#chapter 10 maybe

[poolboyatthevampiremansionx]

Ancaux save me

[etrevil]

asagiri really said a young girl's trauma should start young

[newttxt]

another comic for “utilities included” skfkskdjsjs

this time for chapter two 😅

masterpost

[maaxverstappen]

help me hold onto you | T | 9/13

f1driver!max and streamer!charles

The man—Charles, Max assumes—sounds French. He loves that. He should be used to a French accent, he was forced to converse with Pierre often enough, but it sounds different coming from Charles. More melodic. Almost similar to someone he used to know once. “And that made me think,” Charles says, voice bellowing from Max’s speakers. “That it was stupid that we didn't have carrots before. Like, come on, it's a farming game.” Max has no fucking idea what the hell he is on about.

or: Max is lonely and finds Charles streaming on Twitch.

based on this prompt sent to @f1prompts

[ruporas]

pre-trimax

[justplaggin]

sigma: but i don't even have a passport! for the average man, trouble on the road equals death!

nikolai: the average man has a passport though

sigma: GIBU MII AIDENTITI‼️

[whumblr]

Shattering

Crossed out - Continued from ch.9 - Prologue

-

“Nothing to clean this time, sir?” Lucas bit when he was dismissed from Nero’s office after a relatively quiet evening. Yeah. He was still sour about having to clean up his own blood that Nero punched out of him last time.

Nero, unfortunately, was always sour.

He didn’t even deign to give him an answer. A hint of exasperation crossed his expression and he replied in his own way. He reached for the glass of water on his desk and threw it with all his force at Lucas.

It flew just past his face and Lucas flinched back hard. “Whoa!”

He turned just in time, throwing his arms in front of his face to avoid a second assail of splintered glass as it shattered against the door.

Dumbfounded, he looked at Nero, to the thousand pieces on the floor and back, mouth slightly agape, shock pumping through his veins.

“There is, actually,” Nero merely said, calm as if that outburst never happened.

Lucas reared up for an ‘are you out of your fucking mind?!’ but before he could even open his mouth, Nero glared up at him, instantly shutting down any back talk.

“Clean that up,” he said, maintaining eye contact. “Before I’ll make you kneel on the shards for the rest of the evening.”

His fight left him in a laboured exhale, his shoulders relaxing. “I’ll… be right back. Sir,” he said haltingly. He carefully stepped around the glass, splinters crackling under his feet. Moments later – now knowing where to collect cleaning materials – he returned and sank to the ground, scraping glass into a dustpan.

Nero watched him over his folded hands. “If I hear so much as a crunch under my boot later…”

Yeah, yeah, Lucas forced back, you’d smash my face in the remains, yeah I know. “Yes, sir,” he replied instead, dutifully, only the barest hint of resentment in his voice. He crept over the floor, reaching with the brush to the far corners catching every splinter of glass that skittered away, careful not to place a knee or rest a hand on the floor.

As he stood the glass jingled against the plastic dustpan and he shot Nero a glance that spelled, ‘satisfied?!’.

Nero merely replied with a curt nod up. Dismissed.

The next evening he didn’t bother with niceties as he entered the office. “What’s on the agenda for this ev—"

Nero barely pointed a finger to his lips and Lucas instantly fell silent.

He watched as Nero languidly pushed himself from his chair. Heard the leather creak, the tires squeak against the floor, the groan of wood when Nero leaned on the desk as he walked around it. Slow footsteps, heavy thumps, a squeal of rubber against the floor, and as he approached, he took a final step almost as in slow motion. And Lucas heard a very feint crushing sound under his boot.

He froze up. Swallowed.

Nero noticed. “That means I don’t have to explain. Good.” He stepped back, pressed a finger to the floor and straightened up again, brushing his finger almost right under Lucas nose. A tiny glass crystal perched on his fingertip.

The tension in the room was palpable. In fact, Lucas was sure it radiated from his rigid frame. Not a word was spoken and he was sure the thundering of his heart could be heard loud and clear. He knew what this meant. But hope still had a tight grasp on him and he didn’t dare shatter the tension, because speaking out didn’t have the most amazing results lately.

Nero moved slowly, eyes on Lucas’, and reached out and picked up the empty vase on the filing cabinet next to them. Probably prepared this afternoon because Lucas had no memory of any decorations brightening this gloomy room.

He let the glass fall. Lucas closed his eyes in resignation at the following crash.

The shards pooled under him, larger than the ones from yesterday where the force behind Nero’s throw had pretty much obliterated everything larger than a pebble. Now, sharp pieces poked up, ready to dig into the skin of anyone careless enough to slice a finger along the edges.

“Get on your knees.” Nero rested his hand on his belt, near the baton.

“You can’t—” Lucas started in a feeble voice but fell silent when the hand casually slid over to rest on the handle of the baton. This was going to happen. And if Nero were to strike him, he’d crash down right into the glass. Maybe, if he was cautious and lowered slowly, his trousers would take the brunt.

“You seem very sure about what I can and can’t do.”

“Yeah, I have this little reference guide. It’s called the law.”

The bit of fire flared up but instantly quashed out again as he looked at the pointy spikes under him.

He took a step back, attempting to do as he was told and sink to his knees, just not, you know, right there. But Nero grabbed him by the collar, held him firmly where he was and simply said, “No.”

Lucas swallowed again. Then bent his knees and slowly, right under Nero’s expectant gaze, lowered himself down. Very carefully he rested his knees on the pieces and gradually let more weight shift forward. He winced, but luckily the glass didn’t fully pierce skin. All he felt was an uncomfortable pressure – that would probably turn worse and worse if Nero kept him here until ten again – and light pricks against his skin as the glass dug through the heavy cotton of his trousers.

Larger shards snapped under the weight, smaller pieces merely crunched uncomfortably under bone, and luckily the splinters couldn’t get through the rough cotton to nestle into sensitive skin. His shoulders firmly lodged high up into his neck, as if he would somehow weigh more and put more pressure on the glass if he were to lower them. But he slowly started to relax. There was no blood, merely a few tiny pinpricks in his trousers and while it hurt, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

He could do this. As long as he stayed still and was careful.

