#obscure fandoms are my passion

[shiawasekai]

Feeling the Forbidden Fandom brainworms returning.

They just announced a release that's aimed at me specifically............ It may be the perfect excuse to finally get up to date lmao. When i have the money, that's it.

[the-acid-pear]

I still find it hilarious how I can say I got into Madness Combat Before It Was Cool but by a saving grace of like. A fucking week. Like the timing was legit uncanny.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sending in a fandom ask no one clocked? I know this probably sounds like bait, but I feel genuinely guilty.

I had read the FAQs before submitting but I also think I perhaps overestimated the reach of the 2018 Peter Rabbit movie. I didn’t think I could come right out and say “yo I’m a rabbit btw” so I omitted perhaps the most obvious tell but I was watching it on repeat at the time and I guess I had just assumed everyone would catch on.

I also didn’t think that saying I was a rabbit would ever get the ask posted bc it goes against the guidelines, but reflecting on it I also think there’s a difference between how you treat a person and how you treat a wild animal you’re not aware has real person feelings that would impact the voting and reaction so idk.

I didn’t feel guilty when I submitted it and I thought it was funny until I saw that people were getting (what I perceived as) really distressed about it in the notes. I guess I didn’t realise how bad it sounded until I had taken the context away. I know this is probably silly and I probably inflated the reactions in my head, but I still feel really guilty about how passionate the reactions were and possibly causing anyone to feel stressed like that irl.

This has been weighing on me awhile. I didn’t find the actual post until the voting had already passed and it was too late to add info so I’ve decided to ask in here if that’s ok. In my defence, it was about a scene that I always genuinely felt was weird, and the results did justify it haha.

So, AITA?

Anon you GOTTA tell me which it is because neither I nor apparently anyone else clocked it at ALL holy shit

But yeah, this is a good illustration of why you want to clearly telegraph in the last paragraph that this is a fictional submission, especially if the subject is more obscure like that

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[olderthannetfic]

I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?

There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.

I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.

I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.

--

Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.

People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".

--

The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:

We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).

--

You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.

You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.

Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.

--

Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.

[imaginariumwanderer]

JUST WANNA SAY ur art got me back into shadowvanilla, I was into it right when sm showed up in crk but no one was talking about the ship so I kinda forgot about it, but now there's so much good food 😩✨ ANYWAY HERE'S A DRAWING I MADE TODAY since you (and some fics) inspired me to get back into the ship :3c

Please excuse me for a moment while I lose my mind over this fanart

AGAGAAGAGAGA THEY! THEM!! THIS IS SO PRETTY ASHDGFJHKLASKJKL;

*Cough* now to get us back on track, my wacky origin story with this wacky ship: technically speaking, the 3rd anniversary update is what got me posting for the crk fandom ealier this year. I remember seeing PV and SM first meeting in Beast-Yeast and thinking "oh why do they kindaaa... U know?" then seeing PV interacts w/ SM in the quiz show segment and how he's subtly fighting back in his own way got me like "oh shit?? Can i have some more pls???"

Anyways, I remember browsing through tumblr not long after, seeing some shadowvanilla fanarts, thinking "wait, is this a ship?? Is this allowed??" and coming across the wonderful, amazing, beautiful Echo paradox AU one fateful day. I've been oar-struck with the ship ever since. All this to say, you and I are in the same boat! It's thanks to other shippers that I got sailing, my art dragging another one onboard is definitely this coming full-circle.

I'm so glad to see such a talented artist joining this shipdom, thank you! As a perpetual rarepair shipper, it's my greatest joy is to see fans express their passion for certain unknown/obscure pairings through fanart, fanfic, analysis etc and getting others sucked into the rabbit hole along the way (ah yes, spreading the brainrot muahaha yesss)

There's still so much I want to do with these two idiots. I don't see myself stopping with the shadowvanilla content any time soon, at least not before SM is playable. So until then, please bear with me while continue to be obnoxious about them^^

[saintsenara]

Wait why are you not a fan of Snape and Hermione?? 2 nerds who care a socially awkward amount about the things they care about nerding out together at levels of romance people who can be chill and normal about things can’t comprehend?? It’s not one of my fav ships but I can definitely see it!

I headcanon that Snape picks on Hermione being a muggle raised know it all thirsty to prove and lacking self awareness because he was one himself when he arrived at school and James and Sirius picked on him for it! It’s like that you’re most repulsed by the things you’re self conscious of in yourself thing to me. Or maybe a him trying to live out being the “cool” one in that dynamic thing

But when she’s a grown woman and more self possessed like he became too I feel like that same energy ness has potential for love!

Hermione is famously respectful and compassionate enough towards all beings to be more understanding than say Lily Evans of his prickly tender ego if he had another m word style outburst and such a people pleaser she’d keep coming back for more snark as long as he peppered it with the odd encouraging compliment

And I feel like a Snape in reciprocated love could absolutely veer into inventing beautiful and helpful spells to impress his lover or sending “made me think of u 😘” notes with verses of elaborate obscure poetry territory that would be frankly the level of literary and academic courtship our Herms deserves 😌

Is it cause they’d both be the highly strung worrier one and they both need someone to ground them? Or maybe too pessimistic together and one of them needs to be the cheerful one?

anon, i genuinely love this for you - i'm always thrilled to get people explaining their love for ships in the ol' inbox, especially when they're ships i don't instinctively vibe with, and i have been won round to stranger premises than this by a passionate defence of why two characters should kiss.

where i still think snamione isn't clicking for me, however, is that the way you describe both snape and hermione here doesn't align in any significant way with what i personally think would be interesting to explore about either character in a relationship and have them still feel meaningfully like their canon selves.

[i will say, though - because i always think it's worth reiterating my fandom commitment towards being neither a cop nor a priest - that i literally don't give a shit about either the age gap or the student-teacher dynamic. i know that's an objection to pairings like snarry and snamione which lots of people do express. but i will never be one of them.]

the primary reason that i don't vibe with many of the more... sapiosexual hermione ships [by which i mean not only snamione but tomione] is that they hang on the idea that hermione's intellect expresses itself in a way we never actually see in canon.

or, the idea that snape and hermione are intellectually compatible [and that they would enjoy hanging out being nerdy about stuff] is just... not true.

throughout the seven-book canon, the way that hermione shows herself to be clever is that she displays an excellent memory and an enormous capacity to rote-learn. her intelligence is overwhelmingly demonstrated - both in the classroom and during the trio's year on the run - by her being able to regurgitate swathes of information, very usually verbatim from the source she got it from.

she is clearly able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical component of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is able to use this understanding of theory to work out how to perform spells which are ahead of her expected level on the hogwarts curriculum.

and this is intelligence - and i want to be very clear that i'm not trying to suggest that hermione shouldn't be thought of as intellectual, or that her academic achievements should be devalued. but it isn't the way snape's intelligence manifests itself.

because hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly creative or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - teachers and textbooks - and is frequently rattled when these are revealed to be partial or incorrect, as we see in her shock at hogwarts: a history not mentioning house elves or her anger at harry getting better results by following the modified instructions in the prince's textbook [despite knowing nothing about the theory underpinning them] than she does with the "official" ones.

she also regards the gatekeeping of inquiry which disciplinary boundaries enforce to be a positive thing and she never displays any inclination to step beyond them. she dislikes the spells in the prince's textbook because they aren't ministry-approved - and i must say that i think the idea that she'd be won over by a man creating spells for her is wishful thinking...

she is immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find something she regards as an empirical source for - notice, for example, that she only comes round to the idea that prophecies might be real once she encounters them in the ministry of magic.

even when we see her using magic on her own terms - the jinx she uses on marietta edgecombe, for example; or the protean charm on the da coins - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't be classroom-sanctioned, but it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. the protean charm on the da coins is impressive because it's a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old. it's not impressive because hermione is using it in a strange, experimental, or radical way.

[in contrast, the dark mark - which harry notes the coins mimic - is clearly a spell voldemort himself invents.]

snape, on the other hand, is an experimenter. he's someone who clearly sees magic as a creative force which he has every right to shape as he sees fit by adaptation and invention. and he's someone who evidently rejects the logic of disciplinary gatekeeping - one tension in his relationship with dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that snape evidently retains an enormous intellectual interest in the dark arts [which, as he tells us, are an area of magic which is feared precisely because they can't be neatly contained within disciplinary boxes - they are ever-changing, unfixed, mutating...]

and it's these conflicting views of what magic is and how it should be used and thought about which is the cause of the intellectual incompatibility we see between snape and hermione in canon.

he is unequivocally in the wrong for his dismissive classroom manner towards her - because he is an adult and she is a child. but he isn't wrong in principle that hermione just repeating what she's read in the textbook and refusing to synthesise her knowledge [she always goes massively over word limits! she never gives answers in class in her own words!] isn't actually a demonstration that she understands the material. [and therefore something a good teacher would guide her through conquering... snape having no interest in doing this is his own fault.]

and - from a snamione-specific perspective - it's all the evidence snape needs that, actually, they're not going to enjoy hanging out chatting about academic pursuits. hermione values knowledge like a dragon hoards treasure. snape wants to take that treasure, melt it down, and turn it into new and weird things.

