#but also to make these conversations desirable

[thanergetic-hyperlinks]

Tamsyn Muir's writing beyond The Locked Tomb

Y'all, turns out there's lots of imagery and themes in TLT that Muir was already playing with in her earlier fiction. A lot of it is easily available online, in which case I'll link to it. (The short stories that aren't can also be easily read if googled, to be quite honest—that's how I read The Deepwater Bride and Why the Mermaids Left Boralus). • The House That Made the Sixteen Loops of Time (2011)

5K. Short sort-of-cozy romance (?) with (you guessed it) a time travel loop. Explores a very queer potential relationship. CamPal enjoyers might find a similar sweetness.

• The Magician's Apprentice (2012, Lightspeed Magazine)

5K. This is the one that stopped me dead on my tracks. It features an older, male mentor figure called John (a “very ordinary man” with “dark eyes”) who introduces the young, female main character to magic that has a terrible cost—and to literature such as Lolita. This excellent post by @familyabolisher does an incredible job of analyzing the very deliberate intertextual links between TLT and Lolita.

• The Woman in the Hill (2015, Lightspeed Magazine, originally for Dreams From the Witch House anthology of Lovecraftian horror by women)

4K. Possibly my favorite! It's a straightforward Lovecraftian horror, centered on the image of the woman (is it human though?) trapped in an unnatural pool inside a cursed cave. Chain imagery too. It does something different from Alecto, mind, but you can see links, ways of playing with facets of a strong central image. It's fun to consider how reliable the two narrators are. Here's an analysis and afterthought from Reactor Mag.

• Chew (2013) 4K. Zombie abuse and cannibalistic revenge story ft. an uncanny woman revenant, told from the eyes of a traumatized German boy. I was strongly reminded of Harrow's conversations with the Body. Tamsyn gave an interview on the themes and her intentions. Interesting to read in light of Alecto, I think, although I don't think she's going the same route in TLT: “the idea of post-war rebuilding connecting to rebuilding the body of the zombie; a Frankenstein who once rebuilt doesn’t act as planned or desired. […] I love cannibalism […] it’s innately spiritual […] any afterlife she goes to, he’s going too.”

• Apothecia (2014, published on Tumblr and tapas.io)

Short webcomic where an alien monster tries to corrupt the ruthless human girl who holds it captive. Musings on responsibility and murder, mention of child abuse. The alien's speech patterns remind me of a Resurrection Beast. You get wonderful dialogue like “Murder is a profession. Job. Employment, you tiny leg dog. There you are, walking along. Walk walk walk. Now you are a walker. Good job. Special child. Murder is like this.” Art by Shelby Cragg.

• The Deepwater Bride (2015, Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine)

The opening line is: “In the time of our crawling Night Lord's ascendancy, foretold by exodus of starlight into his sucking astral wounds, I turned sixteen and received Barbie's Dream Car.” Need I say more? Extremely fun. A novelette where a young queer girl from a clairvoyant family struggles with an apocalyptic event while being annoyed by another very plucky girl. Lots of descriptions with nerdy marine zoology terms. Close in tone to Gideon. In the background, someone dies EXACTLY like that one death at the end of Gideon, which makes me wonder what happened to make Tamsyn interested in this particular image. I also liked that Tamsyn is aware of Nightwish. No link, but you'll get a PDF immediately if you Google.

• Union (2015, Clarkesworld Magazine)

5.5K. Very weird, extremely Kiwi story about a town that gets sent lab-grown wives by the government, but they're not made the usual way so they're Weird and people have feelings about it. Fascinating and eerie description of non-human (in some people's eyes, sub-human) women (?) who cannot be observed to have recognizable feelings or thoughts, yet have some sort of inner life. Quite touching, very uncanny.

• Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower (2020)

Short novel (~200 pages). Very funny. I was reminded of Coronabeth because the whole plot is “princess finds herself branching out into decidedly non-princess-like activities”, but other than that—this is a fairytale for adults about people who make eachother worse. No particular links to TLT but a very fun read with some gut punches. Extremely Tamsyn through and through, what with the dubious morality and all.

• Why the Mermaids Left Boralus (2021, in Folk & Fairy Tales of Azeroth by Blizzard Entertainment)

Set in the World of Warcraft universe. Haven't read this one yet, will report back lmao. As with The Deepwater Bride, no link but I easily found a PDF of the entire compilation. It's illustrated!

• Undercover (2022, from Into Shadow, Amazon Original Collection)

Haven't read it either. Will edit once I do.

[myun-saidthoughts]

˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗ Astrology Observations ˗ˏˋ ⭐ ˎˊ˗

🌟 The placement of Pluto in your chart can reveal the theme of pain or transformation you might experience in this life—pain that serves as a catalyst for profound internal and mental shifts within yourself.

The depth of pain will be dependent on your own choices; if you choose to ignore red flags the harsher and more severe the wake up call would be.

Pluto in the 5th house: Struggles might emerge from overindulgence in impulsive or immature choices, such as gambling or seeking joy in fleeting pleasures (such as affairs or short term relationships). Poor choices may manifest because there's a need of deep inner child healing, which could cause deeper emotional wounds in the process. The extremes of choosing quick fun can lead into a habit of poor decision making.  Pluto in the 7th house: Challenges and transformative pain often arise through intimate romantic relationships, pushing you to confront deep-seated patterns and fears. If you keep choosing people who won't choose you or if you rely on others for a sense of self, identity or acceptance then the wake up call would be more prominent or severe. Pluto in the 11th house: Painful experiences may come through friendships or involvement in communities, leading to shifts in how you connect with and trust others. If you find yourself relying on others or seeking external validation through communities, friend groups, or social connections, the wake-up call may lead you to recognize your own worth and embrace yourself as you are, without needing acknowledgment from others. Pluto in the 12th house: Ignoring your psyche or mental struggles can lead to self-unraveling. The more you avoid or dismiss your internal mental health setbacks, the deeper and more painful the lessons will become. You may not even be aware of your emotional needs, but the longer you avoid confronting your sensitivity or past wounds—whether from childhood or relationships—the harder it will be to redefine your self-concept and belief system. You may even experience a revelation about yourself after overcoming depression or anxiety, which can help you understand yourself better. However, remember that being introspective and aware doesn't always mean you're truly feeling your feelings. You may know what to think or how to act, but it’s crucial to connect the emotions you've been holding onto with the feelings beneath them.

Pluto placed in less interactive houses may have a less intense theme, but if you also have Chiron in the same house, its influence can become much more prominent and life-changing, amplifying the potential for deep healing or painful growth.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 5th, 7th, or 8th house, you're more likely to seek out romantic connections, desire a partner, or long for one—even if you’ve experienced emotional turmoil in your childhood due to your parents or past partners.

🌟 If you have many inner planets in your 1st, 2nd, or 12th house, you’re less likely to be open to a connection. Subconsciously, you might desire or wish for someone to be “your person,” but you may never allow yourself to fully give in.

🌟 Pisces/Scorpio placements may have a strong tendency to seek deep emotional experiences during times of creativity. They often search for a specific feeling or emotional state as a catalyst to create art or writing.

🌟 Aquarius placements, especially Moon or Rising, often struggle with avoidance as one of their worst traits in any relationships they navigate—whether romantic, platonic, or even with themselves.

🌟 Scorpios are known for their extreme loyalty. Once they choose you, they are deeply committed and unlikely to leave unless a traumatic emotional blockage arises within the relationship.

🌟 Scorpio risings can have beautiful striking eyes, and because of that their eyes can heavily influence appearance. Their eyes may even become an ice breaker for conversations/be talked about a-lot.

🌟 Aries + Libra axis turnover rate when it comes to relationships is incredibly high. Moving on to the next can come naturally to them unless they have other placements that contradicts that tendency.

🌟 Air signs need intellectual stimulation; they need to feel excited and curious with you.

🌟 8th House placements (esp. Moon or Sun) or Scorpio placements are incredibly private towards the public. They naturally will not post on social media: no instagram stories, tweets, memes, their thoughts or feelings willingly and openly.

This is because

At a young age their needs, thoughts or wishes were ignored and pushed to the side for others sake and so they now have coped to never share their own inner thoughts or feelings to others.

They've been burned or hurt in the past by someone they've trusted, and now they don't share or openly state their true feelings outwardly towards others.

If they have a Taurus/Libra/Leo IC or Gemini/Sagittarius/placements then the chances of sharing themselves online is more likely.

🌟 In 8th/Pluto + 12th/Neptune house synastry connections, if you two are not on speaking terms sudden lows may occur when you're reminded of what was.

If it's been weeks or months since you've both talked and one random day they watch your story on your social media a sudden longing for them may come.

If you run into them and the conversation didn't amount to what you wished for, a low may come and you'll feel as if the relationship is completely over.

🌟 8th house synastry amounts to constant cycles and loops, if you're not wishing for them, you say you're over them.

There could be an emotional block between you two and the desire for them may diminish but If they look at you for one second the way they used too, the desire for them will arise as if the feeling never left.

🌟 In 12th house and Neptune synastry, you might covertly share song lyrics on your social media, hoping they’ll read them and sense that the lyrics are meant as a message for them. Instead of expressing your feelings face-to-face, posting these lyrics in a "hidden" way feels safer.

And if so, you yourself may wonder if anything they publicly post, say, or do is a secret message for you.

You may even go out of your way to somehow find a perfect song that depicts the relationship between you two and use that song as a gateway message to state your true feelings without having to outwardly state them.

(The above statement is more true for those who have Pisces, 12th house, Neptune influence in their cart)

🌟 3rd house synastry creates ease with communication, especially if there's 4th house synastry as well, and if the planets involved are the Sun, Moon, or Venus.

🌟 For 12th house synastry to cause intense idealizations, thoughts, dreams, wishes or obsessiveness there has to be attraction involved, the more attracted you are to them the more you'll idealize them.

🌟 A Neptune/12th house person and a planet person can both experience intense desire, longing, or overthinking, but the way they process these feelings depends on their individual natal charts.

🌟 With 8th and 12th house synastry connections, you might never actually date the person, yet the emotions they evoke within you can feel as profound and intimate as if you had.

🌟 Neptune and 12th house synastry: "You are perfect for me; you feel like everything I could ever wish for in someone."

If you're avoidant, this feeling can be terrifying because it brings a sense of inadequacy, as if you could never live up to the idealized version of yourself they see. You'll long for them deeply, but the way they look at you may feel unsettling, foreign, or out of place. Even if they seem like your dream person, self-doubt can drive you to run. You might fear disappointing them or feel you’ll never measure up to the partner they deserve. You'll view them as some sort of prize from a distance and you'll search for them in other connections but you'll never allow yourself to choose them, not like they choose you.

If you're anxious, this feeling will strike a familiar chord, it'll resonate so deeply within and letting go will seem impossible. You'll feel this pull toward them, you'll feel as if they’re your muse, your catharsis, and you'll wish that they were your person. Even without words, you'll sense that they want you, and this silent connection will consume your thoughts. You’ll compare the way they make you feel to everyone else, and you'll search for that same intensity in other people's gazes. You’ll sit in your head, wondering if your wishes align with theirs, questioning if they feel the same. Over time, you’ll realize the emotions they stir in you are unmatched, which leads you to hold onto the connection longer than you should, you'll rather wish on the what could be's than accept what is.

🌟 Pisces or 12th house placements often turn to writing or art as a means of expressing their inner thoughts, feelings, and longings. The more they feel, the more their creativity flows.

🌟 If you have water placements or planets in water houses (4th, 8th, 12th), deep emotions are embedded within you. The more you avoid these feelings, the more likely physical symptoms such as anxiety or mental struggles will occur. It's your body’s way of processing the hidden emotions you’ve learned to suppress. These unaddressed feelings can manifest in subtle, physical ways, and it's a reflection of the emotional turmoil beneath the surface.

[dufferpuffer]

Absolutely agree with everything said about Snapes intentions. He would beg Voldemort to spare only Lily - because who the fuck is he to ask ANYTHING of the Dark Lord…? But Dumbledore? There is no need to only ask for Lily - and he doesn't. He brings them ALL up.

But I want to bring some things up about how Dumbledore manipulates - and his own intentions. It's often brought up that he is a manipulator - but his actual clearest manipulations are often glossed over, or played off as him being irrational/stupid.

There is nobody he manipulates quite as viciously as he does Severus Snape in these flashbacks. it's so tasty.

Dumbledore Meta Time:

Dumbledore doesn't assume Snape only cares about Lily - only that she is the one most important to him. And he uses that as a weapon. He intentionally steers the conversation back to her and then shoves the high heel of his boot into Severus' throat, to drive the guilt in.

‘If she means so much to you,’ said Dumbledore, ‘surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?' 'I have - I have asked him -‘

He brings up something despicable - and the moment Severus stammers a few words cuts him off. Albus rarely ever cuts anyone off... unless he wants to crush them.

‘You disgust me,’

...he says, when Severus is simply bouncing off the picture HE painted, desperate and stammering.

‘You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?’

A test. He paints another scenario - and DARES Severus to bounce off this one, too. It's not a conclusion he is jumping to. It's a calculated attack.

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. ‘Hide them all, then,’ he croaked. ‘Keep her - them - safe. Please.’

He passes. Not a confirmation of the scenario, nor a defense of himself - total submission. Good boy, Severus.

The Order is losing. They need their own mole. Albus knows Severus wouldn't be here, meeting a man he was scared might kill him... unless he was incredibly brave and dedicated to something good. He can be used... ...and Dumbledore wants him desperately. Even if it means grabbing him by the throat - for the greater good.

‘And what will you give me in return, Severus?’ ‘In - in return?’ Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, ‘Anything.'

