#did he write another book just about the cardinal

[coquelicoq]

just read the words "je suis accourue" in les trois mousquetaires and went omg accourir (auxiliaire être) from my dictionaries 😍😍😍

the great thing about reading the french dictionary cover to cover is that now whenever someone says a word i don't know i can be like "no spoilers please! i'm still in the A's!!"

[deakyjoe]

Bewitch You In The Moonlight

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (fem)

Category: idk

Summary: You encounter a likeminded soul during a sleepless night.

Warnings: insomnia, awkward conversations, swearing/cursing, Copia is a nerd, reader is also a nerd, you’re both lonely and find comfort in each other basically

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: Oh, to have a Copia to spend sleepless nights with. This is currently planned to be a series (but works as a standalone for now!) and is just a big excuse for me to write Copia as the nerdy, dorky, sexy, old man that he is. It’s pretty self indulgent but I hope that others can enjoy it too. Title from… an obvious source ;)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The moonlight was irritating.

Despite being a lover of the night, and the luminous natural satellite that orbited the sky, you couldn't help but find yourself angry at the moon. The fucking moon.

You weren't naturally the easiest person to fall asleep anyway, often finding yourself tossing and turning for hours on end. But since being relocated to a new room, the problem had only gotten worse. The position of your new room meant that the moon shone directly through the window and illuminated your whole bedroom. Even when you closed the curtains, going so far as to tape the edges to the wall at one point, the light still managed to find a way to break through the cracks.

Staring at the silvery gleam reflecting off of the floor, you bit back the tears that were stinging in the back of your eyes and threatening to make your throat close up. You had an early class in the morning, Primo was starting lessons on botany. You were excited, finding something new to study. But you were tired. So tired. And not a wink of sleep was coming to you.

Throwing back the blankets, you swung yourself out of bed and marched over to your bookshelf. Maybe a chapter or two would help you sleep. Scanning the titles, you found that none of them were grabbing you and you held back a scream of frustration. What were you supposed to do?

Pacing around your room for a moment, you thought about what you could do. A late night stroll was the first thing to come to mind. And perhaps to the library. To pick up a new, more attention grabbing book. Maybe one on botany to get a head start on Primo's classes. Yes, that was exactly what you were going to do.

Slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm, you reached for your phone. To find that it was dead. Why hadn't you charged it before getting into bed? You sighed and considered what else could be your light source to guide your path. Your eyes drifted towards a candle that someone had gifted you upon your arrival at the abbey. It was meant to be a joke about the building and its grounds looking old and gothic so outsiders assumed it had no electricity. They were very wrong. But the candle was charming. It sat in a brass holder with a handle. Just like something straight out of a Dickens novel.

You sighed before plucking it from its resting place, never having been lit, and rummaged through a drawer to find some matches. Once you'd acquired those, you ignited the candle and tiptoed to your door. You didn't know exactly why you were being quiet. It wasn't against any rules to be out of bed at this time but you also didn't want to wake anyone else in the same dormitory wing as you. You did know the grievances of losing sleep after all.

You padded along the corridor, glad it was a fairly warm night as you hadn't thought to bring an extra layer to cover the garments you'd chosen to sleep in, with your arm extended out in front of you so the candle could light the way. You'd been right in assuming that all lights in the abbey would be off. It was approaching almost two in the morning.

You weaved through the hallways, knowing the blueprints of the place like the back of your hand, and trotted up and down flights of stairs. Another annoying feature of your new room was that it was farther away from the library than the previous one. You were starting to wonder whether you could put a request in to be moved back.

You started humming a low tune to yourself, something you'd heard on the radio a few days prior, to keep yourself company on the long walk. You weren't scared of the empty abbey exactly, knowing there were hundreds of people sound asleep just through all the sets of doors you'd passed, but you couldn't deny that the darkness and silence was a little spooky.

That spookiness only upped itself when you rounded a corner and were met with a bellowing shriek. You jumped back from the noise, or technically the person it emanated from.

"Sathanas!" The figure gasped, followed by a string of mumbled Italian.

You raised your candle slowly to illuminate their face, surprised by who you had come in contact with. "Cardinal?"

"Sì, sì." He mumbled, not looking at you as he pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself down. He was wearing a matching set of pyjamas, buttons up the middle, a deep red shade with a pattern of grey and brown... were those rats? Upon slightly closer inspection you found that they were indeed rats.

"I like your..." You gestured vaguely at your own pyjamas before pointing at his.

The Cardinal looked surprised as he glanced down at his attire. "Oh, my jammies? Thank you."

"You like rats?" You asked, hoping to get him to relax a little as his breathing was still laboured.

"I love rats!" He exclaimed, immediately shushing himself. "Eh, yes, I like rats."

You smiled at him. "What about rats do you love?"

"Lots of things. They are small. They like cheese. They squeak when they are happy. Very nice little creatures, hehe." He chuckled at his own description, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

You nodded at him, liking the simplicity of his answer. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Cardinal."

"Oh no, it is fine." He shook his head at the memory of the way he'd screamed at you. "Not your fault. This place gives me the heebie jeebies at night."

"Yeah, it is a little creepy." You added on, not voicing your question of why on earth he was a Satanic Cardinal if he couldn't even handle the dark... you figured everybody had layers. That's when you noticed he wasn't carrying any sort of light source. "Cardinal, were you walking around in complete darkness?"

"Uh, no." He sighed. "I thought the moonlight would guide me further. But then I got here. And have been stuck for ten minutes. Walking in circles, I think."

"Oh." You coughed to hide a laugh. "Well, where were you headed? I can get you there if you want."

He looked briefly at your candle, recognising it as the initiation gift of the siblings. "The library."

"Me too." You sent him an easy smile, relieved that you wouldn't have to divert your journey at all.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the wind outside, as you questioned whether it was okay for you to ask him why he was still awake.

Luckily, he answered that query for you. "So, why are you going to the library so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same." You retorted with a smirk. "Bit of an insomniac."

"Ah, I see." He nodded in understanding. "Me too sometimes."

"Is that why you're awake tonight?" You asked.

"Sì. Sleep just would not come to me." He paused and inhaled deeply. "Forgive me, sorella, but you are going to have to remind me of your name."

You smiled and introduced yourself, not the least bit surprised nor offended he couldn't remember your name. You'd only crossed paths on a few occasions and you were sure the Cardinal met a lot of people every day.

"Ah, I think I remember you from that course on rituals I conducted last year. Correct?"

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I took that course."

He hummed. "Mm, you were very eager to learn."

You averted your eyes away from him, embarrassed. "I have a thirst for knowledge, you could say."

"That is a good thing, no?" He wondered and you shrugged. "What other classes have you taken?"

"A few." You replied, not entirely untrue but maybe a little understated since you would take any class you could get your hands on. "I'm starting the botany one tomorrow. Well, today I guess."

"With Primo?" He asked and you nodded. "It will be fascinating, I'm sure."

"I hope so. Even if it's not then he'll be a good teacher. He loves plants." You mumbled, thoughts straying to the gardens that were so meticulously looked after by the retired Papa. "Hey, you should teach a class on rats."

Copia chuckled. "I do not think there would be much interest in that, sorella."

"Maybe a class on small mammal species then?" You offered. "I'm sure there are plenty of amateur zoologists in this place."

He smiled at you. "Would you attend?"

"Only if you promise to do a section on moles." You nodded. "I love those little fuckers."

The Cardinal snorted out a laugh. "Okay, I will take it up with the clergy."

"I look forward to it."

The two of you quickly approached the doors to the library where Copia produced a key from a seemingly invisible pocket to unlock them.

"I didn't even consider it being locked." You whispered, realising that bumping into him had definitely been beneficial.

Copia huffed. "Sì. As much as we encourage sinning, we have some rare editions in here that we do not need siblings to get their hands on in the midst of partying."

"Makes sense." You stepped closer to him to give him more light from the candle to which he thanked you. It was then that you noticed that he was wearing the leather gloves that always adorned his hands during the daytime. Strange that he would also wear them at night. But you weren't going to judge him for it, or even comment on it. "Cardinal-"

"Copia, per favore." He corrected, not taking his eyes off where he was struggling to get the library doors unlocked.

"Copia-" You rolled the name around on your tongue, liking the way it tasted. "-is it okay for me to be in the library at this hour?"

"Of course, sorella-"

You cut him off with your own name to which he glanced at you with a smile.

"I give you full permission. It is the least I can do since you rescued me from the darkness, eh?"

"I suppose." You muttered. "I just don't want you to get in trouble for letting a sister wreak havoc on the library in the middle of the night."

He stood up, as if he were giving up on unlocking the door, and gave you a mirthful look. "What exactly are you planning on doing with these books?"

You relented with a slump of your shoulders. "Read them."

He shrugged. "See? No havoc. Just reading."

"Would you like me to try?" You offered out your hand, palm up, to take the key from him.

"Ah! Sì, sì!" He sounded grateful that he didn't even have to ask you, handing the key over in exchange for the candle.

You shuffled past him and bent down, sliding the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. "There we go."

"Thank you. Sometimes my gloves make it difficult." He sighed as you pushed the door open.

You smiled, curious as to what the deal with the gloves was. Maybe he had an issue with dirt. You decided to just be lighthearted about it. "The price of fashion. Beauty is pain they say."

He looked momentarily surprised by that statement, a pool of red rushing to his cheeks. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. "Uh, yes. They do say."

You bit back a grin at the prospect of making him flustered, he really was a sweet man, and tilted your head in the direction of the library. "Lead the way, Cardinal."

"Copia." He groaned but walked into the library first anyway, candle held out in front of him. "What book were you looking for, sorella?"

You followed him, noting that he'd gone back to calling you sister in response and closed the door behind the two of you. "Initially I was going to read up on some botany. But now I've got the urge to read about rodents."

He perked up and turned quickly to face you again, candle tilting dangerously in the holder at his rapid movement. "I can recommend some books on rodents."

You reached out to steady the candle before it dripped molten wax all over the floor, fingertips brushing against leather as you pulled away. "That sounds lovely, Copia."

He grinned at you and turned away again, walking more eagerly towards the stacks. You rushed to keep up as he started murmuring something about which book would be best for beginners, colliding with his back as he suddenly stopped.

"Sorry." You grunted, rubbing your forehead as you stumbled backwards.

The candle was abandoned on an empty shelf, safely out of the way of any books, and his gloved hands were hovering over you before you even had the chance to blink.

"No, I am sorry. I shouldn't have just stopped. I am an idiot, sì? Please forgive me. Are you okay?" He rambled, eyes wide with panic.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You laughed. "You were just wrapped up in the moment thinking about rats. I get it."

Copia's face dropped in embarrassment. "It is a problem."

"No, I think it's nice that you're so passionate. I get like that when I have something new to learn about." You sent him a reassuring smile. "Besides, you were thinking about books to recommend to me. If anything, it's my fault."

He was stood so close, barely a couple of inches away, that it gave you an opportunity to take him in. Like, really take him in. You'd never been in such close contact before. He sat at the front during mass, you had to sit with the rest of the siblings further back. Any time he conducted anything he would be stood at the head of the room, obviously, and you'd be one of the audience. It felt strange being so near to him.

You knew his eyes were mismatched, it was the gossip of the century when he'd first come to the abbey since nobody had failed to realise how it was similar to the mismatching eyes of the Emeritus line, but you'd never noticed that the darker eye was a gorgeous shade of green before. He also had smile lines, both around his mouth and crinkling the edges of his beautiful eyes. The greys in his hair, which you had always taken notice of, now only stood out more in the flickering candlelight. And where his mouth was hanging slightly open in concern you could see that his bottom row of teeth were crooked.

Realising that you were staring at his mouth, you looked away from him, to somewhere over his shoulder, before you said something you'd regret.

"Don't blame yourself." He said lowly, grabbing the candle off the shelf again as he tilted his head backwards. "Come. The good books on rodents are this way."

You nodded silently and just started following him again. His pace was slower this time, careful not to rush or cause another crash with you. After another minute or so of walking, he rounded a corner and stopped.

"I had the librarian rearrange the stacks so the books about rats were put here instead." He explained as you took in the little nook you'd never seen before.

It was hidden towards the back of the library, dark, with a single small window to provide some evidence of outside life. There sat a set of comfortable looking chairs and a coffee table. It was cosy looking. However, there was no discernible light source. No lamp, no overhead light, nothing with electricity.

"It's nice." You croaked, imagining Copia hidden away here for hours on end. Nothing to keep him company apart from a good book. "I can see why you had the librarian rearrange."

He sent you a small smile before walking over to a couple of sconces on the wall. You squinted and noticed that they held candles. The tug in your chest was unmistakable. You knew Copia didn't have many, if any, friends so the idea that he'd brought you here was flattering.

The hem of his pyjama shirt lifted as he lit the first candle, exposing a stretch of his abdomen. You looked away out of respect. But the glimpse of soft tummy and dark hair had your eyes straying back towards him again. Once you'd locked on to his happy trail, hair trailing both below his waistline and up into what you assumed to blossom into a good amount of chest hair, you couldn't pull away again.

You felt butterflies in your lower stomach, your mouth almost salivating at the sight. It was then you decided to do some research on insomnia to see if the lack of sleep could cause delirium that made your libido skyrocket. Because suddenly wanting to lick your Cardinal's stomach probably wasn't normal behaviour. Although sinning was encouraged...

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Copia giving a small cheer as he managed to light one of the candles. Watching with a new sense of fondness for the man as he attempted to the light the second candle, you decided that you were adamant on becoming his friend. The both of you could probably use a friend. You were making assumptions about him but you could recognise loneliness from a mile away. He was slightly too keen to share his favourite books with you, a little too cautious when it came to potentially doing something wrong, a tad happier than the average person would be when exchanging first names.