The challenge in his eyes must’ve been visible as he glared up.

All of a sudden, Nero took a firm step towards Lucas and in one swift movement pulled his baton from his belt, aimed a backhanded strike straight at his face and—

Lucas recoiled hard. “No!” He threw his hands up, scooted back on his knees. Cried out as the glass dug harder into his knees as he braced himself. A brush of air that signaled the force of Nero’s blow swiped at his cheekbone. But the blow didn’t land.

His eyes squeezed shut in anticipation, in pain, and he slowly peeked out when he wasn’t blasted away. The baton hovered right in front of his face. A shivery exhale of relief hesitantly brushed over his lips. But the relief was a short one as a sharp pain stabbed into his knees.

Nero merely put the baton back on his belt, walked back to his seat, and slid the piece of paper to the front of his desk. “You know the drill.”

Lucas bared his teeth in a grimace. His eyes watered and he slowly pulled himself back upright on his knees. This time he did feel a wetness seep into his trouser leg and a sharp pressure that didn’t let up. With each micro movement he felt the shards stab deeper into his skin. Every wince only made things worse. And if that wasn’t enough, he could already feel the familiar numbness creep up.

His previous strategy of shifting his legs as much as possible was no option this time. He was sitting in a pool of glass and he could already see long shards precariously close waiting to snap under his weight and bury into his legs. Leaning forward on hands and knees was definitely out of the question. Keep his hands off the floor at all times.

The static in his legs mingled with dull throbbing pressure of dozens of unyielding crystals poking against unyielding bone.

“Pick up the pieces around you—no. Stay like that. When you’re done, then you can get up,” Nero said after half an hour in an unexpected display of mercy.

Or, well, was it?

In his eagerness Lucas bent forward and not only stabbed his knees even further, but also sliced his finger open when he picked up a shard and winced at the same time. It jingled back against the hard floor and he took a deep breath. His legs were already so numb, if he wasn’t careful he’d fall right into the broken pieces. Easy does it, slowly does it.

He carefully picked up the larger pieces first, gathered them into the unbroken base, and looked at Nero when all that remained were the pieces smaller than the tip of his finger. Nero shook his head.

A frustrated growl seeped into his exhale. He wiped the blood away, before he’d have to clean that off the floor too, and pressed his fingers into the tiny shards, picking them up one by one.

It still took him half an hour. Only his muffled grunts and small clinking noises of the crystals falling on glass broke the silence. He skidded across the floor, the pieces under his knees following right along or finding fresh undented patches of skin to bruise as he inched back and forth to reach the pieces further away from him.

Only when mere splinters remained, Nero nodded and allowed him to get up. To get the dustpan again.

Straightening his knees felt like all muscles snapped like those crackle sticks and he couldn’t help a hiss. His trousers weren’t soaked but there were distinctive red stains welling up from the inside out.

He resisted the urge to rest his hands on his thighs and bent forward, stretching his muscles. There were probably still sharp pieces stuck in the fabric. At least he didn’t have to do this on bare feet in his boxers. So to make sure Nero didn’t have a reason to make him walk on fresh glass tomorrow, he swiped the entire floor extra well.

He didn’t look to Nero for approvement, just kept working in silence, prolonging his own torture with squats and strains. And when he was finally done, the word of mercy was delivered in an unimpressed baritone:

“Dismissed.”

-

Continued here

Tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop @andithewhumper @tippytappytyping

@suspicious-whumping-egg @cherrychupachup @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @withdrawingramen

@light-me-on-pyre @treasureguardingdragon @notactuallyluska @fortunately-cool-penguin

[forgotmysword]

[myokk]

Eloise fucking Babbit.

Her name - her full name - kept replaying in his mind over and over as he practically ran through the castle in a furious haze. The other students parted around him with ease, clearly not wanting to get in his way. It was so obvious. How had he missed it?

Why did she have to be a Babbit? Why couldn't she just have had Hubert Abbot or...or Valerius Prince as a brother instead? He thought that he could deal with her having an absolutely boring Hufflepuff or even a Gryffindor as a sibling instead of Leo Babbit.

Yes, yes. Slytherins stick together, and all that. They were supposed to show a unified front against the rest of the houses. But some people were just so insufferable that he had a difficult time remembering that one specific unspoken rule.

(But he wouldn't think about last year, now, would he?)

Seeing her next to them, the family resemblance was clear. She looked just like her brother. The same unruly hair, hazel eyes. They could be twins. But...instead of seeing those hazel eyes filled with barely controlled hatred, today they had been looking at him warmly and mischievously and with trust. Maybe that's how she had tricked him into letting his guard down around her. How she had somehow hoodwinked him into not realizing who she was.

Sebastian had always prided himself on his astute observation skills, his intuition, his quick thinking. It wasn't pride - at least that's what he told himself. (If it was pride, it was well-earned.) He didn't think it was necessarily a bad thing to be aware of his own strengths and acknowledge them. Not like those stupid Gryffindors, for example, who were extremely prideful (the bad kind) and yet falsely humble at the same time. Who preached morality and good without even thinking of nuance, who thought of themselves as above the rest just because they weren't willing to push the limits of what magic was capable of.

It didn't matter that Eloise had frozen in her tracks as soon as she'd heard her mother's voice. Or that flash of fear he'd seen in her widening eyes when she looked up at him. Or the look that she'd given him as her mother had dragged her away from him. Or the twinging feeling he'd felt in his chest at that look.

Or or or.

It didn't matter. She was a fucking Babbit and he knew what that meant. He couldn't trust her. He had even told her about Anne. Anne. Maybe it was a good thing Eloise was a Babbit, after all. He had let himself forget about his sister's curse for a small while, back when he was talking to Eloise on their walk to Hogsmeade. Never mind that it actually felt kind of nice to just talk without those thoughts lingering in the background of his mind. He needed to stay focused.

