#the best part of disaster wizards are when they are IN IT

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Honestly... The part that fully convinced a good bunch of the party to consider Ludinus's plot was... well... Ludinus himself and to put Downfall there too...

Like a lot of the characters take away from Downfall was that the gods are not different from mortals, their infighting just has a Bigger Splash Zone. To the point that Angels were betraying them? So they shouldnt "have more power" than mortals if theyre going to act like mortals. Thats the moral some of BH left with. With the ones that didnt, not providing a strong enough opposition against those that did.

It would have been nicer if we flipped the ExUs maybe, narrative structure wise. Downfall is the story of gods who came in with a just cause and by the end, to quote the lawbearer, "punished them for being good". We could've had that first.

Then we go into Calamity and realize the war kickstarted bc wizards. As it stands, BH doesnt have the context of Calamity at all.

Also Matt put half the team (the one with Ashton in it too, where they first got wind of powers that were "older than the gods"). Like its not as if the antigod characters were coming into this from wholesale trauma alone. Matt did give them some basis to form their opinions.

But even outside of that... the options for Predathos was:

Reseal/Never unseal it

Destroy it

Secret Third Option

Let it destroy the gods

For BH, they felt as if the first option is not a good one. I think that this was true, but its just not true enough Now. It would be more true Later after the fifth attempt to unseal it, not the first. It would be, given the group, a decent choice for the first attempt at unsealing it.

"Destroy It" wasnt feasible at the moment. (Maybe at a later moment but again BH discounted option one as simply not a good idea)

And they dont want to destroy the gods either (mostly). That was too "morally bad".

So secret third option.

(i think the tragic irony is that matt would have pulled some BS - "you feel predathos pull you forward" so that BH would be forced to fight his BBEG. but then BH walks willingly into the pit so they get full responsibility now. fucking lel)

But also going back to options above... I think that those were the only options on the table. Keep Predathos caged. Destroy Predathos. Give Predathos a buffet. Secret option.

Destroy Predathos was out of their league so the morality of that was never considered. Harm-wise, that would have been The Best. But keeping Predathos Caged gets a Runner Up. Mind you, this is not a completely harmless choice. The only choice that fully prevents harm is "destroy predathos". But its a good runner up in the moment.

BH got ahead of themselves - like they were way too far of the disaster curve. The secret option should be taken when all other options have been exhausted! But these options must first be exhausted! We skipped several steps. Ergo not as cathartic. I dont think keeping Predathos sealed is a good idea. I do think that we should have made a token effort at it before we took the nuclear option.

obsessed with the fact that bell's hells won that fight explicitly because of their reliance on the gods. imogen and laudna both vocally saying 'thank you matron' at the beginnings of that combat as they use new skills or spells they've refreshed, orym wielding his sword, braius wielding his divine power, the entire party instilled with a hero's feast prepared by a cleric of the wildmother, imogen using power granted by the arch heart to bring down predathos -- an entity that has been described as welcoming her home, offering a womb she has longed to return to, her as its kin -- in imagery evoking the moment where the gods too decided to turn their backs on their home when faced with the monstrosity they were tied to, that they'd help bring about (something something, the arch heart gave mortals magic and imogen gave predathos its vessel). and the fact that bell's hells has slowly grown more reliant on the idea that predathos does not hunger for mortals -- something they in fact scoffed at when it came from liliana and ludinus' mouths -- predathos took several of them in his maw and tried to consume them.

viewing the story as one of a group of people predominantly blinded to the reality of their situations by the fog of their traumatized feelings -- as i've chosen to do for the sake of my sanity listening to them go on and on about gods that never gave them a lick in the same breath that they complain that the gods have too much power -- it is so extremely poetic that orym cut down ludinus with a sword blessed by the wild mother only for bell's hells to retread the path ludinus set up for himself. it is extremely ironic for a group of people who have implicitly raised complaints about the inherent manipulation that comes with the god's existence to come up with a plan that is explicit manipulation, demanding the gods become mortal or die [which to be clear, extremely interesting plan with interesting consequences that would be compelling to see! absolutely dogshit reasoning skills and moral assessment. but it is continually ASTOUNDING to me that a campaign that gets treated by some as the height of critical role's sociopolitical philosophical exploration features so many PCs who struggle (and not in the fruitful, developmental way but in the head-in-hands, can this student talk to the prof during office hours so I don't have to feel the second hand embarrassment of them making it obvious they haven't ever attended a previous lecture or done the class readings way) with ideas found in any first year philosophy course].

and to be clear this is not me devaluing the role of bell's hells in actually fighting the fight -- but all they've done is the same thing the gods were already doing, keeping predathos sealed, except now its in a volatile-at-best mortal who is on borrowed time re: being lost once again to its power. the only suggestion the hells have that this might be a justified and right course of action is the support of two gods -- one who has proven themself to be okay with the idea of death until it actually arrives before and the other one who is the only being on record who actually chose to be a deity -- out of a much larger pantheon, and their personal inclinations to agree with the ideology of a man who they have claimed to ardently disagree with but it turns out that was just because of his methods, I guess. scattershotting catalysts for change and hoping that change results in a Better World just. on its own (almost like. idk. fate) that you haven't even suggested practical (I'd even take theoretical ones atp) methods to achieve beyond Get Rid of a bunch of beings who are involved in actually extreme amounts of metaphysical and magical infrastructure isn't actually a course of action, its a course of chaos, and that is in fact worse than things staying the way they are if 'the way things are' that you keep referring to has only been shown to, currently, be that you and your friends feel sad and a little miffed that the gods you haven't offered anything to are only willing to do things for you when you serve them. unlike you, a group notorious for the way you do things for people you don't know without asking anything in return (this is sarcasm, if that wasn't clear).