once again, i don't think this a flaw in either of their characters - it's just something which is. and i don't think it's an insurmountable obstacle to writing snamione, because i believe any ship is possible if an author has enough nerve. but it's an aspect of both characters' canon personalities [and hermione's above all] which never seems to make it into snamione fics - all of which, as far as i've encountered them, are beholden to an idea of hermione's approach to academia which is considerably more flexible than we actually see in the books.

of your other points, i'm not particularly convinced by the idea that snape sees his younger self in the teenage hermione. this isn't just for the reasons outlined above - hermione isn't trying to prove herself in the same way he was, which was by creating and experimenting in a bid to be noticed and considered impressive - but also because of the massive gulf in their respective class backgrounds.

hermione is really posh - and, while she's obviously subjected to discrimination at hogwarts on account of her blood-status, she also comes from a family with both the financial resources and the cultural language to make her familiar with the vibe of the elite muggle boarding schools hogwarts is a pastiche of.

the teen snape - in contrast - stands out from his cohort in that he is visually identifiable as working-class [which does appear to be genuinely unusual at hogwarts]. his class background is something which clearly drove a lot of the marauders' bullying of him [i'm sorry to the girlies who think james and sirius targeted him out of some righteous desire to stamp out his prejudice - it was because he was poor and uncouth] and which he still has a chip on his shoulder about as an adult.

this - again - is not an insurmountable barrier to a snamione relationship [as it's not a barrier to thousands of real-world partnerships and friendships]. but it is something an author needs to grapple with if they want to make the pairing - at least, in my opinion - seem plausible. but the standard vibe seems to be that snape would be comfortable in the grangers' home fairly quickly, and that he'd be delighted to have hermione swanning around offering suggestions for how they could do up spinner's end... instead of him resenting this as the unwelcome meddling of people who've never had to worry for money.

i'm also not particularly convinced by the idea that hermione would get over being called a mudblood - especially by an adult man. while i think it's completely plausible that she'd handle this differently than lily [although lily's reaction is entirely justified - and i don't think we should throw the baby out with the bathwater of contextualising the teenage snape and the motivating factors behind his decisions by pretending that cutting off your friend because he called you a slur is a petty, ill-thought-out, or unreasonable move], i don't think that her reaction would be automatically forgiving.

hermione is compassionate towards kreacher when he calls her a mudblood because kreacher is a slave, whose prejudicial views are inextricably bound up in the magic used to oppress him [i.e. that if he received an order to use the term, or to refuse to serve a muggleborn food, from his masters, he would have to punish himself violently if he disobeyed it]. she is not - quite rightly! - compassionate towards someone like draco malfoy when he calls her one, since he is a free person with full agency to choose not to do this.

could she forgive him - or snape - for using the term? sure! absolutely! but i don't think it's a given - and i also think she'd expect a demonstration of how sorry snape was which wouldn't necessarily align with how he'd think he'd demonstrated his regret.

i do agree that - as you say - hermione is a people-pleaser, and she definitely has a far greater tolerance for being treated cruelly by people she wants to impress [especially authority figures - including snape himself] than either harry or ron. and i think this has the potential to introduce an extremely thorny dynamic into a snamione fic - in which the power dynamic inherent in the age gap [which, to reiterate, i think is completely fine for an author to enjoy] is compounded by hermione being unwilling to anger or contradict snape [which is a vibe - as i've said in answer to an ask about harmony - we also see in her relationship with harry... it's also obviously exactly how snape's relationship with dumbledore works.]

on a couple of the more minor characterisation notes, i'm afraid that the idea of snape as a great romantic has never hit for me. it seems really bound up in the way alan rickman portrayed him in the films, which i've always found a bit toothless. i also don't like the trope of "actually snape's really hot" which seems to always accompany it - ugly, odd men to get to bone too!

[what he would be - i think - is a magpie. get ready to be handed odd stones and bits of leaves on dates.]

i also think they're highly-strung in ways which differ enough to mean they'd just annoy each other. hermione is highly-strung in that she flusters easily and is very poor under pressure, but she's actually pretty emotionally stable [and i'd dispute that she's a pessimist - this is a girl who thinks that she's successfully eradicating slavery at hogwarts by knitting hats; she's pretty robust, funny, cheerful, and idealistic]. snape is highly-strung in that he has a hair-trigger temper and is very emotionally volatile, but he's obviously an extraordinarily good liar, very quick on his feet, and very good under pressure. he'd think she panicked too much [and over insignificant things he didn't care about], she'd think he tanked the vibe of a date by taking offence at someone breathing too loudly.

where are they similar? well, they have a shared self-serving streak [hermione is appalled by behaviour from harry and ron she considers perfectly moral when she does it]; capacity for cruelty; tendency towards secrecy; tendency towards pettiness and pleasure in the misfortune of others; loathing of flying a broom; cutting sense of humour; stubbornness; resilience; clear dislike of slumming it in nature; love of puzzles; and a weakness for red hair.

i think you could make it work on the grounds that they'd probably have the time of their lives being haters together - especially, i feel, about rita skeeter.

and - y'know - because love is weird.

[eeechooo]

She Gets Me

Fandom : Lockwood & Co

Pairing : Reader x George Karim

Request : @thestrangerblog

George has a pen pal (Reader) with whom he feels a deep connection, sharing similar interests and ways of thinking. They decide to finally meet in person for a casual picnic. As George gets ready in his usual casual clothes, Lockwood and Holly question his outfit, suggesting he should dress to impress. George firmly replies, "That’s how I am. Take it or leave it."

You’d been counting down the days. After months of exchanging letters filled with theories about ghostly phenomena, discussions on obscure historical facts, and shared frustrations about the peacock types in your respective fields, you were finally going to meet George in person. The picnic was your idea—a casual, no-pressure setting where you could both be yourselves. You had carefully chosen a spot in the park, a place with a mix of sun and shade, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption.

Meanwhile, at 35 Portland Row, George was in his room, staring at his open wardrobe. He rifled through his clothes, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Should he go for something a bit more polished? Maybe a shirt without holes? No, he decided, shaking his head. He pulled out his favourite band T-shirt, one that had seen countless adventures and cases. It was soft, comfortable, and familiar—much like how he hoped the meeting with you would feel. He paired it with his trusty worn jeans, the ones that fit just right.

As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it but ultimately giving up. It sprang back to its usual dishevelled state. George nodded to himself, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. This was him, and he wanted you to meet the real George.

Downstairs, Lockwood and Holly were waiting, their curiosity barely contained. Lockwood, with his usual impeccable style, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as George descended the stairs.

‘You’re going like this?’ Lockwood asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

George paused on the last step, looking down at his outfit, then back up at Lockwood. ‘Yeah, why not?’ he replied, shrugging. ‘It’s a picnic, not a gala.’

Holly, always the picture of grace and fashion, tilted her head and scanned George’s attire critically. ‘A picnic, George? Don’t you want to make a good impression?’

George rolled his eyes, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement. ‘I’m meeting someone who already knows me, Holly. They’ve read my letters, they know my thoughts. If they don’t like me for who I am, then what’s the point?’

Lockwood and Holly exchanged a glance. Lockwood’s stern expression softened slightly. ‘Just make sure you bring back some good stories,’ he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Holly sighed but smiled warmly. ‘Fine, but at least comb your hair a bit more.’

George laughed, running his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to neaten it. ‘Happy now?’ he asked with a grin.

‘Close enough,’ Holly replied with a chuckle.

As George walked out the door, he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He was about to meet someone who had become a significant part of his life through letters. Someone who understood his passions and frustrations. He hoped the reality would match the connection they had built on paper. Who understood him.

You arrived at the park a little early, your heart racing with anticipation. You chose a spot under a large oak tree, spreading out the picnic blanket and arranging the food with meticulous care. The sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

As you adjusted the layout, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. You wondered if George would be the same in person as he was in his letters—thoughtful, engaging, and deeply passionate about the supernatural.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up and saw George, exactly as you had imagined him: dishevelled hair, casual clothes, and a warm, genuine smile.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, his voice as familiar as his written words.

‘George!’ you exclaimed, standing up to meet him. ‘It’s so great to finally meet you in person.’

He smiled back, a bit shyly. ‘You too.’

You both settled down on the blanket, and the initial awkwardness quickly dissolved as you began to talk. The conversation flowed naturally, just like in your letters. You discussed the latest happenings in your agencies, shared your most recent discoveries, and vented about the superficial people you had to deal with in your line of work.

‘I can’t stand those types at Rotwell,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘You know, the ones who think a charming smile and a nice suit make them experts.’

George laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. ‘Tell me about it. They’re more interested in networking than actual research. It’s infuriating. Holly used to work with them, the lunatic.’

You felt a deep sense of camaraderie. Here was someone who truly understood your frustrations and shared your passion for uncovering the truth about the supernatural. That's exactly what you needed and wanted.

As the afternoon wore on, George began to talk about his latest project—a discovery he had made about the origins of a particularly aggressive Type Two. His eyes lit up with excitement as he described the breakthrough, his hands animatedly sketching out the details on a napkin.

‘And the best part?’ he said, leaning in closer. ‘It ties back to an old Persian legend my grandmother used to tell me. I’ve been researching it for months, and I finally made the connection.’