Sebastian blinked and realized he'd ended up in the Undercroft. He hadn't entered it since last term and the emotions he had felt all of last year threatened to overwhelm him. That obsession. The fear and uncertainty and urgency that shadowed every moment. He let the feelings wash over him again, using them to his advantage to push all thoughts of Eloise to the back of his mind. Yes, it was much better that she turned out to be Babbit's sister. He had almost let himself get distracted today.

He took some calming breaths and then sat down and began to scour through the books he had piled up in the Undercroft, looking for any and all mentions of shrivelfigs and taking meticulous notes.

Shrivelfigs:

Native to Abyssinia - unclear when they were first discovered due to the traditions of passing down knowledge orally

Hardy plants that can thrive in virtually any condition, including subzero temperatures (note: research growing conditions in relation to healing)

Used in the Shrinking Solution, Elixir to Induce Euphoria, Thunderbrew…

(escorting Eloise to Hogsmeade had been the most fun he'd had in ages)

Egyptians have the first recorded use of the shrivelfig in their experiments (note: not the first uses…)

They recorded its medicinal properties, which include:

Removing pain - properties in the leaves (note: unclear if truly gets rid of pain, or just the perception of pain);

When its purple juice is combined with any part of the billywig, has the property to induce euphoria;

Cannot be mixed with powdered horn of a bicorn in any way (note: examine the arithmancy charts for these two ingredients to see just why they cannot be mixed)

Egyptians first introduced the shrivelfig to the Greeks

(he hadn't even minded being bested by her in the duel)

Alizon Pendragon (note: relation to Merlin?) cursed his children and used shrivelfig properties to cure them. Unclear what else he used in these cures…(this part underlined and starred and what else…what else…)

Sebastian stopped writing and stared at his notes. His handwriting was small and precise and neat: another thing he was proud of. His parents had impressed upon him and Anne the importance of education and his mother was very strict with how they wrote. But thinking about them made his insides twist up and his heart burn so he quickly put his quill back to the paper and worked on his notes.

He really did try to be engrossed in the research. He had taken out the shrivelfig and placed it on the desk before him as he worked, as a physical reminder of what he was doing. However, as he moved on to the arithmancy charts for the shrivelfig (quite interesting, really), he found he couldn't concentrate like he normally did.

His traitorous mind kept wandering back to her.

Last night, contrary to what he had said, he hadn't really paid attention when the new student rushed in and caused a stir among the students. As was becoming a more often occurrence, he was in a terribly awful mood.

Saying goodbye to Anne for another year was almost more than he could handle. It was just another mark against him, more proof that he was a failure. Even his twin was telling him to stop stop stop trying to find a cure. That she'd accepted her fate. He should, too.

Utter bullshit.

(But really, did she think those empty words were good enough? Hadn't she known him her whole life? Was it a lack of respect that made her think he would believe her? That she actually thought he didn't know she was trying to fool him? She had been poisoned by him. Giving up because of that man's words.)

Anne tried telling him that she'd accepted her fate. That she could see how his newest obsession was slowly ruining his life. And wasn't it horribly unfair that as she was slowly wasting away, that he, the perfectly healthy twin, was doing it to himself, too? Of his own volition?

Obsession. What a funny word. When Sebastian was younger, it was a word used fondly amongst his family. For his whole life, there had always been something. Something that would keep him occupied and have his interest. As a child, he remembered when it was the magical creatures living around their hamlet. One summer, when he and Anne were eight, they had spend days on end staking out a bowtruckle nest in the little copse next to their house.

Their parents had been charmed by their nightly updates, and had bought them books on magical creatures and empty notebooks to jot down their observations and draw. Every night, they would gather around the notebooks and he would watch in wonder as his father pulled out his wand to enchant the drawings to move and -

(No. He had already told himself that thoughts of them were off limits.)

He had truly noticed the new student when she was already sitting on the stool with the sorting hat on her head. Ominis would later tell him that she had caused quite the entrance. (He wouldn't know, stewing in his own fury and disgusting self-pity as he had been). The Great Hall was completely silent, everyone watching the spectacle that was a new fifth-year be sorted.

She sat there for five minutes.

Nobody sat there for five minutes.

When they hat finally shouted out "SLYTHERIN!" nobody clapped. Whispers everywhere. They all stared at her - had her name even been mentioned?

And Imelda, of course it was Imelda, had called her over because of course she couldn't sit with the first-years. Maybe in a different year at a different time, Sebastian would have been the one to notice and call her over. He had always been good at that sort of thing. Before. The girl was one of them now, after all. Slytherins stick together and whatnot.

The girl - Eloise - was quiet at the dinner table, seemingly more content to listen than to speak. Sebastian could just tell that she was hiding something.

Ominis had given him a look (how did he even do it?) and Sebastian had tried to make an effort. Although he couldn't have remembered what he said that night even if he were being threatened at the end of someone's wand. He did remember reminding her to eat, as lost as she was in her thoughts. What was making her so melancholy?

Ominis and Anne, working together to try and restore Sebastian back to the boy he had been before.

Everything was supposed to be normal.

Except, it wasn't.

Still, Sebastian was content to play the role assigned to him, content to try and make this a good year. He knew it was futile and when that bitch Victoria just had to go and mention Anne...well. Sebastian wasn't stupid. He could feel the limits of his patience beginning to crack and wasn't it better to just get up and leave rather than stay and curse her?

All in all, he thought he had done just fine for the first night of the second year without Anne.

Sebastian blinked blearily at his notes. He had been working on the shrivelfig arithmancy charts - maybe there would be useful information for him to be found in them. He was doing the advanced charts - that included more precise measurements and more complicated methodology. NEWT level. Sebastian had always had a head for numbers, though. He supposed that they were another of his obsessions.

Calm nights, crickets chirping, a floating candle behind them as Sebastian and his mother worked through arithmatic equations. The smell of bread baking, the click of knitting needles making sweaters. He was always very curious as a child, and his mother very patient with him and his endless questions. She would give him equations to work on while she was at school teaching, and every night they would work through the problems together.

(No. Focus on the arithmancy).

Numbers were comforting. As was dueling. With both, he had complete control and knew what the outcome would be. He wasn't the best duelist in their year without reason. Maybe he was strange (definitely), but he loved the comfort and rhythm of a good duel. It always followed a certain pattern, a code of conduct.

