#i do believe that viktor has the best intentions

[tomatolandsca]

Ok listen I am going to talk about Sky for a second. I will be honest that I didn't pay too much attention to her in season one, unfortunately she just seemed like another victim of colateral damaged in a very sad story, but I am amazed at the role she plays in this season. At the beginning I was unsure if the apparition we see was still Sky or something that the Hexcore was producing, specially because we knew so little of her during the first season. But to me it's clear that it is still her in some way and I love how she haunts Viktor in a not tradicional sense. She does not seem vengeful, but at the same time SHE is the one pushing Viktor to be better, the Hexcore gave him the habilities, but it is her voice that tells him to help the people, and she is the one that warns that even his powers have limits, to remember his own mortality.

I think that's beautiful because in some way, Viktor is still failing Sky, he is still not listening to her. He pushes his powers too far, he strives for evolution. Sky seems to understand that failure and limits are part of life, she tries to show him but he once again does not see.

Viktor will forever be haunted by Sky, and forever be deaf to her advice.

[triptychgrip]

"Yuuri, the sin of keeping Viktor to yourself is grave"

What are folks' thoughts on this line (said by Christophe to Yuuri at the Cup of China)?

I go back and forth on it, but it's a line of dialogue that has made me question how much Viktor divulges to Chris (which, in turn, makes me wonder how close Christophe and Viktor really are). If they're the kind of friends who text and have phone calls regularly, wouldn't Chris have the sense to realize (or have heard from Viktor, directly) that Yuuri isn't "keeping" Viktor from doing anything he doesn't want to do?

And, that Viktor flew to Hasetsu of his own volition, desperate to do something purely for just himself for the first time in a very long time?

Now, I'm fully aware that this "sin" comment also could have just been a somewhat petty thing that Chris uttered without thinking too deeply about it.

But if it's anything more than that, it's a pretty selfish thing to say. (Does anyone else think that it also gives the impression -- regardless of intent -- that Chris doesn't really believe in Viktor's abilities as a coach...that he, like Yakov, thinks Viktor is sort of wasting his time? Which...while perhaps logical, isn't very supportive, considering that Viktor was obviously at a breaking point that had been years in the making, and needed to make a drastic change in his life to regain perspective.)

Now, don't get me wrong: if it was just a petty comment coming from a place of hurt/slight resentment, that would be understandable (albeit unkind). But the resentment angle makes more sense with time; I think about how painful it might have been for Chris to think "ok, Viktor may be out of the running if he's now a coach, which means it's finally my year! If I can't win against Viktor, I'll show everyone that I'm the new one to beat"...only for things to obviously not go down that way, as per the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona.

While it's hard to say what might have gone down, we know that Chris was at the Sochi banquet, and likely saw just how much that night meant to Viktor. So, for Viktor to not have clued Chris in on his true motivations for "giving up" his career reinforces the idea that he may be very emotionally guarded. As in, that despite their many years of competing against each other and being friends, he didn't feel the need to divulge any of his true desires to Chris. AND it might also mean that Chris hasn't bothered to dig too deeply into the things Viktor has told him over the last several months...seven months, I believe, if we assume Viktor flew to Hasetsu in April, and that the Cup of China takes place in October/November.

So all this is to say, while it's very clear that Viktor and Chris are friends, I do have to wonder if they only became best friends (i.e. as opposed to "work friends") post-canon. And, I wonder how the very nature of being competitors interferes with the kind of emotional vulnerability that we often associate with the idea of "best friends"? This is something I think about with respect to Yuuri and Phichit, too...

[marvelstars]

"All slaves have a transmitter placed inside their bodies somewhere." "I've been working on a scanner to try and locate mine, but no luck." "Any attempt to escape…" "And they blow you up. Poof!"

―Shmi and Anakin Skywalker

One of the things that always get my attention in the phantom menace is how easily the people who would take care of Anakin from his 9 years to a young adult could ignore so easily the way his upbringing would affect him but if you see TPM movie, you get why.

Shmi and Anakin are living in horrorific circunstances, they know their owners, Gardulla and Watto can blow them up anytime they want with all legality on Tatooine so what´s left to them to stay not only sane but also kind under such circunstances is to keep what Viktor Emil Frankl called "mental/emotional freedom" they may not be owners of their own bodies but they are owners of their own mind and they can choose to be kind in their circunstances because they "WANT TO BE KIND" not because some code tells them they have to be kind or compassionate.

This is a family who has personally seen slaves being blown up, from kids, to women to adults of any age, a family who lived inside Gardulla´s the Hutt palace, you only need to remember ROTJ to understand this is a mother who had to explain to anakin what sex was from a very young age so he could tell her if someone wanted to take advantage of him that way even if she could not stop them from taking advantage of her Son.

QUI-GON: You should be proud of your son. He gives without any thought of reward.

SHMI: Well he knows nothing of greed.

So when the Jedi came to Tatooine, given the stories both Shmi and Anakin heard about them, most notably the story about them freeing slaves from the former Sith Empire some thousands of years ago, they didn´t expect much but at least they expected the problem to be recognized but Qui-Gon has to explain to them that they are on Tatooine on accident and that they are not here to free slaves and when you get to Coruscant you learn that the Jedi are mostly concerned to what happens in the Senate to put much attention to what happens in the wider galaxy.

So we get in an scenario where Anakin is send to the Temple by his mother to give him a chance of a normal life but the world in which he gets to doesn´t even have the lenses to begin to understand his pov and not only that, they expect him to adapt himself to them, not the other way around.

You think? I don´t know Yoda, If I were a 9 year old who still has a ticking bomb inside my body(Qui-Gon didnt had time to get him to an infirmary), who had to leave behind my mother in such circunstances and who now is surrounded by adults called masters, who can read my mind, you know, the only thing left free for a slave like Anakin, I guess I would be pretty afraid too and not because I am falling to the darkside but because it´s a normal human reaction but Jedi are just not that empatethic in this version of the Order right?

So what we get is that Anakin gets to live in a place with people who certainly have good intentions, who see themselves as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy but who mostly believe this means doing what the Senate tells them to do, they are completely unable and unwilling to even begin to understand Anakin, most of them, even Yoda have too sheltered lives to begin to understand where Anakin is coming from and it shows painfully as part of the tragedy, because where they see Anakin, they see pain/anger/hate and where Anakin sees them, he sees ignorance and lack of empathy that he at times sees as cruelty but both sides try to make it work, acting as if that´s not what they see on each other.

So even if Obi-Wan did his best to understand Anakin he´s still too sheltered to understand him they way his mother did, he believes Anakin having a problem with food snacks is a sign of him being greedy /asking for special treatment instead of being a sign of someone who has been starved before as punishment and a natural reaction is to keep food and insects around so he doesn´t die of hunger, Obi-Wan is just disgusted by it.

But you know someone who certainly grew up as sheltered as the members of the jedi order, as part of a noble house in a mid rim planet but who has plenty of life experiences and isn´t so set in his ways that he can recognize the signs Anakin is showing for all to see? who has travelled to Tatooine and many other worlds as part of his Sith training? Palpatine, this is why he allowed Anakin to stay in the Jedi Order, he knew he would just grow up bitter and resentful of them because they were just too set in their own ways to try to understand and that for him, was just preparation for him to be turned into a Sith. He can be the one adult who understands where Anakin is coming from and he doesn´t even need to lie.

So when I see this character seen in the fandom as someone spoiled (lol) who gave Obi-Wan a hard time every chance he got, I wish Lucas had been more direct in telling this part of the story because there´s just so much of this tragedy lost in translation that isn´t even funny.

But you know who also had the means to get to Anakin and completely understand what the hell happened, who was from the same world? Who knew how to get to him in his own language despite years of being submerged in the darkside? Yes, his Son Luke, so I guess this is how the story rhymes.

[chaifootsteps]

(commercial break from Viv drama, normal service will resume shortly)

I think the other big potential of Vikdecai outside of the angst on the surface is that they could both have the exact same tension between two warring impulses:

* "things would have been fine if you'd just listened to me" (about leaving/not leaving the Lackadaisy)

vs

* "I need you to still need me because no one needs me anymore" (present day situation where Viktor is benched and frustrated behind the bar and Mordecai is alone in the vipers nest of the Marigolds & Savoy siblings endangering his life to investigate a dead man's death)

and the ultimate sad thing is that both their past regrets and their present loneliness have the same cause - they didn't want to be separated! they're partners and they wouldn't have had what's implied to be a pretty bad argument if they weren't trying to negotiate the other into being with them. but it's tragic because Mordecai probably didn't even tell Viktor about his intention to investigate Atlas' death - he probably thought Viktor would agree that the business is as good as finished and come with him. And Viktor probably couldn't believe Mordecai would ditch so fast when he thought his partner would stay with him & Mitzi

if it weren't for the circumstances that parted them, their first instinct would have probably been "stay together" - because although the other one drives them nuts, there's no one else they've ever trusted as much in the bootlegging business outside of Atlas himself (maybe even more than him), but now it's Atlas who has driven the wedge between them. Now matter how much Mordecai might want to do otherwise, he owes Atlas a debt for saving his life. And no matter how much Viktor might want otherwise, he can't bring himself to abandon Mitzi.

but I like to imagine they'd be loyal to one another to the last - Mordecai's ultimate downfall could easily be due to his stopping someone gunning Viktor down, just as Viktor could end up expelled from the Lackadaisy entirely if he had a chance to hurt Mordecai and didn't take it

God, this hurts in the best possible way. All of their problems (well, some of their problems) could have been avoided if they'd done a better job of communicating their situation or just let each other go.

But they couldn't. Because they're partners.

[hexhomos]

What’s the best way to write an unreliable narrator? How can we communicate to the readers that it is an unreliable narrator, without bluntly stating that in the author’s notes? How can we make sure we’re writing the “correct” narrative versus just mischaracterizing someone? What are the biggest mistakes when writing for it and how can we avoid them? Lastly, what do you think makes an unreliable narrative story compelling (or not compelling, depending on your stance)?

This ask has been in my backburner for a good number of months, partly because I think it's a really good (and really difficult to answer!) set of questions. It goes back to the original debate over how to spot or define an unreliable narrator, what difference the medium they exist in makes, what can be taken as authoral intent and what can be written off as the audience's projection, etc. This varies depending on the story. This is all complicated stuff people have written entire books on -a lot of which I have not read, so I'm no particular authority- but I DO happen to frequently enjoy unreliable narrators and tend to gravitate towards them in most stories that appeal to me. I like how they embrace the idea that No Point Of View Is Ever Neutral, that the act of writing itself or telling a story in any way IS choosing a side, a scope, a voice, a point you are trying to make or sentiment you are trying to evoke, and that "neutrality" is a flimsy illusion. In its most literal manifestation, neutrality is just... centrism. Centrism *is* taking a side. It just happens to be the side of pissbabies, most of the time.

The unreliable narrator throws away any pretense of narrative neutrality by way of Existing and hemorrhaging their opinions all over a text. And I think that's compelling, because in many ways they're the MOST honest type of character in fiction. They just also achieve that by lying???? It's that central contradiction which makes them incredibly fucking funny.

So yesterday I stumbled upon these tweets:

And they started marinating in the back of my head. That's sort of the whole thing, right? Its hard to give you a bullet list of "Things To Do When Unreliabling Your Narrators," because that depends on the type of person they are and what, specifically, causes the unreliability. A child who knows less about the world is unreliable in one specific way, an adult who knows too much and has an specific agenda is unreliable in ANOTHER way. They may be completely or partially unaware that the reality they describe is fabricated. They may be fudging the line of fact and fiction to save face, make a point, or convince you of a belief. And the thing is that... you cannot always tell? Sometimes a character is just stupid. Katniss hungergames is famously unreliable for just reading people wrong and having a shit judgement of social interaction; you could also argue that every character is a bit unreliable in that way.

In a lot of cases it takes a second perspective to show how someone's account of an event is flawed. Visual and written media can do this in different ways, and it only expands if you consider things like audiodramas or interactive games. (Consider how viktor's bio presents him as a prince of logic and measurement, whereas his voicelines have a deeply unreasonable guy ranting about his Absolute Truth having to be imposed on everybody, or have it destroy them altogether.) Personally, I can't really think of a way this could be done 'wrong' - it comes down to boring stories vs interesting stories if you truly need me to find examples, but that's a failure of things BEYOND just the unreliability of the narrator. Like structure, pacing, clarity of message, that kind of stuff. The only way I believe you can ever 'fail' at doing one is if you, as an author, notice that details you WANTED readers to take from your story are not at all present on readings of your text.

And even that is hard to quantify! People will misinterpret texts even at their simplest level, like ~'American Psycho Is not about a mass murderer, the murders never happened (despite them being described or shown in detail) that was just all in his head!' is an actual argument you will find on the internet. At a certain point you can't take responsibility for those who don't get it, or you'll never write anything out of fear. I DO think that fandoms tend to make that conversation a lot harder and run with most things at face value, and I worry about that a lot, so I plaster my stuff with context tags. Not everyone may enjoy this, but it makes me feel less insane when putting stuff online and fearing that.. it won't be properly questioned.

TL;DR - Find what makes your narrator unreliable. Exacerbate it when writing their point of view. What things do they emphasize? What things do they hide, through incompetence or omission? Why? What contradictions can be found in the things they say VS what they *actually* do? The biggest mistake any author can do IMO is to make shit boring. Aside from that, I think any sufficiently fleshed out character can be compelling, they just need to given a corresponding narrative to excel on.

[viiktorious]

⧼   sean teale, cis man, he/him   /   achilles come down by gang of youths + viktor - latin origin meaning 'champion' you were named with the intention that no matter what the situation you're in you'll always come out on top. it's a heavy burden to place on someone's shoulder, and you felt the weight at a very young age. lucky for you you've always shown promise and talent. the sky blessed you with the innate ability to fly across it with ease, to do what many non-magical men can only dream of. it's a blessing and you've taken it with stride. it fills you in ways nothing else seems to do. with a broom and golden in your hand you've become victorious; family - a sacred bond. the reason you exist and the collection of hands that molded you into the man you are now. in an environment where the pull of darkness is like a siren song they are the reason you have not been led astray. the past, the people you've lost have become the guiding light in your life. friends - the family you make. the reason you know that sometimes some bonds are just as strong as the pull of the blood coursing through your veins. blood you would readily spill if those bonds were ever endangered. fiercely loyal to a fault. you'd put your life on the line for anyone that earned a spot within your heart; love - old english, german, latin or ancient greek. to love is to care. filial, platonic or romantic. the latter... for you? unknown. more elusive than a golden snitch. it is something you dream about, to have what so many before you were able to obtain. the path of a victor is lonely it seems.  ⧽   ━━   hey, isn’t that VIKTOR KRUM? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the THIRTY TWO year old pure blood WIZARD is a DURMSTRANG INSTITUTE alumnus who has gone on to be a WORLD CLASS QUIDDITCH PLAYER & TEMPORARY HOGWARTS CO-COACH. i’ve heard they can be quite LOYAL & HONORABLE, but i don’t know… they came off very CLOSED OFF & SHORT TEMPERED in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

he's an only child and it shows. his parents ( aleksander and stefania krum ) spoiled him quite a bit, but that love also came with very high expectations for viktor. their affection seemed to be a little bit transactional, though i don't believe they did it intentionally and had his best interest at hand... but he realized at a young age that if he got good grades then soon after he would get a new broom, or the toys he'd been eyeing at the store on their last outing. it was sort of a 'win-win' situation but also an incredibly heavy burden. though it was also partially self-imposed. ( he was a little bit too proud to not strive to be the best in everything he was involved in )

he's very much an example of 'only child syndrome' with certain traits ( most of them not good ) though mainly the difficulty to socialize, the inability to share, the perfectionism, introversion, sensitivity to criticism, and as he grew up... the loneliness. which honestly didn't get any better once he started to show some real talent for quidditch, but it seemed like besides his teammates everyone only wanted to get close to him for their five seconds of fame and he honestly hated that.

the fact that he seemed to be a bit of an outlier in durmstrang, a dark arts institute with igor karkaroff as a headmaster during his schooling, also didn't make things any easier. the people he actually trusted were very few, he was able to count them with one hand. his short temper made him very ... use fists first, ask questions later ... so you know, not the best way to make meaningful connections !

then his last year came and we all know how that turned out, but basically: visiting hogwarts ( good ), meeting hermione ( very good ), befriending harry ( also very good ), being selected for the triwizard tournament ( not in his plans but why not ? new experiences and all ), being manipulated like a puppet with the imperius curse by a death eater, forced to torture cedric diggory with the cruciatus curse and then getting stunned and disqualified ? ( 0 / 10 quite frankly very awful, would NOT recommend, still have nightmares about it ).

after that i like to imagine he graduated and started trying to live his best life as a quidditch player then fast forward to fleur's wedding ... someone he ✨ trauma bonded ✨ and kept in contact with ... getting ambushed and attacked by even more death eaters ? click here for his reaction !

feeling that attack a little bit too personal he decided to stay in britain and help the order of the phoenix as much as he could. i don't think he was heavily involved in the second wizarding war, not in the front lines and definitely not nearly as much as he would have wanted to be. but he did provide aid, and a safe heaven to those that needed to get out of britain and had gotten hurt somehow. ( he was a pretty good healer, almost had to be with how accident prone quidditch players are ) but he did his best to help as much as possible. i have more Thoughts here and Possibilities but i still need to unravel them some more. him not being heavily involved also meant he didn't find out about many things until way after the fact ( mainly harry's "death" ) he only stayed until the funeral and then promptly went back to bulgaria to try to keep on living despite everything that happened.

back in bulgaria... home doesn't feel like home anymore. so he dives into his passion full time, not being one too in tune with his emotions he decides to do his utmost to ignore and move on. and it does work for a few years at least, but the universe has a funny way of repeating events and he gets word of what's happening again. and so he takes a "break" from his quidditch career and contacts professor mcgonagall for a position as a temporary co-coach... though his intention is more being involved, actually helping this time and hopefully protecting those he holds dear.

aaaaand... this is where we are now ♡

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Part 77- What Lies Beneath

Summary: Time jump! 1 day till Halloween and Lestat's masquerade ball. Josie is now back in the lion's den and spends much time alone but not by her wishes. Thranduil has made residence in another room. Raven is released from lock up in the dungeons but not before another presence in the pits makes themselves known who knows all about her which noticeably disturbs Caroline. An unpleasant breakfast gathering takes place. The brat Prince and the Elvenking both handle the batty Raven who's mad as a hatter. Thranduil's brutish behavior to his wife continues. Lestat tries to comfort Josie. She's cynical at first, but soon finds the closed off vampire no different from Garrett as she learns his past. Josie drifts off to sleep to a beautifully sad tune while Raven makes an escape to do her dirty bidding.....

