#i just felt in my BONES we had to get our takes on theories out there

[trashlie]

I saw a theory about Mr. Kim being Kousuke's real father. Makes me want to throw up. And then I saw another comment on that thread how the real thing that would break Kou is realizing that Nol is no longer his brother.

And omg ew? Sang Chul would be??

And I'm never getting over Nol's plastered smile. The sneer. The humans suck line.

The "Convince Me" line.

Girl I'm going thru it.

You totally called it on the theories.

The WORST kind of "OH GOD I KNEW IT" weeks have been happening for me when it comes to ILY lmaoooo and I NEED QUIMCHEE TO GIVE ME A BREAK AND LET ME CATCH MY BREATH!!!!!!!!!!!

Gonna drop my thoughts below the read more! Spoilers spoilers spoilers!!!!!!!!!!

When Elle and I talked about the "Rand isn't Kousuke's father" theory on the fourth episode of our podcast I even talked about how as much as I don't want the theory to be true for Kousuke's sake, narratively it's SO compelling and it just makes SO MUCH SENSE. I remember the first time I read the theory, too, how initially I was like "no way, this feels really out there" but it just stuck with me. I couldn't let it go, I kept going back to that panel, the "you're the sole heir" speech bubble over Nol's face and I think I've just always felt that it meant something, you know? That quimchee would NOT have done that if it didn't mean something, if we weren't supposed to read into it, if it wasn't meant to be the earliest of foreshadowing of this theory.

And to have it actually confirmed!!!!! Just has me SCREAMING but absolutely anticipating what it means for everyone!!!! Because not only does it mean everything Kousuke has ever worked for - the only thing he's ever had to his name, the only career option he's ever had - is taken away from him and thrust to someone who may not even want it, someone who wants to be as far away from this family and this coldblooded, bloodthirsty rivalry as he can get.

Neither of them get any reprieve.

Kousuke never had any other option, and is left with nothing.

Nol will likely be thrust into the heart of everything he wants to excuse himself from, everything he's come to resent and loathe and GOD it's insane to see how it's all unfolding, after all this time!!!!!!!!

I think, too, in thinking about the fact that Nol isn't even Kousuke's brother is that it means re-examining the rawness of 212 and what it means for Kousuke, who believes that he got none of the good traits of Rand that he sees in Nol, the good parts that he's never been privileged enough to see in Rand himself, and that he was left with only the worst parts of him - the cold man with his back turned to him. But it's worse, because none of that was his.

(Please know that I am saying this SO VERY LOOSELY, in the sense of how I imagine Kousuke is thinking this. I'm not a fan of the "Rand suspected Kousuke wasn't his son and that's why he was so cold with him" theories. Frankly, I think they're disgusting and it shows an interesting bias in people in how they perceive biological family to be more worthy over, say, adopted family. I think it's very evident that Rand loves both of his sons and has done the best within his means, but has been dealing with an incredibly controlling tyrant of a wife who has ensured that he had little chance to provide the nurturing he wanted to, who ensured that there was a gap between him and Kousuke so that Kousuke would be forever chasing after him, because she needed him to stay focused on her goal. I refuse to humor conversation that implies Rand loves or favors Nol more because that's his biological son and because Kousuke is, currently suspected to be, the son of a Kim, he has less love for him. That's a disgusting mindset. Biological love does not make someone inherently love their child more. Yui herself proves this. And in that same vein, not being Kousuke's biological father does not excuse Rand's part in Kousuke's neglect and that it was the commodification of his love that has factored into how Kousuke has come to view love in this transactional manner and why he struggles to see his father's true love for what it is. Regardless of whose genetic material fathered him, Rand is the man who raised Kousuke as his son, the man Kousuke saw as his father, and therefore he is Kousuke's father.)

Kousuke has modeled himself after his father in every way, tried so hard to emulate him, to be someone who will make his father proud, who can earn his affection and feels like he hasn't succeeded at that yet - and to find out that the man he has spent his entire life emulating is not, in fact, his father? Is going to CRUSH him. Not because it changes the fact that it was Rand who raised him and Rand to whom Kousuke looked up, but because it's yet another lie in a series of Yui's lies, yet another lie that she has used to manipulate him, to mold him into her pawn, to create him into a likeness of something of her own desire, rather than ever allow him to be his own person.

She lied to him about his father. She whispered paranoia to him about his brother his brother's mother. She made him believe that everyone is out to get them, to tear them down, that because they are better than everyone else he can trust no one. She used these tactics to isolate him and played upon the paranoia and fear that she created and instilled upon him so that when he did rebel and stray from her, when he did try to be his own person and have friends and a life of his own, she could pull him back to where she felt he belonged, at her side. She smothered and suffocated him and manipulated and lied to him and nothing she has done to or for him has ever been honest and even his father is a lie. Even his goals and motivation is a lie.

I know a lot of people still hate Kousuke but it fucks me up. It has me choked up, to think of what it must be like to be him, and to have this bombshell thrust upon you, that everything you believed has been a lie, that your mother has been manipulating you for your whole life, she's been drugging you, you have finally grasped the gravity of the harm you have caused using the justification she has equipped you with. To come to the realization that everything you ever justified was never truly justifiable, that you caused harm that cannot be undone.

How do you come back from that?

How do you deal with that?

And then, to find out that the man you've believed was your father isn't. That the only person who ever offered you unconditional love, whose relationship you've destroyed isn't even your brother, and has no reason to ever turn to look your way ever again.

Kousuke was right. He has no brother.

And it devastates me lmao ;____________;

And I do really think that it means his father is Gun Kim. All of the comparisons to Sangchul and Kousuke have haunted me as much as this theory.

BUT MAN IT'S JUST SO MUCH QUIMCHEE IS JUST OUT HERE WITH A BODY COUNT. MA'AM. SLOW DOWN I CAN'T KEEP UP. Nol is on a warpath and I need him to CHILL.

Actually no you know what was the FUNNIEST thing to me about Nol and his humans suck line? THE FACT THAT MY GIRL SHINAE IS OUT HERE BLUSHING.

GIRL. /GIRL/

She is DOWN BAD. SO FUCKING BAD. LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i can't stand her I love her she's a whole hot mess express I really need to gather myself and drop some thought dump posts over here finally because generally my reaction to all of these episodes lately has been [SCREAMING CAT]

i'm two for two on "dark theories i didn't want to be true but knew in my gut are" and listen. I DON'T KNOW IF I LIKE IT ;_______; HOWLING

[maxwellatoms]

I bought a Gartenmeister Fuchsia plant for my birthday back in January. It was a centerpiece all winter long, but recently it started looking a bit sickly. I'm not a "green" gerdener anymore (haha), but I am also by no means a master. I think it was infected with powdery mildew, but I also convinced myself it was spider mites. I try to keep things all -natural out there, so I dried it out and sprayed it with some neem oil after pruning it back a bit. I really should've pruned off all of the infected bits, but I didn't want to lose the flowers.

I did that a few more times, unable to commit to a hard prune because I kept telling myself "I don't know what I'm doing, so maybe it's not sick. Maybe it'll fix itself. Sure would be nice to have those flowers back." I finally gave up and cut it to the bone yesterday, but yesterday was too late. I had to remove every single leaf because I dithered for too long. It's probably not going to make it.

I feel the same way about our culture. US culture. Western culture (though its really a global problem). The Entertainment Industry. The Media. It's sick. We probably need some rather serious surgery to fix the problem, but we just will not see a doctor. To see a doctor would be to admit there's a problem, and for some that is the greatest sin of the 21st Century. Maybe some of us are just hoping the system will recover on its own so we can have our pretty flowers back.

For me, it was around 2010 or so when I first started to smell something "off". The symptoms had certainly been around a while. This was just when I noticed. This was when I got my first, "Hey, let's not make fun of corporations" note. It's when The History Channel stopped airing stuff about history in favor of aliens because that's where the money was. And rather than rebranding, they just left it as "History", encouraging future generations to believe whatever they felt like. This was also about when traditional news outlets started skewing to clickbait in order to compete with sites that were clearly 100% not legitimate news sites. Again, as long as the money is right it's "just entertainment" and you' can're welcome to believe it if it means you'll watch more.

I'm all-in on Dead Internet Theory now. The disparity between what major news media outlets will report and what you see from actual people on Tumblr or Threads or Reddit is pretty shocking. And those sites are already compromised by bots and bad actors. The tools exist now to actively bamboozle millions of people, and I have no doubt we're already seeing some of this now. In six months or a year you'll find out it (whatever it was) never happened or was generated by an LLM. The time to stop listening to anyone online was a year ago.

Trust no one.

Not even me!

It's cultural rot. It's spreading faster and faster, and I'm not sure what happens when we get to the end of this ride. Actually, I AM sure what happens. If we don't prune back hard now, then the rot takes over. Best-case, you clip the infected branches off too late and it takes years to recover. Worst case? Nature soldiers on but the plant succumbs to infection and dies completely, replaced (eventually) by something that can actually hack it in that spot.

When humans produce art and information, and then comment on that art and information by producing more art and information, we call it "culture". We're moving toward a time when the vast majority of art and ideas we get out eyes on won't be created by humans. Or at the very least won't be created with the purpose of commenting on or enriching the organic human experience. When that happens, what will we call it? What will remain of our culture?

[boldlygoingtohell]

In a weird way, as a Jew, I can kinda take Normal Antisemitism™️.

I mean, I understand where right-wing racists are coming from when it comes to their antisemitism. At the end of the day, theirs just comes from fear, replacement theory, etc… It’s easily identifiable. 2+2=4. Yea its shitty, but I see how they got from A to B and it’s a straight line.

But left-wing antisemitism?? Like, how does that happen? I thought the left was about supporting minority groups, encouraging them to speak and be heard. But all I’m seeing from leftists these days (I myself being super fucking liberal, left, etc…) is just waves and waves of antisemitism. And yes it has to do with Israel, but these people are incapable of criticizing the Israeli government without going “all Jews are responsible!” in the process. It's infuriating.

Are all the the world’s Jews, millions of which live OUTSIDE of Israel, now responsible for Israel’s actions? I'M a stupid American! I’ve never even BEEN to Israel, much less know the intricate details of a geo-political conflict whose complexities go willfully unlearned by armchair activists in favor of yelling in all caps for 140 characters.

But what really gets me, and I mean REALLY get me about the whole situation, is the hypocrisy.

Remember how awful it was when we saw waves of Islamophobic hate crimes after 9/11, American Muslims with no ties to al-Qaeda being targeted for the faith those terrorists claimed to represent?

Or do you remember standing against the wave of anti-Asian hate crimes that was spurned on by COVID falsehoods? The “China virus” as Trump so eloquently put it? You remember being pissed about that, not blaming Asian Americans but standing with them against hate?

And hell, I’ve heard there has been a rash of Islamophobic attacks again because of the Israeli-Gaza conflict. That’s fucking awful, and I will stand against that bull shit because it does not belong here, end of story.

But now there are also antisemitic attacks, hate crimes, being perpetrated around the world. And who are the perpetrators now? The left that stood against everything else. There's no widespread ally-ship for Jews like me. There's no sweeping social media campaign, no catchy hashtag, no ice bucket challenge.

Why am I allowed to be condemned for what a country on the other side of the world is doing, when I have nothing to do with it? Why can I have the finger pointed at me when I don’t want the fighting in the first place? Why must Jews be allowed to be the target of this ire when it's already been decided that other ethnicities/religions don't deserve it either?

