#because they are already a different breed than folktales

[laurasimonsdaughter]

What if Disney adapted The White Cat?

It'd look like this:

Although in a lot of the old illustrations for The White Cat, the cat princess is fully clothed in dramatic courtly fashion. So Disney could go full Robin Hood with this and have the prince be the only human at a full anthro cat court.

Silly photoshop aside, I think Madame d'Aulnoy's The White Cat could actually be a great candidate for an animated fairy tale movie, but to make it fully Disney I think I'd shorten it a bit and borrow a pinch of Disney's Aladdin

The ending needs the most changes. The prince will no longer have any brothers to compete with, he's an only child. And instead of a father afraid that his son(s) will steal the throne from him, the kind old king is under the influence of an Evil Advisor who is convincing him that his son is not fit to take the throne. The advisor persuades the king that the prince must prove his worthiness by fulfilling impossible impossible tasks:

To find a dog so small it can jump through a ring.

To find a fabric fine enough to be drawn through the eye of a needle.

And finally, to find a bride wise enough, kind enough and noble enough that her esteem alone would prove his worthiness.

The prince sets out on his first quest and gets hopelessly lost in the woods, stumbling into a magical castle full of talking cats, ruled by a white cat who is addressed by all the others as their princess. She helps him complete the first task and he returns to her for the second one.

Now, to make this more Disney, I will borrow from d'Aulnoy's Beauty and the Beast and let the prince have dreams in which the white cat, who grows fonder of every minute, turns into a human. So they can have a romantic song and dance together before he wakes up with a start.

When the last challenge is given the prince is dejected. He goes back to the white cat and explains he does not want to complete this quest, because he does not want a bride. He wants to stay with her. He begs her to turn him into a cat so he can stay with her. But the white cat tells him she can make sure he can complete the challenge and gain his happiness besides, if only he will do as she says.

Now this is a difficult point in the story to adapt. Because in the original the white cat asks the prince to cut her head off. This is a folklore motif with great pedigree, but a little grisly for Disney. (Not because of the level of violence, but because it's two good characters doing it to each other.) I'm not sure what to replace it with though. The best thing I can think of right now is the cat asking him to throw her into the river, so she can emerge as a beautiful dripping wet princess.

Either way the prince does as she asks and the cat turns into the human woman from his dream. The princess explains that she was cursed by the Evil Advisor (gasp) for refusing to marry him and that the curse could only be broken by someone who trusted her completely. (I am leaving out d'Aulnoy's dramatic fairy backstory, sorry Marie-Catherine, it's great but it's too much.)

Her entire court of cats also transforms back into human courtiers and servants (who still have comical cat-like behaviours) and the prince and princess travel back to the prince's court amidst a glorious procession.

The Evil Advisor is exposed and dealt with (drop him off a convenient cliff, you know the drill), the king comes to his sense, praises his son, consents to the marriage, adores his daugher-in-law, and everyone is sure to live happily ever after.

The prince scratches the princess behind her ear before kissing her at the wedding.

~The End~

[rainintheevening]

For the story asks: 4, 13, 16, 19, and 22 for the last thing you READ and the last thing you WATCHED.

Okay last thing I read was North! Or Be Eaten by Andrew Peterson, the second of the Wingfeather series.

4: assign this story a hyper-specific genre name, e.g. "inspirational religious semi-horror sci-fi western" (yes, that's Trigun)

Comic religious fantasy coming-of-age bedtime story, with names that were definitely suggested by children.

13: tell me an out-of-context piece of worldbuilding or lore!

The Fangs of Dang decompose and turn to dust really quickly after getting killed.

16: do you think this story has broad appeal, or is it meant for a very specific audience? if it's more "niche", what kind of person would most enjoy this story?

Hmmm, well it is the epitome of a read-aloud-to-children story. The names and the creatures and other aspects of the world building sound very childish at first. It is a story written by a Christian for Christian families. I think any children who like stories would love it, but as you get older, reading it for the first time, it becomes more niche. It's best for fairytale minded folks with a goofy side, I think.

19: pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

Well, this is the second of four, so I don't know where it's going yet. Check back with me about this one later.

22: FREE SPACE: say anything you want about the story!! <3

I will want to read this story aloud to my kids someday. As long as it ends well...👀

Okay, last thing I watched was Disney's Mulan (the original animated one), and I really enjoyed it!

4: assign this story a hyper-specific genre name, e.g. "inspirational religious semi-horror sci-fi western" (yes, that's Trigun)

Coming-of-age, war, girl-meets-boy, Chinese folktale

13: tell me an out-of-context piece of worldbuilding or lore!

Ummmm, the design of the different horses is very intentional as they are specific breeds that would have been used by the Chinese people and the Huns.

16: do you think this story has broad appeal, or is it meant for a very specific audience? if it's more "niche", what kind of person would most enjoy this story?

Oh, I think it has very broad appeal. It's a classic folktale, there's so much humor in it, and the songs are bangers. Well, except for that credits song; 'Loyal Brave True' is SO much better.

19: pitch an idea for a sequel or spinoff novel for this story!

Why do I keep finding my mind blank for this question? Not to mention this also has a sequel already. WAIT. DOES MY KNOCK-OFF MULAN STORY COUNT??? This is inspired by, but definitely different from Mulan. It starts with a girl, disguising herself as a boy and going off to fight, but the reader doesn't know what name she takes as a boy, and the body of the story is told by an actual boy, so it's a bit of a game trying to figure out which of the soldiers around the POV character is the girl. Especially because there's more than one character with something to hide...

It would be about friendship, the cost of war, bravery, how both skill and hard work are good things, loyalty, and even a little dash of romance.

I guess that's a spinoff?

22: FREE SPACE: say anything you want about the story!! <3

I did not expect to laugh so much. I love the LA one, primarily for the gorgeous settings, and the fight scenes, but it's much more serious, much more about the drama and intensity. It's an action flick. But the animated one is so freaking HILARIOUS. I laughed until I cried more than once. It was fantastic like that. Also makes me REALLY want to rewatch the LA one. I love that they're different enough so I can easily love both at the same time.

[zinaidas]

HER EYES, HER LARGE DARK EYES, WERE AMBIGUOUS — 

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: zinaida petrovna sabitova

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄: the sacred

𝐀𝐆𝐄: twenty-five

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: principal dancer at the bolshoi ballet

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓: here.

—a delicate nose tucked into a fur collar, the flashing of camera bulbs white-cold and relentless as the snow, perfume no one can identify, a knife hanging from the ceiling; thread fraying, the slow undoing of a velvet bow, walking into the sea in an evening dress, the bargains made in folktales, smiling without showing teeth, heat from a spotlight, a striking figure in a black dress, blood in pointe shoes, unopened gifts, kissing a cold statue, balancing atop the balcony railing, straining muscles, lying naked atop the bedspread, a rose pushed to bowing under the weight of snowdrift, a crown that mysteriously fits, swans on the morning lake, lipstick stains, pulling death from the tarot deck, the gaze of a room sweeping in one direction, a glass throne, flowers being thrown on stage, grainy black and white footage of far-away figures, the cold draft through a window purposefully left open, the scent of perfume lingering in an empty room, perfect posture, the shot that puts down a lame horse.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 & 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 !

trigger warnings for: implied sex work, sexual assault, drowning, suicide, & attempted suicide.

𝘏𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 !

i swear this is abbreviated compared to her app... i swear...