Once the other candle was lit, he grinned at you so brightly that the corners of his eyes crinkled. You returned the grin.

"Please take a seat. I will find you a book." He waved his hands at the two armchairs before rushing over to the shelves.

You watched him scanning the spines of the books, choosing to sit on the less worn of the two chairs as you figured that the more tattered one was his favourite. You struggled to avert your eyes when he bent over and you were met with the perfect view of his ass, forcing yourself to be respectful and not indulge in your newfound attraction to him. Just friends, you reminded yourself. You were going to be just friends.

Soon enough he was letting out a little noise of delight and practically skipping back over to you where he collapsed into the spare armchair and handed you the book.

"I believe this one has a chapter on rats and a chapter on moles. As you love those little fuckers so much." He repeated your words from earlier back to you with a proud tone in his voice.

"Thank you." You said sincerely, flipping the book open to the contents page. "I trust your recommendations. I read those books you told us about at the end of the ritual course last year."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Mhm, although I think you were the only person who had ever borrowed them before me." You shrugged. "They were good, very informative."

He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You weren't kidding about your thirst for knowledge, hehe."

You glanced up at him, fingers flicking through the pages of the book on your lap. "It's sort of my motivation in life. Learning as much as possible."

His brows pinched together momentarily. "That is a nice motivation to have."

You smiled, being able to tell that there was more he wanted to say. "But?"

He shook his head with a huff. "How could you tell there was a but?"

"I just know these things."

He huffed again. "But... what of other things?"

You frowned. "Such as? Satan? I am a dedicated sibling of sin, y’know?"

"No, no. I know that, I didn't mean to imply that-" He cut himself off with a sigh. "What about friends?"

Your mouth turned downwards, eyes returning to the book. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Ouch. But I deserved that." He winced. "My apologies. I only wish for all siblings to be happy here."

"I am happy here." You snapped, regretting your tone almost immediately. There was a brief moment of silence where you wished you could take it back.

"Take it from me, I know how lonely a life here can be. Surrounded by so many people yet not really having anyone." He confessed, face falling into a vague sort of sadness.

You didn't know why he was opening up to you. And it wasn't anything you hadn't already deduced about him. But you could see so much of yourself in him that you couldn't understand why you were lashing out when you had been the one telling yourself you wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

"We could be friends." You offered.

He shook his head, taking the offer the wrong way. "Do not say that just because you feel pity for this old Cardinal."

"Aren't you younger than the average upper clergyman?"

"Well, yes. But..." He trailed off. "Still old."

"And I would like to be friends with you."

Copia stared at you for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out if you were being sincere. When you didn't break the eye contact, he realised you were. "Okay..."

You rolled your eyes. "You sound so enthusiastic about the idea."

"Sorry. I mean... okey dokey!" He sent you a double thumbs up and the dorkiest smile you'd ever seen. You couldn't hold back the giggle that rumbled out of your chest at the sight. Copia held the pose for a moment, the smile spreading at your reaction, before he stood from his chair again. "I will get a book of my own and then we can read together. Like friends do, sì?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "Okey dokey."

He chuckled at your repetition of his words before shuffling off with a low groan, muttering something about the pain in his knees, and squatting in front of the stacks. For a man who claimed to be old and had aching joints, he seemed to have no trouble getting down so low. You watched him over the top of your book as he did a little side step crab walk thing to see what titles he hadn't read yet, eyes darting back towards the page when he grabbed a volume and returned to sit next to you.

"What did you choose?"

"A Beginner's Guide to Small Mammals." He read out the cover to you. "Research for that class you're getting me to teach."

You nodded slowly. "Very wise choice."

The two of you descended into peaceful, comfortable silence, the turning of pages breaking the quiet every so often. Copia zoomed through the book he'd chosen, clearly knowing a lot of it already, but you took your time, making sure to take in every single word carefully. You found yourself appreciating rats a little more after you'd finished that chapter and loving moles more than you already did by the time you were halfway through their chapter.

You glanced up to take a look at your reading companion every couple pages or so, enjoying the crease that would appear between his brows every time he came across something he found interesting. A couple of times the two of you made accidental eye contact when you'd go to look at him to find him already looking at you, the two of you smiling awkwardly before looking away again. That, thankfully, didn't ruin the atmosphere however.

Neither of you realised how much time had passed until sunlight had replaced the moonlight shining through the small window despite Copia having almost finished the book he'd chosen and you getting halfway through yours after returning to the beginning once you'd read the two chapters he'd told you about.

"It must be about five in the morning." You commented, that opinion based on the way the rays of sun were positioned. You'd seen a lot of sunrises during your sleepless nights.

"Oh." Copia replied, lowering his book to the coffee table. "What time is Primo's class?"

"Eight." You replied with a sigh, resting your head against the back of your chair and closing your eyes. Despite hours of reading, you still didn't feel like you were close to being able to sleep.

"There is still time for a couple hours of rest."

You shook your head as you opened your eyes again. "I still won't be able to. It's fine. I can survive on no sleep for a day or two."

His eyes widened at the prospect of not sleeping for two nights in a row. "That does not sound healthy."

You laughed. "Probably not. But I get by."

"I'm sorry if I made it worse by keeping you here, I didn't mean-"

You cut him off. "No, not at all. Um, I usually spend sleepless nights pacing around my room and making myself stressed. So this has been a nice change. Thank you for allowing me to read with you. And letting me into the library."

His face softened. "Of course. It's what friends do."

Warmth bloomed in your chest and all you could do was send him a smile that you hoped conveyed how grateful you were. After that the two of you quietly replaced the books you had been reading before extinguishing the sconces and leaving the library. With the sunlight now illuminating the abbey there was no need for your candle anymore so you blew that out as well and held it lower down in front of you, clasped tightly between both of your hands. You handed it to Copia briefly as you locked the library doors for him.

You walked silently for a while, wondering what to say to him now that the tranquil feeling of the library had been left behind. What if books were the key to your conversations with him?

Copia broke the silence. "Did you like the book?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for recommending it." You said, sincerely, and he only shrugged. "How was yours?"

"I have read better." He confessed. "But not terrible."

It went quiet again and the two of you said nothing until you reached the hallway you'd bumped into him in only a few hours ago.

"I, uh, I go this way now." He pointed down a different entryway than the one you needed to go down.

"Oh, okay." You frowned to yourself before looking at him again. "I had a nice night, Copia. Really. Thank you."

"I should thank you. For keeping this old man company." The leather of his gloves creaked as his fists clenched at his sides.

"It's what friends do." You replied before glancing over your shoulder towards a window, the sun was rising even higher. "I should go."

"Sì, sì." He agreed, glancing down at his slipper-clad feet. "I hope you enjoy Primo's class."

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy... being a Cardinal." Your face scrunched at your own words, how hadn't you asked what he was doing the next morning?

He just laughed. "Grazie."

"See you around then." You didn't want to say goodnight, since it wasn't night, and you didn't want to say good morning, as that seemed idiotic. But see you around then? You needed to work on your social skills if this whole friend thing was going to work out.

Copia nodded. "See you around."

And then the two of you went your separate ways. With you wondering whether you should even bother trying to get a nap in before getting ready for botany with Primo, and Copia secretly watching you walk away over his shoulder wondering when his luck had started to change.

A/N: This has been sitting complete in my drafts for a hot minute because I told myself I’d write at least another 2 chapters of it before posting but then I realised it works perfectly fine by itself so I just decided to post it. Hope you enjoyed!

[m0rbidmacabre]

The Latin Professor

You are a student of his, the cardinal… your crush seems to be getting out of hand and your embarrassment begins to rise as the cardinal offers to help you study for your upcoming Latin test.

1110 words

(Hey guys, I know it's been a long time since I have written anything… i guess this me trying to get back into the flow of writing. This part isn't very long.. But I wanted to introduce the characters, and how they are with each other before switching. This is probably only going to published on tumbler as my confidence is shot at the moment. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none so far…

The Latin Professor

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part three

Cardinal Copia had never been the most popular of people, even when he ascended to cardinal in his early adulthood. People always saw him as uptight, scholarly and tiresome. You however… You didn’t see him that way, you saw a handsome, knowledgable man with an undeniably strong work ethic, but you kept your opinions to yourself, afraid your peers would jeer at you for your crush on the cardinal.

This particular day you were working hard in the library, studying for your upcoming language assessment in Latin. You were starting to think that taking the extra course wasn’t the best of your ideas. It wasn’t that you were inept of learning, it was the fact the Cardinal taught the latin class, while you admire him for his efforts in trying to teach you... The class always ended with you daydreaming about him. He would be stood teaching you, making sure your pronunciation was perfect, and all you could think about was how you would like his hands all over you and his perfect mouth in places that would make lucifer himself blush. This often leads to you losing your train of thought and embarrassing yourself even more in front of him. The cardinal most likely thought you were ditsy, a poor student, but if he did… he never let you think that. His praise was never something he kept to himself around you.

As you were flicking through the pages of Latin for dummies, your head in your hands as you struggle to take in the words on the page in front of you, you hear a small cough from behind you. You let out a big huff in annoyance, the last thing you needed right now was siblings bothering you when you needed to study. you slam the book closed and turn in your seat. Your anger quickly turning to embarrassment the moment you notice that it wasn’t a sibling, but the cardinal stood behind you.

“Are you studying hard for your test Sorella?” the cardinal said to you as your face turned a beetroot shade of red.

“I am cardinal, yes. I’m sorry, I thought you were a sibling” you quietly reply shifting in your seat and tidying up your hair... Anything to keep yourself distracted from the awful truth you had just huffed at him. Keeping your temper in check was never your strong suit and you had just shown that to the person you admire most.

“Si, Si… Why don’t you take a break from your studies? You seem frustrated. I hear the gardens look beautiful this afternoon. Would you like to take a walk? I could help you with your studies.” The cardinal offering a small smile to you, his attempt at comforting you, not once questioning your temper.

“Oh, erm… are you sure? Are you not too busy? You quickly answered him, in an attempt to remind him of his duties, in another attempt to avoid him.

“Oh Sorella, I could take some time for my favourite student, si?” he beamed back at you. You felt your stomach grow warm the moment he called you his favourite student, how could you say no? you simply couldn’t.

“Okay…” you smile at him picking up your books, and then offering him your hand to help you up. He obliges and as you stand up, he tucks your arm into his keeping it effortlessly close to him.

Walking though the ministry you both barely say more than a few words to each other. Both of you happy to walk in comforting silence. You steal a glance at the cardinal as you both reach primos gardens, his eyes firmly on the path in front of you both... You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked when he walked with purpose. “The gardens do look beautiful today, maybe a little more because you’re here…” you thought to yourself as the smile eclipsed your lips.

“How about we sit here Sister?” the cardinal asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Erm... Sure, sure” you quickly answered, hoping he didn’t notice the fact you were completely lost in thought.

You both sat down under the willow tree together, the sun making its presence known, casting shadows on the ground that dance though the low-hanging leaves of the tree.

The cardinal turns to you “et soror, ubi incipimus?” (so sister, where do we start?)

You smile at him; you love hearing him speak Latin, he always speaks with such passion. You pull out your book and flick though the pages, looking to formulate an answer for him.

“lets 'legere cardinal” (let's read Cardinal) you goofily answer him. Your answer made him smile so sweetly at you, he always liked your willingness to try.

“Perfect, Sorella!” he answered you. You smile at him, his praise sending you a little pink.

You carried on flicking the pages of the book, and the cardinal sat close by, his legs crossed under his cassock. Your eyes darted the pages as you both sat together.

“Now sister, tell me, how do you say beautiful”

“Pulchra, Cardinal” you answered him, quickly.

“Si… Sister, now can you write it for me?”

You take out your pen and set about writing out the word beautiful, the cardinal shifting in closer to watch that you are doing it correctly. You spell out the word on your pad, saying the word as you write... Mimicking each letter as you spell it. The Cardinal smiles at your efforts and leans in “you see this here Sister? It should be written like this… if you don’t mind...”. Taking your hand, he corrects the word you had just written, lovingly moving with you as you both spell out the words together. “Like this…” he adds, smiling at you. Your eyes drift to the pen and your hand, his hand is placed around yours… and all you can do is look with the embarrassment slowly setting in. You quickly remove your hand, the pen falling to the page and the cardinal removing his just as fast as both of your eyes meet.

“Sorella, I’m sorry... I was only trying to help” the cardinal said to you shyly, his own embarrassment setting in. His face hinting at a pink tint as he waits for your reaction.

“No, cardinal… it’s ok... I have to go... I’m sorry...” you collect your book, slamming it shut and getting to your feet. Running away from the scene before you die of embarrassment. You ache to look back, but your heart won’t let you as you quickly run through the ministry and slam your dorm room closed behind you.