Now, I am PROUD to be Jewish; it is my culture, in my heritage, in my literal blood. It is in my genetics, my bones, my spoken language, it is in the holidays I celebrate, the philosophies I live by.

But it is also in the generational trauma of my mother insisting I have a passport as a young child, not because we were traveling, but in case we had to flee. It is in her inherent distrust of the government; a card-carrying Democrat all her life, she would always remind me, "if you don't think the government can't turn on you, you're kidding yourself." It is her constant reminders that as a Jew, our assimilation is conditional, our acceptance is political. I felt these, but never as strongly as she did. Not until now.

I am third generation American, and yet I feel like an outsider in the only country I have ever known. People who I thought understood, who were my friends, who marched with me against the injustices of the world, are now calling after Jews to answer for Israel's actions.

I say I don't want the violence to persist and I'm told that I'm, "one of the good ones". I'm told hurt Israelis don't deserve sympathy because, "all Jews are rich anyway, right? Who cares." I tell them my fears about the rising antisemitism and wearing my star of david necklace out. I'm told, "it doesn't matter, you're white anyway."

For the first time in my life, the racists aren't just some crazy KKK members. They're not just Nazis marching around with beer bellies and ill fitting helmets. It's not just some screeching street preacher who claims I'm going to hell after he caught the glint off my star of david necklace. If needs be, I can kick and punch my way out of those. They're just idiots. Isolated, concentrated incidents. It'd be a good story to tell at a bar the next day though a gap-toothed smile and a sling on my shoulder.

But now, both sides are coming after me and my people. Now, it's not just idiots who have all of their views backwards; it's people I thought I could trust to have my back, to go down swinging with me against those Nazis. Right. Left. It's everywhere. There's no escape.

It's coming from all sides. It's coming from social media platforms, from dinners with friends, from posters on street lamps.

I live in one of the safest, most Jewish neighborhoods in America, and for the first time in my life I am truly scared.

[notmorbid]

even as we breathe.

dialogue prompts from even as we breathe: a novel by annette saunooke clapsaddle.

my plan didn't quite work the way i thought it would.

you sure have a way with words.

should i be afraid?

empathy is fossilized in our bones.

if you keep your mouth shut and your ears open, you might just learn a thing or two.

there's rumors about this place, you know.

sometimes i poke fun when i'm on edge.

i want to be respected, not respectable.

just ignore me. heck, everyone else does.

have you ever felt like everybody was staring at you?

your demeanor is distinctly unwelcoming.

humility has its place.

don't do anything to get yourself fired.

nothing scary about nothingness. it's the something you should be afraid of.

you didn't play games going up?

i never feel like people are telling me the whole truth.

everyone has their own take, their own theory.

biblical references aren't exactly my forte.

but how will i know when i'm done?

you don't need to lie to make me feel better.

it's just how i was raised.

tell me about your family.

i'm surprised you don't already know all my business. everybody else sure does.

you speak of the dead so easily.

thought i might have to wake you for dinner.

is this your hiding place?

i'm not scared. i'm mad.

you make odysseus look like a joyrider.

not all love is made of equal parts.

what's wrong with you today?

everything okay back home?

it's not forever. just try to remember that.

just trying to stay out of trouble.

you can't prepare yourself for things like this.

you knew and you didn't tell me.

it's too early in the morning for ghost stories.

you were always my soft place to land.

i need you to see me.

i thought i was protecting you.

i do care about you. you're my best friend.

something about war buddies ties people together forever.

there's always at least an ounce of truth in storytelling.

sometimes i think you've seen more than you've told me.

i can't imagine leaving without you.

you truly can be such a raincloud.

i got used to it. i didn't know anything else.

i don't mean to lay a bunch of heavy stuff on you.

sometimes the answers are not the ones you want to hear.

sometimes you have to decide if you want truth or peace.

i can't believe we're having a conversation about this.

what's happening to me?

i'm not sure i'd be able to teach you, but i can try.

i don't mind listening. listening is easy.

i'm sure you'll find the right home, in the end.

sometimes not knowing your own story is the most damaging thing of all.

i once had to be quiet to survive.

i thought i told you i didn't want to see you again.

you sure can't catch a break, can you?

i never knew how to ask.

you're too mean to let anything keep you down for too long.

nobody deserves to die alone.

you've used me up.

do you think i love ____ more than i love you?

i do love you. i always will. but we have to accept the hands we're dealt.

when i was young, i wanted nothing more than to get as far away from here as i could get.

[adonneniel]

Ok, after finishing Veilguard and sleeping on it, my final impression remains disappointment and frustration. Spoilerific thoughts beneath the cut. Long post. Maybe a bit ranty/incoherent in parts, but I don't feel like going back to edit.

Positives, in no particular order:

The game is beautiful, even on (mostly) medium settings. Despite wishing for a few more wavy options, the hair is perfection and I honestly can't complain.

On a related note, the character creator is amazing. Customizing body & face tattoos! Height and weight sliders!!! I wish the bust and glute sliders went a further, but whatever. I can live. I like that we can import our characters on a new save, and I hope they patch in an option to do that with the Inquisitor as well.

Mechanically it was fun to play

THE BLOOD OF ARLATHAN QUEST. Absolute perfection. Everything I wanted out of this game. I felt hopeless and overwhelmed. My skin crawled. My gut clenched. The horrors of the Venatori were on full display & served as an excellent parallel to the rise of irl facism. And Solas an Elgar'nan exchanging insults inside my head?? I was giddy. I felt the centuries of compounding animosity mixed with grudging respect. I felt utterly out of my depths and it was wonderful. (And LMAO at the one dude fangirling over Rook)

The siege at Weisshaupt was pretty good too. I like failing. It makes the stakes feel real.

I loved the fresh take on Necromancy. Like, yessssss, make it beautiful and romantic and haunting! It's such a interesting departure from necromancy = gross & evil. They even made it mesh with spirit lore and kept the question of an afterlife alive.

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain's relationship. I was not expecting them to genuinely care for one another. It did a good job humanizing them & helped balance out the "muahahaha evil" vibe.

I actually didn't mind the magitech-ness. It makes sense that the ancient elves perfected magic to that point, and Tevinter really felt like a knock off version built on the elven empire's bones. It still looked fantasy overall.

I like most of the lore reveals. They were well foreshadowed and, no, I don't get the impression that they just decided to randomly make all the popular theories true. Even if that's the case for a few, they still make sense. (Though I can understand why people might be let down by all "the elves did it!!")

Fighting alongside Solas at the end was fun. Directing my companions during the final fight was fun. I liked that some of them could die (and did--poor Harding)

Solas in general honestly. I didn't find him out of character, just more openly desperate than he was in Inquisition. I also don't hate his dynamic with Mythal like some people, though I understand why it's divisive.

All that said, the negatives still outweigh the positives.

The writing felt timid. Like they were scared to offend anyone so they just decided to ignore the messy parts of their lore and/or hide it behind codex entries that most players probably don't even read.

All those lore drops and we barely had time to sit with them or deal with cultural consequences. Especially when religion is such a huge part of culture? You can't just disprove it and expect people to move on in a few conversations. The Dalish especially should be a wreck.

Tevinter was a disappointment after all the build up we've gotten over last three games. And no, I don't accept southern propaganda and events happening off screen as an excuse. It just reeks of lazy writing. Dorian and Mae's political party failed. Fenris and Dorian are primary sources. Tevinter is fucked up and we should've seen it explicitly on screen, not just limited to a few nasty individuals and codex entries. Instead of a racist, mage run slave state, we got a generic corrupt city with the unique bits alluded to. If you want to argue that it's just because we were in dock town, so obviously we wouldn't be seeing the decadent mage aristocracy...that's just an excuse. The writers didn't have to make that choice.

Wtf did they do to the Crows??? The assassins built on brutality and child slavery are now just being presented as freedom fighters??? Don't try to tell me Zevran reformed things behind the scenes. That's just another excuse for lazy writing (not to mention that he's dead in some player's worldstates). They didn't even deal with Lucanis' abusive upbringing! And it was right there!

The Lords of Fortune are a joke. Pirates Against Cultural Appropriation. Seriously? Combined with that codex entry trying to convince us that their fighting pit is purely volunteer based and death free?? Nah. I don't buy it. They were ultimately useless to the plot and even to the worldbuilding. I learned absolutely nothing about Rivain that hasn't already been told to us in past games (and they didn't even take the chance to show us those things! We just got an empty beach and a few background npcs.)

Tbh this all just feels like another symptom of the game's timid writing. We're good people who only ally with other good people. There's no "enemy of my enemy is my friend". There's no faction with ulterior motives. There's not even a political quagmire we have to navigate to get the Good Ones on our side. The closest we get is the First Warden. And tbh the Wardens are the only faction I felt was truly well written and well integrated into the overall plot. The Mourn Watch was interesting, but they mostly did their own thing over in the corner.

God, don't even get me started on the elves. No existential dilemmas when their gods are running rampant. Even the major god revelations happened off screen! The Veil Jumpers already knew! Lazy lazy lazy.

AND. AND they somehow projected their white guilt onto the most persecuted minority in Thedas! I wanted to crawl out of my skin every time someone apologized for what their people (the gods) did to the world. And to make it worse, they barely, barely, showed anti-elf racism on screen. A few throwaway lines are laughable in the face of that. As a jew--one of the groups DA elves are inspired by--I'm insulted and disgusted.

And someone pointed out that a Crow codex used the phrase "Never Again" in relation to the Dales? Get that phrase out of your mouth, Bioware.

In a similar vein, their treatment of the Antaam reeked of racism and orientalism, even moreso than usual. Big brutes yelling in a scary language with artificially low voices?? Barely dressed? We don't even get to talk with one until the end of the game? Other people have explained it better than me, so I'll leave it at this.

"Why do you want racism in your game? Are you secretly a racist edgelord in real life? Do you get off on people calling you a knife-ear? Do you just want an excuse to be a piece of shit?"

NO. I want good writing. I want realism. If you're going to include racism in your worldbuilding (which Dragon Age does), you have to own it. You have to deal with it. You can't just sweep it under the carpet because you want to avoid more controversy. The absence in Veilguard makes it look worse. You can't pat yourself on the back for angering the anti-woke brigade while perpetuating your own racist tropes. Do the writers even know they're being racist, or do they think it's all ok because the player isn't allowed to be fantasy racist?

Taash's story is a good example. Why the fuck are we put in charge of deciding their culture for them? Why is it tied to their gender? As a cis person I won't comment on the gender bits (I've heard conflicting opinions), but the culture aspect is handled terribly. Seriously. What the actual fuck, Bioware?

The companion situation has been beat to death, but I mostly agree with the criticism that everything is too HR-friendly. And I honestly can't believe those Taash/Emmrich and Harding/Emmerich intervention scenes actually made it through editing. I felt like a fucking preschool teacher lecturing children on how to play nicely. bad bad bad

I don't, however, think the companions are awful. They just kinda bored me. Or maybe not bored, but...didn't grab me? I like some of them, but I don't love them. There's no one I latched onto that makes me go feral. But I can accept that it's a matter of preference. I'm glad some people are happy, and I don't mean that sarcastically.

Maybe I'd feel differently if the game wasn't marketed as "found family"?