*Angst* *Mentions of death*

3 days had passed since Selene brought you back to the vampire inferno atop the snowy desolate mountain. Thranduil was so furious and hurt that he took vacancy in another room. You had not seen or heard from him since you walked through Lestat's front doors as Thranduil glared at you in disgust, which he had intently done to further get his point across. A point that was duly noted and hurt like hell. You shivered throughout the night while you tried to sleep but all you could do was cry and when you did manage to go under, the haunting dreams were waiting.

The weather outside was still frightful and the fires that lurked inside were not delightful. You hung out with Haldir and Legolas some, but you could tell even they were not thrilled with your actions so you kept to yourself. It didn't even seem to matter what Thranduil had done. Apparently he was excused of his past discretions because it was 20 years ago when it occurred. Never mind the fact he concealed it from you or that it was your mother he screwed. You were outnumbered when it came to Garrett being involved and were offered no free passes for your actions like your King was...if he was even still your King. You felt like a plague and officially abandoned....alone with a baby inside of you. You had managed to alienate everyone you loved and were a magnet for those you didn't. That being Lestat, Caroline and...Raven, wherever she disappeared to since she was melted with water like the wicked witch she was.

-Somewhere down below-

"You can let me out now! I've been in here for....I don't even know how long now! Mommy fearest! Marius you filthy trader!! LeFuck!!" Raven's weak shouts echoed through the dim lit murky dungeons of the Chateau de Lioncourt.

"Does your mouth ever cease? You will certainly receive no assistance with that foul tongue."

Raven bolted to the iron bars but didn't dare touch them as being part vampire, it would put her on her ass and in her weakened state, she may not survive it. "Who are you?? Where are you?? Speak freak!!" This was the first time she had heard a voice since she was thrown into the 6x6 cell like trash.

"Those who live in glass houses should not cast stones. Are you yourself not a freak? An abomination I believe it was that Viktor marked you as." The voice replied from down the hall.

Raven was now livid. She peeked through one of the square openings of the bars the best she could and was able to see a shadow moving about in a cell about 3 blocks down on the opposite side of hers. "It appears you are in the same predicament as me so maybe you should shut the fuck up!" She kept gawking down the hall but the voice went silent. "Hello?? Asshole!!"

Chains could be heard moving about. "Your hideous mouth is just like your mother's. My ears bleed and my blood curls to know you still exist....Clover."

"Ok that is it. Who the fuck are you?? How do you know so much about me?!"

"I know many things fiendish girl. Your nefarious ways will soon catch up with you all." The voice presaged and then gave an invidious laugh, then went silent as footsteps and keys could be heard in the distance.

"Mother!! That better be you! LET ME OUT!!!"

Caroline entered from the end of the hall where the other person was and gave them a dastardly glance as she passed the cell. She stopped at Raven's cell. "Have you learned your lesson on your erring ways? Or do you need another 3 days to think about it."

"You are such a hypocrite. Let me out of here. I'm hungry, filthy, irritated and I cannot take anymore of the stench or the ramblings of the jerk over there. Who the hell is that anyways? They know quite a bit about me and you and I get a witchy vibe from their presence, but I'm not strong enough to place it...I...I know this feeling...that smell....like....chamomile."

"They have spoken to you??" Caroline appeared worried and gave a troublesome look down the hall. "Well...Lestat's prisoners are none of your concern and they really should mind their tongue if they know what's good for them." She cautioned loudly with intent aimed at the hostage's ears. "Now...it's time to go." The vampire vixen couldn't seem to get Raven out of there fast enough. She unlocked the door and abruptly pulled Raven by her hand, leading her in the opposite direction of the mysterious captive.

Raven had to cover her eyes as she entered the light of day. Being in the dark so long made them sensitive.

"Now...the servants have prepared the morning's meal for the guests. You will be on your best behavior, eat your meal and return to your room."

"Wait..you're making me go in there like this?? I must look like I've been beaten with an ugly stick! You're doing this on purpose to humiliate me!!"

"What...did you think sitting in the dark with no food for 3 days was sufficient punishment for what you did?"

"Uh...YES!! God I hate you..." Raven reeled and went to sit at a solo table behind the main one that overlooked the window.

Marius came in and Raven literally made a snarl sound, then snapped her teeth together at him in a biting gesture. He smirked as he walked passed her and repeated the gesticulation. Marius was a laid back vampire who kept to himself but he had no tolerance for her insubordinate behavior and found her taunting tactics petulant yet amusing.

The next to enter was Haldir, Legolas and Thranduil all with flat unpleasant expressions. It was not their cup of tea to be in the same atmosphere as vampires let alone share the same room with them. Thranduil hustled in his swagger attire right to the bar where the wine sat atop calling his name. It was Dorwinion wine too. Narcisse didn't do business with vampires but that did not mean the astute Lestat couldn't get his hands on the sought after vintage. In this world, vampires also loved a superior ageless wine just as the elves. Thranduil swirled the grape around in his mouth, savoring the flavors of home and then let it roll down the back of his throat in one swift swallow. Haldir and Legolas sat on the opposite side of the table away from Raven and gawked at her backside with undeniable disgust.

She turned her head to the side. "I can feel you looking at me lowly sprites. Am I that desirable?" she grinned and rolled her eyes. "You know I had barbies as a child that looked a lot like you. I burnt off all their ugly blonde hair."

Haldir stiffened straight up in his chair with a miffed composure and Legolas followed suit. Thranduil sat down beside his son and rolled his eyes at them for allowing her to get under their skin so easily.

In you walked with the debonair Lestat in tow. It was not intentional to show up with him as you had crossed paths in the halls on your way there and he followed you to your dismay. You got the distinct feeling he went with you intentionally so you wouldn't feel alone and out of place since he was well aware of the treatment you were receiving. Lestat would certainly rather be off brushing his cat than be subdued to this chaotic state of affairs. Marius sat nonchalantly with his feet up reading a magazine but what he was really doing was supervising so things didn't turn into another shit show.

"Sorry I'm late. I was just out trying to catch my breakfast." Lestat joked. Although he probably was telling the truth.

Thranduil's pupils dilated in pure green envy at the sight of you with him and quite frankly, it made you happy. At least you knew he still cared, or so you thought. Haldir and Legolas stood up at your entry. "My Queen." they both expressed and gave a head bow. Thranduil gritted his teeth at their display while he sat firmly in his chair. They were only being respectful gentlemen but knowing their affections of you only exasperated him. The yandere side of him was quite evident over the past few days and it just kept uncontrollably intensifying.

You and Raven locked eyes. She reached up and placed her hand on your shoulder. "Well look at what the cat dragged in." she rudely stated. You smacked it away as you glared down at her with pursed lips.

"Don't you ever touch me again or I will rip your arm from it's socket." You then walked away to go sit down.

Thranduil actually could not help himself and allowed a proud smirk to form as he glanced at Raven with deriding eyes.

"Ooooo. Touchyyy." she snarked.

Lestat slowly walked about behind Raven. "Speaking of cats. Louie sends his love with a special present. He heard you were famished."

He pulled something out of his pocket, then dropped a dead mouse on her plate. Raven screamed and flew out of her chair so fast, it tipped over. "You distasteful Lefuck! What the hell is your problem??"

"Oh please. I think you know the answer to your own idiotic question. It's you. Now sit your shameful ingrate ass down and eat your meal. I would hate it if Louie's feelings were hurt...again by you. You see...when he's angry, then I'm angry. And I don't think you want to make me angry."

Lestat's eyes flashed a sinful red and her entire sour demeanor turned to that of fright. Apparently she has witnessed an irate Lestat before and it obviously wasn't a pleasant memory. He had great patience but it was wearing thin with her. "And by the way, my name is Lestat. Get it right the next time my name exits your vulgar mouth, although I would prefer you never speak it at all."

"You...you cannot seriously expect me to eat that??"

'What is the problem? Is Louie's preference of food beneath yours? Would you rather I bring you a child? Would that be less....revolting?"

You sat with your jaw dropped open at this little opprobrium Lestat was inflicting on the deserving entitled bitch. Her treatment of you seemed to have triggered him. At least someone was on your side and if it had to be Lestat, then so be it. It was shocking though after how you treated him the other day. Was he trying to possibly show up Thranduil?

"Mother??? You're not going to let him make me eat that???" Raven pleaded. Caroline looked down and said nothing. She seemed to have learned her lesson from the other day when she crossed Lestat.

"Eat it or starve. It is your choice. No other food will be offered to you." Lestat flatly stated. In came the servants with all the delicious smelling food and she just stared at it in disbelief.

"You're going to serve a bunch of repulsive elves all this food and give me nothing??" Raven glared at Lestat with bugged out eyes.

"You do not have nothing." He solemnly stated.

Her eyes raged. "I will not eat that!!" She picked up the plate and smashed it on the ground at his feet. Oh god. You were now genuinely frightened yourself as to what was going to happen. The look in Lestat's eyes was deadly and you could see his jaw clench as he swallowed.

No one was going to do anything and you did not want to see her get her throat ripped out no matter how much you despised her, so you intervened and slipped between them. Lestat looked you up and down at your temerity which you couldn't tell if he was offended or enamored by it.

"There is no need to get violent. Why don't you just send Raven to her room for now and let yourselves cool down??"

"I will not just go away! Who the hell are you to give orders to me?? Where is Garrett?? He will not let you all treat me as such!!"

"Oh...haven't you heard? Garrett has left the building... and he will not be returning. He has no power here nor over me and would be a fool to offer you protection and an even bigger one to challenge me. Do as she said. Go to your room little girl before I make you."

"Oh my god!! You're taking her side?? and why did he leave?? What did you do to him?? It was...you! Wasn't it?? He left because of you!!!" she snapped as she spun to you. "Look at you...all these men falling at your feet, kissing the ground you walk on! But that just wasn't good enough huh?? You just had to have G too and take him away from me! He was the only one who ever treated me like I mattered and now I have nothing! You will pay for this sister."

Her eyes glowed burnt orange as she death glared you. It seemed her power was returning now that she was not confined behind iron.

You heard Garrett's words echo in your mind. 'Find your zone and focus but don't go bananas like your fruitloop sister.' Your hand filled up like a 4th of July Phuljhari as you clenched your fist.

Thranduil saw your hand light up and knew he needed to conciliate the situation before it literally got out of hand.

The next thing you knew, Thranduil swiftly made his way to Raven.

"You started this wicked one, you will forgive me if I finish it."

The Elvenking displayed another round of his unseen glorious magic by you. An electricity ball formed between his hands and shot out like lightning, knocking an unsuspecting Raven right on her ass.

Thranduil's choice of weapon were always his swords but when that was taken away, his powerful wizardry of light surfaced, although a wizard he was not.

Marius quickly reprimanded her inside his arms of steel as Thranduil came face to face with the swearing and struggling pyrotechnic.

"It is no secret that you have no regard for a child's life but you will never harm my child or her mother, or you will suffer my wrath. I can assure you dhampir, your power is no match for mine. This was a mere warning. Another attempt and I will sever more than your wretched arm from your miserable body."

"Now that the Elvenking has had his turn to play, Marius. Take this headache to her room and secure it. It seems she hasn't had enough time to reflect." Lestat ordered. Marius whisked her away and Caroline followed as she gave an imperil glare to Thranduil.

"No! You will ALL pay for this, especially you elfling." Raven threatened through her teeth as she squirmed and sniggered while being drug out the door.

You skittishly approached Thranduil. "Th...Thank you for helping me." you softly said with a caring smile.

Thranduil peered down at you with an expressionless face and then went to reclaim his seat. "I did not do it for you. I did it for my daughter. She is of the only importance to me."

His words cut you like a knife. Your eyes began to swell as he went about his breakfast completely impervious to your pain. You turned to leave and slightly stumbled over a chair, then ran out crying.

You found yourself in the library sitting on the couch that you and Garrett conversed on. Covering your face with your hands, you began to loudly sob. A cool wind showered over you. "Garrett?" you gasped as you dropped your hands to your knees.

There stood Lestat holding out a tissue. "Sorry to disappoint you." His sarcasm was clear cut.

You sniffled and took the kleenex. "Thank you.....What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." he simply stated.

"It's not like I have anywhere to go. You were right. They have all forsaken me. Thranduil, Haldir, Legolas, Raven, Garrett...my own mother..."

"I told you that I would not. You can always come to my room and spend that time with me I asked for. I have something that you might be interested in seeing."

Although Lestat appeared to look and sound genuinely concerned, you still took his words as a sexual invitation. "Seriously?!! Is that all I am good for? A roll in the hay? Go figure, you're just like the rest." You then got up in a huff to leave.

Lestat grabbed your arm and spun you around so quickly, your vision blurred. "And you're just like all the rest, assuming I am nothing but a sexual predator!"

"Is that not what you are?! Look what you did to me in your room and then later in my dream!" you reeled with validation.

"It is the nature of the beast in me yes, but that is not all that I am. You wouldn't know that now would you because you will not take the time to get to know me. Have I harmed you? Have I forced you to do anything you did not....want to do? Little miss Josie, too good for the likes of a vampire...oh wait....only THIS vampire. Yet I am the one who is here........"

"Don't you do that. Don't you dare blame Garrett for his decision. He did it for me." you cried in his defense.

"I was not solely referring to Garrett. I came here offering you comfort. Has anyone else? Yet you stand here all high and mighty before me. I am sorry your husband makes you feel desired only for the bedroom. He's a fool to not see your worth otherwise and does not deserve you or the child you carry."

"How dare you speak of him or my child in such a way!" You raised your hand to smack him and he caught it mid air. He squeezed your wrist and yanked you against him as you gasped in fear.

"Can't handle the truth? He just tore your heart out and stomped on it in front of a room full of people and yet you still defend him. I can see I have wasted my time here." He tossed your wrist to the side and began to walk away.

"Wait!...."

Lestat halted and slowly turned back to you.

"You're right....you're right about everything. I am just so....lost. Nothing is like it was supposed to be. All the dreams I had....they're just gone. If anyone was a fool...it was me to believe in such fairytale bullshit. I used to think my prior life was so horrible and I prayed to be saved. I prayed for another life. Some perfect little story from a book but....they're not real. I knew that all along but...I wanted to believe. My belief was the only light I had then when my world was so dark. And now....it's pitch black."

Lestat contemplated on your words for a moment and then he began to walk back to you. "Then think about what I am offering you. I can fix all of that but you have to meet me in the middle somewhere." His chilly fingertips stroked your tear stricken cheek.

"Is...your bedroom the middle? I will go...I will spend that time with you. But...I am the one who is in control here. My pace...Can you handle that?"

The leery Lestat was not one for compromises but he agreed. "Yes and...yes."

Upon entering his chambers, your body stiffened. You had no idea what was going to happen. With the vulnerable state you were in, you knew you shouldn't have agreed to this but you didn't want to spend yet another sleepless lonely night in your room. "So...what is it that you wanted to show me?" You slightly gulped hoping it wasn't what you were thinking.

Lestat beamingly smiled and walked over to a large wooden box.

When you had first arrived at his chateau, Lestat played the violin for you but you had only wanted to find Thranduil which upset him. "I thought maybe this time you would be more invested in hearing me play?" The tiny instrument laid inside a coffin shaped box lined with red velvet. He carefully uncovered it and took it out as if it were his prize possession. It probably was.

A wave of relief rushed over you. "Ohh...that...is what you wanted to show me?"

The vampire that never expressed much humor actually chortled. "You were expecting a more...personal instrument of mine?"

Well now you just felt extremely embarrassed and were probably as red as the material in that box. You played it cool. "Poor Lestat. You wish."

He became even more amused by your terrible attempt at evading the question. "Do you want to...touch it?" he wickedly grinned as he held the violin out to you.

"No thanks. I think I know what it feels like." Oh that was so bad, you thought. Your mind had went straight to the gutter and remembered when he had you pinned against the wall right behind you, pressing his unyielding cock against you.

He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I assure you, it feels much different when it's out of it's....enclosure."

The always unamused vampire had jokes. You decided to keep humoring him. "Does that go for the size too?" Holy shit, what was he doing to you? It was like his aura was captivating you in every way.

"It's not the size of the fangs, it's how you bite."

Ok, this had to stop. You decided to deflect. "Don't you have much better things to do with your time than this?"

"All a vampire has is time."

"You got me there....So...I'm much more curious about something other than your...instrument and it's capabilities. Why is it you were carrying around a dead mouse in your pocket? You had no intentions of going into the dining room. You only did that to follow me."

Lestat gave a playful smile. "I was on my way to her room to place it under her pillow. Yep."

You busted out in laughter. "Now that would have been much more amusing than dropping it on her plate."

"It would have yes, but it all worked out the same. She has crossed one too many lines."

"Well....thank you by the way for attempting to shut her down although it horribly failed."

"It did not fail. Pissed her off more? Yes...but she knows my limits. Her and I have a rocky past, but it's obvious Garrett told you all about that since you seem to know about other things in my life that I speak to no one about. Raven was pure hellfire. A little child she was, but also a fierce killer capable of the ruthless pursuit of blood with all a child's demanding. I wanted to end her putrid existence on more than one occasion but Louis wouldn't hear of it. Garrett wouldn't have either but he wasn't around so much after what she did. He was smart, I will give him that. He wanted to steer clear of the dangers that followed her. Viktor and his death dealers being of top priority after her rampage on Laketown. A vampire's life is a life of discretion but Clover had no concept of that at her age. She still wouldn't if she were set free. Caroline and her demon seed cannot hide forever. I have only prolonged the inevitable for them. Death will come for them. I can feel it."

His words sent shivers clear through you. "Then why have you...and still do continue to harbor them? Aren't you worried you will be shown no mercy for aiding and abetting them?"

"Good. Let them come. I'm not worried." the ever so confident vampire raved as he sat down beside you.

"You're doing it all for Louis aren't you? Why? He left you alone."

"As I told you before...In the end, we are all alone. Immortality seems like a good idea until you realize you're going to spend it that way. You should now know this yourself."

"How...how do you do it though? Living up here so desolate, away from the world? It must be unbearable in some way?"

"There comes a time for every vampire when the idea of eternity becomes momentarily unbearable. Living in the shadows, feeding in the darkness with only your own company to keep rots into a solitary, hollow existence."

"Don't you want love? I mean...someone to share eternity with?"

Lestat sarcastically joked. "With all my black little heart."

"So....you've never had love? Respectfully, you look quite young for your turning age but seem quite matured otherwise."

Lestat chuckled. "I am over 400 years old. Maybe it's Maybelline."