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈: 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒.

she’s raised by her mother in an apartment with red walls, a colour she remembers not as blood-red or rose-red but heart-red. her mother is beautiful in the way no single individual should be and charming in a way that borders on symptomatic of terror. as a woman she excels, captivating hearts around her without intention and outright pilfering those she aims for, but as a mother she knows little. it is never a secret to little zinaida that she was an unplanned child — the absence of a father is evidence enough.

her childhood is blurred and full of a great deal of whirring colour; the red walls, the churning silhouettes cast by light of a candle, the twirl of her mother’s skirt before she leaves for the night. girlhood is always full of this motion and little stillness — the solid, rectangular parts of life such as school and full meals are of little importance to zinaida’s mother, and sometimes forgotten altogether. she learns to be a quiet, undisruptive girl who does not whine when her stomach grumbles or the scent of smoke stains her clothes; she is educated on the value of trading rations for pure silk stockings when the war comes in place of the missed lessons. there is no time beauty is required more, mother says, than in duress. always, it prevails.

at night she sits on the edge of mother’s bed and watches as she applies makeup at the vanity, setting her face with rouge and powder in flaking gilt packages. it’s like magic those hours, watching her mother transform into a proud creature even more beautiful and untouchable than the one in the beginning, and how it is that extraordinary demi-being that returns home with beautiful trinkets or thick handfuls of paper bills. each morning she comes home, until the one she does not.

the man in the dark suit arrives at her front door and tells little zinaida, whose height only reaches his hip, one thing she knows to be a half-truth and one thing that she does not know of at all: that her mother is a prostitute, and a traitor to the soviet union. these things are explained to her as both independent facts and contingent clauses, like the two angular pieces of a door hinge.

her mother is accused, she is told, of blackmailing one of the state council. young zinaida blinks, still gripping the doorknob. it is not news to her that her mother associates with rich and powerful men, but it is news to hear that this is a crime. blackmailing? she asks. yes, he says. it means to threaten with a piece of information. only, in this case, the information is false. she is lying, and she has been arrested. oh. the girl says. it seems very odd to her that her mother, who so often lessoned zinaida on the truths of the world as she saw them (for instance, that men were only afraid of the two things they could not control: beauty, and death), would be caught lying. what is the information? the man looks down at her from under his hat. it begins to rain behind him. you. she says you are his daughter. everyone has a father. she answers. why is this so bad? for the first time, the stranger in the doorway looks uncomfortable, lifting a hand to scratch the midday shadow along his jaw. she claims it is by force.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄.

driven out from stalingrad into the surrounding country by the man in the dark hat, zinaida is taken to an estate with wrought iron gate, overrun with weeds and the sensation of time passed and left embittered for it. there she finds a half-dozen other girls, all bastards of important and high-sat men. she and the other girls call it the birdcage: for their imposed home gleamed like one, and because it housed a half-dozen little sparrows of young women, each of them trapped, fluttering at windows, waiting to get out and touch the world.

despite its size, the estate has few staff, and those who do cook and clean within the walls keep their silence like a photograph tucked in their pocket. uncle vanya, as they are told to call him, is the only one who speaks to the girls — though his speech is always stunted and harsh as a candle burned halfway down. he stands as both the head of household and, as zinaida would learn, the ballet master. dance, he says, is how they will occupy their days — ballet the medium which would instill discipline and self-control into their lives, things they will then carry into life as young women released back into the city.

the war feels so distant in the countryside, wrapped as they are in their strange, repetitious daily life. dance occupies both the time & intention of each day; if they are not practicing they are stretching, and if they are not stretching all that there is schoolwork, sleep, or chores.

zinaida, tall for her age and with a body made lean by intermittent poverty, is objectively made for the stage in ways she has no control over — but her skill, too, is preternatural. already accustomed to suffering, she has no wide eyes when uncle vanya chastises her, nor wobbling lip when her pointe shoes graft sections of skin from her toes and heels. she merely persists. more than that, she begins to exist. she has found what her mother told her about all that time ago: a beauty that survives even dread. even the end of the world.

her skill over the others — and perhaps even moreso, her desire to dance — is quickly noticed by the uncle and the girls both. her peers grow cold, irritated by what makes her different — what makes her special in a world where all must be communal. uncle vanya, however, pays closer attention. after dinner on her eighth birthday, he bends to one knee and looks zinaida in the eye, one hand on her shoulder. you can go to leningrad to dance, if you wish. they will teach you, and I can arrange it. will you go? she, with her raven-hair and bright, solemn little eyes looks back with a very simple answer: what else would I do?

( and she thinks, she thinks: if only i am good enough, perhaps they will take me to mother again. perhaps i will not be alone. )

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃.

she comes of age in the breeding grounds of race and rivalry. zinaida is found, as uncle vanya has expected, a prodigal dancer with bodily proportions meant for the stage. her peers resent or flock to her, hoping to find a queen to please or a star to hitch to. so long without true companions, she is desperate for the affection of those around her — for friends, for lovers — but the demand of ballet, the pull of a future with the bolshoi, usurps the ability to make connection. still, she dreams. she imagines loving every individual who shows her kindness.

innessa anisimova is another vaganova pupil with great promise, and perhaps zinaida’s singular dearest friend. both seventeen and dark-haired, they are often mistaken for sisters, and take their places next to one another at the barre. though the academy and its tutors were brutal to all who entered, innessa is picked on by the school’s faculty, often critiqued by comparison to zinaida. they accuse her of having a leaden body, criticizing her footwork by saying it looked as though she had bricks tied to her feet. the stress of the training coupled with increasingly personal attacks, innessa’s mental health suffers until reaching a point of no return. on a cold november night, innessa looks to the verbal attacks of her instructors and takes her own life, lashing cinderblocks to her shoes and jumping into the nearby lake.

several months later, zinaida makes an attempt on her own life before a handful of instructors in a fit of mania. the knife is wrenched from her hand, but the motion leaves a 2-inch scar across her delicate neck. zinaida is given a brief reprieve from lessons, and the academy, unwilling to release their star, covers up the incident. still, rumours persist.

at eighteen, after graduation from vaganova and weeks prior to her debut with the bolshoi, zinaida goes the ‘60s version of viral after her measurements are taken in several national newspapers, put out as proof that she has the “perfect” ballet body printed along with interviews & articles. the image of her at 18, extended in fourth position while a journalist holds a measuring tape down her leg, along with subsequent video footage, has been widely circulated.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖.

her debut is remarkable, her place as a celebrated figure quickly evolving into celebrity as she rises from the corpse to soloist and principal in a thin handful of years, two meteoric ascents. but the fame is not wholly naturally: instead, it is in part carefully cultivated. having sought an effigy for the general populace to rally behind and support — a face more personal than authority figures, and less frivolous than america’s movie stars — the soviet government decide on zinaida. she, with her generation-defining talent, exemplified a human excellence that could be strained into a narrative of natural soviet supremacy — a thing so potent, they want you to believe, that it manifested in the body itself.

she attends high profile events; she’s dressed in foreign clothes; her personal life is gossip; she’s seen on the arms of extremely important men. the glamour is muted but still there, meant to showcase what any soviet could attain through hard work and excellence; she is a celebrity, but of a different kind. much like her skeleton title, her reputation is carefully cultivated to be exactly that — sacred. the brand of her image is one meant to mark a certain exclusivity, a sanctity that cannot be broached by things unworthy. her absences are as important as her attendances, as it’s within these blank spaces that the general public can imagine what the government desires them to: that she resists parties for practice, dismisses romance for work. of all she has, all that zinaida knows as earned in truth is her position at the bolshoi — but even this remains at the discretion of the soviet government, as everything in her life does.