I've seen people try to claim Dumbledore is daft for expecting Severus - a man who has nothing - to be able to give anything but himself. But that was the exact goal...? Make him feel so shit and desperate that he would give himself? Albus isn't saying 'What can you give me? Turn out your pockets, you disgusting cretin.' He is saying 'What WILL you give me? Hm…? Will you be a good boy, Severus…?'

---

I also agree with everything said about how Snape perceives Dumbledore. But what about how Dumbledore perceives Snape?

We see how Albus keeps himself distant from students. He is rarely around, difficult to reach - and in the 70s was:

Running the school to the standards the Board of Governors desires so he is not removed (some of whom may be Death Eaters)

Following Ministry summons (though likely less, as a new headmaster, and without Fudge as Minister)

Leading an illegal secret society of volunteers - gathering information, spying, moles within the Ministry, Fighting… …He's a wee bit busy, basically.

Yet in the 90s he seems to know the names of kids he's likely never been within 2 meters of before. He takes an interest. It'd help that he taught most of their parents, their grandparents - went to school with their great-grandparents...

He'd know Eileen Prince, President of the Gobstones Club, who seemingly disappeared from the Wizarding World - taking her Pureblood name with her. He would know the little boy who arrived hand-in-hand with the Muggleborn whose sister wrote a very cute letter was hers. Connections are important. Keeping tabs on people... special tools that will help him later.

---

Snapes life was threatened in his fifth year - and Albus had to make sure he stayed quiet about it.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledores face. […] "Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?" "My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

(PoA, ch21)

He is going to do it again, 'side with Sirius' (to Severus' view), but he asks, quietly, for Snape to trust him. "I do remember, Severus. I keep that in mind… but please, allow me to speak to the children, for their side." He remembers, and he agrees - or at least, is sympathetic that 'attempted murder' is Severus' reasonable view of things.

Yet as a boy Severus did, indeed, keep quiet about it. He didn't tell anyone what Remus was for the next two years of school. He didn't get Remus and Albus in trouble even when the bullying continued. He didn't tell Lily, though he wanted her back.

While at school, Albus was likely wary of him - he made Lily and James head boy and girl - but knew if he wasn't at least someone who could stick to doing 'the right thing' when the going got tough... he could at least be manipulated with a heel to his throat. :^)

So when Severus comes crawling back with a message of danger… well, Albus has seen that before, and it went rather well last time.

---

Dumbledore certainly see's himself in Snape… but I'm not sure he did at that point in time.

Ariana killed Albus' mother. Accidentally, yes - but he was closer to his mother than his siblings. He had just graduated and wanted to live away from the burning wreck of his family - but because his mother was dead he had to stay behind and look after his sister while his brother finished school.

His wayward, violent, can barely read brother who doesn't seem to wanna do anything… and his useless, basically magic-less sister who is ruining his life... Just because it's the right thing to do. But he was being tempted away: a lover, an intellectual equal, a brilliant young man just like him, who dreams with him…

Ask a 17/18yr old Albus if he would be upset if Ariana died. He'd probably say he'd be relieved. Hell - Aberforth STILL thinks Albus never loved her. Even though he broke his nose at her funeral, and Albus intentionally never fixed it. Scars can be quite handy - at reminding us what we have lost.

The duel was an accident. An argument between teenagers. Gellert wasn't a danger to Ariana, he was attacking Aberforth. She died anyway. Without warning something important was gone. The girl his father died for. The girl his mother spent her life sheltering. His brothers best friend. His baby sister… All because he wasn't dedicated to living for her, dying for her.... like everyone else was.

He was prioritizing his own dreams over the safety of the weak - and that greed for power blinded him.

… That only has obvious parallels to Severus later, in grief. Lily becomes the girl Severus failed to protect, lost to his selfish desires... he should have prioritized her but instead turned away.

But at this very moment…?

Severus is fighting, throwing his own desires away to protect her when she is at her most vulnerable. Foolish, a wayward idiot… but even when he will be far away from Lily he is dedicated to her. Terrified he won't be enough - he has to boldly go and insist Albus understand the gravity of the situation, that Albus does good enough in a matter he might not personally care for.

In this moment, Severus is more like Aberforth. …And maybe the Hogs Head does indeed play a little into that perception.

---

Talking about Albus comparing Severus to himself…

“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…” “She and James put their faith in the wrong person,“ said Dumbledore. ”Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?“ Snape’s breathing was shallow. “Her boy survives,” said Dumbledore. With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly. “Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?“ “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone… dead…”

(DH, ch33)

I get chills about how vicious this is… he's back to stomping on his throat… Laying it on thick. All vegemite, no butter. Pushing all the guilt off of his own shoulders, promising to protect Lily and failing - sliding it onto Severus' plate. Why? Why push so, so hard…? Severus has already lost everything…

“Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish… I wish I were dead…“ “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.”

(DH, ch33)

…If you loved her, truly loved her, your way forward is clear. What use is remorse if you do nothing with it? If you wallow in your desire to die, to be rid of the guilt...? That's a desperate feeling Albus knows well.

"It's all my fault, all my fault," he sobbed. "Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again…" […] Dumbledore began to cower as though invisible torturers surrounded him; his flailing hand almost knocked the refilled goblet from Harry's trembling hands as he moaned, "Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead…" […] He supported Dumbledore's shoulders and again, Dumbledore drained the glass; then Harry was on his feet once more, refilling the goblet as Dumbledore began to scream in more anguish than ever, "I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!" […] Dumbledore drank, and no sooner had he finished than he yelled, "KILL ME!"

(HBP, ch26)

Albus knows exactly what Severus is going through… and he knows the path forwards. What he believes to be the only path, for guilty bastards like them, who get those they love killed:

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What – what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone – ” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, “Very well. Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear… especially Potter’s son… I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist…”

(DH, ch33)

Scum like them can only atone in throwing their lives away for others. They want to die - so in spirit, they are dead. Throwing their dreams away, their choice in what they do in the lives they life, to fight for those who still live… for the Greater Good.

Albus, seeing himself in Severus, is pushing him to follow the same path. The best path - as far as he is concerned. The best of them.

This part of Snape's memories that he gives to Harry has been talked to death, but please indulge me while I dig it back up because meta rests for no man. Emphases in the below excerpt are mine:

The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: Harry seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colours until his surroundings solidified again and he stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone … his fear infected Harry, too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder, wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for - Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air: Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand. ‘Don’t kill me!’ ‘That was not my intention.’ Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand. ‘Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?' 'No - no message - I’m here on my own account!’ Snape was wringing his hands: he looked a little mad, with his straggling, black hair flying around him. ‘I - I come with a warning - no, a request - please -‘ Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Snape faced each other. ‘What request could a Death Eater make of me?’ ‘The - the prophecy … the prediction … Trelawney …’ ‘Ah, yes,’ said Dumbledore. ‘How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?’ ‘Everything - everything I heard!’ said Snape. ‘That is why - it is for that reason - he thinks it means Lily Evans!’ ‘The prophecy did not refer to a woman,’ said Dumbledore. ‘It spoke of a boy born at the end of July -‘ ‘You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down - kill them all -‘ ‘If she means so much to you,’ said Dumbledore, ‘surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?' 'I have - I have asked him -‘ ‘You disgust me,’ said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little. ‘You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?’ Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. ‘Hide them all, then,’ he croaked. ‘Keep her - them - safe. Please.’ ‘And what will you give me in return, Severus?’ ‘In - in return?’ Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, ‘Anything.'

Firstly what stands out here is that that Snape is the first one to refer to Harry and James and not just Lily, not Dumbledore. Snape says, "he is going to hunt her down - kill them all" showing that from the outset he was aware of not just Lily's fate, but her husband's and son's as well. His warning to Dumbledore takes them into consideration too, so from the outset we see that Dumbledore's assumptions are likely biased.

It's Dumbledore who assumes Snape is only thinking about Lily and doesn't care about her family. Although Snape is clearly more invested in Lily, focusing on her as Voldemort's target when he first speaks, he doesn't exhibit the selfish tunnel vision Dumbledore accuses him of. In fact, immediately after Snape says "them all" it's Dumbledore who changes the conversation to be specifically about Lily again. It's understandable that Snape is more concerned about Lily - she's the one he grew up with and was friends with, although it's likely Dumbledore doesn't know this, and may never learn the full extent of Snape's relationship to her, not even to the extent that he shares with Harry in his final memories. Snape refers to her as Lily Evans, not Potter, likely because he's so used to Evans being her name, having spent his whole childhood knowing her by it. His relationship with James was one of victim to abuser, so it's understandable that in this moment of panic and anxiety, James Potter isn't the most important thing in Snape's mind.

It's important to how the dynamics between Snape and Dumbledore play out in this scene that Snape is terrified. He's described as "panting, turning on the spot" and his fear is so palpable that even Harry feels it, though he knows he's safe and in a memory where he can't be harmed. Snape is coming into this conversation out of desperation, and trusting a man who didn't seem to care much when Snape's life was threatened by a fellow student in his fifth year at Hogwarts. To Snape, Dumbledore is the man who let Sirius' prank slide even though it could have killed him. Years after this scene on the hilltop, when Sirius escapes from Azkaban, he still asserts with viciousness that Snape deserved to die just for being too nosy about him and his friends. So to Snape, Dumbledore is the man who let that attempt on his life slide, and who invited Sirius and James - both his attackers, as far as he's concerned - to join the original Order of the Phoenix.

To Snape, Dumbledore is someone who doesn't care if he lives or dies, and who trusts and respects people who, as far as Snape is concerned, are violent and ruthless. This is compounded by the time he's spent in Voldemort's ranks, where's he's seen firsthand what people like that - violent and ruthless - are capable of. He likely sees Dumbledore as a leader who is just as volatile as Voldemort. Since we know that Voldemort doesn't believe in light and dark, good or bad, only in power and weakness, we can assume that Snape has taken on some of these ideas. His perspective may also be informed by his experiences with the bullying of the Marauders, who claimed to hate his proclivity for "dark" magic while perverting innocent spells like scourgify to enact violence (if you've ever tried to eat soap as a kid, you can imagine how vile that might be, let alone if it's blocking the airflow in your trachea). So in Snape's eyes, Dumbledore is probably not the light to Voldemort's dark, but a rival wizard fighting for power, and therefore someone he likely assumes will resort to similar brutality.

As far as Snape is concerned, Dumbledore could strike him dead just for being there. And yet he walks into this meeting, the arrangement of which is already a mortal risk, knowing he might not leave it alive. His first words to the man are, "Don't kill me." Even if he were there just to plead for Lily's life and not care about her family, his willingness to sacrifice himself to save her is already an act of bravery and frankly, I think it's a much more complicated moral dilemma whether one can choose who to give their own life for than Dumbledore's harsh condemnation makes it seem. Can we expect a man to risk his life for a friend? That's a question with a complex and multi-faceted variety of answers. Can we expect him to risk his life for an enemy, or an abuser? That's a long and complex answer with even fewer clear conclusions.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, sees himself in Snape. We see through the HP series, especially in this reveal at the end, how intertwined his relationship with Snape became. We learn that Dumbledore spends his life carrying the guilt and pain of his sister's death and his direct or indirect role in it. It's a pretty common reading of his and Snape's relationship that Dumbledore understood the depth and irrevocability of Snape's regret and guilt firsthand. Knowing all this, it's hard to read Dumbledore's judgment of Snape on the hilltop, and his immediately conclusion that Snape is only interested in protecting Lily - despite warning that Voldemort intends to "kill them all" - as being objective. I read it as Dumbledore projecting his own guilt and anxiety onto Snape in that moment. In addition, as @said-snape-softly pointed out to me very aptly, the prophecy was overheard in the Hog's Head, which is run by Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, adding onto Dumbledore's personal baggage coming out in this moment. Dumbledore's own feelings are loaded and he makes assumptions about Snape's goals and motivations out of his own anxieties about himself.

And Snape lets him. He's been under Voldemort's thumb, a murderous sociopath who throws unforgivable curses around like most people sneeze. He's desperate and terrified and isn't going to argue with Dumbledore. Dumbledore says, "Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?" and Snape replies that he has. But as we've seen already, Snape has included Harry and James and Dumbledore - as the person with all the power and leverage in this conversation - has changed the subject to focus on Lily. Snape is in no position to argue about semantics in this moment. The same way he brought up Harry and James to Dumbledore only for them to be ignored by him, he may have brought them up to Voldemort only for him to react similarly.

Given what we know about Voldemort as a character, once he has decided to go after Harry and not Neville, there's no changing his mind. Any effort made to sway him would fail and only add the asker to the pile of bodies Voldemort leaves in his wake. James and Lily are both targets, because canonically they have defied Voldemort three times and are members of the Order fighting against his cause. Snape may be able to beg for Lily's life - and we see that Voldemort assumed it was because he "desired her" - but James' is almost impossible to argue on behalf of, even if he wanted to. Snape can't claim any intimate connection even if it's a lie, because James is in the Order and enough of an enemy to Voldemort that he was targeted on the basis of Trelawney's prophecy. The fact that Snape went to Dumbledore means that he is asking for Lily's whole family to be protected, not just her. It's not just extra insurance in case Voldemort decides to kill everyone in his path to Harry, it's an effort to save Lily and the people who matter to her as well. Snape knows that Dumbledore will give them a fighting chance where Voldemort won't.

When Dumbledore accuses Snape of not caring if they live or die, Snape says nothing. He doesn't confirm or deny this accusation, and as we've seen, he's terrified and Dumbledore has already twisted his words and judged him, so it's reasonable to assume Snape is worried that if he says the wrong thing, all will be lost. Dumbledore could have just accepted Snape's warning and told him to leave. He could have accepted the warning and asked why Snape gave it. Instead, he jumped to conclusions and threw them in Snape's face, a frightened man risking his life who learned quickly in this conversation that Dumbledore hates him and is judging him, and who learned while still at school that Dumbledore doesn't value his perspective or even his very life.