You listened intently, captivated by his enthusiasm and depth of knowledge. It was clear how much he loved what he did, and it made you appreciate him even more.

As the conversation shifted, George started talking about his passion for cooking, particularly Persian dishes. He recounted stories of his grandmother’s recipes, describing the rich, aromatic flavours with a reverence that made your mouth water. You remembered him writing about it, but now you could smell the faint scent of saffron on him, making it real.

‘You’ll have to try my tahdig sometime,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s a crispy rice dish, and I’ve perfected the recipe over the years.’

You smiled, feeling a warm connection with him. ‘I’d love that. It sounds delicious.’

The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park. You both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The fading light painted a serene picture around you, enhancing the sense of intimacy between you—a shared understanding and mutual respect that went beyond words.

George glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. ‘This has been really great,’ he said quietly.

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth. ‘It really has.’

As the sky turned shades of orange and pink, you knew that this meeting was just the beginning. There was so much more to explore together—more conversations, more shared moments, and perhaps even more Persian dishes to taste.

Back at 35 Portland Row, Lockwood and Holly were waiting eagerly for George’s return. They sat in the cosy library, Holly flipping through a book while Lockwood sipped on a cup of tea, both stealing glances at the clock every few minutes.

Finally, they heard the door open and George’s footsteps approaching. Lockwood set down his cup, his expression curious yet guarded. Holly closed her book gently, her eyes bright with anticipation.

‘Well?’ Lockwood prompted as George entered the room, a contented smile playing on his lips.

George grinned, the glow of satisfaction evident in his eyes. ‘It was amazing,’ he began, his voice filled with excitement. ‘We talked for hours. She’s exactly as I imagined—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to. We just clicked.’

Lockwood raised an eyebrow, his demeanour cautious. ‘And did you discuss any sensitive matters?’

George’s smile faltered slightly. He knew exactly what Lockwood was referring to—Joplin, the painful reminder of the dangers of revealing too much to those outside the agency. Too much, about the Problem, about him.

‘Nothing too sensitive,’ George assured him quickly, his tone earnest. ‘Just general discussions about work, our interests... you know.’

Holly’s eyes softened with understanding as she exchanged a glance with Lockwood. They both knew how cautious they had to be, especially after what happened with Pamela. Lockwood leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious yet supportive.

‘We’re glad to hear it went well,’ Lockwood said genuinely, reaching out to give George a pat on the back.

‘Yeah,’ Holly agreed, her voice gentle. ‘Sounds like you found someone who appreciates the real you.’

George nodded, feeling a sense of contentment settle over him. ‘I think I have,’ he replied softly, grateful for their concern yet eager to protect this new connection he had forged.

He knew he had to tread carefully, to not let his guard down completely. But in that moment, surrounded by his trusted friends who had become like family, George felt a rare sense of hope—that maybe, just maybe, this time things could be different.

After the first picnic with George, you returned home feeling a mixture of exhilaration and contentment. As you stepped into your shared apartment, your roommate greeted you with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously over the rim of her teacup.

‘Well, well, well,’ she teased playfully. ‘How was your date?’

You chuckled, setting down your bag and joining her at the kitchen table. ‘It wasn’t a date,’ you clarified with a grin. ‘Just a picnic. But it was amazing. George is exactly as I imagined him—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to.’

Your roommate raised an eyebrow knowingly. ‘Sounds like a date to me,’ she quipped, taking another sip of her tea.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. ‘Okay, maybe it felt a little bit like a date,’ you admitted, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

She leaned forward, curiosity evident in her expression. ‘So, are you going to see him again?’

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. ‘I hope so. We really clicked.’

She grinned, setting her teacup down with a satisfied nod. ‘I’m happy for you. It’s about time you met someone who gets you.’

You felt a rush of warmth at her words. It was comforting to have someone who understood you so well, who supported your happiness without hesitation.

‘Yeah,’ you replied softly, gratitude filling your voice. ‘Me too.’

As you recounted the highlights of the picnic—George’s stories, his passion for the supernatural, and even his talent for cooking—your roommate listened attentively, sharing in your excitement and offering words of encouragement.

By the end of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel even more certain about the connection you had with George. And as you settled into bed that night, thoughts of future picnics and conversations danced through your mind, filling you with anticipation for what was to come.

Days turned into weeks, and George found himself eagerly anticipating each interaction with you. Whether it was meeting for coffee after work or exchanging late-night messages about the latest supernatural phenomena, every moment spent together deepened your connection.

Lockwood and Holly watched with cautious optimism as George navigated this new friendship. They could see how much George valued you, how your presence brought a new lightness to his demeanour. And while they remained vigilant, they couldn’t deny the genuine joy they saw in George’s eyes. After a month of bright eyes from their coworker and best friend with your name always on his lips, Lucy, Lockwood, and Holly decided that, perhaps, they could trust you.

As weeks passed, the bond between you and George continued to grow stronger. Every meeting brought new conversations, shared laughter, and a deepening understanding of each other's passions and quirks. Lockwood, Lucy, and Holly observed with cautious optimism, seeing how much joy you brought into George's life and how well you fit there, with him.

One evening, George received a rather unexpected invitation from Lockwood. ‘How about dinner at 35 Portland Row tomorrow night?’ Lockwood suggested "casually". ‘I thought it would be nice for all of us to spend some time together.’

George, surprised yet pleased, agreed. He relayed the invitation to you, and you gladly accepted, feeling both nervous and excited at the prospect of spending more time with George outside of your usual hangouts.

The next evening, you arrived at 35 Portland Row, the unfamiliar house exuding an air of mystery and warmth. You opted for a casual outfit—a comfortable jumper and jeans—but as soon as you stepped inside, Holly and Lucy greeted you with laughter.

‘Oh, you look absolutely adorable!’ Holly exclaimed, her eyes twinkling without an ounce of malice.

Lucy smiled warmly. ‘It's nice to see someone not dressed to impress for once.’

You chuckled, feeling immediately at ease with their playful banter. Lockwood appeared from the study, a gracious smile on his face as he welcomed you.

‘Welcome, please make yourself at home,’ Lockwood said, gesturing towards the dining room where the table was set for dinner.

The evening flowed smoothly as everyone settled in. Lockwood proved to be a gracious host, regaling you with stories of their recent cases and engaging you in lively discussions about supernatural phenomena. You found yourself drawn into the conversation, sharing your own insights and experiences, feeling a sense of belonging among George's friends.

During dinner, you found yourself seated next to George. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes reflecting the same joy and comfort you felt. As you talked, you realised how much you shared in common—not just your interests in the supernatural, but your values and perspectives on life itself.

‘I'm glad you're here,�� George whispered to you softly as you savoured his exquisite cooking.

‘Me too,’ you replied with a genuine smile, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart.

Lockwood and Lucy watched the interaction with subtle approval, exchanging knowing glances. After dinner, as you helped clear the table, Lockwood approached George discreetly.

‘I trust your judgment, George,’ Lockwood murmured, his voice low but earnest. ‘Both in your work and in your... friendships.’

George met Lockwood's gaze, a sense of gratitude and responsibility settling over him. ‘Thank you, Lockwood,’ he replied quietly. ‘I appreciate that.’

Lockwood nodded, his expression serious yet supportive. ‘You've both earned it,’ he added before returning to help Holly and Lucy with the dishes.

As you said your goodbyes later that evening, you felt a renewed sense of connection with George and his friends. And as you walked away from 35 Portland Row, you knew that you were becoming a part of something special, something that felt like home.

I AM SO LATE LMAODOSO HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY!!! I hope it was good, my laptop has been annoying the whole time I couldn't really get IN you know.

I love how george is just being like yes I'm gonna meet her and it's either she likes me or she can go home

I'm trying to get back to writing, the exams killed me but it's okay I'll fight back SO IF YOU WANT TO MAKE ANY REQUEST IT'S OPEN

Taglist :

@cielooci @neewtmas @35-portlandxrow

[bardic-tales]

Title: Youth

Pairing: Bianca Moore (f!OC) / Sephiroth

Other Character: Professor Hojo

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1591

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII, Ever Crisis

Setting: AU: Redemption

Warnings: Abuse, body horror, combat violence, cold & hypothermia, death, emotional distress, experimentation, fear, isolation, manipulation, paranoia, psychological trauma

Summary: In a stimulated combat scenario, Bianca and Sephiroth confront the powerful summons Bahamut and Shiva to prove their abilities to Professor Hojo.

Squared Filled: Youth

Created for: #SephirothWeek which is hosted by @week-of-silver-winds

Note: This is from my redemption!AU where the timeline becomes very canon divergent. Also, for anyone who is following along with my passion project, Sephiroth and Bia meet very young in this AU.

In it, Hojo is the primary antagonist. This fan fic takes place during Ever Crisis before the First Episode of the First SOLDIER. So, Seph is 15; Bia, 13.

Excerpt:

In a cry of agony, tendrils burst forth from her back, surged towards Shiva, and pierced the summon’s defenses.

Still, the battle raged on. The sound of steel and the crackling of frost echoed across the virtual world. Shiva moved weakly as they continued to carve into her. Sephiroth knew they couldn’t waste anymore time. Drawn-out displays wouldn’t satisfy Professor Hojo.

Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart beat. The young man held onto the military saber and slowly lifted the blade parallel to his head and shoulder as he eased into his combat stance. He looked at his companion: the young girl that had been a constant in his life for five years now, the only one he was allowed to converse with.

Their environment flickered and glitch before them. Solid powder-blue boxes swayed, pivoted on their axis, rose, and descended. From the west, a warm breeze blew across the stimulation, waving his shoulder-length silver hair and her waist-length midnight locks behind them like banners welcoming warriors home from a battle. He looked at the force before them.

The battle was yet to be won. He didn’t scowl or have much emotion, other than looking at their foes before them: Bahamut and Shiva.

“On my mark,” he said.

Bianca nodded, as she curled her right hand into a fist and slammed it against the silver habaki and ebony tsuka, gliding her hand to the left and pulling Noctemaris from the void between dimensions. The black and dark gray blade emerged behind her fist, sparkling and glimmering with star dust. “Which one first?”

They had to preform above expectations or Hojo would take Bianca from him and return her shaken, bruised, and broken. Even if that meant endured their training, he had to protect Bianca.

“Shiva,” he replied. “She’s the most threat to us, as you’re delicate around ice and cold.”

Without another word, Sephiroth surged forward. His eyes fixated on the ice goddess who loomed ahead. The air around Bianca and Sephiroth was already thick with frost. The chill clawed at his skin, but he pressed on. His determination was unyielding.

If I hesitate, he thought, it would mean failure. Failure would mean Hojo’s interference with Bianca once again. This was a thought he would not tolerate: her experimentation.

Nameless flashed as he closed the distance to the scantily clad summon. His movements were precise and deadly. The ground beneath him cracked with each step forward, as the frozen ground protested his advance.

Without breaking stride, he launched himself into a serious of rapid slashes. The rapid successions of strikes aimed at childing away at Shiva’s defenses. Her green hair flowed around her as she tried to defend against Sephiroth’s graceful brutality.

Bianca darted to the side, using his assault as cover. She moved with a grace that belied the dark power coursing through her veins. Her wings unfurled and cast a shadow over the battlefield. With a single, powerful beat of her wings, she lifted herself into the air. The surrounding shadows deepened and obscured her from Shiva’s gaze.

Sephiroth knew they would have to finish this quickly. The cold gnawed at Bianca, lining her flesh with ice crystals. If they didn’t end it quick, there was a real possibility for her to develop hypothermia.

He glanced up for a moment as darkness oscillated around her, concealing herself from both Sephiroth and Shiva’s view. As he continued his relentless assault, Bianca descended from above and plunged downward with Noctemaris.

In a cry of agony, tendrils burst forth from her back, surged towards Shiva, and pierced the summon’s defenses.

Still, the battle raged on. The sound of steel and the crackling of frost echoed across the virtual world. Shiva moved weakly as they continued to carve into her. Sephiroth knew they couldn’t waste anymore time. Drawn-out displays wouldn’t satisfy Professor Hojo.

“Now, Bianca,” he called above the din, signaling her to finish the summon while he intercepted Bahamut. Sephiroth spun on his heel. The dragon’s roar shook the stimulator.

With a surge of shadows, Bianca’s blade plunged into Shiva’s chest. The dark energies expanded from the blade, as the star-drench blade glowed now: a crimson nebula surrounded Noctemaris, the arms spinning wildly around the length of the blade.

Shiva shattered in a explosion of crystalline shards and darkness.

“Move!” he commanded Bianca. With a swift leap, he launched himself toward the dragon, ready to engage their next challenge before Hojo ended the stimulation.

Sephiroth now leapt at Bahamut. His saber poised to strike as the air seemed to crackle with the dragon’s raw, untamed power. The beast’s eyes glowed red as it inhaled the surrounding air. The very air sizzled around Sephiroth as the dragon prepared to unleash a burst of Mega Flare.

There was no time to hesitate. He pushed forward, leaping up into the air again and bringing down Nameless with a downward strike. The ground beneath him split into a pentacle. The impact sent a tremor through Sephiroth’s arms, but he didn’t relent.

Bahamut recoiled while Sephiroth concentrated. A large fireball hovered over his hand, which he immediately threw at the dragon’s large silvery leathery wings.

As Bianca still soared through the air, her tendrils quivered and writhed around her. The darkness emanating from her wings intensified, casting blackness over the entire stimulation. With a fierce cry, she dove before the dragon’s belly and jabbed at it with the tendrils. They lashed at Bahamut’s underside.

The dragon roared in fury. It swatted at Bianca with its colossal claws, but she weaved and bobbed out of reach, siphoning blood from the creature through her appendages. As she danced through the air, Sephiroth struck from the ground. A rapid sequence of eight quick thrusts and slashes severed the joints of Bahamut’s massive limbs. His blade moved like a flash of silver.

With a surge of dark energy, Bianca unleashed her fury. Her movements became a blur as Noctemaris carved through the air and Bahamut. Each stroke left behind a trail of shadow, sapping the dragon’s will and strength.

Bahamut’s once-mighty form wavered. With a last thrust from Nameless, the giant beast collapsed. Its form and energy dissipating into the air.

Silence fell across the stimulation as Sephiroth reached into his coat and retrieved his flip phone. With the press of the downward arrow, he scrolled through the options and hit ‘Mission Successful’. The screen flashed in confirmation. Before the stimulation collapsed around them, he took one look at Bianca and ensured she was unharmed. Tiny cuts and bruises lined her arms, but nothing severe.

After they removed their V.R. headsets, they were met by the calculating gaze of the Head of Research and Development.

“You both need to be faster. Train harder or you’ll never unlock your full potentials.” The mad scientist, a Shinra board member by the name of Professor Hojo, held the clipboard in his hand. He was shorter than the teenage boy, but he still held power over Sephiroth.

In his other hand, Hojo held a pen and scribbled down notes on the sheet of paper clipped to the board. “Especially you, Bianca. You have barely tapped into your potential abilities."

Sephiroth’s brilliant cyan gaze flicked towards Bianca. Her indigo eyes widened, blowing out her feline-like pupils. The string looping around their separate wrists pulsated an angry red, allowing the anxiety and fear running through the strings to settle deep within his own stomach. It amplified the fear, sending it back to the small girl.

“This separation will make both of you stronger,” Hojo said, as he gripped onto Bianca’s right bicep. His spindly fingers bit into her soft knitted turtleneck.

Although he didn’t show it, his heart galloped as he watched Hojo lead Bianca away. He had to shelter her from Hojo, and he would. Thump. Thump. Thump.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @littleshopofchaos @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my August 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

With The Strength To Carry On by lovelarry10, therogueskimo (113k)

The American British Doctoral Exchange Program was the best thing that ever happened to Louis. It gave him a chance to start over and make a real difference in the world. He could focus on work and not be distracted by anything or anyone. When Harry Styles shows up as the new intern, he turns Louis' world upside down. ~ Harry Styles had one passion in life, and that was helping sick children feel better. Putting smiles on their faces made Harry feel like he was making up for past mistakes and losses. When he gets accepted to the American British Doctoral Exchange Program, he treats it as the chance of a lifetime to make a difference internationally. He didn't expect to fall for his mentor along the way.

... or the one where Louis and Harry are doctors, and things happen.

Stranger Than Larry Fiction by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics (90k)

It's been twelve years since Harry met Louis on TXF, became best mates with him, eventually falling head over heels in love with him. Six years post One Direction deciding to go on hiatus and now everyone is doing their own thing. All the boys have solo careers, some are touring, and with their busy lives in play, Harry and Louis have sort of grown apart. Harry's been filling the Louis void by devouring Larry fanfics, giving himself a chance to love Louis from afar in his own way. So far it's worked for him and he's content with his love of Louis being of the unrequited variety.

That all changes, however, when Harry reads a particularly emotional and classic fic in the fandom, and he simply can't help but call Louis despite his sobs to tell him all about it, inadvertently sending Louis down the Larry fic rabbit hole as well.

OR

A canon-divergent AU where Louis and Harry read Larry Stylinson fanfiction.

Can’t Hide It, You Might As Well Embrace It by supernope (67k)

Together since they were teenagers, Harry and Louis are professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They may also secretly be married.

Someone to Fly Home To by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (34k)

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to.

Harry swipes right. Or Louis and Harry’s marriage ended more than a decade ago, but fate keeps bringing them back together.

You Are Half of Me (and I Am All for You) by angelichl / @angelichl (24k)

One Direction, an obscure indie rock band, is about to embark on their first cross-country tour, living out of Louis' beloved van named Patricia.

Harry is in love, and Louis is oblivious. Or is he?

Featuring skinny-dipping in Texas waterfalls, getting lost in the desert, stargazing under the New Mexico sky, performing in front of crowds that grow in size each night, and falling in love on the road during the greatest summer of their lives.

Just a Minute More by kingofthefridaynight (6k)

“Look,” Harry said now, tapping Louis repeatedly on his thigh. There it was, the proud beam on Harry’s face, as he showed off a piece of fabric in a wooden circle. The bright yarn in the middle vaguely resembled a flower. Either way, Louis smiled, “It’s beautiful, angel.” “You recognise it?” Harry asked with a teasing smirk, wagging the hoop a little into Louis’ direction. “Or are you just being nice?” Harry knew him too well. He could read him like a book. That’s what marriage is about though, Louis figured, as he tried to squint at the flower to see what it was supposed to resemble. “I’m sorry, love,” Louis confessed after a second. “Tell me, though?”