More personal preference: I don't like Rook, and I don't like their relationship with the companions. It feels too sterile & corporate, and Rook feels simultaneously too blank and too defined. And the defined bits of their personality are not for me. Dialogue options weren't diverse enough in feel.

LOL at not allowing the player to asshole options, but then the best we can give Harding is "Haha, no idea what you're talking about but good for you. Bye."

Also the game couldn't seem to decide whether my Rook was Dalish or not? According to the mirror I'm not, but then Rook outright says she's Dalish later in the game... Which is it, Bioware? Which is it?

THEY DELETED SOUTHERN THEDAS OFFSCREEN.

The illuminati secret ending is an awful decision. Way to take agency away from some of the more interesting antagonists. And this was obviously a retcon? There was no buildup to this. At most they were toying with the concept in DA:I, which is when the Executors were introduced.

It's hard to think of this game as a love letter to the fans when these last two points feel like a huge middle finger to everything that came before.

Yeah. Just...yeah.

Disappointment and frustration. All the building blocks for a great game are there, but they just...didn't come to fruition.

I might do another playthrough, but I also I might just take what I like from the lore and go back to previous games + my silly crossover fanfic. And BG3. That obsession was only just taking root when DATV came out, and I didn't get a chance to sit with it.

I'm sad.

[k-s-morgan]

Hiiii! Could you perhaps post a snippet of Atlwetd next chapter?

Hi! Yes, sure, I finally prepared something.

-----

“Can we not do this now?” Harry asked tiredly. His eyelids felt so heavy that he feared he might be physically unable to keep his eyes open. “The match starts in thirty minutes. I still need to force myself to eat something and to change. I’ve had a very bad night, and considering that I’ll have to evade Bludgers not just from Hufflepuffs but also from our own Beater while looking for the Snitch, my chances aren’t good. So I’d really appreciate it if you stopped adding yourself to my list of nuisances today!”

His outburst didn’t impress Riddle. He continued to study him, his eyes sharp and dissatisfied.

“Explain to me why you are so eager to defend some half-breed when you refuse to defend yourself,” he said. Clearly, he chose to dismiss Harry’s words altogether.

Aggravation stirred in his stomach, and Harry almost growled with it. Damn Riddle. Why could he never back off?

“Because I can take care of myself,” he snapped. The corners of Riddle’s mouth twitched.

“You had a bad night,” he echoed sardonically. “You are about to enter the field where you’ll have to evade Bludgers not just from Hufflepuffs but also from Graytwig, all the while looking for the Snitch. As you have eloquently put it, your chances aren’t good. So how exactly does that translate to you being able to take care of yourself?”

His headache grew worse. The pain pulsed in his temples, radiating unpleasant heat, and it took a huge effort to stop himself from yelling.

Sometimes it was completely impossible to deal with Riddle. He was like a dog with a bone, and he must have really hated Harry getting into trouble to protect Hagrid if he continued to harass him about it.

“Graytwig didn’t manage to knock me off my broom the last time and I won’t let him do it today,” Harry uttered through gritted teeth. His temper continued to crackle dangerously, and he knew he had to step carefully. “Hagrid is defenceless. I am not. Is that enough for you or do you—”

“You aren’t defenceless in theory,” Riddle pointed out darkly. His eyes flashed. “But as you refuse to defend yourself, I think the word fits. You haven’t followed my advice. You did nothing to make it clear that you are not to be interfered with. What do you think is going to happen today?”

That’s it.

“I don’t care!” Harry shouted. He knew that everyone who was still in the common room would hear him, but at the moment, it barely registered with him. “Let him do his worst! If Slytherin is that eager to lose, who am I to disappoint them?”

Riddle pursed his lips. Harry couldn’t tell what he was thinking and he was beyond caring. Jerking his tie in a fruitless attempt to make it look presentable, he crossed the bedroom and walked towards the stairs, bypassing Riddle. Or trying to. Because when he came close enough, Riddle grabbed him by his hand, gripping his index finger and twisting it back. His other hand wrapped around Harry’s waist, jerking him closer, and all his angry thoughts instantly vacated his mind. Harry stared, shocked into speechlessness.

Riddle was unexpectedly close. Throughout the months Harry had spent in his company, he had memorised his features well, but this close, they gained a new disturbing layer of almost supernatural beauty.

This, the arm around his waist, and the way Riddle was staring quickly sent a rush of blood to his head. Harry tried to recoil as his heart pounded unevenly, the remnants of his thoughts racing forward but failing to form any coherent conclusion.    

It was some��� some mockery of an embrace. Despite the unbearable closeness, Riddle’s face remained dispassionate, his eyes calculating and cold in their assessment. Worse, he continued to crush Harry’s finger in his fist, slowly but unwaveringly bending it back.

“Have you ever tried to fly with broken bones?” he asked. “To catch the Snitch with numb fingers? How about sitting on a broom that keeps sending electric shocks through you whenever you change direction? Because these are the most innocent plans I know for a fact Graytwig has been nurturing. Are you still prepared to walk out there and ignore him?”

Blood kept roaring through Harry’s ears so loudly that it took him a while to interpret what Riddle was saying to him. Something was smouldering in his chest, in his stomach — his whole body felt on fire, and not in a good way. The confusing mix of fascination with Riddle’s face, the pain in his finger, and trepidation electrified every nerve ending he had, and all Harry wanted was to shake himself out of this daze and regain normalcy, whatever normalcy meant these days.

“I have,” he said finally. His voice came out rough, and he frowned at this. “I played Quidditch with a broken hand and I still caught the Snitch. I fell from my broom because I lost consciousness and it didn’t stop me from being ready to play again after I recovered. And if I feel that something is wrong with my broom—”

“You fell?” Riddle interrupted him. He stopped his assault briefly, but his grip remained unyielding, and Harry almost hissed in pain. “From that height? That is blatant suicide. I assume you survived because I caught you with my magic.”

“What?” Harry’s frown deepened. “You didn’t. It was Dumbledore.”

The brief flare of surprise on Riddle’s face mirrored his confusion. He almost made a step back, although his grip on Harry’s waist only tightened.

“Why wouldn’t I catch you?” he wondered slowly. “You could have died.”

“I don’t know, but you didn’t!” For a moment, Harry felt genuinely dismayed, but then the awareness flooded him, and he swallowed back more words that were swirling on the tip of his tongue.

What was wrong with him? Of course Riddle hadn’t caught him — Riddle didn’t exist in his world, there was only Voldemort!

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he added awkwardly. “I survived. And the point is, I really doubt that Graytwig can do anything new to surprise me. I’m not going to attack him first just to maybe prevent something I can deal with.”

Riddle’s eyes narrowed. Something dangerous flickered there, and then he jerked Harry’s finger back with such malicious force that the bone snapped. Harry cried out, half in pain, half in surprise. The same moment, Riddle finally let him go, stepping back and watching him silently.

Clenching his teeth to avoid making any new sounds, Harry stared at his finger in angry disbelief. It was broken, no doubts here. Right before his match. Why would Riddle keep warning him about Graytwig just to go ahead and attack him himself?

He didn’t know what to do about it. Confusion and shock paralysed him briefly, and Harry glanced at Riddle, cradling his hurt hand against his chest.

How was he supposed to respond? By attacking Riddle back? But… it was just a finger. It felt strange to curse Riddle over this. Punching him would definitely be satisfying, but Harry wasn’t sure he could do it as long as they weren’t involved in an active confrontation.

Sending Riddle a glare, he turned away and stormed from the dormitory, skipping over some stairs to put more distance between them faster. To his frustration, Riddle followed him.

Some Slytherins were still loitering in the common room, including Graytwig. He gave Harry a long derisive stare, and the hostile challenge in it instantly proved that Riddle had been telling the truth. Graytwig was planning something, emboldened by Harry’s lack of reaction.

Disgust welled up inside him, and Harry walked to the door, too fed up to stay here a second later. With the corner of his eye, he saw Riddle emerge. Everyone immediately fell silent. Ignoring them, Riddle traced Harry’s steps, moving towards the exit, but when he reached Graytwig, he paused, subjecting him to a long, chilling stare.

“Do not,” he warned. Without waiting for a reply, he crossed the rest of the distance and opened the door, giving Harry an expectant look.      

[evangelical04]

a little snippet would be okay only if it’s okay for u. maybe in this way we can some theories and ask u and u would be motivated with our interest? (idk if this makes sense but i hope u get what i mean) take care of yourself tho. uni is hard especially last year of it.

oh my goodness this reply is so sweet, thank you so much, I honestly feel more motivated already just because of this. Uni is definitely already kicking my ass this semester, but we're powering through! Thank you so much for your support <33 As promised, a snippet is there below!

“To be totally transparent,” you took a deep breath, was this really what you wanted to do? There could be devastating consequences, but you felt in your bones that you wanted to be completely honest with him. You satiated your nerves by reminding yourself that you had your own apartment to go back to should Yoongi’s reaction be extremely negative.

“Even before we got married,” another deep breath, you could do this. This wasn’t such a big deal, you didn’t even have very deep feelings for him, they felt superficial. So with that logic, you told yourself, a rejection wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“I’ve had a sort of crush on you,” there was no turning back from here. You had told yourself you weren’t planning on confessing, yet here you were, baring your soul. Your eyes were turned downward, afraid of seeing Yoongi’s reaction, the only thing you heard being a surprised exhale at your statement. Your fingers entangled with one another in a nervous tic as you slowly lifted your gaze to meet Yoongi’s. 

His eyebrows were knitted together, in what expression, you weren’t sure. His eyes held an emotion you couldn’t read. His mouth was pursed in a sentiment you couldn’t decipher. Why was he so difficult to read? Why couldn’t you tell what he was thinking? It only made you more nervous. You had tried to quell your fears by telling yourself that your feelings were too shallow to warrant being so upset at a rejection, but you knew that it would still be devastating to you. When did your heart ever listen to logic?

Let me know what you guys think! honestly, this is such a good idea, I'd love to try something else out to get my motivation up: would you guys be interested in a mini q/a about the characters/stories or questions to the characters themselves? I think it'd be helpful for me to get more into the story and the minds of my characters, and hopefully fun for you all! also you're welcome to just scream at this version of yoongi lol. let me know what you guys think of the idea!! thank you guys again for being so patient :))

[iamcherryblessed]

Rosaline // Alec Volturi: Chapter Two

Summary: “How the blood rushed into my cheeks” Rosaline was no stranger to hard work, she’s been working as a maid for as far back as she can remember. Starting off as a scullery maid and ending up as a Lady’s Maid for the fearsome Jane Volturi. She’s just trying to keep her head on her shoulders and her heart beating, what happens when she catches the eye of her Lady’s stoic twin brother? What does Alec Volturi want with a lowly maid?  “So scarlet, it was maroon” Series masterlist

Chapter Two

This is a strange castle. As servants we’re taught not to let our eyes wonder, not to ask questions and most definitely not to let our minds run wild with theories. There will always be idle gossip between maids but it will never be confirmed. The normal whispers that flow through the walls of a noble family consist more of affairs or who we think will be next to marry. The ones in this house are much more sinister, much more confusing. The older maids, who have somehow survived to work here for multiple years, try to discourage any chatter about the Masters. They say we don’t need to know, to keep quiet and keep our heads down. I have yet to see the Masters in person, I’ve heard about their red eyes and how they don’t sleep. How each member is impossibly beautiful and beautifully cruel. On every third day of the week, all servants are required to stay in their quarters until late afternoon. We try to talk amongst ourselves but the blood curdling screams ring out and bounce off every wall in the entire castle. I had experienced two, the sounds of their scream echoed in my bones and made it impossible to sleep that night. At first the other maids comforted me but now they say I will get used to it, it’s just something that comes with the work.