anyway, I will continue to be frustrated by the lack of grounding for either (a) bell's hells having actually incisive and contextualized criticisms of the gods (either their own or from the actual mouths of the 'little guys' they are allegedly fighting for) or (b) more engagement with the fact that bell's hells as a party are not interested in making the morally right choice, they are at Best looking for a morally neutral choice. that said, if I ignore the actual story c3 has portrayed, the last few episodes have been a great wrap-up to a story about how singleminded trauma can make you and how that can lead you to place where there's no longer any Good choices to make, only potentially satisfying ones, where the question of who to satisfy takes the reigns over what is best.

[dayntee]

Normally, I’d agree with folks it’s weird a romanced Lavellan shows up so fucking late to the party when everyone knows where and what Solas is doing at the end of Veilguard.

However, my new headcanon is that my Lavellan was 100% on time. Unfortunately (? maybe fortunately), the moment she rolled onto the scene was also the *exact* moment Solas proclaims “Let us see if they have heard tales of the Dread Wolf,” and nukes that huge pack of Darkspawn like it was nothing.

If I needed a moment after that, she definitely did.

She immediately turned around to catch up later, or that conversation was going to go very differently.

[theemporium]

Hiiiii can you do smt with Remus Lupin? Could it be a best friends to lovers thing? Also could it be smutty? Thank you sooooo much ♥️

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“This is what friends are for, right?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your shaking hands gripping the sheets beneath you in tight fists. “Friends. Exactly.” 

And maybe the word would sound a lot more convincing if it weren’t for the fact your best friend was currently between your legs, two fingers buried deep into your cunt and the bottom half of his face glistening with your release after he had been teasing you for the better part of the last hour.

It had started off as most your usual lazy days with Remus did. You were lounging around your flat in comfy clothes as you both ordered a takeaway and cracked open a bottle to share between you. You started talking and catching up and the conversation vaguely veered onto the topic of your date the other week.

You confided in your best friend that it was an utter disaster. From the fact it was a blind date set up by a coworker to the fact he had spent the solid thirty minutes you shared in bed rubbing your inner thigh and thinking he was doing something, you had taken a large gulp of wine and grumbled some comment about men disappointing you.

You expected Remus to laugh and sympathise with your misery.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to show you that not all men were, in fact, disappointing. 

“I would never treat you like that,” he had muttered as his lips trailed down the length of your neck and down the valley between your tits. “I would fuck a girl as gorgeous as you dumb, make you cry me some pretty tears.”

The tension between you and Remus was nothing new. You were close, far closer than any two best friends ever should have been. Everyone knew the feelings you harboured towards each other but the fear of losing your friendship had always stopped either one of you making a move. 

But seeing his best friend complaining about some lacklustre wizard between her legs was the last straw from Remus. 

You owned his heart for the last few years, now he was going to own your pleasure. He was going to show you that no man would ever compare to him.

“Remus, please,” you whined as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, watching the way you clenched around him and your hips bucked for more. He didn’t think he had ever seen a sight so pretty.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he leaned down to suck your swollen clit between his lips, groaning in delight when he heard you mewl in response. “I know what my girl wants, just gotta trust me, baby.”

“I want you,” you breathed out, one hand reaching out to push his hair back so you could see his face between your legs. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he groaned against your cunt, his free hand reaching to keep your legs spread open. “You sound so pretty begging for me.”

Your fingers tugged on his hair as he lapped at your cunt, as he licked and kissed and sucked until your legs were shaking and your eyes were glossy with tears and you were begging for him to be inside you, to feel him fucking ruin you.

You moaned against his lips when he finally slid inside you, so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Your nails dug into his biceps, the only word leaving your lips between whiny breaths being his name. And Remus couldn’t help but feel smug. 

“That’s right, darling,” he groaned, his hips snapping against yours as he watched your body jolt with each thrust. One of his hands gripped your cheeks, his thumb passing your lips until you wrapped your lips around him and sucked on his digit. “My good girl, hm? Gonna lay there and look pretty whilst I fuck you silly. Gonna fuck the word friend right out of you” 

You could only whine in response.

.

[flagellant]

my latest tabletop characters in chronological order:

-17 year old orphaned anarchist guild leader who ends up apotheosing as the god of their homeland and ends up taking the throne to rebuild it after an apocalyptic disaster

-farmboy becomes a soldier in a war against a double-apocalypse, fucks up some invading fairies hard and gets captured as a war trophy, spends the next 400 years in fairyland before the moon says she likes his vibe and breaks him out by turning him into a furry and giving him ultimate cosmic power, which he mostly uses to act as the ethics babysitter for a godlich whose special interest is civil engineering.