Or, a rainy day in bed, where all they do is enjoy each other’s company.

[animentality]

I saw this tweet in the wild today, and I'm rolling my eyes.

a few things.

1) If your Durge is a lesbian, then don't ship her with Gortash.

easy as that. nowhere in the goddamn game does it force you to make out with him. it's entirely up to you what you imagine your Durge doing. in fact durgetash is so obscure, you can miss it entirely.

2) You canNOT tell me that durgetash fans are hounding you and telling you your lesbian Durge is legally obligated to marry Enver Gortash.

no one on the planet cares about your oc more than theirs. they're out here shipping their GAY Durges with Gortash. world doesn't revolve around your character, I'm so sorry to tell you. other people made their own characters to fuck Gortash with.

please try not to faint or vomit as you remember that other people play baldurs gate 3 other than you.

3) Stop pretending/implying that people who like Gortash are morally bad people. You just don't like the ship or Gortash. and that's fine.

literally 99% of the fandom agrees with you.

the straight male audience which makes up most of the BG3 fandom totally agrees with you. go be friends with them.

Gortash love is such a niche fucking freak thing, like, really? there are literally dozens of us. most everyone hates him for being evil or ugly or both. you jabbing at us while pretending to be the victim when you are, in fact, the majority is laughable.

I just don't get these tweets because I know for a fucking fact that durgetash is an obscure fucking crack ship.

I know for a fact that Gortash lovers are just a small but passionate group of freaks, that are in no way the majority.

I also just don't believe for five seconds that anyone is out there telling you that you have to ship durgetash.

just say you don't like the ship or move on.

keep shipping your Durge with Astarion or Shadowheart.

God knows they've never done anything wrong in their lives.

and finally 4) No one who is a fan of Enver Gortash thinks he's not a piece of shit.

I hate Twitter. fucking clout chasers.

why don't you grow a spine and have an opinion you actually stand by instead of aiming at easy targets so you can feel like people like you

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sometimes being in the SW Fandom is about diving into the annals of the internet researching the most obscure tidbit of batshit insane Canon or EU Lore imaginable to man (which is honestly my favorite thing to do because people have done some pretty insanely funny things with this universe and characters). But for the majority of the time, being in the SW Fandom is also watching people repeat a cycle of asinine arguments that make an absolute ass out of them for the worst possible reasons.

So here's a quick reminder of past arguments to be mindful of and always consider, when you see something in the tags that makes you wrinkle your nose at:

Everyone has something they like or dislike about the overall universe and story. Be it the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, the Sequels, the Animated series, the Live-Action series, EU stuff, Novels, etc. No one is above or below anyone else just because they don't love the entirety of the universe and/or the direction the current writers are taking it.

Canon can be a good baseline for your own creative purposes. You don't have to love it (because yes the whole thing can be inconsistent as hell), but don't get to a point in your fanfic/AU world-building where you vehemently deny that canon is an actual thing. This goes hand in hand with your personal depiction of characters vs someone else's depictions. Reading comprehension and the creative process depend on perspective and how you process the information you're given, so it's only normal that no two person's idea of a character is the same. But saying that your headcanons are how the characters should be written by everyone is not gonna do you any favors in the long run, because it's not up to you to decide on that. Don't forget Blorbo's actual roots and what it took to get him where you took him, but don't try to force someone else to accept the journey you orchestrated for them!

No one's OC should be put on a pedestal. It's good that people feel comfortable enough to play Barbies with each other's OCs in roleplay sessions, or even add a cameo in a fic to a character of a friend and/or artist/writer they admire from a distance. Hell, the fact many people are passionate about someone else's little fella/s is great! But the moment someone's OC becomes an object of obsession within a Fandom community, things can go a little wrong... It stops being fun to be in that kind of space that goes from welcoming OC discussions to suddenly shunning new people in favor of someone's Ultimate Blorbo who now has a Cult Following and should be written into every fanfic ever.

No one is evil for lacking knowledge or self-awareness of certain grievances that people rightfully have with the source material. The SW Fandom has always had a long-standing issue with racial stereotyping, whitewashing, cultural appropriation, sexism and many other equally serious topics that have been more eloquently explained in posts made by people much more eloquent and qualified than I am or ever will be. However, one must recognize that not everyone who joins the Fandom is immediately aware of these things. Especially the younger generations that have either not been exposed to these concepts due to one reason or another (upbringing, biased educational curriculum, etc), or because they were simply never in a position where they could delve into these topics with someone knowledgeable on them (some experiences simply aren't universal, especially if you come from a more privileged family). For the most part, SW is just a silly sci-fi universe that is nothing more than a simple means of escapism or dumb fun. Not everyone is going to study it under a microscope or go through it with a fine comb. That said, another important thing to remember is to listen to those who know their stuff and that have had personal grievances with any of the topics above. You can be excused for lack of knowledge, but you cannot be excused for purposefully ignoring the voices of those who provide you said knowledge for free if you go searching.

This is kinda returning to the second and previous topics, but I really need to put emphasis on this: If you're going to cling to certain design choices with an iron first and incorporate them into your personal ideas/headcanons, please always consider how it SOUNDS when you say characters that are written with basis on real POC people/communities are much better/superior if they have phenotypical trait expressions that are not present (or considered rare/atypical) in their real world basis. This is a CONSISTENT problem I have seen crop up specifically within the Clone Wars and Bad Batch sides of the fandom, especially when talking about Rex (who is a blond) and Clone Force 99 (who do not look like standard clones). Always remember: The problem isn't that Rex can't be naturally blond (genetics can be unpredictable and we really don't have an extensive look into the cloning process), the problem is the way some people think he'd be inferior in some way if he were a bottle blond who chose to distinguish himself (almost as if having darker skin, darker hair and darker eyes is somehow worse than having lighter skin, lighter hair or lighter eyes.. How curious isn't it?). Needless to say, I don't think I need to elaborate further on why CF99's "desirable mutations" giving them considerably lighter skin and less ethnic features, while also making their most POC presenting member look and sometimes act like a moronic brute (something which this Fandom pushes further by infantilizing him relentlessly), is a bit of a red flag...

Star Wars has always been political. It is literally in the name and in the meat of the writing. The entire thing is basically a political and social critique presented in a sci-fi/fantasy wrapper, with colorful plasma swords, cool spaceships, and kickass explosion bow on top. You cannot separate the political conversation from the universe's overall lore, and trying to do so makes you look foolish. Disney may have taken creative liberties with some of its shows, but at the end of the day they can't ever eliminate what the Original Trilogies and even the Prequels tried to tell us about. With that said, complaining about how some of the new shows are "too Woke" or PC is the equivalent of saying you read Romeo and Juliet and that the story is relationship goals. You might need to revisit the original material.

For the love of god if you don't like something, don't go after someone who does, it's not worth it. Sometimes the best thing you can do is either filter something you actively dislike/that makes you feel uncomfortable, or simply unfollow/block whoever is repeatedly bringing it onto your doorstep. And you also have no real obligation to explain your decision to block someone, especially if they hound you for questions. Rule of thumb: Don't like something? That's perfectly fine and valid. Take the steps to make yourself comfortable then, but don't go out of your way to be a royal asshole to someone else just because they themselves enjoy it. This encompasses things from anti-jedi demonization, actual ethnic cleansing in canon, siding with personifications of alt-right extremists, proshipping apologism, etc. The block button was added to this hellsite for a reason. Use it.

Sometimes you can't change someone else's opinions on a matter and that is perfectly fine. Just don't start a feud. People come and go, and their opinions vary (we're all individuals with out own perspectives and unique experiences after all), but getting up in arms every time someone either refuses to yield in a long-winded argument, or continuously tries to shove their unsolicited opinions/advice onto you, or even makes incredibly uncomfortable/forward/gross comments that they definitely shouldn't be saying to a complete stranger on the internet, is kind of pointless and will drain you of energy faster than you can say Death Star. You're not the lesser person for walking away from a lost cause. It's ultimately not your job or responsibility to fix/better someone else. Especially if they don't want to change.

[zadr-day]

Why ZaDr?

