#but a lot of the people I grew up with are absolutely vile and they’re married

[beazt]

almost everyone I grew up with is engaged or married or has kids now

it’s literally easier to count the ones who aren’t than the ones who are

whining under the cut

we’re only fucking 21-23 slow the fuck down!!!!

yes it’s upsetting to me yes a lot of it is jealousy/envy

not a single person has expressed romantic interest in me since i hit puberty. essentially. and I don’t know if you can count those elementary school “romantic attractions” anyway, so essentially… no one has expressed romantic interest in me, ever.

“but wait!” you may interject “it’s a two way street, have you expressed romantic interest in anyone?”

every time I have gotten the smallest crush or attraction towards someone (and I see them more than a couple times per month) I have expressed that. since I was like 12. excluding my 2 most recent crushes bc 1) I could just tell would not be a good fit and 2) had to indefinitely remove myself from the place where I was seeing the crush before I could

i have a 100% rejection rate and most of the times i had a really bad reaction beyond rejection

hell. I can barely manage friendships

but what’s probably going to happen is that I’ll get into a relationship and really fuck it up bc I’ve never been in one before, or at least, be so awkward and inexperienced about it that im unbearable

and that’s IF I can even get in a relationship without people seeing me having never even been on a date as too big a red flag

:/ if I go my whole entire life with my entire breadth of “romantic” experience being with pedophiles as a minor im going to haunt everybody from hell

I don’t think a relationship would fix me. by any means. that’s not why I’m longing for one. I just feel absolutely deprived of strong connection and that I’m missing out on something that gets harder and harder as you age and is a nearly universal experience, with no control over it. and it makes me feel all kinds of genuinely awful shit about myself.

[ichatake]

im curious since in ur request rules you have that you write yandere characters. What is your definition of yandere? How do you write them and what do you think about them? btw I really love your work.

and since we're on the topic, what characters would you see being a little yandere? What type of yandere would they be?

Hi Anon! I appreciate the question! Many people have different ideas of what a yandere is and how they should be portrayed. I’d like to start off by giving you the definition of what most people see a yandere:

Now, my definition of a yandere is a person who is completely devoted to another, to the point where they develop unhealthy tendencies. I tend to write my Yandere characters in a more realistic way. (I tend to stay away from the whole ‘oh gosh you just killed this person because they looked at me weird’ kind of writing style. It’s just not my cup of tea)

Since I’ve always been a big fan of psychological horror and dark romance, I portray yanderes as narcissistic, manipulative, and simply not safe to be around. They might have stalkerish tendencies, yes, but I like to focus more on how they would affect the person they like. (I know it kinda takes away from the whole definition of yandere) Basically, I just like turning the usual lovestruck, insane yandere into a more realistic version of themselves (as realistic as they could get in the ninja world. I hate completely altering a character’s personality into something they’re not).

What do I think of yanderes? Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to meet one in real life. I like reading and writing them in fiction, but in no way shape or form do I romanticize or agree with whatever the Yandere does. I do not condone any type abuse because it’s absolutely vile that someone might go out their way to hurt others. Having said that, I think many people might not find the way I write yanderes very pleasing, because it’s not what they’re used to seeing, and that’s totally okay!

Now to answer you final questions:

I believe there are a few characters that might have the possibilities of becoming a Yandere or having Yandere tendencies:

Obito (way too obsessive):

I know a lot of people think the same way as I do. I believe that Obito is a man with serious problems.

He technically grew up alone, just with his grandmother. He almost succeeded in putting everyone in an infinite genjutsu, where he could distort reality to his liking and be with the girl he loved.

It’s safe to say that he would be a yandere where if push comes to shove, he will do whatever it takes to have you near him.

He is obsessive (he had a lot of pictures of Rin when he was young, so…). He needs to remember your face clearly, even when he’s away from you. You’re the reason why he breathes. He lives because you allow him to. That’s what he thinks.

Madara(protective and controlling):

Hear me out, this man is complicated.

Sometimes he would put his desires over you, but if we’re going to be honest, he’d shred down the world for you.

If something ever happened to you, Madara would take no time in avenging you. He’s a little different to Obito. Although he’s obsessive, he doesn’t completely revolve his life around you.

He likes feeling possessive over you, but he can leave at any time that he needs to. You have to wait for him. He’ll be a protective yandere, looking out for you and making sure you understand that he’ll be the only one there for you.

Kakashi (protective, pathological liar) :

Whoa? Kakashi? Really? Yes really. This man has grown up alone. He made friends, they died. They left. Anytime he got close to someone, they’d disappear. It’s only logical that if he were to fall for someone, he’d like to protect them.

However, this protectiveness can get overwhelming. He knows you’re capable of protecting yourself, he simply doesn’t want you to. If one thing he’s done wrong in life, it’s protecting those around him. This was his time to make up for all those times he failed.

He isn’t used to affection, but when he has it, he craves it. Badly. You need to remind him that you love him too, or else he might just think you’re ready to leave him at any time.

He isn’t above lying to get you to do something. He’s lied before, so why not lie again? If it gets things going his way, he won’t care. A little harmless lie can turn into a bunch of them.

Sasuke (distant, but protective) :

If he likes you, he definitely won’t show it. If he genuinely cares, he won’t be above doing anything inhumane. He’s already done a lot of things in this world that got him hate, adding another one to his list wouldn’t be a problem.

He’ll work from the shadows. He’ll love you from far away. He isn’t really affectionate and doesn’t know how to show it.

One things certain though, you’re his lover. He will give his life for you or take another.

You ask him for the moon and he will serve it in a silver platter before leaving.

Do I think other character could be Yandere? Well yes, this is fiction after all, but these are the best that fit that description. Anyways, thank you for your questions! I’d love to answer more if anyone else is curious or wants to request some Yandere content!

[scarletlizzard]

Secondly, on a more serious note. I rlly wanna know your experience living in the south. I grew up in neoliberal California and Washington but fell in love w Texas this year. I’m rlly rlly considering moving there next year.

Essentially I feel like I spend SO. MUCH. emotional energy vibe checking ppl. Bc ppl here r so neoliberal and fake! You have to rlly dig deeep to know ppl’s true values. And sometimes they’ll seem cool but then switch up on u and are like surprise! And say some whack shit like “trans ppl r only valid if they pass” or make some joke ab being gay but it’s ok bc they’re “and ally and well versed in queer culture”. And I’m kinda tired of having to vibe check so hard all the time. There’s also a lack of nuance in ppl’s understandings of history theory and social justice issues. But in Texas, I noticed that 1) u don’t have to vibe check ppl bc they’ll just straight up tell u they hate u and u can just stay away from them which makes things so much simpler when u don’t have to decipher shit and 2) the progressive ppl are just all radicals!! Bc in a state where they’re the minority thought, they have to be so secure in their values that they’ve done the research!! They know the theories!! They know the TINGZ. And they’re rooted in their beliefs. They don’t just say/believe things bc their liberal parents told them to without understanding WHY. It was kinda refreshing to interact w all these ppl ngl.

I only know one person from the south (became friends bc she moved here to CA) and she said she feels the exact same way ab both places. But that she feels as though despite not having to vibe check ppl, she’s still tired bc she’s constantly swimming upstream as a radical queer TM in the south just bc of statewide politics. And always having her rights be in a precarious status.

So I’m curious ab your experience living in the south as a queer TM. Do u have a similar experience? And curious what state u r in if you’re open to sharing! This also is a deep ish q so I understand if ur not comfy talking ab it and u can just ignore this ask!!

-

👹

Where to begin! This might be a bit long, warning 😬

First off, I'll say I live in Alabama. Texas is MASSIVE. There are good areas and really, really bad areas. I'd do a lot of research into specific areas before you made a move or traveled. I visited Austin, and it was nice. It seemed very welcoming? There were pride flags in most of the bars I went to, and it was in October! (I know some will just put them out for June)

As for being queer in the South, it's honestly such a toss-up. I think wherever you go in the world, most people are going to be fake, unfortunately. I worked with this one guy at a restaurant, he was about my age, we went to high school together, he knew about my dating girls, we even hungout after work occasionally! He's super country, drives a big truck, etc. , but was so nice and treated me no different. Asked about the girls I was talking to, SO casual. Last week, he shared on Facebook a vile, hatred post against Pride Month and LGBT in general. I was shocked!

The specific area I'm in is not as bad as some areas in the state. But it's always the looks rather than them actually saying something. Sometimes, it's just not even comfortable to hold hands walking around. It's hard, and it's very weird not to be accepted. Trans people have it even harder with all the medical laws. Women's rights are being stripped. It's honestly a political nightmare here. Don't get me started on the fucking OBSESSION with Trump.

It's really not necessarily always a political thing, but a religious thing. Religion here is absolutely insane and I don't think people understand quite how serious it's taken. Just in the state of Alabama, there are almost 13,000 churches. Think about that... that's INSANE. There is a church on every corner in my town, we probably have between 10-15. My town is not that big!! Separation of church and state here is an absolute JOKE. Some truly take into consideration to 'Love thy neighbor', but others only pick and choose who they want to treat with kindness.

It's not always easy, and sometimes I feel like I'm constantly having to hide a part of me. Coming out was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life (especially since I didn't even have control over it happening), but, as I said, it's so different in different areas. Every time I feel any progression, there's always someone to take it back two steps. It's more welcoming each year, but the ones who won't accept it can be just so, so hateful.

The South is a beautiful, wonderful place to live that is truly SO diverse when you think about it. The beaches are gorgeous, the forests are breathtaking, and the food is fantastic. The people can be so welcoming, but you just have to be careful who you trust, in my opinion. At least, if anything, you'll most likely be treated with that Southern hospitality and good manners. There's only been a handful of times in my ENTIRE life where I've been directly spoken to in a rude manner about my sexuality.

This was a lot, and I apologize if it raised more questions than answering your thoughts 😅 In short, I love and hate the South. It's different every day, and I wish more than ANYTHING it was more progressive. If it was, I truly believe it would be the most perfect place to live.

[pennzance]

Ghostbusters: Port Huron (Episode 13)

Episode 13: The 5th floor

September 11th, 1998

Field Operation report by Amber

Today, we got into the main complex. It took a bit of work by other people to clear the debris of the elevator car enough to get a ladder up to the ground floor of the building, and then a little more work determining who was going where. The crayon eater sent my team to the top floor, probably to get us away from each other. That was fine with me.

I only served 4 years, but even I had heard about Julius Kaine. We used to read the court martial dockets for fun in our downtime in the warehouse I worked in as a materials manager, and his name came up a few times. Each time the charges were dismissed, but there was a clear pattern of physical and sexual abuse that seemed to follow the guy around and being near him sets my teeth on edge. As far as I know, the Marines finally kicked him out five or so years ago, and he was a Colonel at the time. He probably promoted himself when he became the boss over in Flint.

Jackasses aside, we took the stairs up to the fifth floor. The basement didn’t have stairway access, and after seeing the Chamber, as Bryan insists on calling it, I’m not surprised. I’ll bet the basement was elevator access only and required a special key, but we’d have to do bit more work on the remains of the elevator car to determine that to be the case, and we don’t have that kind of time.

I was ready for the main complex to be a warzone. Just packed with all manner of nasty, unbelievably vile entities. To my shock, it was not wall to wall atrocities. Most of this building was host to offices, records rooms and administrative in processing. This was where patients were dropped off, diagnosed, and then shunted into the various dormitories or wards that specialized in their care.

Except the 5th floor. The 5th floor was used for hydrotherapy and lobotomies. No, I don’t understand how those two go together.

My team consisted of myself, Remy and Tim. Remy grew up in New Orleans and moved north to Detroit looking for stable employment and came to absolutely the wrong state for that. Tim was born and raised in Port Huron, but moved to Flint after High School to work in the factories that surround the city. They’re solid guys and we’ve been working well together, but I’ll admit I miss my normal team. Our dynamic is just a lot more fun.

We encountered 4 major entities on the 5th floor. The first and my least favorite was a rather psychotic bastard who had it out for me, personally. Maybe he just had a problem with women. He wasn’t loud or flashy, but he was violent as all hell because he choked the ever-loving shit out of me. While I’m writing this, I have a cold towel wrapped around my incredibly red and irritated neck. Busting that son of a bitch was the most satisfying part of my day, once I was done coughing and I could put his phantasmal ass in a trap.

The second was a small, dripping child. She wasn’t a threat, but Remy kept slipping on the water and falling down. She’d peak around a corner and then run and hide. We only caught her when she just… stopped in the middle of a room. My mother used to have seizures and that looked kind of similar. Enough that I don’t want to think about what might have happened to that girl.

Our third major ghost was a nurse that seemed absolutely determined to slice Tim open with a bone saw to see what made him tick. This one greatly complicated our search for the second ghost until we got her into the trap. I almost got hit with a syringe. She was a nasty old biddy.

Number four was the worst. Between the Choker and the child, I kept seeing shadows out of the corner of my eye. Once the Nurse was in a trap, I caught sight of it again, but it didn’t pounce until we caught the little girl. This thing was a shadow creature, crawling up the walls and along the ceilings. It didn’t make ANY noise, and whoever it attacked couldn’t make any noise either. Tracking this thing down was a pain in the ass, but we tried to trap it in one of the lobotomy rooms. That did not work out well.

I think it was Tim who missed the shadow creature and hit the oxygen tank. Why there was still oxygen IN it, I have no idea, but being in a smallish room when a tank full of oxygen explodes is a quick route to getting tinnitus. Also knocked on your ass. It stunned the shadow beast too, but by the time I could get back up on my feet it was trying to escape. I could barely see it jump into the elevator shaft. We ran down the stairs to warn the others and try to find it, but by the time we got there it had possessed Dabonovich. His eyes were solid black and he was screaming without any noise, but he was also trying to kill Eric. I reacted on instinct.

Apparently kicking a former hockey player in the testicles is an excellent quick exorcism technique. The thing poured out of his eyes and mouth and tried to get away again, but Eric grabbed it with his Proton Gauntlet and almost stuffed it physically into the trap I had. We almost high-fived until Eric realized that would have been a very bad idea.

We helped Dabonovich to his feet. He was really out of it, but he was alive. Remy and Tim helped Microwave finish sweeping the 4th floor while we limped back down the stairs to ground level. We had the front door propped open now so we wouldn’t have to climb the ladder from the basement anymore.

Our extended operation had attracted some onlookers. Paranormal fans, ghost heads, or even just people interested in Eloise were milling around on the other side of the street that went past the main complex. I heard some scattered applause as we helped Dabonovich into the crayon eater’s truck. Eric helped me find a calm place to sit down and we took a breather for a while. I had been running on adrenaline for way too long to be sustainable and my entire body hurt.

Bryan and Jeremy came to find us a little while later. I might have fallen asleep for a minute, I can’t remember. I handed Bryan my car keys because truthfully, I was in no condition to drive. I don’t really remember getting back to the Best Western, and while the guys talked excitedly about something they apparently found, I turned in for the night.

We have one more day here at Eloise before the county expects their results. At this point, I could give a damn if they’re happy or not.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Purling Hiss Interview: Piecemeal Worldbuilding

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“It’s finally here. I can’t believe it.”

That was Mike Polizze over the phone, speaking to me last month about Drag on Girard, the new Purling Hiss album out now via Drag City. It’s the catchiest, most power pop-forward PH record yet, Polizze’s lead-rhythm guitar arrangements and the singalong harmonized vocals leading the charge on sci-fi songs vaguely about Philadelphia, paranoia, and everything in between. 

Drag on Girard seems like a return to Polizze’s skyward scuzz, after the dialed back, languid jams of his solo debut Long Lost Solace Find. In actuality, though, it was supposed to come out long before this year, just like the valiant “return” from Polizze’s other band, Birds of Maya’s Valdez, recorded in 2014 but released 7 years later. Polizze and company started tracking Girard at the tail end of 2019 and finished it in early 2020. Before he was able to do vocals and overdubs, the pandemic and lockdown happened. He eventually got into the studio in 2021, but delays in vinyl manufacturing backups and therefore test pressings, in combination with Drag City’s regular release queue, meant that the record didn’t come out until this March. “It seems on paper like a long break between Purling Hiss records,” the prolific Polizze said. “But the chronology was messed up.”

2022 was the first year since Polizze started his music career that none of his projects released anything. Because 2020′s Long Lost Solace Find was technically his last record chronologically, the world feels weirdly open. At the start of the pandemic, he and his wife moved from Fishtown in Philly to the suburbs where he grew up, and they now have a two-year-old child. “Coming out on the other side of all that is kind of a weird feeling,” said Polizze. “Now, I’m at an interesting point where there’s no big plan.” Even if the looseness of Drag on Girard is coincidental, you can see Polizze’s unbound attitude in everything from the way he’s honest about the piecemeal worldbuilding of Drag on Girard’s themes to the fact that he’s not currently working with a booking agent, planning shows himself. That includes tonight and tomorrow night at Union Pool in Brooklyn, with Chris Forsyth and Garcia Peoples.

Read my conversation with Polizze below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: Do you think the loose sounding nature of Drag on Girard was a result of your attitude to just have fun with it?

Mike Polizze: Yes, absolutely. We recorded at Jeff [Zeigler’s] again. I really wanted that “live in the studio” feel. There were even a couple songs that weren’t totally structured. The ones on the B-side are “let’s just have fun with it,” which is the spirit of the live stuff. I still feel like I want to go in that direction more. I wanted it to be off-the-cuff, not super refined. 

SILY: It almost seems to me like the punkier, noisier, scuzzier version of the same spirit as Long Lost Solace Find. Same vibe, different aesthetic.

MP: The solo album is pretty much just me, and Kurt [Vile] on a couple things, and [Drag on Girard] is with the band. It’s weird, because the songs are new to people now, and they’re still fresh for us, but everything got put on hold for everybody.

SILY: Have you been playing the Drag on Girard songs live for a bit?

MP: The first song, “Yer In All My Dreams”, had been kicking around for a few years, in the live sets since 2017-2018, and we cut it in the studio in 2019. I still can’t believe how much time has passed. “Baby”’s been kicking around for a while. “Stay With Us”, [too].

SILY: I like how the record traverses the different eras of guitar music. There are some of your usual influences, and the closing track has a Crazy Horse thing going on, but songs like “When The End Is Over” and even “Out The Door” has that jangle pop feel to it. Are you a fan of Flying Nun Records?

MP: Yeah, I do like that stuff a lot. I don’t really know where influences come from. I consider it like fishing. You have the fishing rod out, and you’re waiting for something to come along. That’s how I write. I didn’t set out to write like this on purpose. The placeholder name for “When The End Is Over” was “Power Pop” because it felt like Cheap Trick or Shoes or even Teenage Fanclub. But yeah, I love The Clean and all that stuff.

SILY: How did you approach the lyrics on the record?

MP: Normally, I’ll sort of find a song or riff and work off that and come up with parts just by jamming on them and seeing where they fall. Lyrics are usually last. I’ll have syllables formed over parts, and maybe a word or two will pop into my mind as a placeholder that presents a theme. When it’s time to really figure it out and I have the pacing and tempo and syllables and inflection, I think, “What do I feel? What kind of words can I conjure up for this?” It fits like a puzzle, with the guitar, then structure, then we practice over it and I sing non-words, then I go to the notepad. It’s less of a story and more nonsensical poetry. I edit from there.

SILY: There’s definitely a bit of sci-fi in here.

MP: [laughs] Maybe in some parts. “Baby” has some funny lyrics. “Drag on Girard”, too.

SILY: What about “Something in my Basement”?!?

MP: Yeah. It’s kind of like my joke to myself, like Little Shop of Horrors. Kitschy and fun. I didn’t know it was going to end up being about that. Little quips or slogans or titles pop up in [my] memory that I build off of. “Something in my basement” popped up in my mind, and the idea of a story there, and the end of the song is, “There’s nothing in my basement,” so the question is whether it really happened or whether it was all in your mind. 

SILY: Is it similar to your approach to the instrumentation and aesthetic, where your inspirations are a bit more subconscious?

MP: Yeah, kind of. It’s all right there. We’re constantly taking in information, and I don’t really think of the full idea first at all. I start scribbling, on paper or on guitar, then get a Voice Memo going on my phone. I used to just use my memory when I was younger, and then tape machines. But that is the formula.

I have goals, sometimes, or a general direction I want to go in, but the best thing to do for me is to improvise it and let it guide me and go for it. If I ever hit a wall, which happens all the time, I have to figure out how to navigate, so I keep it wide and vague and then hone in on it as I go. It’s not all figured out before I start.

SILY: Do you feel like this record is a balm when you consider how out of sorts the world feels? 

MP: It feels celebratory, in a way. We had fun with it. Truthfully, it was all written before the pandemic happened. I’m happy with it, for sure. It’s kind of like an opposite record from [Long Lost Solace Find], which is refined-sounding in my opinion. It’s structured, pretty even. [Drag on Girard] is pretty off-the-rails. I don’t know if it sounds that way. Just because it took so long to come out doesn’t mean we were in the studio the whole time. It’s pretty shrill in some parts. I tried to balance between raw and unhinged with pop sensibilities. It’s all over the place.