[cherubchoirs]

For the other arc-angels, how painful or unique was their falls/transformations? Like how did they each go about it? Same with Lucifer and Beelzebub?

so in the au where they all fall, 3 of the 4 of them are due to the council - my idea of the archangels is that they are very unique cherubs that are basically the four facets of the tetramorph split into individuals rather than being one as all the others of their choir are. that being the case, once gabriel had failed the council and so had failed god, they then believed all the archangels to be corrupt given their unusual bond. michael is still absent from heaven, but raphael and uriel are condemned in rather easy fashion due to how on edge the whole of heaven is by that point. uriel really can't defend himself, given how he's still in his coma, and raphael unfortunately believes there may be some kind of truth to what they say - the archangels haven't been whole for decades at that point, not with michael so far gone from them, and he's had the creeping fear that this has tainted them with gabriel simply fully manifesting it first. so they lose their light with him, banished down to hell as it is certain they will manifest as fallen angels given their power (quite the. way for uriel to wake up). raphael falls to fraud, as he is quite prone to lying in order to keep the peace, while uriel is sentenced to heresy due to how he has editorialized his records. michael, separate from the rest of them, falls by his own hand as he succeeds in tearing out his light in this version of the au - this casts him into violence, where he wakes still in the absence of god and so becomes consumed by the will of his layer, wishing to tear down the whole of creation as god has seen fit to abandon it. they have failed him.

as for their transformations and punishments, they are as difficult as gabriel's, just with the trappings of their specific layer. i have designs for all of them here, all representative of their layer. uriel is first in heresy, with his look similar to beelzebub's as they share the same cardinal sin - he is perpetually bursting into flame and has taken on the aspects of a goat. he can no longer read his books, can no longer write another word, as it is all burned to ash in his scorching hands. raphael wears the gilded cloak of lead, keeping it on despite its inherent discomfort due to a constant fever that leaves him terribly cold (he continues to carry remedies, though they no longer work for him, and forces hell energy into curative magic as best he can). michael is shocked white like the first layer of violence and takes on aspects of the harpy to reflect his sin, initially tearing apart anyone he encounters. this shifts only when he realizes all of his brothers have fallen as well - he is first found by raphael, who is so tired, so ill, yet still manages to carry all the kindness he was once loved for, to the point that michael feels terribly selfish for what he's done. apart from them, uriel is found by gabriel who has an awful time trying to coax him out a cloistered tower in one of heresy's cathedrals (uriel takes his fall quite badly, largely due to the shock of it, but also due to his now constant prophesying). when they all find one another, they suppose it must be fate, that even michael fell with them despite being away for so long. they become a tightly knit group, protected by gabriel and michael as they had always been, but it's a difficult adjustment to adapt to hell, their new forms, and the perpetual pain of all those separated from god's light....though having v1 around probably breaks up the tension a little bit lol

[da-rulah]

i’m so happy you’re requests are backkk!! and that you’re back safe from your trip!

could i have some copia hc about him having an s/o or crush who LOVES writing, like they have whole shelves of notebooks and everything. would he try to read their stuff? stuff like that!

thank you i hope you’re doing well!

Thank you, lovely! They are for the time being - I'm going to be writing another fic soon so that'll take priority over any new requests but I'm still happy to take them ofc!

And I am doing well, thank you! My trip was good, but exhausting... 5 days of conferences and 10 working days in a row is not my idea of fun, but I've got a couple of extra days off now to compensate. So of course, I'm writing...

Anyway - onwards with the HC! This will be extremely self-indulgent seeing as you literally are describing me lmao

When you'd first met the cardinal, it had been in the library. You'd stumbled upon his little back office where he restored old books and ancient texts day to day.

You'd only been looking for some reference material, still new to the ministry and unfamiliar with the library's layout. But he was happy for the company, effectively guiding you to the section of the library you needed while conversing about what you were writing.

He offered you the spare desk in his little office, to use when you needed a quiet space free of the expectation to be social in another's company while you could focus on your writing.

You would use it often, and you got to know Copia quite well over time.

The longer you shared an office, the bigger your collection of notebooks with ideas, mind-maps, character profiles and plot plans gathered on the shelves behind your desk. Rows upon rows of notebooks...

He would nag you to let him read something of yours some time, but you'd wave him off with an "it's not ready yet..." But he'd never stop asking. One day you'd let him...

"Please, just a chapter? Will you let me, just once cara mio?"

And you did. Eventually, you let him read the book you had typed on your typewriter over the span of the last six months. He laughed. He cried. He fell in love. With the book, but also... with you.

The way you wrote, it was like the words sang to him. Your mind was truly as beautiful as your physical self. How could he not fall for you?

But he kept this to himself, for fear of frightening you out of this tiny little office and risk not seeing you every day.

Eventually, your birthday came around, and Copia had prepared something so special for you...

Whilst you had slept, he had snuck back into the office and worked all night.

Using his talent for book restoration, he had bound the hundreds of loose pages of your novel into a stunning original hardback book, crafted himself.

The cover was so ornate, so beautifully designed with references to the story itself in the red embossed artwork.

When you had opened it, he was terrified. What if you hadn't wanted it to be bound? What if you weren't totally done with it?

But, oh, how you wept.

It was the most beautiful, most thoughtful gift anyone had every given to you. He had handled your work with the care and affection that you had poured into it whilst writing it.

The same care and affection, it would seem, he had for you.

That night, after celebrating your birthday with him at a dinner he had prepared himself, you had confessed to him that the love interest of your novel had taken on the traits you had seen in him.

"What... what do you mean?" He had been so confused at first.

"I guess... what I'm trying to say, is that... He became you. And I think I fell for him..."

He had kissed you when you confessed, relieved to have his feelings reciprocated.

Years on, even in his now papacy, the two of you shared that office when he had some free time.

And somehow, he still always managed to find the time to bind the first drafts of your manuscripts together for you, to then ship to your publisher as a fully fledged published author now.

With the same care and affection as that first binding, you now had a collection of manuscripts you kept for your own personal memento collection.

Just as he would bind your books so beautifully together, you were now bound to each other. Forever.

[quietbluejay]

Vulkan Lives 1

let's light this review on fire er Salamanders, bring your big green eggs

...you know? the barbecue company?

Flashback to Isstvan V

yeah

you know what, they are pretty alike also WHY did the temperature in my room plunge as soon as i started this novel

rare W for Konrad okay so now we're getting somewhere and now we have 3 times in which a primarch grabbed another primarch's face though at least Konrad didn't make it weird. Yes you heard it here first: Konrad is the most wholesome face-grabber.

also alas i see Kyme is a believer in the sexy evil lamp horus

ah Vulkan is hallucinating

because the next person he sees is Guilliman, who stabs him with his sword

yeah it's curze as we knew because we've read the book summary i dunno if vulkan's hallucinating or something warpy is going on though

another thing that kinda makes it feel warpy is that Vulkan never irl saw Horus in his evil sexy lamp armour but he was like that here okay let's go see someone else

crimson armour blood angels was my first thought but

it's erebus! they're word bearers so like does erebus use healing magic to fix his face every time it gets bashed in? and then does he have to redo the tattoos? it's a serious question I have! Erebus speaks haltingly about "the weapons"

so elias is going to go looking for them okay that was a bit weird

so that was the prologue well i've read worse prologues i guess okay chapter 1 opens on the world of Traoris which is a "blessed" world

but it's not blessed for everyone

also those 40k vibes, man, Kyme why do you keep doing this (it was there in Promethean Sun too)

you know i thought i read the sample for this book but i remember absolutely zero of what's happened

so apparently, the shadows are eating people with guns oh that sounds like night lords or i guess raven guard but it's not raven guard imagine that twist tho so the city is filled with paranoia she manages to run into Cardinal Square while thinking of her dad who is dying of cancer and then she saw him who i am guessing was a statue it's the golden king so her dad told her about the coming of the imperium

blech

this is the excerpt I posted and I got people going "bluejay you NEED to find a new fandom with actually good writers"

yeah it's word bearers getting sacrifices honestly i don't even know the point of this also this entire section could be taking place in 40k and you wouldn't know the difference

they're hard men doing hard things we've switched to these guys who are doing digging…somewhere they're looking for weapons

oh, it's Numeon he's a Salamander so they're observing the city one salamander: maybe it's so quiet because they're going to surrender

it's not as bad as Fulgrim…it's not as bad yet… i keep telling myself this

har har har you know what for all Swallow's faults, he could actually write banter

hey let's see "normal" vulkan

vulkan: only speaking to a remembrancer in environments that are highly dangerous for a regular human im rolling my eyes at "blacksmiter" meanwhile an augmented human is currently branding him

Seriph thinks it's a humble origin for a primarch she's been in here for 21 minutes now which is a record for the remembrancers

…did the Emperor not tell Vulkan that he made the primarchs to be his generals? anyways Vulkan says that he would have been a farmer, otherwise not a blacksmith? weird his voice also gets described as "diabolic"

honestly it just seems to me like Vulkan is enjoying making remembrancers suffer one of the Pyre Guard comes in and is like "another one?" Vulkan: this one did better than the others, she can talk to me again so Vulkan is heavily covered in brands which I guess primarch skin doesn't heal over? Fulgrim must be so jelly because he wanted tattoos but they'd keep healing

Vulkan orders a new plan one that has less cost to civilian life the Pyre Guard talks about how they're going to do things and my goodness you know you never know what you've got til it's gone I miss Rath's dialogue i even miss Swallow (not sharing it this time)

HA WEEB

Vulkan asks how the remembrancer is doing "she lives" "good" Vulkan how many remembrancers have you killed so far??

lol lmao he gets news from the front, they breached the wall with zero resistance weird over to Numetor Nemetor who is a different guy than Numeon

the city stinks of death

also he spies Nostraman graffiti written in blood on a scholam and again, why are we using 40k terms so Vulkan set his soldiers to burning the city to ash

yeah, Curze is here oy

Curze: lmao what are you going to do

pensive emoji

bats are signs of death now also didn't you know erebus is a bat vulkan: are you trying to goad me curze: lol. lmao.

Curze: all the other cities will surrender to us now. that's my present Vulkan: you killed innocent people! Curze: lmao no one's innocent

to be continued!

[bolliancat]

And here I am again with another wave of inspiration. And yes, I like to suffer while writing.

This was inspired by a chat with Copia on c.ai

—————————————♡—————————————

Cardinal Copia x gn!Reader

W: hurt/comfort

A little sad moment in the life of our Cardinal, but he isn't alone anymore.

—————————————♡—————————————

He's so cute, I can't-

Just Copia

He is so tired of being a Cardinal. Of being treated like a tool. Like he wasn't a human.

Everyone in that place did it to him, except you. For you, he was just Copia. A human with feelings and desires, and you respected him. You respected his human side. You don't see just a tool in him.

That's why he's searching for you now. Nihil had, again, said that he was weak and unable to stay on the ministry if he kept having feelings. And you are his safe place inside of that mess.

He's almost desperate in his steps. He wants to cry, but he wants to do it with you holding him. He doesn't want to feel alone again.

He found you in the place he knew you would be. In the library.

It scared you how he ran to you and hugged you tightly, making you let the book fall on the ground.

"Hey... what's wrong?" You asked softly, hugging him back as he cried on your shoulder.

"I-... it w-was Nihil..." he whispered quietly, holding you like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

"He yelled at you again?" You asked and he nodded, crying on your shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He took a few seconds before shaking his head and burying his face on the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling your skin.

You respected it, staying in silence and giving him the physical touch he so deeply craved in that moment. You caressed his back, feeling how he melted under your touch.

After a few minutes, he was calmer. "You are not a tool. Remember it." You whispered. He sniffled and nodded slowly.

"Y-you make me feel..." he started, his voice muffled on your neck. "I c-can be just Copia... when I'm with you..." he murmured, closing his eyes as he lay his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, relieved to hear that. A smile slowly appeared on your face as you stroked his back. "You're not alone, Copia." You said, placing a kiss on his head.

He melted even more under your kiss, feeling like he was the luckiest man right now. You smiled. Poor man, he was so touch-starved.

"Do you want to sit down? I think it'll be more comfortable." He nodded, reluctantly pulling away as you led him towards a large couch.

You sit down on the couch, waiting for him to sit by your side.

"M-may I... may I try something new..?" He asked, blushing and looking away. "Only if you f-feel comfortable..."

You nodded as he looked at you. He slowly sits on the couch, putting his legs on it and laying down to rest his head on your lap. You chuckled softly, placing your hands on his hair and caressing his scalp.

He smiled at you, feeling relieved that you liked it. His face was a mess. His makeup was ruined with his tears. You slowly used your fingers to clean where shouldn't be black paint.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your delicate fingers on his face.

After a few minutes — you made it last longer than it would be — you finished cleaning his face. It wasn't perfect, but it made you smile proudly.

He opened his eyes, mismatched eyes looking at you. "Thank you," he whispered.

You caressed his cheek, smiling at him. "You're more than welcome, Copia." It made his heart melt even more. It was not Cardinal. You didn't called him by his title. You called him by his name. By who he was. And it made him smile sweetly at you.

With you, he was just Copia.

—————————————♡—————————————

Our poor man, I love him sm

Hope you liked it ♡

[blogger360ncislarules]

“Wolf Hall: The Mirror and The Light” producer Colin Callender has blamed the influx of U.S. streamers for driving up the cost of drama production in the U.K., saying it has “caused us a real problem.”

“In the 10 years since we made the first show [“Wolf Hall”], the cost of producing drama in the U.K. has gone through the roof,” Callender said after a preview screening of the Hilary Mantel adaptation this week. “It’s increased exponentially. And ironically, in spite of all the talk about the inward investment from America being great for the industry, it’s caused us a real problem, because it’s meant that the streamers in particular are paying significantly more money for talent, locations and so on.”

“And so when you take the combination of inflation, cost of living, the extraordinary increase in rates that talent are being paid, in part because of the streamers, it’s made producing drama of this scale very, very challenging for British producers.”

Callender is CEO of Playground Entertainment, which produces the “Wolf Hall” series as well as other shows including “All Creatures Great & Small.”

The first season of “Wolf Hall,” based on the first two books of Mantel’s trilogy about Henry VIII’s advisor Thomas Cromwell, was released in 2015, starring Mark Rylance as Cromwell and Damien Lewis as Henry VIII. Claire Foy played Henry’s second wife Anne Bolyen, who was axed – literally – at the end of the first season.