And then Dumbledore asks him, "what will you give me in return?" Snape is caught off guard, because as far as he knew, he was already doing Dumbledore a favor. He's offering him free information that will enable him to protect two of his Order members when the Death Eaters already outnumber them twenty to one, as Lupin said in OOtP. Again, Snape is risking his life - if Voldemort finds out he had this conversation with Dumbledore, he's definitely dead. As far as he knows, Dumbledore could kill him, as his opening sentence in this scene shows. And yet, Dumbledore turns this around - like the tactical, manipulative military leader he is - and posits the situation as being one in which he's doing Snape a favor by heeding his warning. As if he were choosing to protect Lily and her family for Snape's sake, not his own, and not theirs. Many years later, Dumbledore will ask Snape how many people he's watched die, and Snape answers, "lately only those I could not save." But in this moment on the hilltop, that's already what Snape is doing.

[dykedvonte]

love seeing your takes on mouthwashing and how sane they are. everything's so black or white. I like how you acknowledge curlys abuse under jimmy (which I honestly didn't quite notice when I first watched a playthrough. should rewatch w this in mind) and how that very much doesn't "forgive" his inaction towards Anya and Her abuse under jimmy. I think what happens to him despite all his issues (bc he clearly wasn't OK 😊✌🏼) is very much karmic. I really did hurt huh

I hate the take that what happened to him is karmic as becoming disabled and being tortured is like not in any way an equal consequence for not taking more action against Jimmy. It is a consequence as is the whole game for everyone but it’s one that is very much established as being undeserved and extreme as everyone else’s but Jimmy’s fate.

Thank you for liking my takes but I also try to point out that this exact sort of framing of the events and what happened to Curly is bad especially if you are gonna factor in his own abuse into the equation of his inaction/ineffective acts. It’s like “saying yeah he deserved the abuse he was already going through to escalate because he didn’t do enough” which is like not a message the game tries to deliver at all. It’s like the game shows that abusers escalate

Karma and punishment are not concepts that I think should be directly tied to Curly’s fate especially since during the game and even in discussion he takes on too many consequences of someone else’s actions. Like this framing is the direct thing I describe taking the discussion away from Jimmy, P.E and the factors that created the environment in the first place.

[heechwe]

one more night | 𝐦𝐣𝐡

୨୧ pairing: myung jaehyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 2.1k ୨୧ genre: smut ୨୧ tags: forbidden romance, friends(?) with benefits, ceo!jaehyun, ceo!reader, spanking, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie. ୨୧ synopsis: You tell yourself it will be the last time you commisserate with the enemy every time you leave him. But, like magnets, you always come back to each other in spite of every instinct telling you to walk away. ➸ Request from spider anon via this ask! I hope you love it like I do! Shoutout also to my friends @lovetaroandtaemin and @loserlvrss for beta-reading and dealing with my ass writing this story ilysm 🤍

Any excuse to run across Jaehyun reminds you why you’re such a good liar. Both in life and in business, it’s a good skill to have in order to hold a lot of things together. Jaehyun isn't one to conceal much of anything, though. Maybe that’s why you both can’t stand each other sixty percent of the time, your rigidness the perfect clash with his care-free nature. The guy holds a title you worked for forever while he seemed to earn it with the flick of his wrist.��

Your families didn’t share fuzzy feelings either. Your parents and his on paper seemed to be a match made in heaven, your hotel monopoly the counterpart to a chain of popular restaurants in the city. But it was anything but, unfortunately. The lack of similar business interests and practices as well as their disproportionate dispositions made it a pain to get together every time there was a dinner party or business convention with both of your companies on the ticket.

Like tonight, the expo for the new release of stocks for many companies is another standoff between your respective parties. You have to hold yourself back from sharing any words of encouragement or conversation that paints Jaehyun and his company in a good light without being rude. In truth, you could care less about the hotels right now, flitting your gaze to the ballroom doors to see the one person who drives you insane.

You refuse to admit the red dress you’re wearing is meant to show off your neckline just for him. You did not put on an extra spritz of perfume that he likes to make his head spin. You don’t wish the executives you’re talking with right now would walk away so you could find the man himself.

Of course he saunters in the room when he lingers on your mind, walking past the many gray suits without much care for his late entrance. His three-piece suit exaggerates the lines of his body in a way that irritates you and turns you on in the same breath. He shakes the hands of the stakeholders with a shit-eating grin and glides near you with a hand on the small of your back, determined to shake your resolve without saying a word.

It’s his nature to get under your skin with something as simple as the light graze of his fingertips. He loves to see you flustered until you’re begging and pleading, the actions completely against your normal character. You’ll never bow down to any man or woman in the world to get what you want, but for Jaehyun, he seems to be the only exception to the rule.

Of course, you’ll never admit that, playing it off as simple carnal desire and nothing more. You deny the heat pressing into your body the longer his hand lingers on the back of your dress, his thumb and forefinger playing with the zipper.

He says your name as he toys with your emotions further, the rest of the company around you going back to their casual conversations about trips abroad and business deals. “We need to discuss the merger. We can excuse ourselves for fifteen minutes, don’t you think?”

Sanctimonious prick.

He can barely hold himself together by the time you make it off the elevator together and walk in the direction of the room. He strings you up against the hallway wall, his hand immediately hiking up your skirt and his lips clinging to your neck.

“You love this. You love messing with my head,” he grunts, taking your underwear in his fingers and dragging them down your legs. He could give a shit less if anyone were to leave their room to find the scene playing out in front of them. In his mind, three days has been torture. Any more and he would’ve exploded.

He has to make it known how much pain he has been in, and he has every intention of returning his torment with the same vigor.

“Hyunie,” you whisper, the words about to leave your mouth as hollow as his preservation for your dignity. “Not here.”

“You don’t care,” he responds. The pad of his thumb easily finds your clit under your dress, rubbing circles into the center of your legs without stumbling on his words. “Everyone downstairs could see me fucking you and all that would matter to you is if you got off. And you know it.”

You moan into his mouth when he licks the roof of yours with his tongue. His fingers still dance in the pool at your center, your underwear clenched in his other hand pressed against the wall.

“Please fuck me, Jaehyun,” you beg, tugging on his pants as he continues with his thumb and forefinger bordering the walls of your cunt. The strain of his cock in the fabric is obvious, the outline of it making your mouth water.

He smirks, holding his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not before I feel that beautiful mouth on me, baby.”

By the time Jaehyun slides the keycard against the door mechanism and lets you both inside, you have him pressed to the other side of the door in record time. It takes only another second for the underside of your tongue to meet the tip of his cock. He barely had time to pull his pants down before you were taking him in your mouth, but he loves to see you like this, lust-drunk and impatient.

Just because you’re a good liar doesn’t mean you’re good at practicing delayed gratification.

Sure, you may not like him a good portion of the time. But now, with his hand violently wrapped in your hair, ruining the curls you spent an hour working on so he can fuck your face, you think you may die if you don’t feel him inside of you soon.

You gag around him when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Tears pool in your eyes, but the sound of his moans and the way he slides between your lips is indescribable.

“Fuck, this mouth was made for me, you know that?” He groans, lovingly holding your cheek with the palm that isn’t wrapped in your hair. “My perfect little whore.”

You hum and continue letting him abuse your throat. His body trembles at the endorphins rushing through it, and he hasn’t even come yet.

Jaehyun pulls his cock out of your mouth abruptly, making you whine in confusion. He pulls you up by the hands, a knowing smile plastered across his face. Your knees burn from the friction against the carpet, but the force of his kiss makes you forget any feeling that isn’t pleasurable. The rest doesn’t seem to matter much at the moment; only him and his effects on your being take precedence in your mind.

“Y’know I love coming in your mouth, but I want your pussy more.” He takes you to the bed and motions for you to get on all fours once your dress and high heels are discarded in a corner of the room.

He lands a hard smack against your ass, rubbing the skin as you whimper into the pillows underneath you. “You’re such a bad girl. Acting like you don’t want me, yet you’re hungry to have my cock filling you up every time you see me.” He takes his other hand to press his fingers inside of you. “My little brat, too proud to admit she loves being my little fucktoy, huh?”

You shake your head and stuff your face further into the pillow. You arch your back only for Jaehyun to spank you a second, third, and fourth time. He doesn’t take his fingers out of your heat even as he hits you, but each bout of contact with your ass and his palm is harder than the last.

“Don’t lie to me, baby. You know I hate it when you do that.” A fifth smack meets your ass, and you almost press your whole body flat onto the bed, the pain and pleasure too much to absorb at once.

“I love it, Jaehyun, I do. I love being yours,” you gasp, legs shaking. Your body stretches the coil inside of you tighter, unsure when will be the exact moment you fall apart.

Jaehyun doesn’t make you wonder for too long. “Prove it. Come on my fingers, baby. Let go.”

He presses a kiss to your reddened skin as you come undone, the orgasm ripping through your energy without mercy. Your legs are limp and unable to hold you up any longer when you come back to reality.

That doesn’t mean the devilish man who’s caused you so much satisfaction is done.

“On your back, baby. It’ll make it easier.”

He hooks one leg across his waist, holding it tenderly as he slips inside of you. He groans at the feeling of finally entering you, your walls still drenched from your previous arousal. He doesn’t push you further than necessary though, his pace languid but purposeful.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he moans, his sounds reverberating through the room. Your body is completely at his will, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving you spent to an unfathomable degree. All that’s left for you to give are weak whimpers of ecstasy. “So fucked out because of me,” he continues, suddenly picking up the pace.

“Are you gonna make me come again, Hyunie?” You ask, eyes half-lidded. Your body is on a slow crawl to a second release. But if Jaehyun has anything to say about it, he’ll make you orgasm before he does, like usual.

He may be full of himself, but he’s a giver.

He runs his thumb into your slick again, drawing swirls into your clit. You cry out at the feeling, him penetrating the deepest parts of you while touching the motherboard to your nerves so effortlessly. Why did he know how to get under your skin and also burn it alive?

With all of your strength, you lift your hips up to meet Jaehyun’s. He grunts as your skin meets his, his thrusts more powerful with your added effort.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” Jaehyun warns, slamming harder into you as his release comes closer to fruition.

“Me too, Hyunie,” you respond to him, the words becoming lilts of air as he pounds into you mercilessly. This orgasm is different from the first one, your body in silent surrender as the pleasure overtakes you. The only physical response you have is your slackened jaw.

“Fucking shit,” Jaehyun curses, your cunt tightening around him beautifully from your release. It pushes him into his own, his seed filling you with mind-blowing warmth.

Some of it spills out of you when you separate, but he plunges it back in with his fingers slowly. He kisses your stomach as you buck up from the sensitivity. “Easy, baby. Don’t want any of it going to waste, do we?”

Like clockwork, your satiated thoughts from pleasure become ones of humor at his ridiculous ways of claiming you for his own.

Your legs are intertwined with Jaehyun’s on the bed, the fuzzy robe you stole from the bathroom covering your body. Jaehyun is sitting up against the headboard, wearing nothing but his briefs. He says nothing but stares intently as he strokes your thigh, your focus on stuffing your face with ice-cream.

Jaehyun went downstairs shortly after he crawled off of you, even apologizing personally for you and giving an excuse of not feeling well enough to stay at the conference. Normally, you would be fine going back downstairs without a second thought. Tonight, however, seems to be different in a way you can’t pin down. Something inside of your heart has shifted, more than you thought possible.

It doesn’t help that he came back upstairs with your favorite desserts. He walked in with a bashful grin, candy and ice-cream littered across the metal tray. “Extra cherries for your sundae, right?”

Now, looking at him, the weight of all the lies you told yourself before seems unnecessary to carry any longer. Would it be so bad to admit he was annoying but also endearing?

You turn from your vanilla ice cream to look at him for the first time in forever. His mouth opens for a spoonful of your dessert, his eyes lit with glee at the prospect of you sharing with him. And you do, your heart too swollen with affection to say no.

This may be uncharted territory, but maybe it’ll be easier if you’re honest. And the truth is simple: the bane of your existence may very well be your perfect match.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[blackynsupremacy]

ARE WE STILL

FRIENDS?

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

summary: as a junior at smallville high, you’re known as many things: captain of the girl’s basketball team, straight a-student, a bit of a tomboy, and the younger sister of pete ross by three minutes. as twins, you share many things, including your childhood best friend, clark kent. prom is nearing soon and you’re both dateless, so you and clark agree to arrive together as friends. after the view of a yellow dress, a slow dance, and a moment in the photo booth, you start to doubt if you’ll both leave the same way you came.

a/n: you can imagine jeremy as whoever you want.

contains: lots of words. fluff, brother’s best friend trope, reader is pete’s twin sister, reader knows, angst, mild swearing, arguing, friends to lovers, kissing/making out, hurt/comfort, love confession, clana is broken up, jealousy, betrayal.

a/n: finally another clark fic! anybody got ideas for tsay chapter 5? i want it to be action packed fr.

taglist: @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @paisholotus @sabrinasopposite @stereotypicalbarbie @ellethespaceunicorn @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @supaprettyg

“come on, kent! is that all you got?”

you were taunting him as he tried to guard you from making winning shot of your one v. one basketball game on kent farm. clark kent may have been six-foot-four with a strapping athletic build, but he wasn’t the captain of smallville high’s lady crows basketball team. due to your skill, leadership, and strategy, your girls have had an undefeated season so far. you continue to dribble and swiftly turn around to catch clark off guard before you jump to shoot the basketball which dove perfectly within the net. clark exasperatedly chuckles while you break down into an enthusiastic shimmy of a victory dance. your twin brother, pete ross, shook his head with a smirk after observing clark’s defeat. you both knew that for an exceptional farm boy that hailed from another planet couldn’t even school you on the court, had to mean something was off. in these playful competitions, you’ve had your fair share of wins with clark, but also definitely some losses. with a slow clap of his hands, pete approached clark to pat him on the back in playful sympathy,

“damn. it looks like you’ve lost your mojo, clark.” he quipped.

you and clark playfully roll your eyes. you sauntered to your brother and flick him in the forehead before you sassily chimed in,

“boy, shut up! you do realize that even clark can lose to me, right?”