SILY: What’s the album title mean?

MP: It’s an inside joke between my drummer Ben [Leaphart] and I. When I first moved to Philly in 2004, I met him and Jason [Killinger] from Birds of Maya. It was the first time I moved into a house with bandmates and roommates. Fishtown was starting to gentrify a bit, but it was still an affordable place. Part of me is talking about the glory days of that, but I’m not from that neighborhood, so what right do I have? [In any case,] it was affordable and became this artist utopia with a lot of music people. It was a good time right around then, the early 2000s, with Espers, Jack Rose, Birds of Maya, Kurt Vile, The War on Drugs. Johnny Brenda’s was one floor, no food, draught beer, a hole in the wall.

Girard Avenue is one of the main strips/arterial routes that goes through Fishtown, along with Frankford Avenue. Me and Ben had our used crappy old vehicles. In 2004, I’d meet up with him and there’d be nobody on Girard. It was pretty dead at night. There were no cars on the road after 8 P.M. We’d joke about drag racing on Girard Avenue. It was an edgier neighborhood. Since then, Fishtown has totally gentrified: There’s no parking, it’s overdeveloped, there are all these crappy buildings, and there’s nowhere to move. This isn’t anything political or social, just a personal inside joke. It’s actually kind of stupid, but I thought the title had a good ring to it. Philly can be “a drag,” and there’s other imagery invoked in that. I like it when things have or could have more than one meaning.

SILY: This record is also a windows-down, blast from the car stereo record.

MP: [laughs]

SILY: What’s the story behind the cover art?

MP: I had lots of sketches, and I drew and colored with different mediums a lot before I moved out of Fishtown in 2018-2019. I haven’t done it much the past few years. Jason is an artist and graphic designer. I brought a lot of stuff to him, but we actually went a different direction. It’s not what the cover is now. We had a couple other ideas, and the cover that’s now is one of them. It matched the back cover idea, which we did have. I think we hit a wall. We didn’t really know what we wanted. I pitched some of my sketch ideas, and my bandmates liked it, and Drag City [did, too]. I liked it because I made it, but I don’t know what the world likes. Every once in a while, I’ll draw things that don’t make sense. Kind of like the sci-fi thing, [the] guy [on the cover] is sort of my catatonic space traveler suspended in the multi-verse, or something. It’s half-baked, and tied into Drag on Girard. It’s funny how I stitched together this half-baked story and imagery, this theme of sci-fi imagery and living in Philadelphia. There are these songs, lyrics, album cover, and album title, and I almost put together the story in reverse that way. We’re people and take in all this information every day, and there are probably people who are way more organized than me. It’s fun for me, and it feels multi-dimensional, going from the sketches to Jason and me working on it to Drag City. It’s not the order I expected.

SILY: Have you been writing new material?

MP: Yeah. It honestly feels great, and sometimes, I don’t realize it until moments like this where I get to talk about it. There are irons in the fire. I feel grateful I always have something I feel like I can work on because I’ve compiled enough ideas on my own. I’m working on another solo record; slowly but surely, you’ll see something there at some point. I’m so lucky to have the bandmates I have in Purling Hiss, I’m sure we’ll keep working on stuff. Birds of Maya wants to do some more stuff. I almost miss editing music in my 4-track and computer at home. Any free time that’s rare, I miss messing around with things outside of what I just mentioned. There have been a couple ideas with collaborations, but nothing I can speak on because they might not happen. I’m trying to keep things moving.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading you’ve dug?

MP: I’ve been struggling to find time to read but I have a pile of books. Fiction-wise, I got True Grit. I got the SST [Records] book, Corporate Rock Sucks. Because of my toddler, I’m squeezed for personal time.

Since Wayne Shorter died, I’ve been on a jazz kick. My dad died when I was a teenager, but he played saxophone and started music school young and didn’t end up doing it because he had a family. But he had a pretty cool record collection. He left behind a bunch of jazz records, lots of Blue Note stuff. Lots of [John] Coltrane lately. I keep going through kicks, days where I listen to my own band practices and demos, and then I’ll get to the point I need to listen to other people’s music. Gábor Szabó. My dad had Dreams in his collection. Pharoah Sanders’ Karma. I really wish he had Sun Ra stuff. I know Sun Ra was between Chicago and Philly--we can’t take full credit for him.

[theblondebondd]

anyways here's a hot take about sharon's ending in fatws ( which, to preface, i hate, so im not justifying it )

we would've never gotten here if the mcu fandom hadn't pushed for it so much, specifically peggy stans and hayley atwell / hayley atwell stans.

to clarify, you all spent years saying that peggy wasn't just steve's love interest, that steve needed to move on, etc, but when steve moved on to sharon ( who btw is his ACTUAL soulmate and has been for 60+ years, not miss " emotionally abusive bigot " 616 peggy carter ), you turned it into a " steve is PEGGY'S man " / " PEGGY is steve's girl " argument. it was y'all that diminished her to that, AND you diminished sharon to that in the process ( because mind you, in terms of things canon to the mcu anymore, sharon did a hell of a lot more in ws + cw than peggy did in tfa, especially for steve ).

you harassed emily vancamp, you signed petitions to get sharon written out of the mcu, etc. YOU GUYS and *only* you guys, made it clear that you didn't want steve to be with anyone if it wasn't peggy or bucky. so then they sent steve back to peggy ( because let's be real, disney was NEVER going through o make stucky canon ) and then all of you complained that " it took away peggy's choice / authority / story / arc / etc ". YOU DID THAT TO HER.

you told marvel that the one person they were trying to set steve up with wasn't good enough, especially compared to peggy, so they gave you what you wanted and then you complained about it like brats because it wasn't ACTUALLY what you wanted, you just wanted to hate on sharon because she wasn't peggy or natasha, as if multiple badass shield agent women can't coexist.

after civil war, the rise of sharon hate grew exponentially with people claiming she MUST be a villain, or that she " feels " evil, or that she was clearly manipulating everything. and again, you harassed emily vancamp and you encouraged hayley atwell's vile behavior with cheers and laughter, and it got so far that they literally had to pull sharon and evc from the films for *five years.*

and now she's back. and again, because of the narrative that you guys perpetuated - that she was evil, a villain, manipulating everyone around her - that's exactly what marvel did. you said she was just a love interest so they did the opposite. and you STILL hate her. emily vancamp is STILL being harassed over the role. and when i say it's majority peggy fans, it is, because the only people i EVER see talking about how terrible sharon is are ones saying she " doesn't live up to queen peggy's legacy ". and while this might not be all peggy fans, im sure some of you are wonderful, it is a whole lot of you.

and now, after getting what you wanted AGAIN, you're complaining about how it " ruins peggy's legacy ". hate to break it to you miss peggy carter was not a good person, no better than sharon as the powerbroker. she hired multiple hydra agents into her organization for operation paperclip ( including zola who was skull's literal right hand man ), gave them completely free range and was oblivious enough in her own organization to let that run free. which means she either allowed it to happen or was an incompetent enough leader that it was able to.

second issue? the fact that she was the director of shield the ENTIRE time isaiah and that group of black men were being tested on, tortured, killed, beaten, and anything else that happened. shield was the most influential government establishment in the mcu pre - winter soldier, not to mention the fact that they're generally known for handling enhanced beings. there's ZERO POSSIBLE WAY she did not know about what was happening. which means she was, again, either an incompetent leader or a racist ( like she is in the comics ). because him being in prison for 30 years means it had to have been a prison that could contain a super soldier, could test competently on super soldiers, and had the ability to erase everything about him. *aka shield.* so either ALL OF THAT happened right under her nose or she stood back and let them do that to him.

sharon didn't ruin peggy's legacy. peggy didn't have a legacy being a good person to begin with. which is FINE because she's a government agent, but it's absolutely NO excuse to use her " golden accomplishments " to justify your vile treatment of sharon carter and it never has been.

[hops-hunny]

Pride Lost, Feelings Found

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: They/Them

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: @summerstardust  “Could you do a Neville with a gender neutral reader. It can fluff/smut/bit of both 🤷, whatever you want. With the prompts: 4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?”, 12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.” and 17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Maybe where Neville is secretly crushing on the reader from afar and the reader is told, in some way, about this and he just runs away from the scene. Then the reader follows and finds him and tells him that they want to get to know him.

Don’t feel pressured to use this idea, though. I am just feeling a bit angsty at the moment. Thank you! :)”

Summary: It all crumbles down before Neville’s eyes, but it’s replaced with something he’d never expect.

Warnings: angst but it turns to fluff!!

A/N: Ok ok, if you want a part 2 with what happens after reader says that? Lmk and I’ll probably write it! I’m so sorry this took so long esp for one of my favorite readers. I hope you enjoy <3

4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?” 

12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.” 

17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Sometimes Neville wish he had never noticed (Y/n). But when you shine as bright as they did, how couldn't you notice? They bewitching, enchanting everyone around them with a simple smile, him included. However when miracles as amazing as (Y/n) come to be, so does a lot of attention. He adored everything about them, the way they always smeared their ink on their scroll when they wrote, how they’d walk into class every morning with that same sleepy expression, even down to the way they’d always have to pull their socks up because they got the wrong size and they’d fall down. They was his dream partner. But sadly, that’s the thing about dream lovers, they’re meant to stay dreams.

From as long as Neville could remember, he had been on the bottom of the social ladder. Hell, when your familiar (who is also a toad) causes a wild goose chase during your first years at a new school, it’s really not hard to understand why. If it had been someone else instead of him, he would've made fun of them too. He was a loser and no one would ever let him forget. Not his friends, not Malfoy, not anyone. But they did. In all his years at Hogwarts, (Y/n) had never made him feel like a loser. Every interaction the two of them had made him feel normal, like himself.

Granted every interaction they had was small. Accidentally bumping into them in the halls, a tight lip smile when eye contact was made. One time he thought (Y/n) was waving to him but was in fact waving to their friend behind him but luckily they hadn't seen (Malfoy definitely did..). Out of all the people who could have noticed the way he looked at them or the way his cheeks would turn red when they'd pass him it had to be Malloy. That was awful for a multitude of reasons. One being that for some reason, (L/n) and Malfoy were the best of friends. Everyday he wished that it was him who got sat next to them in potions instead of that weasel of a boy. The second reason being that despite knowing how Neville felt for them, he still had yet to do anything with the information. To most people, they’d be relieved if Malfoy found out one of their most personal pieces of information and had yet to do anything but, Neville knew better. Draco was a vile creature and if he hadn’t teased him about it yet, that surely meant something even greater was coming. Something truly awful and devastating. 

The first week after Malfoy found out had Neville staying up to the break of dawn, stirring around restlessly at the thought of what he’d do. Would he spill something on him when he was set to have a class with them, tape a note to the back of his shirt with the information on it, or worse...no, no. Not even Malfoy was cruel enough to do that! If anything, if he was going to tell (Y/n) he’d probably do it when Neville wasn’t around so they could come up to him and reject him at random. Although it was sad, what got Neville to sleep at night was imagining that they already knew. That (Y/n) was more than aware and it was only a matter of time till they’d reject him and his life would go back to normal without any pesky thoughts of how beautiful he found them to be.

--------------------------------

Seamus’s words went in one of Neville’s ears and right back out of the other, sounding like white noise to the boy. He couldn’t listen to whatever idiotic thing he was going on about. How could he when (Y/n) was a few feet away, looking just as gorgeous as they usually did? It was hard not to focus on them, the way their pretty lips would curl into a smile, giggling at something one of their friends had said. He felt a smile grace his own lips at the sight, letting out a noise of protest as Ron chucked a cushion at his head.

“Are you even, listening Longbottom?” he heard him ask, still not ripping his eyes away from the (y/h/h) across the hall.

“You think they look at me? Am I invisible?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he was to speak any louder, they would somehow hear them despite them being so far away. Seamus let out a loud snort, beginning to cackle as he slapped the boy on the back a bit too hard.

“Fat chance, Longbottom! You think (L/n) would notice you? They wouldn’t even notice me, and that’s saying something!” Seamus wheezed out. Neville shot him a pointed glare, fuming from the boy’s words. He shoved him off the couch, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not that people don’t notice you Seamus….it’s that they do for all the wrong reasons.” Dean pointed out, causing the other 3 to laugh, growing louder as Seamus failed to push himself off the ground. 

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.” he froze at the sound of the cold voice, turning around to look at the platinum blonde prince himself. Draco stood their, smirking. Crabbe and Goyle tried to nod along when in reality, they had no idea what their leader was going on about. Neville gulped, standing up to face him completely.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked him, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Draco simply shrugged, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. He turned around briefly looking the boy up and down.

“Means exactly what I said. Nothing more, nothing less. Well as much as I’d love to stay around and lose brain cells with you idiots, I’ve got better things to attend to.” and with that he left.

“Don’t worry, Nev. Draco is always just talk, I’m sure nothing will come of it.” Harry said, offering the boy a reassuring smile. Although Neville knew he meant well, he couldn’t stop the sinking, tight feeling in his chest. Draco had yet to do something so he had no reason to feel this way, but it was just a hunch that the worst was yet to come.

Even hours later, as Neville lay in his bed that night, all he could think about were the words that echoed throughout his head over and over.

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.”

He didn’t know if he was grateful for how vague that was or if it was the bane of his days. Draco could’ve meant anything by that, all he knew is whatever it meant the intent behind his words were less than kind. He turned again, sighing as he looked out the window. There was a full moon tonight, a beautiful silver halo of light dancing its way around it. 

“Merlin, save me please.” he pleaded quietly, to no one in particular. Every bit of hope, every positive thought laced in his words. Although he prepared for the worse to happen, he had a sliver of hope that it wouldn’t. That tomorrow he’d wake up and his day would be as mundane as usual, just the way he’d like it. And if he was lucky (Y/n) would give him a small smile in the hall.

---------------------------

Neville’s small sliver of hope had grown into an entire cake. Looking back on earlier in the week, he was worried for absolutely nothing! Malfoy once again was all bark and no bite which for once, he was glad for! He let out a sigh of content as he made his way from the library, heading in the direction of the main corridor. He saw Seamus give him an uncharacteristically serious look from the small crowd that was gathered around something. As he grew closer, in the middle of the circle he saw Draco stood on a crate as (Y/n) sat next to him, listening as he read something from a paper. 

“Nev, you might wanna...might wanna leave.” Seamus whispered to him. However, he looked as people stared at him, some giggling while some look sympathetic.

“Why? What’s going o-”

“Here’s another one I found in his bin! ‘Dear (Y/n), although I’ll never give you this letter, I can’t help but write about how amazing you are! When I saw you help that injured bird the other day, I wanted nothing more than to help you tend to it. I find it funny how even when you’re sad, you manage to brighten up my day.’ God how dorky is this loser? I can’t believe he fancies you so much (Y/n)!” Draco howled in laughter, a few others joining him. Neville found himself at the forefront of the circle, frozen in his spot. That was his letter! He had started writing them as a way of coping with his feelings, knowing that the person he fancied would always be out of reach of him. “Anything to say for yourself, Longbottom?”

Neville felt tears well in his eyes, the warmth of them mixing with the heat of his red flushed face. “I...I..” he looked at (Y/n) who look like they had something to say however, he didn’t wanna stick around to hear it. Without another word, he ran off, tears streaming down his face as soon as he was far enough from anyone. In his time of despair, he ran to his only place of comfort. The one place that he wasn’t Neville, the loser who just had his feelings ripped from safe keeping in front of half the students in his year. The place where he was just Neville.

He took in a deep breath of the familiar muggy air of the greenhouse, relaxing slightly as he took a seat on the ground. “God I’m so stupid!” he wailed, tears flowing down his face. His crying grew harder, harsh hiccups shaking and jolting his body as he screamed into his knees. He knew there was a matter of time before (Y/n) was to find out, he just didn’t know it’d be like this. If this was just the pain from them learning about his feelings, he didn’t wanna know how bad he’d be wounded when they came to reject him. Neville’s head jolted up at the sound of soft footsteps making their way over to him. He noticed the familiar pair of black shoes, turning his head as they kneeled down in front of him.

“I thought you may be here! You always seemed so passionate about plants during herbology so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check here first.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on the boy’s knee. He looked down at where they connected, feeling his face flush slightly from the contact. “You know, your friends care about you a lot. After you ran off, Ginny came up and socked Draco straight in the face. It was quite a sight really.” they let out a soft giggle at the memory. “Hermione went in to drag her off but when she saw how smug Draco looked, she couldn’t help but to join in. While they did that, your other friends set off looking for you and I did too.”

“Why?” he asked, catching their attention. The (y/h/h) gave him a confused look, tilting their head to the side. “Why did you come looking for me? Don’t you hate me now? Gross, stupid Longbottom having a crush on Hogwart’s sweetheart. How pathetic, huh?” he sniffled, ripping his eyes away from them. He knew if he was to continue to look, a completely new set of tears would be triggered.

“Why wouldn’t I? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t! Although I don’t know much about you, I do know you’re a kind individual and you didn’t deserve what Draco did to you.” they said in a soft tone, moving into the spot next to Neville. They sat in silence for a moment before (Y/n) cleared their throat, looking over at him once more. “How long?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, how long have you liked me for? I wasn’t even aware until today.” they queried curiously.

“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed. I don’t blame you for not noticing though, we’re from two different worlds. You’ve got everyone in hogwarts begging for a moment of your time and you hang out with some of the most elite and prestigious people in the castle.” he sniffled some, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he set his hand down on the cold cement ground. “It was stupid of me to let my feelings last for so long.”

“Why was it stupid?” they asked, scooting closer to him. Neville turned to look at them, losing his breath at their closeness.

“Because you don’t feel the same..not that I expected you to. You didn’t even know I existed until today.” he let out a huff of air. (Y/n) bit the inside of their cheek before placing their hand on top of Neville’s, tangling their fingers together.

“You’re right, I don’t feel the same,” they started, tightening their grip as the boy began to get up. “But that doesn’t mean I never will. Let’s get to know each other a bit more.” they leaned in closer, the feeling of both of their breath being exchanged like whispers amongst their lips. 

“Make me fall in love with you.”

TAGSLIST:@vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff  @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou​ 

@nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend​ @redpanda-poetry​ @vibingaesthetically​

[fiiore]

hey is that lorenzo zurzolo? no, that’s just fiore gattuso. they’re twenty one, and have spent two years in dayton. i hear that they’re kind of determined but also can be narcissistic. black nail polish and piercing blue eyes remind me of him. can’t wait to see them at the next party!

warning: this intro contains a lot of mature/triggering content such as homophobia, emotional and physical abuse, mental illness implication, and probably a lot more. i’ve tried tagging everything accordingly, but if you see something i missed, please feel free to dm me!