That was the second time he saw her and the first time he truly noticed her. Eloise.

For some unfathomable reason, Professor Hecat had put Sebastian against the new girl. He, the best duelist in their year, possibly the school, against a girl whose was gripping her second-hand wand so tightly her knuckles were white. She seemed nervous, but of course he said that he wanted to give her a proper Hogwarts welcome and god why had he even said that, but he had to stick to his word and so he sent out a hex towards her as soon as he heard Professor Hecat say they could start. Maybe it would be better the quicker she was defeated.

But she blocked his attack and gave as good as she got.

He hadn't felt so thrilled in a long time. Maybe not in over a year. Maybe not ever. As they fought, the rest of the students faded into the background and it was just the two of them. A brilliant game of cat and mouse...but who was which was the question that needed answering. Staring into her unfathomable hazel eyes (how had he not recognized them?) and answering and responding to every jinx and hex they hurled at each other. It was exhilarating.

In the end, Eloise beat him using an underhanded trick. Maybe if Sebastian had been a Gryffindor he would have called foul and demanded a rematch but he was a Slytherin and couldn't help but admire her for it. Truth be told, he almost wished that he was the one who had thought of it, but he had been enjoying their duel so much that even if he had thought of it he wouldn't have done it.

When she smirked up at him and said, "Slytherin," his stomach did a weird little flip and he felt his face flush. He needed to get to know this girl better. How had she learned to duel like that?

(Of course, now he knew the answer. With a family like that...it was a wonder she even knew how to smile. Or pretend warmth).

Like a stupid little puppy, he followed her after the class, desperate to keep talking to her. Even inviting her to be his guest at Crossed Wands. But every smile Eloise directed at him made him feel warm and she was like the sun and he thought that maybe if they fought together or even against each other again, maybe he could figure out what it was that was so mesmerizing to him.

In the library after that class, he had kept replaying their interactions with each other, not being able to help the stupid smile that grew on his face. Even letting his guard down, and not noticing when Madam Scribner started walking over. He supposed that he was being suspiciously quiet, and she did have good cause to be suspicious of him as he had forgotten to charm the cover of the book he had opened to something more innocuous.

But, miraculously, he had been saved by Eloise and yes, maybe he had been a little theatrical with his escape. Sebastian couldn't explain why, but just seeing her again and waiting for him and knowing that she had chosen him had made him smile despite himself, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to grab her hand as they escaped together.

She was more intriguing the longer they talked, not least because she could also see thestrals. When she opened up to him about the dragon attack (in hindsight just a tactic to get to him no doubt) he felt a surge of protection previously only felt towards Anne.

When she had fallen into the crates after being hit by the troll he couldn't help the emotions that were twisting up his insides and making his heart start beating at an insane pace. Had she been killed? Oh god please - He was worthless. He had failed her.

But then - faster than his mind could even comprehend - she had somehow gotten up and before he could reach her the troll had been completely and utterly destroyed. He couldn't help but be in awe of her power - this girl who didn't look intimidating and who seemed so unsure of herself until she was fighting - but then she was shaking and hunched over in pain and what could he do? Another reminder of his failure to protect Anne - no, Eloise - and those fucking aurors were nowhere in sight.

(Had she ended up going to the Hospital Wing? He hoped so.)

Ominis found him that night still in the Undercroft. The candle floating behind Sebastian had almost completely extinguished, and the long shadows flickering through the huge open space gave it an ominous feeling. He had started analyzing the meticulous notes he had taken to look for something, anything that could help his sister. His friend slowly made his way forward, guided by his wand, and put his hand on Sebastian's shoulder.

"Sebastian? I heard about the troll attack. Are you fine?"

Sebastian looked up to Ominis, relieved that his friend couldn't see the desperation in his face. He hated himself for not being able to keep it out of his voice, though. "Did you know?"

Ominis sighed. "I think there is more to her than meets the eye. I know -"

"Stop." Sebastian hated how strangled his voice sounded. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and cast a tempus charm to check the time. It was much later than he had thought, and Ominis had probably come to accompany him back to the Slytherin dungeons before he could get detention for breaking curfew.

He didn't bother tidying up the desk before getting up and following Ominis out of the Undercroft. Sebastian couldn't be mad at the other boy - he knew him too well, and knew that Ominis had kept the information to himself for some strange reason known only to him.

That night, Sebastian dreamt of chasing after something just out of his reach and the sound of crickets and the smell of baked bread and remembered nothing when he woke up.

He had always been an early riser. Even after many late-night forays into the restricted section of the library the year before, he had never had the ability to sleep in. Maybe he could head to the Great Hall early - eating breakfast alone was his favorite start to the day.

Walking up the stairs leading out of the boys' dormitories, he saw that the main fire in the common room had already been lit. And - she was sitting by the fire, curled up with a huge stack of books by her side. Sebastian froze - why did she have to be awake right now? Eloise was leaning against the arm of the sofa, her cheek resting in her hand as she read the huge tome in her lap. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. It was her pink lips that his eyes went to, though, her teeth biting the lower one as her eyes moved across the page.

He hated that he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

He told himself that it was just because he was curious about what she was reading, especially after their conversation the day before.

As Sebastian approached, she sighed dramatically and shoved the book in her lap to the side. She rubbed her eyes and grabbed the next book from the stack next to her.

"I'm assuming that isn't one of the interesting books we talked about yesterday."

"Sebastian! What are you doing up already?"

"I could say the same to you," he replied, sitting down next to her and nonchalantly grabbing the book she had just discarded. He made a sound of disgust as he flipped through the pages, stopping at one in the middle. "'A good hostess is always aware of what is being said at her party; no topic of absorbing interest must be admitted to polite conversation.' What is this dribble?"

Eloise snatched the book away from him, a deep flush sweeping over her cheeks. (The flush was not bringing out the green in her eyes and he did not notice it). "For your information, that book was lying there because I found it completely and utterly boring and it's hard enough staying awake right now as it is. This one isn't much better, though." She sighed and threw the book she had just opened, A Wizarding Society's Guide to the Pureblood Customs, to the side. "My mother's making me read all of these so that I can have a smooth introduction to society."