𝘙𝘜𝘔𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘚 & 𝘗𝘜𝘉𝘓𝘐𝘊 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 !

... ONLY ATTENDS EVENTS FOR A LARGE APPEARANCE FEE / half-true. she occasionally receives payment through the government for attending events they dictate to her, but she doesn’t have much of a choice anyway lol.

... WAS ENGAGED TO A YOUNG COUNCIL MEMBER, HAVING BEEN WON OVER BY HIS PURSUIT: ATTENDING EVERY SHOW OF THE 1960 SEASON / false. the councilman did attend every show, but the romance (and subsequent rumour) was contrived. this was largely done to unite a “people’s” figure with one of authority. zinaida and artyom mikhailov would have a brief and genuine relationship during this time, but it ended prematurely.

... WILL BE NAMED PRIMA BALLERINA AT THE END OF THE SEASON / ?? it’s considered an ill-kept secret and all-but-verified fact by the public, but we’ll see.

... CAUSED THE OVERSEERS OF HER VAGANOVA AUDITION TO CRY WITH HER PERFORMANCE / false. similar things have been said of her bolshoi audition, but it’s untrue.

... IS RELATED TO XYZ. / who knows. not zinaida. there are a handful of random rumours as to her parentage, but largely this is due to the fact that her life before vaganova is unknown. unwilling to have their figurehead linked to a scandalous birth or mother, the soviet gov has scrubbed and hid her records.

𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘝𝘐𝘈 !

to hide the scar on her neck, zinaida constantly wears necklaces and scarves - she’s known for wearing a black velvet choker even during rehearsals.

knows how to read palms and tarot cards by heart, skills remembered from her childhood with an unusual mother who came from a crooked house in the black woods. zin carries that little bit of witchiness quietly with her, between occasional occult practices and the mental ritualizing of her modern habits. superstitious, though she doesn’t like to show it.

frequently after performances, zinaida rushes from the fallen curtain to her dressing room, not stopping to speak to cast or crew. this likely incurs opinions of snobbish or diva behaviour, but it’s emotion rather than apathy that has her take to the private room. the emotions of a role, when not allowed to move and expel through performance, tend to overwhelm her once she stills -- leading to tears, tremors, and other vulnerabilities she doesn’t wish her peers to see.

the media and general populace have several nicknames for her, most prevalently the jewel of moscow (stalingrad? idk) and the tsarina (graduated from the tsarevna, her pre-principal nickname).

obsessive over preventative beauty and bodily measures -- even moreso than the average ballerina. there are lengthy morning and nighttime routines for both, with everything from face creams/serums to stretching, and the ritual of it soothes her.

she has no idea who her father is, but frequently thinks about the fact that any of the old men in authority she poses with for the papers could be Him. her patronymic was assigned to her before debut.

terrified of her own mortality, and subsequently dislikes being around the elderly.

contrary to what was told to her so many years ago, her mother was never arrested for attempting to blackmail a politician. she was, conversely, offered a large sum of money to send her illegitimate child to the estate in the country. though i’m still working through how she discovered this, zinaida is aware of at least part of this truth by now. 

has the awfully fatalistic habit of practicing choreography and positions on the edge of a high building, particularly when overcome with guilt, anger, or melancholy. to her, this is a resolute test -- either she is strong and agile enough to uphold herself, to balance with utter perfection, or she is not. and if she is not -- is life not ruined regardless?

applauded for the depth and intensity of her characterizations on stage and the ability to embody a role, removing the audience’s view from one of technical steps to that of a character and a story. her talent, generally speaking, is considered a once-in-a-generation -- along the lines of the anna pavlovas and margot fonteyns; a name that goes down in both russian and ballet history. 

𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 !

tbd. i just need to post this already gdi.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

HPHM Patronus Headcanons

We all have one, and we all have ideas for what the characters would have. Let me know what you guys think too! Rakepick isn’t listed because we already know her Patronus, and I’m probably going to talk about OCs in a different post, or else I’ll add them later once I’ve finally made up my mind.

Rowan Khanna - Aardvark

I’m not the only one who sees it, right? Our wonderful Rowan is quirky and inventive and if they were a wild animal, they’d employ such brilliance and like the aardvark, devise a unique way to catch their food. On a more somber note, Aardvarks are nocturnal and they aren’t pack animals - making them a good symbol for a kid who preferred to stay inside and read rather than help with the farm, a kid who really didn’t have that many friends beyond the people they knew by association to MC. Still, aardvarks are weirdly adorable and if you tell me you wouldn’t pet one, you would be a liar.

Ben Copper - Field Mouse

A small creature that is able and hide very easily, definitely suits a character who was, for such a long time, very timid. A character who knew how to cover his tracks - whether or not he was using such abilities for shady reasons. Mice normally symbolize innocence and modesty, but they’ve also been seen as unlucky before. In more traditional times they were seen as symbols of dark magic, or even the underworld - since they could often carry disease, were hard to capture, and usually came from the ground. Mice do have that dark side, and so does Ben - we’ve seen it in Year Six, and he’s definitely still hiding something. That was never really resolved. 

Penny Haywood - Mourning Dove

This one is pretty easy. Doves have always been seen as a fundamental symbol of innocence. A messenger that comes to banish worried or troubled thoughts, and usher in goodness in their wake. Penny is nothing if not a force for good. Characters like Merula have even lamp-shaded how irritating it is. However, the Mourning Dove in particular is known for it’s melancholy call, invoking the symbolism of losing a loved one. Between Scarlett and Beatrice, Penny has demonstrated that however helpful she is to her friends, she doesn’t know how to deal with her own serious problems. She’s a hopeful, caring person...but there’s a distinct sadness blended in as well. When someone innocent is hurt, the pain is that much worse for them. 

Beatrice Haywood - Chameleon

Beatrice seems to be a person that absorbs a lot from the people she looks up to or associates with. Not just in personality, but in physical appearance too. In Year Five, by her own admission, she was a “Mini Penny” and in Year Six, she takes after Ismelda quite a bit. Chameleons are of course, known for their ability to blend in with their surroundings. It’s their claim to fame. What’s more, the Labord’s Chameleon hatches after the parents have already died, meaning they have to make it without any support from the grownups. Not that Beatrice doesn’t have support, but...the teachers/staff have failed to protect her in the past, and she’s well aware of that. 

Merula Snyde - Cat

Oh, she is such a cat. Few characters come close to being as cat-like as Merula. From her haughty and arrogant nature tying in to how people often see felines, to her actually being very lonely and desperate for love. If you’ve never had a cat, then believe me, they want your attention - it’s just that most of the time they refuse to admit it. Merula is the same way. Because of her upbringing, she seems to gravitate toward being a predator animal, or at least wanting to be one. But also the kind of predator that would play with it’s food and make a game out of it. Think of it this way - given Merula’s background, she wouldn’t know what a laser pointer is. And with her stand-offish personality, she would totally try to investigate it like a little cat. 

Bill Weasley - Koala

The Koala Totem is said to symbolize a gentle nature, and give a calming effect on people. Bill isn’t just the oldest brother to all the Weasleys - he looks out for everyone in the Cursed Vault gang. In general, Koalas are social and easy-going animals who have been known to represent kindness and family. They’re also known for being inactive - which I wouldn’t say that Bill is, but despite his Big-Bro energy, he never really tries to stop MC and their friends when they’re getting into mischief. He didn’t stop Harry from trying to make a deal with Griphook either. He just kinda lets people do their own thing most of the time, or comes along if he’s invited.