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: fiore emiliano luca gattuso ( first name pronounced fee-oh-reh, also see here ! ) ⟶ nicknames: usually just goes by fiore, his cousin will jokingly call him fiorella or fifi , some people might even say…. flower boy ( fiore literally…. means flower in italian 😳 ) ⟶ three things he likes: people who smell good and have general good hygiene, seth rogen, tiramisu gelato ⟶ three things he dislikes: dirty fingernails, people who are actually very wealthy but are super cheap, cracked phone screens ⟶ gender: cis male ⟶ height: 5 ‘ 8 ⟶ age: 21 ⟶ birthday: june 13, 2001 ⟶ zodiac: gemini sun, aries moon, libra ascendant ⟶ right handed or left handed: left handed ⟶ eye color: baby blue ⟶ hair color: brown ⟶ piercings and tattoos: a cartilage piercing on his right ear, usually covered by his hair, and a small gemini symbol tattoo on his left wrist ⟶ languages spoken: italian ( native tongue ), spanish, and english ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: homosexual / homoromantic ⟶ place of birth: positano, italy ⟶ hometown: rome, italy ⟶ last five songs listened to: testa tra le nuvole pt.1 by alfa, sei bella come roma by dandy turner, caught you boy ( i want you ) by lana del rey, completamente by thegiornnalisti, 16 marzo by achille lauro ft. gow tribe ⟶ five aesthetics: several golden rings on thin fingers with black nail polish to match, always looking on fleek regardless of the situation, a flirtatious smile, a soft italian accent when speaking english, being late to literally everything ⟶ character inspo: kat hernandez from euphoria ( big muse! ), maeby funke from arrested development ( also big muse! ), lucrecia montesinos from elite 

background story ;

so fiore was born to a spanish mother named martina belmonte and a fully italian father named gian gattuso in the village positano, in southern italy. they later moved to rome when he was around four years old. his family? basically comes from really old money. so old, they really don’t even know where it came from? point is, they’re a very well off bunch. his mother is into politics and has her own line of hair and skin care products, and his father owns companies worldwide, of just about everything. gas, water, electric, fashion, food industries, you name it, his name is on it.

fiore grew up with anything he’s ever wanted ( materialistically, of course ). apart from that, his parents were, how you say…. awful? like no beating around the bush, they were awful. his mother’s businesses’ were legit, but they were also used to secretly wash money. his father treated his employees like garbage. they were both awful individuals, but his father however, had to be the worst for him. he had a very old school way of thinking, the whole the man brings the money into the relationship mentality, this dumb idea that men couldn’t show their feelings because they would be labeled as weak, a super religious mindset that honestly? was toxic masculinity at it’s absolute finest. very gross and vile behavior

they were people who expected a lot out of their only son, which made fiore feel an insane amount of pressure from the very start. he showed characteristics lots of boys his age didn’t show at a super young age. he did things like peeing while sitting down instead of standing up, he preferred to play with dolls instead of toys specifically for boys, favored the color pink, got along better with girls, preferred to watch shows that were considered ‘girly’, etc, etc.

they were very harmless things honestly, things that most parents would laugh about or just turn a blind eye at. however, fiore really wasn’t that lucky when it came to the people who bought him into the world. any time he would do anything they claimed a ‘normal boy wouldn’t do’, he would get a huge lecture, and a beating to go with it. needless to say, he learned to hide a lot of who he really was very early on

he did a lot of things to seek the approval of his parents. he wasn’t smart academically ( dumb boi 101 tbh ), but he tried to make them happy in other ways. fiore was never fond of sports at all, but he started playing tennis when he was five, because it made his parents less vile towards him. truth be told, he hated tennis with every fiber of his being  but again, he did this, simply because it satisfied his parents

he grew up trying to be the perfect son, often times putting himself in situations he didn’t want to be in or felt uncomfortable doing because he wanted them to be proud of him, but honestly? it was like? never enough. he could single handedly be the best person at anything he does, but it never made his parents happy. it was all smiles for the pictures, but behind closed doors, he really was pretty damn miserable. he was basically the perfect example of money doesn’t buy real happiness, because he had anything materialistic anybody could ever want, but he was not a happy kid

simply put, he’s always known he like boys. it wasn’t even one of those cases where he’s super confused and assumes it’s just a phase or is in deep denial or whatever, nope, he has literally always known, clear as day. and this, along with how his parents were in general, really made him depressed because he knew the way he felt wouldn’t be cool with them. if anything, he was terrified of how they would react if they ever found out about his feelings, so, as unhealthy as it sounds, he buried that shit. his perfectly normal feelings? buried, stashed away as if it’s something he should be ashamed about. the saddest part is though…. he totally was ashamed. his entire upbringing, he was just told it was wrong. religion was an excuse that was always used, but it was more of the whole ‘oh my god, what would everyone think?’ type thing. he grew up with the idea that the image people have of him and his family is everything, because this was pushed upon him since he could remember. again , he felt this insane amount of pressure to look and act perfect, and this, along with hiding his true feelings, secretly drove him insane

his life consisted of mostly just doing things he didn’t want to do. between tennis, cotillion classes he was forced to take, tutoring because he wasn’t academically intelligent whatsoever, the upperclass parties he was forced to attend with his parents, speaking to kids he actually couldn’t stand…. it all drained him. even things he liked doing, like playing piano, all seemed like a chore to him, because of all the pressure he was under. he just kept acting perfect, like his life was perfect and everything was okay, and fiore was so damn cynical and charming that he made everyone believe he was having the time of his life, when really? people didn’t know the half of it

it isn’t until he’s fifteen that his life kind of changes. his parents have been friends with this other family who was in their social class since fiore could remember, and they had a daughter fiore’s age, named luna  maybe you can see where this is going, but if not…. they’ve always wanted fiore and her to date. their mother’s were pregnant at the same time and would talk about their wedding type thing, fiore and her have known each other since they were in diapers, and this would all be super cute if he wasn’t like, secretly super fucking gay? but it was around this age that they kind of started pushing for them to hang out more, with the pure intention of them getting together. like ‘fiore has tennis practice, maybe luna can come with and you guys can go see a movie later?’ or ‘fiore, luna knows this great pizza place she can totally take you to’

basically…. kind of forcing them to hang out, and you know, fiore definitely tried. he would pick her up after school, they would go see movies together, they would exchange music back and forth, and he thought she was really, really cool, but he just was not into her like that. and again, he really did try? he kept telling himself that maybe if he holds his breath when he hugs her, the strong scent of her perfume wouldn’t nauseate him. that maybe one day, he would like how much smaller her hand was compared to his. that maybe he would come to enjoy how long her hair is, but like…. he actually could not? he was just not into her at all no matter how much he tried to be…. sad boi realization hours tbh

and one day when they’re at his house, alone, she tries to kiss him, and he doesn’t know what comes over him but dude kind of just pulls away and says ‘i’m gay!’ without even thinking about it, and i shit you not, her actual response? ‘oh, i figured that out. i just wanted to hear you say it’, and strangely enough, from that point on, they become best friends. she didn’t tell anyone what he told her, and she’s literally the first person he’s ever come out to

his life only gets, dare i say, spicier, from that point on. it’s two days after his sixteenth birthday when he’s going over to luna’s house to pick her up so they can hang out. now just imagine his surprise when the person who opens the door is some handsome shirtless stranger he’s never seen before. as it turns out, luna has an older brother, alessio, who fiore has never met before because he went to a boarding school in london and mostly lived with their grandparents. now this dude was actually the most attractive man fiore has ever seen. he actually just stands there and stares at him for a second because he can’t believe how handsome he is

to make a long story short, after weeks of sexual tension between them, they finally start messing around behind closed doors. fiore tried to avoid it, but his simp ass just gave in. he just couldn’t really hide his feelings anymore. it’s this whole secret summer romance, the only other person knowing the truth between them being luna. it turns into more than just a summer thing though when alessio decides to start the school year in italy, leaving behind the school he went to in london, literally all for fiore. obviously he gave a whole different reason when asked why he did what he did, but the real reason? definitely fiore

they’re together for two years, secretly, of course. fiore was legit in love with this guy. they were both young, but he knew he loved him. and they would have been together forever and probably run off somewhere to get married if it wasn’t for one single thing that fucked everything up

one day, fiore and him are walking back from his tennis practice. this is a time where fiore knows no one is home and no one is coming home for a while, so when they get to his house and see his father’s car parked outside, he low key panics a little. alessio leaves, but little does fiore know, this is the last time he would ever see him

his father asks him to come upstairs and surprisingly, leads him into his room. this is when fiore’s entire life practically changes forever. his father turns on his tv and legit starts playing his sex tape, with none other than alessio. just picture this though; your extremely homophobic, close minded and hateful father and you sitting on your bed, watching your gay sex tape with your boyfriend, who happens to be the son of your parents’ closest friends

obviously, this news isn’t well taken by his father. he gets his ass beat. like, literally almost dies type shit. he’s definitely been beat by his father before, but the truth is that it was never that brutal. he knew neither his mother or father would be okay with everything, but he didn’t think it would be that bad. this is definitely one of the lowest points in his life

it’s like they knew about it for a moment too because everything kind of just seems like they planned it with time? his plane ticket to california, his living arrangements with his cousin when he gets there, their very hurtful speech…. it’s like they thought about all of this. they tell him that if he wants to do ‘gross shit like that’, that he’s going to do it very far away from them. that he’s no longer going to be a responsibility for them, that they can’t believe he would even think to embarrass them that way and they couldn’t even imagine anyone finding out…. basically gets disowned and sent away, forced to leave the city he’s lived in all his life

it doesn’t really take an expert to figure out that fiore did not take this move well at all. for a while, he was really depressed. he wouldn’t go out at all and would just lay in bed for the longest time, his english was kind of ass as well. he appreciated what his cousin was doing for him by letting him live with him ( even though he didn’t know the real story ), but he just couldn’t get over what happened. after about the second month of just feeling sorry for himself, it was his cousin who snapped him back to reality

he got him a job at the pizza place he works in, but fiore began to realize how much he despised working. his entire life, he received everything he’s ever wanted on a golden plater with solid gold spoons, he’s always had everything without working for it, so this? he was for sure not used to it at all. his life completely changed. he went from living in a two story mansion in the most prestigious part of rome to living in a very shitty part of california, broke almost always, and working a job he hated with everything he had, splitting rent with his cousin

he didn’t want that for himself. he was trying to not be judgmental, but he simply couldn’t live like this, he refused. it wasn’t until he went out clubbing one night ( fake id and all ), that one of his friends really opened his eyes, showed him the wonders of being a sugar baby and conning people. they walked into the place with twenty bucks and left with four thousand dollars

quickly, fiore began to learn his friends’ ways. he just put himself out there. he opened up an instagram account and gained recognition after being tagged in several pictures with all these influencers with over three million followers each. his looks, his rather charming personality, and his thick italian accent helped him tremendously. he learned so fast that he could easily have the lifestyle he was so used to, using his looks to his advantage. soon enough, he was conning and finessing the fuck out of all these older men ( and sometimes women ) for their money. he would basically act like the boy of their dreams, everything sweet, then just steal their money and ghost. sometimes, he wouldn’t even have to do all that, he just had these older guys willing to buy him anything and spoil him in exchange for his company. i mean sometimes he would steal but it came up to a point where he really didn’t have to? he just had to look cute and act affectionate and he was getting whatever he wanted

on top of that, his instagram account was blowing up. he wasn’t just getting money from lonely old guys, but he was also making money off his social media accounts. sponsorships, a modeling contract, pretty much making money off his look . he’s also done some camboy stuff, but he wore a mask ( think kat hernandez from euphoria! ), like…. he became obsessed with how fast he could make money because he’s cute. he was just in love with the idea that dudes he didn’t even know online were sending him money because they think he’s hot. eventually, he began making enough money up to the point where he pushed his cousin into stocks and they eventually moved out of their crappy apartment and into a luxury house. fiore just wants to live the opulent life he’s always been used to

he’s just making money off his appearance at this point, whether it be guys spoiling him, or his social media accounts, or whatever it is, but he’s literally just living his luxury life doing what he wants and he’s just getting paid for his looks, and the content he posts? kind of an empty minded mentality, but he really doesn’t care. he’s living his dream of not working at all and still having a fuck ton of money so he couldn’t be happier. he just wants to live off his physical appearance and that’s legit exactly what he’s doing and honestly? we kind of have to stan

there is still a part of fiore that has a lot of issues and trauma. honestly mommy and daddy issues as fuck, but he doesn’t talk about this at all. it’s actually really funny because he’s pretty popular on social media, but no one really knows anything about his personal life? he literally refuses to talk about anything that happened to him before he was eighteen. it’s actually kind of wild because you can have very long conversations with him, but it’s kind of all outside things? in the sense that you can have a three hour chat with him, laughing and all, thinking you’re getting close to him, but when he gets up to leave, after like five minutes of him being gone, it’ll kind of hit you like holy fuck, i don’t know anything about this guy? he’s way too good at asking you about yourself and avoiding talking about his personal life altogether. you can tell him your entire life story but realize you literally don’t even know his middle name

he’s also super good at getting what he wants, super fucking sneaky. he will dead ass plant this thought in your head, but he’ll circle it so much, it’ll seem like the entire thing was your idea to begin with. he can be super manipulative but he’s so nonchalant about it that you won’t even notice. like nah , that wasn’t your idea... he’s been feeding it to you for weeks now to make you think it is

in a way, he is kind of relieved with everything that happened with his parents because now, he’s completely free to be himself and do whatever the fuck he wants, knowing very well they can’t really touch him anymore. of course, it still left a mark that he’s never going to be able to erase or forget ( both in his heart and on his body too ), but he feels free for once in his life and he’s kind of happier now, still low key needs therapy because he has some serious issues and problems tbh but what are you gonna do about it LOL

relationship wise, he really doesn’t commit to anyone. after practically being forced to leave his now ex boyfriend, he kind of feels like he doesn’t deserve love? it’s really fucked up but he’s genuinely convinced that no one is ever going to really love him or want to be with him so he just avoids any real romantic relationship of any kind. this is probably why he uses older rich guys the way he does, because he knows he can get as much as he wants out of them and in a way, he feels like he’s using them so they can’t use him? he also knows he’s never going to really love any of those guys, so he feels like they’re safe for him to use and manipulate to his liking. i mean he’s a major fucking hoe and will hook up with any hot guy whether they’re rich or not because BOYS BOYS BOYS, but he will definitely leave them before they can leave him. he’s the type to leave before you even wake up type shit…. we hate him tbh

deep down, he really does want to be loved. he wants an actual boyfriend and all that lovey gooey shit he had with alessio, but he’s just a scared little bitch. dude has fucking issues. like actual trauma that he can’t get over so he just keeps having meaningless sex and doing what he wants because he wants to be in control... again, get a fucking therapist fiore holy fuck

he has become a huge narcissist. he’s genuinely obsessed with his physical appearance, no lie. you will never see this man wearing sweats or half assing it. he always wants to look good, regardless of the occasion. in a way, it’s because he secretly feels like he has nothing else to offer besides being hot, so he dwells on this shit. has an extensive skin care routine, loves painting his nails, always has his hair cut nicely and dresses straight out of a magazine…. dude has to look good he doesn’t care

he’s also a huge fucking liar, can be super deceiving. he will have zero reason to lie but he’ll lie anyways. his narcissism and lying are literally a defense mechanism, like for the millionth time man…. go to therapy lmfao

he enjoys drinking and smoking weed as well, though he definitely prefers to drink. dude loves himself a huge ass cup of wine! he refuses to do anything else because he claims doing anything else is going to ‘ruin his good looks and youth’. he’s also a pretty good cook and knows how to bake, but this is a rather hidden talent of his. he’s mostly learned this because he’s a picky ass eater and wants to eat stuff his way, but he actually really likes it now? like making food or desserts is actually a relaxing hobby of his, he even knows how to make some really potent edibles which is actually pretty dope. don’t get him started on his alcohol soaked gummies because they come out fantastic as well

this is another secret of his but fiore? is actually secretly blind as fuck KJNCDNVCD like one of his many secrets. has a vision of 20/50, nearly 20/60, but hasn’t worn glasses since he was seven, pretty much doing everything with contacts. he just thinks glasses look unattractive on him and honestly refuses to let anyone see him with them on, basically only takes off his contacts to sleep type shit. it’s not even an embarrassing thing but he just hates it? honestly considers it to be one of his worst flaws, being blind as shit. no one has ever seen him with glasses on and the only person who even knows he has vision as bad as he does is his cousin 🤡

he has a ragdoll cat he found when he was two months old in a dumpster and he drunkenly named him draco meowfoy. he’s one year old now and fiore is actually in love with him. like…. that’s his baby legit

when he was younger, as punishment whenever he misbehaved, his father would lock him in the trunk of his car, for several hours. because of this and his childhood, he’s really claustrophobic. he can’t do tight spaces because he will literally freak out, have an actual panic attack. i’m sure if he ever gets trapped in an elevator, he would probably pass out with how not okay he would be KJFHNJDVN i think just thinking about shit he’s been through makes him have random mental break downs? he’ll say he’s over it but he’s definitely not bless

also just a random little fact, but his name, fiore, actually translates to flower in italian. his surname, gattuso, derives from the italian word gatto, which means cat, so when you think about it, his name? is dead ass flower cat, and ironically enough? his dream is to start his own clothing brand, with that exact name bless him

this is all i’m gonna write now because this got long as hell, but below are some wanted connections and his birthchart!

wanted connections ;

i bet i can’t remember you... no, i actually really can’t remember you: this is a messy connection, but give me a guy he drunkenly gave a blowjob to at a party and genuinely cannot recall doing it. your muse probably remembers it but fiore? watch him go damn that’s crazy... who are you again?

you can’t stand me you say? then sit on my face: ahh, the i hate you so much but we always end up sleeping together connection. someone who really can’t stand him yet they end up having sex anyways. watch his narcissistic ass go ‘you love me’ ( no you’re annoying af )

why are we friends? look at the shoes you’re wearing: very very unlikely friends, friends who have no idea how they even ended up becoming friends, but are friends anyways, watch him tell this unfortunate soul all his gay adventures

we bonded over our pets: became friends because they both have pets, they could have cute little playdates with their pets because he actually has the chillest cat alive, gets along with everyone

you’re the most irritating person i’ve ever met: someone who genuinely can’t stand him whatsoever. at all. not even a little bit. it’s very easy to hate him because he’s the worst so i don’t even blame this person

i hate that i don’t hate you: an unrequited crush. an unfortunate soul who likes him but he’s just the worst. he’s also the stupidest person ever, so he would be completely oblivious to this crush as well

let’s talk shit about everyone in the room: besties who trash talk everyone, no one is free from the mouth of these two. watch someone walk in with sweats and get roasted for absolutely no reason at all

or, we can brainstorm!

birthchart ;

[yuraimi-lee-bunny]

Gray’s Character Analysis Part II. Empathy vs Ambition

Hello! Sorry if it took me a while to show the next part of my Gray’s analysis, but this part was a bit difficult for me especially in what order I should give it. You'll see what I mean as soon as you read. This part is going to be a little longer than the previous one and will explain some issues not only about Gray, but also about Carmen and VILE in general.

Thank you very much for the support of the previous analysis and I hope you like this too! Here we go!

As we already know, Gray is an orphan. And yes, it’s important to understand certain behaviors and ways of thinking about him. First, I want to explain a small detail of Black Sheep/Carmen so that Gray's decisions are understood in greater depth once he’s in VILE and his ease of trying to go far (and even the position of almost all VILE agents would also be understood usually)

Why does Carmen think and feel different compared to all VILE and especially Gray?

Simple: Empathy.

Now, it doesn't mean that Carmen is the only one who has empathy and others don't. Rather, Carmen's level of empathy is greater, deeper and broader. What caused it? Living in VILE was the first.

Yes, surprisingly it was that, VILE created her own "enemy" since they decided to give her a home on the former Island of VILE when she was a pretty baby. From the first episode, Carmen relates how stealing was a game for her and VILE Faculty was like her family in some way, especially Coach Brunt because her relationship was "mother/daughter." The other members of the faculty treated her well, they taught her the culture of thier countries and around the world, they gave her food and clothing, a large home, basic education and also living with many VILE students. But Black Sheep only knew the "basics" about VILE, because she lived with the belief that they only taught to steal all over the world, just a "the game of cat and mouse" but it didn't harm anyone, or so she believed.

Another very important factor helped Black Sheep's empathy to expand: Player. That's right, our little favorite hacker was very influential on her. First, because he was the first person she met, empathized and talked about her life outside of VILE. Black Sheep always wanted to know the world outside the island, and Player was his first contact outside the world, and a white hat hacker, his abilities used for good. Black Sheep never saw that as something bad or like a "enemy". On the contrary, he was her friend and appreciated him very much.

Last important factor: The archaeologist's words:

Black Sheep, the one who didn’t know anything about her roots, about her family, thought about how she wouldn’t like someone or an entire country and it’s people to live the same as her: not to know a part of her life. These factors caused that Black Sheep's empathy was different from that of VILE and her agents.

The other agents, although we don’t know their lives completely, the fact that we know that they’re orphans is enough to give us a glimpse that their lives haven’t been easy. The reasons why one can be orphaned are many, which can lead to sad experiences, hard, full of pain, others not of course, but being an orphan is to carry a great mark on your life. And in the end one must survive and get what he needs by his own hands if you are alone. But maybe have a brother, have a life partner, in these cases a brother/sister, can change everything, because you no longer feel alone in life, and you can create a bond of empathy, like Zach and Ivy. Or maybe not, like Shadowsan and his brother.

Sorry if it seems that I'm moving away from Gray, but I need you to understand how the VILE agents don't have a great connection and their empathy is lower because they don't know (or perhaps they do and not having good consequences) about their roots. To experience rejection more than once and for years. Of not having had a "family" or person to help them connect with the world and thereby seek and understand other people. Perhaps most of them had to survive alone. Or they got together with people of bad influences as seen with Shadowsan. They didn't have or lived the points that I mentioned about Carmen, or maybe they did, and even so they wanted to steal for mere enjoyment and get money easily. Everything is possible.

The fact that the faculty recruits students over 16 (it seems that it's from the age of 20 or is an approximate) is a great plan because it's 20 years of a habit of only trusting you, seeing for you and stealing for you, there comes a point where you live it with more enjoyment/play than just "surviving". A "vocational school" will provide you with a home, food, appreciate you for your stealing skills, without being without any communication, living for a year on an island, with people who have in common being an orphan and stealing, feeding your enjoyment of theft , that the faculty helps you find and develop skills to achieve a successful robbery, continuing to see it as a game and now see it in a professional way, which will make you survive forever, generates the idea that “it's okay to do it ”And you do it together like a family.

Graham and Black Sheep understood each other very easily and enjoyed spending time together most of the time. Antonio, Jean Paul and Sheena also considered them his friends, but not as close as Black Sheep. They communicated just by looking at each other, they understood each other easily, and they covered their backs. How to forget when as long as they didn't expel Black Sheep, Graham lied to the Faculty. He reassured her as long as he trusted that he would pass the exam and graduate from her. He felt very bad to realized that they wouldn’t graduate together. Gray somehow began to develop an empathy for Black Sheep. In the book he mentions to Black Sheep in detention: 

“I know they say there is no loyalty between thieves, but we’re in this together right? I have always taken care of you”

Which shows that he appreciated her a lot, but being on the island and under their ideals, made him think that everything was to be in a “family”, everything was loyalty, he didn't realize it could be more than loyalty, but appreciation, the beginning of great empathy. He really knew her very well, her goals, her desire to be the best thief and always improve herself. He knew Black Sheep, but not the factors that would make her Carmen Sandiego.