"Ah yes, you're a Babbit," he said, sitting back and putting his hands behind his head. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop the words coming out of his mouth just as he couldn't stop the bitterness seeping into every word. (She deserved it, after all, for tricking him). "Ominis told me last night that he'd known all along." He shook his head. "Why he didn't think to tell me before we had our little adventure yesterday, I'll never know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Eloise angrily. Her hair was starting to escape her braid and puff up around her head. He vaguely thought about how she had obliterated the troll yesterday and maybe it wasn't a good idea to provoke her but instead of being silent he just had to keep speaking. Because he was angry. Because he felt betrayed. Which was completely ridiculous because he barely knew this girl.

"It means," he retorted, "that had I known, I wouldn't have let you get under my skin. I would never risk my life for a Babbit."

Eloise looked so shocked by his confession that she didn't say a single word in defense of herself. He saw her start blinking furiously and her breathing became shallow. (Was he wrong about the situation?)

(He couldn't stop talking.)

"And now," he continued, "I understand why you beat me yesterday in our duel. You've probably spent your whole life practicing."

Eloise stood up quickly and furiously and looked down at him. Her words came out in an angry hiss.

"For your information, I never wanted anything to do with my family. They thought I was a squib and until a few days ago, I was at a muggle finishing school, being prepared to be married off to the most advantageous buyer. I was burned off my family tree when I was eleven. The shameful secret that nobody outside of my family had ever heard of until now. And now, they come back, expecting me to fulfill their image of the perfect daughter." She spat out those last words. (Maybe he had been wrong). "So no, I never practiced dueling because I've spent the last five years living with muggles. I spent my whole life in shame because I never had magic. And now that I finally have everything I wished for my whole life, Ranrok is trying to murder me and has already almost been successful twice. I don't know what sort of problem you have with my family but I assure you that I have no part in it whatsoever. Haven't you learned yet that I'm not to be judged by your faulty assumptions, based on small pieces of the whole picture?"

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed up the spiral staircase, leaving the Slytherin common room and an awestruck Sebastian in her wake.

Sebastian really hates Eloise!!!!!!!

Chapter 7 of my fic, where you get to see his first impressions of her😇😇😇😇😇😇😇

[bloodyopvs]

The Sanguinarch isn't a bad villain or a cliched one.

The only thing that his writing suffers from is the fact that a lot of the finer points in his characterisation were easily missed or flew over our heads due to Arknights's ambiguous writing — I also had to do some deep lore diving to the Arknights Terra Wiki to be able to piece a more coherent picture of him, something more profound than merely 'he's just a mindless psychopath and a remorseless war criminal'.

And it strikes me what he was actually meant to be, in Chapter 13, where he was the main villain.

He is, for lack of a better word, an inverted Jesus figure.

There's a lot of things supporting this.

First, we have the crown of thorns (actually the thing that got into this rabbit hole) that his chibi, boss sprite wore in his second phase. His artist, Chuzenji, also drew him with the same thing. The crown of thorns's symbolism is obvious. Jesus wears one, including his depiction in the famous movie, The Passion of the Christ. Though, it's probably not that special on its own; but it's only the tip of the iceberg.

Then we got the meaning of his name, a portmanteau of a Hebrew word and an angel's name —— 'Dook', meaning pierced, and Ariel, an angel whose name literally means 'Lion/Hero of God', at least according to the Terra Wiki —— and things are starting to get intriguing. Put together, 'Duq'arael' means 'Pierced Lion/Hero of God'. The angel's name aside, the lion is an animal that symbolised 'God's strength and command', one that was closely related to God, to the point where C.S Lewis, author of the famous Chronicles of Narnia, use Aslan, a lion, as a stand-in metaphor for God.

And yes, the deeper you go into Sarkaz lore, the more you discover that it was heavily inspired by the lore of Abrahamic religions in real life, although I won't delve too deeply into this or start drawing parallels to real life events, since it's an extremely sensitive issue. But my point is that Arknights has always been deeply influenced by religious mythology and symbolism, and Duq'arael's name goes deep. It hinted at us on his true character——how he views himself.

(Him killing his own elder brother, who was an 'ideal' King of Sarkaz, was also a clear allusion to the story of Cain and Abel, and ties in with the occult theory that Cain was the first vampire in history, but that's an aside. Though this also serves to strengthen the point that Arknights has always been deeply influenced by religious mythology and symbolisms.)

Back to the topic, I would also argue that his design cleverly reflected this hidden allusion. His uncanny colour palette—white, red and black—could be interpreted as a reversal, so to speak, of Jesus's darker robes and dark hair (as he was so often and popularly depicted to be). His entire design screams vampire nobility, but there's something uncanny about it, which was highlighted when we were first introduced to him in Chapter 10 (or was it 11?). He was described as an ordinary-seeming nobleman, one who wouldn't look out of place speaking about current politics in Victorian telly.

More than that, though...although he wears black and red, 'traditional' vampire colours, his main colour is obviously white. White hair, white clothes.

Both the absence of colour, and the colour of purity, innocence, and rebirth.

Duq'arael is also the 'Prince of Blood'. Amiya, during their confrontation in Chapter 13, asks him what does blood means to him. As a concept, as a symbol——a meaning. Now his answer here isn't that important (although it's curious that he equates it with suffering, especially that of the Sarkaz's), but there's a hidden symbolism bomb here: Blood symbolised passion. When someone angers us, for example, we say that it makes our 'blood boil'. When our lover arouses us, or when we were afraid during a horror movie, we say that it gets 'our blood racing'.

In line with this, Dukare's goal——what he hopes to achieve by sacrificing so many people, including his own people——is to give the Sarkaz, who had been robbed of not only their homes and lands but also their entire identity, who had been brutally dehumanised and discriminated against for centuries, salvation.