It was another five years before Mantel, who died unexpectedly in 2022, published the final book, titled “The Mirror and The Light.” The adaptation of the novel was delayed further by the COVID pandemic, the actors’ schedules and the locations, many of which are real Tudor buildings, meaning the production could only shoot when they were closed to tourists in the off-season.

Peter Kozminski, who directed the first season, returns alongside screenwriter Peter Straughan as well as many of the actors, including Lewis and Rylance.

Straughan said the creative team were “handicapped” without Mantel’s input following her death. The author had contributed significantly to the first season as well as a stage adaptation, reportedly one of the reasons the third book had been much delayed. But the screenwriter revealed that while Mantel was writing “The Mirror and The Light” she had sent him portions of the novel as well as lengthy “email exchanges” which were a “fantastic resource.”

“Some people feel — I happened to — that while she was alive, she was the greatest writer in the English language living,” he said. “And we are now adapting her last novel. It was quite a responsibility. And I think for me personally, I just obsessed with not letting her down.”

The third book – and the corresponding series – charts Cromwell’s downfall from favored courtier to enemy of the state, which director Kozminski described as “a story of descent and descent into darkness.”

Kozminski also touched on the addition this season of actors of color, after the first instalment of the series featured an entirely white cast. “This is not something we did in the first series. I’m delighted we’ve been able to do it [now],” said the director. “The approach was we want the very best actors who are available for the show.”

“Obviously we aren’t playing lookalikes in the series. Damian is many things, but he doesn’t resemble Henry VIII particularly, Jonathan Pryce doesn’t particularly resemble Cardinal Wolsey.”

Lewis admitted during the Q&A that he had donned padding to fill out his figure during the current series. Asked how he wanted to play Henry in the new adaptation, Lewis replied simply “fat.” The actor wore a “fabulous foam suit,” he revealed, which protected him from the chilly British weather while shooting on location. “He is physically imposing, as well as psychologically unpredictable,” Lewis said of the sixteenth century monarch.

Asked what his most “memorable” moment during production was, Lewis replied it was the wedding between Henry and his third wife, Jane Seymour (played by Kate Phillips), as well as another scene in which she dies following childbirth. “It was a particularly moving day as she passed,” said Lewis, whose own wife, “Harry Potter” actor Helen McRory, died in 2021. “From an acting point of view, and being immersed and present, it was a lovely moment.”

[crater-lake]

118

5/21/24

I have 20 days until I leave Austria. J'ai vingt jours jusqu'à je m'aille d'Autriche.

Reasons for Staying

That a season to speak through me has to shout but I am quiet. 

I’m vulgar enough to dissect this body. The one right here. Meaning is more long term than pleasure and I am an investor, a good American. 

Become sufficiently sacreligious let us understand how the body’s systems folds into and feeds itself to sustain itself. 

That I cried on this flight, reading other words, better words. Dreams feel thrilling two armlengths way. 

Six poetry books for a weekend trip. Because I am 17 and 71. 

That I am still deciding between love and mercy. I do not have a cleverer subject or ultimatum currently. I want to be forgiven before I grieve. I wonder if I can be more curious about grief than it is about me. 

And a list of verbs I have yet to unlock. And my wordlist with warbling, eclipsis, and passerine. Why do you have a face? 

What an eclipse does to a half-sprung chorus. Lenition. 

Blue jays, northern cardinals, mourning doves transmit from my phone into crumple space of my room and I find it hard to feed myself many days of the week though it embarrasses me to say. 

Mourning doves oppress Spring air with death and Mom hears it for 32 years to have it be born in me. I found it and now I am speaking with intention for probably a few years before what is next. Obsession is very useful because everything is terrifying. When everything is not terrifying, it feels like a Sudoku board that went wrong somewhere. I am not sure if a good friend likes me or not as well. I think in saying this I hear something else, deeper, speak. 

That I cannot rhyme this story. That the cool boy with dark eyes in Seventh Grade ruined magic. That he said there was no such thing, only science, facts. That the 3 blocks to the Walgreens was impossible. It felt like a voyage that could drown me.I have too many words and not enough ideas. No, the conviction behind my ideas is wavering. No, I have just chosen the wrong story to sculpt. No, I am not sure who will listen and I am not sure if there is a story in the first place and I am not sure if it is worthwhile if it is mine. If I did not have to be inside a paragraph for it to hold my attention. 

I might be a bad poet on Instagram soon if it means holding a name and conviction. Tuh! 

I posted the above to my online journal because it seemed to fit the canon of the other writings that I waver inside of me every minute of every day and I cannot stand it. I distract myself by staring at it and seeing if it changes. I will occupy the inside of the feeling for a long time, even if it makes me insane or stupid, just to see. Fuck you, Lorenz.

I also want to talk about how I think Molly is generally annoyed with me and I want to broach that with her soon. I don't mind it but I am feeling insecure and am wondering what an appropriate course of action would be. Which is fair.

I also have talked to Anna about moving into her apartment for next year so I can get out of here because I am unable to stand living here unfortunately. This apartment has a pretty stifling atmosphere to me, and I do recognize how I contribute to it by isolating myself, but I isolate myself because of anxiety and shame, and me and Bettina's modi operandi and personalities do not glom well and I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO SLEEP. I WANT TO WALK AROUND ALL DIE AND EAT MYSELF IN THE MOUTH OF THE SUN. THE PIANO IN VOTIV PARK DISAPPEARED. I AM USELESS DURING BAR TRIVIA. ONE WINDMILL IN A FOREST OF WINDMILLS. A LIGHT ON A HORIZON NO ONE IS LOOKING AT. A WINDOW IN THE CITY OF GLASS. Bettina and I will talk about next year tomorrow and I will explain that I am going to look for another place and am likely going with Anna's apartment because it would just be easier for me given how I feel in here. And I will not assign blame at all, actually, but will just be honest because I actually do appreciate her efforts to communicate with me. I am just particular and I accept that about myself and I forgive myself for not having done a better job. I write this last sentence because I feel Lorenz shaming me in my head. And I am noticing also how things fester from High School onwards: baggage. Problems begin to stick and feel more permanent, like identity markers, stones becoming boulders.

Without Grindr the smallness of myself, the fretting and anxiety, the difficulty with planning, and my general neutrality has become abundantly clear. I may be slightly depressed generally but it feels like a good way to right off not having pleasure all of the time. I think I am very accustomed to satisfaction or I find dissatisfaction to be uncomfortable and stressful so I do everything I can to avoid it but it usually is fruitless. I wonder why Molly likes Lisa more than me even when I am writing these sentences. I want to text Molly and apologize if little things about me bother her but what would that accomplish actually? I will try to make sense of this feeling and offer forgiveness towards it. Later I will not go insane about devotion but I have to distract myself for 65 years and then I get to have a great break. I wish my brain was normal and I wish it was not contrived to speak that way. I want things to be easier. I wish I had more clarity inside my head and that I didn't stay stupid things and that I just was smarter about my surroundings and, tasks, and that I did not get bizarrely stressed about board games. I do charge myself with these things and each word bleeds a little bit as my fingers tap them out. Right where my stomach pouch folds a little evil feeling is nestled inside that makes me want to stay awake for the joy and terror and agency of it. Transitioning between sleep and awakeness is literally hard for me because it is hard to live in this apartment. I am writing because moments where I do not wish to be someone else are mystifying and enough to believe in hope, and I can use the word alders, the cold hush of it like smoke rising from a chimney in iron clad winter. I know about the magic of it. I am realizing how when I was 18, all of this, what I am getting out now was literally already inside of me but I could not translate it and I have known since I was 15 that I will need to spend a lifetime trying to perfect the projection of the craziness inside. Not craziness. Not incorrectness. Not agony. I can do it as soon as my story stops being my own. As soon as I see more of myself and use the word Alders and share the right things with the right people and the right things with nobody else. I think about so many things at once that some people would not call that clarity but that is where they would be wrong. The Highland Park Dunkin' Donuts where the Hasidim would frequent, an old man donning a Yarmulke drinking his large coffee on an iPad, his white frizzy beard, big ears and glasses, who had no idea that I was also Jewish. The coffee there tasted like smoke and mud and put lightning in my fingers. My story is my story. At 18, I was obsessed with the sentence, "I know more than I know" because I knew I could only be 18 when I was 22 and I know I can be 22 when I am 25 but one day I will be faster than the whirring and when I stand tall looking down at it, it will bend trying to get a look at me. I do not miss Murod I miss how I was not afraid to die for any other reason than to be beat the zenith of my grandiose suffering. In the summer when Julian and I exchange nervous glances and try to both be big when no one leaves their hometown completely if they have lived right and my parents grow older and I am squandering privilege and uniqueness and I should be more concerned about politics so that I can get a good job in the UN one day. I mostly rather be beautiful because I am clever enough to know what it means. It feels inane to touch and challenge my voice as much as I do.

This is not Golden Hour anymore, this is Crater Lake. My voice is wings fastening themselves to flying and the perfect description of the sky and the pithy phrases of my dying father. I know what to do with three fingers of scotch and starting a fire in Winter in the slow death of my home. My dead cat still sits on the white green arm chair and why not be obsessed with myself?

I AM ADDICTED TO GRINDR BECAUSE HOW I AM WRITING IS A BRIEF DEPICTION OF WHAT THE WHIRRING LOOKS LIKE FROM DAY TO DAY TO DAY TO DAY AND THE GENERAL REQUIREMENT OF ME TO MAINTAIN MYSELF WITH THE 55 THINGS THAT DO THEIR WHIRRING IN MY HEAD WHEN ALL IS QUIET. BEING AROUND PEOPLE IS A GIFT AND LORENZ IS DEAD. LORENZ IS DEAD THIS STORY HAS DIED LIKE A BIRD.

I will fasten wings to flying a story to my name. I do not forgive my pimples for existing and I am here and know how to talk about footsteps leaving a place. Thanks magazine for projecting my voice into sorry people now I am bit more whatever I have been being. Conviction is a really good story and pretend I am shooting a gun at credentials. Now that everyone is really listening I am here in a scary way. Okay, now that your toes are twitching, eyes brows raised, mouth dry, I am lying in bed smelling the fuck out of myself and a bit too sweaty and 20 days from remembering. Who is not plagued by whatever the fuck is going on in there? I am lying when I say I do not like it. I feel clever for having been plagued because cleverness is still what is somehow most valuable. Here is a suggestion: write a poem with kindness instead of cleverness. Having just written that, I felt a pang of something strange because I write to feel more stable. I do feel like I am writing all for the wrong reasons: not virtuous, not healthy. I give things away too quickly or use too many words, I am garrulous.

I'll grow up in a few years goodbye

[ritualove]

Silas smiled, a light blush forming on his cheeks. He wasn't easily embarassed, but there was something about Shira needing to explain she didn't have any cooties that got to him. "Damn, I was really hoping you did have cooties." He said, trying to play it off while grabbing the cup from her hands. He went to take a sip from the glass, unknowingly putting his lips on the same edge she had, or did he do it knowingly? The strength of the alcohol hit him, but he was able not to react, he had been drinking drinks far too strong for far too long that he's able to keep a straight face. "Oh yeah, that is really strong." He took another, smaller, sip. "Pretty good gin though." He talked about it like he had any type of authority on what's good gin or not. He held the glass back out to Shira, seeing if she wanted it back.

Silas didn't enjoy talking about his past, mainly because he didn't enjoy his past, but he absolutely hated complaining about it. "My childhood wasn't really bad per se, it was definitely better than most." He said, dismissively. Unlike some of the people he knows from the circles he frequented in New York, he understood his privilege, and understood that writing was not a physically strenuous job that gave him a lot of benefits. "I just... I don't know... I just like the life I have now." He was uncharacteristicly ineloquent, looking to the ground. He paused for a second, before looking back to Shira, "enough about me though, how did Portland treat you? Have you still got that 'Portland pride.'" He asked her, repeating her line of questioning.

While Shira talked about Cardinal Hill, looking out the window, Silas took a chance to actually look at her closer. She appeared to have a kind of earnesty that Silas is not used to, like she was a real person with real emotions. He wondered what those emotions were, what she was thinking. He usually thought about people like characters in a book, where they fit in the story, what they bring the reader, but for some reason she was different. As she glanced out the window, his attention was brought to her hand brushing her hair. Silas thought about what she does for work, what she does for fun. He thought about what her hand felt like. When she looked back to him, it was obvious that he was looking at her a little too closely.

As Shira moved closer to Silas, he instinctively moved closer to her, listening closely to her voice. "I pretty much forgot about my brother as soon as I walked into the room. I couldn't think of anything I want to do more than entertain little ol' you." He said, matching her hushed tone, looking her in the eye.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." She said, an uncharacteristic giggle bubbling afterwards, making it sound more like a joke than the true statement that it was. Shira watched as his eyes darted from her to the glass and then back. “I don’t think you expect it, Silas,” getting used to the way his name felt in her mouth “but I’m offering. I don’t have cooties or anything.” She couldn’t help but tease, playful smirk on her lips as she continued to hold out the cup for him in case he would take her up on it. If she was being honest with herself, she probably didn't need to drink the whole thing anyways, considering her accidental heavy handed pour.

Shira started to lean back against the sill and her expression softened as she caught onto the shift of his smile and his mood."Yes, sometimes. It has it's moments, doesn't it?" Or better yet said, had it's moments. Shira paused and looked at him, searching his eyes for a moment, thinking of the right thing to say. "I get it though, home can be a tricky thing to think of or navigate when your rootings are less than stellar, so to speak." It was meant to be comforting and a way to end the conversation if that's what he wanted. She couldn't help but catch onto the way he had looked at her and she wondered for a moment if it was intentional. When she used to work at various club's it was always easy for her to tell when people were flirting with her, because well of course they were, but when people flirted with her in 'real life', that was a completely different story. Her head cocked to the side, amused glint in her eyes as she took a pause too. Her mind fevered with overthinking. "I like it here too. It's got this kind of vibe that's ... definitely, something. It feels alive here, you know? Like you can really breathe." Shira glanced out the window for a moment, her fingers coming once again to nervously tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she said, "I concur, the trees are very lovely. And the people. At least the one's I've met so far." She mirrored his prior glance, her smile turning wry.