Charlie Weasley - Dragon

What can I say? I couldn’t resist. Sure, it may be unlikely that he would actually have a Dragon for a Patronus, but we do know that such a form is possible. Just very rare. Well you know what? This wonderful cinnamon roll has earned it. Doesn’t mean he would summon a full-grown dragon on his first attempt though.There’s a head-canon I’ve seen that I really like, which says that Animagus/Patronus forms can sometimes start as babies, and “grow” the better at them you get. Alternatively, his Patronus could literally just be a baby dragon. As for the breed, I’ll leave that open to interpretation, but I’m gonna say Norwegian Ridgeback. 

Skye Parkin - Hyena

Frequently scavengers, and often seen as cowardly - Hyenas are still vicious and are typically able to claim the kill. Sometimes even driving off larger predators and stealing their hard earned prey. Which is exactly the kind of dishonorable thing Skye would do. She seems to believe strongly in her “pack” or her team, and depend on them to have her back even when she’s getting into nonsense. Traditionally, the Hyena is also seen as secular, with it’s constant laugh being an act of defiance. Skye is a cheerful person most of the time...but she has shown that she has little regard for rules or authority figures that are not her Dad. 

Murphy Mcnully - Bottle-nose Dolphin

Dolphins are interesting. They have a reputation for being very sweet and excitable, but they can often be...shall we say, rude or invasive. I love Murphy to bits, but he doesn’t always know how to read a room, and he’s entirely open about his bias toward MC’s team - even more-so than Lee Jordan. That being said, Dolphins are social, playful, and intelligent creatures. With unusual abilities like echolocation, they certainly match Murphy in his quirky brilliance. They’re caring, helpful creatures that will actually aid other animals in need, including humans. Even though Murphy isn’t actually a player on MC’s Quidditch team, he might as well be. 

Orion Amari - Elephant

Orion is such a wonderful character. He might be an oddball, but he’s truly wise beyond his years. Elephants not only represent wisdom, but have been known to symbolize loyalty, sensitivity, peace, stability...all the great qualities that Orion embodies. They’re known for taking care of the herd, just as Orion looks after his team. They might be a little quirky, with their large ears and trunks that most other animals don’t have...but Orion is quirky as well. Some say that with their trunks down, Elephants are accumulating positive energy to push through their trials, which takes me back to the scene where Orion gives MC Quidditch robes. I cry every time.

Erika Rath - Lion

To be clear, a male lion. I know that a lioness can be interpreted differently, and we already have a character with that Patronus. No, Erika is a pack leader. Even if she’s not the Captain of her team, they seem to depend very heavily on her. She’s also ferocious. I mean, tell me with a straight face that you could take her in a fight, or that you’d ever want to. A full grown male lion lives by the code that ass-kicking equals authority, even if they don’t want to. Furthermore, the Lion and the Hyena tend to be natural enemies. Sure, a lion could take a hyena in a one-on-one fight...but what if the Hyena had it’s pack for backup? We’ve all seen Lion King...and we’ve seen how Skye has targeted Erika.

Barnaby Lee - Brown Bear

Barnaby is a man of brawn, not brain, and that’s totally fine because is also a man of heart. He’s already pretty much a bear in human form. Ranging from sweet and dopey in modern media, like Winnie the Pooh, to being seen as warriors and symbols of courage in mythology- the Brown Bear captures all of the very best parts of our favorite Slytherin cinnamon roll. He’s a gentle giant, but as we see in Year Three, he’ll jump into action to protect those he cares about the same way coming near a mama bear’s cubs will act as her berserk button. I would say the Bear really symbolizes his character arc in Year Three. 

Andre Egwu - Satin Bowerbird

This is still my favorite head-canon about Andre and you can pry it from my cold dead hands. The bowerbird, aside from being a bird and thus connecting to Quidditch - is a creature named for the “Bower” that the males build. A structure that can be made of anything from sticks to flowers to random human garbage, that they create specifically to show off to potential mates. It’s not a nest, and they don’t use it as one. It’s exclusively for mating. The Bowerbird has a sense of fashion, and it understands how to score a date. Tell me this isn’t Andre’s favorite animal. I mean it could also be the Peacock, but that’s just too obvious. 

Tulip Karasu - Jackal

I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, but this animal is perfect for the rebellious Ravenclaw. Let’s start with the fact that in the bible, Jackals represent isolation, loneliness, and abandonment. It’s okay Tulip, I’m sure she’ll forgive you one day. Then there’s the fact that they howl to establish territory, not unlike the way Tulip guards her findings with little padlocks. They’re usually seen as opportunistic, to the point where calling someone a jackal tends to them being collaborator with a sneaky or mischievous agenda. In folktales, they’re depicted as intelligent and cunning pranksters - which is just checkmate, if you ask me. Even the Jackal’s coloring kinda suits her.

Ismelda Murk - Anaconda

Like the Snake, and the Hogwarts House that carries it as an emblem, Ismelda is a misunderstood person - but that doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. Much like how there are stories of Anacondas eating people, that have never been verified...Ismelda talks a big game, but has never actually used the Dark Arts. A snake sheds it’s skin, just as Ismelda seems to have shed any connection to her sister, or even the rest of her family. In particular, the Anaconda is actually beloved by cultures in South America, and it was once common to sacrifice one in the name of a happy marriage...of course, that’s a pretty raw deal for the Anaconda, and I can’t help but see Ismelda as a sacrifice for the sake of her sister.

Liz Tuttle - Tortoise

As fun as it might have been to just choose a lizard and be done with it, I think a Tortoise represents Liz far better. In so many ways, it’s the ultimate symbol of patience, endurance, and persistence. If Ismelda meets all the criteria of the Slytherin stereotype - Liz is the opposite. She’s one of the most resilient characters, having to work against people thinking she’s odd, people not trusting her because she’s in Slytherin, and people generally being at odds with her belief that all creatures deserve protection. It’s not only the Hufflepuffs that care for magical critters, and Liz proves that. The Tortoise represents her decency, and her steadfast attitude. What’s more, Tortoises tend to have very long lifespans. And if Liz can face off against chimeras and come out of it unscathed...she’s gonna live a long, long life.

Talbott Winger - Golden Eagle

I doubt I need to explain this one. In the past, Animagi have been show to transform into the same animal as their Patronus. It hasn’t been confirmed that this is a rule or anything, but it applied to James and McGonagall. Besides, an eagle just suits Talbott. He’s a dreamer, a drifter, and he’s got his head in the clouds. But he also knows how to fight - having been forced to leave the nest far too early. Birds of prey generally represent victory, courage, and overcoming adversity. Which Talbott does - he’s learning to let his walls down. Taking the first steps toward accepting the losses that he’s suffered, and moving on.

Chiara Lobosca - Labrador

Supposedly cats, dogs, and birds are the most common animals to have as a Patronus. Which makes sense, but if anyone out there was truly a dog, it would be Chiara. Between her self-sacrificing loyalty to Remus, to her protective instincts in shielding MC from Greyback, she is the physical embodiment of the “we don’t deserve dogs” sentiment. As sweet as she is, she’s also quiet, so I figured a large dog was more appropriate, especially a Lab. What’s more, she’s interested in Healing, and that reminds me of service dogs. Or even just dogs that can sense when their human is sick, and gives them therapeutic cuddles.

Jae Kim - Raccoon

An inventive, practical animal - the Raccoon is known for having paws with defined fingers that allow them to do most things with their “hands” and that’s actually where the word “raccoon” comes from. I feel like the Racoon’s elusive ways and their nature as scavengers pretty closely reflects Jae and his business. Raccoons are frequently associated with adaptability and illusion. Their ringed tails and masked faces being seen as signs of thievery. But you know what? These animals are far more friendly then media would have you assume. I know from personal experience. So I think a character like Jae who is shady and skirts the law, but is ultimately a good guy, would fit the raccoon well.