Think of every worthwhile rival ship that has ever existed; dip it in a poison coating of cynical worldbuilding, sprinkle it with a topping of shunned existence, and let the devil kiss it with a waxy pair of slimy, scifi alien lips. Only then, will you  have yourself a sample of what ZaDr has to offer. These characters are compelling in themselves; one being a bizarre and paranormal obsessed clone of Earth's greatest scientific mind, the other a malfunctioning spaztic robot ant from beyond the stars. Each of them ostracized, for one reason or another, largely by virtue of their own passionate past mistakes.Those mistakes, failed efforts to be seen as worthwhile, to be praised, to be loved. But then you set them against each other, as enemies. As mirrored foils. Neither of them in the right, gray morality reigns supreme as they are  purely obsessed with their own selfish reasons for self aggrandizement. Anything “good” that might happen as a result of their actions is always cast in the light of unintended circumstance. The true fight is with reality itself, while the sharp end of that crushing conflict is pointed towards the only one who could possibly understand what they’re going through. In the world of Invader Zim, every mentor, leader, parental figure, teacher, adult, child and Invader, feels more real by virtue of misanthropic absurdity. Their inability to provide the support and guidance for the main characters to function in a healthy way, is so very like the absence of nurturing many people feel in their youth. To anyone who has experienced life at its worst growing up, these caricatures of the real world provide a powerful sense of being seen. There is something radical about a story that isn’t written with any other moral than “ this living in society shit sucks”. That speaks to people, and continues to speak to me. ZaDr has always smacked of tragedy, in that you know things will end badly for everyone involved, but it’s still impossible to look away as everything is set ablaze. Two headstrong protagonists, locked in a battle of opposing wills and addictive delusion. It makes the sweetness sweeter, it makes the pains of grand fantasy ache deeper, knowing that these two characters are ultimately fighting losing battles for pitiful reasons.The denial of personal failure, the stubbornness to find purpose. In all of reality, all they truly have is each other. To see that dynamic and ship them is to say that love is possible even in the most dire of circumstances. Time and time again I find myself returning to ZaDr. I think something about the dynamic speaks to the part of us that knows things are wrong and that the fight against it is worthwhile. And that struggle, while futile, can still hold a tremendous amount of personal importance. It speaks to failing, and having the strength to get back up to try again. No matter the odds. For a pairing hated by its own creator, the fixation that Zim and Dib have on each other is an undeniable magnetism seen by the fandom since the launch of the cartoon, all the way back in 2001. This ship has staying power, and after over two decades has failed to fall into total obscurity.  Those touched by its effects have gone on to create resonant, deeply meaningful works. This blog, and the posts that I make on the topic, are my way of giving back to the ZaDr community. By displaying the stories of triumph and tragedy put forward by the IZ community, I hope to welcome new fans and give back to long standing fans by providing a living archive and blog space. I look forward to sharing the wonderful talents of so many artists with you all. Happy first ZaDr day of many

[butterflywithsass]

The good, the bad, and the ineffable omens. What makes Good Omens special.

I'm not very good at making posts on here so sorry if the formatting sucks. It's the anniversary of season two, and thinking back on everything, it's incredible how much has happened since it came out. I might get a bit long-winded, so if that's not your thing, just scroll on by. I'm just gonna take a look at why I love Good Omens, why I love the Good Omens fandom, and what the future holds for all of us who love this story.

I guess you could say I'm a bit of a new fan. I watched the first season in 2019. I liked it but I didn't really think about it until I heard it was getting a second season, and I decided to watch it again.

This second watch came at a very strange time in my life. I'd left my very introverted homeschool life behind to go to an art school in another state. I was studying creative writing, and just beginning to dream that I might be an actual writer someday. I've always gotten intensely invested in stories, a part of my ADHD that I've always struggled with. I find a story, and it consumes my soul. I have difficulty expressing emotions in real life, so stories have been an outlet for me to feel things in the persona of a character. It's this incredible power that makes me love storytelling so much. I could go on and on about the beauty of this, but that will get a bit to much so I'll move on. Mah point is...

whenever I would get really invested in a story, my parents would indulge me, but would always feel the need to mention, "You know it's not real, right?"

Anyway, for the first time, I was away from home and I could really indulge in stories without the pressure to disconnect from it to avoid the judgment of my family. For the first time, I could just be in love with a story.

A lot happened during the first year away from home, not all of which is relevant, but around this time I started owning up to my identity as bisexual. Being at an art school meant I was surrounded by queer people from all backgrounds, not all of them had the same support I did, and I witnessed secondhand as my friends went through the pain of having homophobic families who would control what art they made and who they spent time with, threatening to withdraw them from the school if they used certain names or pronouns. It was common for my friends to have a sort of shorthand code for when it was safe to use their preferred name or pronoun. Some came from very religious households, and so religion had been linked very closely to repression.

Good Omens came at a time when I was stretching my wings both in my identity as a person and as a writer and has informed what I write about ever since. As a writer, my work often focuses on themes such as fate and free will, religion and passion, divinity and humanity, and apocalyptic images. Additionally, Good Omens encouraged me to embrace comedy in my writing and to explore the absurd and whimsical. It helped me let go of the vice that held me back from writing things I thought weren't intellectual enough, or weren't creative enough.

I also became aware of the people behind the show, and of course, I grew to admire Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I admired how Neil Gaiman seemingly defied the inevitable fate of obscure and unsuccessful writers. To me, Neil Gaiman was an example of how writers could actually make it out there in the world. Terry Pratchett, I admit, took less of an interest in because he had been long dead before I became acquainted with Good Omens, and I mistakenly gave Neil Gaiman more credit for the tv show. If you want to know more about why I saw "mistakenly," check out @vidavalor where they talk about the other writers on the show and how much they contributed. It's really quite eye-opening and it gives me hope that the show can continue well enough without Gaimen.

I also grew to become a fan of David Tennent and Micheal Sheen. And when I say a fan of David Tennent, I mean a BIG fan. The Good Omens to Doctor Who pipeline is so f*cking steep I felt like Crowley during the fall. Not just Who, though, I watched stuff like Taking Over the Asylum, Einstein and Eddington, Around the World in 80 Days, Broadchurch, Jessica Jones, Escape Artist, f*king Single Father lol. I even got into Shakespeare because of David Tennent.

The love displayed by the actors for Good Omens feels truly special. Micheal Sheen's devotion to the story shines through in everything he says about it, and David Tennent, though not originally a fan, seems to have grown more and more fond of the story. I think it's not a reach of our imagination to say that the story has become very special to both of them, even more so than to us.

It's rare to see actors treat their roles as more than just a job. The occasional publicity stunt and press tour interviews aside, the roles actors take seldom stick with them, and I think it's a testament to the power of Good Omens that this is not the case for Micheal and David.

Season 2 came out of course, and we all know how that went down. I was has heartbroken as everyone else by the final 15, but I never had any doubt that the story was destined to have a happy ending.

Unlike some shows, where the story likes to flirt with tragedy to keep viewers hooked, Good Omens is not that kind of show. Amidst the pathos and drama of the Christian/Apocalypse setting, with literal heaven and hell involved, the story is relatively clean. I enjoy some Ineffible Husbands spicy fanfiction of course, but I'm glad that Good Omens has remained relatively kid-friendly. Queer themes are so often included only in "adult media," paired with dark themes and often explicit moments making them inaccessible to kids and cementing the idea that Queerness is inherently inappropriate. While Good Omens has the occasional adult reference such as Madam Tracy's side gig as a dominatrix or the 'seamstress,' they are veiled enough to pass. Even the sex scene with Anathama and Newt is comic enough that it can hardly be classified as one. As for heaven and hell, it would be easy to try and stress the darkness of hell through plenty of disturbing subtexts and the brutality of heaven, but here the show errs towards comedy, portraying both sides as corporate systems -- both funny and much more relatable evil than torture or traumatic scenes. It's easier to understand rude co-workers, degrading comments, overbearing bosses and endless paperwork than it is to understand the sources of our perception of good and evil.

Putting Adam Young as the center of the story of season one focuses the entire narrative. At the end of the day, Good Omens is about the ineffable nature of humanity defying all odds (or gods) betting against it. It's a humanist story, showing us that no matter how much the forces of good or evil might like to influence us, whatever we do will up to us.

This theme is constantly referenced, from Crowley's habit of taking credit for anything evil humans do and claiming it was his idea, to Aziraphale's constant assertions that humans are inherently good. It's exemplified by the baby swap disaster, which is a microcosm of this theme. No matter how much the powers above and below might scheme, they're plans generally end up being irrelevant to the choices of humans.

It's why Crowley and Aziraphale love humans so much. Humans are a guide for them, showing them how they can be more than just good and evil, and on our side, it's a hopeful thought to have, that the powers of good and evil looking down on us, instead of judging us, might actually have fallen in love with us along the way. It shows us that we are allowed to love ourselves.

The love that Aziraphale and Crowley have for each other is also at the heart of this story. While it has been discussed at length, it's for good reason. Because we all need a good love story. Amidst the uncertainty and ceaseless change, there is a constant, unbreaking bond between Crowley and Aziraphale-- steady as the revolution of the cosmos. Nothing in the scope of space and time is certain, but this is. We know that because we've seen it. Good Omens manages to create a love story on both a personal and an archetypal scale. On one level, this is a love story between two people from different worlds finding something familiar in each other. It's got the drama of starcrossed love, the steadiness of an age-old love, still with the butterflies of new feelings. As a queer love story, the hope in it is even more important.

Crowley and Aziraphale have all the qualities of two characters that are doomed by the narrative, and as much as I love those types of stories, this is a story about hope and it demands a happy ending. After all, if those two idiots can't get a happy ending, what hope do the rest of us have?

All this is to say, that while the final 15 was shattering emotionally, and still is, I never once doubted that all would be well eventually.

The recent accusations against Neil Gaiman came as a shock to me. I admittedly didn't know all that much about him as a person, but I looked up to him as a writer, as I said. The more that is revealed, the more truthful they become. I hoped that these allegations would end up as a big misunderstanding, and I questioned the timing just after David Tennent was attacked online for his support of the lgbtq community. However, the more information about Gaimen comes to light, the less it looks like a mistake.