Shira leaned in towards him so he could hear her better as her voice grew softer now "I hope I'm not keeping you from finding your brother, don't feel obligated to stay and entertain little ol' me."

[gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream]

Ich habe 8.945 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

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Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:

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Ich habe 1.578 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt

#<3 – 567 Einträge

#dnd – 295 Einträge

#neon glow – 271 Einträge

#toh – 138 Einträge

#sanders sides – 111 Einträge

#cardinal sins – 90 Einträge

#critical role – 82 Einträge

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#for future reference – 49 Einträge

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Longest Tag: 112 characters

#and idk what happened exactly but i think the gabriel of the group was like and then when we ate it he was like

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

#5

idk if there's even a remote point of talking to u about my ocs babe, all you do is listen to me talking about my ocs.

Anyway let's talk about Caspian. I know u wanna know about Caspian.

Caspian is a support character to the protagonist of Oak, Ash and Thorn.

He was under Fairweather's care for a while, making him another Siren who is also a pirate (at least part time), as he travelled with her for many, many years.

He is technically a merman, half human and half siren, and has lived peacefully among both humans and Sirens in his 330-year-life span.

Like Fair, he wears a mask to conceal his scales when amongst humans. He has the power of compulsion and weather manipulation, as well as a power completely unique to him - the ability to raise the dead that had drowned at sea. This was a gift to him from the forest after he took over his place as a cardinal sin.

*giggles* I Do wanna know about Caspian!! :D

He sounds absolutely fabulous and intriguing (and I don't know if you ever confirmed my theory, but 👀👀👀)

Also the ability to raise the dead, holy fuck, please say more :0

0 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 25. Oktober 2022

#4

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

For a character of your choice: are there any extremely formative experiences that happened before the book and/or aren't mentioned in the book? If so, what is it, and what effect did it have on them?

Y'know, it took me a while of thinking, bc I'm not currently writing anything, but I am a DM, and as such I always have a story to tell

So! I will go ahead and say if you're part of the Froysil campaign, maybe don't read the next part XD

But there is a character that I'm very excited about introducing! It's name is Moirah and when it was very young it was "sacrificed" to keep an ancient being from wreaking havoc on the world. In reality it made a deal with the being, so they now share one body (the being grants Moirah powers and in turn they get to see the world through its eyes)

0 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 29. Juli 2022

#3

Oh yeah!! I write sometimes and I’ve picked up doodling again too! I really enjoy crafts and photography too but am sadly terrible at both :P

Well then I'll happily invite you to join Three Too Many Fics, originally only a writing server we now welcome all art forms!! We're always happy to have someone new join, and our mods work hard to put out fun prompts regularly :D

0 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 5. Juli 2022

#2

hi!! Do you have any discord servers you would recommend? I’m new to social media as a whole (I’ve lurked on tumblr for ages though) and I’ve been meaning to get more active socially… You seem to be very kind and welcoming so I thought maybe you’d have recommendations? Ty in advance

Hi :0

Honestly I'm not in a lot myself, mostly just friend servers, but if you're interested in writing or art (or crafts, photography, music, cosplay etc) I got a server or two that you might be interested in :0

3 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 5. Juli 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

You now require being surrounded by plants to live. What plants do you choose?

Jokes on you, I already require that XD

Uhm, succulents for sure, I've got a bunch of babies that I'm trying to rise, then my beloved Diva and, hmmmmm,,, oh yeah, my rubber tree, of course! Maybe some edible ones for cooking?

Oh and definitely chamomile, yarrow, lavender, plantain, ground ivy and chickweed!! Oh and blueweed(/chicory), of course!!

And then a fruit tree or two to round it out, and a field of pumpkins :D

(This is of course assuming I have a proper garden too)

Edit: I forgot about dandelions and daisies and violets and lesser celandine and I'm sure many many more, they just bring me a lot of joy XD

4 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 27. April 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

[justadram]

How do you think a Christine de Pizan type figure would’ve been treated in westros?

Short answer is in my opinion a Christine de Pizan couldn't exist in Westeros, because I don't think the conditions are in place to create her.

Christine lives in the "medieval world" but the Renaissance is already underway in Italy at the time of her birth. She's educated by a scholarly father, which is what gives her the ability to become a professional writer, despite being a woman. Moreover, there exists an audience for her writing, which is also due to changing conditions in Europe. Widowed, she supported her family through her writing, sponsored by wealthy patrons, who were willing to buy her writing. Patronage was changing, and court members could read! and wanted to buy books! they had little libraries of their own! This is a real shift and relates to changing literacy rates and book binding.

I've talked about the high levels of literacy among the nobility in Westeros and how some of them are eager readers. But there is also rather bizarre apparent lack of non-noble literate people there, which would likely preclude Christine's education, even if there are those like Tyrion and Sam to read for pleasure. In high medieval Europe, the education of women, both noble and merchant class, really improved as fathers of wealth began to hire tutors for their sons and sometimes daughters too with the rise of universities and monastic and cathedral schools. By the late medieval era, boys and girls both are attending school in urban Italy, and that will only expand as literacy and the advent of the printing press comes about. Whereas, we don't seem to have an intellectual renaissance afoot in Westeros.

Also, the shows and GRRM seem pretty wedded to the idea that things were just like that in the medieval era, when it came to women. That's their supposed inspiration for the almost relentless violence against women, which is depicted, mostly without recourse. Most of world history post-Neolithic Revolution, is that of patriarchal societies--fact. However, it is not the case that women's existence in medieval Europe can be boiled down to accepted, expected violence. How does a woman ever come to a place of respect or prominence in a society built upon the kind of culture of constant violence against them we find in Westeros? I don't think they do. It's important to understand that the existence of queens or ladies doesn't mean equality for women or even any great respect for them in a feudal society, where vows bind you.

Now, Christine was a laywoman. However, before Christine ever rose to prominence, there was already a tradition in medieval Europe of influential, literate, educated women. Nuns! Convents actually offered women an opportunity for education, advancement, and authority well beyond what they could expect to exert as a wife and mother. Abbesses wielded great authority within their communities and without and could have access to great wealth.

St. Catherine of Siena is an example of how a religious woman could wield great influence even within the patriarchal hierarchy of the Catholic Church. Without her influence, the Avignon Papacy wouldn't have come to an end. Catherine was a female member of the Dominican Order, who rather adamantly preached for the pope to return to Rome. And he did. The most powerful man in Christendom did what a woman urged him to do! Then, as the Western Schism developed, she acted as a diplomat, penning letters to the princes of Europe and cardinals, urging them to support Pope Urban VI. And people took her seriously! And when she died calls for her to be canonized were loud.

Hildegard of Bingen is another example, an educated abbess, who authored a great deal, including medical text, and who predated Christine by hundreds of years. All of this is to say, Christine isn't an anomaly by any means, even if she's the first professional female author in Europe.

We've got the septas and the silent sisters in Westeros, and there are motherhouses, which we know precious little about. And while I'd like to say the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world sort of thing, historically, governesses occupied a rather precarious, vulnerable position in European households, easily impoverished and victims of the predation of men in the homes in which they were employed. Maybe septas are safer due to their religious background, but there isn't really any evidence that they exercise any great influence beyond their noble "classrooms" schooling the girls on the appropriate arts and learning.

Septas and septons exist on the council of the Most Devout, of course. There is that! But there's no evidence that this equality in the Faith extends to Westeros' society at large. Or that these women were producing any of the "histories" or songs or romances that nobles consume for entertainment or edification.

For all of these reasons, unfortunately, it's not just that I think Christine wouldn't be embraced in Westeros--I don't think she'd ever come to be there.

[sepublic]

The Golden Guard: Eda’s Dark Parallel?

           Does anyone else think that the Golden Guard actually reminds Lilith a LOT of Eda, specifically Eda as a kid, during the good old days before she got cursed?

           Think about it… They’re both sassy, hot-headed teen prodigies with an owl motif and yellow attire. And the way Lilith angrily talks about the Golden Guard, it seems her feelings of resentment mirror how she felt towards Eda back when they were kids? Lilith, who was by-the-book and traditional, worked so hard… And then there’s this younger person with an Owl motif who just swoops in out of nowhere and through talent, completely outclasses her!

           If you go with the idea that Lilith wanted Gwendolyn’s approval and had to compete with Eda over that… Then for all we know, maybe Lilith lowkey wanted Belos’ approval as well, but felt like she was being cheated out of that with the Golden Guard, who kept stealing the spotlight from her! 

          Like she was afraid he’d take her spot as head of the Emperor’s Coven, the way Lilith feared that Eda would win the initiation duel back when they were kids… And lo and behold, the Golden Guard DID take that! Granted Lilith left an obvious vacancy from her own betrayal of Belos so of course he took that spot, but still; It’s quite a sore spot.

           In some ways, perhaps Lilith is aware of this, deep-down or not; She might see the Golden Guard as just Young Eda, but without any of the emotional connection, nor any redeeming qualities; If he does have them, again, it’s not like Lilith knows the Golden Guard well enough to know these traits, much less take them into account.

           LOTS of text and speculation and analyses below!!!

           The Golden Guard is even sixteen years old… Which, is very likely EDA’s age, back when her and Lilith competed for the Emperor’s Coven! That can take on a whole new, dark meaning for her… 

          Perhaps Lilith is low-key disturbed by the Golden Guard’s existence, because he reminds her too much of Young Eda? Eda, before she was cursed- So it’s like the memory of her is coming back to haunt Lilith, in the form of someone who has no concern for Lilith whatsoever to hold him back, unlike the actual Eda.

           And in a way, it’s a horrible reminder that some things never change, that some things stay the same and Lilith can’t get past them, she can’t outgrow it like she thought she did; Because even now, even as head of the Emperor’s Coven, there’s still a 16-year-old prodigy with an owl motif and yellow attire, who is sassy and playful and mischievous, who threatens to upstage Lilith’s self-esteem and sense of power. Somebody Lilith is afraid of; Thirty years later, and she STILL has to deal with this kind of person in her life, but it’s worse because she’s actually older and should be better, yet somehow isn’t…

           Who knows? Maybe Lilith even recognized the similarities to Eda, enough to actually be sympathetic to the Golden Guard at first? Perhaps she, on some level, saw the Golden Guard as a way to vicariously redo her past with Eda, but without the mistakes… Maybe she tried to be nice to the Golden Guard, but then he quickly turned out to be a snob, he’s not REALLY Eda; So Lilith settled on never cursing him like she did Eda, but then otherwise decided that she didn’t owe him any love and could just quietly loathe his guts.

          Lilith failed Eda in part because she was an older sister who abandoned her in a time of need, but there’s not really that expectation with the Golden Guard, so why bother? She’s got enough on her plate as is, and an ACTUAL Eda to worry about, to look after, to be concerned for and patch things up with.

           I’ve even seen people make the very good point that in a lot of ways… The Golden Guard is like a Dark Eda? In the sense that, he’s Eda, had she joined the Emperor’s Coven as a kid. He’s a look at Young Eda, if she didn’t reject the Coven System, and joined Belos- Reveling in her own talent and power as granting her ‘special treatment’ over the rest, so any downsides to the coven system weren’t HER problem anyway!

           Again, this adds another layer to the Golden Guard being very reminiscent of Young Eda, and even current Eda as well… Except, he never lost his magic and was never cursed. Maybe that’s another thing he unknowingly haunts Lilith over; He’s lowkey a reminder of what Eda could’ve been, had Lilith not been selfish and a coward, or had she communicated better. Yet at the same time, he’s frustrating- Because the Golden Guard is like the worst parts of Eda, the parts that Lilith hated and made her resentful…

           And this constant reminder of the past, of her own issues with Eda back then that culminated in the curse- It could’ve made it a LOT harder for Lilith to really resolve things with Eda, because this kid keeps reminding her why she was so angry, and it’s impossible for her to move on because the Golden Guard isn’t some distant memory, but an actual person who continues to threaten her, the way Eda had…

          And of course, the Golden Guard reminds Lilith of the Eda she lost; The happy, carefree Eda who wasn’t cursed, the Eda she could’ve had in a sense. The Eda that Lilith in some ways wanted, yet is forced to confront and acknowledge is a very obnoxious and terrible person that makes her unhappy…

          And this kind of rude reminder that the Eda that Lilith wanted would’ve continued to make her miserable, if not moreso, is not something she appreciates shattering her dreams and low-key denial, of a world where things had just been a little different.

          The person you’re trying to get, maybe get BACK, wasn’t so great after all- So you just have to move on, and be glad for the Eda who IS happier with her life and more mature, despite being older and more cursed. You gotta move past your guilt Lilith, and realize that Eda is in a better place- Not that she ever needed the curse, but she doesn’t quite need saving from the parts of her life she actually chose for herself, in part to be kind to Lilith no less! Because I bet Lilith believes that deep down, she didn’t deserve Eda’s kindness, so she wishes to reverse that compassionate decision of Eda’s that only resulted in Eda suffering because of how terrible Lily secretly is.