The next thing I will say is more of a theory/assumption, not a fact: As I mentioned in the previous analysis, Gray is someone who wants to be successful, he's always going to prove it to himself and will give everything to achieve it. Being an orphan, perhaps he has affected him in some way, that at some point in his life he decided to just see for himself and show that he can be successful and that nothing would stop him. He's ambitious. But when he met Black Sheep, his empathy grew more, however, a “struggle” began within him between his ambition and his love for Black Sheep, a person outside his life, but who has lived with her so much that your appreciation is big. A fight, of which, throughout the whole series, Gray will never be aware, but with acts it is always demonstrated.

There is a sentence from him in the second episode that I always found very curious:

This is cute and talks about how much he appreciates Black Sheep to mention her well-being first.

"Criminal Career" Do you realize how much Crackle has thought about it? He doesn't see being in VILE as a game or something. He sees it as a "Career". Something tells me that if it were up to him, he would have set his sights on a position at the faculty. That he would be willing to do anything to achieve it.

At least as far as I'm concerned, Crackle wasn't going to kill the archaeologist because he's evil, or because he doesn't have absolute empathy, it's because he always tests himself to achieve his goals, for him, to start with his criminal career, was to abide by ALL the rules of VILE. He somehow affirms it:

Did he want to be successful? Did he want to have a great criminal career? He had to do EVERYTHING.

BUT!

His empathy reminder was there

and was still there

This, this expression says it all (This expression was the one that convinced me that Crackle wasn’t bad at all and from then on no one moved me from that belief). Deep down, Crackle wasn't so convinced of going that far either. Something in him, the empathy in him spoke and made him feel that such acts were too much for him. Carmen's words reached him. Deep down, he felt she was right. But what could he do? Although he listened to all of Carmen's story, even his ambition and all that year in VILE resonated more with him. Because he hasn’t lived experiences of strong empathy as Carmen already lived.

His goals are very big, he commits himself to them at any cost. But there is also still a place for her in his heart. Unfortunately, we don’t know in detail (or rather nothing) of how he reacted when Black Sheep managed to escape from VILE. But when he and Carmen Sandiego meet on the train, he asks so many questions because he doesn't understand what led her to do all this. As I said before: he didn’t know the factors that I mentioned at the beginning, and there was no time for them to talk about it. He no longer recognizes her, he only has his memories of Black Sheep and of course he misses her, but he doesn't understand that she is no longer Black Sheep, she is Carmen Sandiego:

He told her that because he believed that she was still thinking like Black Sheep, but no more.

I always liked this scene because it shows how Carmen is in the light and Gray is in the dark.

I can only say that he didn’t want to do it, he only did on VILE's orders, because of his ambition that he was almost going too far. But deep down he didn't want to, if only there was a proof… oh, yes there is, but this is not the time to move on to it ;D

In the end and as we know, Carmen defeats Crackle and she uses him to distract Devineaux. This is caught by the police, VILE saves him, and he "regrets" not having caught Carmen (he’s relieved that he had not killed her rather. Crackle NEVER wanted to.)

BUT

VILE can accept failures, but not be trapped by the Law.

So Crackle, since you've lived so many years for your goals and ambitions, let's see what happens to live as little as 18 months with just pure empathy.

It would be all with this part! Geez, I feel that I wrote a lot but it was necessary to tell all this! Believe me that doing this is making me better connect my ideas and understand better to Gray. I hope it’s also helping you, you like it and it makes you reflect. I want to know what they think and if they have any other points of view. I love talking about analysis with more people. The next part for sure will be shorter, but still very important, it’s the safest that if they have it in two days. Greetings!

Part. I Introdution

Part. II Empathy vs Ambition (HERE)

Part. III Amnesia and it’s Future Consequences

Part. III.5 Graham Calloway: The Walking Enigma

Part. IV Integrity At a high (and unfair) price

Part. V The final decision and a new beginning

Plus 1. Gray and his strange habit of explaining things

Plus 2. Crossover: Sabrina And Gray: New Beginning

Plus 3. Crossover: Hawk/Eli and Crackle/Gray: Redemption

[fanmoose12]

Levi just couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t believe that his ship – a legendary Wings of Freedom, the pride of the British armada – was ambushed. He couldn’t believe that he – an experienced captain and famed veteran – along with his crew of the most skilled soldiers in the whole sea force was captured.

By fucking pirates. Stinking, dirty pirates.

Levi was enraged, he was humiliated, and most of all, he was confused.

How those fuckers managed to approach their ship undetected? How did they get on it unnoticed? And how could that woman, their captain, get inside his private chambers?

Levi was an extremely light sleeper. Years in army and, before that, years of living on the street had taught him that it was an essential skill. The smallest of noise, the quietest creak could wake him up.

But somehow this woman managed to open the door, walk inside his room and stand directly above him, as he kept peacefully slumbering. Only when she pressed a cold dagger to his throat, only then Levi woke up.

And as he opened his eyes, he was met with a face of a woman he had never seen before. She was wearing round glasses and her left eye was covered by a black patch. Her hair was haphazardly put up in a ponytail. Her lips were curved in a wide, almost crazy grin.

“Hi,” she whispered to him, pressing her dagger tighter to his skin. Her voice was soft as honey. “I really don’t want to hurt you, and I’m sure you don’t want me to hurt you. So let’s cooperate, alright?”

Levi bared his teeth at her. Like hell he would cooperate with someone like her. There was a dagger hidden underneath his pillow. He started to slowly move his hand, if he could just reach it—

The woman grabbed his hand, before it touched the handle.

“Ah, ah,” she shook her head. “Don’t move.”

She held his arm firmly, she was evidently strong. But not stronger than Levi. He could overpower her, he was sure of it.

“I wouldn’t do it, if I were you,” the woman said, seeing through his intensions. “Even if you can win a fight with me,” If? Who did she think he was? “My people are standing outside, and all of your people were already dealt with.”

Levi tensed, all blood leaving his face. Was his crew—?

“They are alive,” the woman assured him. Her gaze turned surprisingly soft. “And unharmed. And if you promise to cooperate, they will be safe.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“I am an honest person.”

“Pirates don’t know what honor is.”

“Then you’re in luck,” she laughed. “After all, I’m only a part-time pirate!”

 ***

Hange Zoe – a part-time pirate and a full-time explorer of distant lands.

That’s how she described herself to Levi. The name, the name sounded so familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember, where he had heard it.

Levi glared at her furiously, as she walked around the deck, talking about herself, her crew and what they were intending to do to their ship. Levi didn’t really listen, he was too busy, thinking of the best way to murder her. He could shoot her, or run her through with his sword, or, maybe, he could throw her off the ship and watch her slowly drown. He also could capture her and take her back to England. He wasn’t a fun of executions, but he would happily attend Hange Zoe’s hanging.

But first, he needed to free himself from the ropes that bound his legs and arms together. Levi was actually impressed – those pirates certainly knew how to tie up a person, he couldn’t move an inch. They probably had a lot of experience. He glanced to his right, checking on Mikasa, his second in command. She looked just as furious as he did. So, she couldn’t free herself either. Levi turned to his other crew members – Armin, Eren, Jean, Connie and Sasha – all of them looked as helpless as Levi himself felt.

Shit.

Levi turned his attention back on Hange. She was looking right at him.

“I asked where you are heading,” she crouched next to Levi. “So?”

He stared at her, letting her see all of his fury. If she was actually expecting an answer from him, she was going to be very disappointed.

Hange waited for a moment, smiling expectantly. When Levi continued to silently glare at her, she huffed and turned to the person next to him.

“You,” she pointed at Armin. The boy immediately tensed. “Where are you going?”

“Um…” Armin’s eyes darted to Levi, as sweat started to drip down his face.

“C’mon,” Hange’s smile grew wider. “Just tell me.”

“We are… going to Port Royal,” he finally whispered.

“See? It wasn’t so hard.”

Her voice was so gentle and her eyes were so soft, and it all looked so genuine, Levi felt sick. What a vile, vile woman.

“Well, you’ve heard him,” Hange got to her feet and turned around, addressing the three of her crewmen. “Moblit, set course to Port Royal. Nifa, go and help him. Abel and Keiji, stay with me.”

Once she was done with giving out orders, Hange turned back to Levi. She put hands on her hips, staring at him intently. She didn’t say a word for a very long time, continuing to watch him.

“You’ve said that pirates don’t have honor,” she said finally. “Members of the navy do?”

“Of course, we do!” Eren, another member of his crew, shouted.

Hange turned to look at the boy, her lips twitching in an attempt to hide a smile. However, when her eyes returned to Levi, all signs of amusement were gone. She gazed at him, grave and serious. “Can you guarantee that?”

“I can,” Levi nodded.

“Alright,” she sighed. “I’m going to release you then. You can walk around the ship freely, doing whatever you want. We will get you to Port Royal safely. We won’t harm you, if you promise to cooperate.”

“You won’t kill us?” Levi asked slowly. “What do you want from us then?”

“I just want your ship,” she answered simply. “And I don’t want to hurt you. If you give us your ship, no one will be hurt. That I swear to you.”

“And what if I won’t agree? What if we start fighting the moment you free us?”

“I could have killed you. I still can. But I don’t want to. If you’re as honest man as you claim, you will respect that. And honor our treaty.”

It was stupid. Foolish, reckless, senseless. Pirates can’t be trusted, they’re murderers and thieves. But something told him that this woman was different, that Hange Zoe, a part-time pirate and full-time explorer, would keep her word.

And Levi, once he gave his word, always kept it.

“I agree to your terms. I promise not to hurt you, or your men. Once we get to the shore, you will get your ship.”

Hange smiled, bright and happy. “And you will get your freedom.”

***

Sharing a ship with pirates was surprisingly… easy.

Hange and her trusty crew were nothing like the pirates Levi had previously encountered. They weren’t violent or greedy, and they didn’t spend their days drinking and cracking vulgar jokes. They were actually… quite pleasant and obviously intelligent bunch. Those words, of course, didn’t apply to their captain. No, Hange was different, she got on Levi’s nerves so frequently, he felt like he was slowly losing his sanity.

She was loud, brash and bold. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and she didn’t stop to think about her choice of words, always spurting out the weirdest, most inappropriate shit. Hange was absolutely infuriating, impossible in every way. And it angered Levi, made him fucking furious and just realizing it was painful, but she intrigued him. He was captivated by her unusual persona, by different, and often clashing, parts of her character.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Levi’s whole crew liked Hange. Armin and Eren were fascinated by her stories about distant lands, Jean enjoying listening about different cultures she studied, Sasha and Connie were stuffing themselves with exotic food she found during her travels. Even Mikasa, who, at first, acted hostile towards her, started admiring her, when Hange showed her the collection of bizarre weapons, which she accumulated over the years of exploring the many realms and continents.

All of them were in fucking awe of Hange, and Levi suspected that even if he decided to break his promise and kill Hange to save their ship, he would have a really hard time convincing his subordinates to go with his plan.

Luckily, Levi had no intention of going back on his word. As long as Hange was keeping her end of the bargain, of course.

The more Levi watched her, the more it seemed like his first impression of her was wrong. Hange didn’t look like the cruel, violent woman Levi thought she was. On the contrary, she seemed kind and even gentle. She fiercely cared about her own crewmembers and she treated Levi’s crew with warmth and good-naturedness.

All in all, Hange appeared to be a good, honest person. At least, that’s what Levi wanted to believe.      

  ***

Another thing about Hange that frustrated Levi so much was her name. It still eluded him. He was sure, absolutely adamant that he had heard it before, but he just couldn’t remember where. He even asked Armin to look into this, but as for now, the boy didn’t give him any real answer.

So all he could do now was to continue watching her from afar, hoping that with time he would be able to solve this mystery.

  ***

There were many aspects of Hange that surprised and bewildered Levi. But the most amazing part of her was how skillful she was. She was a great and evidently experienced captain, passionate and knowledgeable explorer, who knew a whole myriad of different languages and culture customs. And she was also a very good fighter. Whatever weapon she used – sword, musket, crossbow, spear or axe (Levi especially enjoyed watching her wield that for the reasons he didn’t want to think about) – she was always deadly efficient with it.

In her spare time, Hange helped Mikasa train and, from time to time, she also agreed to duel with some of Levi’s subordinates. Eren and Jean were the ones who liked to challenge Hange the most, even though they always lost to her.

Naturally, it hurt some parts of Levi’s pride. He was the one, who trained those idiots. And Hange won fights with them without much hassle. But he would lie, if he said that he didn’t like watching her. Hange was strong, quick and endlessly graceful. Even with patch, covering her left eye, she was swift and coordinated.

It was one of those times, when Levi watched Hange effortlessly disarm Eren that Armin sat down next to him.

“I think I found out the origin of captain Hange’s name,” the boy said, handing Levi a book.

He scanned through the contents of a page Armin showed him. So that’s where Hange was from? He would need to ask her about it. Finally, he gained some leverage on her.

He was so lost in that satisfactory feeling that he didn’t notice that Eren had clutched his arm and started dragging him upwards.

“Captain, please!” Eren lamented, as he continued to pull Levi up. “You have to fight with captain Hange. She always wins, it’s unfair!”

“Yes, you have to show her what we’re made of!” Jean agreed.

“We believe in you, Captain!” Sasha cheered, giving Levi one last shove in the direction of Hange.

Hange herself stood in front of him. She put hands on her hips, grinning at him. “You don’t have to fight with me. If you’re afraid to lose.”

Oh, so that was it? She was that cocky? Well, Levi couldn’t just let it continue. He snatched the saber out of Eren’s hand, taking a stand and smirking at her gloomily. “You fought those fools and think you can win a duel with me? Not in a million years, pirate.”

“Why won’t we spice it up a little, sailor? Want to start a bet? Whoever loses has to fulfill the winner’s wish.”

Levi scowled. “You didn’t start any bets with those brats.”

“Because I knew it would be an easy. But you… I think you are quite a challenge.”

“And what kind of wish are we talking about?”

Hange gave him an almost feral grin. “Anything that comes to your mind.”

“And if I ask you to jump over the railing and give me back my ship?”

“Um, yeah,” Hange chuckled. “Anything but that.”

Levi huffed. “Fine, let’s get on with it, then.”

Hange mimicked his stance, ready to strike. “Show me what you got.”

As soon as Hange stopped talking, she attacked. It wasn’t a mighty swing, she was evidently just testing the ground, and Levi blocked it easily. Hange immediately followed it with another hit, and then another. Levi had no choice but to step back. He looked at Hange closely, he watched her fight with Eren, Jean and Mikasa, and she used a different style then. In duels with them, she was more on a defensive, waiting for an opportunity to land her critical hit. But now, she was moving swiftly, attacking him again and again, forcing him to either block and give her an opening, or move back.

Oh. So that’s what she was trying to do.

Levi looked her in the eye. Hange met his gaze, grinning wildly.

He blocked her next attack and then countered it with his own. Before Hange could react, he inflicted another blow. Two could play this game.

So very soon, Hange had to start evading his attacks. She jumped to the side or took a step back. She tried to retaliate, but Levi didn’t give her even a chance to do so. And in a matter of a few minutes of furiously charging at her, Levi finally had her exactly where he needed. Cornered against the door of a cabin. With a heavy swing, he knocked the weapon out of her hand. Then he moved his saber up, pressing its tilt to Hange’s throat.

He took a step closer, until their chests were nearly touching. Hange was breathing heavily, and with a start Levi realized that he had some difficulty breathing too.

Was it because of their fight? Or something else?

Hange licked her lips, before curving them in another grin. Levi’s eyes traced that movement. Suddenly, he wanted to take another step closer. Move so close that he would be able to look into her eye. From where he stood, it was near impossible to see the brown color of her iris, almost all of it was taken over by the black of the pupil. Was she so excited because of their fight? Or something else?

And then, as Hange slowly lifted her hands in surrender, Levi realized. He could kill her right now. She was weaponless and helpless, entirely at his mercy. He could end it right there and then, get rid of Hange and then deal with the rest of her team. Take his ship back. But somehow, murder wasn’t the thing that occupied his mind.

Instead, for some weird reason, he couldn’t look away from her lips. From up close, they looked soft. If he touched them right now, if he tasted them, pressing his own mouth to them, would he like it? Would Hange like it?

“That was great, Captain!”

Eren clasped his shoulder with a smile, and Levi moved swiftly, as though his proximity with Hange had burned him. He threw the saber to the ground, hastily leaving the deck.

What was wrong with him? What the fuck was he thinking about? Hange was his enemy, a dirty pirate, who had stolen his ship, and what he wanted to do with her? Make out? Stupid fucking idiot.

“Levi, wait!”

Oh no, it was Hange. Levi tried to close the doors to his cabin, but she had already stepped inside.

“You didn’t tell me your wish,” she explained, smiling softly.

Oh, right, the wish. Certainly, there were a couple of things he wished to do with Hange. And those were the same things he shouldn’t even think about!

“Come out to the deck at midnight,” he said instead, ignoring the weird feelings inside his chest. And the almost irresistible urge to get close to Hange. “I want to talk with you about something.”

“Roger that!” Hange saluted to him, leaving his cabin.

Levi watched her go. She seemed completely unaffected. Was he the only one, who felt this? This tension, this atmosphere between them. It was intense, charged with something powerful and unnamable. It pulled Levi closer, made it impossible to look away, when Hange was in his line of sight.

He just couldn’t stay away from her. And the worst thing – he didn’t want to.

  ***

As soon as his watch stroke midnight, Levi walked out to the deck. Hange was already there, waiting for him.

She looked different than usual – she changed from her shirt, pants and long coat into a thin white shirt a light yellow robe. Her hair was free out of the familiar ponytail, and now the soft brown locks cascaded down to her shoulders. She looked weird, seemed almost innocent and fragile. Levi mentally scoffed, as that word came to his mind. Hange was many things, but she definitely wasn’t fragile.

“Did you want to talk?” she asked without looking at him. “Or did you come here to stare at me?”

Shit, so she noticed him. Levi felt his face burn. Damn it, he needed to focus.

“I found your family,” he said, thrusting a book Armin gave him into her hands. “Francisco Zoe, that’s your father right?”

“Maybe,” Hange shrugged, not even glancing at the book. “What does it matter, though?”

“He is a member Parliament, he owns a massive amount of lands and estates – he’s rich and very influential!”

“So what?” Hange lazily required.

“So what?!” Levi gasped. “You, his only child, are a pirate captain, who can’t even afford your own ship!”

“I’m not his child,” she retorted bitterly. “He is a cruel and heartless man, who doesn’t give a shit about me. He never did. The only reason, why he kept me by his side all these years was because he wanted to marry me off. And when I refused, he disowned me.”

“Your father kicked you out…” Levi stared at her incredulously. “So you’ve decided to become a pirate?”

“I’m not a pirate,” Hange reminded him. “I always dreamed of being an explorer – of studying and researching different cultures. But no university in England wanted to hire me, so,” she rolled her shoulders. “I stole a ship and decided to make my dream a reality.��

“And your crew—?”

Hange smiled, the gesture softening her features. “They’ve been servants at my father’s house. I used to read them my books, and when I was preparing to run away, they wanted to go with me. We’ve been together ever since.”

Levi shook his head, trying to make a sense of Hange’s story. She had it all – wealth, social status and a safe future, but she decided to sacrifice it, because she had other dreams, because she wasn’t content with her life. It was hard for Levi to understand it, or her. He grew up poor and struggled all his life, just trying to survive. His mother died, when he was a boy, his uncle left him, when he was barely a teenager. He would have given anything to be in Hange’s place, to live a comfortable and safe life. But she threw it all away and didn’t seem to regret it in the least.

“You seem troubled,” Hange noted with a quiet chuckle.

“I don’t understand you,” Levi answered truthfully. “You just left your comfortable life behind, became a criminal and an outlaw, who can be killed at any moment. Dozens of British officers are trying to capture you, send you to jail, or, worse to the gallows. Why did you do it?”

“To free myself,” Hange said softly, but proudly. “To get away from my asshole father and live my life the way I want it to. And by the way, you’re wrong,” she smiled mischievously. “There aren’t any British officers, who are trying to capture me.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure?”

Hange leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I didn’t cut my ties with London completely. I still have a few very influential friends.”

Levi’s eyes widened, as he realized who exactly Hange meant. There was only one person, who held such a high rank and was daring and reckless enough to conspire with pirates.

“And what that bastard needs from you?”

“B-bastard?” Hange choked. “You know Erwin?!”

“He’s my superior officer,” Levi grumbled, avoiding Hange’s curious gaze. “And you didn’t answer my question, four-eyes.”

“Ah, well,” Hange adjusted her glasses. “Pirates frequently attack ships. And sometimes Erwin points me to especially well-equipped vessels.”