"Funny. Seriously...how old are you...human wise?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"Ok well...you truly don't look much older than me....24?"

The look of astonishment on his face was priceless. "Nailed it."

"You're kidding right? I'm 24...."

"I know...Your blood told me when I tasted it."

"You mean when you told me my blood does not satisfy your thirst. What did that mean anyways since you seem to be so intrigued with me."

"You're beautiful to me because you're human. Your frailty. Your short years. Your heart. All that suddenly seems more precious than anything I've ever known. The fact that I do not desire your blood made you all the more desirable because I have never tasted a blood I did not crave."

"And here I thought it was because of my looks." you giggled.

"Oh you are most definitely one stunning creature physically. I cannot deny that."

"So...you still didn't answer me. You have never known love?" It was obvious he had hoped you would give up on that question.

"I...I'm sorry. You do not have to tell me...Please don't be angry."

"I am not angry. I will tell you if you also have the time...."

"I'm here aren't I?"

"That you are.....I'm from New Orleans. As you are probably aware of, Mardi Gras is a huge thing there. How I love that time. Party's, masquerade balls, getting shit faced, girls girls girls....I think you get the idea. Vampires though...not something supposed to be real although it has always been portrayed that New Orleans was the city of the dead. Low and behold...the myths were true. Marius de Romanus found me. He is my maker. My keeper. He probably regrets that at times." he laughed.

"One night, shortly after my conversion, he took me out on the beach. There were many gatherings there at night celebrating the event. Bon fires, music etc.... One in particular group of 2 people, man and woman, had their own spot and fire going. As Marius and I walked through the sand, nothing appeased me until I heard the music...the violin she played, a guitar he strummed. I wanted to go and listen but Marius told me I could not interact with humans anymore. Made me wonder why he even took me to a place filled with them when I was forbidden to "know" them. I could not help myself and went to watch them play. I was instantly infatuated with the woman. A young brunette with her long hair tied back. She played with such ease and grace. I knew the song. It was the same tune I played for you. I can never forget it. Or her. She looked at me while she played and smiled. it was an unmistakable inviting smile. I wanted to know her. Be with her. We spoke for awhile and I learned her name. Sophia. Marius fumed as he stood watch but I didn't care. I asked her to play some more. There laid an extra violin and I picked it up, then joined in with them. It all was good until the vampire in me took over without my knowing. I began playing erratically and my eyes glowed without my consent. The man panicked and then so did Sophia. They ran screaming, drawing attention from others. Marius forced me to handle it."

"We chased them down and I....I killed her...but only by snapping her neck. Marius took care of the man and then we burned them in an abandoned bonfire. It haunted me for years...even to this day. Like Garrett, I did not choose this life and I did not want to kill people. Love you ask? I loved the idea of her. Her face still haunts me. How scared she was of me when she saw my true nature. Marius was right. I could have never been with her. At least I believed that at that time. Loving the monsters always ends badly for the human. It's a rule I was taught and believed it ever since then. This violin...was the one I played that night. I kept it. I don't know why. As if I needed a reminder of what I had done. So there you have it. I suppose that's the closest to love I had become."

Within a period of 3 days, you have heard the tragic stories of 2 vampires. It was truly heart wrenching to you and only proved your beliefs that they're not all monsters. You missed Garrett so much in that moment. Although Lestat's story was incredibly sad, you found Garrett's much worse, especially how traumatized he was by it. But then again, Lestat has lived with his for 400 years. It was still fresh to Garrett. The fact Lestat still felt grief over it though spoke volumes about him.

"I thank you for trusting me and opening up about your past. There is no judgement from me.... I...I would love to hear you play again. This time I promise...I will truly listen. Oh...and before I forget...I saw a gramophone in the dining area today. May I use it sometime?"

"Yes you may....So...make yourself comfortable then. Relax on the couch. If you fall asleep, I do not mind. Do I have your answer then by the way, on the ball?"

You now could see why he liked masquerade balls and such. "Of course I will attend. All I've got is time." you said with a grin and then laid down.

He smiled and got up. "You see...this is all I wanted. Your time and company. Someone to listen and care about what I have to say." He then picked up the violin and began to play. It brought tears to your sleepy eyes as you drifted off to sleep minutes later to the sad music.

The music echoed through the castle as a slinking Raven found a way out of her room.

She was bound and determined to find out who the mysterious person was in the dungeons below that her mother kept a tight lip lock on. The disingenuous diva had a strong feeling that whomever it was...

would change the course of many things and many lives forever....

@redeemer46

Masterlist

[deifiliaa]

I'm going down a Cho rabbit hole rn!! Do you have any Cho fic recs?? I'd love to read more Cho

hello anon, welcome to the rabbit hole, just wanted to let you know that this is one of those asks i dream about getting because cho chang? oft-overlooked-and-underappreciated-in-fandom cho chang?? why yes i would LOVE to stand on this soapbox and talk endlessly about her and my favorite writings that feature her <3

i get that a lot of the pairings featured in these fics/drabbles are very not mainstream lol but please don’t let that scare you off because honestly?? these are all a mix of fun, brilliant, stunning, transcendent stories and i have spent approximately a million hours thinking about each one of these because the character building and emotional payoff and dimensional portrayal of cho is overwhelmingly just so satisfying. so capable of filling that void canon left. so chef’s kiss.

gonna do my best to pick a line from each fic/drabble that i think does a good job of capturing its ✨ essence ✨ so. here we gooo. (mature/explicit fics noted with an asterisk * ).

record scratch * by @provocative-envy — modern, best man and maid of honor au (cho x marcus flint)

“You and Cho—my best and dearest and most precious friend in the world, Cho—you know each other, don’t you?” Marietta asks, just a bit too sweetly.

There’s a beat of awkward silence, then, and Cho very responsibly avoids the heavy, frantic weight of Marcus’s gaze, which has suddenly—coolly—intently—snapped over to her.

“so it starts at the tail end of the war...” by @provocative-envy — canon divergent au (cho x marcus flint) 

“i don’t want to get away,” she tells him, wincing at the strain on her vocal chords. “this is–this is it, can’t you feel it? this is how it ends.”

good behavior by @provocative-envy — canon divergent, postwar au, also the sequel to the above drabble (cho x marcus flint)

Well, his “muggle integration counselor” needs to be able to find him.

“marcus flint knows a lot about destruction...” by @provocative-envy — high school au (cho x marcus flint)

“I’m bad at math,” he blurts out, jaw working as he folds his arms over his chest. He feels defensive. Frustration prickles a familiar dance across his scalp. “This is, like, my third time taking trig. They always—I get lost when that fucking—when the circle thing with the dotted lines shows up.”

tick tick boom by @provocative-envy — superhero au (cho x marcus flint)

Cho Chang now works for the nonprofit across the street, a legal defense fund for superheroes who aren’t lucky enough to have corporate sponsors or full-fledged PR teams.

Marcus sees her, occasionally.

heads or tails * by @provocative-envy — thief acquaintances au (cho x marcus flint)

“We aren’t jack shit, sweetheart,” she mimics obnoxiously. “Yes, I know.”

His nostrils flare. “What’s the fucking problem, then?”

flying before falling by andtheyfightcrime — canon compliant (cho x cedric diggory)

Cho sniffs, "Maybe we just think there's more to hello than sticking your tongue down someone's throat." Cedric groans at that and says, "You shatter my illusions, Chang. We could have been in Hufflepuff together."

fifty ways by andtheyfightcrime — canon compliant (cho x cedric diggory)

Being in like with Cedric is a lot like being friends with him, only with more private smiles and demure nods.

big head boy by @cocoartistwrites — university au (cho x percy weasley)

She makes him nervous, with her shiny hair and her firm, straight brows and her piercing dark eyes and the haughty way she argues with him, and how she slams everything he says, how she sounds like his sister, Ginny, sometimes, when Ginny hears him talking, how assured she is, how angry, how sometimes she argues with their tutor – their brilliant, famous tutor – once, memorably, calling him an outdated sexist pig and –

“the thing about cho chang...” by @provocative-envy — zombie survival au (cho x cormac mclaggen)

Out of everyone? Back at camp? That he could’ve gotten trapped in a fucking abandoned Bass Pro Shop with? While a horde of fucking razor-talon zombies mashed their rotting gray faces up against the tastefully organized display windows?

Cho Chang would not have been Cormac’s first choice.

the sweet spot by @provocative-envy​ — modern, celebrity au (cho x cormac mclaggen)

His smile is authentic in ways that she doubts he’s aware of, in ways that she doubts he’s even capable of understanding, and it unnerves her a little bit, having all that energy, all that intensity, all that smug, self-fulfilling excitement directed right at her, totally unfiltered.

hiding in plain sight by @mxrcusflint — high school au (cho x cormac mclaggen)

Cormac McLaggen, she thinks, has probably broken more hearts than earned A’s.

descent (or how to stop being a national hero) by watername — canon divergent au (cho x viktor krum if you squint, but also not really)

At the second task, when the competitors dive beneath the lake, he drums his fingers against the railing and wonders what kind of person inspires such loyalty.

when the lights go out by thatdarkhairedgirl — second war resistance au (cho x viktor krum)

He missed her. He’s known her for less than a year and he missed her.

flights of fancy by namelessamelie — canon divergent au (cho x draco malfoy)

“You don’t have to defend him,” he interrupted, cutting her off. “Potter’s not as wonderful as he’d have everyone believe, and you know that better than anyone.” Then, before he’d fully thought it through, he added impulsively, “One hero isn’t a replacement for another.”

caught by blood sugar love — canon divergent, postwar, rebellion au (cho x draco malfoy)

Cho blinks. "I mean... I-I sit, and I think about it. How much you've ruined everything. It's really amazing, when I tally it all up. How much you owe. Especially if your father dies."

the sporting life * by blythely — canon divergent au (cho x pansy parkinson)

Cho wins but it's probably because on the last match point Pansy is looking at Cho rather than at the ball.

seeking * by Gelsey — postwar, ministry au (cho x charlie weasley)

“Fucker,” she said, righting her clothes in quick, economical movements, though her hands were trembling. She tossed her hair.

a moment’s silence (happens grace, happens sweet) by disinclinant — second war order au (cho x charlie weasley)

“I’ve no idea who you are,” Charlie replies, amused and vaguely charmed by this explanation of how she knows him through the process of elimination.

moon walk * by @provocative-envy — modern au (cho x antonin dolohov)

She stares at him for a minute, blatantly astonished and visibly apprehensive, and then she blushes. Hard. Gnaws on her lower lip and sweeps her eyes from his face to his chest and—very, very quickly—even lower.

even the score * by themidnightguardian — olympics au (cho x ginny weasley)

It’s a tepid rivalry at best—something that’s fierce on the field and almost entirely absent off it—and they’ve only spoken a handful of words to each other since their college days, but when it comes to women’s soccer, the Chang-Weasley rivalry is the hot gossip because it’s the only gossip.

Which is why twitter loses its shit when they both make the Olympic team.

that’s what she said by @provocative-envy — hockey au (cho x ginny weasley)

“Hey, why don’t you like me?”

Cho’s face twitches oddly. Defensively. “Why don’t I—excuse me?”

playing favourites by Slumber — postwar, healer au (cho x oliver wood)

The first time Cho catches Oliver Wood wandering St Mungo's ward nowhere near his own, he at least has the grace to look embarrassed.

[gwynbleiddyn]

69 q's time!!! Mio 31, 20, and 45; Kve(th)a 48, 60, and 67

i love beefy discussions lets go

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ maahes ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

31. do they respond well to praise? how about criticism?

he drinks up praise like good wine; endlessly and without complaint. who doesn't enjoy being validated? and i don't think there's anything deeper here for mio -- as much as amun pushed him, he also had praise for him, it was not something entirely lacking in his life. and if not from amun, then absolutely from other people -- his mother, friends, random nobles of the court, all manner of visitors...

criticism is usually brushed off. there's nothing that mio hasn't heard before, near enough, so any offense taken is minimal and his acknowledgement even less. the only criticism he would take note of by choice is going to be something from someone whose opinion he values, and the response largely depends on the deliverance of said criticism lol if he's in a tense situation, he's probably going to bite back before he settles down and listens.

20. what attracts them to someone—platonically and/or romantically, anything counts.

when mio first arrived in-campaign, he definitely sought out the people who he couldn't necessarily keep. it was much easier to be a moment in someone else's lifetime than it was to consider commitment, and he still felt validated in the process. more so if they were grumpy or aloof, deliberately putting space between themselves and the rest of the world -- mio enjoyed feeling wanted specifically by these people, because they didn't seem to want anything else.

now, he's feeling more and more estranged by his love of pelor and sehanine than ever, even though it's also driving him to new heights at the same time. it's like the further from the ground he gets, the less he finds in common with those around him. so he finds it attractive when people are driven by the divine, because he knows he can relate to them -- and that's what he wants, a true connection where he's allowed to be vulnerable about things that are soul-deep to him, without the worry of being misunderstood or thought to be a zealot or something. he also finds competence attractive both in friends and partners -- and that's not like, "competence in LIFE" bc who has that bro wtf, it's more someone having a skill they're really good at, it means they're driven by something and it's a draw to him.

aesthetically and romantically, mio can find pretty much anyone attractive tbh there aren't specific features or types he enjoys, and i think he's fallen into the habit of not seeing people as Things like he was. generally he prefers masculine presenting folk, but even then it's kinda hand-wavey.

45. what lies do they tell themselves?

that he's a king, that he's going to be of some importance back home, that there's some glory left waiting for him and his triumphant return -- he knows that ship literally sailed the day he left akhen, but it's a necessary lie that burdens him with just the right amount of duty. otherwise it would be so easy to let his family keep on thinking that he's dead and gone, even if he lives the next ten thousand years watching every rise and fall of that city and his indirect descendants from across the ocean.

i think he also lies about what he wants, and often. sometimes it's to keep other people happy, and sometimes it's because letting people know what he really wants would give them cause to stop him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ kveða ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

48. do they relate to anyone in their group? conversely, which person do they relate to the least?

off the top of my head, i can't think of anyone other than viktor that he really relates to. and that link is tenuous at best -- kve sees himself as "other" and to a point, believes that viktor is also different, but he's realizing more and more that it's because he's never seen viktor's culture or clan, and not for any other reason. so it's him unlearning his own bias LOL otherwise, by intentional design, kveða does not relate to anyone else in the party on anything other than superficial levels (an understanding of the clans shared with Hyrr, a style of fighting shared with Siggri, a love of drink and conversation shared with Arsen, and an interest in fantastical stories and tattoos shared with Tor, in a way)

which kind of answers the latter half of the question: EVERYONE. but how much of that distance is self imposed? it's hard to say

60. what do they have faith in? what keeps them believing?

god this is such an empty question for kve because he truly feels hollow.

he finds life easy enough to enjoy - there's drinking, there's fighting, there's simple pleasures that fulfil the most basic and fundamental desires of a mortal vessel but it just feels like there's no soul that drives it. it's why he's so keen to find a way out - the longer he stays on this plane, the more he feels he's been carved away from the inside.

he believes he'll find rest if he's gone, basically. but he refuses to do it without honour, or some touch of glory to follow him out.

67. do they consider themselves to be special?

special, no. "other," yes, very much so. it's a hard thing to describe, but it's a kind of dysphoria, in a sense? he's so unlike what everyone else around him seems to be, and his ideal self has been formed by that environment, so of course he feels like he doesn't fit at all.

[loving-daisy]

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist 

Chapter 7 - Make Your Rain Fall 

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: none

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

As if I don’t know anything, I will stay by your side then at the end, break your heart 

Hours passed after supper at the Great Hall, Y/N Icestone alongside her best friend, Daphne, was seated at the leather couch in front of the fireplace inside the Slytherin Common Room. The common room was colder than usual, thus the reason for getting close to the fire. Y/N had her head leaned on the raven-haired girl’s shoulder who was reading gossip from a certain wizard magazine. A white fleece blanket was wrapped around her body as she stared at the window glass that separated the room from the species in the Black Lake. 

Despite all the hints the Slytherin gave to her Gryffindor, it seems like not a single one was taken. He’s more stupid that I thought, Y/N contemplated. 

Daphne scoffed, closing the magazine before looking down at her best friend. “Can you believe this rubbish? This quidditch star just dumped his girlfriend because he became famous. Turns out, he didn’t need the money anymore, seeing that he has landed a good paying job. What a git.” She muttered, shaking her head from left to right. 

“Parallel situations going on in here, don’t you think?” said Pansy Parkinson, a 4th year Slytherin who was also in Draco’s year, said, absentmindedly revealing that she was eavesdropping and that she knew about the Icestone-Weasley relationship going on. 

Y/N rolled her eyes on the comment, deciding to still remain quiet and let Daphne handle the young Slytherin. “Didn’t your father ever tell you that it’s rude to butt into a conversation?” Daphne sneered, obviously irritated. 

Pansy just gave a small shrug before proceeding on replying “I mean, it’s kind of obvious isn’t it? Weasley is poor, Icestone is not.” 

This caused Icestone to snap out of Daphne’s shoulder and face the girl. “What the hell did you just say?” She said in a threatening voice, a scowl in her features being displayed. Once again, Pansy gave another shrug, this time, a smug one. “Just stating the obvious. I mean, a fact is a fact right?” 

“The fact that you put your nose in somebody else’s business speaks a lot about you.” Daphne commented. “Well...I guess you can say the same to most of the people here in Hogwarts.” replied Pansy. 

Y/N stood up from the couch she was sitting on, brushing her uniform before blankly looking at Daphne. “Come, Daph. I don’t want to be out here any longer.” She called before briefly walking towards their shared dorm room.

____________________

Y/N sat in front of her big vanity mirror, brushing her lustrous hair after she washed up and changed into her satin nightgown. 

There was one thing her eyes were focused on, and no, it wasn’t her hair nor her appearance. It was on the single diamond that was seated simply yet classically on her chest, the Icestone jewel. 

She abruptly stopped with her actions, narrowing her eyes on the glowing stone before turning around to her best friend who just came out of the bathroom. 

“Daphne.” She called. 

“Yes?” the raven-haired girl answered, stopping in front of Y/N as she dried her hair. 

Icestone only gave the girl a smirk, hundreds and millions of thoughts running wild inside her mind. Daphne stopped in her tracks and placed both her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised towards Y/N. “You have a plan, don’t you?” She suggested. 

Y/N’s smirked converted into a mischievous smile. She turned her back towards Daphne, facing the vanity mirror again as she grabbed on her night cream. “Oh you must be mad if you think that I’m just gonna let go of it easily. I won’t. And that’s that.” She hinted, making the raven-haired girl get closer to stand behind her. 