At least in his perspective. He spilled a single drop of blood for them, a drop of pure Teekaz blood, in order to give them this salvation as well as to once again summon their original sin in the form of the first Originium. He even goes so far that this is their curse——the curse of being a Sarkaz, the curse of Originium. The implication here is that he wanted to SAVE them. But because he's twisted, because he's 'inverted' Jesus, he accomplishes that by sacrificing others on the cross instead of himself. A selfish 'saviour'.

He also blesses the Sarkaz with his blood, granting them strength. Once more: misplaced salvation.

But wait, there's another layer to this.

Duq'arael's the ONLY one who saw himself as such. He has a saviour complex despite his pretenses to be indolent, and obviously, due to the crimes and sins he committed, others saw him merely as a murderer, a monster, and a blood purist. Someone who can't let go of the past, and is still heavily fettered by it——someone who blatantly refuses to let go.

He, after all, killed his elder brother out of disappointment. He also testifies that he saw several other Kings of Sarkaz come and go during his long life, and with each passing one, he grew more and more disappointed, more and more disillusioned. More and more jaded. That is why he wanted to kill Amiya too; obsessed with slaying her, even. Not because he's blindly obsessed with murder in itself (perhaps not only because), but because he's past the point of saving. Which was his tragedy, and one that Amiya and Logos mourned after they pushed him off the Feranmut.

This motivation of offering salvation is also likely why he agreed to help Theresis take Londinium. He had alluded to it himself; his ultimate goal or even his motivation wasn't to rebuild Kazdel, especially not as the shitty mobile city that most recent Sarkaz remembered it as.

No, he wanted to 'save' them. To offer them salvation; to return their birthright, which is the entire world of Terra, to them. Back from the hands of the Ancients and the Elders, outworlder races who once wrested it out of their grasp and then proceeded to give them misery for centuries. Millennias, even.

Again, that is his role——The False Saviour.

I don't get why Chapter 13's title was 'The Whirlpool That Is Passion' at first, but then I realised that HG was being sneaky. They couldn't possibly call it 'The Passion of the Vampire', which would be TOO on the nose, so that's why they call it that:

The Whirlpool (symbolising Dukare being twisted by his past and his disillusionment) That Is Passion (the Jesus symbolism). It's very clever.

In addition to all of the above, on their 4th Anniversary art, his artist drew him with a white lily. The flower of (you guessed it) purity, innocence, and most importantly, rebirth. It does work with his image as a vampire, plainly speaking, and the Master of the Crimson Court who's obsessed with the purity of the blood, but I'd say it's more than that, since the white lily is also Mary's flower. Mary, as in the Mother of Christ.

So, no, The Sanguinarch isn't a bad villain. While he is undoubtedly a war criminal (wouldn't say that he's misunderstood, since he's an absolute dipshit nonetheless), he's not 'just' a psychopath.

[mirixmoya]

have the people who dogpile those asking for a haymitch or finnick book as having “missed the point” and “being just like the capitol” and “just wanting to see violence” forgotten that The Games themselves often take up significantly less than half of the books???? like when people ask for a haymitch or finnick book they’re very clearly not asking for 40 chapters of kids killing kids ??? they’re asking for books that explore the lives of deeply beloved characters, how those lives were irreparably changed by circumstances beyond their control, and a more detailed illustration of points that only get alluded to in the original books.

[souenkun]

Is anyone ever curious about why the house that takashi's parents owned was never taken over by any youkai, even when it has been abandoned for years, when this series has given us plenty examples of youkai inhabiting a human's dwelling, whether there were still humans living there or not (and either because they like the house, or they just want to mess with humans)? I do wonder if this is relevant to the main plot in some way (like the natsume family name being a ward on its own, hence youkai naturally avoided takashi's parents' house as a result, or if someone had set up wards when the house was built that are still up and functioning to this date, in which case, the question is who would go to that length to protect the natsume family)?

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

Yea

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 24

PREVIOUS

“What do you MEAN Smithy is in the hospital with a stab wound to his stomach?!” Nicky’s own voice is agony for his hangover but honestly, how the fuck else was he supposed to respond when he had asked Andrew where FF was and gotten that as a response.

“Calm down.” Andrew says and he looks tired, looks stressed, and maybe even just…a touch nervous?

Nicky isn’t as good as Neil at reading Andrew Minyard. He doesn’t think anyone will ever be as fluent in the language of Andrew Minyard as Neil Josten but Nicky has picked up some key phrases.

He can see when he’s making a joke that is a step too far. He can see when his cousin wants to kiss Neil but is holding back. He can see when his cousin is stressed.

He can see a guilty curve to Andrew’s spine.

“Andrew, answer me honestly, did you stab my sweet baby freshman?” Nicky asks and he’s not sure if the nausea he feels anymore is from horror or from the sheer number of drinks he had put in his system the night before.

Roland usually cuts him off before he gets this level.

Roland also has a habit of pouring heavier when he’s stressed.

Roland also also tends to make complicated fruity drinks that Nicky likes when he’s stressed.

Andrew’s jaw tenses but it’s Neil who speaks up, “It was an accident. It happened during a fight.” Neil says and Nicky throws his hands up in the air.

“You got into a FIGHT with my sweet baby freshman? Sweet little Smithy? The boy who made brownies that made me feel kinda straight for a dead woman?!” Nicky exclaims and sees Andrew and Neil open their mouths to say something but, “I promised him that if he wanted I’d get him something hard that’d mess his GUTS up but this isn’t what I MEANT.” He lets himself collapse dramatically over the table.

“Nicky, shut up!” Kevin hisses from his spot on the couch.

“When the fuck did Kevin get here?!” Because seriously, how fucked up was Nicky last night that he doesn’t remember Kevin coming on this Columbia trip? Where’d he sit? He couldn’t really remember coming over after Thanksgiving. Had Andrew put Kevin in the trunk? Had Andrew put Nicky in the trunk?

“He came with Wymack.” Neil cut in before Nicky started testing reality. “Wymack is at the hospital since he’s…uh…he’s the…”

“Medical Power of Attorney” Andrew answers.