“You spy for him!” Levi pinned Hange with a hard gaze. “Did he tell to attack our ship as well?”

“No! It was a mere coincidence,” Hange smiled slyly, playing with strands of her hair. “Or maybe fate?”

“There is no such thing as fate,” Levi huffed.

“So everything happens without a reason?”

“Exactly,” he nodded.

Hange elbowed him in the side, chuckling. “You’re a cynic.”

“And you’re naively optimistic.”

“Opposites attract?” Hange smirked.

And there it was again. That same electrifying tension, which pulled Levi closer to her. He tried to resist it, but the longer he spent looking into her eye, the harder it became to tear his gaze away. Hange stared back at him just as intently, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. It looked like a completely involuntarily action, but Levi’s pulse raced double time.

Was Hange’s heartbeat as loud and fast as his? Was she as affected by their sudden proximity as he was?

Without really thinking about his actions, Levi slowly lifted his arm. He didn’t know what he was trying to do – put it on her shoulder to bring her closer? Tangle it in her hair, so he could crash their lips together?

But before he had a chance to decide, Hange jumped to the side, escaping his arms.

“It’s getting late, don’t you think?” she giggled. The sound was so forced, it made Levi cringe. “I think I’ll head to bed now! Goodnight!”

And then Hange almost ran to her own cabin.

Shit.

Levi lowered his hand and tightened it into a fist. What was he even thinking? What was she doing to him, why couldn’t he control himself in her presence? It wasn’t like him at all, he was always in control. He controlled every emotion and feeling, every move of his body and word from his mouth. But when Hange was around, all of his carefully constructed walls crumbled and fell. One smile from her was all it took for Levi to lose his mind, to completely surrender to her charms or whatever it was that made him react so wildly.

He needed to get a grip on himself. He needed to stop thinking about the brown color of her eye, or the soft curve of her smile, or the way her laughter reminded him of warm, sunny days.

Hange was a pirate, his enemy. She stole his ship for Christ’s sake! He must hate her, not want to kiss her so hard that she would forget everything, but his name.

He needed to get her out of his head. To avoid her at all costs, until they part their ways.

***

Surprisingly, avoiding Hange wasn't as hard as Levi had feared. All he really had to do was to close himself inside his cabin and take as much books from Armin, as the boy had.

It wasn't an ideal situation, Levi hated sitting around and doing nothing, and Armin's choice of books was boring, to say the least. But. It gave him at least something to think about besides Hange and whatever was going on between them.

Still, even though he was spending all his days behind closed doors, it was hard to escape from Hange. The walls were paper-thin and so Levi heard her every laugh or exclamation. And every time he did, his treacherous mind filled with images of Hange's infuriating face. He'd think about her stupid cocky grin or her annoyingly sweet smile or her pretty brown eyes that seemed to sparkle, when she was excited or happy.

And it drove him mad, made him want to bang his head against the wall, because goddamn it, but he wanted her. He wanted her so much it was insufferable. It confused him, and, more than that, it scared him.

He had never felt like this - sure, he wasn't a stranger to sex, and sometimes, when he was on land, he'd seek some pleasurable company, but he never did it intentionally. He had never wanted it, needed it so much.

But when Hange was next to him, he could barely resist himself. He wanted to kiss her so much it almost pained him.

But somehow he knew— he knew that if he let himself kiss her, if he managed to taste her on his lips at least once, then he wouldn't be able to let go. And he couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

Soon they'll reach Port Royal. Hange would be gone from his life forever. And, hopefully, she'd be gone from his heart too.

*** Levi was reading a particularly thrilling paragraph about navigation, when his door began to shake with thunderous blows. He groaned, recognizing Eren's knocks right away.

"The fuck do you want?" he shouted, not bothering to get to his feet and open the door.

Unfortunately, either Eren didn't hear him or he misinterpreted his words for a welcome, because in the next second he tumbled inside his room.

"Captain!"

Levi tensed, as he saw that the boy looked absolutely wild - his face was flushed and his eyes stared at him with a desperate implore. Did something happen? Were they attacked or—

"It's an absolute disaster!" Eren cried out. "Captain Hange's crew, you have to stop them!"

What? Did Hange decide to break her promise? Levi felt his blood go cold. He believed her, fucking trusted her and she betrayed him?

"Eren," Levi walked to the boy and tightly gripped his shoulders. "What happened?"

"The tournament!"

The what?

"We decided to organize the tournament, to find out who is better - pirates or members of navy, and—"

"Wait," Levi took a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. Headache started to form behind his eyelids. "You are this panicked because of some stupid competition?"

"We can't lose to them, Captain!"

"Our honor is on the line!" Connie added, materializing seemingly out of thin air. All other members of Levi’s crew appeared next to him as well. All of them had the same desperate expressions as Eren.

Levi sighed. The headache was rapidly intensifying. "Fine, tell me what happened."

"We were kind of bored, so Сaptain Hange proposed to find out who are the best fighters," Eren began. "There were four duels."

"I defeated Keiji!" Connie shouted proudly.

"But that horse Jean lost to Abel," Eren shook his head. Jean glared at him, elbowing him in the side.

"Mikasa won in a fight against Moblit," Armin said, smiling nervously.

"But Sasha couldn't defeat Nifa," Connie sadly finished.

"So now we have a tie!" the fire returned to Eren's eyes.

"And the fuck I have to do with your shit?" Levi asked, crossing hands on his chest and scowling at his subordinates. "You still didn't fight, Eren. Go and duel with four-eyes. Win that stupid tournament and get over it."

"But Captain! I've fought with her dozens of times! And I didn't win even once!"

"Guys," Levi tensed, as he heard that voice. Soon its owner appeared in his doorway. "Don't pressure your Captain so much. If he's afraid of losing, there is nothing you can do."

Oh, that's how it was? She was back to her insufferably cocky self?

"I won last time, four-eyes," Levi coldly remained.

"Doesn't mean you'll win this time too," she smirked.

"If you want to embarrass yourself again," he growled, pushing past his crewmembers.

He grabbed the saber from Mikasa, gripping it tightly in his hand. His grip became even tighter, when he saw the smug look on Hange's face, as she sauntered to stand in front of him.

She twirled her own saber, that damn smirk still plastered on her lips. Levi wanted to wipe it off with his fist, or, more preferably, with his own lips.

"The terms are the same as last time? The one who loses has to fulfill the other's wish?"

"You were the one, who lost last time," Levi reminded her again.

"The past is in the past," Hange shrugged, before taking a fighting stance.

In the next moment, she attacked. And even though, Levi was ready for it, he wasn't quite ready for the force of her hit. Hange swung her saber so heavily, Levi's own weapon had almost fallen to the ground.

He cursed under his breath, she changed her fighting style again. She didn't give him the slightest chance to adapt. What an irritating woman. Fighting with her was absolutely exhilarating.

Before he could perform his own attack, Hange hit him again. And again. Her swings were fast, but strong, and all Levi could do was try his best to avoid them. He blocked, ducked, jumped back, stepped aside. Soon he and Hange were dancing around the deck, going around each other in circles.

Hange was an excellent fighter, but not better than Levi. Dueling with her wouldn't be that hard, if he could focus on something else, except that exciting twinkle in her eye.

And, of course, because she wasn't just a good fighter, but an incredibly sharp person, Hange saw right through him. And turned his fault into her advantage. While Levi was so centered on her face, she swung lowly, hitting his wrist. It was an intentionally soft hit, Hange was evidently extra careful not to hurt him. However, the impact still made him drop his weapon.

A wide, victorious grin appeared on her face. Behind them, Hange's crew began to shout in triumph, while Levi's men groaned in defeat.

"I'll be waiting for you at midnight," she whispered, patting his shoulder.

And then, she went to accept congratulations from her crew, leaving Levi stare after her with a dazed and shook expression.

  ***

Levi knew it was a bad idea. To stand next to Hange on the empty deck in the middle of the night - he was practically asking for trouble. But he always kept his word, and he wouldn't break his principals now. He'd listen to what Hange wants from him, he'd perform whatever stupid task she'd ask. And then he'd leave.

Without looking back.

He got a sense of déjà vu, when he walked out to the deck and saw Hange there.

"So you came," she noted without turning to face him.

"You doubted me?" Levi took a few steps closer, but still stood a little distance away.

"Well," Hange shrugged. "You were avoiding me for three days."

So she noticed, huh? Well, he wasn't exactly subtle.

"What is your wish?" he asked gruffly, trying to mask his uneasiness.

Hange grinned, finally looking at him. "Kiss me," she said simply.

"What?!"

"Kiss me," Hange repeated sweetly, as though she was talking to a child. "On the lips."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Maybe. But you agreed to a bet. Or does honor means nothing to you?”

Levi let out a low growl. She was taunting him, he knew that. Telling her to go fuck herself and then leaving was the smartest thing to do.

Unfortunately, Levi didn’t consider himself to be a very smart person.

So her grabbed by the shirt and crashed his lips against hers. He meant for it to be brief, just a simple touch. But when Hange opened her mouth and a quiet moan escaped her, Levi knotted his fists into her shirt, pulling her harder against him.

He felt shivers run down his spine, his knees were getting wobbly, but he didn’t stop, not until he was completely out of breath.

“Jeez,” Hange whispered, when they broke apart. “I knew you were good, but I could have never imagined that.”

“You thought about kissing me?” Levi asked dizzily. His heart hammered inside his chest and his hands trembled with desire to touch her again.

“Yeah,” Hange laughed, not an ounce of shame. “Many times.”

“Then why—” Levi glared at her. “The last time we spoke, I wanted to kiss you.”

“I know,” Hange nodded.

“Why did you push me away then?”

“I got scared,” she answered simply and honestly. “No one has ever made me feel like this before, and I was confused about it.”

“And what changed?”

“Remember what I told you? About living my life the way I want it? Well,” Hange spread her hands. “I like how you make me feel, and I very much like you, so why should I deprive myself of that?”

“So that’s it?” Levi asked. “It’s that simple?”

Hange shrugged, her lips curving into a grin. “Yeah, for me it is.”

Levi raked his hands through his hair. “I need… to think about it.”

“Sure,” she softly patted his shoulder. Her understanding, kindness and acceptance bewildered Levi beyond words. “Take all the time you need. I’m not pressuring you into anything.”

“This thing between us— what if I agree to it?” Levi looked up at her, his eyes desperate for something he couldn’t name. “How would that even work? We probably won’t see each other again.”

“We don’t really have to say goodbye,” she mused. “We can… work together?”

“I’m an officer of the navy,” Levi reminded her.

“And I’m only a part-time pirate,” Hange said cheekily. “I mean we both work for Erwin anyway.”

“And I won’t have to give my ship to you…” Levi agreed, feeling uncharacteristically giddy. What if… what if that actually can work?

“I can help you get rid of violent criminals and—”

“And I can help you travel around the world,” he finished.

“Mm,” Hange smiled. It was the brightest smile Levi had ever seen on her face. “So does that mean you agree to cooperate?”

“Your terms don’t sound that awful,” a small smile tugged at Levi’s own lips. “I think we should seal our deal.”

And with that, he wrapped his hands around her and kissed her once again.

  ***

A part-time pirate was also an exceptional thief. However, it wasn’t Levi’s ship that was stolen.

It was his heart.

[curechocolattymilk]

TES V OC Thingie

[Got tagged by @jessaryss​ ! ]

Pause your game! Wherever your OC is in their game currently, tell me about their story so far.

✧✧✧ General

Current Level: 56

Name: Jeer-Tei Perdes

Name Meaning: Literally got it from a name generator lol. But lore wise it was a name gifted to them in honor of an Argonian who served beside Tei’s mother during the Great War

Pronouns: They/Them

Age: Early 30s where they are story wise???

Race(s): Argonian

Place of Origin: Hammerfell

Pick A Theme Song For Them: oof that's tough... From a Crowded Wound or maybe even Firstwake? If you really played around w personal interpretation/the lyrics that is haha

✧✧✧ Locations

Where Did You Begin Their Game?: Argonian Assemblage, Windhelm (Alternative Start)

Where Are They Currently In Your Game?: Whiterun

What Are They Doing There?: Just finished attending a party held in their honor (Post Blood of Kings)

Homes?: Breezehome, Proudspire, Lakeview & Autmnwatch

# of Locations Discovered?: 274

Dungeons Cleared: 104

Misc. Quests Completed: 87

Favorite Areas and/or Locations: Falkreath / Lakewview Manor. Both areas are where Tei heads off to in order to collect their thoughts/feel some sense of calm.

✧✧✧ Main Quest

Are They Dragonborn / Do They Know It At This Point?: Yes & yes

How Do They Feel About Being Dragonborn: It's...complicated, being thrust into the role of savior by gods of the Cult, which in turn are followed by the folk who see you lesser than them. Tei already has a dislike towards the Divines, this doesn't really help lol

Main Quests Completed: 21

Where Are They In The Main Story Line: Alduin's dead, currently trying to ignore the Civil War as long as they can before the Empire forces its hand into forcing them to join their ranks

Dragon Souls Absorbed: In total overall? 147. The amount currently stored in Tei? 45

Words of Power Learned: 64

Shouts Mastered: 21

Favorite Shout: Firebreath / Dragonrend

✧✧✧ Combat

Most Used Weapon(s): Daedric war axe OR Dragonbone battle axe. Tei technically has both on them at all times during adventuring, alongside a shield, so which they used depends on the situation/which they grab fastest.

Combat Style: Two/One-handed tank. Main tactic is to rush in, cause as much damage/chaos as possible to shake up the opponent, & clean up what the ranged attackers of the party (usually Rumarin, Inigo and/or Lucien) weren't able to deal with.

Armor Type / Level In It: HEAVY ARMOR BABYYYYY (Level 100 + 35 extra points via enchantments)

# of Training Sessions: 99 in-game, lore wise its a lot of self-teaching/keeping their skills learned from Hammerfell sharp. Some of these are magic but lore-wise this doesn't happen cus Tei is not a magic user, save for shouts. I just did those in-game for exp OR so I can help Lucien raise his magic skills :'D

Who Taught Them?: In-game?? Fuuuck so many npcs. Lore-wise? They learned this from their schooling in Hammerfell, going off the canon-lore that it's p much expected for everyone to have a grasp on combat & weaponry! Though they did learn a few things from Kaidan & Anum-La.

Favorite Enemy Type: Dragons! Despite the fact Tei does not have the best magic resistance, it's one hell of a challenge they love to meet.

Least Favorite Enemy Type: Automatons, because of a bad experience with them as a child. Also Undead, because they were raised not to disturb them & it just feels so wrong having to fight them/go into tombs.

People Killed: 945

Animals Killed: 749 (Hunterborn makes hunting fun lol)

Undead Killed: 766

Automatons Killed: 105

Daedra Killed: 136

✧✧✧ Magic

Favorite School(s): None, actually. Destruction is okay though....they guess

Most Used Spell(s): Firebreath or Dragon Aspect. Tei doesn't consider shouts spells though. It's totally different guys shut up they ain't no smelly mage gods

Spells Learned: 9 in-game, mainly due to the spells you're kinda forced to learn for some quests/the ones you automatically know

Items Enchanted: 19 (Tei technically doesn't enchant, and wont next playthrough for sure I wont give in this time >:[ )

College of Winterhold Quests Completed: 8

Where Are They At In The Questline?: Main quest is done bcus i dont like seeing unfinished quests in my journal lmao. Tei's involvement is completely different from canon though in my take. Moreso was hired as a guard for the expedition & was, unwillingly, dragged into the rest of the mess. Is not offered the Archmage position, that went straight to Tolfdir.

Opinions on Magical Guilds (Arcane University, Winterhold, Psijics, Synod, Radiant Dark, etc.): As they get older, they tolerate the guild & magic users more n more, BUT, Tei grew up in an environment that frowns upon the practice of magic, & it shows. They mainly mistrust necromancers/illusionists & still hold onto that belief that reliance on magic, especially for combat, is a weakness.

Bold words for someone with shit magic resistance.

✧✧✧ Crime

Current Gold: 10,640

How Did They Acquire Their Gold?: Odd jobs, selling a lot of the items they made/harvested from smithing & hunting (jewelers are their go-to hirers bcus Tei is great at getting things like ivory), Dwemer ruin diving (they refuse to loot the tombs), also yknow....being part of the Dark Brotherhood helps

Largest Bounty On Their Head: 11,240

For...?: Unfortunately they did not stand down when they were being falsely accused of murder in Markarth. First time Tei called down dragons (Sahrotaar, specifically, Tei managed to get command of Miraak's dragons post-Dragonborn) to absolutely smite some fools.

Current Bounty: None! They're good at not getting caught/threatening and/or bribing guards. :)

Locks Picked: 15 i think?

Jail Time: 1, Cidhna Mine

Jail Escapes: 1, teamed up w the Forsworn lol

Murders: 28

Assaults: 307....In their defense people keep getting in their way during dragon attacks

Items Stolen: 37, most of them from the nobles of Windhelm

Thieves Guild Quests Completed: N/A (wont be doing this storyline unless i cant find a mod that'll let me get the shouts locked behind it)

Dark Brotherhood Quests Completed: 20

Where Are They At In Those Questlines?: DB is completed main arc wise!

✧✧✧ Relationships

Relationship Status: Married to two lovely fellas

Current Companions: atm? none

Housecarls: Lydia & Rayya

Friends (outside of party): Zora Fair-Child, Inigo, Lucien, Anum-La, Morndas, Aela the Huntress, Nazir, Babette, Scouts-Many-Marshes, Isobel, Madesi

Children: Khash, Chases-Starlight, Ram-Ku. (going of where Tei is now - Otero & Mei come around later on in Tei's story!)

Romantic Interest(s): Kaidan & Rumarin.

Sexual Orientation:

GAY

✧✧✧ Religion

Pantheon: Yokudan, with a hint of Hircine worship in there

Patron Deity(ies): From the Yokudan pantheon: Tei mainly views HoonDing as their main patron, but also prays to/pays respect to Satakal.

They are also Hircine's champion.

Daedric Quests Completed: 3 (Hircine, Vile, Dagon - the last Tei didn't really help, moreso pissed off)

Aedric Quests Completed: 1 if you count the whole Alduin thing I guess?

How Devout Are They?: Tei is rather devout, esp to their Yokudan patrons, praying or making offerings daily. They aren't the type to really push it in your face though, but have no issues answering questions one might have.

How Do They Feel About Talos Worship?: Deep down they acknowledge & admit trying to ban worship is terrible, but....Tei also lets their bias/experience with Windhelm, the Stormcloaks & especially Ulfric kinda cloud over this. If the Nords want their old ways so damn much, why fight for a divine from the Imperial Cult? Why not go back to the actual old ways? No, this isn't about worship, not to the men leading this so-called rebellion, they just needed something other than their racist bullshit to fool the common man into throwing their lives away for the nobles sitting comfortable in their thrones.

Also during their whole thing of getting into their role of dragonborn, they get a bonus 'fuck this dude actually' towards Talos, Ysmir, whatever the fuck he calls himself. (tldr; it sucks but good luck hearing Tei say that fully)

✧✧✧ Politics

Gray-Mane or Battle-Born?: Neither, ask them again they will punch you for the love of Ruptga they get asked that every time they enter Whiterun.

Stormcloaks or Imperials?: Also neither, Tei hates em both n think they can all choke. Unfortunately they were forced to join the latter due to, yknow, calling dragons & causing massive damage in Imperial territories during isolated fits of rage and the group being more aggressive in wanting something in return for "letting it slide"....oops

Opinion on the Thalmor?: Oh absolutely despises them, they loudly complained having to work with them during the CW & would go out their way to disrupt their plans/piss them off. Sneaking was an option they did not take during the Embassy quest, if it helps paint the picture.

Opinion Of Ulfric Stormcloak?: Tei doens't say they hate people often...but they sure as hell hate Ulfric. Again, their experience in Windhelm added to this heavily, how both the Dunmer & Argonians were treated like shit, with no help whatsoever from the Jarl or guards when the local Nords targeted them. It's still up in the air if I keep this for Tei's story, but I have it where they knew Chases-Starlight's parents, who were killed. When Tei went up & demanded justice/an investigation, only to be brushed off because it "wasn't a priority," it completely destroyed what little empathy or hope they had left for Windhelm as a whole.

Opinion of The Empire?: Cowards too weak to continue fighting back against the Thalmor, in their opinion, & holds these views they grew up with even when being strong-armed into aiding them. If anything they're at least attempting to use their influence to hint towards a rebellion against the Thalmor, but the Empire could also full-on dissolve & they could give less of a shit.

Civil War Quests Completed: 0

✧✧✧ Personal

How Are They Doing? Need Some Juice? A Nap? A Hug?: The whole event of Blood of Kings has fucked with their head, to say the least. It's the starting point of Tei's eventual spiral. So uh...yeah they're not sure how they're doing everything they knew about reality was kinda challenged & they don't rlly have anyone to talk to about it so its cool, its fine, its all good.