Through the reflection of the mirror, Y/N saw the confused yet excited look on her best friend’s face. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that...” Daphne trailed off as she placed a hand on Icestone’s shoulder.  

Y/N placed a hand on top of Daphne’s. “You must know me, Daphne. I always finish what I started.” She proclaimed, dropping her hand to her lap. “I’m gonna continue.” She stated. 

“Continue...what exactly?” Daphne questioned, slightly still confused yet a glint of sparkle was in her eyes. “You’re going to continue what I’m currently thinking of right now, aren’t you?” She tried to confirm. 

The seated girl merely nodded, her grin bigger than ever. “I’m gonna continue what I started last year. My plan. Didn’t I tell you before?” 

Excitedly, Daphne nodded before pulling the seated girl to a big embrace from behind, jumping up and down from joy. “Finally! Weasley’s gonna get so-” 

“Y/N?” A small voice interrupted, the figure flying past Daphne and landing on top of the vanity. “Yes? What is it, Mira?”

Looking closer at the small winged-fairy, Mira had an uncomfortable look on her face, unsure whether to deliver the news to Y/N. She hummed, getting down on her knees as she sat on her heels and placed her small hands above her thighs. “Tell me, Mira.” Y/N encouraged, a concerned look enveloping her face. 

“Outside...uhm...someone’s looking for you.” Mira manages to blurt out, nervous of her action’s outcome. Y/N gave a nod, still waiting for her fairy to give her more details about the outsider. After a few seconds of waiting, she asked. “Who is it?”

“George Weasley.” Mira muttered, earning a small gasp from Daphne who was now seated on the small powder-blue couch situated inside their shared dorm room, flipping through the letters both of them received. 

“Are you going to meet him?!” The raven-haired girl asked, dropping the letters on the tea table. Calmly, Icestone gave her a nod, her lips turning up to give a small smile. With a flick of her wand, black sweatpants and a matching black jacket was placed on top of her baby pink nightgown. 

“Yes, of course. How will I go with the plan if I don’t execute it? A plan can’t always be a plan, Daphne. You have to take action. I guess mine goes back on track right at this moment. See you later.” 

____________________

Y/N managed to spot the ginger a few walks away from the common room, effortlessly hiding behind a small statue. Though her heart was beating like it wanted to come out, she managed to walk towards her boyfriend in a calm, quick yet quiet way. 

“George?” She quietly called out as she tapped the tall boy’s shoulder. When he turned to face her, he gave her a wide smile causing Y/N’s heart to beat even faster. If that was possible. 

Trying not to break her façade, she crossed her arms above her chest as she raised a brow towards the Gryffindor. “What are you doing here?” She questioned, the tone of her voice showing how she was unamused. 

“Well, I got hungry so I snuck into the kitchens to steal some cookies.” George confessed, scratching the back of his neck. 

Before Y/N was able to nag, the ginger quickly added “I figured you would have wanted some. I am aware of your love for chocolate afterall and it turns out, the cookies were chocolate chips!” He exclaimed, showing the bag of cookies that was hidden inside his robe pockets. 

Icestone felt like melting on the spot. 

Forcefully grabbing the pack inside the ginger’s robes, Y/N joined George in ducking behind the small statue as she impatiently opened the bag and grabbed a bite. 

“Woah- Woah! Calm down, Y/N! What if these cookies were products of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes? Merlin! You really trust me like that, don’t you?” George teased, concerned yet relaxed for the Slytherin’s behavior. Only, it lasted for a few seconds as the girl froze in front of him, her eyes focused on the cookie that she was clutching with her hand. 

Her eyes immediately found the boy’s, in which she gave her stone cold glare. “George!” She complained, huffing as she shoved the ginger’s shoulder. 

“What?” George asked, a concerned look all around his features. “Is something wrong? I was only joking about these being our product! These aren’t it, I swear to Godric! Are you-”

“These are raisins!” The girl cried, giving another shove. George replied with a sheepish smile. 

One thing for sure was that even if the ginger failed to distinguish raisins from chocolate chips, the Slytherin still finished everything that was in the bag. And in the course of forcing the sweets down her throat, she had one thing, 2 meanings, on her mind: This is going to be harder than I thought.

____________________

“Aisu ston!” A deep voice called out, causing Y/N Icestone to stop in her tracks to find the owner. She knew who it was from and she was happy that they remained friends even if they barely saw each other. 

“Krum.” She greeted him with a charming smile. The Bulgarian gave a small smile, eyes traveling their surroundings before giving his full attention towards the girl in front of him. He clasped his hands together behind his back before slightly bending down to be in level with the Slytherin. “Or you bizzy?” He asked with a quiet tone. 

Y/N raised a brow due to Krum’s peculiar behavior. She could see how the boy was nervous and uneasy and it wasn’t like him at all. At least that’s what she knows over the course of years that she has known him. “Busy? Not at all. I was just headed to the dungeons to take a nap. Why?”

The Bulgarian gave another small smile, eyes darting around their surroundings before continuing to seek his intentions towards the Slytherin. “So...yor fwend…” He trailed off, unsure how to ask. 

“Daphne?” Y/N suggested. Krum shook his head in response. “No, not Dap knee. Da won ol waze in da lie burary.”

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion, thinking hard on who in her circle of friends like to spend their time in the library. All she could think about was Theodore Nott, a Slytherin who was in the same year as Draco, someone that she knew because of the pureblood gatherings her parents attend. But they weren’t really friends and she didn’t think that he was the one Viktor was pertaining to either. “I don’t think I have friends who are always in the library…”

“But you do! I zaw you wit her in da hall...za won reading book.”

The Slytherin smirked, her mind visualizing the only witch she knew who would have carried a book with her always. “Curly hair?” 

Viktor thought for a while, visualizing the girl from his memories before nodding. “Yes.”

“Hmm…” Granger. “I guess you can say that we’re...acquaintances. Why?” The girl inquired, a teasing look on her face causing the boy to flush pink on the cheeks. 

“Wot iz er name?” He asked. 

Y/N displayed a wide smile on her face, happy for Viktor to finally get interested in a girl. When they were young, he would always suggest that romance is cheesy and that he never sees himself being in love with anyone at all. I guess the tables have turned. “Hermione Granger. She’s from Gryffindor.” Replied Y/N. 

The Bulgarian nodded, trying to pronounce the Gryffindor’s name in his head a couple of times to remember. “Thanks.” He muttered, offering a small smile.

Y/N crossed her arms, raising a brow towards Viktor to give him a small interrogation. “Why are you asking?” 

The boy shrugged in response. “Nothing.” He denied but the pink on his cheeks gave his denial off. 

“You think she’s pretty, do you?” The girl suggested, poking the boy in his sides to tease him. Krum coughed in response before displaying a fond smile. “Beautiful.” He admitted, his eyes lighting up as he said so. 

George Weasley, who was hiding at the next corner of the hallway, scoffed before walking away.

____________________

The next morning, as Y/N headed to the Great Hall for the day’s first feast, the second she stepped foot up above the Slytherin dungeons, she felt a pair of hands drag her arm to a secluded corner. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, huffing. The girl pulled herself away from the man, annoyed as she attempted to straighten her Slytherin robes to look put together like she usually is. When she looked up to spit some spiteful words towards the man, it was as if her tongue held itself back after her eyes landed on a familiar tall ginger. 

Like the Slytherin, George Weasley wasn’t so friendly at this moment. He had a scowl on his face, clearly bothered by something Y/N is yet to know. 

The Gryffindor crossed his arms. “Care to tell me how you know Krum?” He asked calmly, the tone of his voice being in contrast to the annoyed look that he had on his face. 

Immediately, something clicked in the girl’s mind that made her display a smirk, mirroring the boy’s crossed arms. “He’s a family friend.” She admitted. “Now, if you would excuse me, I don’t really want to deal with your foul behavior so early in the morning. I should head to breakfast.” She said, escaping the boy’s blocking figure to continue her route towards the Great hall. 

The boy groaned, following the girl by walking side by side. “How?” He inquired, still greatly annoyed. 

Y/N gave another shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. My father has a lot of friends.” 

In response, George groaned, not getting the answer he expected. “Okay.” He muttered. 

Silence fell in their atmosphere as they walked. And it was awkward because George was never this quiet when he was with Y/N. Y/N also wanted to push further, seeing that the annoyed look on the boy’s face as well as his inquiry about the Bulgarian Quidditch player gave the information of how he saw their encounter and got jealous of the boy. “What’s wrong?” She questioned, her tone soft. 

The boy huffed in response. “I just think that he doesn’t see you as a friend.”

“Me?” The girl seeked clarification, the boy answering with a single nod. Y/N let out a laugh. “Why do you think so?” She asked. 

Again, George huffed as a response, the laugh Y/N let out provoking his annoyance even further. “Don’t be daft. I saw you flirting with him in the hallways yesterday. Rather, he was flirting with YOU!” He accused. “Calling you beautiful and stuff…” He muttered, his eyes landing on the floor to avoid the piercing eyes of the girl. 

The Slytherin let out another amused laugh. “Friends can’t compliment each other?” 

“I think he intended on something more than just a compliment.” The Gryffindor pointed out.

“If I didn’t know better, but I do, I do know better, I wouldn’t think that you’re jealous over Viktor Krum.” She suggested, trying to get the boy to admit his true feelings. 

George let out a scoff. “Me? Jealous? As if! He might be a professional Quidditch player but I’m the best beater around this era of the Gryffindor team! Scratch that, I’m the best beater in Hogwarts today. So no, I am not at all jealous of Viktor Krum.” 

The Slytherin faked a cough in disbelief. “But it seemed like that to me.”

“Not everything you see is true.” George pointed out.

“Exactly, George. Not everything is what it seems! He wasn’t complimenting me, he was complimenting your friend.” Y/N informed. George, still not taking any of it, continued to rage. “And who is this ‘friend’? You?”

Y/N leaned closer to the tall ginger to whisper. “No. Granger.” 

“Granger?!” He clarified, shock written all over his face. Y/N nodded in response. “Yeah.”

“You’re kidding.” The Gryffindor accused, still not believing the Slytherin. The girl raised a brow in annoyance. “Do I look like I am?” 

The shocked look on the boy’s face was replaced with amusement. “Merlin! Ron is gonna flip!” He howled, now smiling from ear to ear after he got closure that the Bulgarian didn’t fancy his girlfriend. Also because of the fact that things just got interesting for his younger brother but that’s another story. 

“What do you mean?” The Slytherin asked, confused. 

George let out a giggle. “Git is too scared to admit his feelings for the girl and now he’s gonna compete with bloody Viktor Krum.” 

“Woah.” Y/N managed to react as her mind was flying elsewhere after they turned to the hall where the doors of the Great hall is placed. Her eyes travelled to find her raven-haired best friend, who was waiting outside with crossed arms. “Things just got so interesting.” She muttered.

This time, it was the Gryffindor's turn to get confused. “What do you mean?” 

The girl shrugged in response. “Nothing. You know, just the love triangle.” She said nonchalantly. “Gotta go. See you later!” She announced, walking faster. 

“No kiss?” In response, Y/N sent him a small flying kiss before turning away and secretly making a face towards Daphne, who was now sneering. 

George groaned. “I was expecting something more than that.” He muttered. 

____________________

Later that day, as Y/N headed back to the dungeons to fetch her extra ink bottle, she was bothered once again by a certain ginger.

“Psst! Icestone!” He whispered-yelled. Y/N stopped in her tracks to turn to look towards the voice that called her, raising a questioning brow before crossing her arms above her chest. “Care to tell me why you’re down here in the dungeons?” 

“It’s George.” Fred said, a feigned worried look plastered all over her face. Y/N mirrored his facial expression, although faux like Fred’s, seeing that the boy was lying to her. “What about him?” She inquired. 

A smirk spread all over the ginger’s face. “You see, that I can’t tell.” He teased, causing Y/N to display an annoyed look. “Why start a conversation about him then?” 

“You are too stubborn for your own good.” Fred pointed out. “But-“

Before Y/N was able to spite, she got interrupted by Fred. “As I was saying, before I got rudely interrupted by a certain someone-“ 

This time, it was Fred who got interrupted. “Rudely interrupted? Me?” Y/N asked, pointing to herself as she gave a displeased look towards the boy. 

“George wanted me to give you this.” Said the ginger, ignoring Y/N’s glare. 

Y/N took the small rolled parchment, examining it. “What’s this?” She asked, earning a groan. 

“Quite obvious, isn’t it?” Fred pointed out. 

The Slytherin sneered. “Geez I didn’t know you worked part-time as an owl Freddie. Where’s your wings though?” She teased. 

The boy scoffed. “Owl? Me? If I were to be compared to a thing with wings, it definitely wouldn’t be an owl. You see, I’m an angel-“ 

“Angel?!” The girl said, unamused. “Well, you don’t look like one.” 

“Why? Do I have to be naked to look like one?” Fred suggested, raising a brow. “Oh, Icestone. I don’t think my brother would be pleased to know that-“ 

Y/N scoffed in response, holding her hand out, motioning for the boy to stop. “Oh please. You’d probably look like hell.” 

“Because I’m hot?”

“Because you look like a dump.” She teased before finally entering the dungeons and making her way towards her space. As she entered her room, she immediately laid with her stomach on her soft mattress to take the red ribbon off and open the piece of parchment. 

I love you. - G.W

The Icestone scoffed, failing to hide the grin forming in her face. “That’s it?” She muttered in disbelief, shaking her head from left to right. 

“That’s what?” 

Startled by the voice, Y/N looked up to see Daphne. She shook her head in response. “Nothing. I didn’t notice you came in.” 

The dark haired girl displayed a smirk. “Probably because you were too busy ogling over that note you got there. It’s probably from Weasley, isn’t it?” 

Y/N nodded as a response, sitting up to properly face the girl. “Correct.” 

“Huh” Daphne let out, shaking her head afterwards before pointing her finger towards the hand that held the note. “Whatever that is, don’t you think that...you don’t have to wait any longer to conclude your plan?” She suggested. 

“Why not?” Icestone asked. 

Daphne shrugged, making her way towards their shared vanity mirror to fix her hair. “I mean, he’s practically in love with you! Everyone in the school knows that! You even told me that he said it multiple times now. Breaking his heart now wouldn’t make much difference if you break his heart tomorrow.” 

“Oh but Daphne...that’s the thing. It makes much more difference because it's going to make it linger. That way, he won’t get up easily. He won’t forget what he did to me.” Y/N explained, her reply causing Daphne to turn towards her with a serious expression. 

“You’re lying.” Daphne pointed out. Y/N shot an offended look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m not stupid. I know you. I know you’re fueled with hatred, thus, the reason for your revenge plan going on but...you don’t want to end it now because you love him, don’t you?” 

The Icestone heir scoffed, looking away. “I don’t love him-”

Daphne waved a hand, not believing any of her best friend’s excuses. “I guess you…” She trailed off. “I guess you want to have this thing going on for a while before...hmm.” The raven-haired girl suggested, stopping midway to not bring up the topic Y/N was pushing away for quite a while now.  

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping before fully laying on her bed to face the ceiling. “Daphne, once again, you are right.” She admitted. “I just...wanna feel loved you know? I mean, for once in my life I want to experience what it feels like to be loved and to be in love with someone that overlooks...well, all of me. I don’t think I’ll experience this feeling after I finish my time in Hogwarts.” 

Daphne laid beside the Icestone heir, mirroring her position. ”I get what you’re trying to say but don’t you think it will be less painful for you if you end this now? I mean, I’m sure this ‘linger’ thing that you’re trying to imply won’t only affect the Gryff. It will linger for you too.” 

____________________

Y/N sneaked herself out of the Slytherin common room after finding out from her fairy, Mira, that a certain Weasley twin was waiting for her outside. The happenings felt like Deja vu. Only this time, she had a different feeling. She was troubled. 

“Cookie?” George offered, showcasing the bag of cookies he got from the Kitchens. Y/N groaned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I swear in Salazar’s name that if your cookies are raisins, I’m gonna feed you to the species outside the Slytherin common room.” She threatened, grabbing the bag. 

The Gryffindor shivered. “Isn’t the Slytherin common room under the black lake? What if the giant squid eats me?!” 

The girl merely shrugged, not paying attention to the boy as she struggled to open the bag. As she reached into her pocket to grab her wand, to no avail, she remembered not grabbing it from her nightstand before going out to meet George. So, she looked up at him, handing him the bag. “Can you open this?” 

George grinned, picking it up from her hands to open it before placing it back on the girl’s hands. “I promise, I double-triple checked it this time! Those are chocolate chips, not raisins!” He reasoned, now unsure of his analysis. 

In response, the Slytherin raised a brow, grabbing a piece of cookie from the bag to place it in her mouth. The second the flavor spread, she displayed a furrowed brow, glaring at the Gryffindor. 

George let out a nervous laugh. “Well, I got you your cookies so I think I’m gonna go-” 

“I’m just kidding! It is a chocolate chip. Thank you, Georgie!” Y/N beamed, grabbing another sweet. In response, the boy smiled from ear to ear, both his hands placing itself on the girl’s cheeks to pinch it. 

“Hey! Get your hands off me, please. I am eating.” The girl complained, swatting the boy’s hands away. George let out a small laugh, fondly looking at his Slytherin. 

The playful atmosphere suddenly became serious after Y/N pierced her cold-but-warm-like eyes towards the boy’s. “I hope I never found out that you’re someone else, George. Because I love you, just as you are.” She admitted. 

The heart of the ginger leaped out in joy. “You do?”

Y/N gave him a nod. “I do.” 

____________________

Saturday evening, the Icestone heir was found at the leather couch in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin dungeons. 

“Y/N.” A familiar voice softly called. 

“Draco.” Y/N acknowledged, briefly glancing up to look at the 4th year. 

“May I?” The boy asked, his eyes landing on the vacant spot beside the Icestone. The girl simply nodded in response before turning her attention back to the transfiguration homework in front of her. The boy awkwardly sat at the leather couch, hands clasped together on his lap as he turned his attention towards the girl who barely acknowledged his presence. 

After a few minutes of silence, Draco awkwardly coughed, earning the attention of the Icestone, who raised a brow in anticipation. The blonde Slytherin ran his fingers through his hair, thoughts running everywhere in his head. Something was off with the Malfoy heir today. First he kindly approaches Y/N Icestone in the common room then asks to sit with her and now he goes and initiates a conversation to which he doesn’t seem like his usual confident and cheeky self.   

“Look, about last summer…” He trailed off, grey eyes piercing Y/N’s. 