Annie sat me down when I first started to tell me who each of the Masters were, as the head housemaid it is her duty to ensure all of the maids in the castle are doing their work properly. It’s a role she takes very seriously. There are three main Masters; Aro, Caius and Marcus. Those are the three who are in charge, they are the head of the household, we are to refer to them as Master. A step down from the Masters is; Chelsea, Jane and Alec. The rest of the members are Heidi, Demetri and Felix. Apparently the family has a strict hierarchy to adhere to but no matter how low down they are from the Master’s they will always be a lot higher up on the social ladder than any of us. Just before Annie gave me the news of my new position she made sure to let me know about Lady Jane. She gave me a list of things to avoid doing and some things that she knows Lady Jane approves of, she warned me of her temper which has only increased since her twin brother Alec had been away. According to Annie the two are inseparable so if I was to serve Lady Jane I would also serve Alec too. He went away the week before I arrived, there had been no whispers of where or why he went, and until he came back Lady Jane would continue to torment.

I awoke with a start, my heartbeat racing against my chest. Taking a deep breath I focused on the mirror across the room, my heart calming down. Only to jump again when another thud was heard. Light floated into the room from the small window at the top of the wall, the sun had yet to rise so I knew it was sometime before 6:00. I gently raised from the bed and softly got dressed for the day. I knew to be as quiet as possible and to make my steps as feather light as I could. 

“Girl.” If not for the stern demanding tone of the word, the voice itself could almost be musical. It was officially my first day as Lady Jane’s maid. I stepped into her room as quickly as she spoke, my head tilted down and arms clasped respectfully behind my back.

“Yes, Ma’am” I responded, I felt my heart stutter in fear, as if she heard it, I could practically feel her smirk in response.

“Ah, a new girl. Tell me, did you know of the last?” Her tone was teasing, how could one speak so lightly over death? 

“No, Ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am, I did not meet her,” I whispered back. I knew to be quiet but I could not trust my voice to be any louder than a whisper.

“Speak up, girl. I do not care if you knew her. You know what happened to her, do you not.” It wasn’t a question, it was a warning. Of course I know what happened to Hattie, I know what happened to most of the maids that she got annoyed by or tired of. 

“I do, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now get me ready for the day.” 

The morning was spent getting Lady Jane ready for an important meeting with the Masters in the late afternoon. Her twin brother, Alec, is due back today. I overheard her speak to Lady Chelsea about it while I was running her bath. Most Ladies like their maids to bathe them but I was forewarned that Lady Jane liked privacy so as soon as the bath was filled, I nodded and left the room. I got the clothes ready for her day and laid them out on the plush four poster bed that stood in the middle of her large room. My room could fit inside here 15 times over. 

“Girl, I am ready.” Lady Jane’s commanding voice drew me out of my thoughts. I stood by the bathroom door and slightly lifted my head as she came out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped tightly around her body. She came to stop in the middle of the room as her eyes ran out of the black dress I had chosen for her. “My brother bought me this dress.” She hummed, a rush ran through my body thinking I had correctly chosen. “Now, girl.”

“Yes, Ma’am” I hurried over to her, careful to keep my footsteps light. It didn’t take long for Lady Jane to be dressed yet she still seemed impatient as if she could do a corset up a quarter of the time it took me. However, any amount of appreciation I got from choosing the right dress completely disappeared when it came to doing her hair. My fingers clumsily attempting to braid her hair, I could see the annoyance darken her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” I stuttered, I could feel my eyes brim with tears as I worried how she would react.

“Just get it done.” her tone was clipped and frustrated.

“Yes, Ma’am” I nodded, my hands shakily undoing the mess of the plait I had created. My fingers softly combed through her hair, instead of going back to braiding, I twisted the strands together to create an elegant updo. 

As soon as I was finished I stepped back, my head turned down and my hands behind my back. Lady Jane stood up and swiftly turned to face me, her expression thunderous. I should’ve asked Annie or one of the other maids to teach me to braid properly, if I’d have known it was one of Lady Jane’s favourite hairstyles I would have practised every spare moment. Her eyes narrowed on me and in the next second all I could feel was an imaginable amount of pain spread through my body, it was like my blood was on fire. My knees buckled as I fell to the floor but I could hardly focus on anything other than the agony coursing through my body.

And then all of a sudden it stopped. I gasped as I abruptly remembered how to breathe, trying to get as much air as possible into my lungs. “Get up, girl.” Lady Jane sounded bored, she looked at me uninterested as I attempted to stand up. My legs were unsteady, I was like a fawn standing up for the first time. Lady Jane was already at her bedroom door by the time I was fully stood up.

“Learn how to braid.” Lady Jane said before she opened the door and walked towards the throne room. I quickly followed after her, my legs moving before my brain commanded them too. I stayed a few paces behind, close enough if she was to need me but not too close to seem familiar. 

My mind was racing, I didn’t understand why her eyes were red, why she didn’t sleep or how she managed to cause all that pain without even touching me. I fought with my mind to forget those thoughts, I just had to be better than I wouldn’t have to go through that again. 

Waiting outside the throne room I made eye contact with a male servant of one of the Masters. My watery eyes, shaky breathing and unreliable legs must have given away what had happened for he gave a sympathetic smile. I just turned away with my head down. The servants are not allowed in the throne room, we are permitted to wait outside in silence or we were to do a job if ordered. 

We stood outside for a while before all of a sudden the massive double doors were thrown open, I kept my head down and tried to not show the fear that was bubbling inside. I knew my heart beat gave me away. In an instant a figure was in front of me, a cold finger rested below my chin and tenderly lifted my head up. He was gorgeous. They all were but this man was breathtakingly stunning. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as if it had recently had a hand brush through it, his eyes–like the others–were a wonderful red, I could see them swirling with emotions but none I could confidently pick out. His lips are full and were a pretty shade of pink, I wanted nothing more to reach out and gently swipe my finger across them. His eyes met mine, my heart lurched and breath hitched.

[girlywritesfics]

This is another twilight Saga fanfic.

Begins in new moon, when Bella jumps off the cliff; though it's not because of Edward..

In my version, she mysteriously gets sick

Nobody knows what's wrong with her. She hears voices that led to the cliff.

*I do not own these characters*

Bella stared at the water below mezmerized and ready to jump; she didn't know why she was so entranced by the waves hitting the rocks below her. Her body was weak, but she was so drawn to the fresh water.

She looked up when she heard his voice, Edward's voice.

For some reason, made her nauseous and seeing him in her head caused her to flinch away.

"Bella ...please don't!" He begged, but she just swiped him away and jumped.

As soon as she fully engulfed herself in the water, she experienced the worst pain.

Her entire body was breaking before her eyes. She let out a scream underwater, so no one could hear.

Confusion and panic swirling in her mind when she realized that she wasn't drowning; she couldn't believe her eyes, when she found that she can see clearly.

She felt her teeth start shifting into fangs and scales forming on her entirebody.

A new type of pain shot through her legs that fused together; creating a fish tail a blue-grey color.

Bella stopped thinking like a human and more like a predator, when she saw a red haired woman swimming towards her at a rapid pace. Bella acting out of pure predatory instict, swam directly to her even faster.

Victoria was frightened by what she was, she panicked and abandoned her plans of revenge. she tried to swim to the surface , but was too late.

Bella grabbed her ankle, dragged her further down and took her head off with one swing of an arm.

She then felt another familiar presence and getting closer, it was Jacob.

Jacob's faint eyesight under the surface was no help, but he could still make out that it was Bella. As soon he grabbed her arm to pull her up, but she turned around so fast.She was undeniably beautiful, she always has been in his eyes as she was in others, but he knew that as enchanting as she looked, Bella was dangerous in that moment. She scratched his chstartled by her scaly appearance and the florescen, t tail.

He began to swim back to the surface, but when she pulled him down he pulled himself out of her grip, he hits his head hard and knocked himself our.

She looked at him and it was as if she could feel his heart. His love for Billy, the pack, for her; she couldn't let him go.

Like a lightswitch, Bella was back.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the surface; she swam quickly with both her arms around his waist. She managed to lift him out and lay on top of a dock near the beach.

Realizing she could breathe, she pulled herself up and let her scales fade away, as her bones shifted back to normal. She noticed th, at her hair was no longer dark brown, but a light gold, kind of like Edward's eyes.

The thought of him made her nauseous and realized she was naked. She looked at Jacob, s⁹she relaxed to find him still unconscious and breathing. She didn't know what else to do so she decided to take his shirt knowing he wouldn't be needing it to stay warm , also she was naked. She pulls the shirt on and covered everything; Jacob woke up coughing soon after and she feared his reaction to the strangeness of the scenario that just occurred.

To her surprise, he stayed calm and stared at her; looking in those big brown eyes that he loved so much.

"You changed your hair?" He pointed out with a smirk which earned him a laugh.

"Really, you choose now to joke around!?"

She became serious and frowned.

"Jacob I'm so sorry! It was l was possessed, I couldn't remember you and then I did, i don't know what's happening to me." Breaking down and crying, expecting him to hate her for saying ¹that; instead he hugged her and had a theory.

He needed his dad to confirm it.

"Bella it's ok," looking at in her eyes and confidently said, " ...we will figure it out together, I promise, I'm not going anywhere...ever."

With tears in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"We'll talk to my dad in the morning, ok, I'll drive you home,,." Noticing the only thing she was wearing his t-shirt.

She felt his gaze and realized.

"Sorry, I'll give it back j-" trying her best to avoid his eyes.

"No. Keep it, it looks good on you..." he said and let out a giggle once he saw Bella blushing like crazy over his words.

"Come on, I'll take you home. Are you ok or do-" as shirt she's she'as she got up, she came tumbling down letting out a pained cry. Jacob caught her and carried her to her truck and snuggled up to Jacob.

He drove her home, with a slight smile when she laid her head on his shoulder and put her face in the crook of his neck. It was a quiet ride to her dad's house, but Charlie wasn't home; he just parked in front of the house, he commented:

" I'm sorry about Harry..." she said out of nowhere.

"...you know about what happened to Harry?"

"...I felt it...I'm so sorry, especially for Seth and Leah."

"She felt him?"

He thought to himself, stunned that she could feel when someone gets hurt or even dies; she feels pain and sadness, like the pack does.

"...yeah, me too,..my dad's helping out over at sue clearwater's..." The remorse in her voice as well as his.

They arrived at the front of Charlie's house

"...Victoria's dead..." that caught him off guard.

"Wha-" She cut him off to explain. "I just remember everything hur,t and I saw her swimming towards me, so I kinda..." she didn't have to finish for he knew the ending.

" seriously.. .Paul is gonna be so disappointed..." he said humorously, causing Bella to chuckle. "Kinda wish I could've been there to see it." She let out a giggle that made his smile get wider.

All of a sudden, she decided to get closer because she was so cold and tired; she subconsciously moved to sit on his lap, pulled her knees to her chin, wrapped her arms around her neck and stuck her face in the crook of his neck; he was surprised by her sudden advances, but welcomed her close proximity by wrapping his arms around her.