Badeea Ali - Owl

Despite the magical community’s affinity for them, Owls are said to be highly rare as Patronuses, according to Pottermore. Most people don’t have them, but I think she would. I don’t think it would suit anyone better than the elusive, creative Badeea. They tend to represent wisdom, good judgment, and knowledge. It’s sharp vision representing insight and observational skills. Only a truly clever witch could be a spell inventor at this age. What’s more, Owls are an integral part of the Wizarding lifestyle. They’re constantly helpful. MC would not have survived the nightmare that was the Peeves Chapters in Year Five if not for their most mystical friend. 

Diego Caplan - Grebe

If you know anything about Grebes as birds, then you might not be too surprised. Then again, I hadn’t even heard of them until recently, but when I did I thought “Diego.” They’re waterfowls that are related to flamingos. But the Grebes have an entire ceremony dedicated to mating, which involves intricate dancing. They compete with each other for a female’s attention. I’m not saying Diego is jealous of Cedric cause he has a thing for Penny - all I’m saying is that Diego is jealous of Cedric because he has a thing for Penny. Beyond that, Grebes symbolize fearlessness and perseverance in Native American culture, supposedly bringing a calm, peaceful presence. 

And that’s it! I did it, I actually did it! I didn’t think I’d make it this far. And if you did as well, thanks for checking it out. I’d love to know what you think!

[nsfsprince]

..... Omegaverse au where werewolves exist but still lay low as supernatural beings that most believe are just folktale legends/myths bc theres not enough known sightings/science about the rare individuals able to fully embody their inner alpha/beta/omega to a transformation extent. They absolutely exist, but to avoid becoming popular spectacles paraded around in the media coming out publicly is usually avoided at all costs.

(A whole ramble below the cut, including spicy scenes written out near the end after a lil story context~

mentions of a/b/o, omega!Janus(with AFAB terms used bc he trans babey!) And Alpha!Werewolf!Virgil, size difference, size kink, breeding kink, and eventual consensual impreg at the very end)

oh and tagging @softdomxiety bc u seemed interested if i went anywhere w/ this?

Virgil is a lone wolf who was raised by his now late parents who passed down the ability to fully 'shift' and taught him how to use and control it and himself. Some people view werewolves as these lawless, unhinged beasts that are barely human when shifted(which, obviously wrong) and there are people who obviously believe that that's bullshit and if werewolves *did* exist they'd still be people too?? Duh?? And a select few who, further still, defend the concept entirely and have made it there lifes work to discover their existence. These few are often written off as crazy and are usually the outcasts of their town.(I'm imagining this is set back in time just enough that science cant prove or disprove the existance of werewolves and there's alot less of humanity overall to where most wereolves are able to live in peace on the outskirts of towns and often reside comfortable in farmer/hunting roles for small towns?

Janus is an omega human with no werewolf traits(to his knowledge), but he is one of those few that believes in werewolf shifters and would be considered a werewolf-sympathizer if he ever opened his mouth about it. Rumor has it that his father kicked him out of the house at a young age after burning half the side of his face with fire in an attempt to 'burn the devil out of him for believing in such things and disrespecting his parentage with furthering these lies and making himself un-marriable with this level of blasphemy' or something to that affect. His parents definately overdid it and were already abusive as all hell and barely saw Janus as a person himself so it really wasnt nearly as surprising as it ahouldve been. Unfortunately(or perhaps fortunately?) in their small little town, this whole event makes him into a social pariah.

In Jan's opinion, it's easier to be avoided and shunned than crowded around and screamed at, so it works out.

Eventually he escapes and moves towns once he hits the age of being married off, going states away and into a far more secluded place on the outskirts of a more open and bustling town, planning on keeping his life quiet and peaceful and alone whilst surrounded by far nicer people. He knows how to talk and chatter his way around people, knows how to see through intentions and is extremely quick-witted and sharper than anyone knows how to interact or really expects from this tiny angry and scarred omega(even though in hindsight, it makes sense.)

Turns out Janus moved into a cottage not too far off from Virgil's territory and own home, and they end up seeing eachother as neighbors. Seeing as Virgil is an Alpha, and scents as a very strange, very strong alpha at that, Janus is immediately a little wary of the guy. Virgil himself is also wary, bc this sharp omega looks like hes been through hell and back, and obviously lives alone, and the last thing Virgil needs is more curious townspeople snooping around their territories to meet and try and 'befriend'(see:harass) the pretty new omega in town only to constantly catch wind of a wolf nearby.

And they absolutely get off to a rocky start, because Janus refuses help even though hes never done garden work in his life and is literally only relying on books to tell him what to do and how, and hes not particularly fond of it but the less he needs to go into town, the better. Janus has no issues snipping at Virgil when he feels the other is overstepping and overlooking his efforts, and Virgil has no problem telling it how he sees it, not sugarcoating it even if Janus is an omega bc he figures Janus has had enough of people treating him like a helpless fragile baby when hes obviously trying to make it on his own-Virgil just steps in when Janus is actively in danger of hurting/poisoning himself. It becomes a weird back-and-forth acquaintanceship-turned-friendship as Janus settles a little more into himself and this new lifestyle and Virgil settles a little the longer this omega remains overall non-hostile/malicious and becomes more and more familiar. They bicker and sass eachother plenty, but overtime it softens and edges into a fondness for eachother, however both are prideful and have their own secrets to keep, so neither exactly know if confessing their feelings would ruin this tentative peace and comfortable friendship that theyve never really had before??

How does it all come out, I wonder? Does Virgil eventually confess his secret after Janus confesses his love? Or, and hear me out, one early-winter afternoon before the first snow Janus finds himself caught out in the cold, gathering a bit more firewood before nightfall, just to be safe, and stumbling upon a trap hidden under the brush, the kind that slips tight around your ankle and pulls it up at an awkward angle. It's Agony. The pain of one leg being knocked out from under him, the force of gravity as everything flips and his weight pulls painfully on his trapped ankle as body hits the icy ground, hard.

In the confusion, the axe Janus had held had gone flying out of his grip, landing far out of reach near his half chopped pile of wood, and the wind knocked squarely out of his chest. Swearing up and down as he struggles to get himself free, he takes a moment to assess his options. Whatever animal this trap was meant for had been large for how high up his body was being held, and likely strong because the cord digging into his skin felt like it was made of sharp icy steel. It was actually making him bleed the more he struggled, which was not good. It was cold, and he hadnt told Virgil he was planning to make an extra log run(even though he knew he had permission from Virgil so longer as they worked together to replant the trees they used each winter in the following spring), it'd been an impulsive decision-something janus wasnt really known for, which meant he was stuck outside in the winter, in a trap that was actively wounding him and stuck strung upside-down enough that only his head could brush the ground, he couldnt reach his axe even if he tried, and he didnt have the upper body strength to free his ankle even if he had remembered to bring his pocket knife(which, he hadnt), and with every minute that passed Janus was only bound to get colder and colder as the wind ripped through him. His only blessing was that it hadn't really started snowing yet for the season, so he did the only thing he could think of, started screaming for help. If he was miraculously lucky, someone would hear his cries through the wind and come running, but chances were slim when it was only Janus and Virgil out this far in the woods, and Virgil, he knew, had left on a hunting trip not two days earlier.

At worst, Janus could hope that the cold would kill him before the blood rushing to his head would. At best, maybe a predator not yet settled for hibernation would hear his cries and come put him out of his trapped misery.