Icestone closed her eyes for a few seconds before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Save it, Draco. I don’t really want to talk about it.” She muttered before shaking her head to shake off her thoughts. 

“Are you...still with Weasley?” The blonde boy carefully asked. 

Y/N’s face contorted into a sneer before finally closing her transfiguration book to fully turn her attention towards the Slytherin boy. “What’s it to you, anyways? We still have a couple of years.” She stated, slightly getting annoyed as she has to go through this conversation once again. That is, with a different person this time. Not to mention the Malfoy heir. 

“I get it but are you aware?” He asked. 

The sneer on the Icestone’s face was replaced by a look of confusion. “Aware of what?” She inquired. 

“What he’s been doing to you.” Draco replied, his reply causing the girl to scoff and cross her arms. “Don’t tell me you know about that too.” She muttered, the thoughts she shook off earlier coming back now. 

“I do. I heard them once.” Draco informed. “I’m sorry.” 

What? Icestone looked at Malfoy with disbelief. Why is he suddenly acting so nice towards me? “Why are you acting weird?” She asked, half joking, half serious. 

“I’m not acting weird.” Draco denied. “I just care for you.” He reasoned. 

“All of a sudden?” Y/N seeked, still not convinced. 

Draco gave a small nod, making eye contact with the girl to show that he was being sincere. “I’ve always cared about you. I knew longer than you think. That was why…” He paused for a moment to carefully think of his words. “That was why I kept on bothering you.” 

“Oh...I didn’t notice. I thought that you just had fun annoying other people with your arrogant presence.” The girl teased, bumping her shoulder to the boy’s to lighten up the mood. Draco’s face contorted into a small sneer. 

“But why?” Y/N asked. “Why not do something about it?” 

“I don’t think I have a choice, do I?” He answered. Y/N hummed in response, nodding in agreement.  

Malfoy broke the brief silence. “I guess...we should work it out as early as now, don’t you think? I’m kinda tired of always quarrelling with you.” 

Y/N beamed in surprise, her eyes shrinking due to her lips curling. “Woah...who are you and what in Merlin's name did you do to Draco Malfoy?” She further teased, poking the arms of the blonde boy before bursting into laughter. Draco laughed with her. 

The other Slytherins in the common room were surprised to hear Draco Malfoy laugh genuinely. It wasn’t like the evil annoying laugh that they heard when he went on to tease Harry Potter. What made them even more surprised was to see Y/N Icestone and Draco Malfoy finally getting along. Took them long enough. 

But then again, a few of them, or rather those who were in Draco and Y/N’s circle of friends like the Greengrass sisters, Zabini, Parkinson, and Crabbe and Goyle, knew the reason why. At least they’d both be on good terms before Draco finishes school. Blaise, seated at one of the couches with Pansy, thought. 

“So...friends?” Draco offered his hand in front of Y/N, his grey eyes hopeful. The girl’s soft hand met his, shaking it. Y/N nodded with a small friendly smile plastered around her face. “Friends.”

“How long did you know? About Weasley.” The boy inquired, curious as to why Y/N wasn’t doing anything about it when she could’ve hexed him or given the ginger a piece of her mind like she usually does when someone crosses her. 

“Last year, a few days after Gryffindor beat your ass in the quidditch finals.” She replied with another teasing directed towards the blonde. “Hey!” 

Icestone laughed at the boy’s offended look. “I mean, it’s not my fault you failed to catch the snitch right before Potter.” She added, once again poking Draco’s shoulders to tease him. 

After she calmed down, her face displayed a small smile. Innocent but mischievous. “Hey, but don’t worry. I have a plan and I think you’ll love it.” Y/N announced with confidence.   

Draco mirrored the look on her face. Well, not innocent but still, it was a mischievous look. “Well, in case you need any help. You know who to owl. Afterall, I am Draco Malfoy.” 

“Oh please. Your name is just as powerful as mine.” 

____________________

Upon hearing the sound of light footsteps that belonged to a certain Slytherin, George stood up from the space that he was seated on, greeting his girlfriend with a wide grin as he held his arms open for a hug. “Y/N. You’re here.” 

The Slytherin landed inside the Gryffindor's warm embrace, her cheeks planted on top of the ginger’s chest, where his heart was placed. “Well, you did tell me to meet you here.” Y/N said.

George nodded, looking down to face the girl. “Correct.” He muttered before breaking away their interconnected bodies to properly face her. Y/N had a blank expression plastered around her face but she was waiting in anticipation on what the Gryffindor would do next. Normally, there would be a picnic blanket under a basket of snacks on their usual spot where the stars are perfectly seen but the girl noticed that neither was present. There was no picnic blanket, no basket of snacks, and no stars. The sky was filled with grey clouds as if rain would be pouring soon. 

Additionally, George looked more serious than he usually was. Something was up and Y/N had mixed feelings about it. 

After a few more seconds of silence, the girl decided to speak. “Well...why?” She asked, doe-like eyes looking at the boy’s warm ones. But even the familiar warmth in the boy’s eyes was not in attendance. It was cloudy too. Clouded with trouble. 

George sighed. “Because I have a confession to make.” He admitted. 

The Icestone heir absentmindedly raised a brow because of the statement. She crossed her arms above her chest, resting her weight on one foot as she waited for the boy to continue. Her anticipation got stronger and stronger as time passed by. 

George let out another sigh. “I love you.” He unsurely uttered, resulting in Y/N replying with a snort. “You told me that a thousand of times already-”

“But I lied.” The Gryffindor butted in. 

The statement caused the Slytherin to stop in her tracks, her heart dropping to her stomach as nervousness consumed her. “What?” She inquired, now feeling very insecure and vulnerable. 

“I said ‘I love you’ but I lied.” The ginger admitted. “I don’t love you. In fact, I don’t even like you.” He announced, nose scrunching up with a face of disgust as he examined the girl from her head to her toes. In response, the girl pushed the boy’s shoulders as hard as she could, backing away from his tall presence. 

Y/N Icestone felt foreign and she didn’t like any of it. This was the first time that something like this ever happened to her because not once did she ever expect that some day in her life, the reason for her hurt would be from a Gryffindor boy. 

“What are you saying?!” She demanded. She was furious, enraged, and heart broken. She thought that George loved her. She thought her plan was fool-proof. She thought she implemented her plan really well. How can George Weasley not fall in love with her, Y/N Icestone? 

The ginger’s face contorted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fred? If you will.” 

Suddenly, the other half of the Weasley twins came into the light, standing side by side with his brother as he mirrored his crossed arms position. The girl felt even more furious. She was being humiliated in front of two Gryffindors! Not only are they Gryffindors, but they’re the Weasley twins! News would spread so fast. What would people think of her now? 

“What is he doing in here?!” She bellowed, both her fists clenching in anger. 

The older twin scoffed before displaying a sneer. “You see, Icestone. You just got pranked.” He informed. 

Tears started to gather in Y/N Icestone’s eyes. If it was possible, her heart sank deeper. She was feeling a lot of emotions and not one was a great feeling to experience. One thing for sure, right now, she was facing one of her greatest fears. Losing, failing, and disappointing herself. 

“What?” She asked in disbelief, her voice hoarse from trying to keep the tears falling. 

“You got pranked!” Fred happily howled before displaying a fake frown on his face. “You’re not deaf, aren’t you?” 

The girl shocked her head, backing further away until her back hit one of the walls in the Astronomy tower. Her right hand reached the diamond that she wore around her neck, fidgeting with it to calm herself down. She avoided the twin’s eyes, blinking once, twice, thrice, four times, five times, to evaporate the tears away. She was struggling to accept the events that had been unfolding in front of her. “I don’t get what you’re-” 

Y/N was cut off by Fred and George’s maniac laugh. “For an Icestone, you’re pretty stupid for your own good.” Fred pointed out. George nodded in agreement before giving the same examining look of disgust towards the Slytherin. “Shame. You do have a pretty face though.” He said.

Outside the Astronomy tower, thunder started growling. This can’t be happening. Y/N thought to herself. She still couldn’t believe that her initial plan to get George Weasley fall in love with her backfired and now she was the one heartbroken. But George. He told me he loved me. He showed me he loved me. How was that all just a lie? 

With all the courage the Slytherin has left, she gathered her strength to pierce her eyes towards the taller ginger’s. “George-” She called out before getting cut-off once again.  

“G-George-” The younger ginger mocked, laughing with his brother. “Can you believe this Fred? We really got the Y/N Icestone wrapped around my finger.” 

George walked closer towards Y/N, the girl feeling smaller and smaller as the boy got closer and closer. The ginger stopped in front of her, looking down at her with fake sympathy. “Honestly, Icestone. Who could love you? You’re nothing but a girl walking around this school like you built this bloody castle all by yourself. You’re not like the queen that you think you are, Y/N Icestone. You’re the ice queen and nobody even likes you! Also, let’s be honest. If you didn’t carry your Icestone name, you’d be a nobody.” 

Rain started pouring hard. “The only people who you can expect to love you are your parents! Oh wait, do they even pay attention to you? I heard pureblood fools like your parents go off and marry their daughters to some other pureblood bloke to get you off their hair!” Fred mocked, the twins cracking another manic laugh. 

“How dare you! I thought- I thought you were different!” The girl cried out. Hot tears freeing themselves, free falling down the apples of her cheeks like the rain falling as the storm commences.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Daphne, who had a worried look on her face, looked down at the girl as she laid on her bed, tears all over her face. The Icestone heir sat up, shock spreading all over her body as she realized that none of the events were true and that all was just a bad dream. A very bad dream.

The back of Daphne’s hand found its way to Y/N’s forehead, checking her temperature. When her diagnosis told her that the girl wasn’t sick, she sat beside Y/N before wiping the fallen tears of her best friend using her thumbs. “Are you okay? I heard you screaming.” Daphne asked, her eyes glossy as it is still full of sleep.  

“It was a dream…” Y/N muttered to herself, shaking her head before running her hands through her disheveled hair. The raven-haired girl merely nodded, grabbing to hold Y/N’s hand. “A bad one, it seems. Do you want to talk about it?” 

Y/N shook her head in response. “Maybe tomorrow. Sorry for the disturbance. You can go back to sleep, Daph. I promise, I’m okay.” She convinced both herself and her best friend. Daphne gave her a hug before heading back to her own bed, sleep immediately consuming her back. 

“You’re getting a taste of your own medicine, Weasley. I’m gonna make your rain fall.” Y/N thought to herself.

____________________

Monday evening came and a certain ginger was found moping as if he was a toddler whose privilege of eating candy was taken away. George didn’t see his Slytherin the whole day. They didn’t share classes so the chances of seeing her was slim but the fact that he didn’t see her in the Great hall for breakfast, lunch, nor dinner was worrying him to the point that he attempted to visit the Slytherin dungeons. If it weren’t for the Potions master talking to Gryffindor’s head of the house, he would have been able to sneak himself around that area. But he had no luck.  

Midnight almost came and he waited at the astronomy tower for hours, expecting the girl to show up to make it up to him. But then again, he had no luck. There was no sign of Y/N Icestone anywhere. He tried to count the stars, count his freckles, count the trees of the forbidden forest, and count whatever he could count just to make time pass as he continued to wait for Y/N. However, he gave up when he saw that the sky was getting clearer and clearer as the sun was about to rise.

When sleep-deprived George came back to the Gryffindor tower to get ready for the day’s breakfast, he noticed a deep red withered rose sitting on top of his bed. If it weren’t for the familiar black envelope with silver writings, he would’ve thought that someone was threatening him. But no, he knew it was from the girl he was dying to see all day. Everyday.

She must have sent it last night to give notice that she wouldn’t meet me at the tower. Too bad that the rose is withered already. He thought. 

With anticipation, George examined the withered rose, frowning for letting it wither before putting it down to grab the black envelope. Slowly and carefully, he opened the expensive paper, reading the note.  

Roses are red, violets are blue; 

When I said I loved you, none of it was true. 

Guess what, player? You have been played, too. 

Icestone 

A second after George read the little poem written, he felt the familiar sticky white cream thrown all over his face. 

End of Chapter 7

____________________

Author’s note: I’m back! I apologize for being M.I.A. I got caught up with life but I’m back now! 

Taglist: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina  @lilypad-55449  @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37 @bellaiscool @sukunas-cult-leader

[ask-2p-hetaliaaa]

So uh.. This is quite a long question, what if the 2ps (You may choose the characters for this scenario.) found out a friend of em is a vampire? What will they do? Whats their reaction?

//typing this one out as i feel it would be easier

2ps reacting to a vampire friend:

Allen: VISIBLY POGS, he thinks it's SO COOL !! He's a little bastard though so he'd probably joke around like "Ay wanna suck my blood ,':D", but he means well; He just finds you super fascinating!

Matt: Not that fazed. He thinks you're like a vampire bat. He also thinks you're immune to danger. You might want to inform him.

Francois: He doesn't care, but he is turned on. Unfortunate.

Oliver: At first, he's a bit concerned, thinking you may have been cursed! Then, he fears you might bite him. After getting used to the fact that you're just a normal vamp, he wants to know all about it! He'll ask Arthur if he knows anything about vampires (and will probably get told off), want to dress you up, he'll even offer to bake you treats with a little blood in them, if that's what you need.

Viktor: Asks you to turn him. Will get sad if you refuse.

Xiao: "So, can you like, snort blood? Or like, shoot it up? Can you fly? Turn invisible? So, what if I dragged you into sunlight? Would you go poof into dust?" Absolutely obnoxious, I would recommend not even telling him.

Luciano: Bluntly accepts the fact with an "Okay.", and goes back to work. He acts nonchalant and won't bring it up further, but will secretly be thinking about it all day. What are your capabilities? Could you cause harm? Do you drink blood, and if so, how much? How regularly? These questions will be burning in his mind, but he's too private to actually ask them.

Lutz: Essentially the same as Allen, except his first thoughts are the pervy ones, and the excitement comes after.

Kuro: Uh- I think Kuro may be a vampire himself, so he doesn't really care.

Gillen: He's a little shaken at first, knowing how Roland will react. (Because when you tell Gillen something, chances are, Roland will know too.) On top of that, he already has Roland pretending to be a vampire. At least he has a prior idea of what a human-vamp friendship is like.

Roland: Good luck with this one. He is ECSTATIC!!! Probably faints the first time you tell him. "Have my prayers been answered?? Or am I just the luckiest man on Earth??" Oh no, he just fell in love with you.

Egil: Asks you to start counting, because he is a fucking manchild. After he finishes the gimmicks, he'll ask to do something cliche, like walk around a graveyard at midnight.

Loki: Immediately asks you if fire hurts you, so he can stop using flammable shit around you. On Halloween, he goes all out. Dracula jack-o-lanterns, slow dancing to Thriller and Monster Mash, he'll even be down to do this all year. Dude loves fire. Dude loves jack-o-lanterns.

Magnus: Doubts you at first. "Vampires aren't real. 😐" You'll have to prove it to him, but he probably won't believe anything until you end up biting and/or turning him.

Thurston: "Um, okay? Get out, will you?" If you're his friend, you're probably the only one. And he has horrendous social skills. And he isn't the best person in the first place. He doesn't mean to be so dismissive and rude, but that's his default. He deeply regrets his words later.

Bernard: Immediate response is "YOOOOOOO!!!" Does laps around the room, then calms down and asks you to tell him the story from the very beginning; How did this start? What are the details? Does it last forever? Listens intently and is engaged in the conversation.

Hermes: Picks you up and RACES to his library, speedruns every book he owns in search for mythological vampires. He uses you as a fact-checker, and then criticizes the book for getting information wrong.

Caligula: "Alright." Man is probably a vampire too. Doesn't really care.

Germania: "Back in my time, we used to burn vampires at the stake! *cheerful laughter*" Then he realizes you're being serious. Awkward silence.

Franciszek: Puts 2 fingers on your neck for moment to feel for a pulse and the cold of your skin. Mildly intrigued.

Katya: Gleefully asks you to turn her! She mainly loves the aesthetic and glamour of vampires, and will use the new look to her advantage.

Anastasia: Smiles and says "Okay!" She asks what she can do for, such as safely collecting blood to sustain yourself, any redecorating in the house such as windows, curtains and mirrors, doing your makeup, reorganizing your schedule, etc.

Egor: This turbo virgin writes vampire fanfiction and will probably be gross about it. Same as Xiao, don't even tell him.

Raimonds: Laughs evilly because he thinks you'll be an evil, blood thirsty henchman for him. Smack him on the side of the head, he'll stop.

Leonas: Honestly, the Baltics are the worst with this, again, don't even bother telling them. Leonas is another doubter; "Yeah, right. *rolls eyes*" Doesn't bother listening after that.

Paul: "NO YOU'RE NOT, IDIOT-HEAD! STOP LYING!" Doesn't believe you until you flash your fangs at him, to which he freezes and starts bawling. Cries for Oliver. Gremlin little piss baby.

Scarlett: "Well, if 'at's the case, we should at least doll you up!" Insists on giving you a makeover to seem 'less intimidating'. She's young, so she doesn't understand this might not be what you want. But she means in it good faith.

Romeo: He's an eboy who watches the vampire diaries. He doesn't think vampires are real, but he thinks you're saying to impress him. It works, and he 'accepts' the fact you're a vampire, but probably not in the way you want him to.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

I managed to actually do that little scene for the royalty au :) I don’t know anything about how any of this stuff works so I literally just made everything up please don’t think I in any way tried to be accurate I’m talking out of my ass here.

I don’t know if anything will ever actually come of this, but this is an idea of what it would look like :)

~^~

Jens hates sitting in for Court. It’s less about the ‘criminals’ and more about the royals, the endless lines of knights and Lords and servants, eager to witness another fool. Jens doesn’t care much for fools, but he cares even less to laugh at them. He cares least for his formal attire, the sharp slacks and too-tight tunic, laced up by maids unable to even look him in the eye. They don’t even seem necessary. He’s overheating in his jacket, delicately buttoned up to the throat, the collar digging into his skin. He’d tried leaving the top hanging open, and it had hardly taken a second for his mother to give him a sharp glance, nodding to a maid that had hastily run to button it back up. Now he sits and suffocates and waits for whatever poor soul is being charged to make their way to the throne.

Jens straightens subtly in his chair, placed to the right side of his mother’s throne, and meets the boy’s eyes for half a second. Until his mother opens her mouth and orders a sharp, “Kneel.”

Before the boy can comply, one of the guards that had escorted him sets a heavy hand on his shoulder and forces him down, falling onto the stone floor in a manner that leaves Jens’s own knees aching in sympathy. The boy simply catches his breath and holds his chin high, looking straight at them and through, his jaw clenched. Jens drums his fingers on his knee in interest.