She was exhausted and knew the shirt she was wearing covered everything.

"....do you want me to bring you inside?"

"...can we just stay here for a while?" He smiled to himself.

"Yeah..."

They both fell asleep, until Bella woke up seconds before Jacob, sensing a vampire.

"Alice's car..."

[butterflies-and-blades]

Session 7: Questions

In the morning, I was stiff and achy. My neck and back were the worst off, but my tail bone was not much better. Falling to the ground without a chance to brace yourself will do that. I awoke beside Verca, still in Talo's room, who seemed just as uncomfortable after our night spent propped against a wall. I pulled myself to my feet first and offered a hand to help him up. Rather used to looking up at him-- no different than how things were with Dad or Da--, it was a bit odd to be the one looking down at another for once. The reversal was short lived, though; he was quick to take the assistance and returned to his full height while I was still registering the shift in perspective.

Uncovered by Verca's upright movement was a series of scorch marks that discolored the wood that had previously been pressed against his back. While the burn-scarred wall was not an expected sight, I cannot say its presence was the most shocking, either, given Verca's penchant for fire. At the time, I had not asked about it because of that very inclination, but perhaps I should ask if something had troubled him in his sleep when I next get the chance. In the moment, I had still been too shaken by my own dream to give him the proper focus; maybe I can make up for that during our walk. Although I do not want to pry too much either, especially after what one of the things inside of me has already put him through.

Verca and I were not alone in our night of weird dreams, apparently. Talo also experienced a weird dream and woke with sand on their face. They were particularly disturbed by the dream since they claimed to not dream, which was very odd. Despite the lack of religious influences at home, I was fairly confident that this sounded related to the influence of some deity or similar higher being. Dreams are not uncommon venues for such entities to do their work from what I can tell, and something like that would certainly have the power to implant a dream in the mind of someone who usually does not have them. Verca also raised the theory that Talo might not be from this plane. He pointed to their lack of memories before the age of five as potential support for his theory, but it seemed like an unfair connection to make. That is a relatively standard place for coherent memories to start.

The unsettling events of last night were then made even more troubling when Talo shared that there is a second voice in my head, which they encountered after we had collapsed. They interacted with a masculine voice that held itself in a kinder manner than the one they encountered in previous meetings with the Mask. Some of the details were reminiscent of my dream from last night, but I find that more concerning than comforting. The existence of a second voice aligns with the dream's use of "we," but imagining how many things actually comprise this "we" makes my stomach twist in a vaguely nauseating way. I am petrified that I may have made a deal that I do not understand when I shook that figure's hand. Talo was less concerned with that since there was no outlined contract, but we cannot actually know what happened.

Verca asked more about my dream, and I gave what details I could. Something on his face shifted while I was talking. He also verified that I had said I was an elf yesterday--which I had--and my age--twenty-four. The relevancy of those details only made me more confused. When I asked what was wrong, he resisted answering. He said he did not want to say out of kindness, but all of this endless not knowing what is wrong with me has been creating the most horrible feelings that I do not know how to handle. I have never felt like this before.

I kept pushing, and I did get an answer: "I think the thing in your head killed my mother." I cannot image forgetting those words or the look on his face when he said then. The six golden wings were how he knew. He went on to say that I was too young to have been there when it happened, but I feel terrible for making him travel with the perpetrator regardless. Even if I was not physically there, how can he see me as anything but a terrible reminder of what was taken from him? Knowing that the killer is hiding just out of sight inside of me, how could he bear sharing a room together?

During our walk to find the ex-bandits, I made sure Talo stood between us so he could have a reprieve from the breathing reminder as much as possible.

We found the ex-bandits in a run-down tavern and asked them about potentially helping us scout the desert for "Rosi." I was impressed that instead of immediately demanding coin for their services, they offered a potentially time-saving alternative. They told us about an old dragon skeleton in the desert that sat a few miles before the next city over, Greston. The skeleton was commonly used by criminals as a hide out, and they recommended looking there for her.

After a short discussion amongst ourselves--which included another argument about how to handle "Rosi," leading to Verca calling us fools and inexperienced for thinking bringing her back here would lead to anything other than her death and that it was cruel to drag her back for something we could do ourselves--, we decided to follow the information about the skeleton. We also decided to visit John to confirm what he would like done with her, considering his own investment in her fate since she took away a member of his family. Talo also wanted to ask him about the priest, hoping the older man might know what deity was possibly tied to their recent experiences.

I went back to the ex-bandits to tell them our decision and sent Verca ahead with Talo to offer him some kind of break.

At the guards' station, we first asked John about the priest. His name was Toma, but John explained that it would be difficult to talk with him because he had just left for Greston because my "holy symbol" had looked familiar to him. Immediately confused by his words, I asked what he meant. John, confused by my confusion, referenced the carved feather pendant on my necklace that I had made with Da as a kid. Without any focus on faith in the cabin, I could not understand how that was a religious symbol. It is certainly a question for Da the next time I see him.

I commented how I did not even know any of the gods' names. Talo tried to name one, but all I heard was static--the same static that obscured my hearing when they tried to quote what the Mask had said earlier yesterday. Verca also tried to list a long series of deities, but I could not hear a single name. Even minor ones were affected by the block.

I heard Talo shout my name, and as if the scene had changed while I was blinking, John was no longer in the room and Verca and Talo were staring at me with concern pulling at their faces. Another gap. The Mask.

According to Verca, they had been told I needed protection from the gods. He also described how a new voice had joined and how a part of the mask had decayed. He told me that the Mask said we are fated to learn about each other's pasts and secrets, which explained Talo's initial comment when I returned that they thought we were bound together in some way.

Verca asked why Talo was hiding whatever they were not telling us, and for a concerning amount of time, they ignored us. He attempted to magically compel an answer twice without success. Afterwards, they attacked him with a spell, and I was terrified of whatever fight was about to break out. He shoved them against a wall, and I had no idea what I could even try to do to separate them.

But, after the slowest handful of seconds, he hugged them.

After they stepped apart, Talo said that whatever secret they could not share involved their family, which brought my thoughts back to my own. I thumbed the painted wooden feather, thinking of Da and Dad. Verca had mentioned wanting to visit the cabin. Although I am not sure how we would get there, it might be worth trying to get back. Maybe some answers are hiding there.

Although Toma was gone, we went to the temple anyways. The outside of the building was nondescript sandstone; inside there was a shelf with a moon figure with a noticeably newer shelf installed beneath it, where figures of a wolf, cat, rabbit, and a lighting bug sat. Something about the figurines led Talo to comment on the three moons, which confused Verca who apparently had been told by his father that there were only two.

Aside from the figurines, the space was empty. I called out, saying we were looking for assistance, and an older man came out shortly after. He claimed to recognize us from his partner's description--presumably Toma.

Talo asked the man about a god associated with dreams and sand. Almost incredulous, he identified the figure as "Morpheus, god of dreams," and this time I could hear the name. Keeping the static that blocked out any other deity's name in mind, I suspect that this Morpheus was not actually a god, though. I am not sure why something would masquerade as a god--or how it would manage to accomplish such an endeavor--, but it leaves me concerned about whatever its agenda is.

Still digging for answers, Talo then asked about what kinds of things do not dream. I had partially begun to zone out during bits of their conversation, looking around the room and replaying certain events from earlier in this day, but I was abruptly yanked back to the present moment when his answer landed on elves solely because they do not sleep.

I sleep. Dad sleeps. We are both elves. I still do not understand.

The conversation moved on, and the man specified that Toma went to a temple in Greston. He had said a specific temple name, but that was as static-y as everything else.

Tired of missing out on pieces of conversations, I asked if we thought I could read whatever information I could not hear. Rather than spending time discussing that question, the man walked over to the shelves, picked up a figurine, and threw it to me. A black obsidian raven landed in my hands. At the same time I caught the weighty carving, a searing memory overcame the rest of my vision.

Darkness. Black hair. All of which encompassed a white mask with red painted lips sitting in the center of the edgeless expanse. Unable to see anything past the mask, there was still a distinct sensation of fear that poured from the entity.

A spike of pain rang through my head.

"It's all wrong. You're wrong. You shouldn't be. You shouldn't be." The voice--its words so sharp they practically stabbed into me--was familiar but distorted in a way that did not match.

What is wrong with me?

I was back in the temple, and my hands burned around the statuette. I dropped it, crying out. The dark, glossy raven crashed against the tiled floor.

Verca's attention snapped to the priest. "What did you do to her?" he asked with the sharpness of a new blade. The man's response was a blur up to the point that an unfamiliar name was said: The Raven Queen. It was the name that people had been saying all day, and I could hear it.

After I described what I saw, the man was certain I had seen the very figure named. But he was just as confident that she was not who I had heard during the flash. The speaker I heard did not carry the weight he described.

Because of the Mask's appearance at the guards' quarters, we did not actually ask John the questions about "Rosi's" fate that we had originally gone to him for. Talo needed to make potions before we went searching for her and Verca needed some level of rest, so we stopped back there since it was on the way to the inn. John claimed to not care what happened to her and commented that he honestly did not expect to see us again. And corroborating the point Verca made in the tavern, John verified that "Rosi's" punishment in Legen would indeed be death. It seemed that Verca was right; it would be crueler to drag her back to an end that we could have carried out ourselves.

Unrelated to anything serious--I write that largely because I cannot actually remember the inciting incident amongst the rest of the day's events--, before we left, I grabbed Verca's wrist to stop him from committing some kind of violence. He seemed taken aback by this. I was quick to apologize, thinking I had overstepped a boundary. I had assumed that it was okay to touch him since we had touched before, but I suppose things could have changed, reshaped by the development of new information.

But he did not seem upset; instead, he grabbed my wrist in return and held it. About a minute passed before he let go. When asked what that was about, he said it was a conversation for later. That was not the first time he had said that when hiding something, and I was immediately concerned by whatever new thing I did not know. The stack kept growing taller.

Afterwards, I told the others that I planned to take a walk to clear my head while they rested and that we could meet back together at the fountain. In reality, I wanted to give Verca the opportunity to get some space from the unwanted reminder I likely represented.

I was unprepared for his offer to join me on that walk, though.

Which also meant that now was "later."

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 11

"Asylum"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Yes. I simply would not go into a place I knew was horrifically haunted. That's what Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara are for. I also simply would not marry a cop. 8/10

I like that we are getting a continuation of the "finding dad" storyline for the second episode in a row, even if it's causing tension between the boys

(eeeeeeuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhhhh. back on my todobros au bullshit. dean is exactly what touya would be like if endeavor had been a different kind of neglectful of his eldest kid. and shoto/sam begging him to look beyond what their dad wants)

Sam trying to lie while also trying to not lie to this therapist is phenomenal. "been on a road trip with my brother. met a lot of...interesting people. did a lot of...interesting things" yes, girl, give him nothing

STOP GOING TO HAUNTED PLACES. GIRL, DUMP HIM IMMEDIATELY. YOU WERE PROMISED A MOVIE.

