully into his role as a scheming, manipulative VILLAIN, leaning hard into his calculating and almost theatrical nature. It’s a fascinating evolution, especially since his antics fill the tension void left by the previous case.

//Let’s be real, Case 3 had its moments, but Korekiyo Shinguji being both the killer and victim of his own twisted scheme felt more...uncomfortable, than genuinely intimidating.

//Kokichi, on the other hand, brings back that thick, suffocating air of distrust, which elevates the stakes nicely. All in all, the fourth chapter’s character transformations may follow a predictable formula, but they always deliver something fresh and memorable.

//But we'll come back to Kokichi later. Let's get talking about the trial itself, and why it's so unique.

//Danganronpa trials always tend to have a running theme with them throughout each game, and some of these work out better than others tend to. For example, all the first cases, a character who is seemingly important to the plot is suddenly taken away after they are killed. Case 2 always reveals a new, more ominous, secretive side to a character, who up until that point, had been rather unnasuming. And while not a lot of people like this fact, up to 3 people always die in Chapter 3 of each game.

//In Chapter 4, the running theme is that all the murders take place in a very liminal environment; different from anywhere else you've seen in the game, and with its own set of rules that differ from every other trial. In the other games, it's the Locked Room, the Funhouse, the Ballroom, and the Tower of Babel.

//But this setting is probably the most bizzare of them all, and by God, do they do some GOOD THINGS with it!

//The entire murder takes place inside a virtual reality simulation. A full-on digital world that, if I’m not mistaken, was originally created by Monokuma but later modified by none other than Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor.

//VERY CLEARLY a nod to Danganronpa 2, and that alone is great.

//Miu takes it upon herself to tweak the simulation, removing anything dangerous or sharp enough to become a potential murder weapon. Ironically, despite her best efforts, it’s Miu who ends up as the victim of this virtual whodunit.

//Now, here’s where things get juicy: this wasn’t your typical crime in the series. This was a murder gone horribly wrong.

//And what’s fascinating is that while this isn’t the first time something like this has happened in the series, it’s actually only the second, or if you’re really nitpicky, the fourth instance of a murder scheme backfiring. Let’s take a quick trip down memory lane, shall we?

//In Danganronpa 1 Sayaka cooks up a plan to kill Leon but ends up being the one who got skewered instead. Then in Goodbye Despair, Killing Harmony, and Another, the first cases also feature a twist where the killer’s original plan goes sideways, albeit in a slightly different flavor, with the killer targeting the wrong victim.

//But this case is the only other murder scheme, besides Sayaka's in Game 1, planned by the victim themselves.

//...Unless you count Haru in Another, which we've already been over, but you could also make the argument that Haru's plan was for him to be killed, while with Sayaka and Miu, their plans backfired.

//Miu, in all her chaotic, trash-talking glory, was planning to take out Kokichi. Being the brains behind the virtual world, she took full advantage of her role, laying out the rules of the simulation for everyone while sneakily fudging a few of the details to give herself the upper hand.

//Her goal? To execute the perfect crime, one that would be impossible to pin on her.

//Even though, upon reflection, the fact that she's the only one who COULD make the rules makes it pretty obvious that she's the one responsible. Had that been the case, I think that would have been too easy.

//Unfortunately for Miu, but fortunately for us, Kokichi is like a walking ad for 4D chess. He catches on to her plan faster than she can deliver one of her raunchy one-liners, and instead of walking into her trap, Kokichi flips the script, countering her scheme with a plan of his own.

//What ensues is a mind-bending trial where the layers of lies and manipulation make even seasoned players question what’s real and what’s virtual.

//This case stands out not just for its premise but for its audacious execution. A murder happening in a VR simulation is already enough to make it memorable, but the added twist of the victim being the would-be killer takes it to a whole new level of brilliance.

//And let’s not forget Miu herself: even in her final moments, she manages to be equal parts infuriating and hilarious, making her one of the most unforgettable characters in the series.

//I could do a whole character analysis on Miu, and I feel like I might want to one of these days, but today is not that day, because despite her integral role in this case, of the characters that are important to it, she is the least so.

//But with Miu dead, this leads into what is quite possibly the FUNNEST investigation and trial in the series.

//The real charm isn’t necessarily in the investigation process itself. It’s in the clues you uncover and the sheer thrill of piecing together how the crime could have possibly gone down.

//This isn’t your standard case where you’re dusting for fingerprints or deciphering alibis. No, this case takes place in a virtual, video-game-like world, and that alone makes it incredibly special.

//What really sets it apart is that solving the crime requires you to think in terms of VIDEO GAME LOGIC. And I don’t mean just understanding how games work on a design level, like balancing difficulty or crafting levels.

//We’re talking the nitty-gritty quirks of actual gameplay mechanics, stuff like looping worlds, invisible walls, glitches, and even loading screens. These elements aren’t just amusing easter eggs; they’re critical to figuring out how the murder was executed. It’s like being handed a mystery where the answers are buried not in reality, but in the code itself.

//For anyone who’s spent hours yelling at their screen over a bugged-out NPC or a weird collision glitch (Fuck you, Todd Howard), this investigation feels like a hilarious, and extremely meta, love letter to the quirks of gaming.

//This case’s brilliance lies in how it merges classic mystery-solving with the quirks of gaming, creating a truly unique experience. It’s the kind of investigation that makes you feel like both a detective and a speedrunner trying to glitch your way into an inaccessible area for clues.

//And let’s be honest, when you’re unraveling a crime that hinges on the kind of stuff we normally blame on bad game developers, it’s impossible not to have a little fun with it.

//But of course, the mystery and the setting of this crime don't carry the whole thing alone. The actual conflict itself is what makes this trial such an emotional rollercoaster, and hands down, there's one key element of this trial that shines out more than any other:

//Kokichi.

//We've already been over V3-5, and the role that Kokichi plays in that chapter, where his scheming all culminates into his final plan. But the biggest issue with that was how little closure it gave Kokichi, and how his plan felt like it was all part of Tsumugi's scheme anyway.

//But the SETUP for his character arc's conclusion, that we see in this trial, is BRILLIANT.

//I already kind of talked about this at the start, but let me reiterate my points in more detail here.

//Up until now, Kokichi has been the class’s resident chaos gremlin. Cocky, sarcastic, endlessly witty, and annoyingly good at making people want to strangle him.

//Whether he’s tossing out savage one-liners or cracking jokes at everyone else’s expense, Kokichi has spent most of the game toeing the line between a playful pest and a genuinely brilliant schemer. And no matter how much he got under your skin, you couldn’t deny that he was sharp as a tack, sometimes spotting clues even Shuichi, the Ultimate Detective, manages to miss.

//But in this trial? Kokichi doesn’t just steal the show. He sets the stage on fire, and crowns himself the ultimate supervillain.

//This is Kokichi at his absolute peak. Gone is the silly prankster who lived to push everyone’s buttons. In his place is a calculated mastermind who orchestrates Miu’s death in a way so devious and brilliant that it leaves you wondering just how deep his schemes go.

//And here’s the kicker: he didn’t even commit the murder himself. He set everything up like a diabolical puppetmaster, then let the crime unfold while keeping his hands technically clean. That fact alone? It’s the ace up his sleeve, and he’s not shy about rubbing it in your face for the entirety of the trial.

//Kokichi’s behavior in this case is a stage show of psychological warfare. At one point, just to prove how far ahead of everyone else he is, he flat-out CONFESSES to the crime and lays out every single detail.

//And no, it’s not because he’s trying to save anyone or come clean. Kokichi’s confession is less about honesty and more about spiting you. He doesn’t want you to have the satisfaction of piecing everything together. Instead, he hands you the answers on a silver platter, complete with that smug grin of his, just to prove that he’s always one step ahead.

//The best part is that even when Kokichi is acting like a full-blown villain, he’s still absolutely hilarious. Whether he’s taunting the group with his over-the-top theatrics or dropping perfectly timed quips, his antics add a layer of dark humor that keeps the trial both tense and ridiculously entertaining. It’s like watching a magician perform a trick while roasting the audience the entire time.

//But what makes his actions, and this case as a whole, even more heartbreaking and mind-boggling is the reveal of the real killer.