“Yes! Thank you, the Medical power of attorney for Smith. He needed surgery and Wymack wanted to be nearby in case he had to make any pressing decisions.” Neil explains and yeah that tracks, he knows a little bit about FF’s family and knows that aside from his grandma on his dad’s side the rest can go take a long walk off a short volcano observation platform

“Okay, that explains why Kevin is here….how?! Despite all of the unwarranted advice, Kevin is not a medical professional.” Nicky says before turning to Kevin, “So Kevin, what insane Exy-related reason are you here? Don’t lie and say it’s because you want to sign the get well soon card.” He hisses.

“Fuck you!” Kevin spits, “I need to know how long Smiths is going to be out of commission and what his PT is going to look like. He was supposed to be starting during the spring season.” Kevin growls.

“There it is!” Nicky throws up his hands.

“Nicky, just calm down!” Neil pleads.

“How can I stay calm? Andrew stabbed Smithy! So not only is my favorite freshman in the hospital Andrew’s going to end up back on those god forsaken meds again!” Nicky shouts and buries his face in his hands.

“Smith isn’t going to say that.” Andrew’s voice is calm but Nicky can hear the slight edge.

“Oh yeah?” Nicky asks because he could see FF promising to never mention who stabbed him if Andrew would just spare his life. FF was going to be even MORE of a disaster when it came to his anxiety around Andrew. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if his friend just straight up dropped out after this. His cousin is safe but he’s absolutely going to lose his friend.

“Because he’s saying Romero Malcolm stabbed him.” Andrew finishes.

Nicky sits up.

“Wait, what?” Nicky asks.

“Last night Romero Malcolm was at Eden’s.” Neil says voice even in a way that lets Nicky know that he’s trying to stay calm, “Smith recognized him, heard he wanted to grab,” Neil swallows thickly, “…grab one of my friends and saw them looking at…” Neil trails off and looks to Andrew who shakes his head, “…around for someone to grab.” Neil seems to decide and Nicky knows when something is being hidden from him but he’s more interested in the story than what Neil is hiding at the moment, “He got Romero’s attention so that he wouldn’t do anything bad in Eden’s and let Roland know to call help. He went out alone into the alley but Romero didn’t follow him.” Neil explains.

“Oh thank god.” Nicky sighs.

“Because he’d alerted Jackson Plank was lying in wait to ambush him.” Neil continues.

“Oh dear god.” Nicky exclaims.

“He uh…” Neil looks to Andrew who shakes his head again, “okay we don’t know exactly HOW Smith managed to do it but he beat Jackson up pretty bad.” Neil explains.

Nicky feels his brain stop working.

He has watched FF trip over his own feet, walk into four different trees, and almost sprain his ankle walking across a flat surface. He knows FF has been watching self-defense videos and had even gotten some pointers from Matt but even Matt had told him his better bet was probably just to yell “WOW WHAT’S THAT OVER THERE?!”, point behind the attacker, and run as fast as humanly possible away from a fight.

Neil is still talking.

Nicky boots back up quickly.

“…a gun. He tackled Romero into Andrew and Andrew’s knife ended up in Smith’s stomach on accident while they were wrestling for the gun. Smith is the one who said he’s going to tell everyone who asks that it was Romero. He even said it to me.” Neil says with an awkward laugh.

“And you believed him.” Andrew says and there’s warmth in his cousin’s eyes as he looks at Neil and teases him.

“And I believed him.” Neil confirms.

“Okay, so you swear to me that you did not INTENTIONALLY stab my BFF?” Nicky asks looking at Andrew seriously.

“BFF, seriously?” Kevin asks.

“Best Freshman Friend.” Nicky answers quickly, “Don’t worry Kevin, you lose out to Matt in all regards for my Best Senior Friend.” He says.

Kevin just flips him off but Nicky turns his attention back to Andrew, “Andrew, I need to hear it.” He says .

“I did not intentionally stab Smith.” Andrew confirms.

Nicky lets the horrified nausea leave him with only his hangover nausea.

“Okay, we can work with that.”  Nicky leans back. “Have you heard from that Agent?” he asks looking at Neil.

Neil nods but then looks nervous and shoots a look towards Kevin, “The FBI is sending Browning and a field office agent to talk with us but…Ichirou also contacted me.” He says and Nicky watches as Kevin perks up.

“He did?!” Kevin squawks looking around like he expected the head of the Moriyama family to appear from the shadows.

“He wants to make sure we do our part to keep the Moriyama name out of this. He is going to deal with Romero and Jackson himself.” Neil says looking nervous.

Nicky clenches his eyes shut, “Well you’re not going to mention them right?” he hears Kevin ask.

“Of course not Kevin.” Nicky hears Andrew hiss.

“Good.” Kevin says.

There’s silence in the wake of Neil’s statement.

Nicky takes a deep breath and wishes his head was a little less agonizing. “Why aren’t we at the hospital to see Smithy?” he asks because he has nothing he can do about Ichirou so he may as well put it out of his mind.

There is some grumbling.

“Wymack said that he’ll just make us sit in the waiting room without any updates.” Neil says. “We’re picking up Smith’s grandma from the airport and she’s our ticket to getting an actual update beyond ‘not dead yet’ from Wymack.” He adds.

“What, you really can’t get updates without Wymack?” Nicky asks.

Andrew looks at Nicky and Nicky can’t read a single thing his cousin is thinking.

“What’s Smith’s first name Nicky.” Andrew asks.