This leaves us in a difficult position. It is not selfish to worry about the future of Good Omens. It is not foolish to be surprised. It is not naive to feel betrayed. It would be easy to come to the conclusion that 'no one should be trusted,' or to feel that the whole story has been tainted. It's so easy to write off the whole story as 'ethically complicated' so you don't have to examine your feelings critically. It's easy to 'boycott,' something so you don't have to deal with it, as if by not engaging with it, it's not real. I would urge you not to do this. boycotting a story is not as simple as just refusing to buy a product. Stories are part of culture and identity, to a certain extent, the person you are hurting the most is yourself.

There's a reason I spent so long describing why Good Omens is such an incredibly powerful story, because Neil Gaiman's actions negate none of that. The meaning of Good Omens is not dependent on the actions of the author. A truth is still true, even from the mouth of a liar.

Before I loved Good Omens, I loved Harry Potter. Despite JK Rowling's general shittiness, Harry Potter has brought goodness to people's lives, and even though some themes in the story ought to be examined more critically, the joy and comfort those stories brought also cannot be ignored. I was ten when I started reading Harry Potter. I was too young to grasp the homophonic or anti-semetic undertones in the story, and ironically, Harry Potter taught me to by an ally before I even knew I was queer. Before reading Harry Potter, I didn't know what gay was. After hearing Dumbledore was 'gay,' I did a google search and looked up the term in a dictionary. I remember my thoughts being, "you can do that?" and then, "why are people so upset?"

The point of this Harry Potter tangent is to say that while the intentions of the author may influence a story, the author ultimately can't control the effect the story will have on others. Once it is published, a significant part of it no longer belongs to them. They can't control what messages other people find in it, and they lose the right to decide what messages are true or not. If Neil Gaimen were to say today that Good Omens is all a very complicated metaphor for masturbation, that announcement would mean zilch.

Additionally, Neil Gaiman isn't even the only author! You don't have to give him all that credit to start with. Once again, refer to @vidavalor for info on the other amazing people who may have had a bigger hand in writing our favorite moments that we thought.

The Good Omens fandom has taught me not to be ashamed for loving a fictional story. I've been in the Lotr, Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Marvel, Sherlock, and countless other fandoms, and I can easily say that Good Omens is the most supportive, the most accepting, the most decent online fan community I've found.

We can hang in there. We've loved Good Omens since the book came out, we've loved Good Omens since before I was born, and we loved it even when we lost Terry Pratchett. We loved Good Omens when we thought there would never be a show, and when we thought one season was all there would be. Good Omens has so many kind and talented people behind it and so much love for it. Neil Gaimen will not sink us now. He doesn't have that much power.

@davidtennantgenderenvy also has a video on this that is very thoughtful.

[bruhstation]

My pet peeve is when people shit on fandoms they don’t get because they’re perceived as childish since they’re cartoons usually for children (looking at people I know giving me guff for my Lego Ninjago fixation even if it’s a less obscure example) so honestly even though I don’t get TTTE I followed for the art and designs because that kind of passion is something that inspires me!

lego ninjago’s awesome…. I don’t go there but from what I’ve seen it looks rad. glad to see that my artistic endeavor inspires you XP let’s all have fun!!!

[wistfulwanderingone]

(Cassandra's Point-of-View)

Meeting in the Moonlight

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Clavis Lelouch, Cassandra (OC); Clavis X OC story AU

Tags: SLOW BURN, fluff, romance, Meet Cute, Humor, Intrigue

Summary: A young noblewoman Cassandra, seeking refuge from the womanizing antics of Prince Jin, finds herself on a darkened balcony with a mysterious prince with a captivating laugh. Their unexpected encounter leaves her both flustered and intrigued, sparking a enigmatic and promising connection she can't ignore.

Word Count: ~3000

Timeline: 4 years after Bloodstained Rose Day, 6 years before the "Belle" year.

A/N: Introducing my new OC paired with Clavis Lelouch, Cassandra, who has been carefully crafted for him specifically. (More details at the end of the post).

And stay tuned for Clavis' point-of-view soon!

@dododrawsstuff @aide-falls You will hopefully enjoy this!

Meeting in the Moonlight

As Cassandra rounded a corner in the palace hallways, she came to an abrupt halt, instinctively stifling the groan that threatened to escape—a habit ingrained by years of her parents' insistence on perfect composure and the suppression of 'unrefined' sounds. With a lollipop dangling from his lips, Prince Jin swaggered down the hallway ahead of her. 

Not only had her friends Yves and Licht warned her about Jin and his notorious 'womanizing' ways, but she had also seen it firsthand in the few months since she had become a regular visitor to the palace. To her, he was the absolute worst. Without a second thought, she darted into the nearest room, the heavy door closing with a soft thud behind her.

The room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings and opulent decorations, but she barely noticed. Her eyes quickly locked onto a balcony, its ruby curtains billowing softly in the night breeze. In a few swift strides, she crossed the room, stepped outside, and drew the curtains closed behind her. Holding her breath, she peeked through a small gap to watch the door. The last thing she wanted was to deal with Jin. In her eyes, he was a good-for-nothing philanderer with an unfortunate weakness for women who, like her, were amply endowed.

Memories of her first encounters with Jin flooded back, leaving her feeling exposed and uncomfortable. She hated feeling that way—like a prize to be ogled rather than a person to be respected. She had enough of that in her day-to-day life. To her parents, she was nothing more than an accessory to their social standing, not a person with emotions and dreams. Every aspect of her life was meticulously controlled, from her attire to her behavior at social gatherings, all orchestrated to enhance the family's reputation. Her every action was to be a symbol of their success, a means to display their impeccable breeding and influence. They dismissed her feelings, desires, and aspirations as inconsequential. In their eyes, Cassandra existed not for her own sake but as a tool to further their prestige, a polished gem meant to shine in the public eye without ever revealing the turmoil and longing within her heart. What she truly longed for was passionate freedom and the ability to pursue her aspirations and dreams.

Tucking a strand of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear, she pressed herself against the wall to one side. The sensation of the cold stone against her back did little to calm her disquiet; however, the darkness of the balcony offered a temporary sanctuary, giving her a moment to gather herself and regain her outward poise.  She closed her eyes briefly, breathing in the solitude like a candle flickering in the wind, grasping a moment of stillness before being snuffed out. 

"Are we playing hide-and-seek? Or are you here for a more intimate rendezvous?" a deep, husky voice whispered against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

She gasped and spun around, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over her own feet before colliding with the balcony railing, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Obscured by the dim light, a dark figure stood before her. Her thoughts spun. Who was this man? Had he been here all along? How had she not noticed him before? 

"I apologize for startling you. I was only teasing," the figure asked, his voice a warm, reassuring tone with a musical lilt that seemed to dance in the air. Are you alright, young lady?" The concern in his voice and the soothing tone dispelled the remnants of her fear.

"Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, smoothing her skirt. “I was just hiding from…” She paused and squinted, straining to pierce the thick veil of darkness that enveloped the balcony. The moon, hidden behind a dense shroud of clouds, offered no illumination. Shrouded in darkness, the figure was a mere silhouette, an indistinct shape blending seamlessly with the shadows. “What I mean is I didn't want someone to see me."

"May I ask who? I'll need a name if I’m to be a gentleman and defend your honor.” His words seemed genuine enough, but at the same time, his tone dripped with mirth, adding an enigmatic edge that piqued Cassandra's curiosity, making her want to know more despite the rather odd situation in which she found herself.

Usually, she would hold her tongue and hide the real reason for her hiding, crafting a socially acceptable excuse instead. But there was something about this man—his playful tone, an underlying laissez-faire that made her want to confess the truth about her actions and share what was on her mind.

She turned and peeked out the curtains again to ensure they were still alone. "I’m hiding from that big creep, Jin," she confessed.

The figure chuckled a rich, inviting laugh that made her smile as she turned back around. It was the most wonderful laugh she had ever heard, immediately chasing away all her remaining inhibitions. 

"You know he's a prince, right?" he asked, and she could still hear breathy laughter in his words.

"Just because he's a prince doesn't mean he isn't a huge creep!"

"Be that as it may, he's still a prince," he said, stepping closer. Though his features remained hidden in the shadows, the faint glint of sensual golden eyes flickered like distant stars barely breaking through a stormy sky. That and his sudden proximity made her heart pound in her chest, and each beat echoed like a drum in the quiet night. She wanted to step closer and unveil the man behind the silhouette, but the instinct to retreat and maintain the safety of her anonymity held her back.

"Well, if the crown's crooked, I'll call it like I see it." Typically, she kept thoughts like that to herself, especially around strangers. Who knew who might overhear and report back to her parents about her supposed 'disgrace.' But for some reason, she had said it anyway, and for a brief moment, she almost didn’t care.

Another velvety, irresistible chuckle, one that she wanted to wrap around herself like a blanket. "Unfortunately, there are laws against speaking about princes with that kind of language." His voice was hypnotic, and she felt herself grin, a small rebellion against her earlier fears. 

"I'm pretty sure 'creep' isn't on that list."

"But...are you certain?" His suddenly grave tone was starkly at odds with the playful one that preceded it.

"Well, no, but..." Her voice faltered as she peered into the shadows, unease growing within her belly. "Are you a guard? Are you going to report me? Or...hand me over to Prince Jin?"