//Shockingly, the one who ACTUALLY murdered Miu...is GONTA!

//Gonta Gokuhara. The Ultimate Entomologist. The most wholesome, lovable, pure-hearted character in Danganronpa V3, heck, maybe even the entire Danganronpa franchise. The gentle giant who LEGITIMATELY wouldn’t hurt a fly (Though would probably hurt someone else for hurting the fly.) The guy who refers to himself in the third person and wants nothing more than to protect everyone, make friends, and be a true gentleman.

//That Gonta.

//Even though the big guys always die in the fourth chapter, unless you're Kakeru, To say Gonta being the culprit is shocking would be an understatement. While Gonta is undeniably kind and reliable, it’s no secret that he’s not exactly a mastermind. He’s easily manipulated, struggles to keep up in trials, and doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.

//So when it’s revealed that he killed Miu, the first reaction from everyone is sheer disbelief. How could Gonta, of all people, commit murder? And more importantly, why would he?

//What makes this moment so impactful is the reaction of the group. Once Kokichi drops the bombshell that Gonta is the killer, everyone scrambles to find excuses to prove him wrong. No one, not even Gonta himself, can believe it. Gonta, in his sweet and earnest way, tries to deny it, clinging to the idea that he could never willingly hurt someone. But the cold, hard evidence keeps piling up, and by the end, there’s no escaping the truth.

//The only two people in the room who seem willing to entertain the possibility are Shuichi and Keebo. Shuichi, being the Ultimate Detective, reluctantly follows the evidence where it leads, no matter how painful the conclusion may be. Keebo, ever the logical one, processes the facts without the emotional bias the others cling to. But for everyone else, especially Kaito, and even Maki, the mere idea of Gonta being the culprit is too much to bear.

//And that’s where Kokichi pulls off another one of his devious moves. By exposing the truth and forcing Shuichi to press forward, he drives a wedge between Shuichi and Kaito, effectively turning Kaito against him. Kaito, the ever-loyal and stubborn optimist, refuses to believe that Gonta could be capable of such a thing. His faith in Gonta, and his growing detest of Kokichi, creates a painful rift in what was once a strong friendship.

//What’s even more brilliant about this setup is another reason why the investigation is so good, in how it creates the perfect misdirection. Gonta is a notoriously sweet and loveable guy whose idea of "video game logic" probably involves pressing random buttons until something works. Early in the investigation, you’re almost sure he couldn’t have done it because, let’s face it, even if you walked him step-by-step through how world loops or loading zones work, his brain would still be stuck in "kind gentleman" mode.

//So, when the evidence eventually points to him as the killer, it’s a jaw-dropping moment. The fact that the least tech-savvy person in the group was somehow the linchpin in this digital murder mystery is both tragic and utterly shocking.

//This case doesn’t just deliver a shocking twist; it weaponizes the emotional bonds between the characters to make the reveal hit even harder. Gonta’s reveal as the killer isn’t just surprising, it’s tragic, and it leaves a scar that lingers long after the trial is over.

//And the trial itself rides on these character moments, but it sure as hell doesn't die on them.

//If the concept of a murder mystery set inside a virtual reality simulation wasn’t already enough to make this case one of the standout moments in Danganronpa, then the trial itself takes things to levels of brilliance and emotional devastation that few could have anticipated.

//This trial isn’t just good; it’s a masterclass in everything the series does best: crafting intricate mysteries, delivering gut-wrenching twists, and tying it all together with compelling character moments that leave you reeling. It’s a case that combines innovation, heartbreak, and even absurdity into one unforgettable experience.

//When the trial begins, suspicion immediately falls on Kaito, a favorite target thanks to his hot-headed nature and frequent clashes with Kokichi. The evidence against him is damning on the surface: he logged out of the virtual world earlier than anyone else, and a bottle of poison was found on his seat in the real world.

//All signs initially point to him being the culprit. However, things are rarely that simple in Danganronpa, and this case is no exception. As the trial progresses, we learn that the setup against Kaito was actually the handiwork of none other than Miu herself.

//As I eluded to earlier, Miu had concocted an elaborate scheme to murder Kokichi and frame Kaito for the crime. She planted the poison and forced Kaito to log out early, expecting that these details would make him the prime suspect. It’s a devious plan worthy of her sharp mind, but in a cruel twist of irony, Miu ends up dead instead.

//And how, you ask? By being strangled to death…with toilet paper.

//Yes, toilet paper.

//That’s the murder weapon.

//While it might sound absurd...and it is...it makes perfect sense within the context of the virtual world. Just exhibit A of why this case uses the unrealistic logic of the game world so damn well.

//In the VR simulation, objects are unbreakable, meaning that even something as flimsy as toilet paper becomes as strong as a rope. While this detail initially seems like a quirky bit of world-building, it turns out to be the key to unraveling the mystery.

The moment it’s revealed that Miu was killed with toilet paper, the case takes on an entirely new level of not just hilarity, but complexity. It’s a reminder of how cleverly the trial uses the unique mechanics of the virtual world to craft a mystery that could only exist in this game.

//But the ingenuity of the murder weapon is just the beginning. As the trial unfolds, the focus shifts from solving how the crime was committed to figuring out who the culprit is, and this is where things get truly heart-wrenching. The culprit isn’t some cunning mastermind or morally gray antihero, and is instead the gentle giant with a heart as pure as freshly fallen snow.

//For Gonta who wants nothing more than to protect his friends and be a gentleman, the very idea of him committing murder is unthinkable, not just to the characters but to the player as well.

//And yet, it’s true. Gonta killed Miu. But the twist doesn’t stop there...because he doesn’t even remember doing it!

//Due to a mix-up with the VR helmet cords, Gonta experienced memory loss upon logging out of the virtual world. He has no recollection of the events that transpired in the simulation, including the murder!

//This detail adds a tragic layer to the trial, as Gonta’s confusion and heartbreak become almost unbearable to witness. The group is torn between their trust in Gonta’s inherently good nature and the mounting evidence against him. Even Gonta himself struggles to reconcile the truth, repeatedly insisting he would never do it.

//The emotional weight of the trial is further heightened by the reactions of the other characters. No one wants to believe Kokichi when he suggests that Gonta might be the killer, while Kokichi, ever the manipulative trickster, delights in dropping this bombshell, though his accusations are met with immediate resistance.

//Everyone scrambles to find alternative explanations, desperate to clear Gonta’s name. Even Shuichi, who is typically steadfast in his pursuit of the truth, hesitates to accept the implications of the evidence. However, as the trial progresses, it becomes impossible to deny the facts, and the group is forced to confront the devastating reality.

//One of the most powerful moments in the trial comes when Kaito, Shuichi’s closest ally and staunchest supporter, turns against him. Manipulated by Kokichi, Kaito lashes out at Shuichi, accusing him of being too focused on the truth to consider the emotional toll it takes on others.

//I won't go as far as to call it a "betrayal" because it's nothing that serious, but considering the bond between Shuichi and Kaito has been one of the few sources of stability throughout the game, watching their friendship fracture under the weight of this trial is a testament to how deeply Kokichi’s schemes have sown discord among the group.

//Gonta's breakdown as the truth comes to light is one of the most gut-wrenching moments in the entire series. The tragedy of his character arc is amplified by the fact that he doesn’t remember committing the crime. He doesn’t get the chance to explain his actions or defend himself. Instead, he’s left to grapple with the knowledge that he did something he would never have consciously chosen to do. It’s a unique conflict that’s rarely explored in murder mysteries and one that V3 handles with surprising nuance.

//I also want to draw attention to the voice acting, specifically with the English Dub (since that's the version I played), which takes this trial to an entirely new level of emotional devastation.

//Kaiji Tang’s performance as Gonta is nothing short of phenomenal, capturing the character’s confusion, sorrow, and desperation with heartbreaking authenticity.

//But more than him, remember how I said that there were four voice performances in the main Danganronpa series that I thought were absolutely phenomenal for the breakdowns in the series? Marieve Herington as Celeste was the first one, Kira Buckland as Kirumi is the second, and the third is Derek Stephen Prince as Kokichi.

//He's insanely good throughout the whole game, but he shines especially here, delivering lines with a blend of smugness and chilling calculation that makes him simultaneously infuriating and fascinating.