Dean spitting facts "when someone says a place is haunted, don't go in!" Thank you, Dean

$20 says that's not actually Dean on the phone. DO kind of love that the teenage girl is the one who can fire a shotgun and her lameass boyfriend can't #feminism (/j...at the tag. i am actually glad she's the one with the shotgun...for now, at least. i don't trust the writers) also, good for her for saying she's breaking up with him if they make it out alive

Knew it. Wasn't Dean on the phone. Was it Dr Ellicot? Probably.

WELL DAMN. Oh god...I'm really, really emotionally compromised watching them fight like this. Like, that was some REALLY HURTFUL SHIT. Dean giving Sam the pistol and Sam pulling the trigger while aiming at Dean???? Like, yeah, it wasn't loaded, and yeah, Sam was not fully himself at the time, but FUCK, man!

Seeing Dean throw the zippo lighter to salt and burn the bones is reminding me of the post about how many zippo lighters the Winchesters just waste over the course of the series

"Been On My Mind...": (Half way through and the bulk of the extra cast has been a middle aged therapist and a teenage girl...I'm gonna guess no) I was right.

"Dalek"

HERE. WE. GOOOOOOOOO!!! In a complete 180 of how I felt about the last adversaries the Doctor faced, I fucking LOVE the Daleks.

I was really hoping this episode took place just a LITTLE closer to our current time, but to have it set in 2012 is also very good

Man, I remember watching this episode for the first time and not knowing anything about ANYTHING. Like, NOW I recognize the cyberman head for what it is, but at the time? Could have been just some random robot head.

Ugh. This guy is insufferable. Thankfully, I think we just have to deal with him for one episode.

Man...the Dalek reveal happens MUCH earlier than I recalled it. I also think this is the rawest interaction between the Doctor and a Dalek we get in the series (at least as far as I remember). GODDDDDDDD two sworn enemies, mortal (and yet also immortal) enemies, coming to realize or being reminded that they are the last of their kind in the whole universe. The seething hatred between them, and yet...they have this one thing in common that no one else can possibly understand. It's GORGEOUS.

This poor kid...believes and believes and believes, and Rose just knows and won't tell. I mean, she has no reason to tell him, but still.

Why are they just standing there if hey were just told the Dalek could get out so easily?? Just. Run.

...okay but now I'm just curious about what if this episode DID take place closer to this year. The Dalek downloaded the entire internet, and they just asserted that it now knows everything. But like...that was 2005's thoughts on what they believed 2012's internet would be like...if it were closer to now, the Dalek has extensive knowledge of omegaverse and all of homestuck and every qanon conspiracy theory. I WANT TO SEE WHAT PSYCHIC DAMAGE 2023 INTERNET WOULD GIVE A DALEK (i swear i do love them, but it's just...this is so interesting)

"YOU. WOULD. MAKE. A. GOOD. DALEK." is such a banger line. Absolute mic drop of an insult.

Nah, I'm with the Dalek. That guy should die.

Watching the inner, squishy Dalek alien feel the sunlight after being trapped 53 floors below the ground and tortured has me feeling very "but what if I gave it a hug?" post. It's a good thing I grabbed my Dalek plushie before I started the episode. You know, to hug at this moment.

[simplydnp]

Why did you change meds if they arent better that the old ones

it's a good question anon.

tw medication discussion

at the moment, we don't have any idea what's wrong with me. no diagnosis, no theories, no leads. which means treating/managing the pain is difficult because we don't know what's causing it. all we have to go off is my description of how it feels and where it's located.

i'm not a doctor, nor a medical professional of any capacity. and the struggle of pain like this is that it is nothing like anything i've ever felt before. one of the first descriptions i had of it was this deep sense of wrongness across my bones, in a way that ached. i can't tell you the difference between numbness and nerve pain, all i can say is that it hurts. it feels like a live wire deep in my body. i understand, now, how our body's run on electricity.

so, my doctor went with a lower-risk medication at first, and something relatively easy to source. this was not a nerve pain medication, but could be used for it at low doses. so, we did that. it helped, for a while. i no longer actively felt like i was dying. but a few weeks later, the pain starts feeling worse again. i tell my doctor. she ups the dose, but tells me that we can't up it again if it gets worse.

the reason is because it's a difficult medication to get off of once on high doses, and if i'm not using it for it's labelled use at a high dose, it's better to just try something else.

higher dose works. decent few weeks (still pain, but livable. just extremely tired 24/7 still). but, we hit a point where the pain gets worse again.

so, we had a few options. one of which would not play nice with the first medication, meaning i would have to wean off the first entirely, then start the next (likely leading to a Lot of pain, and it would take a while). our other option was one that didn't react with the initial medication, just had worse side effects and is costly.

we go for the second option, cause we're hoping for results. i'm only a few days fully off the initial medication now (it took 3 weeks to wean off), and 3 weeks of the new meds. i haven't had the bad side effects, which is good. but they don't seem to be doing as much for me. i don't think we're at a full dose yet (building up to it), and i can't see my doctor till next week.

everything is just really messy right now. my healthcare system moves very slowly, and we just don't know what's wrong with me, so we're trying to hit a moving target 1 medication at a time, because, unfortunately, nerve pain is finnicky as all get out, and most meds don't like to play nicely together. plus, with nerve pain, medication has to build up in the system before it'll do anything, therefore making this process take forever.

i wish we could find something that works. but, for me, it's also not even treating the source of the pain--it's just masking it. and sure, not existing with excruciating pain all the time is a plus, but i'd really rather turn off whatever's causing the pain in the first place, instead of just covering it up.

[rosehearrt]

He is perfectly capable of scoring most of his papers as long as the tests were theories, but the truth is Jade is as disinterested in the human’s definition of academics as much every other non-human student present. 

He pushes himself to study for the subjects that he at least found mildly amusing, but some of them were far too pointless even for his taste. Why would they need to study P.E.? He’s never had use for legs his entire life until the very moment Azul dragged him onto land. The need to learn the name of every bone and muscles on legs seemed ridiculous when it’s forgettable once they graduate and return to the Coral Sea. 

His eyes fall upon the marked papers Vargas has just distributed back to them, gaze lingering over the large two-digit numbers circled in red. He barely passed, but at least he did. It was the bare minimum that he could hoped for. 

Next to him, he catches sight of Riddle’s score. While eels were generally born with terrible eyesight it wasn’t too difficult to catch of glimpse of a blurry and smudged three-figure number. Well... it isn’t like Riddle’s perfect scores were a secret to the campus. He can’t say that he’s surprised. 

“I see you’ve once again managed to secure a full mark, Riddle. You have my congratulations.” 

Another day, another returned test. Another perfect score…despite gym being his worst subject. He had to work hard on the writing tests and flying evaluations to make up for his slow running times, just as he had to push himself hard when it came to fitness tests ( though he didn’t do terribly on those ). Certainly, Riddle was a boy prodigal by nature, his brain an endless chasm of knowledge and capabilities that had always exceeded his peers, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have to put in plenty of time and effort towards studying in order to gain and maintain this information.

Though these days, admittedly, seeing that perfect score, holding the paper in his hands…it didn’t feel as fulfilling as it used to, before…everything. But had it ever? Sometimes he questioned whether he’d only fooled himself into thinking certain things because they were what he’d been told to think. That maybe fulfillment didn’t come from being the top student in his grade, or getting the best marks. He was unsure…but nowadays, he certainly felt the emptiness that lingered inside of him ( not unlike a gaping wound ) more strongly than he ever had before.

Without realizing it, his fingers had tightened, crumpling the paper slightly as he fell awash with some strong melancholy…it was only the sound of Jade’s voice that eventually broke the spell. He blinked, looked down at his paper, loosened his grip, and finally turned to the eel at his side. Mother would undoubtedly be aghast over the idea anyone would look at his score. She’d say it was rude.

Riddle didn’t really mind. Especially not with Jade, who he’d come to find over time was surprisingly sincere whenever he deemed fit to hand out praise. 

“…Thank you.”

A small sigh. After a moment of thought, he held out his hand expectantly, his gaze fixed on Jade’s paper. He wasn’t looking closely enough to see anything, only to make his desires clear. Once it was placed in his hand, permission given, only then did he take in the score. It…wasn’t great. Passing, but barely. Which was a surprise.

“…Jade, what is this…?” 

He furrowed his brow, confused.

“You’re far more intelligent than a good portion of our higher-scoring classmates. I know that. Why does your test not reflect it?”

To someone like Riddle, who’d lived a life only for the sake of academics, it didn’t make sense. To be that smart, but to choose not to use it in certain areas of life for whatever reason, it was strange. Of course he’d voice that as well - Riddle had never been the type who was able to keep his mouth shut.

“Is it the material…? I suppose we do all have subjects we’re less strong in…it can be difficult to devote extra time to studying when doing business with Azul, tending to your club, and fulfilling your duties as vice…”

Riddle himself hardly slept, and at times he found himself studying at unspeakable hours, but he couldn’t simply suggest something like that. Even he knew it wasn’t ideal behavior. Which left a single viable solution if he wanted to be sure to give Jade sound advice that could better his outcomes in future exams definitively.

“…But. This can be remedied. If you should like, I can look through my schedule - we could study together. A study partner to give mock exams and provide support can prove extremely helpful to those struggling to find the time for it on their own. Actually, I wouldn’t be opposed to having another to assist me with my flash cards either…it would likely prove to be far less dull than doing it on my own…”

[storiesforallfandoms]

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

[potter-imagines]

Best-friends to Lovers (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: can we get like... a lil fred weasley, you guys are good friends and you don’t usually go back for the holidays, and Fred invites you back to the Burrow to spend the break there and y’all like totally fall for each other 🥺

Warning: None (I switched it up just a tiny bit to where they’ve already developed some feelings but they finally admit them sooo hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 4.5k

It was a flurry and cold winter night, the kind of night when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. You despised the freezing temperature, but Fred was far too convincing and a midnight walk with him was something you couldn’t find the words to turn down.

For the first time in the five years you had spent at Hogwarts, and the five years you had been best friends, you had finally accepted the twins offer on spending Christmas at the Burrow with their family. It was a turn of events in your typical holiday plans which were mostly spent alone at the castle. Your first two years at school you had traveled home for Christmas. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly a ‘jolly’ time either. Family time came few and far between. The sparse time you did spend around your family had grown… awkward. Being the only witch in your family didn’t help much either. As the years dragged on, you felt like a stranger in your own home. Your parents spent their entire year with your younger brother, so he had undoubtedly grown to be the favorite and the prized child. They still loved you of course, it just felt forced to engage with them at times.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when you walked into the Weasley’s home and were engulfed in a warmth you had never known. Molly Weasley was the first to greet you, popping out from the staircase with a shimmering grin. Before you could register what was happening, she pulled you into a bone crunching grip rambling on about how good it was to meet you. Arthur hugged you as well and teased about how much the twins would talk about you, especially Fred. Fred would turn bashful but he didn’t deny it.

Ginny showed you around the house, beating Fred and George to the chance. Molly set up a mattress on the floor next to the youngest Weasley’s bed, something Ginny was over the moon thrilled about. She had been longing for a sleepover with you for years now. Ever since her first term, she followed you around like a little puppy. So your first night at the home, Ginny coerced you into a slumber party immediately.

The twins, mainly Fred, weren’t too happy at this. They were the ones who invited you yet their little sister was stealing all your time. Fred was bitter when you hurried off from dinner to go join Ginny upstairs, not even bidding him a farewell.