A nap is probably needed, not sure about a hug theough they're super flinchy rn

Days Past In Game: 196

Hours of Sleep: 846

Food Items Consumed: 1833

How Many Playthroughs Have You Done With This Character: Tei actually is an older character from the 360 days so uh...maybe 5 at most? This playthrough & their S:EC one coming up when the mod releases being the main ones focusing on their story

Overall How's Your Level Of Fun: Alright I would say! I just been stepping away from Skyrim more often lately to avoid burning out from it

Must Have Mods To Play This Character (for story or other reasons): Ordinator, Wintersun Faiths, Immersive Armors, Sarcastic Player Dialogue, 3DNPC, Inigo, Lucien Flavius, Kaidan 2, Khash the Argonian, Alternative Start, Leviathan Animations, Beast Race Body Paints, Beast HHBB, Apocalypse Magic, Deadly Dragons, Growl: Werewolf Overhaul, Pronouns, uhhh....idk what else without actually listing my current modlist lmao

----

And that's it for Tei! Anyone who wants to do this go on ahead!

[lassieposting]

angsty relationship asks for iolent pleasee✨

(5,9,10,19,20,40,42)

5. how do they hide their pain when they’re upset? do they try to hide their pain?

Lmao they do not hide being pissed at each other in the slightest. Early on, their arguments tend to resolve in a knock-down drag-out fight that will demolish a considerable amount of furniture. They then usually make up by having enthusiastic, still-kind-of-fighting makeup sex on whatever relatively undamaged surface is left amidst the carnage.

9. is there something big that could potentially tear them apart if it was revealed? 

Short answer: nothing that either of them know about

But for a long time, Vile is convinced that his real identity would have this result. He only outs himself to Mevolent when Serpine sees him without the armour, and that's only to get the secret out there before Nef can use it against him. It's damage control. And he fully expects Mevolent to turn on him for it.

He doesn't. He's actually pretty into having corrupted the resistance's golden boy.

Now, if it were ever to come out that vile is not fully human, that would probably cause a pretty big conflict. He'd become a rival and a potential threat to Mevolent's gods. I don't know that it would tear them apart, but Mevolent would absolutely go to war with himself over whether he can afford to let Vile live.

Fortunately, the only creature who suspects anything is Nye, thanks to some tests it ran while Skug was Serpine's prisoner, and even it doesn't know what the abnormalities in his blood meant. It just knows there's something not right about him. It was deeply salty that Serpine was so territorial at the time, and even more salty that he burned Skug rather than let it vivisect him.

10. if something already happened to tear them apart, what would make them come back together? is it even possible?

The reappearance of someone or something they both hate or that neither of them could beat alone. They'd probably team up again if the Faceless Ones broke into the Leibniz dimension, because they'd both be fucked otherwise.

19. how about teasing? do they tease each other while in a fight (whether it be with themselves or just general teasing)?

There's a healthy amount of mockery. Vile is actually pretty good for keeping Mevolent's ego in check - nobody else can safely tell him that his stained glass window of himself is tacky and painfully nouveau riche.

Mevolent teases less, at least initially. He's never really had friends, so he missed out on developing a lot of the childhood and adolescent social skills that let you understand where the boundaries are between playful teasing and being Nasty. and while he's definitely got a sense of humour, he ascended at a pretty young age to a social position where he had a lot of subordinates but very few equals, so he's not really had the opportunity to develop those skills as an adult, either. He sees the sort of insulting banter that's always been second nature to vile, who grew up with five similarly-aged siblings, as more...thinly veiled personal attacks.

He does get more relaxed about it as he gets used to Vile, though. It's not as easy as it would've been with Skug - Vile's humour is darker and a lot more deadpan, he smiles a lot less - but after 200 years Mevolent definitely sasses him back, and doesn't take his needling too seriously.

20. do either of them have any vices?

Throughout history, people - often shamans or faith healers of various beliefs - have used psychedelic drugs as part of medicinal or spiritual rituals. The same is true of Mevolent - and a lot of Faceless worshippers. He has herbs burned in censers during his evening prayers to produce sweet smoke that makes him feel closer to his gods. The smoke also happens to be hallucinogenic, and since his evening prayers are usually shortly before he goes to bed, it gives him some seriously fucked up dreams, which he then interprets as the Faceless Ones showing him their will, rewarding him for his devotion, or punishing him for crossing them, depending on the dream's "message".

Vile doesn't have vices so much as he has just. A personality that's like 90% character flaw.

40. who sleeps on the couch? can either of them sleep without the other?

Vile, like the rest of Mevolent's inner circle, has a suite of rooms at the palace. When they get serious, he just sort of moves in with Mev, because the monarch's rooms are far larger, far grander, and far more comfortable. But if Mevolent is mad at him, he gets banished back to his own rooms.

Mev sleeps just fine by himself - he's a big guy and he likes to starfish - but Vile is prone to night terrors, and it's not unusual for him to just Not Sleep when he's alone. He's technically dead, so sleep isn't a physical necessity, but people need sleep to stay sane, so his general mental health definitely takes a turn for the better once he's spending his nights cuddled up to a living space heater and (mostly) getting his eight hours.

42. if one of them gets injured, who worries more?

Mevolent.

When Mev is injured, he has Doctor Nye on standby to tend to him. Doctor Nye is one of the world's top medical professionals (although...he's not actually sure what medical school it went to. It did go to medical school, didn't it?)

Anyway, Nye is good. While he does get taken out of commission a few times, it's never for long. And because he is generous and a good employer, he extends his personal surgeon's services to his generals.

The problem is, Vile sees doctors as a threat, he's particularly afraid of Nye, and if he goes into fight/flight/freeze mode, he picks fight every time. So Mev has to bring in outside healers to treat him if he's hurt, and no matter how good those healers are, he knows they're not going to be as good as Nye. So in Mev's mind, not only is his partner injured, he's receiving substandard care.

(He knows this is irrational, and any healers good enough to get hired as his household medical staff are perfectly competent. He worries anyway)

There is a massive bounty for the capture and delivery of Kenspeckle Grouse, alive and unharmed, purely because he wants a Nye-level doctor around for Vile's booboos.

Vile, for his part, is a) technically dead, which makes him very difficult to kill again, b) usually too lazy to make his fake heart push his fake blood around his fake body, so any wound he receives won't actually bleed, and c) the sort of stubborn hard-as-nails military pain in the backside who would much rather stitch himself up and end up with a massive scar than get poked and prodded by anyone with an actual medical degree, so he doesn't see what the fuss is about. I had an ex-army friend once who pulled his bad tooth out with a pair of pliers rather than let me make his ridiculous ass a dentist appointment. Vile is That Asshole and it gives Mevolent palpitations because he's civilised.

[bondsmagii]

Regarding what was lying in mom's bed three months after she had passed.

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Bonnie Jennings, regarding a discovery made in her mother’s bed three months after her mother’s death. Original statement given May 18, 2009. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Mum and I… we weren’t close. That’s probably an understatement. I suppose the correct word for it is that we were estranged, but that’s always seemed far too gentle for my liking. If I’m being honest, Mum and I hated one another. I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but my mother was a difficult woman to get along with. She drove everybody away in the end, but not even in the tragic, oh, she can’t help it kind of way. No, she knew exactly what she was doing. She revelled in it, I think. Well, I know she did. I’m not sure what she got out of it, but she liked to… to hurt people, I guess. She got a kick out of it. She was never quick about it, never in-your-face, because that wasn’t fun for her. She was so insidious. She would draw it out, let it take its time, ensure you never had enough to directly confront her about it. She never had a kind word for anyone or anything, and especially not for me. You know, I absolutely hate it, because whenever I mention that my mother and I didn’t talk much people always assume it’s because of well, you know. Somebody like that, you don’t expect them to be accepting of these kinds of things, do you? They always assume I had the classic story of coming out and being booting into the street, but no. That’s just a tragic story that gets parcelled up and delivered out as sad little stories meant to tell everyone how brave we are, and how much we endure, and it always ends with a reconciliation or with us getting back on our feet, stronger for it. Really, that’s not what happens most often. Of course it still does, and I’m not denying that, but I think people need to talk more about the more subtle kind of dismissal we might face. When I told Mum I was trans, all she said was “alright”. That’s it. Just the one word. She didn’t want to know anything more about it, she didn’t want to ask what it meant. She was completely disinterested, but not even in the way that some parents might be – struggling to deal with the fact that they’ve lost a child or whatever crap they come out with. I’m charitable about it – I know it is a shock. I have a lot of trans friends with good relationships with their parents who reported that their parents did need some time just to get used to the idea, but I think that’s normal. When somebody has an idea of you and you tell them they’re wrong, and that you were never that person, it’s a shock. But Mum was so self-centred, so absorbed in her own existence, that she really didn’t care about anything or anyone else. It didn’t matter that her son was actually her daughter. It didn’t centre on her, so who cares? It was infuriating, because on the surface she looked like a model mother. She began using the correct name and pronouns immediately and didn’t slip up once. She advised me on clothing and hair and makeup and gave me beauty tips. She looked so supportive, but really it was just her controlling criticism repackaged. I think, in a sick way, she loved having a daughter. Now she was the expert, as the older woman, and she could boss me around and condescend to me even more. It was an absolute nightmare, but I’m not here to talk smack about my mum – even though I could quite happily do so all day. No, this is about what happened after she was dead and gone. You hear that? Dead. She’s dead, and she’s still causing me problems.

I hadn’t spoken to Mum for over a year when she passed. She never even told me she was sick. None of my business, I guess. It was just Mum and me growing up, and there was no extended family. As I said, Mum drove everyone away in the end. There was absolutely nobody there at all, and that’s why her body rotted in her house for months before anyone found her. She died in the winter, and it was so cold her body basically froze  – she never left the heating on a timer, always turned it on manually so she could have more control over the cost. It wasn’t until the weather started getting warmer that neighbours noticed all the flies on the window, realised they hadn’t seen Mum for a while. They called the police, the police broke in, and they found the putrid mess that used to be my mother. Pretty messed up, right? Somehow I was still her emergency contact, because I guess there was nobody else, and so the police called me and broke the news and I was shocked but not really that upset. I mean, that sounds bad, but she’s been dead to me for some time, you know? Really it was sort of nice to know she was actually dead, because grieving for a living person – especially a person you never really had – is a very complicated business. Now she was dead, I thought I could finally just close that chapter. Of course it’s never that easy.

As her next of kin, I was responsible for her… estate, I suppose. That sounds so grand considering it was just a small semi-detached in rural Lincolnshire, but little though it was, it was mine. She never made a will, as I found out when I expressed surprise she’d left me anything at all. She hadn’t actually bothered, so by default it had all gone to me. I was living in Peterborough at the time, and Mum’s house was only in Spalding, so we didn’t live that far apart at all. It didn’t take long for my then-boyfriend and I to get in the car and head down there to see what all we needed to do. I wasn’t interested in keeping the house for myself, because why would I want it? Not to mention Henry and I had been considering buying a place together – later, when he proposed to me, he confessed he had been planning to pop the question that weekend but then they had to go and find my mother’s corpse, which was kind of funny in a morbid way – so we figured if we could sell the place it might be good money to put towards our own first house. Of course, there was the small matter of trying to sell a house where somebody had died, but I figured it wouldn’t be that hard. It wasn’t a brutal murder or anything like that. If we could clean the place up nicely, I didn’t think it would matter too much.

Well, they hadn’t exactly told us how bad it was going to be. Did you know that the family are in charge of cleaning up a house after a death? I didn’t. I thought that would be something that would be covered, you know? By who I’m not sure, but I didn’t think it would be down to family members to scrub up blood and worse from the carpets or the walls or whatever. I at least thought the police would warn us, and maybe it just slipped their mind, but whatever happened or didn’t happen ended up with Henry and I walking into that house not knowing what to expect at all.

We soon got the idea. The stench was abysmal, even just walking up the garden path. Of course, the body itself had been taken care of, but a body that’s been laying in the house for three months leaves behind a lot of evidence, even if it did spend most of that time mostly frozen. Mum’s bedroom was just… it was a nightmare. Words cannot describe the stretch. Sweet and sticky and sickly; you can taste it more than you can smell it. Cloying. That’s the word that came to my mind. I always thought it was a stupid word, but in that moment I understood exactly what it meant. Cloying. I could feel it in my throat and in my nose, thick and viscous, like having a cold and needing to cough up phlegm. Thank God I hadn’t had anything to eat or I would have thrown up. Poor Henry wasn’t so lucky – though he just about made it to the bathroom. I suppose I’m just morbidly curious, because despite the stench I walked right in there, holding my cardigan over my nose. The covers were pulled right back from the bed and there was this incredible stain on the mattress, almost like a bruise in the way it faded into different colours and shades. Sort of like a bruise meeting a patch of rusted iron, black and deep red and dark purple and then lighter shades of brown and grey, all in the vague outline of a prone body at the darkest parts, spreading out like some messed up halo as it grew lighter. It was absolutely vile, but fascinating in its own way. At the very least, she had done us the favour of dying in the bed rather than on the floor, because the carpet would have been a lost cause. With this, I reckoned we could throw out the bed and everything on it, air the room out, and it would be good as new.

I needed a little fresh air myself, so I opened the windows wide and then went to see if Henry was alright. He was still retching pretty badly, so I snooped around the spare room a bit – nothing much to see, if I’m honest – and then decided to wait for him in the back garden, where I’d be able to take advantage of the breeze. I was sure I could smell that heavy stench clinging to my hair, and do you know for weeks afterwards I still thought I could smell it? It doesn’t come out, no matter how much you wash it. Anyway, I obviously glanced into Mum’s room on my way out, and immediately I saw something was wrong. The covers were all back on her bed.

Now, I know for a fact they weren’t there before, because I saw the big stain on the mattress. Now the covers were back in place, not tucked in or even overly neat, but definitely covering the bed and tossed around like somebody was curled up under them, asleep. Strangely I didn’t feel scared or even very confused. I kind of… stood there for a moment, wondering how I was seeing what I was seeing, and then quite quickly I just accepted that I was seeing it and there was nothing I could do about that, so I decided to check it out. It’s not something I would ordinarily do, I don’t think – I’m curious, but I’m not touch a bed covered in decomposing body juices curious – but for some reason I just walked in there and pulled back the covers. One fluid movement, like a mother trying to get her teenager up for school. I just yanked it back from the top, near the pillows, and then I finally felt the horror that should have come much sooner.

It was… maggots, obviously. They were everywhere, writhing around in a huge pile, twisting their way over the stain and out of the bedsheets and even crawling up my arm, where I was still holding the covers. I screamed and shook my arm frantically, sending maggots flying in all directions, and immediately they began making their way back to the mass on the bed. It was like there was some kind of gravitational pull dragging them back to that pile of wriggling, twitching creatures, and as I watched I became convinced there was some kind of method to their movements. They were arranging themselves, forming into a shape, and I only dragged my eyes away when Henry appeared in the doorway, looking alarmed. I realised then that I’d screamed, and I tried to play it down – in that moment I wasn’t overly surprised, now I’d had a second to think about it, because yeah, of course there are maggots. They like dead bodies, right? I guessed that after the body was removed there were probably a ton of them in the mattress itself that had wriggled up in search of food, though thinking about it again, I didn’t recall seeing any holes in the cover sheet or anything. I tried to calm down, but something drew my eyes back to the maggots – I think it was the way Henry was just staring at the bed, horrified in a way I’ve never seen before – and I saw that the maggots had… how do I even describe this?

They had sat up. They were sitting, and they were in the vague shape of a person. I could see a head, shoulders, the arms limply by the sides. There was a torso that joined on to the bend of hips and legs stretched out in front, over the bed, the feet disappearing into the covers that were still left. I could see the slight rise in the covers where the feet were. The maggots were still moving around, so the shape was constantly shifting, but I could distinctly see details beginning to emerge. Hair. The sunken pits where eyes should be. A gaping mouth that was opening and closing, a black void behind it, as though the figure was trying to say something. And it was. I could hear this strange voice, like an exhale of air, a voice that was barely there at all – but I knew it was saying my name. Bonnie. Bonnie. I could hear it as clearly as anything. In that moment, it was the loudest thing in the room.

I stumbled backwards, but it was as far as I could go. I was frozen, even as I watched the figure swing itself out of bed and get to unsteady feet. It stumbled towards me like a drunk, wheezing deep in its throat, and I thought it sounded like a laugh. I’m not even saying that with hindsight – it was laughing at me. It was my mother’s laugh, and in that moment I knew she was doing this. I mean, I don’t know if she was, because how could she? But in that moment I thought I knew she was doing it, anyway, and I was so angry at her. I was so damn mad at her, for dying in such a horrible way and leaving me with the mess, for all the stuff she’d pulled on me growing up, for every single thing she had done to me, the big things and the petty things, and now this! She couldn’t even die properly, she had to come back and terrify me and traumatise me and ruin everything! I screamed again, but this time it was just pure, animalistic rage – I’ve never heard myself make such a sound. I looked around and I saw the chair sitting in front of the mirror and I picked it up by the back and chucked it into the air, catching it by the back legs and swinging it at the maggot figure with everything I had. I don’t even know what good I thought it would do, because it was just maggots, but the figure disintegrated around the torso and the maggots scattered to the floor. The figure half-collapsed, just a pair of legs wobbling towards me, and I let out this manic laugh before I saw the maggots were already regrouping. Finally I gathered some of my senses and I turned for the door, yelling at Henry to run. He didn’t need telling twice. We both sprinted down the hall and I think we both jumped clean down the entire set of stairs – or it at least felt like that. We ran out into the street and I pulled my cardigan off and started jumping on it, because I was sure I could feel all those maggots crawling on me. Henry finally grabbed me and pulled me away, and we got into the car and drove off. Left the cardigan right there on the street.

We didn’t really discuss what had happened. I hired a cleaning company that specialised in that kind of clean-up, and they never reported any problems. The house was cleaned up good as new, aired out, all Mum’s stuff either sold or thrown away. Eventually the house sold too, even if it did take a little longer than I’d like. Henry and I got married, managed to buy our first house, and while we’ve mentioned it vaguely a few times we’ve still not really talked about it. I think we both probably mutually agreed that we must have been seeing things, and to be honest I let myself believe that for a while. I mean, there’s no way, right? But recently it’s just been bugging me, and I’ve been dreaming about it. It’s just been on my mind, and I can’t pretend that I didn’t see what I saw any longer. I don’t know if this will be of any use to you, or even if it’s the kind of thing that you go in for, but I thought I would write it down nevertheless. I do feel a little better now, weirdly. I thought reliving it all would make me feel worse, but I’m not going to complain.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Well. That certainly makes me wish I hadn’t eaten lunch before recording. It all seems mostly standard up until the sentient maggot hivemind, and if it had just been Mrs Jennings present I would say it’s possible she might have been mistaken. It’s a fairly specific thing to see, but given the circumstances and the inherent revulsion most people experience when seeing that many maggots at once, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if the stress of the situation resulted in Mrs Jennings believing she saw something unusual. There is, however, one more thing included with this statement – a brief affirmation from Mr Jennings, which, while he chose not to go into detail, does affirm that everything in Mrs Jennings’ statement is true to what he himself witnessed. Of course, he wasn’t present with his wife for the entirety of the time period the statement covers, but he was there at the most important part. One person having such a highly specific hallucination would be a stretch, but two people experiencing the exact same highly specific hallucination is even less likely.

Tim contacted the current residents of the house that used to belong to Mrs Jennings’ mother, but they reported nothing at all unusual in the time they had been living there. They were aware of the fact a death had occurred in the house – just as well, really, as Tim was quite happy to tell them about it – but didn’t seem overly bothered. In fact, Tim reported that they seemed almost disappointed that the house hadn’t come with a resident ghost, though looking at Mrs Jennings’ description of her mother, I’m not entirely sure that’s the kind of ghost they would want to have to house share with.

Tim also managed to get in contact with John Atchieson, owner and operator of Atchieson Cleaning Solutions, a company based in Peterborough that, alongside general domestic and commercial cleaning jobs, also specialises in cleaning up biohazardous materials – crime scenes, accident scenes, natural deaths. The case of Mrs Jennings’ mother was found in their records, and Mr Atchieson could remember nothing unusual about it. In a rare stroke of luck, the employee assigned to oversee the clean up at the house was Mr Atchieson’s son, also named John; Mr Atchieson Senior was able to contact him and ask if he remembered anything specific from the site himself, but apparently there was nothing remarkable about the job at all – just a standard decomposition job, hauling away the hazardous materials and cleaning the room with heavy chemicals to try to get rid of the smell. Mr Atchieson Junior helped remove the mattress himself, and reported no maggots of any kind.

Given the lack of physical evidence I would like to claim that there is no basis to this statement, but considering the fact there are two witnesses and this wouldn’t be the first time that a being apparently made of some kind of larvae or insect has been observed wandering about, I’m more inclined to worry about where Mrs Jennings’ mother may have gone, if she was no longer in her bedroom.

End recording.

[buzzdixonwriter]

COMPARE & CONTRAST: Birth Of A Nation vs Gone With The Wind vs The General

TRIGGER WARNING:   Talking about race in American culture and movies, so some readers may want to brace themselves (looking at you, wypipo).