“hey—ow! i’m just saying. clark, could’ve super sped around you and easily taken that shot.” he yelped in pain. clark chuckled before contributing to the conversation,

“first of all, pete, that would be cheating. second, my focus has been everywhere with prom coming up this weekend. you’re still going with me, aren’t you, pete?”

clark stretched his arms and you didn’t miss the slight flex of the bulging biceps he possessed. you always thought he was attractive, smart, and overall the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, but there was already so many complications entailed in that. first, there was the principle that he was your friend and your brother’s best friend. you basically grew up together, so you always thought lines like that should never be crossed no matter how much your heart desired for him at times. second, there was lana lang, clark’s first love. lana and clark’s relationship was complicated as well. one minute they’re together in perfect loving bliss, then the next, it’s back to being friends. this time, they were back to friend zone for a long while. lana was a friend of yours along with chloe. it was odd being tight with girls you knew had feelings for the same guy as you, but somehow, you try not to let that cause a rift between you. plus, you’re starting to develop a new crush on this guy named, jeremy ford. he was a senior and the captain of the boy’s basketball team. you’ve had opportunities where you would practice with him one on one after school and hang out at the talon occasionally to share strategies to help out your teams. he was handsome, athletic, funny, popular, and a scholar, so you’ve figured that he would be perfect as your date to the prom. when you get the chance this week, you were finally going to ask him. lastly, there was the fact that you knew clark’s secret along with your brother.

you’ve never forgotten that shift in your friendship with clark after finding that ship in his shed. it all made sense on how he was able to get to places so fast and subdue the people who were powered by those damned green rocks. pete already had to deal with clark having the attention of chloe and him being friends with their long-time family enemy, lex luthor. it was such a shock to you, but unlike those others who had powers and abused them, you knew that clark only wanted to use his abilities for good. to clark’s relief, you were quicker to forgive and swear to secrecy than your brother who eventually came around.

“thanks, y/n. i knew i could count on you to understand.” clark said when you visited him in loft the night after finding out. “at least you can consider yourself the first girl to know—besides my mom, of course!” he’d joke and for some reason that made you feel special.

now, your bond was stronger as you had to show that he was still the boy you called a good friend whose ass you’d occasionally kick in some hoops, but another part of you knew that things could be riskier than before with all of the bizarre occurrences of smallville.

“about that—” pete hesitantly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “teresa campbell asked me last week, man. i know that ever since you and lana split, we’d make it a stag night, but we can all still go as a group. as far as i know, it could be me, you, teresa, and y/n.” he explained cringing a bit at the look of slight disappointment on clark’s face. you were a bit peeved that pete had sideswiped clark like that and that he assumed you were dateless. well, you were, but just because you were twins didn’t mean he fully knew you and your plans.

“it’s no worries, man. we can all still have a great time. right, y/n?” clark inquired, shifting his blue eyes on figure and he bounced the basketball in your direction.

“yeah, but, whose to say i didn’t already have a date, pete? we may be twins, but i don’t have to tell you everything.” you rebutted with a sharp glare towards your brother, catching the ball and placing it on your hip. pete threw his hands up in surrender,

“now, hold up, n/n. the last time i checked you never mentioned him, okay? look, i’m sorry for assuming. who’d you have in mind?”

your bashfully shift your eyes between the two awaiting males before you answer,

“uh,— jeremy ford.”

you were a bit shocked as there was a pause of silence. like there was something you didn’t know. you sighed ready for whatever was about to come,

“what is it now?”

clark held onto your shoulders and turned you to face him to deliver the news in the most gentle, but direct manner possible.

“y/n, lana is going to prom with jeremy.”

you stood there in silence, trying to register the words that were spoken to you. maybe this was sick prank the guys were playing on you to hurt your already bruised ego.

“what? psh, no way. lana would’ve told me.” you deny, dismissing what you thought was a ludacris claim.

pete shook his head and crossed his arms before serving the explanation of the knowledge. given the fact they lived together, lana had told chloe that jeremy had been hanging around late at the talon after you’d leave. eventually, he and lana got to know each other and before they knew it, lana agreed to jeremy’s proposal of prom. then chloe passed the news on to clark and pete. as an aspiring journalist, chloe was going to get it straight from a reliable source, so it all had to be true.

chloe and lana knew for a fact that you had a crush on him and they’d tease you to just go for it, but you’d always dismiss them with the excuse of focusing on your studies to achieve a full-ride athletic scholarship. plus, you’ve never really had that much dating experience to begin with, so it was all a bit of a mess. pete and clark could see the dark cloud of hurt loom over your face. there was a stabbing, tingling pain within your gut. you thought that you and jeremy would be the perfect match. you both shared the same goals and interests, how could you have missed the signs of lost chances? what else were you expecting? lana had already dated clark, but no human nor alien had control over their feelings. it would’ve hurt a little less if lana gave you a head’s up. possibly she was afraid of how you would’ve react or affected your friendship. you never wanted to be the type of girl to end friendships over a crush anyway.

“n/n, say something. are you oka—” clark began to question, but you sharply cut him off.

“i’m fine, clark. lana and jeremy can do what they want, it’s not like he was my boyfriend or anything. what about you? lana is your ex.” clark watched in silence as you tried to play it off so cool, but it didn’t take his x-ray vision to see that you were crushed on the inside. he believed you didn’t deserve this at all. you’ve always been a great friend to him and lana. sometimes, you’d give him advice or a listening ear whenever there was a conflict weighing on him. you were the type of person that gave their all. you gave your all in your sport, teammates, academics, family, and friends. who was giving something back to you?

without another word, you looked at your watch and turned to your brother,

“it’s about time we head home, pete. mom will be calling if we don’t make it in time for dinner.— see you at school, clark?” you bid him a goodbye with a tight lipped smile and a side hug before placing the basketball back in his arms. you cross your arms and make your way into the passenger seat of pete’s car. the boys give each other a silent knowing glance and a casual dap of farewell before pete follows suit to drive you both back home. during dinner, your parents, abigail and bill ross, noticed that you weren’t your usual talkative self due to your obvious lack of appetite and dry responses to their questions about your day. when your mother mentioned the prom, you promptly asked to be excused to your bedroom, so that you could “study”. you wrapped up your plate, placed it in the fridge, and took your leave. once in your room, you didn’t waste time in plopping yourself into your bed. you bury your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs of agony. romance looked so good in the movies you’ve watched, but why did it have to hurt so bad in reality?

you lay on your side, facing the large, purple stuffed bear that sat on your other pillow. you sat up and smiled at it fondly. you picked it up and gave it a tight squeeze. clark had won it for you at the smallville harvest festival during your freshman year. it was one of those carnival games where you had to get three basketball shots in a row. you were just a rookie on the team and you were struggling because you wanted that bear so badly. clark happened to be there to watch the whole thing and like a superboy, he swooped in and made those three shots. there was a jovial glint within his baby blue eyes as he observed you spinning with the bear in your arms like a little child. you were so happy that you thought you could kiss him that day. clark simply saw you in a jam and was kind enough to help. that was when you started developing feelings. even though he was your brother’s best friend, you’d grown to see him as a prince charming of sorts. he had his flaws, but he always found a way to make it up somehow. your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. it was his voice.

“there’s that smile i like to see.” you quickly wiped away your tears and whipped your head in his direction. there was clark kent, casually leaning against your door frame

“clark! uh, hey. what are you doing here? look, if you need to see pete, i think he’s in the den playing that game—” you try to explain, but he interrupted as he took his body away from the door and approached closer to your bed.

“actually, i came by to see you, y/n. may i?” you nod, acknowledging his request to sit on your bed. you nod, scooting over to make room and he proceeds to sit at your side. you gaze at his side profile. his perfectly fine nose, sculpted jawline, and who could miss the subtle pout in his naturally pink lips. now, his eyes met yours. the melanated skin of your cheeks begin to heat up the longer he held eye contact. there was an air of silence in the room. you were both deciding who should be the first to speak amidst this high school prom drama. clark then glanced at the stuffed bear in your arms, he tried not to blush as he was surprised that you kept it all of these years. he noticed how you held onto it with such a tight grip as if someone were to take it away at any moment. how wholesome he found that to be. a lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke,

“you still kept that bear after all these years?”

you sniffled with a bashful chuckle,

“yeah, it seems so embarrassing. i’m pushing eighteen, but it’s my favorite thing—well, besides my backstreet boys t-shirt.” you both fill the room with soft laughter, enjoying each other’s presence.

“no, no. not embarrassing. it’s humiliating, actually—hey, ahaha!” clark jokes in which that earns him a couple whacks in the head from your pillow. your stomach cramps as you dissolve into laughter again,

“god, you’re such an ass! you just love to ruin the moment.” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. you place the pillow to its original spot. clark flashes his pearly canines and leans back onto your bed.

“as long as i get to see you cry tears of joy instead of sadness, i’d gladly do it again.” he responds, gingerly reaching a hand towards your face to swipe a loose tear with his thumb. your cheeks heat up again as your stomach flips from his touch.

“i know today wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it’s good to hear you laugh, y/n.”

your own lopsided grin graces your features before you shift your gaze to the bear,

“i appreciate it, clark. you’re always swooping in to save the day, whether it’d be meteor freaks or teenage heartbreak.”

there was another beat of silence. before practically speeding to the ross house, clark couldn’t erase the image of your somber expression from his mind. this was everyone’s first prom and even though clark didn’t get the chance to go with lana, he didn’t want to experience it on a sour note. now that you were down in the dumps, he definitely didn’t want you to have that same feeling. he didn’t want you to look back on such a significant event with disdain, so he came over and took his chance.

“y/n, would you go to prom with me—as my date?”

upon hearing his question, you froze for a second before peering at the farm boy beside you. you were in a tough spot, sure, but you didn’t want to be his pity date, no matter how much you liked him.

“what?! clark—i know i seemed pretty tight about the jeremy thing, but i don’t want your pity. we can just go as a group of friends with pete and teresa. just like he planned.” you protested, but clark took ahold of your hands as the expression of sincerity etched on his face.

“y/n, please, just hear me out,” he urged, caressing his thumbs along your hands. “i promise you, it’s not pity. i genuinely want to spend time with you and i want us to enjoy our first prom.” you fell silent as your gaze softened while listening to his plea, “we could make it one of the best nights of our lives, even if it’s just for a little while—besides, who better to go to prom with than the best victory dancer i know?”

yet again, he flashed his contagious smile that you’ve silently adored for years as a twinkle danced within his eyes. you pondered on this impromptu proposal. clark had a point, this was going to be your first prom, an awaited moment in most teenaged girls lives that they would look back on in the future. you wanted to have a good time regardless of the jeremy situation. plus, if you accept, you’d have a date with your longtime crush! your brother’s best friend of all people. you were going as friends of course, but you couldn’t imagine this moment with anyone else. what could possibly go wrong? a smile you couldn’t contain plays on your full lips as your brown eyes matched his gaze before you finally said,

“you know what? i’d love to clark!”

“you would? really?”

“yes. we’ll come in together as friends, let loose, and bust a move or two.” you answer already envisioning the pleasant evening ahead. “why? do you want me to take back my answer?” you jokingly quiz with an arched brow.

“oh, n-no, no! i’m actually really glad you said yes.” he protested with relief washing over his features.

“then it’s a date, kent!” you take one of your hands to rest it on his shoulder before placing a brief kiss upon his cheek before you whisper, “you got super speed, so don’t i expect you to be late.”

clark’s cheeks flushed with the red shade of excitement from your touch. he surely didn’t expect that from you, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“well, in that case, i’ll pick you up at seven, ross.”

clark bids you goodnight and you could hardly sleep with the knowledge of this upcoming weekend. the very next morning at the breakfast table, your parents are ecstatic to learn the news of your plans for prom, especially your mother. you both enthusiastically converse, conjuring up ideas of a dress, shoes, accessories, makeup, and hair. she helps to make the necessary appointments for the days leading up to it. while at school, you decided to stick around to clark, pete, or fly solo rather than you usually did with chloe and lana. you would be cordial when you see them in the hallway, but before they could talk about prom, you’d find a way to promptly excuse yourself. the last thing you wanted to hear was anything about lana and jeremy. you didn’t want to hear the conversation as if they didn’t know that you know.

“i gotta go. i have a meeting with my coach.”

“can’t. i don’t wanna be late for class!”

even when jeremy tried to catch you in the hallway. you’d gave him the same energy,

“i can’t go to the talon today, jere. i have an appointment after school.”