-fairy princess eldritch wildlife biologist whose mom is basically titania. it was a very complicated relationship for like 14 levels and it took literal reality-altering magic rituals to start fixing their relationship. she hates the anarchist aforementioned bc hes 17.

-perfect prettygirl daughter of social climbing mother is predestined to inherit the ultimate cosmic powers of becoming part of heaven's secret police. theres two factions of the secret police and she hates both of them.

-rich frat jock gains insight into the hidden occult world and immediately uses it to start a homoerotic frat/dinner club dedicated to shapeshifting and blood sacrifice. snip snip snip

-prometheus got turned into a fairy. a girl who makes things explode with her mind and her friends turned him into a different kind of fairy. then he became her dad. he also accidentally used his fairy mind control powers to cause a global anarcho-communist insurrection due to going viral on international news. 1 billion people were actively mind controlled by it. he was not allowed on tv again but he did get a twitter

-genetically engineered soldier wolfboy has his furry polycule fireclade KIA by a gay sexy pirate and then gets saved by a ghost space whale. he then does war crimes and everyone is soooo mean to him but hes soooo sad about it. and then he performs lobotomy on himself and implants his negative emotions into a shackled AI god which loves him and hunted down his best friend and soul mate to be her service animal.

-a wizard in a mech keeps trying to infiltrate the gay space gnostics and they keep telling him no. then he gets corrupted by the logic plague because he saw the name of god and has ultrasurgery performed on him with the help of a team of hyperqualified shackled AI gods and a mad doctor who has been trying to create anti-god supersoldiers and he was the first success. and the gnostics immediately wanted his cock onboard their snake ship. he never experienced consequences for any of his actions:)

-girl from a noble family of divine heroes is very very late to inheriting divine herodom and has soooo many opinions about this. she spent the last 6 months hunting down a weird fairy with some new friends and spent the first 5 of them pretending to be stupid jock so they wouldnt bother her. she has been trying to eat the fairy this entire time but it hasnt been working yet.

-a werewolf who is big and brown and hypermasculine gets turned into a werewolf and freaks out bc apparently everything supernatural is real and he was weird for not believing in any of it. he totally doesn't have any body image issues due to being a big hypermasculine brown man with anger/resentment issues and he is totally fine with how everyone assumes he's just a stupid violent meathead despite being a trained EMT actively going back to med school for his doctorate. he literally went to a supernatural therapist to vent about lycanthropy and got scared when she did actual therapy on him. he's so in his head about how everyone interprets him as Big Scary Brown Man that he doesnt realize he's drowning in transgender dogs who are actively barking for his attention. he would put on a collar and not realize its a sex thing. a spooky nightingale told him it saw him from across the ghost forest and liked his vibes because he was a murderer

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 9: Easy Come Easy Go

Summary:

So there you were: buried under a thousand tons of heavy rubble after the explosion in the Cannery. Broken bones, blood everywhere and a broken will that makes itself felt. But that's about to change; with the discovery of a part of the Wizards Corpse, your whole life up to now is turned upside down, and with a few difficult decisions and inner complexes, you are reborn. The chapter that changes everything now; heaps of trauma, a new power flowing through your body and an adventure that will soon have you, Vi and Powder crossing paths again.

Notes:

The next chapter! By the way, I haven't even started the second season yet, in case anyone is interested. I'm just getting into the real plot of the series with this chapter, and there's still a lot, lots, of things to come. But I don't want to keep you that long, so have fun reading and leave kudos and comments! wc: 5K

---

What exactly was it that was going through your mind right now, in this moment, in this second?

Buried under so many tons of ceiling pieces just waiting to collapse on you and crush your body like your arm lying under a heavy piece of rubble. The only thing stopping all that debris, like the long piece of wood slowly drilling through your guts, was the thin steel wires of the Enforcer Gadget.

You were truly lucky in misfortune, although the misfortune is more present. Anyone who would see you now, here in the Cannery, buried under countless debris from the ceiling, would probably cry or simply not know which emotion to show on their face first. But who knows; a little boy who didn't know any better and made a brave attempt to prove himself now had to suffer the consequences.

"Remember Y/N, no matter what you do...Everything, and I mean everything, has consequences. You may not notice them at first, but on a deeper level they will always find a way."

You could only scoff because of the words of your real father that were running through your mind. Scoffing was an exaggeration, you open your mouth and the metallic taste makes you taste it, and your eyes see the red substance that is slowly escaping your mouth. You could barely move, even though there is a little space above you, your arm is still crushed under the rubble.

Never in your life did you expect to die like this. You didn't often think about death, after all, it caused you grief to know that everyone you ever cared about would die at some point, but it was important. Basically, everyone dies, you always told yourself, and then you just kept reading some book and stayed calm.

But this slow death was the worst thing ever. Not only were you buried under the countless debris just waiting to fall on you, but also under your own stupidity. Thinking that you could do anything. Thinking that you and Powder could be important one day. To think that there's a reason you were ever born.

Funny, right now you had to think about your real family. The pitying look you always got from your siblings when you started talking about magic. The feeling of being worth less than them, which they always told you and instilled in you.

Sad, the second time you think about it. You're already on the verge of death and you think about the worst moments of your life, but you always thought you'd see the best moments just before you died. There's hardly any air left to breathe, everything hurts, you can hardly see anything and you haven't heard anything for hours.