. . .

Confining “classic films” to movies that: Demonstrate technical expertise, and Influenced other films and creators

-- we have three (and only three) movies about the American Civil War we can safely put in the classic bin.

Before we go further, let’s restate the obvious: A film’s impact in the medium of motion pictures is separate from its impact on the culture as a whole.

Case in point: Leni Riefenstahl’s The Triumph Of The Will is a perfect textbook example of how to stage massive crowd scenes for maximum visual impact, and how to promote individuals and ideas in purely cinematic terms.

It also contributed mightily to the Nazis’ rise to power, their subsequent wars of conquest, and the deaths directly and indirectly of tens of millions of human beings.

It’s important to know The Triumph Of The Will exists and why it’s important in film and cultural and political history, but you need never subject yourself to its vile hate mongering.

With that in mind, let us proceed.

. . . 

Here are the three bona fide classic movies about the American Civil War:

The Birth Of A Nation (1915)

Gone With The Wind (1939) 

The General (1926)

They are all problematic for the same reason: They embrace the “lost cause” myth of Southern white supremacists.

The Birth Of A Nation is by far the worst offender of the trio, helping to restart the Ku Klux Klan and promulgate jim crow for decades to come.

Director D.W. Griffith was a Southern boy, Kentucky born with a father who served as a colonel in the Confederate army (Kentucky, a border slave state, tried to stay neutral at the beginning of the Civil War, then leaned heavily towards secession, but by 1862 threw its lot in with the Union).

Griffith bought into the lost cause myth heavily, and The Birth Of A Nation explicitly states African-Americans are fit only for slavery, becoming a murderous / rapacious mob once freed, and the Ku Klux Klan were gallant heroes attempting to turn this tide.

Griffith tries to have it both ways, depicting Abraham Lincoln as a thoughtful and compassionate leader who would have treated the South better had he survived (ignoring the fact Andrew Johnson did everything in his power to prevent the Union from holding the South accountable, and that Lincoln’s assassin was a Southerner who killed him in revenge after the war ended).

There can be no denying Griffith’s enormous talents as a film maker (again, separating thematic content from the technical expertise).  While the Hollywood publicity machine was quick to claim The Birth Of A Nation was the first feature length film (i.e., 65 minutes or more), the truth is the Australians, the Chinese, the English, the French, the Italians, the Japanese, and the Russians all made feature films long before Griffith, and Griffith wasn’t even the first American to make a feature but was preceded by at least a half a dozen other film makers.

What Griffith was, however, was a master synthesis of all the techniques that preceded him.  Griffith made movies better than anyone else of his era, and his best films are still eminently watchable to this day.

That’s what makes The Birth Of A Nation so harmful and destructive:  Like the Riefenstahl film, it seduced common audiences into complacency while stirring the worst people to action.

It’s a film whose final cost is not measured in dollars but in innocent blood and tears.

Griffith wasn’t stupid, and while he might have felt personally immune to the criticism of his racist attitudes, he was savvy enough to recognize publicly embracing them would not serve his career well.  He followed The Birth Of A Nation with Intolerance, an epic that jumps around in its story lines like a Tarantino film, and in later movies displayed a far gentler albeit still patronizing attitude towards African-Americans.

But the damage was done, the lost cause myth cemented into not just the Southern psyche but white America in general.

Like The Triumph Of The Will, I would never recommend The Birth Of A Nation as a “must see” film to anyone.  If you’re a film historian and you want to subject yourself to this cancer, that’s your choice, but if you’re a student of film there’s nothing Griffith did technically or artistically in this movie that he didn’t do better in his later efforts, and other film makers have since emulated his innovations and built upon them.

. . . 

For many decades Gone With The Wind was celebrated as the pinnacle of American film making, but once the romantic blinders were removed we see it for what it is:  An over long, over blown epic that promulgates what we now recognize as white supremacy, classism, and rape culture.

And while it uses every technical trick in the book, it doesn’t use them as well as Orson Welles did a year later with Citizen Kane.

Gone With The Wind is really two movies:  A well made Civil War epic and its lackluster Reconstruction sequel.

They should have ended the movie with “As God is my witness, I’ll never go hungry again!”  (Seriously.  The only two memorable scenes in the second half other than “I don’t give a damn” both center around Scarlett O’Hara’s dresses.)

Again, let’s emphasize that a technically well made movie does not excuse bad intentions in thematic content.

Gone With The Wind is a rip-roaring bodice-ripping historical novel, admittedly well research and well written by Margaret Mitchell.

She isn’t necessarily writing from a conscious desire to spread the message of white supremacy, but as a Southern gal who grew up in the midst of the lost cause myth, she ends up breathing that message into every line of the book.

The movie version can’t escape that, nor does it try to.  There’s a brief scene early on where both Mitchell and the later film makers prefigure the lost cause myth where Rhett Butler explains to the good ol’ boys at the Tara cotillion that they’re about to be brutally decimated by the Union in a war of attrition, but both author and film makers side with the good ol’ boys and support their God given right to throw away their lives and destroy their homes in an attempt to keep enslaving millions of innocent people.

That last part in bold never gets mentioned, does it?  As others have observed, Gone With The Wind isn’t antagonistic towards African-Americans, rather it treats them as if they don’t exist other that walking / talking props among the scenery.

In that regard, Gone With The Wind is on par with The Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged (only with a far superior writing style).  The protagonists of all three books are narcissistic sociopaths who will lie / cheat / steal / blow up buildings because the common folk -- the people who actually put in the grunt labor to make things work -- are nothing but slaves there for the elites’ entitlements, and God (or market forces, take your pick) help them if they ever raise their heads or voices -- much less their hands -- in protest.

Oh, but doesn’t it look gorgeous?  As those beautiful rich Technicolor gowns and sets and matte paintings.  All those balls and dances.  All those smoldering looks.  All those flames as Atlanta burns…

There’s the true hero of the story:  William Tecumseh Sherman.  The mofo cut the Confederacy in half, destroying lines of supply and communication, obliterating any rebels who dared to stand up to him, shortening the war by several months, and freeing tens of thousands of enslaved people in the process.

None of which would have been necessary if a few greedy bastards such as the O’Haras had lived Christian enough lives to say, “Y’know, maybe the way we’re treating these people is wrong…”

Gone With The Wind proved insanely popular, on a scale with The Birth Of A Nation a generation earlier, and once again it made it easier for mainstream middle American whites to turn a blind eye to injustices still being perpetuated on African-Americans of that day.  

And it kept playing again and again, one of the very few non-Disney movies to enjoy a substantial re-release schedule, popping up about once every seven years in theaters until the arrival of first cable then VHS.

And it’s still popular, still a steady seller in DVD and BluRay.

That’s in no small part to the skill of both Mitchell and the film makers in hiding the most egregiously problematic elements of the story under a think patina of romanticism.  It became a cultural touchstone that everyone knew and everyone could reference, from political cartoons to Carol Burnett skits.

But it’s still racist and white supremacist, saying African-Americans exist only to serve whites.

It’s still classist, saying not all whites are worthy of what the upper class hogs for itself.

It’s still about rape culture, saying all Scarlett needed was one good rape by Rhett Butler to set her straight.

Is it a product of its era?

Absolutely. The same way over the counter heroin at your friendly neighborhood drug store was a product of its era.  The same way cocaine laced Coca-Cola was a product of its era.

Just because it wasn’t recognized as a bad idea then means we should still circulate it now.

Compared to The Birth Of A Nation, Gone With The Wind is a far less hate filled work, and one that inspires less immediate harm.

It has inspired harm over several generations by making it easy to overlook the real harm it represents in favor of a romantic antebellum fantasy.

If someone wants to see a film that represents the Hollywood studio system at the height of its creative power, I’d recommend Casablanca or The Wizard Of Oz.

I’d put Gone With The Wind way down on that list, and I’d caution it with caveats, but I would say it represents a good example of the old Hollywood system firing on all eight cylinders.

At least for the first half of the film.

. . . 

In most ways, Buster Keaton’s The General is the least problematic of these three films.

In another, it’s as bad as Gone With The Wind.

The good thing about The General is that modern audiences can easily enjoy it.

Buster Keaton chasing after a stolen steam locomotive?  What’s not to love?

It’s one of his best comedies and if it’s not the very best, I’d hate to live on the difference.

It certainly lacks the overt racism of The Birth Of A Nation. 

In fact, it almost lacks any race at all.

And ironically, that’s what makes it a problem.

In researching this post, I re-watched The General, something I wasn’t willing to do for The Birth Of A Nation or Gone With The Wind.

I re-watched it looking for African-American faces anywhere in the film.

I think I found four.

Two porters lugging a trunk in an early scene at a train station, possibly two small children with their backs turned to the camera at the edge of a crowd about ten minutes later.

That’s it.

In a movie about one of the most crucial events in American history, an event entirely predicated on the issue of the enslavement of millions of African-Americans…that’s it.

Four faces.

Total screen time: Less than a minute.

If critics can justifiably lambast Gone With The Wind for sailing over the bloodied backs of millions of enslaved African-Americans to focus on the luxury liner S.S. Scarlett O’Hara, what can they say about a Civil War movie that almost succeeds in eradicating those enslaved humans from the story?

Paradoxically, this makes The General the safest of these movies to show an unsuspecting audience.

The Civil War is boiled down to the dark uniform army fighting the light uniform army; why they were fighting is never explored in detail.

But the lost cause myth was so prevalent at that point that Keaton and company didn’t need to discuss the causes of the war.

Audiences – even those completely ignorant of U.S. history -- automatically assume the light uniform army are the good guys simply because Buster is on their side.

Buster would never do anything bad, would he?

Of course not!

And so -- =poof!= -- millions of people erased from history.

Top that, Thanos.

To be honest, I don’t know how a modern audience should react to that, in particular an African-American audience.

Disappointment at being culturally short changed again?

Relief at being spared the most egregious stereotyping and white supremacy apologies?

Or just plain enjoy Buster chasing after a stolen locomotive?

The General’s cultural weightlessness helps it become a great film.

It’s a purely cinematic endeavor, with the intertitles used primarily to explain the spies’ and military leaders’ plans and motives, not tell us what Buster is thinking and doing.

For a guy called “the great stone face” Buster could be awfully expressive with his body language, and he needs title cards the least of all the performers in this movie

. . .

So where does that leave us, as a 21st century audience in a 21st century culture?

We can neither deny nor ignore the impact of these three films.  Even The Birth Of A Nation, as vile and as hateful as it is, influenced the country and the countries attitudes for a century.

Gone With The Wind feels like something we’ve outgrown, something some audience members can look back on with fondness, but not anything we can fully embrace again.

The General can still make us laugh, and in this case the sin of omission seems far less than the others’ sins of commission.

Learn from the past.

Do better in the future.

    © Buzz Dixon

[cauliflowercounty]

Weasley vs Weasley Pt. I (Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader) [Tumblr Remaster]

Blood Status:  Half-Blood or Pureblood 

House: Gryffindor

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N:  Weasley vs. Weasley was a series of imagines I originally posted on my Wattpad.  It’s one of my favorite series of imagines I’ve made, but I wrote it years ago; I wanted to make an updated version with a few new twists and in second person instead of third.  I’ll be releasing it in multiple parts :)  Enjoy!

You are the Molly and Arthur Weasley’s adopted daughter and in the same year as Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Not proofread, it’s 1:30am when I’m writing this!  Woohoo! Enjoy!

----

The compartment sways gently side to side as the Hogwarts Express barrels down the Scottish countryside train rack.  You sit silently in the train car scrunched in between Harry and the wall. Ron and Hermione sit across from you.  Hermione, of course, has her nose in a book while Ron sits awkwardly, thinking of how to make conversation since the initial excitement of getting on the train has worn off.  As you feel the train turn the corner, the twins knock gently on the glass of the door and slide it open, giving everyone a wave while shoving themselves in between Hermione and Ron.  Ron lets out an audible grumble as Fred pushes his brother into the window.

“Hello, everyone,” Fred and George say in unison.  

“Lee’s off trying to persuade some second years to be our test subjects for some prototype sweets,” Fred says, smirking.

“Yeah, our initial line was brilliant, but we’re expanding our offerings. It’s what the student body deserves,” George adds on.

“We’re also thinking of firecrackers,” Fred continues.  “We’ll charm them to make shapes.  Maybe a Chinese Fireball?  What do you say, y/n?”

“That sounds brilliant, Freddie.  You should write it down before you forget,” you smile, knowing their products have been a much-anticipated aspect of their lives lately.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive the public of some much-needed mayhem causing items.”

“While we love mayhem, we’re also thinking of selling some seriously useful items.  We’re thinking of importing some items from Peru that will help with being sneaky.  Maybe also some muggle magic that people can use casually.  We also want to be practical.  Not everything will explode,” George smiles, thinking of how all their products and dreams will be soon realized.  

“But wouldn’t that be brilliant if everything did explode?” Fred laughs. “Also love potions will be sold at our shops.”

“Did I hear someone say love potions?” Ginny says, poking her head in through the door.  “Is that one of the products you two are cooking up?”

“Well, dear sister, we’re not brewing them.  We’ll buy them from someone who’s gotten into N.E.W.T. level potions unlike us two,” Fred chuckles.  “We don’t want to be liable for disastrous love potions because I’m sure they’ll be popular.”

“Our sisters won’t need them, though.  It’s for the more desperate general public.  They’ll have no problem finding a special someone,” George says encouragingly, shooting his two younger sisters a smile. With his words, your chest tenses, the someone you’d like to have as your special someone coming to mind. Fred and George notice your reaction immediately. They look over to you and notices how you’re clutching the hem of your jacket roughly.

“What’s with that reaction, y/n?” Ron asks, picking up on what the twins are noticing.  Internally, your nerves jump. Hopefully they can’t tell who you’re thinking of.  

“Nothing, Ronald,” you say almost too quickly. “I was just thinking of a dream I had about school the other night.  I failed all my O.W.L.s.  I’m just suffering from residual anxiety.”

“I find that hard to believe, y/n,” Fred smiles.  “You don’t have stress dreams like that and you suddenly got tense when we started talking about love and special someones.”

“Do you have someone you’re hiding?” George asks, leaning in to look you in the eye with Fred.  They bore into your eyes, inquisitive and intense.  

“... or got anyone you fancy?” they say in synchronicity. “Come on… Tell us.” 

Hermione and Harry look up from what they were doing, now completely invested in the new development.

“N-no…,” you trail off.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  You’d think badly of me.”

“We could never,” Ron butts in.  They all lean closer to you, putting on the peer pressure. Fred and George suddenly tackle you, starting to clobber and tickle you.  Hedwig and Pigwidgeon both hoot in protest at the sudden disturbance to their mostly peaceful journey.  You struggle against the twins’ grips.

“Fred!  George!  Come on!” you shout protest, half laughing.  You try to dash between them, but they’re too fast and lock you between them in a tight full-body hold.  You squirm in their grasp but to no avail.  “Fred.  George.  Let go.  Please?”

“Not until you tell us,” they say in a sing-songy voice. You sigh.  This is what you get when you have so many siblings: inescapable, coercive hugs.  

“You’ll regret asking once I tell you,” you say.  They shake their heads.

“Not a chance,” they say back.

“It’s…,” you start, hesitating.  This’ll ruin you. You open your mouth and whisper, “it’s… Malfoy...”

“DID YOU JUST SAY ‘MALFOY?’” everyone in the compartment gasps in unison as the twins drop you. 

“I told you you’d regret it,” you grumble to everyone. “Happy?”

“Not really,” Fred responds cheekily.

“Why?” Ron asks, feeling bewildered and utterly betrayed. 

“I-I don’t know… I just know he it’s what he seems. I saw him one time a while ago… His owl was hurt and he was bandaging its foot. He seemed to care for it so much. There have been a lot of little things,” you explain, realizing it’s sort of hopeless as everyone stares at you, disgusted.

“Little things count for nothing,” Ron scoffs, roiling usinehes and propping his head up on a clenched fist

“It just grew. I don’t have a good reason. I’m sure it’ll fade,” you defend, “but I think that in the end, Malfoy may not be as bad as everyone makes him out to be. I’m sure we’d all have turned out like Malfoy if we had Lucius as a father.”

“But everything he stands for is so vile,” Harry says, infuriated. “I can’t believe it…”

“And what about all the stuff he’s done to Hermione?” Ron adds on.

“Come on. Now you’re ridiculing me. You walked into this one,” you quip back. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you absolutely had to know.”

“Dad’s head is going to blow off,” Fred comments, taking a seat once again.

“Percy’s also going to be furious… You know how protective he is over y/n...,” George adds, everyone nodding in agreement. Ginny, flustered, turns around and leaves the compartment in a huff. 

“Is it okay if we don’t talk about this again?” you ask shyly. “I’m sure it’ll pass. This Malfoy thing is temporary. It’s stupid.”

Hermione and Harry nod in agreement, but Fred and George notice a look in your eye as you gaze out the window. They know you. They know that you lied just now. It’s not temporary.

~

As soon as it came, autumn went and turned into soft blankets of snow. You smile as you look out of your dorm room in Gryffindor tower, the icicles hanging down in front of the panes of glass. It’s been months since the awkward mishap in the Hogwarts Express. Nobody’s said a word since and things have been normal for the most part, but Ginny hasn’t looked at you the same and you’ve noticed the twins whispering to each other in low voices and suddenly stopping once they notice you. Each time, you’ve shrugged it off, assuming it’s about a prank, but a prank never came. 

Today, you head out of Gryffindor tower with plans to go get a book from the library to read at breakfast and then go to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer. After getting dressed, you slip through the portrait hole and head towards the library. As you round the corner on your way, you crash into someone else.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t looking where I was going…”

Looking up, you realize you just walked staring into Draco Malfoy, and your throat goes dry with nervousness and embarrassment. 

“Uhh… Sorry, Malfoy,” you say lowly, attempting to duck to the side of him and forget that even happened. You weren’t in the mood for a nasty one on one confrontation with Draco Malfoy today.

“Wait!” you hear him say from behind you. You turn around to look at him as he walks closer.

“What are you doing? Are you going to insult me for being a clumsy lowlife?” you ask, your heart sinking. He’d never say anything nice, not in a million years no matter how much you wanted him to. “That’s what my siblings and I are used to.  I wouldn’t be surprised. After all, poor people like us don’t have manners. We weren’t raised right.”

“Is that really what you think of me?” Draco asks a bit too softly, his steely grey eyes looking right into yours. You back up a step, not expecting him to look at you directly and not be shouting in your face. This is new and unexpected, but it’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.

“Well… I’ve come to anticipate it,” you reply honestly. 

“That’s too bad,” Draco replies. “I’ve got a lot to learn I guess…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’ll tell you if you come to Hogsmeade with me,” Draco smiles. “Will you come with me?”

“Now?” you ask. “I’ven’t had breakfast yet.”

“We can get it there,” he shrugs. 

“Why do you want to take me to Hogsmeade?  You’re Draco Malfoy. I’m y/n Weasley.”

“All your questions will be answered there, y/n. I just want to talk to you. Do you trust me?”

Hesitantly, you nod. He holds out his arm and you take it. He leads you down to the courtyard and towards the carriages to Hogsmeade. None of them have left yet, and you both climb into the first one and then you’re off.

You both hop off in the village and go striaight to the Three Broomsticks. Draco holds the door for you and lets you sit down in the booth and get comfortable first. Madam Rosmerta comes and takes your order: two butterbeers and some food for breakfast. He smiles at you from across the table as you take a sip of the mug of butterbeer, thanking him quietly for paying. He clears his throat.

“So…” he smiles.

“So…” you say back. “Will you answer my questions?”

“Of course,” Draco replies. “I got a small note in my bag the other day. I don’t know who it’s from. It just appeared all of a sudden. It just said ‘Tell y/n the truth. Go for it, Malfoy.’ That’s all. You’re probably wondering why that brings us here. Truth is… I’ve liked you for a while now, y/n.  I just needed some encouragement to say something.  I’ve been so caught up with what my father wants for me for the past few years that I forgot to think about what I want to do with my life. I’ve fancied you for a while. I reckon it wasn’t obvious because of how I’ve treated you. I was just so, so obsessed with being like my father and I was confused. I needed to sort out my priorities. I’ve done some thinking lately and it’s time to make a change. That’s why I said ‘I have a lot to learn’ because I do. I just wanted to tell you the truth. I’m done being so unpleasant toward you and your family.”

Your mouth hangs completely wide open. You didn’t expect this. This might even be a dream. Draco Malfoy saying he was confused? And he’s making a change? No. You always thought that Draco would be cold and indifferent towards you for the rest of your years at Hogwarts, you’d graduate and then forget about him, settling for another person, but no. He just confessed to fancying you. 