//Kyle Hebert’s portrayal of Kaito adds layers of frustration and vulnerability, while Dorothy Fahn brings subtle depth to Tsumugi (shockingly). The voice work is so impactful that it enhances every twist and turn of the trial, making the emotional moments hit even harder.

//In the end, this trial isn’t just a showcase of clever writing and innovative mechanics. It’s an emotional rollercoaster that pushes the characters and the player to their limits.

//From the absurdity of the murder weapon to the heartbreaking revelations about Gonta, every aspect of this case is meticulously crafted to leave a lasting impression. It’s not just a standout moment in Danganronpa V3, it’s one of the best trials in the entire franchise, a perfect blend of creativity, tragedy, and unforgettable storytelling.

//...Almost...

//I don't want to end this on a negative note or anything, but there is another reason why I ultimately had to put this trial below V3-1. It's far from a major problem that completely ruins my opinion of the trial, obviously, but dear God did it test my fucking patience.

//Put simply...

//This trial and this Chapter are where the MONOKUBS are at their MOST INSUFFERABLE!

//Crazy, because at this point in the game, there's only two of them left!

//I largely boil this down to Monodam dropping out of the story prior to this chapter, but Monophanie and Monotaro single-handedly come close to RUINING this Chapter because of how goddamn fucking INCORRAGABLE they are. Legitimately, the only thing that they did that I thought was entertaining was Monotaro proclaiming Miu as his mother, but that's largely because of Miu and not him.

//To make a long story short, I really feel SO GLAD for the people who actually liked the incest stuff that happened in Case 3, because HERE! YOU HAVE MORE OF IT!

//In this chapter, Monotaro suffers memory loss, causing him to forget who Monophanie and Monokuma are. Monophanie, in an attempt to help him remember, beats him with a frying pan. This leads to a bizarre and disturbing romantic relationship between the two, despite being family.

//The next day, Monotaro turns abusive toward Monophanie, and though he later apologizes, it paints a toxic and uncomfortable dynamic. Monophanie becomes jealous of the students as Monotaro bonds with them and starts to act like a father figure when they believe she’s pregnant. However, this is all part of a gruesome execution, where a giant insect bursts from Monophanie’s stomach and kills both Monokubs.

//This entire plotline trivializes what are actually some SERIOUS ISSUES in a disturbing, exploitative way, and turns it into an uncomfortable "spectacle." It's hands down the ABSOLUTE WORST THING that happens in ALL of V3, and possibly the entire main trilogy, especially because it takes place in what is otherwise one of the BEST CHAPTERS in the series!

//But Oh! OOOH! OOOOOOOOOOOOH IT DOESN'T STOP THERE! IIIIIT DOOOOEEESSN'T STOOOOP THEEEERE!

//Ahem...

//Sorry...In case it wasn't obvious, this REALLY upsets me. But I'll try and stay professional.

//Largely the reason I've never gone over them before this point is because the only other time in the game where the Kubs actively play a part in the trial is in Case 2, when Monosuke, after acting all high and mighty towards his siblings, accidentally gives away a major clue in the trial. But that was actually a pretty entertaining part.

//Here, Gonta's execution, and his final moments, are completely RUINED by the Monokubs. And any emotional tension and misery that you're feeling for him in his final moments are completely taken away!

//While the execution itself is by no means poorly done, and it does feature one of my favorite music tracks from the series, it definitely doesn't give Gonta the fitting send-off he deserved.

//Sure, it’s undeniably tragic, with Gonta being attacked by robotic wasps, stabbed in the chest, and ultimately set on fire. Quite a violent and gruesome way to meet his end; but here’s the issue: The execution doesn’t focus on Gonta’s death as much as it should.

//Instead, a significant portion of the sequence is dedicated to Monophanie and Monotaro’s bizarre, unsettling bug-related antics, which just feels…off.

//While the gruesome spectacle is certainly chaotic and violent, the sequence spends a substantial amount of time on the absurd antics of Monophanie and Monotaro, especially their bizarre "bug baby" plotline.

//Now, the Monokubs meeting their end in these executions isn’t new. This is, after all, the last time we see any of them perish. But this one feels like the worst offender. When Monokid and Monosuke died during Kaede and Kirumi’s executions, I wasn’t bothered too much because their deaths were brief and didn’t take the spotlight away from the main event. Monodam’s death, on the other hand, was genuinely surprising, and despite some focus on him, the context made it feel fitting.

//But here? We’ve crossed a FUCKING line. The execution becomes less about Gonta's tragic demise and more about this uncomfortable and frankly weird bug child subplot. Honestly, by this point in the series, I’m pretty done with the odd, incestuous undertones, and I certainly didn’t need to be subjected to a whole execution where that’s the central theme, while Gonta himself feels like an afterthought.

//Le sigh...

//Aside from everything else, I feel it’s worth repeating that this case is crafted in a pretty impressive way. The sheer creativity and intricacy behind it can't be ignored. And while the execution itself leaves something to be desired (and by "something," I mean "a whole lot"), I don't think that should take away from how well the rest of the case is put together.

//I mean, the story, the twists, the atmosphere...it all comes together in a way that's hard to ignore. Even if the final outcome feels like a botched cake at the bakery...all gooey on the inside and looking suspiciously like a science experiment gone wrong...the overall design of the trial is still pretty solid.

//It’s like watching a magician pull off an incredible trick, only for the rabbit to hop away halfway through. You can’t really blame the trick just because the rabbit decided to bail.

//So while I can’t overlook how poorly the final bits were handled, the rest of the case is still good enough to hold up.

[thryth-gaming]

25th Game - Fantasy AGE 2nd Edition

(Note, I posted this to the wrong blog at first... oops, you can find a link to my Gorgon Archer blog on my pinned table of contents post)

So, I've done an AGE game in the past here with Modern AGE, which itself used a bit from Cthulhu Awakens. Fantasy AGE isn't the original game in the line, that would be Dragon Age TTRPG, but it is the first to take the engine in its own direction.

They've recently put on an update to Fantasy AGE, most of it is still compatible with 1st Edition, but they've had a few changes that are interesting. I really should do Cthulhu Awakens, because that game does a lot of interesting things with the basic assumptions. Anyway, I'm not going too deep into the differences between 1st edition and 2nd edition, but I will be using a 1st edition option called "Blooded" for producing characters with some influence from monsters in their ancestry. I've been assured this is no problem and fits in well with the balance of 2nd edition.

Fantasy AGE 2nd ed includes at least one concept from Modern AGE, levels adding to Defense directly. Aside from that though, there are significant differences in character creation from Fantasy AGE and Modern AGE.

Things in common:

Both use Talents and Specializations which are split into three ranks of accomplishment.

Both use the same set of nine Abilities.

Both use Ability Focuses in place of skills.

Both use Social Class and Backgrounds as a character creation element.

Where they differ:

Fantasy AGE 2e uses Classes Modern AGE doesn't unless you're using optional rules in the Companion. Modern AGE has Professions, but they're a character creation only thing and don't have near the impact as Classes do.

Fantasy AGE does not have a Drive like in Modern AGE.

Fantasy AGE 2e uses Ancestries where as Modern AGE only has that as an optional rule in the Companion called "People".

Fantasy AGE 2e's Ability Focuses improve from +2 to +3 automatically at level 11, with the option to bring them to +1 if you spend an extra Ability Focus resource on that Focus.

Fantasy AGE 2e provides a lot more chances to get Specializations than Modern AGE.

Fantasy AGE 2e has Class-specific Stunts.

Aside from the last three things, this is mostly the same set of differences between Fantasy AGE 1e and Modern AGE. The increased access to Talents feels a bit like what goes on with Cthulhu Awakens.

As a note, another change from Fantasy AGE 1e to 2e is that there are now four classes instead of three: Envoy, Mage, Rogue, and Warrior. Envoy is the new class.

Other than that, there is still a 9 step process but with some differences:

1: Concept

2: Abilities

3: Ancestry

4: Social Class and Background

5: Class

6: Equipment

7: Calculate Defense and Speed

8: Name

9: Goals and Ties

We've already got our concept in mind, a gorgon archer, anything more detailed will come later on as we move through the steps.