           But, back to the subject; There’s more similarities to Eda and the Golden Guard, especially at the end of Separate Tides; How he makes an ominous warning before casually, happily yelling “BYYEEEE!!!”, just like Eda when she warns Luz about trying to have a Moonlight Conjuring in Hooty’s Moving Hassle, before heading off to the Night Market. His widow’s peak even bears a decent resemblance to Eda’s, doesn’t it? Which…

           Combined with all of the talk about bird motifs being a Clawthorne thing, it DOES raise many questions about the Golden Guard’s potential connection to Eda. Is he some long-lost son? A third child that Gwendolyn had later in life, because witch biology might allow them to do that? Some homunculus, crafted from bits of DNA from Eda, and maybe even Belos? Belos does seem weirdly fond and trusting of him, the two are placed together in the Season 2 outro when nobody else, not even Kikimora, is there; And of course, the Golden Guard wields a staff, red magic, and fleshy creations, VERY similar to Belos…

           I can’t say for sure- But the idea of the Golden Guard as an alternate Eda is fascinating. An Eda who became completely arrogant, and didn’t stop to care about others; Her cockiness and mischief becoming cruel and obnoxious, essentially the worst parts of Eda, down the path she’d always dreaded. A look into another life, a different choice in such a pivotal part of her past… Personally, I LOVE this kind of dark parallel of a character, so I’m hoping these similarities are commented upon in-universe, assuming they’re not outright literal!

           In a way, the Golden Guard could haunt Eda, because he reminds her of herself… Of her carefree youth, but what she could’ve had… But also, the terrible things she’d done. And obviously Eda despises the coven system too much to really change her mind, and it’s safe to say that the Golden Guard is not at all what she wanted to ever become… But still, it’s a neat bit of character writing and parallelism. If Belos is like a Dark Luz, what Luz could’ve been had she not grown… And the same could apply between King and Kikimora;

           Then who knows? The Golden Guard could be a Dark Eda, who got by talent and continued to take things for granted. An Eda who swore loyalty to Belos and was embraced by the emperor for her skill and ability. Jovial and cheery, but without any of the actual compassion that makes this genuine with Eda. An immature brat who never grew up (granted he’s only sixteen and hasn’t gotten the chance), unlike Eda. And if the Golden Guard is an alternate Eda;

           It’s fascinating how his roles are reversed with his alternate Luz… The Eda parallel is younger than the Luz parallel, learning from them, and taking after their motifs as well! But I guess it’s not all too surprising, with how Eda and Luz both learn from one another, though I suspect Belos and the Golden Guard aren’t as mutual, but who knows? 

          It does make you wonder about Kikimora and King as potential mediators between these duos, whose placement remains consistent… How does Kikimora, the King parallel, interact with her Luz and Eda? Did she become close friends with HER Luz, while, as Dana’s art suggests, she seems somewhat irritated by and resentful of her own Eda? So it’s like Eda and King never grew to be friends and conquer differences… As well as if King never grew to respect Luz and saw her as just a “f*cking nerd”?

           With how Luz is taking after Eda, and possibly getting a Cardinal palisman to complete the Clawthorne motif as a new member of the family… Who knows? The Golden Guard could be an intriguing character for her to bounce off of narratively, maybe as someone Luz might have, in another universe, learned to look up to and admire? How well Luz’s relationship be with the Golden Guard, if they are a Dark Eda? And how can this indirectly show us about how Luz and Young Eda would’ve interacted, what Young Eda was like, what Lilith went through as a kid…

           And, for all we know- The Golden Guard’s owl motif doesn’t hint at a pre-existing connection to the Clawthornes, but rather a future one… Maybe he’ll end up being adopted by Eda, the way Luz was? I’d love to see the Golden Guard become an evil older sibling who’s protective of Luz… 

          I ADORE that trope to death; Evil older brother with bright, younger sister, whom he cares about, and the sister cares for him too, even if it’s complicated because the sister believes in the brother to be better, while the brother doesn’t want to be better, or is at least reluctant about having to change…

           I’d love to see another Hugo and Kipo dynamic, and actually… If the Golden Guard parallels Eda, then who’s his Lilith? Could it be Luz herself? I’ve talked before the similarities between Luz and Lilith, as kids who were bullied and struggled with a lack of talent, but made up for it with hard work and ingenuity; They’ll give you a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, but then happily leap at the opportunity if they think someone is improving.

           And, as Separate Tides has also shown us; They both grapple with guilt over making Eda suffer, unintentionally to varying degrees. Luz and Lilith both learn that they’re not a burden and that it’s okay to ask for help, and come to terms with their guilt with Eda… If Belos and the Golden Guard are Luz and Eda reversed, then could Luz and the Golden Guard also be Lilith and Luz, reversed?

          With the Eda parallel being the older sibling in this scenario… An alternate timeline where Eda and Lilith were the same people, but switched places in birth, and it was EDA who ended up being the cruel and toxic sibling who left the younger feeling demeaned and worthless. I imagine if that were the case, the Golden Guard’s toxicity would occur largely in the beginning, as he acts adversarial to Luz and mocks her, taunts her over Eda’s loss of magic, and her own glyphs no doubt; The Golden Guard doesn’t seem to acknowledge glyphs as a valid form of magic himself.

           But then, if he were to get a redemption, the Golden Guard’s tune might change as he matures and learns to treat Luz more kindly… In a way mimicking how Eda really grew to care for Luz, but also the way Eda has begun to reconnect with Lilith, except with the Golden Guard as the one with the baggage and guilt.

           And, a redemption might not be too implausible, because… He is literally only sixteen, the same age as Emira and Edric, and likely the same age as Eda when SHE was cursed. Younger than Lilith, when she made the worst mistake of her life, because she didn’t understand the coven system for what it truly was –and who could blame her?- and was grappling with a likely terrible mother in Gwendolyn… The Golden Guard is literally a minor, and possibly an overworked teen prodigy.

           After all, the first glimpse of his personality Dana gave us, way back in 2020, was of the Golden Guard admitting that he was tired; And despite his usually cheery personality, all of our glimpses at his face behind the mask (symbolism!) have had him look likely serious and glum… But then again, we don’t see the lower half of his face, so who knows? 

          Perhaps the Golden Guard is abused and overworked by Belos, kind of like Amity with her parents… The Golden Guard is a child dealing with a very toxic influence, and a huge burden of responsibility no less. And with all the potential connections to Belos as maybe even a literal father, or at least a parental figure, it’s not hard to see why the Golden Guard would turn out so messed up. And the Golden Guard being ‘tired’ could be a connection to how Eda is left exhausted from her curse, too.

           So, who knows? Because of his age, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect, or at least hope, for a redemption for this kiddo. But a recent sister show to The Owl House has taught me anything, kids aren’t free from death, and Infinity Train made it clear that you can humanize and sympathize and mourn someone who deserved better, yet ultimately dug their grave and was condemned to a sudden death because of that; All because they didn’t know any better, and really couldn’t have.

           And on another note- Maybe the Golden Guard has owl motifs like Eda… Because in a lot of ways, he actually admires her? He admires the Owl Lady, or at least the certain ‘past’ version that others such as Lilith may have brought up… Maybe the Golden Guard seeks to supplant Eda the Owl Lady as The Most Powerful Witch in the Boiling Isles. Maybe he sees himself as Eda, but better, and this rebellious, hot-headed kid feels the need to prove himself by defeating someone he sees himself in.

           Maybe the Golden Guard is like Lilith, as someone who wishes Eda could’ve joined the coven system, and he’s disappointed in how all her talent was ‘wasted’ on other things. Maybe the Golden Guard was disappointed in Eda losing her magic, losing further respect for his ‘problematic idol’, and/or he felt some validation and vindication in being a successor to Eda. 

          Does he hold some grudge? Did the Owl Lady’s power excite him, give the Golden Guard a goal to recklessly challenge and defeat, so he can experience the thrill of victory and add to this feeling of invincibility that teenagers, especially the talented ones, have?

           Eda as a kid, and even now, has always been fond of spiting what others say she can’t do, or setting new precedents and accomplishments to prove herself. Maybe the Golden Guard is like that, and hopes to take on the onus of outdoing the Owl Lady; Perhaps he admires Eda, and wishes she could’ve joined a coven like him. As an outside admirer, he mourns Eda’s ‘potential’ in a way similar to Lilith, but different; Because he’s a kid who looks up to her, and not an older sibling that has an actual childhood with Eda. If so, then that’s another dark parallel to Luz;

           After all, Luz got frustrated by Eda in Adventures in the Elements. So maybe the Golden Guard is someone who grew resentful of Eda for not living up to the legend he hoped, the image he wanted, sort of like Lilith! I’ll go out on a limb and even suggest him as a past apprentice, who unlike Luz, never learned to be patient and appreciate Eda’s teachings, so he turned to the coven system and Belos for easy gratification. He didn’t want to be challenged… And in that way, the Golden Guard could parallel my speculation on Belos, as also a Dark Luz.

          So of course, it makes sense that Belos would recognize this same dilemma in the Golden Guard, and perhaps be sympathetic and take him under his wing for it. Eda might not recognize the Golden Guard because he’s changed a bit himself, is hiding his own identity –Lilith doesn’t seem to know much about the witch beneath the mask either, just the public image and façade- and Eda’s been having memory issues. Maybe this will add to the Golden Guard’s resentment, who knows? He really might just be a rebellious teen who Eda failed, unlike with Luz… And that could add to more envy, perhaps.

           At the very least; Dana’s fondness for the Golden Guard takes on a whole new meaning… What with how Eda is pretty much one of, if not THE most favorite character of hers, the one who really jumpstarted this entire show and world to begin with… Having this other character she likes essentially be a canon AU version of that beloved creation, would certainly make a lot of sense! Dana likes Eda, she likes to show us about Young Eda; So a character who IS Young Eda, just on a different path, would likely appeal to her. We’ll see…

           I think it’s worth noting that in her art of the Golden Guard, it depicts him as essentially a normal, lazy teenager who’s asking someone else to do his chore for him, while he lounges around to do something else. I could see a young Eda as occasionally fulfilling that role and asking her older sister Lily for a favor- And maybe this could allude to the Golden Guard being frequently exhausted from being overworked himself, hence “I’m tired” and wanting to extend his breaks as much as possible. We’ll just have to wait and see…

[andnofcksweregiven]

Universal Rule

jeff wittek x reader

warnings: fluff , smut (i’m sorry if it isn’t super great first time writing it 😅)

synopsis: this anons request basically

There’s a universal rule that females and males can’t simply be friends. Where it came from- no one seems to know however, as much as we try and deny it, the realization that there’s harbored feelings hidden deep within you reels its ugly head around.

Jeff Wittek, a man who some may describe to be as gorgeous as a God but as charming as a devil. His natural allure but timidness factor to the ever growing attention of many women, ones he tries to politely reject with a signature giggle- a sign that, once again, he’ll be going home alone.

Except, he wasn’t truly alone as everyone believed. Jeff had a blossoming friendship with a neighbor, from the second he helped her with the last box on moving in day, to the next second everything fell through the bottom and all over his feet- a plethora of clothing ranging from heavy jeans to delicate red panties. For Jeff, it was like a nightmare, slight pink hue dusting his cheeks, that was until a fit of giggles erupted from his new neighbor's lips.

From that day on, Jeff and Y/N were inseparable. In their world, they were friends, ones without any ulterior motives in their hearts or heads, although- to someone looking in, Jeff and Y/N were a ticking time bomb. Either the final chapter to the romance part of their individual books, or the greatest heartbreak and tragedy since Romeo and Juliet. 

Y/N was the first to realize and accept the fact that to her, Jeff was it. It tiptoed into her heart like a burglar, one who was preparing to wreak havoc on the one thing that no one had been able to possess in almost forever. It hit one evening, after Jeff was going on a rant about how there’s so much he has to do, and that even though he knows he’s working himself to the bone, he needs to make sure he’s growing. The vulnerability in his voice, the softness in his eyes melted Y/N- just like it had done to thousands of women before her. 

For Jeff, it happened when Y/N had dragged him on a 2 am walk with Nerf after finding him slumped over his computer recording the same voice over for nearly 20 minutes- the food she had bought going cold besides him. Nerf was hopping up her ankles as they walked, an almost puppy like behavior, barking happily up at her. Jeff had stepped back to capture the moment as Y/N carried on going further- he had slowly lowered his phone as he gazed longingly at a girl who you could compare to Aphrodite.

The universe runs on minutes, hours, days, months and so on. A singular second could be a turbulent moment in ones life. Jeff and Y/N had so many stored seconds from meeting, to the realization that your friend holds more power over your existence then another soul. Those seconds, as heavy as they felt, had fleeted away like distance memories to reminisce on later. Nonetheless, the universe runs on seconds.

Jeff had been running late for a usual movie/ catch up night with Y/N, which led to her deciding to take a brisk shower to calm her ongoing nerves. To her dismay, her mind must have slipped up the tiny detail of letting Jeff know she was in the shower, let alone the fact that he had a spare key to her apartment.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know I’m late but there was about 20 ninjas I had to fight off in the hallway an’ then a meteor was gunna come an’ hit-” Jeff voice slowly went quieter as he spun away from the front door, only to be met with an empty living room. “Huh, she must be running late as well” he thought.”fuuuuuck I need a piss, she wouldn’t care if I used her toilet”

He walked idly towards the bathroom, unaware to his surroundings as the only thought he was having was how much he was bursting. It wasn’t until a ear piercing shriek echoed off the walls as a naked Y/N stood stunned in the middle of the bathroom.

“Y/N!? HOLY FUCK I- I’M SO SORRY I-” spinning on his heel and running out the room as Y/N finally wrapped her towel securely round her.

“JEFF WHAT THE HELL?” she screamed at him once entering the living room, a pink faced Jeff sitting on the arm rest of her couch head in hands, from the sheer mortifying fact he had managed to see her whole bare silhouette.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I- I really needed the toilet...” a whisper that would’ve been hard to catch if the environment hadn’t been so silent. 