You were foolish: the action of throwing the Enforcer gadget at Powder's monkey bomb. At that moment you acted on instinct, after hearing what was going on in there you had to do something. But because of you, because of you alone, people were dead and soon you were too. Without you, The Monkey Bomb would never have exploded, Vi wouldn't have ditched Powder and everyone else would probably still be alive.

No matter what I do, it ends in disaster. Why exactly did this always have to happen? Couldn't something go right in your life just once, just once? Why did you always have to be the weak, little boy who had to be looked after? Why couldn't you be strong like Vi or Vander for once?

While you are asking yourself all these questions, watching your life pass you by, you don't even realize it.

Even though the adrenaline has worn off...you can feel your arm again. At first you don't pay any attention, after all you are probably seconds away from brain death.

But then you also feel no more blood in your throat, and that fills your body with energy.

What the?

It was strange, you were just about to die, and now your body gets an energy boost? Are you sure you weren't just dead and imagining it? Maybe this is the real death? Simply without any feeling of not existing again and again.

You try it out of sheer curiosity, like a researcher. It hurts, hardly any light or air and you try to pull your apparently crushed arm out from under the heavy rubble. With a few stitches, pulling on the sides a few times and slightly bending the stone with your other arm, you somehow manage it.

Using simple physics, namely the law of leverage, you pull out your arm, take a look at your Pale Skin and expect that what reaches your eyesight now is a completely bloody, crushed and dead arm.

But your right arm...

Looks brand new.

What's going on here? It was just completely crushed? What the hell is going on here?

The situation couldn't seem more surreal, as good as buried under a pile of heavy rubble, everything about to collapse from the steel wire you can already hear dragging, and your completely crushed arm has just healed itself. It sounded fake as I mentally went through the events, fantasy-like and a bit like...magic.

You take a good look at your arm, turn the inside towards your face and look at the veins. Everything looks fine, you think. It just looked the same as the last time you looked at your arm properly, but there was one thing you noticed the second time you looked over it.

Small scars on the palm of the hand.

You hardly noticed them the first time you looked at them, minimal scars, fading in with the darkness and barely noticeable on the surface when you brush over them. But the scars continue, which you can't believe at first. As if you had cut yourself on sharp wood, the small cuts continue towards your elbow.

WHAT THE?!

Slow, red spots that run from the palm of your hand, i.e. the top of your fingers, through your entire arm and stop at your elbow. You continue to look at the spot as you slowly realize that your heart is starting to beat faster, seemingly trying to breathe a second life into your body.

And then, just when the situation couldn't be funnier, you go through it again mentally:

I activated the monkey bomb using the enforcer gadget, and now I'm buried under all this rubble. When the adrenaline was gone, I could clearly feel my shattered arm? Why does it look like brand new now? And what kind of cuts are those?

Wait a minute...

Right now, right now. Just as you took an extra look at your arm, when a small beam of light passed through a groove in the rubble and hit your eyes for a moment, you could see it:

Another arm has just fallen out of your arm.

And to make matters worse: it's a corpse arm.

WHAT?!

You immediately become agitated, fidgeting like crazy and doing your best to understand the situation without freaking out, although you didn't really have the strength to do so. You here, buried under thousands of pieces of rubble and barely alive, and now some weird dark, fleshy arm coming out of you?

WHA?!

But as you look down at it, slowly choking on your own intestines, you realize something. It's taking a really long time, and normally you were definitely the smartest one in the group. But with hardly any air down here, cramped and wounded legs, blood on almost every part of your body and a mind that could barely cope with it all, it's taking longer, of course.

This is the Arm of the Wizards Corpse.

It was softer than you thought. Your inquisitive fingers poked at the flesh that had eluded your grasp all those days ago; you'd expected it to be crackly like baking paper, but it wasn't. It had the same softness of the wrinkled skin of old people: fragile and thin and delicate.

This is...

Your mind flees the situation; you end up somewhere else mentally, unlike this situation where minutes, seconds ago you were wondering if you were going to die. Although you are here right now, barely room to move, in a reclining position with your back slightly bent, your right arm propped up with your left, yet your mind allows itself to wander elsewhere.

The map.

It's like a cogwheel clicking in your head, slow puzzle pieces coming together to make a logical connection that you hadn't even thought about.

The map of this Jayce Talis, on which the positions of the Corpse Parts are marked. All nine parts of the Wizards Corpse, which are apparently so important that people spend years trying to find them, and even create maps...

And you ended up right in the middle of it.

How the hell did this come about?

The monkey bomb explosion destroyed and killed so much and you magically find yourself a part of the Corpse? Everything you've done since you learned of its existence has led you here.

And now you've paid the price.

Everything had a price. In this world, people count as objects just as much as anything else, you knew that. No matter what you did, would have done, everything had led you right here, buried under tons of rubble and the worst physical condition you've ever had.

You can only feel your whole body twitching a little: a tremor goes through your cramped legs and along your stomach, causing pain. Then it continues along your shoulder, where you feel a reaction especially in your right arm, and ends at your head, where you suddenly no longer feel the sore throat.

I don't want this.

Your eyes, now widened, look down at your right arm. The large cut in the middle, from which the Corpse Arm rushed out, suddenly seemed more like a disease than a blessing. You were just on the verge of death, but now you are suddenly healthy again and with a part of the most important magic object ever, a part of the Wizards Corpse.