Step Two - Abilities

In 1st edition, the default method for determining Abilities was to roll for them. There was an optional method to buy them up. Now that has reverse, with the default being to have Abilities all start at 0 and then spend 13 advances to increase them up to a max of 3. The rolling method allows for a max of 4 if you roll an 18, but also allows for hitting -1 or even -2. I'm going to stick to the default and spend 13 advances.

The nine Abilities are as follows:

Accuracy - Skill with handling ranged combat and finesse weapons.

Communication - Ability to interact with people. Includes both friendly and unfriendly interactions.

Constitution - Physical resilience. Helps determine hit points.

Dexterity - Agility, flexibility, and things like sleight of hand, stealth, and acrobatics.

Fighting - Skill with fighting in melee.

Intelligence - Logic, memory, and knowledge.

Perception - Awareness of the world around you.

Strength - Physical strength and feats such as climbing and lifting weights.

Willpower - Courage, self-discipline, faith. In addition this ability determines how many magic points casters get.

With that said, I'm going to hold off on finishing up this section until I've hit some of the later options and firmed up details on the concept.

Step Three - Ancestry

2nd Edition has a few Ancestries that are relatively new to the game. Some of them appeared in supplements to the 1st edition version of the game. Each Ancestry provides the following:

An option chosen from two Ability Focuses.

Whether or not they have Dark Sight or not.

Base Speed

Languages.

A chart the player will roll on twice to get additional benefits

It has basically the same Mixed-Ancestry rules as we saw in 1st Edition: Choose which ancestry is the dominant one, get those basic benefits. Then instead of rolling twice on the same chart, they roll once on each Chart. The game notes that Mixed Ancestry can be either a person raised in a culture unusual for the Ancesty, such a human raised by goblins, or a case of biological parents from two different Ancestries.

Mixed Ancestry also has you choose which of your Ancestries you count as for the purpose of Talent or Stunt prerequisites. I have some issues with this approach and would much rather allow the player to take from both sets of Talents and such. It feels a bit icky to make someone of mixed heritages choose which of their ancestries is their primary.

Regardless, this is a case where I'm going to dip into a 1st Edition supplemental option. Namely, the Blooded. Because if there is an official way to get something more specifically gorgon, I'll take it. Also, Green Ronin (the publisher) has said most of 1st Edition is compatible and the community has agreed this option is definitely in that category. I will note that a lot of the 2e benefit charts have special abilities for each ancestry that were not present on the 1st edition charts. So the chance of getting a special power out of the Blooded benefit charts is now a bit more even with the core ancestries.

One thing different though, 1st edition Ancestries gave a base +1 bonus to one of your character's abilities. 2nd edition Ancestries don't do that, so I'm going to remove that from the base traits of Blooded. However, there is still the likelihood of rolling a bonus to an ability on the benefit chart.

As to the benefit chart, this is what the Blooded have:

The stat block I'm definitely using the 2nd Edition Medusa stat block, which is given the alternate name of "Gorgon". I do wish they'd made "Gorgon" the default name rather than Medusa. Note, SP=Stunt Points.

The game doesn't specify, but I'm going to approach this as if you can't get the same benefit twice.

So, first, I'm going to choose an Ability Focus and I'm going to avoid Weapon Focuses since no Ancestries give those in the base bonuses.

That leaves: Stealth, Stamina, Intimidation, Seeing, and Historical Lore.

I'm going with Seeing because the benefit of having multiple sets of eyes from the snake hair is often something I often represent as a bonus to perception checks.

Speed is a base 10 + Dexterity (minus armor penalty if applicable)

Languages will be Common and

Now, to fill out the chart....

Instead of the Highest ability being at 2, I'm putting it at 7-8. I believe it was at 2 before because the base, unrolled traits would give it a +1 in 1st edition, so I'm tweaking to adjust for 2e's ancestries.

2: +1 Accuracy +1

3-4: Perception (Smelling) - Scent is another snake thing.

5: Strength (Intimidation)

6: Weapon Group: Bows or Accuracy (Bows) if the class gives it.

7-8: Constitution +1

9: Constitution (Stamina)

10-11: Petrifying Gaze, but reducing the damage to 1d6+1 to account for the Penetrating nature of it and bring it somewhat in line with the Draak ability to breath fire for 2d6 damage.

12: Perception +1

For rolls, I get a 4 and an 11. Huh... Perception (Smelling) and Petrifying Gaze. And yes I rolled that. Was actually hoping for an Ability bonus.

I'm assuming that she represents a non-monstrous gorgon rather than a blend of gorgon and something else. So the monstrous varieties are corrupted in some way rather than naturally occurring species. Toward that end, I'm going to assume she tries to keep her petrifying gaze a secret when she can. My guess is it would be a trait associated with the corrupted gorgons and likely to get her badly looked at.

Step Four - Social Class and Background

This is also decided by die rolls and mostly determines some roleplaying bits and a single ability focus. It also heavily impacts starting wealth.

You roll 1d6 for Social class:

1: Outsider

2-3: Lower Class

4-5: Middle Class

6: Upper Class

And then you roll another 1d6 for one of the 6 presented backgrounds for each social class. For our character, the rolls are: 4 and 4... which after I set ahead of time which color die is which and rolled them together makes me feel a little silly.

That's Middle Class from a Merchant background.

Merchant provides either Communication (Bargaining) or Communication (Deception). I was going with Bargaining first, but instead I think a history of trying to conceal her gaze ability leans toward Deception.

Step Five - Determine Class

Okay, I'm wanting to lean into the Merchant background thing and towards that I just want to check one thing... and yep, the Envoy does get the opportunity to choose "Bows" as a weapon group. However, Accuracy is a "Secondary" ability for the Envoy so this would be an unusual approach.

You know what... I also want to play with the new class. Envoy it is. I mean, how often can I possibly have done Charisma-types in this Gorgon Archer blog?

Anyway, with that decided time to go back to do the Abilities.

Step Two, Redux - Abilities

All right, so we have 13 points to spread between nine Abilities. I'm going to list them as priorities for concept.

Communication

Accuracy

Intelligence, Willpower, Perception, Dexterity

Constitution

Strength (all bows have a minimum of Strength 1)

Fighting

So, with that said, and including focuses we've already gotten:

Accuracy 2

Communication 3 (Deception)

Constitution 1

Dexterity 2

Fighting 0

Intelligence 2

Perception 1 (Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1

Willpower 1

Step Five, the Return - Determine Class

Okay, back to class. The Envoy gets the character the following:

Primary Abilities: Communication, Fighting, Intelligence, Willpower

Secondary Abilities: Accuracy, Constitution, Dexterity, Perception, Strength

Starting Health: 25 + Constitution + 1d6 (4)

Three Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, Light Blades (all of these use Accuracy as their attack stat)

Then we have the level 1 Class Powers:

Coordinate - You have the ability to give Stunt Points to allies

Dazzle - You can dazzle opponents with Charisma to improve your Defense.

Social Chameleon - You have a second Background and social class, and thus an extra ability focus. One is the society you were born to, the other is the society you integrated into.

Starting Specialization from the following list: Arcane Disciple, Aristocrat, Bard, Champion, Crime Lord, Diplomat, Heritage (Divine, Fey, or Infernal), Knight, Mariner/Pirate, Marked, Mystic Navigator, Spy, Skald.

Two Talents from the list: Animal Training, Carousing, Command, Contacts, Inspire, Intrigue, Linguistics, Lore, Oratory, Performance.

Social Chameleon says you choose the second class and background, but I'm going to roll for it, just for fun. However, I will re-roll if I get middle class again. Also, "Merchant" I'm saying is where she's ended up rather than where she was born. The result is a 2 and a 2, so she was born a laborer and ended up a merchant. The second focus she's getting out of this is a choice of Constitution (Stamina) or Strength (Might). I'm going with Stamina. The power indicates that when determining wealth, you use the higher of the two classes. So she'll have Middle Class starting wealth.

For specialization... I'm going to go with Marked, a person who has magical tattoos.

For her two Talents, I going to choose: Contacts and Linguistics.