George insisted his twin was being dramatic- they had an entire month for Merlin's sake! The feelings his brother developed for you, their best friend, was clear as crystals to George. They both shared a crush on you for the first year at Hogwarts but George’s feelings quickly shifted to a friendship, sister love. Fred on the other hand, well his crush only evolved further. George noticed it the second Fred started combing his hair before dinner and always placing himself the closest towards you. It was a topic they danced around for quite some time. He teased his twin for years until the idea came to him that Fred still felt this way towards you even after years. George had devoted his previous two summers to breaking Fred into admission. All he wanted was to hear his twin confirm his suspicions. Not that he needed that really, other people were beginning to notice as well.

One of them being your temporary roommate. Ginny was a top notch observer. During her second year, she started to catch on to the elephant that followed you and Fred into every room.

That first night, Ginny shed light on her theory by offhandedly making a rather large claim late that first night. While the two of you were chatting softly in the dark, the young girl declared out of the blue,

“I think my brother is in love with you.”

In an instant, your whole body froze over like water on a lake. You were thankful for the dark, it kept Ginny from seeing your wide eyed stare of shock.

“What?”

It was now you could see her small frame adjusting in her bed. Even with the lack of light, you saw her sitting up on her bed, propping her weight on one elbow. It could be assumed she had a devilish smile as she probed on.

“Fred… pretty sure he’s in love with you.”

“Why, what makes you think that, Ginny?”

“Quite a laundry list of things, actually. First, he never shuts up about you. Second, he’s always trying to be around you. Third, he’s always staring at you… bit creepy. Fourth, he’s told our nanna about you! Lastly, and most obvious, I heard him telling George right before school started.”

Laying back down, you fixed your eyes on the ceiling taking in her words. Does your best friend really share the same feelings for you? It was too good to be true, it couldn’t be true, you thought. This kinda stuff only happened in the movies and your life definitely was not a film gracing the silver screen. The butterflies went rampant in your stomach, fluttering about wildly. For a moment, you had forgotten Ginny was there, or that you were in her room, until she spoke again.

“So, what do you think of him?” She asked innocently. Tugging the fluffy blue blanket closer to your chest you replied,

“Pardon?”

Ginny wasted no time and reached over to flicker the light switch on her bedside lamp. A bright light broke through the pitch black darkness of the bedroom. You groaned at the act but Ginny spoke over your sounds of protest.

“Are you in love with Fred?”

Running your hand over your face, you let out a sigh. It was getting too late to be thinking about such heavy topics. You had a great friendship with Ginny, you really did, but if you couldn’t even deal with these emotions on your own, you really didn’t want to throw your thoughts on her.

Turning over on the mattress, you rolled your eyes.

“Ginny, I’m not even dating Fred.”

“But you want to.” She confirmed stubbornly.

“I mean… I-I don’t know, Ginny. Can we talk about something else, please?” You wanted to hide under a blanket and avoid the question for all of eternity. She had caught you off guard and although the feelings you felt towards Fred were strong, it wasn’t something you felt ready to face yet. It wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend- there was so much risk, so much to lose if things went south. You settled on keeping Fred as a friend rather than gamble the option of rejection and a change in your relationship forever.

Ginny perked her brow, opened her mouth as if ready to rebuttal, then deciding against it. The corner of her tip twitched to a smirk as she replied,

“Hmm, okay.”

The topic was dropped for the rest of the night as Ginny went to bed shortly after, but it wasn’t completely over. From then on, you began noticing the constant little redhead attached to your coattails. You noticed each time Fred shooed his sister off and demanded she find something better to do. He was edging closer and closer to his point of eruption. This break was supposed to be time for him to spend alone with you and finally confess his feelings. Not Ginny being your shadow and George tagging along for every outing.

Now on your walk almost a week later, your mind hadn’t stopped wandering to that conversation. Ginny hadn’t brought it up again, at least not vocally. During breakfast the next morning after your talk while you're placed between Fred and George joking around with them, she’ll send you knowing looks, giggling to herself. Harry started to pick up on this as well and you noticed Ginny whispering to him afterwards. It didn’t help that Fred would take any opportunity he could to make you laugh and be in your presence.

Last night you found yourself sitting in front of the fireplace with George, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Fred. A steaming mug of hot cocoa was clutched in everyone’s hand. After about an hour of talking softly and sharing stories, Ginny, Ron and Harry decided to call it a night and trudged up the stairs together. You waved to them as they disappeared up the wooden steps, the sound off their feet turning quieter with every second.

As the three of you sat closely, it felt like you were back at Hogwarts in the common room. George was gushing about a Muggle film you had shown him earlier in the day and Fred was silently listening in, a small smile kissing his lips. You were sat at Fred’s side, your backs against the couch and his arm thrown casually around your shoulder. George was laid on the smaller couch across from the two of you, rambling on to himself. As his talking continued, Fred slowly worked to move your body closer to his and nearly in his lap. He did it so naturally you almost failed to notice. The loud, booming tone of George simmer out within minutes. His voice seemed to sooth him into a slumber as his harsh snores suddenly cut through the air, having talked himself to sleep. This caused the both of you to start laughing. Fred’s arm gripped you tighter as his body shook with chuckles. The sensation sent an odd shiver down your spine. It felt… nice, really really nice to be in his arms.

Fred wondered if now was the time. It was the first chance he had gotten alone with you for almost a week, so there was a good probability he wouldn’t get another for a while. He needed to make a move, something at least! Fred hated not having the bravery like the Gryffindor he was to fess up and spit out the words to describe how he felt about you. Closing his eyes, Fred took a deep breath then peeked his gaze open once more. The nerves had calmed and for the first time, he felt ready and he knew he had to act on it. But as he looked down at you, all the confidence had vanished with one glance. His throat dried as your eyes met and a faint precipitation budded in his palms. All the words he had been rehearsing for a year now simply slipped out the back door.

You took note of the ghost white paleness that took over and immediately sat up, removing yourself from his arms to ask,

“You alright, Freddie?” The concern dripped from your words as you examined the face of your best friend. His eyes were lowered, glued to the flickering flames of the crackling fire.

“Of course, love. I’m sorry, was just thinking.”

“Aw, Freddie, we talked about this. You know thinking is no good for you- you’re brain can’t handle it, darling!” Fred’s heart leaped at the adorning pet name. Only recently had you started calling him more loving names, and it drove him absolutely mad. No girl could ever get his heart racing with just one word like you could. He loved hearing such names coming from your mouth, and directed to him. There was only one name he would die to call you and that was his.

“Can I take you for a walk, love?” The request came abruptly, completely out of the blue. Your eyes widen at his question. Any other time you’d say yes without a second thought. Although, it was late and the land was not a territory you were familiar with like Hogwarts.

Your eyes fell on the window behind the couch. Large white snowflakes swirled from the sky and coated the grounds. The heavy black winter jacket you packed was hung up neatly by the door, not having been touched for at least a day.

Turning your attention back to Fred, you realized his eyes were already trained on your face. At your glance, a hopefully smile reached his cheeks.

“It’s nearly midnight I… actually, why not? Sure. But if we run into any wolves, I’m sacrificing you to them, Weasley.” He laughed at your response and quickly jumped up. You set your hands to your side, readying yourself to stand when suddenly, Fred’s large hands attached to your sides and lifted you up to your feet. You stumbled trying to gain balance but once again, Fred was right there to help you.

Unexpectedly, his left hand extended out and intertwined his fingers in yours. Just as you had predicted, his touch was warm, addicting in a way. It set off a pool of security and protection. Instead of fearing what may lie in the open land outside his house, you trusted Fred.

The tall boy walked you towards the door and pulled your long coat from the hook then threw it around your body. You slipped your arms into the fuzzy material as he yanked his heavy jacket on. Watching the never ending snowfall outside, you worked your hands into the black mittens you had stored in the coat pockets. You hoped it wasn’t as bone chilling outside as it looked.

“Here, I think you might need this, love. You can use my scarf too if you’d like. Don’t want you freezing to death, that’d be hard to explain to George and the rest of our friends.” Fred placed an extra winter hat of his on top of your head. Heat slapped your cheeks at his movements. Fred was commonly sweet towards you but lately, he had been extra sweet. Small gestures here and there were adding up and raising a bit of questions in your mind.

You knocked Fred jokingly on the shoulder and remarked,

“Reckon they’ll send you to Azkaban for that one. I’m a saint, everyone loves me, Fred.” You teased him playfully before accepting his offer with a thank you. Instead of handing you the maroon and gold striped scarf, Fred leaned forward and wrapped it snug around your neck. Once finished, his fingertip tapped against the tip of your nose, grinning to himself.

“You’re not wrong about that. We should get going though. The killer trolls will rise from the ground soon!”

“Knock it off!” You scolded him in a hushed tone, careful not to wake his sleeping family as you chased out of the house after him. Running down the steps, you saw Fred waiting near the car for you. There was an open path behind the car, a makeshift road but the kids used it for a walking guide.

He motioned you over waving exaggeratedly.

“C’mon, darling! You’re taking forever.” Fred moaned on dramatically as he waited for you to catch up to him.  

“It’s freezing out here, be patient.” You waddled over to his side and stood close to his frame, egar for warmth. Fred took in your shaking body and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tugged you towards his side.

Snowflakes landed on your eyelashes, conflicting your view. Despite the coldness of the winter air, the landscape was beautiful. There were miles and miles of open plains on all ends of the Burrow. In a way, they were isolated, but the atmosphere was live with activity. It was impossible to be bored when the Weasley siblings were around. There was so much to do, in an exploring sense. You had never felt so free, so open before. It was refreshing to spend time at Weasley's home. As the two of you walked together in the crunchy snow, Fred pointed to a large field, a makeshift pitch if you had to guess.

“Charlie and Bill taught George and I how to play Quidditch over there the summer after our first year. Percy hated playing with us! We’d all gang up on him- even if he was on our team- and try to knock him off his broom. I don’t think he’s played with us since! You would’ve died of laughter seeing how angry he got.” You watched as Fred’s features scrunched in laughed at the memory. His contagious chuckles infected you as you laughed along. It was a recollection you could imagine perfectly, even if you weren’t there. Percy was an easy target but he had done it to himself so there wasn’t much room for blame.

Shrugging your shoulders you said,

“I would say poor Percy but he turned me in for being out past curfew so, I’m proud of you, Fred.”

“Sounds like him, just try being related to him. He runs to our parents for everything! Every. Little. Thing. It’s infuriating.” Your cheeks began to sting from smiling so much, but when you were around Fred, it was a given. He had an affect on you that no one else seemed to earn. Even when you were on the brim of tears, Fred always found a way to bring a grin to your face.

But still, you thought about Ginny’s words and the change in Fred throughout your years as friends. Nights were lost tossing and turning over the thought of that prankster redhead who had occupied all your notions.

Lifting your hand up slightly, you grabbed for Fred’s gloved hand. He gladly accepted your gesture and squeezed on your hand as you continued to walk further from the home. Fred’s attention soon dropped as his consciousness drifted once again. Pursing your lips you drew him out.

“Freddie, what’s on your mind? You’ve been different since we got here. I mean, it’s not a bad different. It’s just… something is different with you and you’re my best friend so I wanna know.”

Fred’s eyes snapped up at your concerning voice and the startled expression met yours. This was definitely not a common act for Fred. Your mind raced at the possibility of what it could be but luckily, Fred didn’t make you wait long for an answer.