You look down and feel along the corpse part. The dark flesh was strangely soft, almost squishy. The individual nails of the part, which look as if they are primary parts, the perfect construction of the flesh and the inner bone structure, which is barely visible...

With that, you look at your right hand, the corpse not being inside.

If you had the strength, you would probably scream. Your right arm was, to your shock, absolutely ruined. Bruised, bloody and bones hanging out. It was as if you'd been banging against a metal plate for hours, which is roughly how you could describe the sight, mashed up and absolutely disgusting.

At your slight shock, the Corpse Arm reenters yours. Slowly sinking in, the Dark Flesh disappears into your Pale Skin, leaving absolutely no trace. But one trace was left: Your 'Crushed' arm quickly reassembles, looking completely normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

The thing healed my arm...by magic?

You could see it, as if your eyes had a thermal vision you could see the little blue streaks along your arm. It looked like an aura, a certain life energy that originally flowed through the Corpse...now flowing through your arm.

The fine stripes stretched across your body and it left a strange feeling on your skin. As if you had goose bumps, but without the shock effect. As if a kind of sixth sense had just been born in you...

Magic.

You stand up a little further, bend your back so that your arm was right next to your stomach and you had a clear view of it. The familiar feeling of your arm, the nerves, was still there. But at the same time there was this other feeling that flowed from your arm through your whole body like energy.

Is that magic? This strange twitching feeling that flows through my body?

What exactly was it that was going through your mind?

A few minutes ago you were down here, completely devastated. Broken ribs, injured intestines, blood everywhere, a completely crushed arm and a broken will. Your mind was a mess, as were your intestines.

And now, the only thing that has improved is your physical condition. Mentally, you're still in a state of shock, for several reasons: What happened to the other people here in the explosion? Powder, Vi? Did your sacrifice make any sense at all?

I don't want this thing.

I want to see the others again.

Tears slowly form in your eyes and you can't stop them. The warm tears run down your rough cheek and drip onto the stone floor beneath you.

"I DON'T WANT THIS THING!" You scream, oh God, how you scream. You desperately try to stand up, only to hit your head against a pair of the debris and stumble to the ground: Without the Enforcer Gadget, you would be dead by now.

You grit your teeth, drop back down and just cry yourself out. You can do absolutely nothing, buried under thousands of tons of rubble, absolutely no strength and no will to go on. A few more times you try to scream, somewhere in the back of your mind the hope that someone will come and save you.

You are behaving childishly... But what should you do?

You are a child.

A child who received no love even from his parents and was seen as an outsider, even at home. A child who preferred to go from the Upper Town to the Lower Town in the hope of not being seen as absolute garbage there. But that's exactly what you were, a small, weak boy who preferred to live in fiction rather than reality.

You are so incredibly close to an emotional breakdown because of so many things. They're buzzing around in your mind, desperately trying to get you to finally give up.

One look down, at your arm, and you have found something that makes you think and distracts you from the thoughts that were threatening to kill you.

Surge

It was text, on the palm of your hand. Small letters that resembled scars, as if someone had carved something on your skin.

"Surge," you read. The Latin felt foggy on your tongue, and you weren't even one hundred percent even sure if it was Latin. But after a few seconds of thinking, you remember something.

These letters look like...

Your eyes catch sight of the shape of the letters in the little light beneath the rubble. It was as if they were composed of several individual shapes, like a mathematical equation that makes no sense without individual components.

Your magic book.

It makes sense, the same signs from your spellbook that were also in the notes of this Jayce Talis have something to do with the Corpse, of course. Now, of course, answer the question "What does it mean?" and maybe something will happen.

You think desperately, your hope of somehow surviving increases with every second that you have already discovered the Corpse Part. It's as if someone has breathed new life into you and whispered in your ear "There's always a way"

What can I do?

What should I do?

This Corpse Part changes absolutely nothing about my situation! It's no good, even if my wounds heal, it won't get me out of here!

Except...

Oh oh, there it was. A thought that will change everything, turn the whole world you've known upside down and show you much more than you ever thought possible.

You think, if you can really use magic, you need to use it wisely now. A spell from your book that gets you out of this wreckage while not overdoing anything to avoid attention.

For a moment, a very short one, you don't think about magic, death or the Corpse. Your thoughts land on the other important things that are worth living for, the reason why you haven't just given up and faced the pain until now.

It was powder and Vi, what else?

You don't waste another second thinking, you go straight to what you were thinking, an ice spell.

I can manage that.

Back then, when you were still with your parents, you always tried it in the garden. You almost giggle when you think about it. Pain all over your body that slowly subsides, hope that returns through the words that pass through your mind...and a determination that is once again unsurpassed.

"O Fearsome snow golem." The words you thought were fantasy before suddenly feel...real.

But you had forgotten one thing that you now had to do differently. As you were always able to draw your magic circle on the floor before, you put your right arm to your mouth and bite off a fingertip. With the blood that is now slowly dripping down, you draw a circle on the floor and the hieroglyphs you have memorized on the floor.

"O Fearsome snow golem. "

It feels as if power is gathering in your body, your aching limbs relax and you concentrate on focusing all your magic on one point: Your right arm.