“i think i’ll just practice solo today.”

with each passing day after school, your mother had taken you shopping to find the dress that was perfectly made for you along with getting a well deserved mani-pedi and an eyebrow wax. she would just help with hair and makeup on the day of. your mother doted on you every step of the way. you couldn’t forget how you had to ask the dress shop employee for kleenex because she was going to burst into tears when saw you in the dress you’ve chosen. you were shocked because this was abigail ross, the no nonsense county judge of smallville that fights for justice with an iron fist. you weren’t really big on dresses in general, but for this occasion with clark, you wanted him to see that you were more than pete’s twin.

the early evening of prom makes its presence known. throughout the entire day, your stomach rumbles with an immense amount of anxiety and piquancy. you burst out into a song while taking your shower, a soft muffled hum fills the bathroom when you brush your teeth. as your mother helps you to get ready, she affirms your beauty with each dab and blend of the cosmetics applied to your face. her gifted hands gingerly work through the coiled tresses of your dark hair in the desired style that you’ve seen one of your favorite singers sport in a magazine. as if it were like a cinderella-esque transformation, your final look was completed once you’ve donned your dress, jewelry, and heels. it was finally time for one of the best nights of your life.

clark stands at the front door of the ross house. he’s not sure how many times he’s been fidgeting with his black bow tie or glancing down at the freshly arranged corsage within the plastic container, but he knows one thing for a fact.

he was nervous.

he’s been looking forward to this all week. it was a casual plan set up by two friends, but why did he feel like he was going to mess everything up? were things going to change between you and him like how it did with him and lana? or him and chloe? he was psyching himself out, but he needed to swallow whatever doubt he had and just enjoy this like a somewhat normal teenager would, especially with someone he enjoyed spending time with. with a steady hand, his knuckles raise to knock on the front door to which pete answers within seconds. they perform their casual greeting with a hello and a dap.

“hey, clark! you’re right on time. i see you styling with the corsage.” pete joked to which clark chuckled as he invited clark to step in the living room.

“i’d sure hate to disappoint your sister, so thanks! it’s still cool with you that she’s my date, right?” clark questioned, a trace of timidity within his voice. when he first told pete about being your date, he’d surely thought his friend would tell him off by crossing that boundary. to clark’s surprise, pete took the news well.

“yeah, man! she’s been looking forward to this all week. besides, you’re going as friends, so it’s not anything that i’m worried about. my mom’s up there with her now, so she should be down in a few.” pete replied, standing coolly with his hands tucked in his pockets.

they compliment each other on their respective ensembles before clark’s eyes peruses the room. his sensitive ears pick up on the sound of the bustling, grating voices of the other ross brothers who had came to visit to see the twins off for their first prom. mark, mike, and sam along with your father all hurry to the living room to greet clark with more daps and hugs as if clark were their own. it seemed that every ross had made an appearance, all except for you. abigail hurriedly came down the staircase. she frantically waved her hands to signal for the men to keep their voices down as you were about to make your grand entrance. she turns to clark with an elated expression,

“clark, i’m so glad you’ve made it. she’s all done and ready.” your mother pauses, turning her head up to the staircase to call out your name.

“honey, clark’s here! let’s see you, so you don’t be late!”

after a sixty second beat of silence, the sound of your heels reverberated through the air as you descended from the staircase. every head turned in your direction. clark’s soft blue gaze didn’t dare to pull away as you reached the bottom of the steps. you were front and center. you were the belle of the ball. he stared in awe with his mouth slightly agape as you wore a lemon, satin maxi dress that accentuated the warm toned glow of your brown skin. it had a heavy hearted cut in the front while it exposed the skin of your back like a halter top. the garment complimented your figure perfectly and matched with the golden hoop earrings your mother let you borrow. the soft makeup that was applied to your features made each of them stand out. the sleek mascara, shimmering eyeshadow and the luminous pink gloss painted on your pouty lips made you look like you’ve walked out of a magazine. even though you received the warm gazes and compliments of your parents and brothers, you were still awaiting for what clark had to say. he only stood there staring at you as if he were trying to silently analyze a piece in an art museum. he looked so dashing in the sleek, noir tux that he wore. his physique had grown to be bulkier over the years, so you certainly didn’t miss the toned outline of his body. you gave him your full attention as he softly called out your name. you spectated as he deliberately approached you. his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat and he gulped, so that he didn’t fumble over what he had to say because he meant the next words that escaped from his mouth,

“you’re so beautiful.” he proclaims, to which your family coos. he easily opens the plastic container that withheld the corsage and holds his palm out for you place your wrist in. there was a certain spark that you weren’t sure that both of you felt when his fingers brushed against your skin as he slid the floral accessory on your wrist. his soft grip on your wrist lingered as you know that he can hear your heart racing within your chest, but he’d never call you out because he didn’t want to embarrass you. with the widest smile you reply with a tone of gratitude,

“thank you, clark! you look handsome as always.” his expression matches yours and he thanks you for the compliment before your mother urges you both to pose for some pictures. after some photographs and a wise talk of safety, you all bid your family goodbye. pete had to leave to go pick up teresa in his car, so it was only fair that you’d ride with clark. with your hand wrapped around clark’s bicep, he leads you to the faithful, red pickup truck that you’ve ridden in on several occasions, but now you look at it as your awaiting chariot while clark opens the passenger side for you to sit and safely buckle in.

after a brisk ride of small talk, wise cracking, and car karaoke, he pulls into the student parking lot where students who were dressed to impress were flooding towards the entrance to get into the gym. you sat there hesitantly, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sound, clark turns his eyes to the glowing profile of your fretting countenance. he can already tell that you’re internally freaking out. you haven’t really talked to lana nor jeremy all week and now what were you going to do if you ran into them? you couldn’t make too many excuses to avoid them in this situation. with a gentle hand, clark reaches over to intertwine your fingers together.

“hey—look at me.” his tenor voice softly urges. you reluctantly look at the signature benevolent, blue gaze of your best friend. you hate how weak it makes you when clark holds such intense eye contact, he means business.

“you’re going to have a great time, y/n. whatever worry is going on in your head right now, forget about it just for tonight. would you do that for me?”

“that’s not fair, clark. you know i’d do anything for you.” you both dissolve into a fit of laughter. when it dies down, you squeeze onto his hand and unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him again, “what are you waiting for, kent? you said i was gonna have a great time, so show me a great time.”

with a grin of anticipation on his lips, he briefly releases your hand to exit the drivers’ seat and open the passenger in which your hand is instantly reunited with his. you both stroll together through the entrance, down the hallway, and into the wide, dark gym that was illuminated by colorful lights, the pumped up bass of the music playing through the stereo, and the multitude of conversations between your classmates. your brown eyes darted around the area. you see there was some tables, a couple of them were filled with concessions. there was even a line forming for what seemed to be a photo booth, in which you keep a mental note for it because you want a stab at it before you go.

most of their talking is ceased when they saw you two walking arm in arm, their eyes observed you two in awe the further you both stepped in. at first, you were starting to feel awkward under the several pairs of eyes on you. were these looks also varying in curiosity? admiration? envy? they expected clark to clean up well, but as for you, they were stunned to see the tomboyish basketball captain pop out as if she was tyra banks. although he didn’t want to seem too arrogant, clark experienced a mix of satisfaction and jealousy from the attention you were getting, especially from some of the guys. especially from jeremy, who was at first enthusiastically conversing with lana until he saw what all the commotion was about: you. piqued, jeremy peered at you from across the room as you were caught off guard when clark instinctively, yet smoothly snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

“it’s okay. they’re just experiencing true beauty for the first time, it’s a very common reaction.” he wittily said with a cheeky smile. with a heated face, you looked at your friend, still convincing yourself of his status in your life, that just blatantly called you beautiful again. was this real life? he even clung to you as if one of these dudes would sweep you away. you were sure, he would instantly approach lana at the mere sight of her.

within a minute or two, pete and his date, teresa, meet you guys at the side of the dance floor. you instantly hit it off with your brother’s date as you two enthusiastically compliment each other on your dresses and engage in small girl talk. clark felt lucky that he had the prettiest girl on his arm tonight. he wasn’t sure why, but that was all he could he see you as right now. not the athlete, nor his best friend’s sister. he just saw you, y/n ross, in her element. the more he carried on in casual conversation with you, the more drawn in he seemed to be by your presence. it warmed his heart to be called your friend or — so he thought. it was all coming together when the upbeat tempo of the music shifted to something that presented an opportunity for you and clark to know each other better like you haven’t before.

the iconic opening notes of the piano from des’ree’s “kissing you” began to fill the room as couples swiftly gather together to the dance floor. when you listen to the songstress’ soprano voice, the butterflies in your stomach are frolicking when you see clark’s open palm before you. you loved this song. it was from the soundtrack of romeo + juliet, film about a forbidden love, a line crossed. why were you having these thoughts? you were just friends, it would just be a dance. nothing less, nothing more.

“may i have this dance? out of the many abilities i have, two left feet isn’t one of them, so i got you.” he lightly smiles, awaiting for your answer. he attentively watches as you rub your glossed lips together, a habit of your nervousness. you turn to him. in this moment, there was no thought of lana, nor jeremy. there was no thought of heartbreak, and certainly no inhibitions. without hesitation, you grasp his hand before meeting his gaze.

“you may, just don’t step on my toes. this pedicure wasn’t cheap!” you whisper with soft laughter following from you both before he leads you to the dance floor. when you find your place, his eyes don’t leave yours when he takes your hands to rest on his broad shoulders while his rest on your waist. his thumbs barely graze against the exposed skin of your back as his feet lead you both to sway so easily to the orchestral sound of the ballad. the world outside fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence. you find solace as you feel the soft press of his hands on your waist, the comforting weight of his fingers resting just above the curve of your hips. your fingers wrap a little tighter around his neck to the point where your fingertips graze against the nape where part of his dark curls flawlessly cascade. you’re not tripping, there’s an undeniable electricity between you when your bodies absentmindedly draw closer while you continue to engage in this “platonic” dance.

“you sure you can keep up?” clark teases, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the silence as you sway together. the light catches his pearly smile, his pristine canines illuminating from the way he looks at you—as if you were more than what you’ve always seemed to be in his life. you giggle, feeling the deliberate rhythm pull you even closer.

“boy, please. if i can break your ankles on the court, i can have you twirling like a ballerina on this dance floor, trust.” you saucily yet softly quip, your heartbeat growing as the vocal riffs of des’ree grow more passionate. with each step on the floor, clark guides you effortlessly, his movements confident yet unhurried, as if savoring every moment like it’s the last dance of the night. more like the last night of your lives.

“alright, n/n, just don’t get too dizzy on me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were sure he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. you’re so sprung in the sway of his words and the gentle pulse of the music, the outside world completely forgotten. he even takes the opportunity to release one of your hands from his shoulder to smoothly spin you around at the bridge. when you come back, your body is flush against his. you’re basically heart to heart at this point. you don’t even notice the speculating eyes that burned into you. you don’t even notice the look of realization that dawned upon clark, lana, and pete: you were obviously in love with clark kent and it wasn’t just now. it’s been brewing within your heart for years. the weight of reality seems to dissipate, leaving behind only the two of you and this connection beyond friendship that felt so real. his powder blue gaze locked on yours, an unspoken spark flickering between you.

“you know,” he begins, his voice lowers as if he just wanted you to hear what he had to say. like your own little secret, “i’d never thought that finding ourselves dancing like this would feel so—perfect. like out of a movie or something.”

you tilt your head slightly, the air between you shifted as you reply softly, “it really does, doesn’t it? plus, i love this song. it’s from one of my favorite movies.” his thumbs brush against your bare back, igniting a warmth that spreads through your absolute everything. he gulps, getting himself together for what he’s about to say next,

“between you and me—i’d either rewind to this part over and over, or i wouldn’t want the movie to end at all.”

the pale skin of clark’s face paint with a shade of crimson as you lose yourselves in each other’s eyes, the last notes of the song begin to fade. you find yourselves leaning in closer and closer. was this actually happening? in front of lana? in front of your brother? were you both going to—reality creeps back in, the echo of the final chord concludes this ethereal moment. yet, in that fleeting instant, it feels as if time has stood still—if only for a little while. as the final note lingers in the air. you pull back slightly, just enough to read the mixture of emotions in his eyes—surprise, contentment, and something deeper lurking beneath the surface. you clear your throat and join in the applause of the crowd of students when the music instantly reverts back to the vibe of something upbeat to rock with. you clark retire yourselves to sit at one of the empty tables as you were complaining about your feet hurting from the heels you’ve been wearing. being the gentleman that he was, he helps to release your ailing feet from the shoes before venturing off to use the restroom and get some refreshments from the concession table.

while you were occupied massaging your feet, you now feel the presence of two beings sit at each side of you. you just assume it’s your brother coming to rag on you.

“pete, if you’re here to rub in my face about how i shouldn’t have worn heels this high, i will literally bop you with one.” you sass, still looking down until hear familiar feminine chuckles.

“if that’s the case, then i wouldn’t dare to say a word!” you know that quick and precise wit to be none other than your friend, chloe sullivan. you froze and turn your head to see her sitting on your right with lana lang on your left. they both looked radiant in their evening gowns as if they were contestants in a beauty pageant, especially lana. your mood starts to shift once you remembered why you avoided them in the first place. you were praying to god that clark could use his kryptonian speed to rescue you from this awkward situation.

“hey, guys. long time, no see.” you neutrally greet as you place the heels back on.

“long time, no see indeed. it feels like you haven’t had the time to be around us lately—we miss you!” lana mentioned, placing a manicured hand on your knee. what gives her the right to touch you after what she’s done. you were gonna keep your cool because clark should be back any minute now.

“yeah, i’ve just been working to get this full-ride and trying to get ready for tonight. i never knew how much time that would take.” you quip, earning a chuckle from both of the girls.

“well, it looks like it all paid off— you look beautiful!” chloe says flashing her pearly smile, a twinkle within her green eyes as lana nods in agreement. although you were peeved with them, you couldn’t help, but to smile at her compliment.

“i appreciate it, guys. ya’ll look great, too.”

there was a few beats of silence, lana finally removes her hand from your knee and twiddles with her fingers. with the clearing of her throat, she addresses the elephant in the room,

“so—um, it looks like you came with clark tonight. how did your brother take that?” you shoot her a side glance and lean back within your seat, glancing at the corsage on your wrist.