Though, he really started rethinking that latter theory, maybe a few hours later(?), when a massive hulking grey-black wolf eventually came into view. Combined with the dizzy headrush and hypothermic brainfog, he wouldnt really be able to tell just how large it was, but it certainly was plently large enough to rip Janus limb from limb if it wanted.

There was a flurry of movement and then Janus found himself crashing to the ground, free. Blinking his eyes open, he saw deep grey eyes staring down into his, and was struxk with the odd image of the wolf holding the axe in it's mouth.

.....Had he died already?

In the next moment, Janus world would go black, and he would lose consciousness as his body finally gave into exhaustion. There was maybe a brief moment of consciousness where Janus thought he was draped along thhe wolf's back, which had to have been impossible because wolves weren't quite strong enough to do that. ...right? And?? How?? But the nonsense of it all wouldnt set in as he drifted back into the dark of unconciousness.

When he woke up again, hours later, he was in Virgils house, on a couch infront of the fireplace wrapped up in layers of warm blankets, his foot and ankle bandaged and wrapped carefully, socked and warm. And, notibly, wearing Virgils signature jacket over some oversized thermals instead of the clothes Janus had been wearing originally.

For the next day and a half, Virgil would fuss and motherhen over Janus, clearly upset with the other's predicament and clearly shaken up after apparently having found Janus half conscious and half frozen and wounded from a trap designed to maim werewolves. It wasn't the kind of fretting Janus was used to, it wasnt 'you're a fragile omega, what were you thinking??' It was 'you are my friend and i love you and you nearly died, no way in hell are you lifting a finger until I'm assured of your eventual full recovery going well'

Which, it takes a bit, but Janus does eventually piece together the full pixture, of the massive wolf and Virgil being the one to find Janus trapped, the inital strangely strong scent of the forest that Virgil had always carried with him before Janus got familiar with it, able to detect bits and pieces of virgils actual scent underneathe, and the way that wolf's scent had matched virgils, but was amplified in a way that it would not be hidden by the cover of the forest. It had been overwhelming at the time, having likely scented Virgil's panic at the time, but it had clicked. Virgil still seemed panicked, there was an underlying nervousness that he carried in stance and scent even though he seemed desprate to hold and comfort and protect Janus, but felt like he couldnt, like Janus would scorn him if he did? There was no way Janus didnt remember the wolf, not after he'd asked about how a wolf couldve carried him here, how it wasn't there anymore, where'd it go? And virgil, bless his heart, has always been a bit of a terrible liar to those he lets close.

And Janus could only really find himself feeling relief.

And that relief allowed him to cup Virgils face with his bare hands, gaze into his dark grey eyes, and gently tell him the truth of his burns, of his curiosity and belief in werewolves and their equal rights as people, and the abuse and violence he was put through and made to endure for years because he dared voice it once. And so how even now, he still believed in them, and that if Virgil happened to be one, he would take that secret to his grave, because he loved Virgil, all of Virgil, every version of him, wanted to be his mate one day-if Virgil felt the same, anyway. Even if Virgil didnt love him back, he'd still never utter a word, he'd sooner die than out virgil for something he'd never had control over having.

And Virgil just. Slumps. The lingering anxiety rushing out in a whoosh of a sigh, leaning oh so carefully into Jan's hands and shakily nuzzling them, softly murmuring a returned 'Love you too. So much.'

And theres still plent that gets talked about, that gets worked through, boundaries that are set, ect. Janus happily gets all the cuddles with his spaceheater of a boyfriend as his ankle heals. He spends a long time walking with his crook staff, but eventually makes an almost complete recovery, save for the days it aches when the weather changes. They end up dating for a while as they work their schedules out together.

Then Janus discovers that Virgil indeed has a third form, one half man half wolf, that does immerge on full moons, but also can immerge during Virgils ruts. And. Its hot. Really really hot. Virgil is already hung and is able to pound against Jan's inner-locking easily, knot not included, from his sheer size alone, which he loves to do primarily because its one of the few things that fully shuts Jans snarky mouth up during sex and simply makes the omega writhe with pleasure. The fact that if Virgil gets the angle right, he gets a gorgeous show of his cock fucking Jan' cunt through the head bulging in his belly drives them both wild.

But in werewolf form? During a Rut? Big sharp hands grasping gently at Jan's smaller hips, sharp careful teeth nibbling claim marks into untouched skin, a large muscular body thats a bit taller and bigger than Virgils human form either pinning Janus face down or pulling him back to chest into his lap, the massive cock a bit more beastlike in nature and the bulb of the knot just a little bit bigger than what Jan's used to.

The stretch is massive and wrecks Janus in the best way, his body barely able to sheath it completely even when knotted, his inner-locking fucked open and tied tight around the head of the massive cock, as his belly bulging to completely reveal the outline of it inside him. Janus adores it in rare doses, as it does put a strain on his body even if he's happy to be bred over and over till hes within an inch of unconciousness. Virgil is plenty capable of doing so whilst not in werewolf form, dont get me wrong, but i'd like to think it's a rare treat for them to share together when his inner wolf wants to join in physically during one of Virgils ruts.

I'd like to think Jans on some kind of birth control, time-period relevance be damned(this is my fantasy world and im in control of what's in it dang it xD) so Virgil and Jan dont have to worry abt pups every time they fuck? bc. Theyre both individuals who have been lonely and touchstraved for a long time. Theyre very very physically affectionate behind closed doors. Janus is happy to drape himself over Virgil for attention, and Virgil will carefully drape himself over janus to pin him in place to win a play-fight. Early morning cuddles that turn into unhurried loving cuddle-fucking, daring teasing that turns into being cornered and fiercely kissed and perhaps fucked up against a wall or over a counter, a mutually tense and stressful day unwound by a few rounds of careful but fervent fucking, a funishment of cockwarming that turns into accidental knotting halfway through that is then followed with overstimulating Jan's lil cock/clit while hes still cumming around Virgils knot. They fuck alot. But the reason I bring up birth control outside of that is bc Janus absolutely has a breeding kink that Virgil is happy to feed that kink and fantasy while role-playing and teasing Janus abt breeding/knocking him up him so good. Growling into jan's ear about 'going to fill you up with pups' as he rams his cock in over and over until his knot pops in and his cock spears in deep, murmuring quiet encouragement while circling his love's twitching clit to 'relax so your locking will let me in and fill your womb full of pups, just a little more, thats it, there we go, easy, thats it, good boy, mmm, took me so well, bet it feels so good, milking me for all ive got, bet you'll be carrying my pups in no-time then, hm?' And janus will just be losing his mind, his eyes rolled up in pleasure and his legs twitching with every pulse of his orgasm and feeling each warm hot shot of cum pumped directly into his womb and making him feel so so so full. (Bc Virgil cums so much. Hes always had a ridiculous amt of cum per orgasm, and I'm absolutely calling it a werewolf thing.)

Do they actually plan on having pups? Eventually, especially after theyve been mated for a few years, yes. Once Virgil and Janus can be assured that they can raise werewolf pups safely where they are settled(they can) and that they will be able to provide everyrhing they need for their pups(they will), then they try for a baby. And. I'd like to think that they wait till just before Jan's next heat to stop taking birth control so that they have the best possible chance at knocking Jan up.