“Oh God fucking Dammit.” Nicky’s head hurts too bad for this.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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@i-have-three-feelings

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[onejellyfishplease]

i want to hold open your wings donnie close and give him a pat on the head and a cupcake and tell him everything is okay but you keep putting him in a blender before i can :(

he will never escape >:D

[spinecurlingmice]

Talk about your longfic if you want!! Whatever you want to share :)

HIII thank u for this lovely opportunity 64 .... ^w^

here is the VERY VERY. and i mean VERY scuffed idea i managed to vomit onto the page a bit ago. i dont have a whole lot planned especially since im not exactly sure where i wanna take this

as u can - mayhaps - tell this was spurred on my huge soft spot for kmhn being super clingy and touchy all the time and hajime little spooning.. which is mostly why it's still a little figment for now as it's mostly just. Ohhhh what if komahina shared a bedddd for months on end and nagito had 2 be like oh i dont Want my own room ..... ^///^ incredibly self indulgent .

i have like a very rough few scenes i want 4 chapter one or atleast 1-2 depending on length? i'm going to Assume these'll be in chapter 1 for now . i havent thought too hard on length or updates or what i want. i might do a "lol ch1 was 2k but i lost it at ch2 and made it 10k bc i blacked out and Ah...." but maybe having a set goal limit per chapter would be pretty good ya ? or atleast set amount of scenes for pacing. which i also am gonna have a pretty harsh time with all ive taken up have been either oneshots or short chaptered at 7k max ? i like my bite sizes so it makes a big Overarching narrative a bit OWWWWW on my end. in normal understandable word i have no fucking idea how to actuallly longfic a longfic so this is going to be a big let's stab the idea board and figure if it falls out the wall or sticks. this is like 4 grapes on a plate like this isnt fleshed out bc im more focused on rolling my hinanami cry along

anyways. those scenes

specifically having haji freak his ass out. likeee. Hm im assuming inside the room where everybody was zzzzzzzing . showing how long and kinda how erratic he's become waiting for nagito . see im not sure if im going to kill the kinda really . Gah... canon that 3 had decided to leave us or if i'll use it or not. in fact im not sure if i need to study comatose effects and what all you can really do to like. Help. and how much i wanna research and how much im leaning into the science fiction. probably more science fictiony because. he is in a toxic waste green pod asleep i think im allowed to get away with that. but he's freaking out. bc nagito is the last. and kinda Not waking up on the expected timeline

im thinking around a year and some change for the total wake up process for everybody -nagito at this point. theyve got no like certain average between waking up but around a few months for each?? i gotta math it out but you know ???? maybe ill have set times and tick it up in a note ? who knows. but likee nagito is delaying this, i think itd be extra kinda angsty - but relieving when he does wake - if he's dragging this out to close to 2 years now? nothings super set in stone here

2. not sure if this is a transistion scene or a seperate . im not sure if we're going "he freaked out. dash. he freaked out more but Later." or we're going. Hey. right now right now. ?? the first may be good for word count to make it not seem incredibly sudden but the second will probs be better for pacing.. im unsure. buttttt i want kaz specifically to come in and be like. Hey. so the future foundation is still fighting naegi so (last person awake)'s room isnt ready yet ((okay more info on both soon but.)) .. so like... can we uhm.. use the empty room u stored away for nagito cuz uhm...... glances away. See we're not sure if he's gonna.. ohhh ynow. and hajime kinda snaps at him for that and he's like :( sorry ! but he also has this . Look. everybodys giving hajime that Look this knowing and pitying look. but hajime literally can NOTTT?? give up on nagito that's cruel he's not a lost cause. he's just stubborn is all. his body. hm. but it does freak haji out because kaz is like. okay but what do we do they need somewhere to sleep so he just agrees because he's more on trying to not freak out on nagito possibly NEVER waking up. him possibly dying like that.

okay. these tie into eachother. so the future foundation is not really fond of them. being past remnants and all that jazz that came with ending the world with junko ^_^;; and i think they try to pull a "oh who the fuck r those peopel" card to leave them to their own devices to either do what they can or die . i mean they had a search and kill warrant for them , i dont think theyre going to take them with open arms. HOWEVER. pals makoto and survivor crew (robbed of aoi and yasuhiro lives like why do we see everybody BUT them. like where were they... ((minus future arc, but like that doesnt give u much bc theyre just there in the building not like BEFORE. also . 3 was a fun watch but i dont like a lot of the bits they had canon so bye bye 2nd killing game maybe ill just have ff having a bomb threat or something instead LOLOLOL)) but hey. ur friends r in that organization and they want u to live btw. too bad they actively fight every request sent from jabberwock -> makoto . they're like noooooooo. noooooooooo.. maybe... NOOOOO!!!! esp since ive always held a hc dear to me that ff sends supply ships so they dont like starve to death out there like they could grow food but like . Winter. and also. Time. and other general supplies they need . so like i think theyre like. we are ALREADY doing things and u want MORE?? u want fucking beds and dressers girl FUCK U! the bedrooms.. yes. the "set rooms" r just basic barebones but they get little name tags made by sonia ^w^ . and they obvi get to customize more and get more homey as they r awake longer and kyoko's like hey. hey this is ur stuff from pre-depsair and active despair we found on you and whatever stuff people would give u (safe checked for No Weapons and Despair-Inducing-Episode Stuff) and we both trust u enough and need to rid our storage for more stuff . so take? but likeee yaa ^w^ i think eventually theyd be able to venture off island w. help of their pals to actually see the world recovering.. also #shopping so that's cool. the world mightve bene ruined just a few months ago but come to our mall. death is fast but capitalism is faster SECOND. the person waking up before nagito. God i have no idea. i am thinking death order yea? so gundham? or maybe peko for fuyohiko food since i wanna do Something with him . poke poke squish... maybe ill just be like . ah actually last to wake up was fucking teruteru or something. who knows.

3. i wont lie im not sure how else to continue ch 1 , but i think having 2 scenes probably is not Enough? i can only drag hajime's thought process and worries out so far until it's def sticking feet in the mud and pouting about it on the word count. i think we should maybe have a "hey man we're checking on u because ure kinda like. never seen doing anything but this all day. did you even sleep? hey come have fun u need a break bad look at ur fucking eyebags !! akane tried to make cake and it's not halfbad but come get some b4 she eats it all herself lol..." i just need hajime cornered by his friends he loves ohhh so much .

andnagito waking up would probably be shelved for chapter 2 , just so we dont have like something so super loud instantly? this is chapter 1 of. Uhm. but ch1 is typically not meant to be super explosive and this feels explosive for atleast getting the ball rolling yaaaaknowwwwwwwww? >m< i dont have much else besides these scraps but i hope u had a yummy meal. ur 'meal'