“Oh, well go on then I’m done anyways” retreating back into her room to put some article of clothing and a shred of dignity that might have been left in her. Whilst Jeff hurried back into the steamed up room, the blush growing more prominent by every thought of that singular second.

It carried on through out the night, the tension thick in the air, as Jeff kept replaying the moment- he felt like he was being engulfed by the steam from how hot he was starting to feel. The beads of water cascading down your heaving chest, your pillowy lips slightly parted from shock as your sparkling eyes stared directly at him. The more he fantasized, the tighter his shorts got- he was trying his best not to let his mind wonder but having you pressed against his right side, your delicate hands grazing his upper left arm- sending electricity through out his veins- it was leaving him dissatisfied. 

“Y/N?” his voiced wavered as he gazed downwards at the h/c haired girl,

“Yeah Jeff?”

“Can you look at me for a sec”

A slight giggle escaped your mouth, as you raised your head to stare longingly into his eyes. “Ok what do you want because this is a really good sce-”

A second.  

A second was all it took before your lips collided into a passionate yet sensual kiss. A kiss that had left you breathless and almost bare once he pulled away. The empty space between your lips seeming never ending, suddenly you grasped at the collar of his shirt as you fell back on the couch, Jeff following as he slotted himself between your parting legs. His lips trailed towards your jaw and down your neck- sucking and biting, leaving something more then just a memory behind.

Hot breathes followed by sharp movements of clothes being ripped off, after months of hesitation and refusal of the cardinal need to be with one another. 

Jeff's lips wrapped around the stiff peak of your right tit as his slightly rough textured hand, massaged the other one. To him, it felt like silk, soft and welcoming. He didn’t think he could feel better until he finally got a taste of you, a broad stripe up your slit, making you gasp and slightly arch your back off the couch as his forearm held your hips down. As he pulled his head back, the loss of contact had you whining until suddenly Jeff delved his head back in, sucking on your clit that a guttural moan escaped your bruised lips. Your eyes rolled back as you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen as Jeff continued his attack in between your legs.

“Jeff I’m gunna, JEFF!” 

You came all over his tongue as he carried on lapping away, the taste of you making his mind hazy. Finally, he pulled himself up towards your face, your eyes hooded as you tried to catch your breath.

He placed a light kiss to the top of your head has he stroked your hair backwards, whispering and “are you ok?” to your hairline.

He was going to ask if you wanted to go on before he felt your hand wrap itself around his dick, slowly moving your hand up and down as you placed the tip against your entrance. Looking into your eyes for any shred of hesitance, but being instead met with lust. He kept the eye contact as he pushed himself further inside, a sharp intake of breathe being held inside your lungs as your walls enveloped around him. He didn’t start moving until you let the breathe out, followed by a slight nod.

He built up his speed start slow and hard before hammering into you, the tip of his dick hitting the spot you needed him too. Both of your moans harmonizing as the air carried them in the room, along with skin slapping. Jeff was insatiable. To him, you were like a new vice, one that he intends on never dropping. The constrictions of your walls felt like heaven as you gripped onto his dick, your groans and breaths becoming shallow and shaky as you neared your peak. A final hip shattering thrust, made you coat Jeff’s dick as he slowed down, nearing his own finish as his breathing became ragged until, at last, he pulled out and released on your stomach.

He collapsed beside you as your labored breathing filled the silence- the movie long finished. 

“Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that” you half heartedly chuckled, as you cuddled back into Jeff’s side, head resting on his chest.

Your head bounced as Jeff’s laugh echoed in his chest. “If I’m being honest y/n/n, neither did I”

“So what now Jeff? Can’t exactly pretend this didn’t happen” resting your chin on his chest, waiting to see his deep brown eyes that turned golden in the Sun light.

“Lets not then” he responded nonchalantly as your eyebrows crumpled together, his gaze averting away from the barren ceiling to yours, a smile gracing his lips as a deep emotion of love clouded his eyes “This is a second I never want to forget”

[niseamstories]

10 Lessons on Realistic Worldbuilding and Mapmaking I Learned Working With a Professional Cartographer and Geodesist

Hi, fellow writers and worldbuilders,

It’s been over a year since my post on realistic swordfighting, and I figured it’s time for another one. I’m guessing the topic is a little less “sexy”, but I’d find this useful as a writer, so here goes: 10 things I learned about realistic worldbuilding and mapmaking while writing my novel.

I’ve always been a sucker for pretty maps, so when I started on my novel, I hired an artist quite early to create a map for me. It was beautiful, but a few things always bothered me, even though I couldn’t put a finger on it. A year later, I met an old friend of mine, who currently does his Ph.D. in cartography and geodesy, the science of measuring the earth. When the conversation shifted to the novel, I showed him the map and asked for his opinion, and he (respectfully) pointed out that it has an awful lot of issues from a realism perspective.

First off, I’m aware that fiction is fiction, and it’s not always about realism; there are plenty of beautiful maps out there (and my old one was one of them) that are a bit fantastical and unrealistic, and that’s all right. Still, considering the lengths I went to ensure realism for other aspects of my worldbuilding, it felt weird to me to simply ignore these discrepancies. With a heavy heart, I scrapped the old map and started over, this time working in tandem with a professional artist, my cartographer friend, and a linguist. Six months later, I’m not only very happy with the new map, but I also learned a lot of things about geography and coherent worldbuilding, which made my universe a lot more realistic.

1)  Realism Has an Effect: While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with creating an unrealistic world, realism does affect the plausibility of a world. Even if the vast majority of us probably know little about geography, our brains subconsciously notice discrepancies; we simply get this sense that something isn’t quite right, even if we don’t notice or can’t put our finger on it. In other words, if, for some miraculous reason, an evergreen forest borders on a desert in your novel, it will probably help immersion if you at least explain why this is, no matter how simple.

2)  Climate Zones: According to my friend, a cardinal sin in fantasy maps are nonsensical climate zones. A single continent contains hot deserts, forests, and glaciers, and you can get through it all in a single day. This is particularly noticeable in video games, where this is often done to offer visual variety (Enderal, the game I wrote, is very guilty of this). If you aim for realism, run your worldbuilding by someone with a basic grasp of geography and geology, or at least try to match it to real-life examples.

3)  Avoid Island Continent Worlds: Another issue that is quite common in fictional worlds is what I would call the “island continents”: a world that is made up of island-like continents surrounded by vast bodies of water. As lovely and romantic as the idea of those distant and secluded worlds may be, it’s deeply unrealistic. Unless your world was shaped by geological forces that differ substantially from Earth’s, it was probably at one point a single landmass that split up into fragmented landmasses separated by waters. Take a look at a proper map of our world: the vast majority of continents could theoretically be reached by foot and relatively manageable sea passages. If it weren’t so, countries such as Australia could have never been colonized – you can’t cross an entire ocean on a raft.

4)  Logical City Placement: My novel is set in a Polynesian-inspired tropical archipelago; in the early drafts of the book and on my first map, Uunili, the nation’s capital, stretched along the entire western coast of the main island. This is absurd. Not only because this city would have been laughably big, but also because building a settlement along an unprotected coastline is the dumbest thing you could do considering it directly exposes it to storms, floods, and, in my case, monsoons. Unless there’s a logical reason to do otherwise, always place your coastal settlements in bays or fjords.

 Naturally, this extends to city placement in general. If you want realism and coherence, don’t place a city in the middle of a godforsaken wasteland or a swamp just because it’s cool. There needs to be a reason. For example, the wasteland city could have started out as a mining town around a vast mineral deposit, and the swamp town might have a trading post along a vital trade route connecting two nations.

 5)  Realistic Settlement Sizes: As I’ve mentioned before, my capital Uunili originally extended across the entire western coast. Considering Uunili is roughly two thirds the size of Hawaii  the old visuals would have made it twice the size of Mexico City. An easy way to avoid this is to draw the map using a scale and stick to it religiously. For my map, we decided to represent cities and townships with symbols alone.

 6)  Realistic Megacities: Uunili has a population of about 450,000 people. For a city in a Middle Ages-inspired era, this is humongous. While this isn’t an issue, per se (at its height, ancient Alexandria had a population of about 300,000), a city of that size creates its own set of challenges: you’ll need a complex sewage system (to minimize disease spreading like wildfire) and strong agriculture in the surrounding areas to keep the population fed. Also, only a small part of such a megacity would be enclosed within fantasy’s ever-so-present colossal city walls; the majority of citizens would probably concentrate in an enormous urban sprawl in the surrounding areas. To give you a pointer, with a population of about 50,000, Cologne was Germany’s biggest metropolis for most of the Middle Ages. I’ll say it again: it’s fine to disregard realism for coolness in this case, but at least taking these things into consideration will not only give your world more texture but might even provide you with some interesting plot points.

 7)  World Origin: This point can be summed up in a single question: why is your world the way it is? If your novel is set in an archipelago like mine is, are the islands of volcanic origin? Did they use to be a single landmass that got flooded with the years? Do the inhabitants of your country know about this? Were there any natural disasters to speak of? Yes, not all of this may be relevant to the story, and the story should take priority over lore, but just like with my previous point, it will make your world more immersive.

 8)  Maps: Think Purpose! Every map in history had a purpose. Before you start on your map, think about what yours might have been. Was it a map people actually used for navigation? If so, clarity should be paramount. This means little to no distracting ornamentation, a legible font, and a strict focus on relevant information. For example, a map used chiefly for military purposes would naturally highlight different information than a trade map. For my novel, we ultimately decided on a “show-off map” drawn for the Blue Island Coalition, a powerful political entity in the archipelago (depending on your world’s technology level, maps were actually scarce and valuable). Also, think about which technique your in-universe cartographer used to draw your in-universe map. Has copperplate engraving already been invented in your fictional universe? If not, your map shouldn’t use that aesthetic.

9)  Maps: Less Is More. If a spot or an area on a map contains no relevant information, it can (and should) stay blank so that the reader’s attention naturally shifts to the critical information. Think of it this way: if your nav system tells you to follow a highway for 500 miles, that’s the information you’ll get, and not “in 100 meters, you’ll drive past a little petrol station on the left, and, oh, did I tell you about that accident that took place here ten years ago?” Traditional maps follow the same principle: if there’s a road leading a two day’s march through a desolate desert, a black line over a blank white ground is entirely sufficient to convey that information.

10) Settlement and Landmark Names: This point will be a bit of a tangent, but it’s still relevant. I worked with a linguist to create a fully functional language for my novel, and one of the things he criticized about my early drafts were the names of my cities. It’s embarrassing when I think about it now, but I really didn’t pay that much attention to how I named my cities; I wanted it to sound good, and that was it. Again: if realism is your goal, that’s a big mistake. Like Point 5, we went back to the drawing board and dove into the archipelago’s history and established naming conventions. In my novel, for example, the islands were inhabited by indigenes called the Makehu before the colonization four hundred years before the events of the story; as it’s usually the case, all settlements and islands had purely descriptive names back then. For example, the main island was called Uni e Li, which translates as “Mighty Hill,” a reference to the vast mountain ranges in the south and north; townships followed the same example (e.g., Tamakaha meaning “Coarse Sands”). When the colonizers arrived, they adopted the Makehu names and adapted them into their own language, changing the accented, long vowels to double vowels: Uni e Li became “Uunili,” Lehō e Āhe became “Lehowai.” Makehu townships kept their names; colonial cities got “English” monikers named after their geographical location, economic significance, or some other original story. Examples of this are Southport, a—you guessed it—port on the southernmost tip of Uunili, or Cale’s Hope, a settlement named after a businessman’s mining venture. It’s all details, and chances are that most readers won’t even pay attention, but I personally found that this added a lot of plausibility and immersion.

I could cover a lot more, but this post is already way too long, so I’ll leave it at that—if there’s enough interest, I’d be happy to make a part two. If not, well, maybe at least a couple of you got something useful out of this. If you’re looking for inspiration/references to show to your illustrator/cartographer, the David Rumsey archive is a treasure trove. Finally, for anyone who doesn’t know and might be interested, my novel is called Dreams of the Dying, and is a blends fantasy, mystery, and psychological horror set in the universe of Enderal, an indie RPG for which I wrote the story. It’s set in a Polynesian-inspired medieval world and has been described as Inception in a fantasy setting by reviewers.

Credit for the map belongs to Dominik Derow, who did the ornamentation, and my friend Fabian Müller, who created the map in QGIS and answered all my questions with divine patience. The linguist’s name is David Müller (no, they’re not related, and, yes, we Germans all have the same last names.)

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #2

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: The time-line of events is altered for story telling purposes, something that will be very obvious if people want me to continue on with the story. I think this is the closest to slow burn I’ve gotten to in my entire fanfic career. Hope y’all can understand because asgyv my brain would rot if I tried to line it up with canon completely.

Read Part 1 here

I have no wand, no socks and I’m wearing a Gryffindors sweater. This could go south terribly fast and I’m hoping for any other cardinal direction. If all else fails I could always throw a punch and run to my bed.For the second time that morning I almost crashed into someone. Seriously an entire hallway but we are still walking on the same side.

Draco stared at me from my face to the sweater, I wish he would notice my bunny slippers too. I also wished he would’ve seen me earlier in my utter Slytherin colors pride.

“Interesting sweater y/l/n” Draco said breaking the silence, scrunching his eyebrows at me. I could feel the Slytherin pride sermon bubbling inside of him.

“Interesting ingredients Malfoy” I answered back. Ingredients to make draught of peace, I’m surprised he had the ingredients, I’m surprised he was nervous and I’m surprised he was going to do it with unkempt hair.