His pace slowed, but his feet still dragged in the powdered flakes holding your hand. You wanted to hear him speak so bad although you respected the time he needed and waited in silence as you continued to walk. It didn’t take long for Fred to shatter the thin air,

“Can I ask you a serious question? Like one that could change everything.”

“You can ask me anything, Fred. You know this. It won’t change a thing.” You replied seriously. Fred could hear the truthfulness in your words and it calmed him, only a little though. The looming fear, and reality, of rejection was becoming all too real. Even worse than rejection, Fred had a feeling if he didn’t take his chance now, he might never have the opportunity again.

“Do you see me only as a best friend?” The nervousness in his voice broke the peace of the air. Your feet halted at the cavalier inquest. Fred had asked quite the offhand questions before but this, this was new. Mentally attempting to connect the pieces, you tilted your head in confusion.

“Freddie…” The mummer was faint, almost failing to register from your lips. The Burrow was still in near distance and the moonlight provided enough light to search Fred’s face. You weren’t sure what to make of the inquiry exactly, but your heart race excelled in anticipation.

Fred Weasley shifted in the crystalline snow. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and his legs bounced in his stance. You knew him well enough to see the contemplation written across his features.

“Y/n I really really like you. I promise this isn’t a joke or some prank. If you don’t feel the same I can find a way to accept it but I don’t wanna lose you in my life. I just can’t hold it in anymore. It’s been five years of tortue now and… I just needed to get it out, love. I think I might be falling in love with you- if I haven’t already.” As Fred poured his heart out openly, the dripping snowfall ceased all together. It was magically in a sense. The loud slush was now quiet, almost like drizzling rain. His gingerbread eyes were studied upon you, waiting for any sort of reaction to surface. You just gazed up at him scavenging for the perfect words to spill your emotions.

“You’ve liked me for five years?” You asked, stunned. That was impossible. All this time you had spent crushing on Fred and admiring him, stuck in the friendzone, you could’ve just talked to him and been honest. Fred’s eyes darted back to his house then to you anxiously.

“Yeah. I’ve just been too scared to tell you. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship, that’s the last thing I could take.”

Your heart dropped at his words. It was funny in a way, he had the same fears as you. In the same way, you felt guilty for putting him through the same torture you had been going through the last few years as well.

With a surge of confidence, you snapped your head up to Fred and quickly remarked,

“Will it ruin our friendship if I think I’m in love with you too?”

The stillness in the air was unreadable at first. Your gazes trained intently on each other. The uplift gleamed in Fred when he took in your words. All his fears went away like the swish of a wand.

Half out of adrenaline, the other half out of want for years of desire, Fred took one step forward and closed the small gap of space between the two of you by pressing his lips tightly against yours. His hands rested on your face, and the small of your back to keep you steady. This you were thankful for this as his quick actions took you by shock nearly knocking you off your feet.

Your left hand drew up to his hair, finding a tight grip in his shoulder length locks, something you’d been dreaming about doing. The kiss intensified as you indulged in the lock and pressed closer to Fred. Your mouths moved together as if snogging was naturally with you two.

Your lungs demanded air after a few minutes and you slowly pulled away from Fred’s lips and leaned away to regain your composure. You could hear Fred panting at your side, also processing what just took place. Your hands never left each other’s and he suddenly squeezed yours to earn your attention. A genuine look crosses Fred’s face as he whispered into the cold air,

“Can I ask you to be my girlfriend now or do you want me to woo you over on a date first?” His sweet words nearly melted your heart. As easy as you were to please when it came to Fred, this heartwarming exchange felt like the perfect night to declare as a first outing.

“I think I’ll count this as our first date, it was quite romantic.”

Fred rolled his eyes with a smirk. It made him happy that you weren’t demanding or the snotty type. He loved that the small things made you glow with happiness. Even with this, he was still mentally planning a date to take you on before break ended. Although you still had yet to answer his big question.

“So does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You had to swallow back a laugh as you realized you never officially answered Fred. Despite your kiss, he still looked worried you’d turn him away. Shaking your head with a smile you replied,

“Yes, I won’t make you beg anymore.”

Fred wasted no time snatching you by the waste and giving you a small twirl around the snow. A yelp sounded from your lips and you hoped it wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone sleeping at the Burrow. Fred chuckled at your protests and placed you down delicately. Placing his hands on either side of your face, the joyful Gryffindor snogged you lightly, but his passion still seeped through.

“Merlin’s beard, can’t believe it took my stupid arse five years to ask you out. I could’ve been kissing you years ago!”

“Guess we were both missing out. Feel dim for thinking I was going to ruin everything between us if I told you how I felt. But I’m so happy, Freddie.”

“Here, darling,” His gloved hand jerk back to the house, “We oughta head back, now. Mum will kill me if she finds out we were out this late! She thinks you’re an angel so you’ll be fine but I’ll be six feet under by dawn. I can’t wait for morning, though. I can finally brag to everyone that you’re mine, love.” His lips pressed against yours again, desperate to relive the spark and it did not disappoint. Kissing Fred felt natural, like you melted into the embrace. Your lips molded in sync, matching up like magnets. His tongue drew a line across your bottom lips as he kissed you deeper.

Coming back to earth you detached from Fred with a light ‘smack’ noise. Neither of you could wipe the childlike grins off your faces. His plump cheeks turned crimson in the night. Unable to shake off the excitement of the night’s events, you leaned into Fred’s body, giving him a tight hug. He returned the embrace instantly and left a long kiss to the top of your head.

Leaning away, you planted one last kiss to Fred’s cheek then held his hand as you two walked towards his home. The light at the top of the Burrow, assumingly Fred and George's room was turned on. Brightness shone from the window and you pointed up at the sight. The house was only feet away and you started to wonder what George would think of the news.

It could be assumed he wouldn’t be shocked. George spent the last year making comments to you here and there, prying in on you and Fred. Ginny of course wouldn’t be too blown away either, but what about Ron and Harry?

Fred already knew what their reactions would be. He knew without a doubt all of your friends would be thrilled, but no one would be too taken aback by your new relationship. It seemed the only two students who were oblivious to your shared feelings, were Fred and yourself.

“You think they’ll be surprised to hear we’re dating?” You wondered out loud. Fred swung your hand in a back and forth motion as you approached the front porch of the house. Your question obtained a chuckle from Fred as he shook his head,

“Not one bit, love.”

[lovesick-panmess]

Rapture

A part two to my Armageddon AU. Warnings for depictions of blood, gore, and self-depreciation.

Levi's hand stayed pressed against the metal door, if he leaned in enough he can hear the footsteps of his younger brothers running to what he hoped was assured safety. His legs felt like jello and that he could barely hold himself up, anxiety pumping through his veins as he rushed downstairs. There was no courageous bone in his body, he was just a shitty pathetic otaku and all too eager to hide away in his room and wait for an attack to be over, for this fucking nightmare to be over. He watches Mammon continuing to fed of the doorway, trading punches and blasts to those who tried to come in. God, he was all too aware of his tail and horns, the clothes of his demon form feeling all too tight. "Levi! A little help here?!"

Mammon's shout brings him back to the despair of reality, getting a running start as he pulled the angel off of him and began to tug at its wings before completely ripping it off with his tail. The angel cries fall silent and the two brothers meet each other's eyes as the blood begins to reach their feet. "..They're just newborns, why the hell would the Celestial Realm send newborns to try and attack us?" Mammon spoke, effortlessly gutting one that attempt to fly overhead and turning away quickly, his own claws digging into the palm of his hand and it's hard to tell which of the dripping blood is his own or an angel. Levi doesn't want to think about it, it's clear when he closes his eyes and ripping apart wings like paper. He can't bear to imagine each one that he kills being around Luke's age...he just can't. "This is just for a distraction, we gotta give them time to get to Dia's castle," Mammon speaks in plan in their shared language while twisting the angel's wrist, and Levi is unable to hide his grimace from the loud crack that followed.

He keeps sinking, deeper into his own thoughts and trying to ignore the way his heart clenches at the painfilled screams and his eyes constantly shifting so he can kill on sight. There was a brief pause but sadly no relief from the attacks as he screamed, "Mammon look out!" The window of the living room shatters as an angel now armed with a sword tackles the eldest brother, Levi turns to help but finds himself surrounded with similar swords that he knows he can't let them touch him. He breathes in deeply, despite his own self-doubt, he knows that there is a reason why he is part of the most powerful in Devildom though he is at a territorial disadvantage. He snarls baring his teeth now soaked with blood and fire pooling into his gut as some of them back off in fear.

His tail acts first, grabbing an angel behind him by the throat and viciously digging his claws into their eye sockets and watching in crazed delight as the blood oozed out. He looked at their fortified expressions and found himself completely void of pity, where was that hesitation when they so eagerly attacked? Where was that fear that could have driven them away from this house? Their home...his brothers..all split apart because of this attack made anger bubble in his throat. It was feral and ugly, Levi leaving gaping holes in the bodies of already dead angels and the growing thirst for more carnage-

"Are ya done yet? Talk about overkill, Levi."

He blinked as if awakened from a long nap, removing his knee from the angel's back as he stood. They were both panting and clearly becoming exhausted, but he couldn't look away from Mammon's cocky grin and wiping off the remaining feathers. Too many questions flooded into his head, how long will they be able to defend their home? What more they could handle before eventually passing out? Were the younger brothers safe and sound? And why did Mammon look so cool at this very moment? He had watched Mammon so effortlessly fight angels that even he was struggling with, looking so strong and willing to defend their home while Levi's first thought was to run away. He wasn't brave like Mammon, he wasn't strong, even weaker angels put up a fight. He was so weak it was disgusting, he was disgusting and stupid to think that he would be worth anything in comparison to fighting with Mammon.

Bitter admiration and malicious jealousy dances in his chest, he pants and stumbles into the wall as his vision blurs. Now only showing the pure white of his eyes and the last thing he hears is Mammon distantly calling out his name...and Envy taking over. There is an orange glow emanating and pulsing as Levi's form shifts and changes, he grows larger as the scales covering his entire body are now sharp like razors. He's more snake-like, hissing and gurgling deep within his throat, and makes his way to the streets of Devildom, quick to attack any demon or angel that gets in his way.

Mammon curses as he runs after his brother and racking his brain for any way to bring him back but the sight in front of him made him stop. Watching a multitude of angels continue to stab their blades into Levi's tail and this untamable rage begins to take hold of Mammon. The mocking laughter of those surrounding him, filling his ears and drowning out any conscious thought out the window. "We'll kill you and all your brothers too! Devildom is ours for the taking." This sort of desire to make them shut the fuck up leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, black feathers completely decorating his arms as he stumbles back, trying his best to calm down. To think clearly, Lucifer would want him to keep his head on his shoulders, he would be so disappointed if Mammon couldn't keep it together from some small taunts. But such needs...were growing to be too much, the desire to protect the ones he loved became something he could no longer suppress as he let himself transform and sink deeper into this kind of greed.

The greed that the only annihilation can fulfill.

Violence.

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Ahhhhh I am so happy that so many people fell in love with this au! Thank you for all the likes and excitement, it really means alot ❤ and once again a thank you to the fabulous @asterronomical for not only helping me review ideas for this part two but also giving visuals into the brothers (Levi and Mammon) current forms!

I'd also love to hear some theories on why the Celestial Realm is attacking 👀