“pete’s cool with it. clark and i just happened to be dateless and he asked me to go with him. we’re just here as friends, of course.” you shrug.

“oh really, now?” she further questioned.

after the slow dance, all three of you found it bit hard to believe when you brought that up. something in lana faltered when she heard that clark had asked you. there was that pressure weighing in her stomach and chest, when she swallowed it felt like there was a lump. her hands gripped onto the fabric of her dress as she was trying to keep her facial expression as normal as possible. you didn’t miss the trace of jealousy within her hazel gaze. if that’s how she wanted to do this, you were about to go in for the kill.

“mhm. sorta like how i’m cool with you going with jeremy ford.”

lana furrowed her brows in confusion at your statement.

“what’s that supposed to mean, y/n?”

“lana, let’s not play games. i’ve told you about my crush on him, you tell me that i should go for him, but then here you are, on his arm here tonight! what’s crazier is that i had to find out from clark and pete.” you comment cutting your gaze over at chloe, letting her know that she wasn’t out of the woods for her role in this disaster.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know that i had to tell you every single that happens in my life. especially in who i date. besides, he was the only one who asked me and i just went along with it because neither of you never made a move!” lana made a valid point, but the mystery was why didn’t she just give you a head’s up, so you still combatted her claim.

“lana. i don’t give a damn about who you date because obviously you didn’t when you and clark got together, knowing that chloe and i had feelings for him. it hurt us, yes, but you were decent enough to say it to our faces because our friendship mattered. i’m not even sure if that’s true now because this time, you just told chloe. i get that she’s roommate, but why? why couldn’t tell me—

“because i didn’t want you telling clark that i’ve moved on so quickly, okay? i’m not exactly over him and he didn’t ask me, so i felt that i didn’t have a choice.” the word vomit spews after she you cuts off. you all take a beat of silence before she continues,

“i’ve seen how close you two have been getting. i-i don’t know what it is, but suddenly he’s like an open book when he’s around you. even when we were together, on and off, he’d never be that way with me, so i guess i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d run off and tell him in a heartbeat. i-i guess i went out with jeremy and didn’t tell you because i was—”

it was now your turn to cut her off.

“jealous?”

conceding, lana silently nodded. it’s amazing how she was so quick to call clark a coward back in the past and pressure him for a truth she wasn’t sure she could even handle, but now look at her. being secretive all because of her obsession with clark exposing himself as who he truly is while they were together.

“wow, so i guess that dance really burned you up. didn’t it, lana? now you see what happens when you’re not completely honest with people who you claim to be their friend.” you sharply retort, venom in your tone.

“y/n, i’m—” she started to speak, but stopped as she did a double take to the male in question heading in your direction. speak of the devil—well, alien in your case. as if his timing weren’t perfect enough, clark had finally appeared with two cups of punch along with two decorated cupcakes. your favorite dessert.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting that long, y/n. there was a long line for the both bathroom and the snacks.” he chuckled as his eyes took notice of his friends, but he felt there was something that went down between you. there was a tension and the vibe wasn’t very pleasant.

“lana, chloe hey!” he cordially greets them both while handing you the refreshments. he grins as your facial expression softens in contentment at the sight of the delicacies, you thank him as you take it into your hands. he makes small talk with lana and chloe, asking them if they’re enjoying the event in which they respond with a “yes” and “mhm” as they nod. it was only a matter of time before what you were worrying about came to fruition. although you were glad at his presence, he could see that you were clearly uncomfortable with the girls sitting at your sides. clark kent guaranteed a good night for both of you, so he had to do what he had to do.

“i’d hate to intrude, but you guys mind if i sat with y/n? i believe i owe her some quality time back for being away for so long.” he requests, awaiting for the girls departure. as soon as lana and chloe heard the words, “quality time”, they instantly acknowledged that he wanted to sit with you, alone. after witnessing what happened, chloe saw it in their best interest if they did leave you and clark alone. no matter how much lana wanted to stay, she still had jeremy to entertain for the night.

“that’s no problem! we were actually just leaving.” with that, chloe stood and took lana’s arm, whisking them both to the other side of the gym before lana could say another word. clark took the seat that chloe had sat in, he peered over to see you happily, but silently indulging in the cupcake. although he didn’t want to ruin the vibe, he still had a hunch and questioned you about what happened previously in his absence.

“hey—are you okay? it looked like you wanted to get out of there.” it was sweet of him to check in on you so you just gave it to him straight.

“yeah, i’ll be fine, clark. lana and i had a fight. it was obviously about jeremy and—” you paused, gazing in his direction, “other things, but i don’t wanna talk about it now. i’m still gonna have a good night with you.” you glance over to the area where the photo-booth station is. “it looks like the line at the photo-booth is slowing down. let’s get a picture after i’m done.”

“yeah, sure! i’m up for that it’s gonna be fun.” he enthusiastically nods, agreeing to the next step.

“you gonna eat that?” you question gesturing to the cupcake that was still in his hand. you had this habit where he would have a morsel of food and you would always ask if he would finish it. no matter what, clark would always give it to you and this was no different. with a chuckle, he gave in. you didn’t notice that some icing had spread to the corner of your lip, but he did.

“hey, hold still. you got something right—” he paused, using his hand to guide your chin, so that you could be face to face. with a gentle swipe of his thumb, the icing disappears. “there.” he finishes, “don’t want anything to spoil our photo op, now would we?” you both erupt in giggles. after serving him a thank you, you both refresh with some punch and make your way to the short line of the photo booth. you two carry on in casual conversation as the first two couples go in, do their thing, and come out leaving with one strip of about five photos. it was now your turn to go in the rectangular booth. it was a bit of a squeeze. given clark’s tall stature. there was a bench, but it looked like it could only hold one person once clark sat down. you inwardly thought a “bless his heart” as his body almost took up the whole bench. still standing, you giggle when he’s about to push the “start” button and you both see a ten second countdown presented on the screen.

“clark! how are we supposed to take pictures when i can’t even sit down? now, i only have five seconds.”

he gazed at you and simply patted his leg, suggesting you’d sit there. you frantically shake your head, quickly declining his offer. you weren’t sure if you should cross that line in this tight space with the your brother’s best friend.

“i know it may look weird to you, but we literally don’t have time. i’m good with it, so c’mon!” he urges, laughing.

“clark, no!” you resist not containing your own chuckles. you’re hysterical as he grasps your wrist and pulls your body to his, so that you were sitting upon his leg. you both look at the direction of the screen count to one and then you hear the first click as it captured your giggling faces. another timer starts when you shift to a normal pose of you wrapping an arm around his shoulder and his around your waist. you both promptly smile for the second time. at the third click, he’s gazing at your profile smiling while you stick your tongue out while throwing up a peace sign. at the fourth, you look over at him to match the never ceasing eye contact which the camera captures. as the timer starts for the final photo, your head is spinning as your senses are all over the place. within these last ten seconds, you look down at his rose red lips while his arm pulls you in closer on his lap. you free hand goes on a journey to reach for his jawline where your fingers graze against the sharp edge of the bone before stopping to completely hold his face. clark leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. your awaiting lips barely ghosting over one another. both of your eyes shut as you pass the point of no return. at the final click, it captures the moment of you and clark kent, tenderly kissing each other for the first time. you’re both lost in the kiss between you lingers for a few more seconds before you open your eyes and the realization of what you’re doing dawns on you.

what the hell just happened?

as if you inherited kryptonian speed, you shoot up from your place on clark’s lap and hastily walk out of the gym towards the back exit. without wasting time, clark called out for you in protest snd was swift enough to collect your photo strip and jog in the direction of where you left. when you pushed open the door, you stood with your back against the brick wall as you let the hot tears cascade down your brown cheeks. you didn’t care if your mascara was running, what were you thinking? you loved the kiss, you loved clark. it was obvious that he was enjoying it as much as you did, but did it hold that same sentiment for him as it did for you? you cross your arms, scolding yourself for being such a hypocrite. you just told lana off for going out with a guy you liked while you, her trusted friend, kissed her ex-boyfriend. you weren’t having a good night and it all seemed so screwed up now.

you sob quietly and stop when you hear the door creak open to reveal clark. he softly calls your name and attempts to reach out to you, but you turn from him and wipe away at your face.

“clark, w-we shouldn’t have done that! we should not have done that.” you reiterate, and start to ramble after you turn to face him again, “clark, what about pete? what’s he gonna say if he finds out? it was already hard enough when you told us about your secret, but i don’t want you to lose him as a friend because of me. i don’t want to lose you because i love you and our friendship too much for that to happen.” silently, he looks down at and you pause, sobbing out your confession.

“you want to know why lana didn’t tell me about jeremy? she’s mad because of how close we’re getting. she’s mad because i know a part of you that she doesn’t, clark— and you know what? i love how close we’ve been getting. i love that you can be honest with me without holding back. i love that you can come to me about the issues with your family. i love that you use your abilities to help and protect others, including me. now i don’t blame her for getting jealous because—” you stop to take his hands within your own and stare straight into his eyes, finally mustering up the courage to say, “i love you, clark. i love you so much. alien or not, it’ll never change how i’ve felt about you. you may think it all you want, but you’re not a monster and you’re not a freak of nature. you’re you. that’s why i’ll always be there for you the best that i can, clark. whether you feel the same way or not.”

clark’s heart raced as he absorbed your words, the weight of your recent confession hanging thick in the air as you wait for an answer, any sign for how he felt. he felt a warmth spread through him, his mind trailing back through memories of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments filled with unspoken understanding between you two.

“i-i…don’t know what to say,” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then show me, clark.” you softly urged with a firmness not daring to break eye contact, “you either stay or leave. you make the call.”

deep inside him, something stirred—a realization that had been hiding deep in the shadows of his heart that’s been there all along. as he looked into your brown eyes, the intensity of your gaze opened something within. so gingerly, he stepped closer, his breath hitching as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. “y/n, i—i want to stay. i want to give you the chance that you deserve because you’ve always been there for me and you just get me. you’re the only girl i can truly be myself with and when you said that you don’t see me as a freak, it only confirmed what i’ve been feeling.”

he gulped, his gaze softening upon your figure as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat before concluding his statement,

“what if i showed you—that i believe what we did in the photo-booth wasn’t a mistake?”

“oh, clark.” you sigh out in resolve before placing your hands on his shoulders, promptly leaning in, and finally closing the distance of your lips for the second time. the first time was gentle, magical, and tender. this kiss however, had more desperation and your movements more fervent. he backed himself up against the wall, naturally guiding you closer, so your bodies were connected. he snakes his arms securely around your waist while your lips move in sync with each other. you lean your head back, sighing as he holds your jaw to sensually entrap your full bottom lip within his. if you wanted to know the feeling of being drunk, this, right here, had to be the epitome of it when you took the bold step of swirling your tongue around his. a hum vibrates deep from his chest and into your mouth when he plays along. this was it—no more doubt, no more guarding your hearts against the unknowns of what you could be together.

while you were lost in each other, lana lang had wanted to find you so, she could hopefully talk things out with you after the confrontation. she left jeremy behind and stepped out of the gym, trying seeking you amidst the crowd before going outside and around to the back of the school. ever so stealthily, her steps faltered as she caught sight of you, her friend, and clark, her ex, caught in the rapture of the most passionate of kisses. she didn’t dare to utter a word nor spoil the moment with an outburst. she didn’t want to ruin things than they already were between you. feeling a mixed pang of hurt, anger, jealousy and defeat, the last thread of hope snapped inside her. with the sting of her watering hazel eyes, she turned back to quietly retreat and find chloe, so they could immediately go home. now, she was leaving behind the remnants of what could have been between her and clark, while you and him are unaware of the heartbreak left lingering in the night.

[kittenwriter]

Cure narratives: when fiction depicts a disability being cured. Because no one on the internet has nuance, it wound up getting overwhelmingly presented as "you should never depict curing disabilities because that's ableist." This rested on the fact that for neurodivergence-type disabilities, "curing" the disability means fundamentally changing the person; you're born neurodivergent and it's an integral part of who you are. (And also this slides really, really easily into eugenics.)

But disability is a broad umbrella! Even with the social model of disability (and if you want a beautiful fictional examination of the social model, look up The Fledging of Az Gabrielson; the author thought through every detail of what it would mean to not have wings in a world where everyone has wings), chronic pain is disabling no matter how well society accommodates it. The vast majority of people with chronic pain would like to not have chronic pain.

There are also some things that exist on a spectrum. I'm not qualified to give an expansive discourse on Deaf culture, but there is a schism between the people who are culturally Deaf and see that as worth preserving and the oralists who lean into cochlear implants and seeking to eliminate it. (For that matter, while it's highly taboo to talk about it and I don't think it's common, neurodivergent people who want a cure do exist. I'm not going to get into all the complications and controversies of John Elder Robison because that's an essay in itself, but look at his book Switched On for something adjacent to that perspective.)

So you wind up with a lengthy set of discussions about what is and isn't acceptable to depict-- and it's a lot like every other diversity discussion in that market-level generalizations wind up getting held against individual authors. It's a problem if every depiction of disability shows cures (and then you get the related things like the "not really blind" trope where you have characters who are supposedly blind but magic or technology allows them to function as though they weren't with no problems)-- but that got turned into (because no one on the internet has nuance) "you should never depict cures and if you do you're ableist," which in turn sparked backlash from the people for whom the cure narrative is wish fulfillment. (I have myself joked about being a Bad Disabled because my own desires as regards cure do not align with the "You must be proud of your ENTIRE DISABILITY" narrative.)

There's also the fact that even among the wish-fulfillment people, sometimes you want to read about someone who is suffering what you're suffering the way you're suffering it without it being magically cured at the end! Or what's desired is fantasy assistance devices that function like actual assistance devices in that they have drawbacks and trade-offs and assist without making the character functionally not disabled.