The same guard gives his head a forceful shove. “Speak your name to the Court.”

The boy takes a breath as some of his masqueraded confidence seems to slip. “Lucas. Lucas Van der Heijden.”

Jens licks his lips, cataloguing the sound of his voice, the way his mouth parts for an instant before the actual sound escapes. The name rumbles deeply around the room and seeps into the walls, encased in the brick in case it’s soon to be lost. Jens’s job is to watch, to note, and to only give judgement if asked. It often doesn’t take him long to form conclusions.

His conclusion of Lucas Van der Heijden is that he seems, at once, nothing and everything like a criminal.

He’s young, and clean cut, though his clothes are a tad too tight and an inch too short on his ankles, fraying at the hems. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, a familiar sandy mixture that Jens has seen on all hostages of the castle cells. There’s an innocence to his youth and a diligence to his posture. His eyes hold a pleading light and a resolute film. Whatever his crime in regards to the Crown, he holds a loyalty to someone.

“State his crimes,” the Queen requests.

The opposite guard stares straight ahead as he speaks up. “Thievery and dishonor to the Court, Your Majesty.”

Jens can barely hold back a snort. He relaxes slightly. There’s rarely a severe punishment for a loaf of bread. The scene before him suddenly makes more sense.

His mother’s tone, however, is unusually steely. “Thievery of what?”

“Sir Viktor’s sword, Your Majesty.”

Jens blinks. A rumble of interest spreads through the Court. Lucas’s jaw tightens and he gives a minuscule shake of his head, so much so that Jens is sure he’s the only one who notices.

The Queen seems equally intrigued. “And what, boy, do you want with a sword?”

“I didn’t steal it.” Lucas speaks through gritted teeth, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “I’ve never even seen the sword before.”

“It was found under his bed, Your Majesty, free of its sheath. Sir Viktor had been missing it for a full day before organising a search.”

Jens barely resists rolling his eyes. If Viktor had been missing it that long, he’s almost in need of a punishment himself. He’s known Viktor for only over a year, becoming acquainted with him long after he’d already met his brother, Senne. Senne’s loyalty and honour, that Jens has become easily familiar with during the man’s service in his personal guard, did not seem to emanate as clearly from his brother. Jens has had few pleasures of his presence, and pinned his discomfort down to this unfamiliarity. As he sees Lucas’s expression tighten further, however, there’s something that doesn’t sit quite right with him.

The feeling only strengthens as the Queen raises her head and stares Lucas down. “You’d do best to not add dishonesty to your list, Mr Van der Heijden. The proof sits against you. If you claim not to have stolen it, how do you suppose it ended up with you?”

Lucas swallows. For a tiny second, his gaze flits over to the crowd on his left. Jens follows his gaze and sees nothing that stands out. “I didn’t steal anything,” he repeats. “I’m an artist. I have no reason for a sword.”

“And yet,” the Queen says lightly, “there was one so close to you. Are you able to explain that?”

Jens comes to the realisation too late, after noticing the hard lines of his mother’s frown and the steel underlining the easiness of her voice. This isn’t a trial—this is merely the sentencing.

“Someone else must have placed it there,” Lucas says, just as light, with just as much steel underneath.

“I’m sorry, Mr Van der Heijden, truly, but the evidence against you is not something I can simply dismiss as a wrong guess. Do you have proof, of anyone else who may have had access to your quarters? Even so much as a theory.”

“It’s not hard,” Lucas laughs slightly, “to access my quarters. From the way your guards stormed my home yesterday without so much as a knock as a notice, that seems fairly clear.”

Jens raises his brows as the Queen lowers hers. “You’d do well not to speak out of turn, boy. Evidently, my guards had every right to rip your home to shreds if they so pleased.”

Jens looks at her in surprise. He knows his mother holds a firm and stern rule, but she has never shown herself to be cruel. Jens would never have expected her to so openly disregard the rights and welfare of her people. He supposes Lucas is good at pushing buttons, and he’s somehow managed to hit a number of her’s through their short interaction. Jens glances over Lucas again, his curls scattered and shoulders straight, and feels a stab of worry in his stomach.

Help yourself, Jens silently urges. Try to win her over. Don’t make it worse.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Lucas seems to force the words out, dragging them from himself as if he was being made to pull his own teeth. “My mother—I take care of her. I worried that she would have been harmed in the fray.”

Jens watches his own mother soften slightly before regaining her resolve. “While that’s admirable of you, it doesn’t truly explain your resistance. Your lies, Mr Van der Heijden, may only lead to further searches of your home in an attempt to confirm either your guilt or your innocence. Would you not, in that case, rather save your mother the trouble?”

Jens swivels his gaze back to Lucas, watching the low blow hit, cataloguing the way the boy’s own resolve crumbles.

Then he straightens, undeterred by the hand still tightly clasped on his shoulder. “My mother has no involvement, because neither do I. I’m not lying. I stole nothing.”

The Queen regards him for another long moment, as does Jens. Then she releases a heavy sigh. “I was hoping that your cooperation would provide an option for leniency. A true explanation may have lightened your sentence, but the proof against you is overwhelming. I cannot believe that you are free of intent to threaten the Crown, due to the unusual action of your crime. I fear I have no choice.” She stands from her throne and steps down from the dais, looming over Lucas in her heavy red robes and shimmering crown. “Lucas Van der Heijden, for the charges of thievery and dishonor to the throne, I find you guilty and sentence you to death.”

The murmur this time is of a much more extensive volume, but it isn’t quite enough to drown out Jens’s incredulous burst of laughter.

All eyes turn to him, and he feels his shoulders stiffen. Lucas’s gaze is most prominent, evidently confused, with eyes wide and disbelieving. His mother’s are equally surprised, though underlaid with anger. Jens does his best to ignore his discomfort under the attention and keep a princely smile on his face. “Since when do we sentence death without proof? For a kidnapping of a sword that wasn’t put to use, no less.”

The murmur that he’d silenced picks up again, and his mother raises an unimpressed brow at him. “The proof has been presented to you as it has been presented to me. Are you aware of evidence we are not?”

“I’m aware that there is a possibility, however slim, that he is telling the truth. Even if he had stolen it and intended to put it to use, the sword has been retrieved. He presents no real immediate threat. If anything, I believe he would have committed the crime as a scared boy with family he wishes to protect. Surely that is something any of us can understand. He may be deserving of punishment, yes, but death?”

The room has fallen into utter silence. Jens doesn’t dare look at any of the Court members, but he chances a glance at Lucas. The other boy is staring back at him, with all surprise now wiped from his face. He wears a carefully constructed blank expression, that doesn’t break as Jens looks back at him.

Jens doesn’t know why he feels such a strong urge to save him. But now that he’s started, he can’t bring his own argument to an end.

“So what else do you suggest?” His mother asks this at length, unwillingly. He shouldn’t have spoken out. It wasn’t his place. It isn’t good for her, he knows, to have her rule questioned in public by her own son. But he’d argued without thinking, looking at Lucas and feeling an inexplicable need to stand up for him.

To protect.

“It’s his loyalty in question, is it not?” Jens raises a brow and waits for her nod. “So let him prove it. I’m sure someone youthful and strong could have a place serving the Court.”

The murmur picks up again. Jens resists the urge to roll his eyes.

His mother stares at him. “Your suggestion is to allow him a position in the castle?”

“He couldn’t be placed under more watch,” Jens says simply. “I would rather taste someone’s loyalty and perhaps gain a better bond than let a life go to waste.”

This murmur sounds somewhat agreeable, though it is silenced the second the Queen raises her hand. “There are no positions in the Court up for offer, and I cannot possibly gift a thief the sword he’d stolen.”

Jens doesn’t even think before he says it. “I don’t have a personal servant.”

There is, surprisingly, no murmur. The room is eerily quiet as Jens and his mother stare each other down and Lucas flits his gaze between them. It’s not a lie, and is perhaps even the reason he’s doing this. He’s tired of fussy maids lacing his shirts and buttoning his coats and buckling his cuffs. His sisters both have maid-servants, while Jens is left with an array of strangers carrying out various duties, never even able to become familiar with faces as they avoid contact and conversation at all costs. He does his best to be amicable with the castle staff, to form relationships, to form bonds. But aside from the few close friends he sees only on occasion (sons of various Lords in various agreements with his mother), and a few chosen guards, Jens spends most of his time alone.

He wouldn’t mind someone like Lucas by his side. Someone his age, who isn’t afraid to look him in the eye.

“You wish to risk letting a criminal become your personal servant? You would trust him to be so close to you?”

Jens lets his mother stare disapprovingly at him before shifting his gaze to Lucas. They consider each other, concrete met with intrigue, before Jens gives a simple shrug. “I would. It’s my risk to take, and I believe there isn’t much risk to it. If I am wrong, then I should get what’s coming to me.”

A few of the guards give a quiet titter in acceptance, and he watches as his mother looks at a spot in the crowd, before nodding her acceptance. She looks down upon Lucas. “Very well. You will have a guard assigned to you that will accompany you on any outings, alone or with the Prince. While you are in his service, there will, as always, be guards stationed at his door and extra security provided throughout the castle. It is only as a sign of trust towards my son that you are being given leniency. You should be grateful to him that you are leaving here with your life.” She looks to the guard on his left, the one that had spoken calmly to them without laying a finger on Lucas. “Assign him a room in the Prince’s quarters. Remain with him until the new measures are fully put in place. You are dismissed,” she tells the room at large.

Lucas listens to her silently, and remains wordless as the guard at his right yanks him to his feet. Jens watches on until his mother speaks up again.

“Jens, you are to accompany him now. If he is not to be trusted from the beginning then he is not to be trusted. You are also dismissed,” she says. “Though you will be meeting me again later to discuss this decision further.”

Jens bites back a sigh and rises to his feet. The intrigue spiraling up in him is quickly turning to elation. He feels that he had been entirely right to speak up and to continue to stand as his ground.

As he makes his way down the dais and is met with Lucas’s stony gaze, however, he considers that this may not be as simple as he thought.

[heraldofzaun]

This is a post I’ve been thinking about making for quite some time, especially due to looking at how my own personal depiction of Viktor differs from what seems to be the general fandom interpretation - especially after the LoR cards released and gave us a few canonical acolytes.

I won’t beat around the bush here: this is going to be about why I personally believe that associating the Glorious Evolution specifically with headcanons about Viktor or his acolytes being trans, or Viktor performing gender-affirming surgeries, or things in a similar vein is a poor decision, and why I don’t include this interpretation in my writings. This isn’t meant to discourage people from writing Viktor or his acolytes as trans, of course - my Viktor is agender, although he’s not aware of it, and it would be absurd to say that his followers have to be cis - but I think it’s important to look at the implications that come from writing Viktor as explicitly someone who helps people relieve and manage their dysphoria through his work with the GE.

Firstly, no matter how you spin it: Viktor’s idea of the Glorious Evolution has always been painted in a negative light. I’ve done my work to portray it as idealistically as possible, but at the end of the day his goals have always been about removing (at the very least, negative) emotions from himself, as well as mechanizing himself and others.

“Desiring both to revolutionize his field and to eliminate the jealous human emotions which festered inside him, he engineered parts to replace and improve his own body... He saw himself as the patron and pioneer of Valoran's future, a future in which man would renounce his flesh in favor of superior hextech augmentations.” (Original lore.)

“He saw human involvement in any part of a process as a grossly inefficient aberration - a view that put him at odds with a great many of his fellow students and professors, who saw the very things Viktor sought to remove as the source of human ingenuity and creativity.” (New lore.)

“Jayce reported the incident [of Viktor creating a device that allowed someone to “effectively control” another person]  to the college masters, and Viktor was censured for violating basic human dignity - though, in his eyes, his work would have saved many lives. He was expelled from the college, and retreated to his old laboratory in Zaun, disgusted by the narrow-minded perceptions of Piltover's inhabitants. Alone in the depths, Viktor sank into a deep depression, enduring a traumatic period of introspection for many weeks. He wrestled with the ethical dilemma he now faced, finding that, once again, human emotion and weakness had stood in his way. He had been trying to help, to enhance people beyond their natural capabilities to avoid error and save lives. Revelation came when he realized that he too had succumbed to such emotions, allowing his naive belief that good intentions could overcome ingrained prejudice to blind him to human failings. Viktor knew he could not expect others to follow where he did not go first, so, in secret, he operated on himself to remove those parts of his flesh and psyche that relied upon or were inhibited by emotion.” (New lore.)

This, when combined with how Viktor has also always been intended as a more villainous character - his visual design language, voice lines, and how he leans into the “evil Russian scientist” stereotype all confirm that - mean that from an out-of-universe standpoint, we’re meant to see his ideas as wrong and misguided. Multiple other champions have lines specifically about how he’s wrong - Ekko calls him “everything wrong with Zaun”, Camille (who is morally grey at best, and a cold-blooded killer at worst) calls his work “quaint”, implying that it doesn’t go far enough for her liking, and Heimerdinger makes the point that without humans, no one will be left to appreciate Viktor’s work. It doesn’t matter if Viktor has good intentions - the narrative tells us time and time again that his path leads to a very dark place, especially in new lore where he’s comfortable with violating free will for the sake of preventing death.

It seems obvious to me that a character who auto-amputates as a way to cope with overwhelming emotions, who decides that emotions themselves are a burden, who is repeatedly described as having an obsession with the Glorious Evolution regardless of lore, who is described as who you go to when you’re desperate in new lore... is clearly someone whose surgeries (at least of himself, where they are implied to be unnecessary - again, auto-amputation) and end goals are supposed to be read as a violation of human nature and dignity. Here we pivot to talking about trans issues in specific.

I’m of the firm belief that it’s not a good idea to associate gender-affirming surgeries, HRT, or any other thing used for transitioning with a character whose surgeries are supposed to be read as a violation of the human form. This plays directly into the anti-trans idea that transitioning is, well, a violation of the human form. It is not a good idea to write the man who cuts off his own limbs to poorly cope with his emotions as a patron of trans rights. It’s drawing a direct parallel between Viktor’s auto-amputations, which we are supposed to read as not only a very bad thing and the product of obsession, but arguably self-harm, with life-saving medical care.

(There’s also the issue that some people seem to assume that transhumanism is, in any way, inherently related to being trans - but that’s a whole other topic that I don’t feel very qualified to write on. I consider myself someone interested in transhumanist concepts, when applied appropriately (i.e. not ending up in eugenicist territory), but I am far from an expert on transhumanist thought. I think it’s enough to say that no, they’re not related. They’re just two things with the same prefix. Please don’t confuse the two.)

In my opinion, Viktor should not be seen as someone whose work is a direct benefit to trans individuals. (Again, not to say that Viktor can’t have followers who are trans. But please, please consider before making him the person that they go to for help with transitioning. The man doesn’t even have a medical degree, and his canonical work is described as being all about function over form. He’s not the surgeon you want.) I don’t think that Viktor’s gender identity, whatever it may be, should be associated with his obsession with the Glorious Evolution - or at the least, it shouldn’t be portrayed as a positive association. (In the sense of Viktor using the GE/his own surgeries as a positive affirmation of his gender... I’m struggling to precisely define this at the moment, apologies.) The GE is, textually, an unhealthy coping mechanism.

(There’s maybe something to be said for a Viktor who has disassociated himself so far from humanity that he no longer considers gender applicable to himself... but please, be careful if you write this. I’m speaking as someone who’s agender: I’m tired of my identity being used as shorthand for someone or something becoming or being nonhuman. I’m tired of people treating Blitzcrank being reskinned as a they/them pronoun user as something revolutionary, if they themselves don’t use those pronouns or aren’t nonbinary. I’m not going to pretend that I’m the arbiter of what people can and can’t write, but I’m tired of seeing myself - as an autistic and agender person - represented solely by unfeeling aliens and machines and whatever else, and being told that it’s good, actually, because any representation is good representation. I’d like for people to be more mindful in what they write and promote, but I think that this is becoming a tangent.)

I guess it comes time for me to defend my own depiction, then, since as I’ve mentioned above I do write Viktor as agender. I admit that I want to see aspects of myself in the characters that I like, but I also strive to be aware of the implications that these aspects may have. My Viktor’s gender identity has absolutely nothing to do with his idea of the Glorious Evolution - he has no dysphoria that he attempts to relieve through his surgeries, he does not see roboticization as a way to move past the gender binary... he doesn’t even realize that he’s not a cis man, because he hasn’t had the time or tools to introspect on that aspect of himself. (He’d be rather confused if you told him that people generally tend to feel as if they’re a certain gender - he’s just... himself.) I’ve written him in this way to try to make it clear that he has always felt this way about himself - that the GE has nothing to do with it - and that it has no influence on his actions as the Machine Herald.

There isn’t really a good way to wrap this up. Again, I am not saying that Viktor or his acolytes shouldn’t be written as trans, nor trying to stop people from writing that - only that their transness shouldn’t be directly associated with his idea of the Glorious Evolution. I think that we need to be mindful of what kinds of tropes that our depictions can fall into, and in this case a non-mindful depiction of Viktor as trans can seen as equating being trans to what’s easily read as self-harm/a violation of human nature. I doubt that anyone genuinely intends this association, but it can be made regardless, and so I prefer to keep the two concepts wholly separate in my depiction.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. I’m willing to answer any questions that arise from this.

[keeponshouting]

After Infection

Chapter 2 of my original character massive multiverse mash-up. ...only like four people are reading this but whatever.

After Infection: Chopping Mall

“My name’s Shannon,” she says as they all sprawl about in the middle of a department store’s ransacked home furnishings section. “I’m a daycare worker and lifeguard. I—I saw one of those things run straight into the pool. He just…tackled the other lifeguard and—and dove right in. God, it was—it was terrible! Everything was—I—I just got in my car and started driving and my boyfriend… My boyfriend worked here so I came looking for him. He—he wasn’t here but the parking lot was a mad house! Someone hit my car and drove off and I was just—” She takes a deep breath and forces a shaky smile back into place. “Eric saw me stranded and let me in.”

“I’m Eric.” One of the security guards takes the mention of his name as a good segue into his own introduction. “Me and Jamie were on duty when everything just…went nuts.” The other guard raises his hand in a wave but says nothing. “There, um, used to be four of us but… Well, some of those things got in before we locked down.” His grimace says it all. “We’ve run into a few since then but only on the first floor so we mainly stay up here unless we need to make supply runs and no one goes down there alone.” He laughs, though it comes out hollow. “I was supposed to be going off shift, y’know? Then people started attacking each other in the parking lot and…” He shrugs.