Before you say the next words, think about everything again:

Your real family that has never blamed you.

Powder and Vi, who were helpless in this explosion.

All the pain and injuries you created by throwing the bomb.

And the last hope in your life: The Wizards Corpse.

"Give me your strength! "

Not a second passes, not even a fraction of a moment, but so much happens at once that your mind takes longer than usual to understand everything. Your body absolutely can't keep up in terms of understanding, but three things seem to have changed about your situation:

Firstly, several blue magic circles suddenly appear in the air. It looks like a perfect description of space, but with an incredible amount of hieroglyphics and small zips that look like electricity.

Secondly, you were no longer buried under tons of rubble. The stones, as you noticed with an upward glance, fly around weightlessly in the air. Below you, the steel wire that had held them up before, now acting like a spider's web.

Thirdly, you were finally able to get out.

You don't waste a second, even if you would like to look at everything for hours. Standing up quickly, against your cramped legs, you run straight out and out of the storm.

Heavy steps, an even heavier conscience, and a freedom you could only have believed in minutes ago. You managed to stand on the brink of death and still live on. Not only that, you just used magic that no one had ever believed in.

There's a huge crash and you turn backwards; all the debris has fallen again, and the Azure Magic seems to have disappeared. A little bit of dust comes towards you, and you have to hold an arm in front of your face. You can almost see it in your mind's eye: You under all the rubble, hunched up and completely devastated.

I was buried in there until just now...

So there you were: now standing in front of the huge pile of debris that was threatening to absolutely crush you. Any one of these single large pieces of rubble could have hit you in a place that would have meant direct death for you, but you survived.

Just as you are about to ponder the whole situation, your mind threatening to break and your will confessing, you see something: out of all the rubble rolls your Enforcer Gadget. The Small Steel Sphere that has already saved you several times and always seems to find its way back to you.

You walk over, with slow and faint steps that all leave a stinging sensation in your lower body, bend down and pick up the gadget. Here it is, in the palm of your right hand with a strange sensation running through your whole arm. But as you turn your hand over, not wanting to look at the object any further, you notice something.

Rotatio

It was text again. It was carved like a scar on the back of your right hand, making you think. The other letters were gone, the new text was longer than before, and seemed to be trying to bridge a new message to you.

When did that happen?

These letters were never there before, I would have noticed them, wouldn't I? Or have they only been there since I've been holding my 'steel ball'?

But the word was closer to your language this time than before, and with a re-reading of the carved letters on your hand, you realized what it meant. Your mind goes through your vocabulary, even though your mind is still Hazy, it quickly finds the one word that might fit:

Rotation.

But why now? I know that the gadget rotates and thus extends the wires? What does the arm of the Corpse have to do with rotation or anything here?

Out of pure instinct, you look around and your eyes adjust to the new view. The Cannery was absolutely destroyed, piles of debris and wrecked machinery everywhere. It looked like the aftermath of a war that had ended in kamikaze action.

You look down at the letters in your hand again. They are still there, but something is wrong, why are they still there?

What is that feeling in my hand?

Your right hand feels like something is happening, but it wasn't familiar, it was something new.

And when you turn your hand over, voilà: Your 'steel ball' spins like crazy in your hand. You haven't even put any pressure on it, but the spinning doesn't stop, and you can already see the weak muscles of your hand being affected by the rotation.

WHAT?!

It was strange, even crazy. Not exerting any force, but there seemed to be a source of energy that fed the rotation and kept it going.

The arm of the Corpse.

It sounds logical, but you shouldn't think about that now, you first have to understand the whole situation here and move on. The destroyed Cannery, Vi and Powder, Vander and the fact that everyone probably thinks you're dead.

You'll have to get used to this at some point anyway, so why not do it now?

It was a smart thought, seriously. You don't have the energy or the head to solve any puzzles or make connections to your New Magic and the rotation in light of the Corpse anyway.

So you leave, with your Steel Ball in hand, a few of the Blue Crystals and your spell book and Jayce Talis' notebook in your coat pockets, and head off.

Slow, experimental steps in the hope of finding something, anything. The thick air outside the rubble floods your lungs and you have regained the feeling of being able to breathe without worry. Long, comfortable breaths physically, and mentally already recounting all the events of the day.

["But the flow of things will always lead to calamity."]

Tears flow from your eyes again. You can't stop thinking about all the sacrifices and consequences of your actions, and it crushes you worse than the rubble could ever have. 

It's all your fault, as always. If you hadn't dropped the monkey bomb, it would never have exploded, Vander and the others would have escaped and Powder wouldn't be alone now. But you were determined to prove yourself for once, just like her. And what do you both get out of it now? Absolutely nothing except psychological problems.

You don't get far, after just a few minutes of wandering around the paths of the Cannery you find something. Your eyes don't recognize it on the ground at first, but you didn't have enough energy and your mind was somewhere else.

It's Vander's body.

He no longer looked normal: with dramatically increased muscle mass, several feet bigger in height, and purple veins that pop out all over his body.

You don't have time to risk another glance at him, in fear of collapsing completely if you did. But you fall to your knees and simply can't move.

Vander...

You can't stop the tears, neither the soft mumblings that come out of your mouth. Your eyes have already lost the light that slumbered in them before: curiosity died with the conscience that you are responsible for all of this.