She gets her Specialization and Talents at Novice rank which means:

Novice Marked Specialization: Choose one Mark. I'm choosing the Mark of War, allowing her to stow a two-handed weapon (like a bow) in a mark on her body. It will be the mark of serpent-tailed gorgon using a bow (she has legs, btw)

Novice Contacts Talent: The ability to make contacts out of NPCs you just barely met.

Novice Linguistics Talent: A third language, I'm going to say Goblin.

And that is her class.

Step 6 - Choose Equipment

We get some things automatically:

Backpack and waterskin

Traveler's Garb

As an Envoy, light leather armor and one weapon, it's going to be a longbow.

Due to taking a longbow, she also gets a quiver of 20 arrows.

And she has some starting wealth. As Middle Class she starts with 50+3d6 silver pieces. The roll is a 15, so 65 silver pieces.

With that, she's going to get herself the following:

Short Sword, Light Blades Group, 1d6+1, Min Str -1. 14 silver

Spyglass, 15 silver

Bedroll, 10 silver

Silk Rope, 10 silver

Lantern, 5 silver

Mirror (hand, metal), 3 silver

And that leaves 8 silver left over.

Step 7 - Calculate Defense and Speed

Light Armor gives her an Armor Rating of 3, which reduces the damage of incoming attacks by 3. But this is different from Defense.

Defense is 10 + Dexterity + a shield bonus, if you have one... which our character does not.

So her Defense is 12.

Speed is based on your ancestry and we already saw that as 10 + Dexterity. Light Leather Armor does not have an armor penalty.

So her Speed is 12.

Step 8 - Name

I'm going to go ahead and turn to Fantasy Name Generator for this as they have a gorgon name generator. A lot of those are somewhat unpronounceable, but I did see the name Kaelcia and I like that. And for a surname, I'm going to say Skyscale

So, her name is Kaelcia Skyscale.

Step 9 - Goals and Ties

For goals, you choose a mix of any number of short and long term goals to describe your character's motivations. And for ties, we create a bit of history with the other characters... and for that, I need to create some other characters. To avoid a whole other character trait, I'm going to roll some random traits for three other characters, one of each of the other three classes:

Wulfram Hayward. Mage: Halfling Scribe (Middle Class), Specialization: Arcane Scholar. Talent: Chirurgy. Arcana: Divination, Healing.

Naesala Keyzeiros, Rogue: Elf Sailor (Lower Class), Black Powder weapons, Specialization: Spy, Talent: Thievery

Ettioc Macebearer, Warrior: Goblin Squire (Upper Class), Weapon Groups: Dueling, Slings, Staves. Specialization: Champion. Talents: Unarmed Style, Weapon and Shield, Armor Training.

I'm going to say the following:

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

For ties, I'm going to say the following:

Ettioc was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala decided travelign with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

And thus we have the following completed character.

Kaelcia Skyscale - 1st Level Envoy

Origin

Ancestry: Blooded (Gorgon)

Original Background: Laborer (Lower Class)

Current Background: Merchant (Middle Class)

Abilities

Accuracy 2

Communication 3 (Deception)

Constitution 1 (Stamina)

Dexterity 2

Fighting 0

Intelligence 2

Perception 1 (Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1

Willpower 1

Traits

Health 30

Defense: 12 (14 with Dazzle)

Speed: 12

Armor Rating: 3 (Light Leather)

Dark Sight: 20 yards

Language: Common, Serpentine, Goblin

Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, and Light Blades

Class Features

Coordinate

Dazzle (+2 Defense)

Social Chameleon

Stunts

All basic Stunts

Petrifying Gaze (2 SP)

Specializations and Talents

Novice Marked

Novice Contacts

Novice Linguistics

Marks: Mark of War (stash weapon in extradimensional pocket)

Gear

Light Leather Armor, (AR: 3)

Long Bow, 20 Arrows

Spyglass

Bedroll

Silk Rope

Lantern

Hand Mirror (metal)

8 Silver Pieces

Goals

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

Ties

Ettioc (Goblin Warrior) was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala (Elf Rogue) decided traveling with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram (Halfling Mage) is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

I plan to do an advancement on this character, but I'll edit that in later... and I'll do it full to 20th level because I've heard commentary that there's not enough variety of Specializations and Talents to fit all the options you get and I want to see. But for now, I need to take a break.

Okay, time to level things up

First, let's establish some things. A theorycraft like this cannot replace an actual campaign as you will encounter things in gameplay that change up your ideas of what sound good. Also, I do not have a particularly good way to simulate rewards outside of leveling such as wealth, gear, social contacts (important to an Envoy), achievement of goals, or character interaction.

Also, let's summarize some things here.

Kaelcia's Primary Abilities: Communication, Fighting, Intelligence, and Willpower

Kaelcia's Secondary Abilities: Accuracy, Constitution, Dexterity, Perception, Strength

Health increases as follows:

From levels 2-10, Kaelcia gains 1d6+Con Health

From levels 11-20, Kaelcia gains only her Constitution each level.

Even-Numbered Levels provide the following:

One Ability Advancement to a Primary ability.

One Stunt Advancement. At levels 6, 12, and 18 these can be from any class.

One Talent Advancement.

One Ability Focus to a Primary ability

Odd-Numbered Levels provide the following:

One Ability Advancement to a Secondary ability

One Specialization Advancement. Specialization advancements can be spent on regular Talents if desired with some restrictions.

One Ability Focus to a Secondary ability

Levels 4,8, and 12

Gain one Ability Focus of your choice.

Then we have the following individual improvements:

Level 4 - Pick up the Doubletalk class feature.

Level 6 - Gain +1 Defense and Add Weapon Focus to damage.

Level 8 - Pick up the Stunning Repartee class feature.

Level 11 - Gain +1 Defense, Dazzle improves, Focuses improve to +3, ability to double focus

Level 16 - Gain +1 Defense, May add Stunt die to damage against some enemies.

Level 20 - Pick up the Epic Envoy class capstone

Ability Advancements

These get more expensive as the ability gets higher.

Ability up to 5, 1 advance equals +1

Ability from 6-8, 2 advances equal +1

Ability 9 or higher, 3 advances equal +1

So you can get superhuman in one stat at a cost of being average to decent in everything else, or you can be strong in several stats.

Stunts

Stunt points are generated sometimes when you roll dice. This game uses 3d6+Ability+Focus (if you have it) to test success. One of your dice is designated the stunt die, it will be a different color. If you roll doubles on a successful test, you also generate stunt points equal to whatever you rolled on the stunt die.

You can also take a special "Stunt Attack" that deals no damage itself but automatically generates at least 2 stunt points and these will be added on top of any stunt points generated by rolling doubles.

Kaelcia's Levels 2-5

Level 2

+1 Willpower

For the Stunt Advancement, she chooses the Envoy option to make a basic social Stunt cheaper and chooses "Crowd Appeal", making it cost 1 SP per extra target rather than 2 SP.

For the Talent Advancement, she takes the Archery Talent at Novice level.

She takes the Communication (Etiquette) focus

She rolls a 2 and gains 3 Health.

Level 3

+1 Perception

Picks up the Novice Diplomat Specialization (She meets the requirements) and for the two focuses the Novice rank affects she chooses Communication (Etiquette) and Intelligence (Cultural Lore), so she'll pick up the second one in a moment.

She takes Accuracy (Bows)

This time she gains 4 Health.

Level 4

+1 Communication

For the Stunt, she picks up "Rouse", it costs 5 SP so it won't happen often, but it's a chance to get someone from 0 Health back into the fight... as long as they're not unconscious.

For the Talent Advancement, she improves Contacts to Expert. This makes it easier to get favors from Contacts.

She takes the Intelligence (Cultural Lore) focus

She also takes the Communication (Bargaining) focus as her Envoy level 4 bonus focus.

She gains the Doubletalk feature. A once per social encounter chance to reduce the cost of a Stunt and possibly even get a free use of a stunt.

And this time, she gains 7 Health.

Level 5

+1 Constitution (this improves her Health retroactively)

Advance Marked Specialization to Expert and gains the "Spidermark" option to walk on walls. In her case, her left arm is marked to appear as a tree branch with a serpent climbing up it.

The Dexterity (Stealth) focus.

Rolled a 4, so gains 6 Health, plus 4 more due to Constitution improving for a total of 10.