The other girl who had been waiting inside clears her throat, anxiously tugging at the photo ID around her neck. “I, uh, I’m—” She clears her throat again and sits up straight. “Jo. I’m Jo. I was on a manager shift at—Well, I guess it doesn’t matter where I worked anymore, huh? Um. We were supposed to have a meeting last night – new stock and all that – but everybody’s always tired of eating at the food court so I just let them all go out and get dinner from this place across the street and then they’re supposed to come back and…” Her hand closes into a fist around her lanyard. “N-nobody came back. I had my headphones on when I heard a gun go off somewhere and Scott – he was one of the other guards – he came in and told me to get upstairs. There was—there was blood fucking—it was everywhere! Blood and—”

Shannon places a hand on Jo’s shoulder.

Someone else clears their throat and a low, slightly uncertain voice pipes up. “Uh, hi. My name’s Dennis and I’m a zombie survivor?” There is a small ripple of laughter and that seems to bolster his confidence a bit as he stretches out his absurdly long legs for a moment, then folds them loosely in front of himself as he leans back against his boyfriend’s knees and smiles. “So, yeah, I’m Dennis and this is Nate. We, uh… We were in town to, uh…” That seems to be where his confidence wavers again, though, and he leans his head back to look up at Nate.

Nate sighs and gives a small wave, taking stock of the group of people around him. His smile looks far more preoccupied than the one Dennis had to offer. “We were visiting some friends in the area. Planned on going out to do some hunting.” He points to the shotgun leaned up against the arm of his chair as evidence. “That went about how you might expect.”

The next speaker looks almost as nervous as Dennis at first but a deep breath seems to change his demeanor entirely, leaving him with an easy smile and a new air of confidence. “I’m Alex.” That confidence is put to the test as he glances down at the flakes of dried blood and god alone knows what else left on his palms. It leaves his face a little paler when he looks back up again and he distracts himself by introducing his friends instead of delving into their situation. “This is Val…Macy…Sasha…Nick. The dog’s Parker. We’re—”

“5 Year Mentality!” Her anxiety forgotten, Jo sits forward, eyes wide and excited. “Oh my god! I knew you looked familiar. Alex Niccols. Holy shit. I was supposed to go to your concert tomorrow.”

Val grunts, lip turning upward in a not at all subtle scowl. “Great. End of the world and we’re still stuck with a fucking fangirl.”

Jo’s face goes red and Alex sighs, confidence dissolving nearly as quickly as it had appeared. “Uh, yeah. We’re on tour. Well, we were anyway. Our driver stopped to help somebody on the side of the road and…yeah.”

“So, uh,” Dennis seems to have either regained his own courage or decided that helping Alex regain his is just more important and leans forward with a faint grin. “You usually tour with a vintage T-bird in tow?”

Alex actually laughs and grins right back. “Figured the guy who bought it wasn’t gonna be using it any time soon. If I’m gonna die anyway—” He shrugs. “—might as well drive to hell in style, right?”

Most of their circle laughs as well, taking any chance they can to relax for however short a time, and as soon as they go quiet again there is a little squeak and “I’m Amanda! I’m five!” Which gets all those who laughed before to do so again and finally draws attention to the last unwitting member of their little village.

Nate is the one who finally leans forward, perfectly nonchalant as he drapes his arms down over Dennis’s chest and yet… “Your turn, draugs.”

The man now holding everyone’s attention leans back into his chair, eyebrows raised as he takes a lazy drag off of his cigarette, ignoring everyone else in favor of studying the young man who seems to be so intent upon studying him. “Viktor.”

There is an uneasy shift among the others and Nate narrows his eyes for a moment before nodding. “Pleasure to meet you, Viktor. Just out of curiosity, since I couldn’t help but notice that you’re packing pretty heavy and you’ve got – what? – a sniper set up somewhere out there?” Around them, everyone else shares a few wary glances. Dennis sighs and mutters something in Nate’s ear but his words are ignored. “So, what exactly is it that you do for a living?”

Viktor takes another drag and leans forward, blowing a long stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he plasters on a perfectly placid smile. “Former FBI, current investigative specialist. Federal reserve.” He shrugs. “My partner just happens to be manning the military surplus shop across the lot. Hell of a shot, ne?”

It is silent for a full minute, everyone just watching the two men stare at one another before Shannon sits up, her voice cracking just slightly as she suggests that they start making plans for the best way to make sure everyone is comfortable for the night.

---

“Any bright ideas, bossman?”

Viktor scowls and knocks cigarette ash over the sea of undead below as he looks toward the distant rooftop where he knows his partner to have set up camp. “Aside from shooting the perky daycare woman who won’t let me smoke in peace? Ne.”

There is a snort on the other end of the line. “Patience, ’mano. Not your strong suit with people, I know, but a good thing to have. Necessary even.”

“Sklapni. I’m not threatening to shoot the five year old. What more do you want?”

Everything goes quiet for a moment aside from the groaning and howling of the jostling horde and then, “Five year old?”

With a grunt, Viktor takes a seat on the edge of the roof and flicks the smoldering butt of his cigarette into the crowd. “Ano. Yes. My army consists of a daycare worker, a store manager, two security guards, a couple of hunters, a bunch of rockstars, and a five year old.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “And a dog.”

Miguel sounds distracted as he laughs in his ear. “And the only one you get along with es el perro.”

“Pretty much.”

“How did I know?”

“Hn.”

Another cigarette flashes into life on either side of the plaza and there is another quiet moment.

“Just try to play nice over there, sí?”

“Define nice.”

Viktor can almost hear the roll of the other man’s eyes and that, at least, puts a genuine smile on his face.

---

“So, uh, we got a plan yet?”

Nate frowns, glancing up toward Dennis’s place at the door to the main store before returning to rummaging through the rear of the hatchback. When the group as a whole had decided that they might as well just hold tight in the mall for a while, what with how many undead currently had them surrounded, Dennis had suggested that the two of them should probably head back down and see what sort of useful supplies they could believably scrounge up while maintaining the cover of a plain old hunting trip. Eric and that band kid, Alex, had come down with them but they had since headed back upstairs with a bunch of luggage that had been left in the T-bird upon first arrival. It is painfully quiet, aside from the muffled groans emanating from the zombie horde outside and the intermittent noises of the ventilation system kicking in and out and that obviously has Dennis on edge. To be fair, it has Nate pretty twitchy, too. Occasionally the garage door rattles but whatever Alex had done to the gears earlier is thus far doing an extremely impressive job of keeping any creeping fingers from wiggling their way underneath. Unless the zombies managed to full-out bust their way through, that door is going absolutely nowhere.

“The way I see it,” Nate says, “we don’t actually have a lot of options. In fact, all we’ve got right now is the knowledge that we’re relatively well-armed and stocked on food. Twelve people and a dog could probably live in here for a month or two without any trouble.”

There is a pause before Dennis takes a deep breath and blurts out, “What about Viktor’s partner?”

That makes Nate stop and he slowly raises his head to peer over at Dennis again, finding his eyes met and locked. “What about him?”

Dennis furrows his brow. “We’re supposed to help people, right? Protect them from—I mean, this kind of thing would—Zombies are in the bestiary so…”

“Yes.” With a sigh, Nate moves out from behind the car and leans his shoulder into passenger side instead, arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, zombies are in the bestiary and yes, we are supposed to help people and okay, fine, that includes the secretive asshole and his sniper, despite the fact that I am absolutely certain that both of them can pretty obviously take care of themselves and—” He holds up a hand to hush whatever is about to come out of Dennis’s mouth next. “—yes, I am aware that we should be grateful for his sniper’s help. We’d have had a hell of a time getting in here without him. Satisfied?”

There is a pause, Dennis pressing his lips together in thought, then he offers a sheepish smile and shrugs. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Any other questions? Things you want to tell me off for?”

“Actually, yeah, question. Am I allowed to play with Amanda or would that be considered befriending your enemy by association?”

Nate throws his hands up and just goes right back around to finish resorting their supplies for easy transport. “He’s not my enemy, you dope, he’s just keeping secrets and I don’t like it. Besides, I know what everyone else is thinking and I’m not convinced that Amanda’s actually his but…”

Dennis grins and comes over to join him, bending his knees and stooping to bridge the height gap between them as he kisses Nate on the cheek. “She sure does seem attached to him, though, huh?”

“Stop trying to throw your back out, you fucking giant.” Nate gives him a proper kiss, then shoves a bag of camping gear into his chest to hide his own smile. “Now let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps.”

---

“So here’s the deal,” Eric had said the moment that they were all gathered again. “This is the best furniture department in the mall so I’m making the executive decision that we stay put. We’ve only got three storefronts between here and the nearest restrooms but I’d still rather we didn’t let anybody go alone or unarmed just in case. We’ll take turns keeping watch overnight because I don’t know about the rest of you but that’ll definitely help me sleep easier. Anybody needs PJs or just some clean clothes—” He makes a point of looking toward Alex with only a quick glance toward Viktor. “—I can open up pretty much any store you want. Not like anybody’s asset management is going to come yelling at me any time soon. Just stick to the second floor. Agreed?”

Half an hour later, they are all down to the varying levels of undress in which they intend to sleep and are discussing the logistics of who is going to sleep where. Well, most of them are, anyway. Some people have simply taken up residence in their own selected spots and silently informed everyone else to fuck off. Luckily, Viktor’s selected spot happens to be on the furthest sofa away from pretty much everyone else. Meanwhile, the band kids have pulled a futon off of its display and tucked it in behind the nearby help desk with an assortment of pillows and blankets piled up around it like an extremely compact sleepover and Shannon and Jo have moved a few curtain display units to create their own little room. Nate and Dennis find things a little more difficult and have to hunt for a display mattress that isn’t going to completely kill Dennis’s back, a task which no one else seems to have realized would be such a feat until the giant finally stood at his full 7-foot height in front of everyone to help retrieve some bedding from a higher shelf. Even Viktor had looked a bit shocked by that.

By the time the main lights cut out, everything seems to be just about settled, and Eric does one last lap of the group before dropping a couple of blankets into the recliners that he and Jamie had selected. “We all good? I can dim the security lights a little if they’re bugging anybody too much. Want make sure everybody gets some sleep.” His words, however, draw very little attention as there is a much more pressing matter in need of attending just beyond the next display.

“Amanda, honey?” Shannon is crouched down by the little girl who is currently curled up on the floor, clinging to Parker and using the dog’s broad back as a pillow. Not far away, Dennis and Nate share a quick glance, one worried and the other significantly more frustrated.

“Amanda,” Shannon says again, still receiving no response. “Do you want to come sleep with me, maybe? Jo and I have our own little space. It can be just us girls. What do you say?”

The five year old just bites her lip and curls up a little bit tighter.

“She can keep Parker out there if she wants,” Alex quietly offers. “He’d get too hot over here anyway.”

After another moment, Macy gets up and pads out with one of their blankets and an extra pillow for the little girl even as Shannon keeps trying. “Amanda. Come on, baby. You can have your own bed and everything. We’ll make it up nice and soft and—”

The exasperated grunt that finally makes her stop causes everyone to jump and though most of them are unable to really see him from where they sit, Viktor’s one arm rises just barely into everyone’s view. “Jdeš sem, holčička.” His hand motions her over somewhat roughly. “Come here.”

Still biting her lip, Amanda slowly sits up but only hesitates until he finally opens one eye and turns his head to face her, brow arched with an irritable, “Well?” Then she hops to her feet and scurries over to curl up on the man’s chest. He simply ignores their audience, tosses part of his blanket over her, and closes his eyes once again.

---

The first morning comes and goes in a general whirl of coffee and the occasional cigarette, breakfast provided courtesy of Shannon and the nearest break room, until they all hear a whole lot of noise coming from somewhere downstairs and everything immediately goes quiet amongst them. It only takes a few minutes of hushed discussion for them to decide that the security guards and hunters will run recon and see if they can find the source. They return almost as quickly with the news that some of animals have escaped from the pet store and are now wandering freely about the first floor. This, of course, begs the question of how that might have happened and leads to the subsequent decision that they are going to have to do another sweep of the lower level in the very near future.

“So…” Alex watches as Macy and Amanda play with a box of kittens that Dennis had collected from the shop’s window, the little furballs happily climbing all over the ever patient Parker. “In all likelihood, there’s at least one more of those things still down there.”

“That’s all we can figure,” Eric agrees with a shrug. “By the time we got to the pet shop, it wasn’t there anymore but I can’t really think of any other explanation.”

Nate nods. “Half of the cages were on the floor. Even if the animals just got spooked by something, there’s the matter of what could have scared them.”

Val is the one who finally gets tired of the ensuing silence and leans forward to place her elbows on the table with a pointed thunk. “So, boys and girls, are we hunting this bitch down or what?”

---

The mall is basically shaped like an X and it only makes sense that they divide up into four hunting parties. Eric and Jamie stick together to cover the wing with the food court so they can be sure to check all of the nooks and crannies but the rest of the teams are divided with weapons proficiency in mind. Nate and Val take one hall, Dennis and Jo take another, and Alex finds himself headed down the last one with Viktor. It takes a great deal of arguing with a very panicked little girl to get that last one to fly, though.

“We don’t know which way it would’ve gone,” Eric had told them, “so watch your back.”

Val had checked her gun and flashed Viktor a glare at that, adding a simple, “And your partner’s.”

Aside from the occasional shop still playing its music mix through the in-store speakers, however, and a video place with ads still looping on their front display, their slow walk down hall four is proving to be surprisingly quiet. Watching some random anime character run across an absurdly oversized tv screen, Alex figures that the silence is really what creeps him out the most. He feels pretty safe assuming that the others are at least talking to their partners enough to strategize but his companion? Yeah, not so much. At least he can be sure that Viktor, of all people, is going to completely ignore the sight of the four-by-six-foot poster of his face plastered to the inside of some alt shop’s front window, signs around it displaying a countdown to a concert that will never happen. Anyone else and there might have been some sort of comment but no. With Viktor, he gets absolutely nothing. Just keep on walking and get the job done. For that much, Alex is pretty damn grateful.

Contrast to the eerie silence, the crash of a sign falling somewhere down an exit corridor is nearly enough to make him piss himself. “Fuck.” His voice cracks in a tremendously unflattering fashion. “Please just be a puppy or something.”

Viktor actually snorts at that as he returns from checking the entrance space to the nearest restrooms. He still says nothing, just brings his gun to the ready and starts toward the source of the sound. Alex takes a deep breath before following close behind, then has to literally bite his tongue to stop himself from swearing when he jumps at the sound of something running into the doors on the other side of a massive fountain and welcome sign. It is definitely not a puppy.

“I take left,” Viktor instructs, voice low and eyes focused on whatever lie ahead.

Well, shit. Alex takes a deep, steadying breath, and carefully creeps off to the right. He barely has to round his side of the fountain to see it.

What looks like it was once a janitor is there at the locked door, smearing blood all over the class as it claws at its own reflection. On the left, Viktor whistles to get the thing’s attention. To the right, Alex’s heart just about stops when it turns toward him instead. Luckily, it hits the ground with a hole in its head before it even gets close enough for him to properly smell.

“Well,” Viktor mutters, “that was a bit too—Duck.”

“Huh?”

The shriek behind him is more than enough to help Alex process the order, though, and he dives out of the way at almost the exact same time as a bullet whizzes past, not nearly far enough from where his head had just been for his liking. It leaves the second janitor sprawled in a double-dead bloody mess on top of him and he finally lets the curses he had been holding back burst right out.

Like some sort of terrible chain reaction, you shoot one and the sound draws the attention of another. A good dozen or so are banging on the outside doors now with another wave coming up behind them and when he looks back—“Behind you!”

A few trips to the shooting range with his grandfather had shown Alex early on that his aim was shit under pressure which is just another reason why he appreciates being paired up with the big, mean, Federal agent. All that Alex has to manage is a single shot that does enough to slow the attack and then it feels kind of like watching a high-end action film in real life. Viktor spins with the warning barely out of Alex’s mouth and has his hand perfectly positioned to catch the creature by the throat as it loses its balance mid-lunge. The weight and momentum are enough to knock Viktor’s feet out from under him, sure, but he keeps his hold, hand locked tight under the joint of the jaw, even as they both crash into the fountain’s pool. Not two seconds later, his pistol is still pointed at where the monster’s right eye had once been and the entrance hall is splattered with… Well, Alex would really rather not think about it.

That silence comes in again, everything gone deathly still aside from the splashing of the water and the rattling of the undead at the doors, and then Alex’s voice cracks again. “What the fuck do you pack, man?”

Viktor tosses the corpse aside and spits a wad of red and grey as he climbs back out onto dry land. “Glock 20C. 10 mm Auto. Good for hunting deer.”

“Fuck.”

“Hm.” There is a pause as the man looks himself over and grimaces before spitting again and mutter more to himself than to current company, “Well, here’s hoping the infection requires them to swallow bits of you.”

Alex simply stares up at him, slack-jawed, from his place on the floor until Viktor arches a brow. “Co?” “You—” Alex blinks, splutters. “Dude. You have a sense of humor.”

Viktor huffs and the sound very nearly sounds like a laugh. “Lose your new sweetheart and let’s finish this job.” Another blink, a look of confusion, and then Alex slowly turns his head to all but shriek as the dead janitor’s face falls a little closer to his own.

---

There is a low whistle over the line as Viktor pulls a chair up to the edge of the roof. “Mierda, ’mano. What happened to you?”

So begins an excellent afternoon, much as zombie hunting had begun such an excellent morning.

“We need a plan before I shoot something living,” Viktor states some time later as he levels his sights on another target. “The zatracený daycare girl is still trying my patience and at least one other person in here would be more than happy to see the store manager gone.” He fires. “If we don’t get out of here soon…”

“Just don’t forget me once you get out, sí?”

Viktor snorts. “What do you think I’m going to do, just leave you on the roof with your rifle and drive off into the sunset with a bunch of people I can’t even stand?”

“Watch the sarcasm, ’mano. I might be tempted.”

Looking up, Viktor smirks directly into the rifle’s sights. “Go ahead. Most people in here would likely be relieved.”

There’s a tsk-ing noise and he can see the weapon being lowered on the other rooftop. “No fun if you make it easy.”

[romionestinyballoflight]

Okay fellow Romione shippers, I have something I need to get off of my chest. A rant, if you will.

Just a quick disclaimer, this post is going to be long and I’m going to be unleashing thoughts and feelings I’ve had built up for six years now, so I’m going to insert a handy dandy Read More here for those who are not interested in seeing six years worth of pent up thoughts and feelings.

For those of you still with me, let’s jump into this.

Since I’ve been making strict Romione posts lately, I’ve obviously been thinking about the dynamic of their relationship and why they do work as a couple and why they definitely should’ve been endgame. But I’ve also been thinking about people who argue against Romione, specifically those who ship Harmione and Dramione.