"Now, that would be amusing.” His smooth and enticing chuckle resonated through the night. “And if there's one thing I'm all about, it's finding every bit of amusement life has to offer."

Panic seized her, and she contemplated fleeing, her muscles tensing as she stepped back. But before she could run, his hand shot out, staying her with a gentle but unyielding grip. The warmth of his touch radiated through her, causing her heart to flutter wildly despite the fear coiling within her.

As he took another step into the light, her hand flew to her mouth, and the royal crest of a prince gleamed faintly in the moonlight, its significance striking her like a lightning bolt. Dressed in shades of white, gold, lavender, and purple, he was a vision of princely elegance. His uniform framed his tall, elegant form, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the lithe grace of his every movement. The moon bathed the balcony in a silvery glow, highlighting the regal contours of his figure. The broad belt cinched at the waist accentuated his waist and narrow hips while emphasizing his broad shoulders. His gloved hand, still holding her arm, was both commanding and gentle, a juxtaposition that sent a shiver down her spine.

His ashy purple hair was perfectly tousled in a way that was somehow both elegant and rebellious. Each strand shimmered like spun lavender in the moonlight. Her green eyes widened, taking in every detail of his chiseled features—the sharp, angular jawline, the faint shadow of a dimple that played at the corner of his mouth, and the small beauty mark under his lip that drew her attention to a mouth that held a perpetual hint of a playful smirk. It was a face that could both disarm and enchant with a single glance.

But it was his eyes that truly captivated her. Golden and mesmerizing, they seemed to shimmer with a thousand quips and secrets, each one more tantalizing than the last. Those eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, locked onto hers with a magnetic pull, inviting her into a world that promised freedom and adventure far beyond the constraints of her current life.

His very essence seemed to radiate a blend of charm and an underlying current of untamed spirit. And it all made her heart race, and an inexplicable feeling welled within her. The scent of night-blooming roses mingled with the cool, crisp breeze that caressed her skin, and for a heartbeat, perhaps two, time seemed to stand still. She was utterly entranced, caught in the spell woven by his golden gaze and the ethereal glow of the moonlit night. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to bear. Yet, she longed for it to never end, to remain forever in the thrall of his mesmerizing eyes and intoxicating presence.

He withdrew his hand, and the smirk on his lips widened, and she knew her reaction amused him. "Third Prince, Clavis Lelouch, at your service. The most charming of all the princes," he said with a bow.  His velvety laugh resonated in her mind, stirring unfamiliar emotions once more. The warmth of his touch on her arm still lingered, and she could feel herself being drawn even deeper by undeniable allure.

"You're... a prince?" she stammered at last, her voice barely above a whisper. A fresh wave of heat blossomed on her cheeks, leaving her flustered. His presence, so strikingly handsome, charming, and rebelliously intriguing, made it difficult for her to think straight. "I...I didn't mean to offend...I mean, I didn't know..." Each word felt heavy on her tongue, her composure unraveling under his intense gaze. She felt exposed, every insecurity magnified under the golden glow of his eyes. Yet, something about him made her want to linger in this vulnerable state and explore whatever made her feel inexplicably drawn to him despite it.

"Oh, don't fret, dearie." Clavis waved away her concerns with a playful grin. "You've added quite a delightful twist to my evening. It's not every day one encounters such refreshingly candid commentary on royalty."

Cassandra blinked, trying to process his words. "You mean...you're not going to report me or hand me over to Prince Jin?"

Clavis chuckled. "Report you? Hand you over to Jin? What would be the fun of that? No, I'd much prefer to keep this enchanting encounter our little secret." He placed a gloved finger seductively over his pursed lips. “Wouldn’t you?”

Her gaze drifted to his lips, her thoughts instantly consumed with imagining how those soft, plush lips would feel against hers. He lowered his hand, smirking down at her. Realizing where her gaze had wandered, she bit her lower lip, trying to hide the rush of heat that flooded her face.

Clavis's grin widened, a mischievous light dancing in his golden eyes. He leaned against the balcony railing, his posture relaxed and inviting as he signaled her to step closer. With a playful tilt of his head, he asked, "So, tell me, what exactly did Jin do to earn the title of 'creep' from you?" 

Cassandra hesitated, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious. She glanced away, her eyes lingering on the moonlit garden below. "He's just...he makes me feel uncomfortable. I try to avoid him whenever I can."

"I see.” Clavis's expression turned thoughtful. “And it would appear you have a talent for discovering intriguing hiding spots. Perhaps you might consider inviting me to join your little escapade next time." As he spoke, he reached out, took her hand, and gently drew her closer.

Cassandra's heart lurched a sudden, breathless moment where the world seemed to narrow to the space between them. The heat radiating from his body enveloped her, the intoxicating blend of lavender, earth, and burnt sugar that clung to him, grounding her yet sending her mind spinning. His hand, warm and firm around hers, felt like an anchor in a storm she hadn't realized was brewing within her. His words echoed in her mind, absurd and impossible, yet they lit a fire deep inside her, one that whispered of the wild freedom she craved. The idea of an escapade with him was reckless, preposterous even—but the irresistible pull of his presence made her yearn to throw caution to the wind and follow him into the unknown.

Her pulse quickened as the weight of his suggestion settled over her, the conflicting emotions swirling within her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She knew she should refuse, should step back and put distance between them, but the idea of pulling away felt like tearing herself away from something vital, something she had longed for without even realizing it. The words to decline stuck in her throat, tangled with the unspoken desires she was too afraid to acknowledge.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," she finally stammered, her cheeks flushing with a deep, fiery blush.

Clavis raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her flustered state. "Oh? And why not?"

"Because... because you're a prince, and I'm just... me," she replied, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words, feeling her awkwardness intensify under his amused scrutiny.

Clavis's smile softened slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement and an emotion she couldn't quite place. "Titles are just fancy hats, ‘Just-Me’. It's the head and heart beneath that count."

Cassandra couldn't help but smile at his whimsical words. He reminded her of those bewitching characters in children’s books who spoke in riddles and rhymes, drawing her into a world of enchantment. A gentle warmth unfurled within her. It was as if he had touched a part of her soul she seldom revealed

"Thank you, Prince Clavis," she said softly, the magic of the moment lingering in the air. "I should probably go now."

"As you wish.” Clavis straightened up, his posture becoming more formal, yet his eyes still gleamed with mischief, and his hand still held hers. “But before you depart, it seems you neglected to give me your name."

Her cheeks reddened again, and she inwardly berated herself for blundering further in front of a prince. "Cassandra Bellerose."

A soft smile graced the prince’s lips as he bowed. “Ah, Shining Beautiful Rose. How befitting.” He looked down at her hand, cradled between his own, his long lashes grazing his cheeks as he gently brought her knuckles to his lips. The tender kiss was a soft, lingering warmth against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine and setting her pulse racing. Half-lidded in the moonlight his golden eyes held hers with a gaze that shimmered with unspoken promises.

She returned his bow with a graceful curtsy, her mind swirling in a dreamy haze as he finally released her hand. The loss of his touch left her fingers tingling, a ghostly reminder of the connection they had just shared. Words eluded her, her tongue tied by the rapid beating of her heart and the fluttering sensation in her belly.

Clavis lingered for a moment longer, a playful smile tugging at his lips.“Until we meet again, Lady Cassandra, and we most assuredly shall,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if sharing a secret. Then, with a light chuckle, he stepped back, holding the curtains open for her. The fabric brushed against her as she passed, the soft whisper of silk adding to the surreal, almost poignant feel of the moment. His scent, a lingering mix of lavender and something darker, more mysterious, clung to her senses, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

As she exited the room, Cassandra leaned against the closed door, trying to steady her breathing. Her pulse was still racing with the thrill of being near him. Every heartbeat seemed to echo her excitement in Clavis's presence, his confident grace and playful glint awakening something deep and unspoken within her. The warmth from his kiss still lingered on her hand, and the memory sent a delicate shiver through her.

Her gaze drifted over the palace hallway, her mind consumed by thoughts of Clavis Lelouch—a man who could easily turn her world upside down. Every detail of his face was now etched in her memory, the tempting pull of his presence drawing her into the intoxicating blend of charm and mystery he exuded. His captivating laugh echoed in her mind, a sound she suddenly longed to hear again. That laugh, that gaze, and his very being seemed to call out to her, offering a taste of the freedom and passion her heart had always craved.

The spell was cast, and she knew, with a trembling heart, that Clavis Lelouch was unlike anyone she had ever met before or would ever meet again.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first taste of Clavis and Cassandra's story. I have most of it planned out and lots written. It is a slow-burn, angsty romance, be warned. I will post a main landing page for their stories next, followed by a Clavis point-of-view!

Pairing Summary: Cassandra never expected her first encounter with Clavis to awaken a longing for freedom and adventure she’s always kept hidden. As their worlds collide, she finds herself irresistibly drawn to his untamed spirit, a force that promises to shatter the chains of her carefully controlled life. For Clavis, what begins as a playful curiosity soon turns into something far more serious as he finds himself captivated by the one person who sees beyond his mischievous facade. As their story unfolds, two hearts grapple with the freedom they both crave—yet fear to embrace.