So I feel like the people in anon's fandoms probably got into the "it is ableist to depict cures" thing with the same level of nuance typical of People On The Internet (which is to say, none) and then mangled it even farther. There's probably also some influence here from a related conversation, that of using fantasy substitutes instead of giving your character real-life actual disabilities, but again, that's a spectrum and depends a lot on how well you do it, and I see it happening more frequently with people wanting to write Stereotype Neurodivergence without considering whether it has any resemblance to actual neurodivergence than I see it with physical disabilities. (See also Sheldon Cooper.)

So now that we've gotten to the end of my essay (this is probably a bit more than you thought you were getting when you asked the question), further reading if you're still so inclined:

"The Trope of Curing Disability" at Disability in Kid Lit

"Disability Tropes 101: The Magical Cure" at Dis(abled) Embodiment

Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare

The Disability Visibility Project

"The Complexities of Curing Disabilities" by Emily Ladeau

And finally, a bunch of people having a conversation on Reddit.

(And now we have proved once again that you can take the girl out of the library but you can't take the librarian out of the girl.)

Tagging question! In canon, a character has a magic-induced health problem. Basically, every so often, he has days moving his back in any way causes staggering amounts of pain and he has severe fatigue. He can't get upright under his own power during severe episodes. Painkillers do not work. The frequency of episodes starts off once every few months but by this point in canon has become a once or twice a week problem. It can hit right out of nowhere even if he was fine all day today or he can wake up with it.

Fandom wank being what it is, people keep insisting to me that this is not a disability. I tagged the fic with Disabled Character because since he's the main character of the fic and this... look, I'm not disabled? I could be wrong. But to me this feels like a disability. If I met someone with this IRL with a non-magical cause I would go, "I 100% believe this qualifies as a disability" without question. But oh, wow. The fandom does NOT agree with me on this. I've gotten several annoyed remarks by people informing me that this is belittling the pain actual disabled people have because disabilities, unlike curses, can't be lifted. And I can see that there's a difference. Thing is, he can't canonically afford to pay to have the curse lifted. He's stuck with it.

Because every single person in this conversation is abled, though, I feel like they're not who I should be listening to. OTNF, I know your readership includes disabled people. Do you/they have any suggestions? Does he qualify as disabled, or am I too attached to my headcanon-y idea of him as being a metaphor for disability?

--

I don't think that's a metaphor. I think that's a canonically (magically) disabled character.

What say you, readers?

[slytherinlives]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanon’s

Sebastian Oliver Sallow (something about his initials being SOS tingles my brain. [also consider, Anne Olivia])

Birthday will change depending on the plot of the story I’m writing but I heavily consider him a September/October baby

Bisexual (pretty self explanatory)

Bookworm. This boy loves to read anything and everything. He doesn’t care what it is and always takes up the opportunity to learn something new.

He is very smart and intelligent when it comes to academics and general knowledge, but is completely oblivious to social cues.

Patronus is a fox. They’re mischievous and sly animals that are known to be tricksters. This also applies to animagus form.

Has ADHD. He struggles to sit still and has specific ticks like bouncing his knee, twirling his quill or wand, pacing back and forth or drumming his fingers. Anything to exude excess energy and keep his hands or legs occupied while he thinks.

Has BPD. He experiences his emotions in excess and will lash out by saying hurtful things or doing hurtful actions without realizing in the moment he’s even doing/saying it and after the fallout he becomes very apologetic and remorseful. (I have an entire thesis on this hc that I can go way more in depth as to why I think this based on canon material shown/given that I will gladly share, but for the sake of this list I won’t.)

Has Asthma. He’s a wheezy boy running through the highlands and swimming in lakes.

Soft tum, round bum. He has defined arm and shoulder muscles from all the dueling and farm work around Feldcroft, but this boy has a little pudgy belly. Also all that running around the highlands and climbing the multiple sets of stairs around the castle exploring, boy has a cake for sure.

HIP DIVOTS HIP DIVOTS HIP DIVOTS

Certified Yapper. He will talk about anything and everything he finds remotely fascinating or annoying. Also certified complainer. He will make sure to let everyone know about how a minor inconvenience made him feel.

Would play quidditch but only because he enjoys a good competition and a way to blow off steam. Would also help him expend all the pent up energy he held in during classes all day. Would be a beater or chaser.

Loyal and protective over those close to him. He would do everything he can to ensure the safety and happiness of his friends and he would always have their back no matter what.

Curse breaker, healer or professor careers are the ones he would excel the most in. Curse breaker because he can put all the knowledge he learned about the dark arts and various curses to use. Healer because he can again, put all that knowledge of curses and maladies to use and help vindicate his inner desire to find a cure, that even if he wasn’t able to do it for Anne, he could at least do it for someone else. Professor because he loves to learn new things but enjoys teaching them even more. He would thrive in teaching students how to cast new spells and dueling techniques. I also imagine it would help him feel a little closer to his parents that he secretly misses more than he’d ever admit out loud.

Messy eater. Not for the lack of manners, but because he gets so excited over food and topics of conversation that he forgets his mouth is full or he's holding something when talking with his hands.

Inherited his freckles and curly hair from his mother. He gets his compassion and bookish tendencies from her too, while his ambition and temper are traits from his father.

Troublemaker. He likes to goof around and pull pranks or break the rules, but only for a bit of fun. He would never do anything to intentionally harm someone else.

Petrified of spiders. I mean can you blame him? Those things are twice his size.

After the deep dive into the dark arts he developed a heavy sense of self loathing and deprecation. Often thinking he’s undeserving of kindness or love. He tries his best to be better and move on but always has that doubt looming over him.

His love language is physical touch. He gets super clingy and whiney when his partner tries to leave and will pout about it until he can hold them again. On the flipside, if he’s stressed, angry or upset, then a small act of holding his hand or giving a hug will instantly lift his mood. (He would prefer to cuddle though so he can pull them close and hold them tightly)

Has a fear of abandonment. After facing so much loss and grief as a child, he constantly fears everyone he gets close to will leave him.

Was a hat stall between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. His mother was a Ravenclaw and he would have loved to feel closer to her by sharing a house, but Anne was sorted into Slytherin before him and he didn’t want her to be alone. He was still satisfied with the decision because his father was a Slytherin and he still got to feel close to one of his parents.

Hates the smell of whiskey and bourbon because it reminds him of Solomon. (His uncle was an angry drunk)

Would have children but the stress and panic of impending fatherhood would stress him out and worry him due to thinking he wouldn’t be a good parent. Circling back to his deep rooted feelings of unworthiness and guilt over past actions and never having a decent father figure to learn from other than fading memories from early childhood. Would probably feel like he’s failing when he can’t fix his child’s problems or calm them down during a tantrum.

Has an intense fear of death that if someone close to him was facing it then he would turn the world upside down to find a way to prevent it. This stems from his fear of abandonment.

Self isolates when he’s upset (counter point, takes his anger out on a training dummy by unleashing his frustration through spell casting)

Loves to rile up others for the sake of finding amusement in their frustration. His favorite classmates to pick on are Leander Prewett and Garreth Weasley. He’s not a bully, just enjoys the banter. “Boys will be boys” behavior.

Speaking of bullies, he hates them. He would go out of his way to step into a situation where he sees another classmate/friend being picked on in a hostile manner.

Would also step in to protect someone from unwanted advances.

Loves to research and spend his free time in the library, but will procrastinate his homework until a few hours before it’s due.

Would thrive off the feeling from showing off his partner to the world, making everyone know they’re together. But would prefer to keep their personal lives more private. Everyone knows they’re together but no one knows what they get up to.

Would go out of his way to plan elaborate dates or trips filled with multiple locations and food.

Is weary of thestrals because they remind him of all the loss he’s faced but finds a strange sort of comfort in them as well

Loves nifflers because they’re just as mischievous as himself

Does the sniff test on a shirt before wearing it

Has various piles of his belongings strewn about that would look messy or disorganized to someone else but he knows precisely where everything is

Is not a morning person. He’s pushing the “five more minutes” luck until inevitably running late.

Is very punctual to things he wants to attend but drags his time to things he’s dreading so he spends as little time as possible there.

Carries a pocket watch that belonged to his father

Has a ring that belonged to his mother that he would only give to the person he’s absolutely sure about marrying.

18+ HC: because he has to spend most of his life in control of every situation, he would relish in the idea of letting someone else take the reins in the bedroom. Although he would struggle with the thought of letting himself be cared for and would grapple with trying to control that too. (Dom/Sub switch depending on his mood)

[nevertheless-moving]

Angsty Continuation of this Crack Szeth/Kaladin Time Travel AU:

"Sir, may I speak with you? It's a matter of some importance."

Dalinar looked up sharply, locking eyes with his Captain of the Guard.

Some of the clerks he had been meeting with had bristled, affronted as ever by what many saw as the unreasonably jumped up dark eyes. His intrusion into the room with barely a knock probably hadn't helped their opinion.

Dalinar ignored them for the moment, choosing instead to maintain eye contact. A chill ran down his spine.

Stormfather. When had the Captain started looking so…worn out? The man's gaze had always been strikingly intense, tired shadows kept at bay by a fiery rage. But now… Dalinar had perhaps seen that expression before, in a dying Chasmfiend. Embers of an unfathomably immense blaze, finally burning itself out. The heat it gave off still enough to scorch a man, but dying nevertheless.

He felt a twinge of guilt. Surely… he hadn't done that? Almight knows he asked a lot of the young man, too much perhaps. But storms… no, something must have happened. He had just seen the man, what, yesterday? Perhaps it had been a week since they had spoken more than in passing, but still. A week of overwork didn't burn through a person like that.

The Highprince cleared his throat. "I assume this has something to do with security?"

Captain Kaladin nodded firmly.

"Very well. Zaninel, Sherath, you're dismissed."

They left without a word, and barely a glare. Perhaps they had also caught something in the Captain's expression.

Kaladin closed the door behind him as he entered. He proceeded to the table, then all but collapsed into the chair across from the Highprince.

Dalinar raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

The darkeyed man rubbed a hand across his forehead, palm seeming to linger across the brands there. He started, sitting up.

"Sorry sir," he said hoarsely. "I forgot myself."

He pushed his weight forward as if to stand, but Dalinar waved him back.

"Its alright," he said. "I'm not one to make a soldier stand when hes clearly on his last chip."

The Captain sagged back.

"I apologize for the breach in decorum, I… last night…" He sighed, squaring his shoulder's and seeming to steel himself. "Well, sir, there's been vital matters I've been debating how to best present to your attention, but now one aspect has come to a head. Bridge four had… a visitor to our fire last night, scared the light out of my men. I've been trying to figure out what to do with him all night."

"A visitor?" Dalinar frowned. "This man is a security concern?"

Kaladin barked a humorless laugh. "It would be fair to say that, yes."

Dalinar waited for more of an explanation.

Kaladin sighed heavily. "I'd like to make a request sir."

"A request."

"That you not immediately put this man to death."

"Not…immediately?" Dalinar felt like an idiotic river spren, only able to mimic words/ But for the life of him, he had no idea where this conversation was going.

The captain nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. "I think he's of more value alive than dead, sir. And… I swore to try and help him regain some measure of his sanity. I can't do that if you kill him on sight."

"Kelek's Breath!" Dalinar said with some disbelief. "This madman if yours, he's truly so alarming, that you think I would do such a thing?"

Kaladin nodded, and Dalinar felt dread pool in his stomach.

"Who is this man?" he whispered.

"His name is Szeth."

"Szeth."

"Yes sir."

"That sounds like a Shin name."

"It is sir."

Dalanir stared down at the Captain, uncertain at what point he had stood up.

"Captain Stormblessed," he said with calm he didnt feel. "I can think of only one Shin man that I would desire to kill on sight."

Kaladin winced, then looked up locking those exhausted, burning eyes with his. "Yes."

"The assassin in white is here." Dalinar stated flatly.

"Yes."

The Highprince took a deep breath to steady himself. "The assassin who killed my brother?"

"Yes."

"The assassin who has been killing world leaders, throwing kingdoms into chaos."

"Yes."

Dalinar grabbed the lapels of Kaladin's jacket, towing him up with an enraged growl. He breathed heavily for a moment , attempting to restrain himself as he stared at that tired, dark expression.

"I trusted you," he hissed. "I trusted you with everything I had, everyone I loved, and you've been working with the Assassin in White."

Storms, did he feel tears in his eyes? Surely this betrayal couldn't hurt worse than Sadeas, but the dagger sharp pain in his sternum said otherwise. Had it all been a ruse? The tower, the retreat, Oathbringer…all one large, intricate lie to trick an old fool?

"No." The captain said firmly, meeting his unsaid questions with a steady, inarguable honesty.

"No, your maj — Sir. No, I have not been working with him. No, I had nothing to do with your brothers death — I was a child at the time, and Szeth and I hadn't even met. When we did first meet, I fought him. Then we fought again. I thought I killed him. I… I actually did kill him, from what i understand."

Kaladin Stormblessed's expression went very far away, but his words continued with that discordant lighteyed crispness he had had from that start.

"He was brought back by… a higher power. I'll explain what I can, but honestly, there's a lot a don't understand. He still very disturbed, but he is trying. He's taking another step along the journey, each day. Szeth is only a danger to himself now."

Stormblessed paused, then looked pained anew.

"Well…mostly. He's prepared to serve you, including as a killer. And…he's indicated that he's similarly willing to listen to my commands. He trusts me, sir. It…I realize this puts you in an uncomfortable position."

Dalinar felt his fingers unclench, and he lowered Stormblessed gently to his seat. There was no question in his mind if he could accept the Captain's word on this, he knew as instinctively as ever that this mans could be trusted.