Kaelcia Skyscale - 5th Level Envoy

Origin

Ancestry: Blooded (Gorgon)

Original Background: Laborer (Lower Class)

Current Background: Merchant (Middle Class)

Abilities

Accuracy 2 (Bows)

Communication 4 (Bargaining, Deception, Etiquette)

Constitution 2 (Stamina)

Dexterity 2 (Stealth)

Fighting 0

Intelligence 2 (Cultural Lore)

Perception 2 (Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1

Willpower 2

Traits

Health 54

Defense: 12 (14 with Dazzle)

Speed: 12

Armor Rating: 3 (Light Leather)

Dark Sight: 20 yards

Language: Common, Serpentine, Goblin

Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, and Light Blades

Class Features

Coordinate

Dazzle (+2 Defense)

Social Chameleon

Doubletalk

Stunts

All basic Stunts

Petrifying Gaze (2+ SP)

Reduced cost stunts: Crowd Appeal (1+ SP)

Rouse (5 SP)

Specializations

Expert Marked

Novice Diplomat (Communication (Etiquette) and Intelligence (Cultural Lore))

Marks

Mark of War, snake-tailed woman wielding stowed weapon on her back.

Spidermark, right arm sleeve stylized as a tree branch with a python climbing up it.

Talents

Expert Contacts

Novice Linguistics (Goblin)

Novice Archery

Gear

Light Leather Armor, (AR: 3)

Long Bow, 20 Arrows

Spyglass

Bedroll

Silk Rope

Lantern

Hand Mirror (metal)

8 Silver Pieces

Goals

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

Ties

Ettioc (Goblin Warrior) was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala (Elf Rogue) decided traveling with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram (Halfling Mage) is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

Kaelcia's Levels 6-10

Level 6

This level, her Stunt can be from any Class list.

+1 Communication

She'll pick up the "Evade" stunt from the Rogue list to allow her to move away from attackers.

She'll take the Inspire talent at Novice level.

Intelligence (Evaluation) focus

+1 Defense

Weapon Focus is added to damage

Gains 4 HP

Level 7

+1 Accuracy

Diplomat advances to Expert

Accuracy (Light Blades) focus

Gain 3 HP, she's rolling badly.

Level 8

+1 Willpower

Her stunt will be "And Another Thing" which is an exploration or social stunt that lets her follow up a test with a free action doing something else.

Advance Archery to Expert

Communication (Persuasion) focus

Dexterity (Calligraphy) focus for the free level 8 focus

Stunning Repartee

Gain 6 HP

Level 9

+1 Perception

Marked advances to Master, Warding Mark (Cobra on her throat and chest). Also gains 2 innate armor rating that stacks with worn armor (all Master Marked get that)

Getting the Dexterity (Acrobatics) focus

Gains 8 HP

Level 10

+1 Communication, not planning to do much of this, but making her very charismatic.

"Create Opportunity" is her new stunt, which is another expensive one that can give an ally a free attack.

Advance Linguistics to Expert, gain Sylvan as a language. She can also now imitate specific dialects.

Pick up Willpower (Courage) as a focus

Huh, another 8 HP, the dice are compensating for earlier rolls.

Kaelcia Skyscale - 10th Level Envoy

Origin

Ancestry: Blooded (Gorgon)

Original Background: Laborer (Lower Class)

Current Background: Merchant (Middle Class)

Abilities

Accuracy 3 (Bows, Light Blades))

Communication 5* (Bargaining, Deception, Etiquette, Persuasion)

Constitution 2 (Stamina)

Dexterity 2 (Acrobatics, Calligraphy, Stealth)

Fighting 0

Intelligence 2 (Cultural Lore, Evaluation)

Perception 3 (Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1

Willpower 3 (Courage)

Traits

Health 83

Defense: 13 (15 with Dazzle)

Speed: 12

Armor Rating: 5 (2 Innate + 3 Light Leather)

Dark Sight: 20 yards

Language: Common, Serpentine, Goblin, Sylvan

Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, and Light Blades

Class Features

Coordinate

Dazzle (+2 Defense)

Social Chameleon

Doubletalk

Stunning Repartee

Stunts

All basic Stunts

Crowd Appeal (1+ SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

And Another Thing (2 SP)

Evade (2 SP)

Petrifying Gaze (2+ SP)

Create Opportunity (5 SP)

Rouse (5 SP)

Specializations

Master Marked (+2 innate Armor Rating)

Expert Diplomat (Communication (Etiquette) and Intelligence (Historical Lore))

Marks

Mark of War, snake-tailed woman wielding stowed weapon on her back. (Stow one 2H weapon, two 1H weapon, OR, one 1H weapon and a shield)

Spidermark, right arm sleeve stylized as a tree branch with a python climbing up it. (Climb Walls)

Warding Mark, a rearing cobra defensive but not aggressive, the hood and head are her throat, the rest is over her chest.

Talents

Expert Contacts

Expert Linguistics (Goblin, Sylvan)

Expert Archery

Novice Inspire

Gear

Light Leather Armor, (AR: 3)

Long Bow, 20 Arrows

Spyglass

Bedroll

Silk Rope

Lantern

Hand Mirror (metal)

8 Silver Pieces

Goals

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

Ties

Ettioc (Goblin Warrior) was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala (Elf Rogue) decided traveling with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram (Halfling Mage) is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

Kaelcia's Levels 11-15

Level 11

She stops rolling for Health at this point.

+1 Accuracy

Diplomat Specialization to Master

Double focus Accuracy (Bows) focus

Focuses improve to +3 and can be doubled to get to +4.

+1 Defense

Dazzle improves

+2 Health

Level 12

Her stunt choice this level can be from any list.

+1 Communication

For her Stunt, she takes the Warrior option to reduce a combat stunt's cost and chooses "Pierce Armor"

Archery Talent advances to Master

Take Communication (Seduction), I'm actually imagining this comes from an SO teaching her how to flirt.

Strength (Jumping) as her free level 12 Focus

+2 Health

Level 13

+1 Accuracy

I'm taking the option to advance a Talent. For levels 8-15, when you take this option, you can't take a new talent. You have to advance a Novice talent to Expert. So, I'm advancing the Inspire Talent.

And, a bit late, but Perception (Empathy) as a focus.

+2 Health

Level 14

+1 Intelligence

For the stunt, she is going to reduce the cost of the "Sway" stunt

Taking the Observation talent at Novice level and matching it with Empathy.

Taking the Intelligence (Historical Lore) focus

+2 Health

EDIT: I originally took the Intrigue talent to here but realized that would overlap a bit much with the spy rogue, so have reworked this.

Level 15

+1 Constitution

Improves the Observation talent to Expert instead of a new specialization and matching the second Focus to Seeing.

Taking the Dexterity (Initiative) focus

+17 Health, 3 for this level, +14 for raising Constitution

Kaelcia Skyscale - 15th Level Envoy

Origin

Ancestry: Blooded (Gorgon)

Original Background: Laborer (Lower Class)

Current Background: Merchant (Middle Class)

Abilities

Accuracy 5 (Bows*, Light Blades))

Communication 6 (Bargaining, Deception, Etiquette, Persuasion, Seduction)

Constitution 3 (Stamina)

Dexterity 2 (Acrobatics, Calligraphy, Initiative, Stealth)

Fighting 0

Intelligence 3 (Cultural Lore, Evaluation, Historical Lore)

Perception 3 (Empathy, Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1 (Jumping)

Willpower 3 (Courage)

Traits

Health 108

Defense: 14 (17 with Dazzle)

Speed: 12

Armor Rating: 5 (2 Innate + 3 Light Leather)

Dark Sight: 20 yards

Language: Common, Serpentine, Goblin, Sylvan

Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, and Light Blades

Class Features

Coordinate

Dazzle (+3 Defense)

Social Chameleon

Doubletalk

Stunning Repartee

Stunts

All basic Stunts

Pierce Armor (1 SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

Crowd Appeal (1+ SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

And Another Thing (2 SP)

Evade (2 SP)

Lightning Attack (2 SP) - Reduced by Master Archery

Petrifying Gaze (2+ SP)

Sway (3 SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

Create Opportunity (5 SP)

Rouse (5 SP)

Specializations

Master Marked (+2 innate Armor Rating)

Master Diplomat (Communication (Etiquette) and Intelligence (Cultural Lore))

Marks

Mark of War, snake-tailed woman wielding stowed weapon on her back. (Stow one 2H weapon, two 1H weapon, OR, one 1H weapon and a shield)

Spidermark, right arm sleeve stylized as a tree branch with a python climbing up it. (Climb Walls)

Warding Mark, a rearing cobra defensive but not aggressive, the hood and head are her throat, the rest is over her chest.