This is something I’ve touched on before, but when I first became a Potterhead I was a Harmione shipper. Mainly because I was only ten or eleven when I first started the books, and I didn’t understand how adult relationships actually work. I didn’t fully understand that people are going to get heated with each other, people are going to argue, and there is nothing wrong with that. So, knowing that, I saw how Ron and Hermione interacted at first glance, thought it was wrong, and my late elementary/early middle school brain wanted Hermione with Harry. It also had to do with the fact that I saw a lot of myself in Hermione, and at the time, I would’ve crushed on someone like Harry over someone like Ron (I still see a lot of myself in Hermione, and as I’ve grown up I’ve realized I actually would fall for someone like Ron and would actually need someone like Ron, but more on that later). It’s also not hard to ship the main guy with the main girl, because that’s a trope a lot of authors use. So believe me, I understand the appeal of the Harmione relationship.

However, the same can’t be said about the Dramione ship. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the good girl/bad boy relationship and I can even kind of see the appeal of it. But I’m also very leery about it because there’s a fine line between respectful good girl/bad boy relationships and disrespectful good girl/bad boy relationships, and it’s very easy to cross that line. With the Dramione ship, it goes beyond just crossing the line. Granted, Draco Malfoy was raised in a hateful environment, but this is also someone who literally wished death on Hermione just because she was of different magic blood status. Dramione shippers can say all they want that Draco didn’t know how to manage his feelings and had to maintain his status quo or whatever by openly bullying Hermione and throwing racial slurs at Hermione and literally wanting Hermione dead and it’s the classic “he’s bullying her, so that means he likes her!”, but wishing death on someone is not something anyone should be saying in any kind of context and it’s definitely not something I would say about anyone I had feelings for, so I’ll never excuse that alone. That one example of wishing Hermione was dead is my number one argument against Dramione every time I argue with someone about it. I don’t even touch on the fact that he just bullied the absolute shit out of her or threw racial slurs at her constantly, I just go directly to the fact that he literally said he wanted her dead.

Anyway, sorry for the tangent, back to what I originally wanted to rant about.

The thing that I consider the “catalyst” for all this bullshit is the infamous Wonderland interview J.K. Rowling did with Emma Watson in 2014. At the time it came out, it left a huge pit in my stomach. And it honestly still leaves a huge pit in my stomach whenever I think about it. 

Yes, I know this interview is six years old, but like I said, this shit still gets under my skin even after all these years, and I’ve never really been able to coherently rant about it, so I’m doing it now.

And also before I continue, I just want to say that I know there have always been shipping wars. They didn’t just come about in 2014 when this interview was released. But it definitely fueled the fire for those who argue against Romione (especially Harmione shippers). Because let’s be real here, what better fuel is there than the actual author of the series and the creator of these characters going back on her written word and saying Hermione actually should’ve ended up with Harry instead of Ron? I’m getting ahead of myself here, back to it. 

At the time the Wonderland interview was leaked, only a portion of it was leaked. And the portion that was leaked was the portion that completely made it sound like J.K. Rowling was going against Ron and Hermione’s relationship completely because it mainly centered around her saying she should have put Hermione with Harry in the end and her reason for putting Hermione with Ron instead was “wish fulfillment.” So obviously, an uproar resulted from this and my Romione heart was broken (for reasons I’ll touch more on in a minute). However, sometime later, the full interview was released, which means full context of what J.K. Rowling was talking about was released. And the full context should’ve made me feel better, but it really didn’t. Because while she did admit that Ron and Hermione were ultimately still endgame, she also said that they would most likely need counseling at some point and “they will probably fine.” 

There’s a lot to unpack here, and I could honestly run through this interview with a fine-tooth comb and pick apart literally everything wrong with it because I’m a feisty protective bitch when it comes to Romione, but for the sake of time, I’m only going to touch on three main points.

To be quite honest, after all these years, I still really can’t decide what I have a bigger problem with -- J.K. Rowling going back on her own written word and saying she should’ve put Hermione with Harry, or J.K. Rowling saying Ron and Hermione would need outside help to manage their relationship. So let’s go through it in the order this bullshit was put out into the world, because I think that’s the easier thing to do right now.

Like I said earlier, I see the appeal with the Harmione relationship. But ultimately, it just doesn’t work. For one thing, there are seven whole books where Harry and Hermione’s relationship is developed into something quite platonic and even sibling-like. I really could just leave it at that, but I won’t. I’ll do kind of a deep dive because I’m in that kind of mood and I have the time today. I’ve said this before, but one of my favorite things about the Harry and Hermione relationship is the fact that they are, for all intents and purposes, the sibling that the other never had. They are comfortable enough confiding in each other, but they also don’t always know how to react to how the other is acting or how to comfort the other when they’re upset without it blowing up in their faces or how to comfort the other at all. 

The other thing I want to touch on with the Harry and Hermione relationship, is the fact that neither one of them reacts in a negative way when one of them has a love interest. Which is kind of a big deal. The only time I can think of where there was a bad reaction to a love interest, is when Hermione reveals she asked Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn’s Christmas party. Which wasn’t even really a love interest, it was just something Hermione did to piss Ron off. And the negative reaction to it wasn’t at all motivated by jealousy but just by pure dislike. Other than that, there really are no reactions to love interests. Harry doesn’t care that Hermione is at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, because he’s too busy lusting over Cho Chang and thinking about the fact that she is there with someone else. Harry doesn’t really think about the fact that Cormac McLaggen is making Hermione uncomfortable at Slughorn’s Christmas party, because he’s too busy lusting over Ginny and thinking about the fact that she is with someone else. 

And perhaps the best and most important example I can think of to prove the point that they absolutely do not have any romantic feelings for each other whatsoever, is this -- after Ron left in Deathly Hallows, not only did Harry and Hermione barely interact with each other, but Harry was way too busy focusing on Ginny and worrying if she was okay or not to even attempt to comfort Hermione, who was crying all the time over Ron’s departure. As much as Steve Kloves wanted to imply that Harry and Hermione were carrying on fine for the most part after Ron left and they could have given into “urges” one night, that’s simply not how it happened.

Since I feel like I’ve made my point with that, that’s enough of Harry and Hermione relationship dissection. Moving on to the next order of bullshit.

Obviously I am a shameless Romione shipper. I would scream it from the rooftops if I could. So the fact that J.K. Rowling herself said that Ron and Hermione’s relationship would need outside help and they would “probably” be fine is upsetting in and of itself, but there are a lot of other issues here. For one thing, just like with Harry and Hermione’s relationship development, there are seven whole books where Ron and Hermione’s relationship is developed into friendship and gradually into something more. If anything, to me it’s a great example of a slow burn relationship. I absolutely don’t believe that the attraction was immediate for either one of them. It was very much a “who the fuck is this” introduction for them. But over time, you see how they warm up to each other. 

Anyway, back to what I was originally saying. Ron and Hermione’s relationship was very well developed, and it was clear that they were always going to be endgame. Over the course of seven books, we see Ron and Hermione getting to know each other, becoming comfortable with each other, learning how to comfort each other, among many other things. And I feel like I need to address this, because this is always the main argument for people who dislike the Romione ship -- yes, Ron and Hermione have arguments. But the important thing to know about the way they argue, is the intent is almost never malicious. For one thing, it’s just how they communicate sometimes. For another thing, it’s intellectual stimulation on Hermione’s part. Hermione’s the class brainiac, no one really bothers to challenge her except for Ron. In both of these instances, the arguing isn’t necessarily a negative thing. @owlpostagain wrote an entire post explaining why Ron and Hermione argue, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I reblog it every single time I see it on my dashboard. If you haven’t read it, I would highly encourage it.

I also really want to touch on the argument that they’re too different. That Hermione is too uptight and too much of a rule follower, and Ron is too much of a goofball and a little bit of a slacker compared to Hermione. And to those people who present that as an argument against their relationship, I just simply say that’s exactly why they work so well. Hermione needs someone like Ron, and Ron needs someone like Hermione. Hermione needs Ron to help loosen her up, and Ron needs Hermione to remind him that there are times when he needs to be serious. It’s a healthy balance. And remember how I said earlier that I see a lot of myself in Hermione, and I can admit that I need someone like Ron? Well, this is why. I’m a type A stress bean, and I need someone who will not only know how to comfort me but also helps me relax and loosen up when needed. Because, just like Hermione, it’s a struggle for me to relax. There are times when I don’t even know how to relax.

And while I’m at it, here’s another gripe I have with people who argue against Ron and Hermione’s relationship (this wasn’t really talked about in the Wonderland interview, but we’re already in this far, so why not? I’ll make it super quick, I promise) -- For some reason, a lot of anti-Romione’s like to argue that Hermione deserved so much better than Ron because she is smart and he is dumb. Now, here is my rebuttal to that argument -- Number one, book smart is not the only kind of smart. Number two, yes, Hermione is smart. So do you really think she would actually fall in love with someone who is genuinely dumb? Please make it make sense.

I could honestly go into Ron and Hermione’s relationship beat by beat and explain exactly why they’re perfect together, but that’s not the focus of today’s post. So let’s keep going.

The last thing I want to go over, is just the interview overall. Because it really bothered me how J.K. Rowling just essentially ripped the rug out from under our feet and went against her own written word. I understand that J.K. Rowling is the author of the series, she is the creator of these characters, so she’s technically allowed to say and do what she wants regarding the series. However, it doesn’t really fly with me. Because let’s think about this -- J.K. Rowling is very meticulous with her notes and timeline planning and everything that goes into writing. Especially when it came to the Harry Potter series. So we all know that what eventually ended up happening had been planned for years. Therefore, I’m of the opinion that if she really felt so strongly about Hermione being better with Harry, then it should have been executed that way. Point blank period. Don’t spend seven books laying the groundwork for Ron and Hermione to end up together and actually put them together, only to come out years later and say “actually I kind of think Hermione should’ve ended up with Harry, but I guess Ron and Hermione are fine.” Because it’s bullshit. I understand that opinions can change over time, but it’s not like she can go back and change the entire series (because that’s exactly what she would have to do in order to make Harmione make sense as a romantic couple; the entire series would have to be rewritten), so why even stir the pot with this? To say I have beef with J.K. Rowling over this whole situation would be the understatement of the century.

At the end of the day, all I really need to do is remind myself that Ron and Hermione do start out as friends, they do fall in love with each other, they do end up together, and they do have children together. It’s in writing from J.K. Rowling herself. It is canon. And that can’t ever be taken away or unwritten.

If you made it this far in this post, mad props to you because I really went in on this and I truly did not mean to get this worked up. When I finally start rereading the books, I’ll dissect the Ron and Hermione relationship even more and I’ll make posts about that if you guys are interested. If anyone would like more of a deep dive on what I think of the Harmione or Dramione dynamics, let me know because I would definitely be up for doing posts about that as well.

[moodyvalentinestories]

Direction – Thirteen | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Warnings: Discussion of Viktor being a sexual predator; not being able to stop a sexual predator because proof is fucking hard to come by.

Summary: Hunt and Danielle’s conversation continues...

Words: 1700+

Notes: I'm pretty sure y'all are smart enough to know this but, um, Danielle is kind of an idiot and her idea was a very, very bad one. So, like, don't do that.

❥ Previous Chapter: Twelve ❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

Thomas wanted to believe her more than anything in the world as she stood before him, looking so utterly miserable. He so wanted to reach out and take her into his arms, tell her he was sorry and beg for her forgiveness, but he needed answers first, and irrefutable ones at that. He wouldn’t let her fool him with a trembling lip and a voice no louder than a whisper again. It could have very well been another act. He was tempted to believe her without so much as an explanation, now that he’d looked at the contents of the box, wondering why she would have given something that could have landed her in prison for life to him if she’d thought there was any chance he’d release it. But that was just it – it could have been a well-calculated risk, knowing him as she did. Perhaps she’d thought he wouldn’t be that cruel and, had he known just how incriminating the evidence was, she would have been right. He would have burned the whole thing and never even thought about releasing any of it.

“How?” he asked her. “How were you going to fix anything by going with him?”

Danielle looked away and began chewing on her lip. “I offered him a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Thomas asked, though he could imagine.

She huffed, still not meeting his eyes. “The kind he would have accepted. Asked him to get rid of what he has on you.”

“And you thought he’d uphold such a deal, did you?” He couldn’t believe she’d be quite so naïve. Then again, if what she was saying was true, she’d already proven how naïve she was by entering into a contract with Montmartre in the first place.

Danielle made a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh but was perhaps supposed to be one. “No, I didn’t think he would.”

“Then why—”

“He needed to believe me, didn’t he? I couldn’t have him be suspicious,” she explained, her hands fiddling with the hem of her dress. “Would have worked if Ethan hadn’t interfered, too, I’m sure.”

There was a knot forming in his stomach as Thomas started to piece everything together, though he didn’t understand quite yet. “What would have worked?”

“I had Dean call in some favours. Got into the security cameras in his office. We would have had the footage, then,” she told him and he felt like he was going to throw up. He almost wished he hadn’t eaten just now. “It would have worked, I know it.”

Thomas was once again floored by just how naïve she appeared to be. “It wouldn’t have. I’m certain he’s had people try to blackmail him like this before, Danielle, you wouldn’t have been the first one. You would have—”

“You don’t understand,” she interrupted him, and he did have to stop speaking to hear her, her voice having gone quieter again. “I’d have told him I’ve changed my mind. I’d have asked him to stop.”

That made even less sense to him. How would that have helped anyone? Let alone her, because if there was one thing Thomas was sure about, it was that Montmartre would not have cared a bit. “Danielle, I don’t think…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think he would have listened.”

She finally looked up at him when she spoke, holding his gaze. “I know. I was counting on it.”

It was then that the penny dropped and Thomas gained a new appreciation for Mr Blake, who, as it appeared, had prevented what would have been a rather ugly outcome to Danielle’s insane plan. “No. No, that’s not – no, you – no.”

“It’s the only way I could think of that would have stopped him for good,” she said, clearly trying for a nonchalant tone but he knew better.

The trembling of her lower lip caught his eye and before he could change his mind or she could protest, he’d rounded the counter and wrapped her up in a tight embrace. It was no later than her face was buried between his neck and his shoulder that tears began to fall from her eyes again, and Thomas could feel them soak through his shirt.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair, the endearment slipping out unbidden but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. “What were you thinking?”

She sobbed against him once more before she told him, her voice barely above a breath, “I just wanted to fix everything.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she wouldn’t have fixed anything – that she would have only put herself in harm’s way – but he found it would be best to wait to tell her that. So he simply pulled her closer then, resting his chin on top of her head, and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Danielle, I didn’t know.”

He’d never felt quite so terrible about not having had all the facts, and he cursed himself for not having talked to her before he’d gone and tried to ruin her life. He almost couldn’t believe he’d acted in such an impulsive way but, then again, it wasn’t so usual for him to have any type of feeling that could cloud his judgement. And the disappointment – the betrayal – he’d felt when he’d seen her go with Montmartre had been one hell of a cloud.

Danielle wasn’t sure just how she had ended up in Hunt’s arms after the day they’d had, but she most certainly was not going to complain. He was warm and comforting and she wished she’d never have to leave his embrace again. Unfortunately, she knew he had more words for her – a proper scolding about how stupid she was, and how wrong it would have been to go through with what she’d planned – but just now she decided to cling to him a little while longer, at the very least until her tears would subside.

Eventually, they did, and she pulled back a little, feeling that Hunt was just as reluctant to let go as she was. He did, though, once she took a step back, and she couldn’t help feeling a little bereft. She had half a mind to just step back into his arms again right away and clasped her hands behind her back to stop her from doing so.

“Are you all right?” Hunt asked before she could even get a word out.

She nodded. “I am. I’m fine,” she confirmed, taking a moment to consider her next words. “I would have been fine, too,

“Maybe so,” he said, though the exasperated look that told her he didn’t believe that in the slightest didn’t escape her. “But it was a bad idea all around.”

Danielle huffed. “Was it? You just told me you didn’t think he would have listened. You know he’s a creep and a… a fucking predator. You know.”

“There’s a difference between suspecting and having proof,” he argued, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

And she did understand, which made it all the more infuriating. “I could have provided proof!”

“And what if your plan backfired?” he asked, his voice raised now. “What if someone found out what you’ve done?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. “Well, I…”

“At best, it would have been a crime in and of itself,” Hunt said, shaking his head. He spoke quietly now, his voice serious. “At worst, your actions would have discredited any real case that could be made against him. You would have discredited his victims.”

He was right, she knew. It would have been wrong in many ways, but she was so sure it would have worked, and if it had, they’d have had a way to make him go away for good. Not just for their sake, but for everybody else’s, too. “What was I supposed to do, then?” Danielle asked. “Wait for some other young actress to fall into his trap for real and hope to catch it on camera?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like the height of morality to me.”

“There has to be another way, Danielle,” he said and she felt like a chided child.

Hanging her head, she said quietly, “It wouldn’t have just been for you, you know.”

“I know,” he assured her. She could see him lift his hand from the corner of her eye, letting it hover above her shoulder before he took it back, not touching her. “He will get his just deserts one day. He will. But not like this, sweetheart. Not like this.”

She hadn’t been sure if he’d noticed he’d called her that earlier, but this time she was. This time it was intentional, and she felt her heart flutter the tiniest bit. It didn’t change anything about the situation, though, and she sighed. “It’s not like I could try it again, anyway.”

“Good,” Hunt said with a nod, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder after all. “I’ll do anything in my power to help you bring Montmartre down if that’s what you wish to do. This time, I’ll be there to help.”

There wasn’t much of a choice but to accept that that was the best option now, and she nodded. “Okay. We will find a way to get you out of this project, and we will find a way to bring Viktor down. Whichever comes first,” she said determinedly.

“We will,” he agreed and gave her a small smile.

Danielle returned that smile, then, feeling as if now was the time to lighten the mood, said, “I do have one question, though.”

Hunt regarded her, eyes narrowed, and she was sure her semi-cheerful tone had made him suspicious. “What kind of question?”

“Were you jealous?”

The smile that tugged at one corner of his lips – though it never quite made it into a full smile – told her everything she needed to know. He didn’t dignify her with an answer, though, and instead asked her, “How would you feel about a little campfire in the backyard?”

“A campfire?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

He grinned then and nodded to the box and papers that still lay on the counter. “We better get rid of those, don’t we?”

“Can we make s’mores, too?”

Hunt chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m all out of marshmallows.”

“I suppose just warming our hands over it will do,” she said as she put everything back into the box and tucked the thing under her arm to carry it outside.

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