Knew it more now than ever, seeing in those eyes a man who would rather break himself than break his oaths.

The pain of betrayal ebbed away, leaving a mess of emotions and thoughts in their wake.

Dalinar sat back heavily, rattling the maps and folios on the table.

"Storms!" He scrubbed a hand across his face. "You realize how mad this is, right?"

Kaladin laughed humorlessly. "Very much so."

"I —" Dalinar didn't know where to begin. "Where is he right now?"

"My office — my quarters in the Bridge Four Barrack."

"And he's under guard?"

"I have the Lopen and Rock switching off with him, but like I said, hes rather not a threat to anyone right."

"The Lop— wait, isn't Rock your cook's name?"

"Yessir. And you’ve probably seen Lopen before, he's hard to miss —small, loud, Herdassian."

"The one with one arm? You have a cook and a one armed man guarding the most dangerous man alive? Guarding a known shardbarer?" Dalinar found himself standing again, voice close to a shout. He forced himself back down.

Kaladin smiled weakly for some reason. "He gave me his shardblade, actually. As part of his surrender."

Dalinar glanced at Kaladin's hands, as if to find a shardblade he hadn't noticed.

The Captain opened his mouth, but Dalinar raised a hand. "…I'm not going to enjoy your answer on the location of that either, am I."

"Probably not, no."

Stormlight AU Masterlist

[robin-evry]

Hello! I was thinking about ideas for a furina!yuu (genshin) or Misha!yuu (hsr) perhaps? Also I love your work ^^

⚠️ Contained spoilers for the penacony story quest as well as Fontaine archon quest if you haven't done it as well for chapter 7 ⚠️

It's very rushed due to, me having the final exam week today 🥹🥹

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓

The "Regina of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples and Laws" is deeply loved by her people. She follows each and every trial held at the Opera Epiclese with an inextinguishable passion, and is always acutely aware of how the "audience" sees things.

Part of the film studies club and as well a director with vil on the club, after their appearance towards twst they were recruited to be an actor on a movie and it turned into a huge success making her debut in the industry as one of the brightest stars in twst.

Puts up an arrogant act but deep down is kind and sweet, they just put up the arrogant act to protect themselves. Even tho being already free they still keep their guard up.

Have strives for the dramatic and theater, shares their interest with vil as well each other giving advice on theater and other stuff

During the VDC furina!Yuu performs la vaugelette, the entire stadium was quite admiring their singing as well as the dance of them. After they finish everyone stands up and even applauds.

Vil won't admit it but deep down he knows, furina!yuu is a much better actor than him and will often seek their advice over theater and offer them to join the film studies club and they accept.

During overblot, they will use their elemental skill to fight and give support towards their teammates, healing damage dealing sub damage towards the overblot.

Have tea parties with riddles once a week they discuss school topics, etiquette and other things. They will Always bring a cake from a fancy bakery they usually visit to get their desserts and some occasions vil would join and immerse in the conversation.

Furina!Yuu have a habit of practicing acting in front of a mirror, they pose and act in front of a mirror to find the perfect one.

Sometimes when they're alone in the ramshackle dorm, they have a mental breakdown from their past and grim would comfort them. furina!yuu was mentally drained due to their past but soon started to get better as well finding comfort in NRC.

Lilia would be surprised to learn about their past, as well try to comfort them. They would discuss what it is like in the past as well as Lilia providing comfort for them.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓

A lovable and thoughtful bellboy of The Reverie Hotel. He wished to become an intergalactic adventurer like his grandfather. He was extremely hardworking and was skilled at fixing a variety of machines. He also had a fondness for sharing interstellar rumors with guests. He hoped he could grow up faster and looked forward to embarking on his own star-treading journey.

An enigma at first, misha!yuu has little interaction with the rest of school due not having a physical body but their presence is very much felt in NRC. But the story progresses the same as before.

Will appear at student dreams guiding them with or just simply appearing to speak to them to have a conversation.

Become some sort of spirit or myth towards the students, their presence greatly impacts the school but they lack the Bodied to interact with them

Comforting students being a guiding light and source of light towards everyone, protecting them from the nightmares that plague their minds

They have the desire to grow up quickly so they can immediately go to NRC or they are patiently waiting for them to grow up.

The first years are by far the ones misha!yuu are very close to. Misha!yuu helping grim and protecting him from his nightmares. As well as silver.

But when malleus over blot and put everyone in the school into a deep sleep, misha!yuu and silver were tasked to wake everybody up.

By these adventures they manage to discover misha!yuu fragments of misha!yuu memories and true identity as a person. As well their true name.

In the expense of waking up everyone, misha!yuu will finally fade away due to them being a memory fragment.

When everyone woke up, grim cried at the loss of them. And the school will hold a funeral for misha!yuu or Mikhail!yuu. And put up a picture of them in the halls of NRC.

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Six

Also available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: profanity, timeskip from the previous chapter, brief mentions of brothels, smoking

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Six:

“Vander’s dead.”

Draped across the plush velvet cushions of the sofa in your office, you took a deep drag of your cigarette. Your silk dress rustled as you moved, jewellery twinkling in the reddish pink light. You blew the smoke into the air thoughtfully.

“Dead?” You hummed thoughtfully, then beckoned to the girl standing before you. She crossed the rich carpet, and you pulled her onto the seat next to you before putting the cigarette out on her exposed skin. “Tell me more.”

She hissed at the pain. “There was an explosion… Silco was involved. Last night.” Her voice shook with fear as you drew lazy circles on her shoulder with your fingertip.

At this, you sat up straighter. “Was he?” Your leg began to bounce, and you steepled your hands before placing them on your face. After a long moment of silence, accompanied by your furrowed brow, you leaned back into the sofa.

Flicking a coin at the girl, you jerked your head at the curtain. She stood up, clutching it in her closed fist as she swept aside the beaded veil. You looked at the single rose lying on the low table before you.

“This can’t be good for the Lanes,” you sighed, lying back to rest your head on the tasseled cushion. Another cigarette lit. You inhaled deeply, hand falling as the smoke poured from your lips in a steady stream towards the ceiling. “Now that their leader is gone.” You chuckled lightly. “Fuck them. They never showed me a piece of that community bullshit he pushed so hard for anyways.” You turned your head and looked at the rose. “Right?”

“Years,” you hissed. “It’s been years, and the bastard never thought to come find me.” You almost bit the cigarette, smoke curling from your lips. Your leg was shaking with fury again. “Of course he had to break his stupid promise.” You took a moment to relax, melting back into the cushions.

“People will be clawing for a foothold as the next leader,” you continued thoughtfully, and took another drag. “If Silco brought this about…” Your eyes flicked to the curtains. “What do you think, girls? Should I stay out of it? Or take the chance?”

The silhouettes behind the beads moved as the eavesdropping girls shuffled awkwardly. One of them swept into the room, the other poking her head through the dangling strings.

“W-we’re sorry, Madam,” the one girl stuttered. You languidly swept your gaze across her nervous face. “We couldn’t help but hear you while we were passing.”

You stayed silent for a moment, then took another drag on the cigarette. “Put your mask on, and go find a client.”

She nodded frantically, turning to flee the room, and you gave a low chuckle, standing up. Stabbing the cigarette into a gilded ashtray, you moved the beads aside, and stepped into the carpeted hallway.

The air was sweet and thick, the smell of perfume mixing with the smell of desire. Gold accents flashed wherever you looked. Pushing past a pair awkwardly conversing in the hallway, you put a ringed hand on the doorknob to the back door.

Someone cleared their throat. You turned to look at the masked worker. “Madam.” Extending their hands, they held out your coat. You smiled thinly, plucking it from their hands and wrapping it around yourself, giving a dismissive thanks as you stepped outside into the night. 

You made your way through the Lanes, and, more specifically, to the Last Drop. The one place you hadn’t visited in years. 

The place was lit, men leaving and entering with crates and the like. You spotted Sevika standing outside, arms crossed, glaring at curious passer-by. Jamming your hands into your pockets you glided up to her.

“Sevika.” Your voice was smooth. She looked at you, and suddenly scowled.

“You,” she hissed. “I thought you were banned from here.”

Your lip curled, face filled with amusement. “Not anymore I’m not. Not with Vander out of the picture. Cigarette?”

She stared at you suspiciously as you drew out a pack, offering her one temptingly. She scowled, and took it. You held out your lighter.

“What business do you have here?” Her voice was low, dangerous, even. You withdrew your hand, feigning hurt.

“Can’t I just check up every now and then? Take a visit down memory lane?”

She scoffed. “Don’t seem like the type.”

You smirked. “I’m not. Just wanted to see what was happening so far.” You pouted. “The Lanes don’t talk to me.”

“You run a brothel.” She took a drag of the cigarette. “I’m sure you know enough.”

You giggled at that. “Certainly.” Pausing, you narrowed your eyes, tilting your head. “You’re a funny one. You really left Vander at the drop of a hat, didn’t you?”

“He was a coward.” Smoke curled into the air. “We fare better chances of independence with Silco leading us. There’s nothing more to it.”

You quirked a brow. “Is that so. So it’ll be safe to assume that Silco’s taking over the Lanes.”

She sighed heavily, and turned to look at you properly. “You know it’s obvious? How desperately you’re clinging to the past?”

The light, easy look on your face immediately fell into a scowl. She put a heavy hand on your shoulder, leaning in.

“Do yourself a favour and forget it,” she said steadily, gaze refusing to tear away from yours. “We’re all sorry about Alice. But pestering everyone won’t do you any good.”

You grabbed her arm, the metal tips of your nails digging into her skin and drawing blood. She looked at you, shocked, and tried to pull away. You didn’t budge as you flatly looked at her, unmoving.

“Don’t patronise me.” Your voice sounded bored. You plucked your fingers from Sevika’s arm. You produced a sleek black card, with an address on it, and pushed it to her chest. Gave her a vixen’s smile.

“We’re better than Babette’s,” you said sweetly, then your expression darkened. “She won’t be around for long, anyways.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to expand my business is all.” You grinned at her. She swallowed.

“You’ve changed.”

“So they say.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Good to see you again, [name].”

“Likewise.” You didn’t even bother gracing her with a smile or a goodbye as you turned on your heel, leaving her outside the Last Drop, and disappearing into the night.

A visit to the river always calmed your nerves.

Balled fists shaking, you waded into the freezing water.

How fucking dare she? Clinging to the past? That bitch. You sighed, leaning back into the waves. Your hair spread like smoke through the water. Your best friend left you after your daughter’s death. 

Why wouldn’t you fucking cling to the past?

You’ve changed.

You twitched. No. Hands clawed at the back of your head, curling around your neck, pulling you down.

Gasping, you shot upright. 

It took a few minutes of listening to the silent air broken by the sloshing of waves, drops of water rolling down your skin for your heart to return to it’s normal rate. You turned and dragged yourself to the riverbank.

You needed to find a way to twist the mess of Vander’s death to your advantage.

After the years that had passed, it was about time something happened to the bastard. You let in a shaky breath, brushing your soaked hair from your eyes. 

You just hated that you weren’t involved.

[gurggggleburgle]

the reason why Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan can't attic wife each other in their house and never leave is that they don't have internet or anything else around to help keep them moving. I think we chalk too much of Shen Qingqiu being a super productive person post transmigration often too much to reading into things and treating his unreliable narration as fact.

But like, what is he supposed to do all if not actually go outside and talk to people and get a job. Luo Binghe needs to do things other than be a housewife for his own sanity so he doesn't cabin fever. He can't live focusing his day around a singular person being in the room its not healthy and would drive him insane. These are not overly productive constantly doing things people. These are people doing things to make sure they aren't malaise slugs feeling nothing in their day to day drudgery.

This is just what a healthy post/pre internet mental state kinda looks like.

[luckyricochet]

"Gloire au grand défenseur de la liberté." "Charles. De quelle taverne avez-vous été jeté aujourd'hui?" "Aucune. Mais il est encore tôt. Quand partez-vous sauver l'Amerique?" "D'un jour à l'autre, le cour m'honore d'une commission."

THÉODORE PELLERIN as GILBERT DU MOTIER, THE MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE

EVERY LAFAYETTE SCENE, 7/? ✧ 1x02, FRANKLIN (2024)

[brick-van-dyke]

If there's one thing I've respectively noticed from Zionists and defenders of Israeli war crimes, it's that every source, argument and potential avenue to explore each explanation is riddled with cherry picking, moving the goalposts and mental gymnastics to explain why their conclusions, which typically are barely even related to the sources they use, somehow overshadow literal reality and what we see with our own eyes.

While scrolling, one example I came across was the repetitive misrepresentation of BLM, antifa and quotes from Martin Luther King Jr, as well as statistics, scholarly journal articles and government website information. These are all good sources, yet every single time they're mangled completely until the only possible "interpretation" of any of them is "well Israel is right to defend itself after shorting rockets beforehand because the retaliation was brutal and all Arabs are bad by default therefore". As if any of these sources are even about individual exceptions of Israel versus hatred towards Arabs.

I think what I find most absurd, as someone in the middle of their own studies, is how every bit of critical thinking and logic goes out the window as they do every single thing possible to do what professors worldwide say NOT to do when evaluating sources. It's like watching a race to see who can tangle and misconstrue scientific information to fit their world view the fastest. Then said people say "um actually I studied at university before so it's actually not wrong that I'm doing this exact this everyone is warned not to do because I have a permit". Ignorance I can forgive, but willful and arrogant manipulation? That's another thing entirely.

[qiu-yan]

wei ying got away :(

[bumblingbabooshka]

A Klingon and a half Vulcan discuss childhood dreams. [Patreon | Commissions]