And Virgil doesnt hesitate, once Janus heat has fully hit and his love is begging for his cock, to put Jan in a breeding press, pinning jans knees up and stretching his omegas drenched cunt open slowly with his cock till he bottoms out, giving his loves body time to adjust, before pulling out halfway and starting an absolutely brutal pace. Making Janus mewl with pleasure as he trembles and cums from the rough treatment against his locking alone. Before long Virgil knots Janus, coaxing Janus's locking into wrapping tight around the head of his cock and keeping every drop of cum locked deep inside his love's womb, watching as Jan's face screws up in pure pleasure as his orgasm finally hits.

The moment Virgil's knot finally deflates and releases the tie, he's carefully rearranging Janus onto his elbows and knees, pinning him there as he slips back inside his love and immediately picks up a fast pace, fucking any escaping cum back deep into his love's full womb as he works to breed yet another load into the mix, working Janus up into pitiful whines and whimpers of pleasure, mewling desprately with the sweet treatment of his swollen anf overstimulated clit, unsure if hes experiencing another orgasm or aftershocks still from the last, but in no time Virgil is popping his knot back in with the purred demand for pups, Jan's locking barely getting a chance to resist before its already gripping tight around the pulsing head of his alphas cock, sealing in a second massive load that makes Jan's eyes roll, womb stuffed so full theres no way hes not getting knocked up.

Virgil eases them down onto the bed, curling up around his love while still locked deep inside, smelling the first wave of Jan's heat finally receeding, and with the way it takes only two more full waves to crest before Jans heat receeds into a low pleased simmer for the rest of the heat is more than telling on how successful theyd been.

So successful, infact, that they end up with their 'first' being a set of twins. ;)

Whys my brain gotta go and try and figure out how to combine anxceit, werewolf!virgil, and omegaverse? Is anyone of those in a spicy context not enough??? (Apparently not.)

[inketernal]

Quote Blatherings || Crooked Kingdom

      'By all that was holy, nothing could motivate the Kerch like cash.' (pg. 9)

To me, this screams of the state of the U.S. at the moment. We're all so hungry for money that we'll do whatever it takes to get it. But in doing that, we've more or less sacrificed our humanity. I didn't vote for him, but many did vote for Trump under the belief that he could bring us money again. That by running the country as he would a business, we would once again prosper monetarily. And that's the problem; world politics isn't business and trying to run it as such is going to cost us more than just money. What's worse, the people who voted for this unqualified man are people who already have lots of money themselves. People who don't want to lose a little of it to the government, but would rather have it taken from those of us who are struggling to hold on to the little we do have. It's that greed and desperate motivations and actions that will undoubtedly be the end of us, one way or another.

 "You don't look like a monster."

"I'll tell you a secret, Hanna. The really bad monsters never look like monsters." (pg. 30)

In it's simplest form; looks can be deceiving. Something or someone can look harmless and yet be the downfall of everything. Or, it could look like a deadly opponent, etc. and wind up the kindest of all. We shouldn't live our lives based on first glance perceptions. I've been told by my friends that when we initially met, they never would've guessed that I would be this ultimate boybandaholic, book nerd fangirl. Why? Because what they saw was this angry looking girl, usually dressed up in black or wearing sweats, seemingly taking life with a grain of salt. Needless to say, I'm not taking life that way, but admittedly it was nice to know the façade I put up was working. I'm a reverse Kaz in the sense that I want to look scary to keep away anyone who might attempt to take advantage of me.

                     "My father likes it too. He places a high value on learning."

                                             "Higher than money?"

Wylan shrugged... "Knowledge isn't a sign of divine favor. Prosperity is." (pg. 71)

It always comes back to money, doesn't it? The world's view of the highest accommodation in life. The ultimate goal of having more money than you can do with; money that won't leave with you once you're done with this life. "A sign of divine favor," proof that your creator believed you worthy enough. But then what does that say about the rest of us who aren't "blessed" with such a favor? Do we exist solely to make the prosperous feel their wealth in comparison to ours? Do we exist just to be mocked by them? And why isn't knowledge viewed as such a gift either? If it's just something that everyone can have or has a right to, shouldn't it always be free? Instead, we're charged for our education, making the rich richer and the rest less so. We live in a world and society where they want you to believe that the more knowledgeable you are, the more prosperous you become. But that's not really the case because the more you know, the more dangerous you become; a liability. People with the highest of degrees are being turned down for jobs so that a younger or less certified candidate so that the company can save money on a salary. And all the while, the loans you took out in order to pay for this grand education are accumulating more interests as time passes. Leaving you more in debt than when you started while the "prosperous" managed to hold on to their money.

"I am not a brute. I've employed the methods you are most accustomed to-- threats, violence. The Barrel has trained you to expect such treatment." (pg. 99)

Like so many other quotes in this book, this relates so much to the world we live in today. Causes have effects; violence breeds violence. As much as it's said that it no longer exists, racism is a bright example of this. People of Color are the ones dying on the streets, often times without due cause, while their white killers go free to live their life. After so much progress, we've reverted back to a world where we fear anyone different then us and as a result we make world changing mistakes. It isn't only about race anymore, either; now it includes sexual orientation. Because a lifestyle is different then our own, so many people don't know how to take it. Differences have always been a problematic thing to accept and now even more so. Failed attempts at understanding lead to accusations of mockery and offense, which in turn breeds hate. And that hatred becomes the violence that spreads across this world and believed by many unfortunates to be the "norm" because it's what's believed everyone is accustomed to. Truthfully, if we stopped functioning as the world around us has bred us to and instead did as we would like done to us, we probably wouldn't be in the mess that we are.

 'Even the people, clinging to traditional Ravkan dress, looked like relics of another time, objects salvaged from the pages of folktale. Had the year she spent in Ketterdam done this to her? Somehow changed the way she saw her own people and customs? She didn't want to believe that.' (pg. 191)

I think we've all experienced this, one way or another. It doesn't even have to be as specific as your ethnic culture looking different to you. If you live long enough in one place, you'll adopt whatever customs are its norms. Move someplace else and, given time, those things will seem odd to you. It's all a matter of adapting to survive. We take on what we think is necessary, inadvertently ridding ourselves of old traits, and in turn become an entirely different person. A person that our old self wouldn't recognize and vise versa. It happens so subconsciously that we're unaware of it until we're thrust in a situation of enlightenment. And when we are, we experience the position of being an outsider in a culture we once existed. Which to me, just proves that no one truly belongs to any one lifestyle and shouldn't be rejected because of it. Given the right circumstances, that person can be us.

Source: @inketernal

[giraffles]

Of A Feather

IT’S CAPTAIN HARLOCK WEEK KIDS. Which means I have absolutely nothing prepared and spent the whole evening scraping this together. pls just take it as it is. 

day 1 is supposed to be your favorite tochiro, and what an unfair question, I love them all. so have a little thing with a tochiro in it instead! this is set in modern AU/the Lights Will Guide You series. 

Of A Feather

They've just finished cleaning out the den of a much hated rival when Tochiro approaches him with a squawking bundle.

you can also read it here on AO3!

They've just finished cleaning out the den of a much hated rival when Tochiro approaches him with a squawking bundle.

"What the hell is--"

"We're keeping him," Tochiro announces, pulling the sheet off the cage with a flourish, "Isn't he adorable?"

Harlock has to disagree. Inside the cage is a rather large bird, mostly black with crimson accent feathers, and beady little eyes that have murder within their depths. It shrieks even louder when exposed to the light. He can already tell that Tochiro has fallen in love.

"It's ugly. And loud."

"He's perfect," His best friend coos, "Aren't you, Tori?"

"...you didn't seriously name it 'bird', did you?"

"What's wrong with that?" Tochiro questions defensively, "Do you have a better one?"