Talents

Expert Contacts

Expert Linguistics (Goblin, Sylvan)

Master Archery

Expert Inspire

Expert Observation (Empathy, Seeing)

Gear

Light Leather Armor, (AR: 3)

Long Bow, 20 Arrows

Spyglass

Bedroll

Silk Rope

Lantern

Hand Mirror (metal)

8 Silver Pieces

Goals

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

Ties

Ettioc (Goblin Warrior) was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala (Elf Rogue) decided traveling with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram (Halfling Mage) is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

Kaelcia's Levels 16-20

Level 16

+1 Communication

She's taking the "Encourage" stunt which improves on her Coordinate ability.

Advancing the Contacts talent to Master

Taking Willpower (Self-Discipline) as the focus.

+1 Defense

Stunt die can sometimes add to damage

+3 HP

Level 17

+1 Dexterity

Improving the Inspire talent to Master instead of taking a Specialization. At 16-20, she has to advance Expert talents to Master, when she takes this option, she can't add a new talent or improve a Novice one.

I'm going to take the Strength (Intimidation) focus

+3 HP

Level 18

This level, the stunt can be from any list.

+1 Communication

I'm taking another Warrior option and taking the "Dual Strike" stunt.

I'm advancing Linguistics to Master. She gets Dwarven and Orcish as languages and now speaks Goblin with a native accent.

She's taking the Communication (Investigation) focus.

+3 HP

Level 19

+1 Dexterity

Improving the Observation talent to Master

Adding the Dexterity (Crafting) focus

+3 HP

Level 20

+1 Willpower

She is taking "The Good Word" Envoy stunt

Taking the Oratory talent at Novice

Taking Intelligence (Arcane Lore)

Epic Envoy, I'm choosing Combat stunts because she has a number of expensive Combat stunts and this would make them more reliable to show up. Plus she has ways to increase generated Stunt Points in other cases through her Talents.

+3 HP

Kaelcia Skyscale - 20th Level Envoy

Origin

Ancestry: Blooded (Gorgon)

Original Background: Laborer (Lower Class)

Current Background: Merchant (Middle Class)

Abilities

Accuracy 5 (Bows*, Light Blades))

Communication 7 (Bargaining, Deception, Etiquette, Investigation, Persuasion, Seduction)

Constitution 3 (Stamina)

Dexterity 4 (Acrobatics, Calligraphy, Crafting, Initiative, Stealth)

Fighting 0

Intelligence 3 (Arcane Lore, Cultural Lore, Evaluation, Historical Lore)

Perception 3 (Empathy, Seeing, Smelling)

Strength 1 (Intimidation, Jumping)

Willpower 4 (Courage, Self-Discipline)

Traits

Health 123

Defense: 17 (20 with Dazzle)

Speed: 14

Armor Rating: 5 (2 Innate + 3 Light Leather)

Dark Sight: 20 yards

Language: Common, Serpentine, Goblin (Native), Sylvan, Dwarven, Orcish

Weapon Groups: Bows, Brawling, and Light Blades

Class Features

Coordinate

Dazzle (+3 Defense)

Social Chameleon

Doubletalk

Stunning Repartee

Add Stunt die to damage when Communication is higher than target Willpower

Stunts

All basic Stunts

Pierce Armor (1 SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

Crowd Appeal (1+ SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

Encourage (1+ SP)

And Another Thing (2 SP)

Evade (2 SP)

Lightning Attack (2 SP) - Reduced by Master Archery

Petrifying Gaze (2+ SP)

The Good Word (3 SP)

Ready For Action (3 SP) - Reduced by Master Observation only when using Perception (Empathy) or Perception (Seeing)

Sway (3 SP) - Reduced cost basic Stunt

Dual Strike (4 SP)

Create Opportunity (5 SP)

Rouse (5 SP)

Specializations

Master Marked (+2 innate Armor Rating)

Master Diplomat (Communication (Etiquette) and Intelligence (Cultural Lore))

Marks

Mark of War, snake-tailed woman wielding stowed weapon on her back. (Stow one 2H weapon, two 1H weapon, OR, one 1H weapon and a shield)

Spidermark, right arm sleeve stylized as a tree branch with a python climbing up it. (Climb Walls)

Warding Mark, a rearing cobra defensive but not aggressive, the hood and head are her throat, the rest is over her chest.

Talents

Master Contacts

Master Linguistics (Goblin, Sylvan, Dwarven, Orcish)

Master Archery

Master Inspire

Master Observation (Empathy, Seeing)

Novice Oratory

Gear

Light Leather Armor, (AR: 3)

Long Bow, 20 Arrows

Spyglass

Bedroll

Silk Rope

Lantern

Hand Mirror (metal)

8 Silver Pieces

Goals

Long-Term: Discover would caused some of her people to be corrupted and become terrifying monsters.

Long-Term: Purify herself.

Short-Term: Establish contacts where she travels.

Short-Term: Turn a local profit.

Short-Term: Give back to the people when she can.

Ties

Ettioc (Goblin Warrior) was the patron that originally invested in her and allowed her rise to being a merchant.

Naesala (Elf Rogue) decided traveling with Kaelcia was a great cover.

Wulfram (Halfling Mage) is an arcane historian that she approached about info on the corrupted gorgons.

----------

Okay, so, I don't agree with the complaint that it didn't have enough variety to justify the increased number of Talents and Specializations, but I can see where it's coming from.

I didn't feel like adding any other specialization in here, but that's mostly because I completed the first two before adding a third. That firmed up an image in my head as to what this character was that didn't fit the existing specializations. If I had taken three Specializations to Novice right off the bat, it would have fit in quite easily. I do wish the Sharpshooter specialization had been available, but I can see why they want to keep that with Rogues.

My main complaint is the same complaint I have with most level based games where the later levels always feel a bit anti-climatic and a bit uninteresting. This is a complaint I have with D&D as well. Pathfinder 2e has managed to make interesting, story-completing capstones, but most games that work in this design space fail to reach the proper balance of making the end of a character's story both dramatic and mechanically interesting.

These are powers that a character is only going to use a handful of times, so they need to be exceptional.

In the Envoy's case, the Epic Envoy increasing the number of Stunt points you get in one category of action has the capacity to do that because stunts can do a lot. But this did leave me with picking up a Novice talent at the end. Depending on the end of the story,

Overall, it's fairly interesting and I like the changes from 1st edition so far. Would still like to play the game a bit more.

[ijosijen]

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.

[5kindsofmagic]

Another Brush With The Reaper

[The following is reconstructed from audio logs, neurohelmet scans, black box data from KGC-0000 serial number 9035768 and interviews with the pilot]

Location: [data corrupted], Tortuga Dominion

Date: [data corrupted] April 3022

Next target. Track the movement. clickThoomph the muffled sound of an AC20 in vacuum as a Stinger's side is wrenched apart by the impact. Next target. Track. clickThoomph A Locust goes facefirst into the surface of this airless rock from suddenly missing a leg.

Jordan still hasn't stood back up since that Hunchback got a lucky shot that blew out his Marauder's knee. A lucky shot, on Magpie... they really were going to die here. At least he had quickly returned the favor with this King Crab's left autocannon, detonating the Hunchback's ammo bin in a violent flash. He pushed his teammate's mech into a warehouse and turned to hold the door. The walls would at least block line of sight, even if these pirates could still shoot through if they wanted. Didn't matter. Had to hold the line. Had to buy time for Shandra and Cookie to take over that Scout-class jumpship these pirates were using. Had to keep sending souls to oblivion ahead of him to keep the jaws of the Reaper from clamping down around his throat.