“Y/n? Please say something? I’m going out on a limb here. I’ve never been this vulnerable in my life… I know it’ll take a long time to unlearn my bad habits, and I know that not all people are willing to be that patient with someone, but I’ve known you for years. We’ve been in the same classes. You’re kind and considerate and easygoing with people. You’re compassionate and when you laugh you make me want to smile. I understand if history is against me and it’s alright if you reject me here and now, but… I just wanted to say ‘I’m sorry. Will you give me a chance?’” he pleads, reaching over the table his hand hovering over yours, scared to grab your hand and have you pull away. Still flabbergasted, you look off to the side and see nobody’s come into the Three Broomsticks yet.

“Wow… Draco… I don’t know what to say… This is so sudden,” you gasp. “I’m completely taken aback. I had no idea that you liked me… Nothing you’ve done in the past would have hinted at it. Nothing.”

“You’re right, y/n,” Draco sighs, ready to admit defeat, thinking this is hopeless.

“Are you serious about this? Your confession?” you ask. “ Tell me the truth.”

“Absolutely.” His reply is sound. His eyes look into yours warmly. With remorse. You begin to smile softly at him. 

“Okay, Malfoy. I’ll give you a chance,” you decide with a nod.  With your words, Draco explodes with glee, slapping the table with excitement.

“Thank you, y/n!” he blurts out. “You will not regret this.”

“I sure hope I don’t,” you smile. “Now, how about we finish eating and walk around a bit?”

Draco grins like a kid who’s just sneaked five handfuls of cookies from the cupboard and nods, taking a sip from his drink. As you two sit across from each other, you share pleasant conversation, laughing about family and school. You laugh about how you’re both almost complete opposites. He’s a Slytherin; you’re a Gryffindor. You have seven siblings; he has none. You’re adopted; he’s not. You laugh and joke. You share stories from your past and your heart warms, enjoying having someone new to talk to who makes you feel unlike you ever had before.  You can’t remember a day that you smiled this much.

After you’re done in the Three Broomsticks, you both walk around the village, going into Honeydukes and Zonko’s. The day comes to a close and you both agree to do it again sometime. As you both go your separate ways you both fail to notice Fred, George, and Ginny spying on you from around the corner.

“That’s what I call a success,” Fred smirks to his siblings. Ginny scowls in your direction as you disappear down the hallway towards Gryffindor tower. 

“I’m glad the note worked. The three months of spying on Malfoy to see if he fancied her was exhausting. We had to use Omnioculars to see him writing in his paper his initials and y/n’s with a heart in his notebook from above,” George sighs, exhausted. He looks over to his sister, whose grumbling to herself under her breath.  “What’s gotten into you, Gin?”

“Why’d you two go to all this trouble for someone so toxic?” Ginny asks.  “This will only end in disaster.  Y/n and Draco Malfoy together can only end in a dumpster fire. He’s not a good influence.”

“You sound like Mum, Ginny,” Fred retorts.  “Y/n seemed to be satisfied with today and that’s enough. I haven’t seen her smile so much in a long time. Last time she smiled like that was when Georgie and my products first arrived.”

“Why are you going to so much trouble for her?” Ginny asks glumly.  “She was perfectly happy before.”

“Well… Georgie and I talked about it.  Y/n’s always felt a little bit alone and in the middle of things.  Even though we love y/n and she loves us, she’s self-conscious about being adopted sometimes. When we’re all together, she can be quiet sometimes.  She gets lonely and doesn’t feel like she belongs even though she completely does.  She’s a Weasley, after all, but she feels like the other Weasley.  We’ve noticed her feeling like that lately and we wanted to make her happy.  Someone she can maybe identify with on a personal level other than us,” Fred explains, careful of his wording.

“What’s there do identify with when it comes to Malfoy?”  Ginny grumbles, refusing to believe that y/n could possbly relate to someone as vile and cruel as Draco Malfoy

“Maybe not identify with.  Maybe just to have around.  Having that other person that you enjoy the company of,”  George adds.  

“Why did it have to be Malfoy?”

“Relationships can stem from the most unlikely of places,” George reasons.

“This is trouble, you two.  Y/n doesn’t need him. She has her family.  How can she feel lonely in our family when there’s so many of us.  You’re meddling with y/n’s emotions because you don’t think ahead.  This needs to be fixed,” Ginny decided, turning on her heels while trying to compile her course of action.  The twins look at each other with a worried expression.  What is Ginny thinking of doing?

----

Read Part II!

[dreamscapefics]

HEY OMG, i have a prompt,, normal witcher universe except people have animal traits/features so Jaskier is a catboy...black kitty ears and a fluffy tail while Geralt has wolf ears and a tail,,it mostly goes all okay, Geralt even starts accepting and making J a member of Pack, then J ends up going into Heat (magic? Was it just his time? Who knows) and since G has already made J pack, it makes sense that he would help fill his kitty up (go Absolutely insane with whatever kinks u wanna give em ❤️)

I finally managed to finish the last one-fourth of this fic. Thank you so much for sending this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing it, despite the writer’s block haha. I hope you, and everyone who sees this, like reading this.

Brief explanation: I made a few tweaks about the Alpha/Omega aspect. In this ‘verse, Omegas are intersex. When they present, their organs and anatomy shift accordingly. That said, they’re unable to get pregnant unless they go into Heat, and they only go into Heat when they meet a viable mate. Even after they meet their mate, it can still take a long time before a Heat is triggered. They can still have sex, of course, but they just can’t get pregnant when they’re not in heat.

Tags: animal features on human body (partial animal transformation? Idk the right term), Alpha/Omega, breeding, knotting, cunnilingus

~*~

It’s believed that wolves and cats don’t really get along. They can co-exist and interact, yes, but only when it’s absolutely necessary. For the most part they choose not to because it’s not in their nature as a species. Alpha wolves and cats have a tendency to be aggressive towards one another, whereas Betas and Omegas are more manageable.

But an Alpha wolf and Omega cat? That’s an association that’s rarely, if never, heard of.

So when Geralt, an Alpha wolf, met Jaskier, an Omega cat, in Posada all those years ago, he never expected for the feline bard to stick to him, much else befriended him. Jaskier, with his black kitty ears on top of his tousled chestnut hair, almost always has his black fluffy tail held high, alerting Geralt that the young man enjoys being in the wolf’s presence. And Geralt, internally exasperated at his own biological urges, is unable to stop his own fluffy white tail from wagging back and forth, a clear indication that he’s just as happy to have the bard around.

Of course, the beginning of their companionship (friendship?) was filled with arguments and disagreements. It still is to this day, but it was a lot worse then. They’re both territorial creatures, and Jaskier had a tendency to rub his scent all over Geralt’s things, which the wolf witcher didn’t appreciate at first. Then there was the issue of taking on contracts, which Geralt has gotten used to doing on his own. So having Jaskier tag along, prancing about the place while strumming his lute, his black tail poised high as he talks Geralt’s ear off about the monster they’re hunting and the inspiration Jaskier will gain from witnessing the impending fight. It took several months before Geralt got used to having another creature around, his enhanced senses extending to look after his feline friend for any sign of trouble.

Years passed and they slowly grew more comfortable around each other. Geralt still gets pissed and growls at Jaskier whenever he smells the bard’s scent on his things, in which Jaskier would answer with a twitch of his tail. The first time he wrapped his tail around Geralt, it happened a few years into their friendship. They passed by a village who was vitriolic towards Geralt’s kind, spitting vile comments about him. So when he felt a brush of Jaskier’s fluffy tail around his waist, Geralt blinked at the unfamiliar gesture but remained calm. It’s only when they left the village that he allowed his own tail to lightly brush against Jaskier’s rear, who turned to Geralt with a sunny smile, his kitty ears twitching happily.

From that moment, Geralt knew that Jaskier was going to be with him for the long haul. It’s then that he decided to officially welcome Jaskier to his Pack by inviting the feline to winter with him at Kaer Morhen that year.

Jaskier accepted, obviously, and while Geralt was excited, he was also nervous at the prospect of introducing Jaskier to his fellow wolf witchers, not knowing whether his brothers will get along with his feline friend. But his fears were unfounded when Eskel and Lambert reacted favorably to Jaskier and vice versa. Even Vesemir’s grey tail twitched in curiosity upon meeting Jaskier, and his small nod aimed at Geralt was one of approval which made the witcher nearly sag in relief, heedless of his white tail wagging.

Everything was great that winter. Jaskier sang for them almost every night and Geralt took him on a tour around the Keep, showing him his favorite places and voluntarily sharing stories to the eager bard about his time growing up there and what he and his brothers went through to become a witcher.

To say that Jaskier was moved to tears would be an understatement because that night, Jaskier crawled into Geralt’s bed. He curled his body around Geralt, his black fluffy tail wrapping almost possessively around him which made Geralt huff in amusement. But he also wrapped an arm around Jaskier, fingers running through his tousled hair and kitty ears while his own tail curled around the bard’s.

~

After that, Jaskier always went with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. They still go their separate ways for a few months or an entire season, but they make sure to always reunite by autumn, having agreed beforehand to meet at a city or town.

Even after ten years of traveling together, they still get a lot of stares. Some confused, some frightened, while others give them judgmental stares, eyes drifting from Geralt’s hulking form to Jaskier’s lithe body. Yes, it’s still unheard of for wolves and cats to be voluntarily traveling together, but an Alpha wolf and an Omega cat? Oh, the perverse shit Geralt has heard over the years from passersby.

“The bard is probably the monster’s sex slave.”

“How can a feline degrade themself to a fucking witcher?”

“Melitele, can you smell them? Their scents are basically entwined!”

“I bet the witcher’s knot is magical for the kitty bard to stay with him.”

Geralt doesn’t think the Jaskier ever heard those comments about them, because if he did then his friend would’ve likely gone feral on them - hissing barbed insults at them, body taut and tail puffed up.

Still, given their reputation as traveling companions, it’s a wonder they both managed to have sex at all. Geralt has the brothels while Jaskier has, well, anyone willing to bed a feline bard whose best friend is an Alpha wolf witcher. In the years they’ve known each other, Geralt has never seen Jaskier go into Heat; even the bard admitted that he hasn’t experienced it since he presented as an Omega.

“I guess I haven’t met my mate yet,” Jaskier says with a nonchalant shrug, but Geralt can smalle the sorrow and insecurity in the bard’s scent.

Geralt hums and brushes his tail against Jaskier, whose tail is slowly swishing back and forth. The feline looks at him with a sweet smile, and Geralt’s chest tightens at the sight.

He’s been having these peculiar feelings for Jaskier lately. Geralt can’t pinpoint when it began, but he knows he only became aware of it when they reunited a month ago in Oxenfurt. He’s not certain if it’s just a passing thing or something more permanent, but regardless Geralt doesn’t like to see one of his pack members sad. While a part of him is guilty for feeling happy that Jaskier hasn’t met his mate yet, a part of Geralt wishes he could be that person for Jaskier instead. He loves the bard, he’s Geralt’s best friend. He looks after him and cares for him and is there for him whenever Jaskier gets in trouble.

By the time they begin their trek up the Blue Mountains for Kaer Morhen, Geralt has pushed away all thoughts of him and Jaskier becoming more to the back of his mind. There’s no space for silly fantasies in the life of a witcher. The Path is all that matters, and Geralt can’t allow himself such distractions.

And for a while it worked. Barely, but it worked.

Until two years later when Jaskier went into heat in Kaer Morhen.

~

Geralt takes a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He hears a muffled, “Come in”, before he opens it and quickly gets in, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, I brought you some broth Vesemir prepared,” Geralt announces as he makes his way to the form slumped in the middle of the bed. Like all the other beds in the keep, it’s huge and can accommodate at least three grown witchers, the mattress wrapped in soft, thick furs. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my insides are being scraped by a rusty spoon,” Jaskier croaks out, his smile coming out more as a grimace. His cat ears are turned sideways, chestnut hair disheveled as a few locks of hair cling to his sweaty forehead and neck. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Geralt perches on the side of the bed, breathing carefully through his mouth so as not to inhale more of Jaskier’s tantalizing scent. He’s always smelled a bit like catnip, lavender, and cantaloupe. But now that he’s in the first stage of his heat, Geralt can detect something spicy sweet, as well as something musky that only heats generate. Overall, Geralt is already addicted to Jaskier’s heat scent, his cock hardening further in his loose breeches.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Geralt says as he places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “But like Vesemir said, it would help if you told us who triggered your heat. There’s still time to track them down the mountains.”

Jaskier flushes, ducking his head to spoon soup into his mouth. Geralt cocks his head when he smells a hint of nervousness and embarrassment in his friend’s scent.

“You’re nervous,” he points out. “And embarrassed.” Geralt narrows his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”

“N-nothing!” Jaskier shakes his head, but even Geralt doesn’t need his witcher senses to detect the lie. “It’s nothing, Geralt. It was probably that foxy blacksmith I slept with at the town before last.”

Geralt growls low and continues to look at him, unimpressed.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says in a gruff voice. “Stop lying to me, Jask. Who is it?”

“It’s… I.” Jaskier shakes his head and spoons another mouthful of soup. Beside him, his black, fluffy tail twitches. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

Knowing he won’t get an answer if he prods further, Geralt decides to take a different approach. He clears his throat, his turn to be nervous as he psyches himself for what he’s about to ask. Offer. If this is the only time… Geralt internally shakes his head and clears his throat once more. Behind him, his tail twitches nervously.

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me who, then… I have a suggestion.” Geralt pauses, waiting until he has Jaskier’s full attention, the feline bard tilting his head slightly with a curious glint in his eye. Nodding, Geralt carries on. “If you are amenable, and since it’s your first heat after so long, I... hmm. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat pick up, the bard gulping audibly as he stares wide-eyed at Geralt.

“What are you, um, are you suggesting...” he falters, cheeks darkening.

Geralt slowly nods his head. “I’m offering to, um, help you. With your heat. If that’s okay with you.”

Jaskier is silent for several seconds, and Geralt is starting to become more nervous when --

“Geralt, I…” Jaskier swallows. Geralt can smell the honeyed scent of excitement as Jaskier’s kitty ears perk up, turning wide blue cat-eyes on Geralt’s golden. “You silly witcher, you’re the reason why I’m in heat. It’s you who triggered it.” At Geralt’s stunned silence, Jaskier lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Say something, you brute.”

“So you…” Want to share your heat with me? You’re my mate?

Jaskier, his smile breathtaking and blue eyes blown wide with arousal, nods his head.

“Yes.”

I want you with me.

Yes, we’re mates.

Something in Geralt unfurls and snaps. Surging forward, he takes Jaskier’s sweaty face into his hands and kisses him, careful to not knock the tray of hot soup over the bard, his mate. Jaskier lets out a punched out groan as he returns Geralt’s kiss, nipping and sucking as their tongues battle for dominance, quickly turning it into something filthy and scorching.

The next few minutes are a blur. Somehow, in their frenzied state, Geralt managed to set aside the food tray on the cold stone floor as he helped Jaskier get out of his damp clothes. It doesn’t take long for Geralt to shuck off his own garments, his mate pushing down the thick furs to the end of the bed as he turns over on his belly. Jaskier is on his knees and forearms by the time Geralt steps out of his smallclothes, and his arousal spikes when he catches a glimpse of his wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier arches his back, tail flicking in excitement and wiggling his ass at the witcher as he purrs, “That’s the plan, darling. Please, please come and fuck me. Want your knot so bad.”

“Fuck, Jask.”

Not needing to be told twice, Geralt gets back on the bed and positions himself behind his needy mate. Licking his lips, Geralt gently pushes the other man’s legs wider before taking his plump cheeks in both hands and spreading them apart. Geralt absentmindedly kisses the fluffy tail curling around his neck, but rather than stick his cock in, Geralt leans closer to Jaskier’s taint and inhales the tantalizing scent. His eyes nearly roll back into his head at the ripe smell of his mate, and without hesitation he buries his face in Jaskier’s cunt, tongue lapping at the sweet juices dripping from his hole.

Jaskier’s gasp of shock quickly turns into a breathless moan, his thighs quivering as Geralt takes the little nub between his lips and sucks.

“Ah, ah!” Jaskier gasps out, his head thrown back in pleasure. “Geralt, I - ah! Fuck!”

Geralt moans from where his tongue is buried inside Jaskier, chest rumbling as he breathes in the sweet, musky smell. He licks into Jaskier’s hot, wet channel before stiffening his tongue and fucking his mate. He uses the hands gripping the cheeks apart to push and pull his mate from his tongue, Jaskier thrusting back against Geralt’s face with expletives and moans that would give a whore a run for their money.

He spends several minutes worshipping Jaskier’s cunt, and he alternates between fucking his loose, wet hole and licking a stripe from his little nub to his tailbone. Jaskier’s fluffy tail twitches and Geralt can’t help but lay a sweet, small kiss at the base before diving back in to lick and taste more of his mate’s sweet juices. Jaskier cums with Geralt’s tongue plunging in and out of his hole, and the witcher laps it all up while Jaskier rides out his orgasm.

Giving one last kiss to the swollen nub, Geralt gets up on his knees once more and grips Jaskier’s hips as he finally guides his cock to his mate’s leaking entrance. He slowly sinks into the tight, wet heat, and loud groans of pleasure echo in the spacious room as Geralt bottoms out.

When he breathes out and inhales, Geralt is then made aware of a new smell. It’s a cloying scent, not overpowering but present, blending perfectly with the existing smells that Jaskier has already been producing. His heat has officially begun.

At the thought of his mate officially in heat, and it’s all thanks to him, Geralt growls low at the back of his throat as he pulls out before thrusting back in. Jaskier’s moans urge him to set a fast and brutal pace, and Geralt is unrelenting as he begins to ram his cock in his mate’s cunt. He has a tight grip on Jaskier’s hips, whose hands are gripping the sheets below as he lets out breathy ah, ah, ah’s as Geralt continues to fuck his brains out.

“So good, so fucking good,” Jaskier chants, eyes hazy with lust and pleasure as he attempts to meet Geralt’s thrusts. Their tails entwine lazily, black and snow white twisting around each other on Geralt’s flanks. “Fuck - ah! Geralt, fuck me harder.”

“Insatiable minx,” Geralt says roughly, but there’s a feral smile on his face. He adjusts his grip and position and does as he’s told. From the new angle he’s fucking Jaskier, and by the deep, throaty moans his mate is emitting, he knows he’s hitting that sweet spot.

Jaskier tuts. “More like an insatiable pussy for you, darling.”

Geralt snorts in amusement and elects not to say anything, except to fuck his insatiable bard harder until Jaskier’s hands are pressed against the headboard to avoid hitting his head. After some time, Geralt presses down against Jaskier’s back to bite and suck a ring of bruises across his shoulders and nape. He trails his hands up to pinch and tweak at Jaskier’s sensitive nipples, the bard howling and buckling against Geralt’s hard thrusts. Geralt lifts his head to nose at Jaskier’s hair and kitty ears, playfully nipping at one twitching ear before licking it.

Jaskier’s breath hitch at the gesture, and Geralt’s knot swells as he inwardly smirks before doing it again. He traces the shape of Jaskier’s feline ear with the tip of his tongue, and below him Jaskier’s breathing quickens, his moans rising an octave higher as Geralt nips it again before moving to the other ear and giving it the same treatment.

“G-Geralt, fuck,” Jaskier mewls. He removes one hand that’s pressed to the headboard to claw at Geralt, blunt nails digging into the meat of the witcher’s hip and ass.

“You like that, kitty?” Geralt purrs in his ear. “You like having a wolf cock in your kitty pussy?”

“Yes!”

“So fucking tight and wet for me, kitty. You feel so good, so perfect.”

“F-fuck, Geralt, please!”

“What is it you want, kitty?”

“Y-you! Your knot! Want my Alpha’s knot!” Jaskier sobs.

Geralt snarls. “And you’ll have my knot, Omega.”

Half a dozen thrusts later, Geralt brings two fingers to rub at Jaskier’s little nub. And with a final thrust, he pushes his knot inside Jaskier’s tight channel as his mate cums with a scream, body convulsing at the intensity of his second orgasm. Geralt can feel his knot swell, locking the two together as his cock pulses and shoots thick ropes of cum.

After, Geralt carefully arranges them so they’re lying on their sides, still connected as he shoots another load of cum inside Jaskier, his mate purring contentedly in his arms.

“That was incredible,” Jaskier slurs, pessing his sweaty back against the witcher’s front.

Geralt hums contentedly, eyes closed as he breathes in their mixed scents. He kisses the back of Jaskier’s neck and murmurs, “Rest, love.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier hums back. Then after a few seconds of blessed silence, “Then you’ll fuck me again, right? And knot me again?”

Geralt huffs out a laugh and tightens his grip around Jaskier, his hand resting possessively over his mate’s heart.

“I’ll knot you as many times as you want, kitty.”

Jaskier purrs. “Perfect. My Alpha.”

“My Omega,” Geralt rumbles, kissing one of Jaskier’s black kitty ears. “Sleep now, love.”

Jaskier hums and does just that, their tails curled almost protectively around each other as they both fall into a peaceful slumber.

~*~

A/N: If you think my writing’s a bit weird towards the end, yeah it’s been a while for me haha. Thanks for reading!

Also, I don’t think future filled out prompts will have this kind of length. It would depend, I guess, and never say never, right? But just wanted to give you guys a head’s up beforehand.