The truth is, he doesn't. They're both garbage at coming up with fitting titles for anything; the only reason the Arcadia sounds remotely passible is because they stole it from a book of old folktales. (Harlock had personally like 'Deathshadow', but Emeraldas had stared at him blankly until he withdrew it from the table.) But naming a sorry excuse for an animal 'bird' was extra uncreative. The bird flaps its wings, nearly shaking the cage out of Tochiro's hands.

"I'm not sure bringing it along is such a good idea."

"It'll be fine." Tochiro insists. Harlock doesn't believe him for a second.

He makes a good case for returning the bird to the wild. It's a rare breed of parrot, though it looks more like some carrion eater, and it's not domesticated in the slightest. Tori only eats certain kinds of fruit, but chews relentlessly on anything within reach. The bird hates everyone in the crew, save for its savior Tochiro, and barely tolerates Harlock's presence. Tori is obnoxious, messy, and has very few redeeming qualities.

However, the discovery of a broken and badly healed wing that prevents the bird from flying straight destroys that argument. That, and Tochiro's puppy eyes are impossible to say no to. So the bird stays.

Tori never gets any better. He sheds feathers everywhere, stashes food in hidden places on the ship, and makes sure to make enough racket for an army. They find torn connection lines and trashed circuitry with suspicious claw marks, but Tochiro just laughs and fixed whatever his pet breaks. Harlock has to fish the clumsy thing out of the ocean more than once. He knows most of the crew are only joking when they say they're going to finally kill Tori, and yet he also wouldn't be surprised if it actually happened one day. Harlock instates a ship-wide 'no pets' policy. It gets broken on more than one occasion.

But life goes on. Things return to a rhythm, or they find a new one, just like whenever someone new arrives. It's not the worst thing to have ever happened on the Arcadia.

And then, everything falls apart.

The world goes so dark so fast. There are suddenly more important things than a ship, or playing the noble pirate, or a dumb bird he never wanted in the first place. His best friends are dead and there aren't enough answers in the universe for why.

One year, three months, and eight days later, Harlock strikes the deal that puts him behind bars. In exchange, everyone else's criminal records are erased. A little girl in southern California gets protection and is provided for, though she'll likely never know her parent's history. The warship Arcadia ceases to make port. And then, he waits.

Six months after that, they offer him the job.

Kei asks if he wants her to bring the bird along. The northeastern US probably isn't the best place for a tropical animal, but the thought of leaving Tori behind, or worse, handing him over to a zoo, doesn't sit well with him either. If it was anyone else's bird, he would have said to hell with it, but Tori is Tochiro's. Abandoning him would feel like accepting that there was nothing more to be done, and that is unacceptable. Maybe it's a bit of stubbornness. Maybe it's a bit of nostalgia, a bit of pity, a bit of wanting to hold onto any last thing that he can.

It's funny to watch it all play out again, but with different people. An office, albeit a secret one, is different than a ship's bridge but Tori manages to create havoc anyway. Pencils, pens, and computer cords get shredded. Snacks are stolen, only for chewed wrappers to appear later. Someone mentions they're probably breaking ordinance laws by keeping an exotic parrot within the city limits. Again, the bird stays.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He warns Zero when he walks past with a handful of grapes. He blinks at Harlock, holds a grape in front of Tori, who then devours it before chirping. No blood is drawn. Harlock hasn't seen such a peaceful, much less affectionate, display since, well, before all of this. Tori headbutts Zero's hand in search of more treats.

"Do what?" He asks.

"Nevermind."

[mustardyellowsunshine]

20 Question Survey

@grapefruitwannabe ordered me to do this, so here ya go. I can’t deny a bff pizza slice.

First story you ever wrote: Pretending—an introspective, kind of angsty one-shot from Kagome’s perspective. That story was my first attempt at writing first-person. I don’t remember much else about it, though, because I wrote it when I was 15 and haven’t looked at it in over a decade. (For my own peace of mind, I tend to avoid rereading anything I write.)  

A story on which you have been flamed: I’ve never actually been flamed. I did get a few less-than-complimentary reviews on The Story of Which I Do Not Speak, but they weren’t nasty enough to be flames. And even if they had been, that fic kind of deserved it...

Your favorite story that you have written or are writing: To date, I’ve had the most fun writing True North. It was really fun to play with the imagery and figurative language—I got to flex my poetic muscle a little.  

Favorite story on a fanfiction site: None of my followers will be surprised when I say (for the thousandth time) that Sachi is my favorite Inuyasha fic. It’s just so well written! The characterization and the pacing and the phenomenal InuKag chemistry. I’ve reread it so many times it’s a little ridiculous. I love Waiting on a Wish for similar reasons. I also adore Folktale for the originality of its setting and the lovely romance; The Half Breed’s Wife for the delicious InuKag slow burn and the awesome portrayal of Inuyasha; Phony Digits for its wit and humor and InuKag fluff; A Fool’s Redemption for the world-building and the InuKag (you guys noticing a pattern here?)... gah, there’s just too many good stories.      

Why you became a fanfiction writer: It’s pretty simple: I fell in love with Inuyasha and I’d already been dabbling in writing. Once I found out that Inuyasha fanfiction existed, I read it voraciously and then started writing my own. 

Favorite media to write for (i.e. Pokemon, Naruto, etc.): I mean, do I even need to say it at this point?

Story you’ve reviewed the most: I have no freakin’ clue.

Your most popular story among readers: If we’re judging popularity by the amount of favorites, it’d be Common Sense; if we’re judging by review count, it’d be You Are My Shelter. 

A story on which you have/had writer’s block: The Journey Home and You Are My Shelter. Like BIG TIME writer’s block. And the hell of it is, I know what needs to happen in both stories. I have them both plotted out. I know their beginning, middle, and end... but actually getting it written out, chapter by chapter, has been so hard for me lately. Nothing I write seems good enough. DX  

A story you deleted and then resurrected later: None. I’ve deleted one fanfiction and it’s LONG gone.

Longest private messaging conversation and with whom: Most definitely with @grapefruitwannabe, though @inunanna is a really close second. (I ain’t counting them, it’d take way too long.)

Favorite genre (i.e. fantasy, adventure, crime, etc.): InuKag. *shot*

Your favorite lesser-known pairing: Grandpa Higurashi x his newspaper

Your biggest qualm when reading fanfiction: Characterization. The Inuyasha gang has to be “in character” or I lose interest real fast. Even in AUs, if the characters aren’t some iteration of themselves—if they’re fundamentally different, if they don’t feel like them—I’ll nope out. I read Inuyasha fanfiction because I love those characters and I want to see more of them. It’s great when an author explores different facets of a character, or has their own interpretation/read on a character’s development; but the character’s fundamental qualities need to be the same. If I want to read about someone’s OCs, I’ll go read a novel.  

Your biggest qualm when writing fanfiction: I second guess almost everything I write, but action sequences give me the most trouble. I also obsess over dialogue—I want it to sound natural and I’m never confident that it does.

A story you didn’t expect to get popular: Well, I don’t know that I’d classify any of my stories as “popular,” per se. But I was surprised at the reception of To Protect. I thought Grape would be the only one to care about it. XD

Your favorite reviewer: I honestly deeply appreciate everyone who leaves me a review.

Your favorite author: Quillwing717, because she gave me Sachi. (And because I must bow before her skillfulness with language and character development and pacing and complex plot lines and just. Everything.)

I’m tagging some other writers, because I wanna read their answers! @grapefruitwannabe, @stoatsandweasels, @inunanna, @gypsin, @keichanz, @artistefish, @inukag-4ever, @adorableears7