Another Stinger tries to make a jump across the doorway. Track. clickThoomph They needed at least 2 seconds to steady themselves at the end of a jump in this gravity. Plenty of time to line up an autocannon and send a round into their center. He didn't even watch the metal crumple, already checking his sensors for his next target. That Thunderbolt earlier had melted almost all the armor and half his cameras off the head of his assault mech with its large laser, but he would make do.

Another runby, a warning alarm as his mech's right arm is finally torn off by a pack of srms. Fire the left one, then. Destroy the javelin for its impertinence. Redirect the ammo feed to the remaining autocannon. He still had the laser on that side to use. The cockpit is starting to feel like an ocean of boiling blood is rising up to his neck. The shadowy tendrils of oblivion writhing at the edges of his vision, lashing out with each pull of the trigger to snare another soul to feed the reaper looming just behind him.

clickThoomph "Ammo Depleted" No, not NOW. The reaper steps closer to him, hovering just behind his command chair. "Magpie, please get up. I could really use some help here," he calls desperately into the comms, trying to wake his friend. A shadowhawk rounds the corner. He lashes out with the heavy legs of the assault mech that he had only gotten into for the first time today, but was looking more and more like it would be his tomb. The medium's knee snaps, and he quickly follows up with a stomp to the head to finish it.

"Magpie... Jordan, I need you!" Another call to the mechwarrior behind he that he couldn't even turn to check on. What was that on sensors? Oh no, seismic like that had to be an assault. What had they missed? Whatever it was it would not be good, not with his King Crab in this condition. He got his answer as a Stalker crashed through the wall to his left, lasers and srms tearing off the left side of his mech's torso and the arm with it. The jaws of the reaper were open wide now like a great beast. Ivory fangs visible in all 4 corners of his vision now as it prepared to swallow him whole.

A bright spark flashes from the stalker's cockpit and the mech slumps. The suprise of it makes the reaper retreat in bewilderment as a voice crackles over the comms, "Hey Buddy, miss me?" Turning his mech to the left, Jack almost laughs as he sees the Marauder propping itself up on one arm, the barrel of the gauss still appearing to waver from the energy radiating away.

"I hope you still have some ammo left in there." The heat in his cockpit is finally starting to bleed away during this short repreive.

"Nope, that was my last one. Grab one of those steel beams and muzzle load me," comes the mirthful reply. Only Magpie could sound so jovial in a situation like this.

"Magpie, I don't have claws right now. Just prop yourself up on one of those containers and watch your sensors. I don't know how many of them are left, but we have to keep them from reaching that last dropship. Still haven't heard from Shandra if they've captured the jumpship or not."

[end data feed]

[h4unt3d-s0u15]

answer all 30 of them? -your favorite of all time, 🦎

1 - what song makes me feel better

Line Without A Hook along with just. the Beatles Revolver album...

2 - go to comfort show?

i don't really watch tv, but House maybe?

3 - reading or writing?

Can I pick both? I love creating worlds to draw people in, to mess with people, or to simply satisfy my own need, poetrys a good way to get my emotions like jealousy out. but readings fun, disovering new worlds and other peoples stories... i have little time for either nowadays, sadly

4 - whats your favourite feeling?

Manic euphoria, maybe. When im all giggly and lightheaded and happy, when i cant stop smiling and i feel like all is right. otherwise known as when i talk to anyone in your system ♡

could also just be the general sense of contentment, of belonging... that one i only really get at concerts and with certain friends

5 - How do you like to take care of yourself?

I don't really take care of myself. is cooking taking care of myself? I like cooking

6 - favourite candle scent?

Lily of the valley. and did you know I make my own candles? theyre not perfect but i do :)

7 - Who do you feel most like yourself around?

You guys, Krow, angel, and the local scene, especially Ame and Ace and stuff

8 - fabric/texture thats nostalgic to you?

I have this little stuffed bear toy ive had since I was like 3.. the feeling of its fur, probably

9 - best childhood moment?

I used to love hanging out with these two girls, Zoe and Ariel, back in prep I think. It was nice. I haven't seen Ariel in 10 years now. Zoe I still sometimes see walking down to her bus. she was lovely, yknow? Kind and happy.... I can see her energy leaving her... But the old days were fun

10. last time you laughed so hard you cried

. Uhm. we were in spanish class and my friend poked my other friend (friend being poked is like one of those dickhead boys who makes sex jokes and brainrot jokes and drug jokes, idk if u know that kind) and bro sorta just lets out a moan and me and the first friend half collapse laughing-

11 - Do you have a comfort item?

yeah :) a small bat, smaller than my hand, and its wings are like galaxy blue and my sister got it for me for christmas :)

other than that my lighters probably

12 - What calms you down?

music and you guys

13 - bath or shower to relax?

ill just take a shower and sit on the floor lol

14 - whats something upcoming that youre excited for?

Probably the concert im going to. small local thing, shitty bands, but my friends performing. Ame can't come, she has work that she cant cancel if she wants rent. but its okay

15 - comfort food?

I dont like eating. Smokies, though. little sausages wrapped up in pastry and sauce and stuff

sorta like this, i only like the one out local bakery sells though

16 - something you wanna create soon?

Roses out of beads. they take ages though and i have so little motivation....i want to make you guys some... itd be better if we could give them to you yet alas...

17 - how do you feel best loved?

i dont know... i like quality time and talking and hugs and everything... i like watching shows with you all, even if im not much interested in the show itself (except AHS that ones peak i love it sm) anyways i dunno, id like dates some day. cuddles. in general, hugs make me feel loved... hand holding and sharing happiness...

18 - what age in life do you think youll feel most yourself at?

19. when we're old enough to do what we want. when we're old enough to go to bars and drink, at least by our laws. when we're out of highschool and can fuck around.

19 - have you ever written or received a love letter?

written? many. none are sent on, all are deleted. never received one... thatd be cute i think. i think id cry (in a good way)

20 - a memory i hold close to heart

2 years ago my old schools fete. dad tried to strangle me the previous day. i accidentally let it slip to a boy i just met. we sat there. he asked me if i wanted a hug. noone had ever actually asked before. i said yes. he hugged me and it was gentle and caring

school camp last year, before we discovered we were a system and before things fell apart. it was horrid and cold but i hung out with the boys around the campfire and we joked these horrible jokes and it was so fun. we had a trivia and my friends ditched me so i hung out with them. at night i called corwin and id filled my water bottle with hot chocolate. it stayed warm throughout the night and i loved it

april 14th this year. the biggish concert i went to. i met up with ame and followed her like a lost puppy. we hung out with someone id met at the first concert. we talked and teased each other. a guy came over announcing we were gonna bash a dude who did some shitty stuff. we arm wrestled in the car park. we chased him. i felt free. me and ame danced that spinning dance. she let me go on her shoulders. we smoked in our groups and it was amazing

and every conversation we hold with you is close to our heart

many many more

21 -tea, coffee, or hor cocoa?

i like caramel lattes, i make them myself. hot chocolate is also nice, especially when its cold.

22 - name of ur favourite playlist?

its just called Faye! and a dear friend of ours made it for me (fairy). he made one for viscera too. somehow he managed to make them both fit us and be exactly the genres we like.

23 - have you ever received flowers?

Only from my dear cousin Harriet. shes 4. she gave me a handful of these little red flowers she picked when we were at a theme park over the holidays. shes so sweet. she said so i wouldnt miss her...

24 -who is your best friend?

@roomofdamnation

second best is probably the friend who made us playlists

25 - what colour would your soul be

idk if we would even have one

grey. purple. green. red.

26 - if you could live wherever you want with whoever you want

i dont mind where. somewhere with a garden, though. i want a garden. i like flowers and growimg things... with you guys and krow and angel and perhaps this one girl called Ash

27 -do you like a garden? have you grown things?

i love gardens and i love flowers.. ive grown king sized asters, heartsease, phlox, and many more. i hope to one day grow lily of the valley, wisteria, skeleton flowers, and bleeding heart flowers

28 - what are you proudest of?

the spider bracelets i make, perhaps... im not often proud of myself

29 - Are you a kind person?

externally, often yes. internally? only towards those i love, and sometimes not even

30 -what do your hobbies look like?

well, i read, write, draw/paint, steal keys, go to shitty concerts, and bead