“This didn’t happen and we didn't see each other.” He stiffened, straightening his back the glass containers clinking together.

“Brilliant as always.” I smiled, nodding at him and he doing the same. I’m sure if someone was looking at us right now we looked comical with our overly formal head nods. Starting to walk past each other, both of us going to our destination and trying not to think much about the other on our walk there.

Me, George’s sweater and my bunny slippers were home free, all we had to do is get back to the dorms without bumping into anyone else. But I don't know if it’s my seniority over the kid or perhaps as Snape’s potions assistant I felt responsible or even because I was just worried that made me turn around “Draco.” I called out to him.

He stopped, turning to face me “Y/n.”

Perhaps I should tell him that it’s 7 drops of hellebore not 8, or maybe that it’s supposed to be stirred both counter and clock wise or how it has to simmer for exactly 7 minutes. “If it’s not silver don't drink it.” Was all I could say and by far the best advice I could give him.

“Dully noted.” He said giving me a tight lipped smile, almost forced as if I was forcing him to give me a smile. “Thanks.” he muttered underneath his breath, his tightlipped smile softening at the edges.

The walk back to the dorms was no longer nor shorter than the walk from. Tho I was a bit warmer on both the inside and the outside all thanks to George. Climbing the stairs down to the common room I felt tired and heavy.

I want to sleep.I wish I could sleep but I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I must just wake up to having found out this was all but a fleeting dream. Nothing more but a hot chocolate induced fever dream. 

Slipping off my slippers I walked to the edge of the carpet. Curling my toes I wondered if the shock of the coldness would wake me up, still I had to know. Stepping on the cold floor I didn’t wake up nor did I bolt up in bed.The cold floor lets me know that this was real, I was truly awake. But I don't think one knows the true lengths the mind would go to to make up a dream.

Tiptoeing into my dorm I changed into my clothes for the day, taking extra care to fold George’s sweater in a way that both said ‘I took care of it for you’ and ‘I didn’t spend half an hour overthinking this’. Perhaps I was putting too much pressure on folding techniques but I wasn’t about to be exposed by the way sleeves folded over. Getting my school bag ready I laid everything out on the bed.

“Potions.Herbology.Alchemy” I said touching each textbook, books I’ve carried around a hundred times.But I was afraid my lack of sleep would magically turn my Herbology book into a history of magic and I wouldn’t realize till I was standing in Professor Sprouts class.

I spent all of breakfast looking for George but there was absolutely no sign of him. Every time I thought I spotted his hair from across the dinning hall it was just Ron, twice it was just Ginny and once even an overly toasted plate of hash browns.

My first class was to help Snape. A couple of over brewed potions helped keep me on my toes and for that I was grateful.

Second was alchemy.Where nothing particularly interesting happened and had me periodically sticking my hand in my bag just to double,triple, quadruple check that George’s jumper didn’t grow legs and run away.

Third was Herbology. The class I was waiting for, finally a class with Gryffindors that the Weasley twins were in. Walking a bit too quickly and a bit too excitedly to class I wasn’t the first to get there.I blame it on the ever moving stairs. Professor Sprouts lesson dragged on too long for my liking or maybe it was the fact that I was drilling holes at the back that George’s head that made it all drag on.

“Mind the Mandrakes children.” Professor Sprout said with a wave of her hand leaving us to work. Perhaps it was age that made you think of anyone younger than you as children, but we were all very grown up thank you very much.

Leaning over the table I whispered “Psst George.”. No movement.

“George” I called out a bit louder but again no efforts to look back at me. Blimey perhaps it was just how tall he was that he couldn’t hear me from up there or maybe he was just that hard of hearing.

“Bloody hell Weasley I’m calling you.” I called out again poking him with my wand, surely he wasn't hard of hearing and touch desensitized enough to ignore me. Reaching closer in an attempt to tug at his robes my wand fell to the ground as a shrill screech filled the class.

“What?Sorry can’t hear anything over the Mandrake” George said turning to face me, shrugging his shoulders with the screaming Mandrake in his hands. Surely he wasn’t that much of an idiot to pull a Mandrake out of the pot and surely I wasn’t that much of an idiot to be smitten by the smile he flashed me when he did it.

Finally I ended my day just like it began. In Snape’s classroom, only now it was my class messing up potions not first years.

I wonder if it was something I said. Perhaps the carrot comment was too out of hand or maybe they bumped into Draco or maybe he was a bit crossed because he was in fact cold. Am I thinking too much into it? Did he see my sweater fold and thought it was too messy?

Before I knew it potions was dismissed and I still had George Weasleys sweater in my bag. Getting ready for the game my mind still wandered too far for me to get it back, putting on far too many Slytherin colors for it not to be comical. The Slytherin common room buzzed with anticipation and excitement with people laying one the floor writing banners for friends and people writing friends and crushes quidditch number on banners and faces and arms. 

Sitting on the stands with the game dragging on, I put my cold hands inside the neatly folded sweater that was hidden inside my robes. I wonder if there was a time limit? A countdown? Were we even half way through?Admittedly I don't know a bloody thing about Quidditch just like I didn’t know a bloody thing about another sport. 

Anticipation filled me, wondering when if at all out spirit section was going to mirror that of Gryffindor. Seconds felt eternal and I started to worry that they had been caught in the act. 

Before I could continue tormenting myself the colors around me changed from green and silver to reds and golds. 

Pansy Parkinson that was seated just behind me looked down to her robes horrified they’ve been turned. I almost felt bad for her and nearly reached over to tell her that red was unfortunately her color. The look on her face when her ‘Go Draco’ banner had been hexed to read ‘Go Harry’ was something you expected when someone tells you you’ve just stepped on hippogriff poo. 

Snape looked crossed at the entire Gryffindor house and even Godric Gryffindor  as if he himself planned this all out from beyond the grave to give Salazar Slytherin a last jab. I almost felt guilty looking at the face of my professor, a fleeting guilt but nonetheless guilt. Shouts around me cheering on Slytherin were abruptly replace with cheers for Gryffindor. 

Smiling looking up at the players my eyes darted around for a glimpse of George or even Fred, but they all looked the same in their uniform. 

“Go George!” I yelled over the loud burst of ‘Go Gryffindor’s that surrounded me.

“Go Fred!” I yelled out for good measure, adding it as to not make him feel left out tho I doubt they could hear me over all the commotion. But nevertheless I would know even if they didn’t.

The game came to an end as Harry reached up with the snitch grasped firmly in his hand. Grunts filled the Slytherin area, cursing at their changed clothes, cursed horns and now quidditch loss. I don’t know why everyone is upset this always happens at Gryffindor and Slytherin games, in fact at this point it seemed like a poorly written Quidditch plot. The fact that Harry always caught the snitch, if I didn't know any better I would have to say Harry and the golden snitch had a pact going on.

Around me people didn’t move instead they cursed and jabbed fingers at the Gryffindor tower. They must be really be crossed at Gryffindor to be standing around complaining under snow, or maybe their sheer hatred was keeping them warm. Getting up to leave because I wasn't neither cross nor warm to be standing around.

“Where are you going?” Christy asked me stopping her conversation over the horrid color combination Gryffindor had as if ours were any better.

“I need to go to the restroom. Besides I’m too cold to be standing here complaining.” I said walking away and she promptly went back to her conversation.

Walking down the Slytherin section, I made my way to the Gryffindor Quidditch player section. Somewhere I was highly banned from being in because I was neither a Gryffindor nor a quidditch player.

“I nearly fell off my broom hearing Slytherin chant for us.” Someone who I assumed was Harry said between laughter. A smile spread on my face thrilled I did in fact contribute to a great Weasley prank.

“Having them cheer for us was bloody brilliant! That had to be your best one yet!” Ron beamed at his brothers. Brilliant I got a stamp of approval not only from Harry Potter but from the small Weasley as well.

“Yea an awfully brilliant addition.” I said stepping into view.

The room felt silent and for I moment I wondered for what reason.They’ve just won shouldn't they be happy? So why do they have such long faces. Forgetting and simultaneously remembering that I in fact was that very reason, the walking Slytherin banner for the second time that day leaving people uncomfortable. Even without the silver and green perhaps something about me just reeked of Slytherin.

“You shouldn’t be in here Slytherin.” Ron said standing up to face me.The words held so much anger my mind wondered to see if I had ever caused any misfortune to the younger Weasley.

“I-I-I” My brain forgot all words or perhaps it had forgotten the ability to form any excuses. I didn’t expect a warm welcome but definitely not this much hostility.

“Going to tell Snape on us?” Harry said quirking his eyebrow at me, great I had the look of not only a Slytherin but a snitch as well. Perhaps it was the hair.

“Oi hold on that’s no way to talk to the lady of the hour.” George called out stepping from putting away his broom and jogging to stand next to me. A arm rested around my shoulder, I wonder how much of my red face I could blame on the snow.

Fred made his way to my other side, placing his hand on top of my head. “While it pains me to admit. Y/n was the one that came up with the horn bit.” He said ruffling my hair, George shifting the slightest bit closer to me. The amount of attention was too much for me and the bizarre looks on Harry and Rons face was enough to make me want to test my luck with the unforgiving blizzard forming outside. “Tho I do think I could've come up with it if I had some time.” Fred shrugged.

“Sure she did” Ron scoffed looking between his brothers to me.

“Cross my heart.” Fred said crossing his heart. 

“Then I take back my compliment.” Ron said, the brotherly hatred he had for his brother far outweighing any sort of imaginary feud he had going on with me.

“Can't do that it’s already gone to my head.” Fred shrugged earning a laugh from Harry and comments on how they had to start out sourcing their pranks now from Ron.

George lead me just outside as the conversation inside kept building with Fred insisting that it was his genius that rubbed off on me, as if I would let him rub anything near me.

“Who was it in the hallway by the way?” George whispered leaning against the door frame. The hall was too cold and I had to inch forward towards George to step just out of the cold winds reach.

I shrugged “Oh it was just Draco.” I said having to look up to meet George’s eyes, I wish I was a bit taller or that he didn’t hover over me as much as he did.

His face turning into disgust just for a split second at the mention of his name “Just Draco?”

Was it Slytherin or Draco that had this effect on people? Somehow I know he would be a nuisance  regardless of his house. “He’s not that bad.He could ease up on the hair dye but he’s actually pretty decent.” I said mindlessly but truthfully.  “Don’t tell him I said that.” I shook my head looking up at George already visualizing just how much bigger Draco’s head would get if he knew I thought he was anything above horrid.

“Blimey I don’t think I could hold it in, it might slip out during our daily conversation” George said laughing. I wonder if I could bottle up that laugh or if I could make him laugh again just enough to commit it to memory.

“What? Draco not conversing with people outside of Slytherin? This is so unlike him I must check to see if he is feeling well.” I said faking worry for the sometimes socially awkward Slytherin. 

 “I came by to give you back your sweater.” I said holding it out towards him. Perhaps this was the end of our short lived friendship, perhaps after this we will go back to hardly speaking and perhaps I will go back to staring at him longingly during Herbology.

“You should come celebrate with us.” George said completely ignoring his sweater, the way he danced around it made me wonder if I actually offered him his sweater or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“A Slytherin? At a Gryffindor party? Oh but George what would the neighbors think?” I laughed clutching the front of my robes.

George laughed “I’ll take care of them, I’ve been told I’m quite scary.” he said. I wondered who told him such a lie or if he was even capable of being even remotely scary.

Shaking my head I tried my best not to sound too disappointed “Thank you but I suspect I’m going to have to help mend an entire teams egos.” I said offering him his sweater once more.

“Keep it.” He said pushing it towards me, his voice too soft and too gentle that I wondered if a stray quidditch ball didn’t knock me out mid game and I was now living out one of those muggle romance movies.

“Bu-”

“My arms hurt from all the bludger tossing, don’t think I could carry it all the way back.” He shrugged, I wonder how tired ones arms had to be not to be able to carry a sweater back.Maybe if I played Quidditch I would’ve understood. “Just give it back to me later.”

“George hurry up we need to start celebrating!” Fred shouted sticking his head out the door looking at his brother, I wonder if his arms were equally as tired. “You coming?” Fred said looking down at me, shaking my head I wished I could accept.

“ ‘fraid not gotta go and hear my entire house moan about Gryffindors all night.” Shrugging, I could already heard Pansys moans and feel Dracos side eye of disapproval. I wonder if they were moping around the Slytherin common room in Gryffindor robes or they were so extremely crossed that they figured out a way to un hexed the robes.

“Should’ve gotten sorted into Gryffindor instead.” George said earnestly, I wondered how different this day would've played out if I was sorted into Gryffindor my first year. Perhaps Ron and Harry wouldn't be that cross with me or perhaps they would’ve gotten something else to not like about me.

“I’ll make sure to send my complains to the sorting hat.” 

Fred pointed his finger at me “We got an end of year plan we’re going to need your opinion on.” he said smiling.

“See you later then?” George asked but I wish he would’ve stated, a promise sounded more hopeful than a question.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” I nodded seeing them walk away, deciding to wait a bit before I walked out. I suspect hateful tensions for Gryffindors from Slytherins are at an all time high right now and I truly don't want to get hexed in a weather like this.

“Bloody brilliant that one, wish I would've given her my sweater. Think she’ll take my jersey?” Fred said in a failed attempt at a whisper, something told me Fred Weasley was a terrible whisperer.  “Oi Y/N you still cold?” He called out towards me with his arms raised, waving them around as if I couldn't see the only other people in the hall.

“Shut up!” George said clapping his hands forcing Fred to keep walking.

“What I can’t worry about a girl’s warmth levels?” Fred said playfully shoving George.