The realization sets in again; people have died because of you. Everything here, all the destruction, the dead, the injured, the trauma that others now have and all because of you.

Why didn't I just die?

Thoughts like this fill your mind as you continue to look down at the seemingly lifeless Vander. It feels like you now have a certain choice, either to give everything you have for this moment or to just keep going somehow.

The tears stop for a moment and, by pure chance, you catch sight of the new letters on your right arm.

Serva eum

This changes the sad expression on your face. You become angry, Pure Rage is visible in your face and your posture, but you don't care.

Clenched teeth, slightly narrowed eyes and single drops of sweat flowing down. Your hands tense automatically, letting blood flow through your veins to somehow let out the Pure Frustration. You scream out of your Pure Selle what your Pure Frustration and Rage whispers to you.

"SERVA EUM?! I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS DAMN! DAMMIT! WHY?! WHYYYY!"

"It means 'save him ' ."

You immediately turn your head in an upward direction, where you catch sight of a man. A tall, lanky, and pale man, with a few bandages on his body and a purple scarf covering his chin and neck. At the same time, you notice that the right side of his face looks quite burnt.

Was he also hit by the explosion? Who is that?

"Are you one of those kids who...did all this?" He says, and you only see minimal movements of the cloth. But like his previous statement, it hits you and at the same time shows you that you have to be careful with this guy.

"No I..." Your voice sounds rough, still the voice of a child, but with an undertone that corresponds to many recent events. Maybe you've matured, or maybe you're just more traumatized than you were before. "Was just pulled along by the explosion"

"I see..."

You look away from his face, certain that he is still staring at you. You try to keep your expression as stoic as possible, but it's incredibly difficult in this situation.

"We can still save him."

You immediately open your eyes and stare at the man. When he sees how quickly you have changed your stoic expression, his look softens, and he raises a hand in a beckoning gesture.

"But I should warn you..." With that, your mind switches back on and you don't let your emotions guide you any further. "This path is... dangerous."

Dangerous? What does he mean?

"But from the looks of it..." With that, he looks around at what's left of this mess. "Doesn't seem to be any other way past it."

But then his eyes hit the huge pile of rubble that lay further away. Beneath it was a fine line of blood that was already beginning to dry and turn black. This line ran through a large part of the cannery and stopped... At the little boy sitting in front of him, you.

This boy really survived down here? Did he come out of the rubble up there? How? He must be damn clever. I could use someone like him. But I should be careful...

His gaze analyzes you, your posture, physique, injuries and then your eyes. But now he sees something that seems to have changed: ever since he mentioned that Vander was savable, the light in your eyes was missing.

This boy...is damn dangerous. His Fangs and Determination are Second to none, if I'm not careful his fangs may even reach me.

"Then I'll teach you..." He says after a few seconds, eyes still set on you, slowly sensing a slight nervousness in his voice. "And you'll be something like my apprentice..."

His apprentice? Who is this guy?

The moment was surreal, with Vander's big body in front of you and this man behind it. While your mind understands absolutely nothing, your body simply does what it wants and your conscience grows stronger again, you continue to listen to him.

"My name is Singed, and you are now...The Sorcerer's Apprentice"

On this day, you were born again, not as a human, but as a magician.

---

Notes:

That was...traumatizing. The only somewhat positive thing in this chapter was the ending, which I really picked extra for the progression of the story and series because Vi and Powder finally think Vander is dead. But a pact with Singed? Well, you don't really have a choice. I have to admit that the scenes with the magic were so much fun to write, seriously, way too much. Since the Corpse Parts awaken magic in your body, you can now use it, the pairing with the rotation of your 'Steel Ball' makes you the character with the most potential in the whole story, by far. The next update is coming for the genius story, where we'll finally get to Pure Panic, which I also like! Thanks for reading, feel free to leave kudos and comments!

[linmmelonz]

Guess the Build Doubles Quotes Part One

“We love a good twist ‘round here” Joel

“I am notoriously good at this” Skizz

“It’s a real flood of vom” Martyn

“[the lizards] he loves-they’re like children to him” Joel

“He’s WIIIIIDE!” Joel

“Otherwise it looks like he’s a bit of a contortionist” Joel

“It’s not gone…well” Grian

“There’s a lotta noise in this melon buddy” Skizz

“A pizza…ITS A PIZZA!!” Jim

“What the great googly moogly is this?” Grian

“Right, this is as far as we can get without things getting weird.” Grian

“Long…philangies coming out the top” Grian

“You’ve forgot eleventeen!” Martyn

“SABOTAGE HIS VIDEO JOEL!” Grian

“We’re best buds! We will not sabotage!” Joel

“When someone says: ‘there’s no such thing as perfect’ you just say: ‘the other side of the pillow’” Grian

“Su-phea what’s a su-phea?” Joel

“They’re stupid” Joel

“Yeah, yeah, um. Listen. Do your best. Lateral thinking here Jim!” Grian

“I just saw it-it jus-IT HAPPENED OK?!?” Skizz

“He looks absolutely baffled. He’s never seen that block in his life.” Jim

“He’s like ‘what is this dude? What is this man? I’ve never seen this block man before man! Grian what are you giving me man?’” Joel

“QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK!!! YELLOW, BIG, DONE!!!” Grian

“I am all busted up here.” Skizz

“Skizz doesn’t process information as fast as the rest of us” Grian

“Right so this is a bit of a puzzle” Grian

“You-you made us do equations!” Jim

“HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS AND HE LET ME BUILD THIS!” Grian

“Let’s agree. That was a disaster.” Jim

“No but genuinely what the heck is this thing?” Joel

“Oh! What are you doing back here???” Joel

“It’s far better than wizard pig” Grian

“Oh my god” Grian

“Gravity is a bit stronger and that Jim” Grian

“It’s not really important I’m just teaching you a lesson” Grian

[tumbleweed-run]

Hello! I love your writing <3 May I ask, do you have any headcanons for Gale? I have a few (eg: his mother raised him alone - he's an only child - as much as he enjoys homecooked meals he's very well known in Waterdeep's fine dining establishments) I'm interested in hearing what you imagine about Gale outside what the game tells us!

Lighter stuff

I agree with you on pretty much all points

Gale might appreciate wine but he strikes me as a fancy whiskey boy. It's a vibe I get

His mother hates the beard, which is why he didn't grow it out until the hermit stage

He loves all books. Magical tomes, history of Faerun, tawdry bodice rippers. And he has a system to his library but it makes no sense to anyone who is not Gale

Personally, I think he's well-known in all Waterdeep's dining establishments. He's in the Yawning Portal at some point as an adult but I also feel like he visits the finer restaurants- probably with his mother

he was raised wealthy, I know he like "oh I haven't dabbled in wealth" but my dear boy was Top Teir middle class at best. I don't think they were 'own the world wealthy' but I believe he grew up with more than just a housekeeper, not having to worry about money. Mama's got Sea Ward money

And of course (because I pointed out his 'tower' is in the Dock Ward) I think as an adult Gale moved to the "rough and tumble" part of town to prove himself. (which is probably why they know him in the poorer establishments )

His tower is a freaking row home, maybe its like two floors taller. But it is a house. Gale is just a fanciful man. Or he's manifesting that shit, idk

I also think he goes home to mama in the sea ward at least 2x a week

Gale is a sorcerer

Gale is 300% a sorcerer whose mother(not magic) was fed up with her shit being set on fire, so she sent him to train in magics the way she was most familiar - Wizard Apprenticing

Less Light Stuff

Gale mentions 'parents' once (I think during the I was denied a kitten speech) I think his father was there at first and then left. Maybe he couldn't handle Gale, or he was just a shitty guy. I think that was the road to Gales "I'm not enough, I must prove I'm enough" syndrome.

I also believe he first encountered Mystra in the Sea Ward at the 'House of Wonder' which is a temple devoted to her. I believe he was young like 13/14 but my guess is she was aware of him from a younger age. (Most wizards apprentice starting at 13... and usually have no spellcasting abilities which is...)

I don't think his favorite color is purple. I think it was Mystra's color and therefor it became his favorite (which is why I like dying all his clothes NOT Purple). Judging by the only room we saw, it's red/maroon/burgundy- but he doesn't know that

I think some of his stunts at Blackstaff were not just his own hubris though he sees it that way, but also at "hey mystra look at me" thing. Which I think she encouraged

I also believe that he was a young adult when the muse-to-lover transition took place. Maybe a few years after he left his apprenticeship, he was old enough to be a 'man' but it was definitely a product of grooming.

I don't think he was ever truly her Chosen. Most gods bestow cool powers (look at the dead 3) or at least protections. She just... screwed him? Taunted him with stuff she knew was going to keep him hooked on her?

When he saw Mystra's interest waning he panicked because he didn't have very many friends (his only named or mentioned friend is Elminster who has the most messed up history with Mystra) and he'd certainly not taken a lover once she 'chose' him. And I assume this was years before the netherese orb disaster. He probably did increasingly dangerous things/adventures to keep her attention, just like he did as a boy.

[strangelittlestories]

My teammates tell me I’m gonna to croak on the job.

They don’t mean soon. They’re not, y’know, assholes about it. They don’t mean I’mma get myself ended because I’m not good enough. They don’t even mean I’ll bite off more than I can chew. I can chew a lot, metaphorically speaking.

(And, like, sure I’ve snuffed it once or twice in the course of a mission - but it never *sticks*. And, sure, my team would probs suggest I add ‘so far’ to that sentence. But ‘hell never sticks … so far’ is grammatically weird, I think, so I reckon I’m morally in the right.)

What they mean is: I’ll never let myself leave the job, so of course I’ll lose myself to it.

Which. Y’know. Fair.

A lot of folks in the profession have this issue, of course. When you’re in the world-saving game, it can be tough to justify quitting and letting someone else take a turn.

I call it the Heroic Paradox. The ‘Heradox’, if you will.

Paradox part 1: an apocalypse demands a ‘hero’ or ‘heroes’. If it does not find one, a hero must be created. This is rough for the hero, ‘cos they’re a normie with a normal life and the process of going hero mode will take that life away from them.

(I’m actually not a huge fan of the term ‘hero’, but ‘designated end-of-days preventer’ is lengthy.)

Paradox part 2: if an apocalypse begins and the hero(es) already exists, then job’s a good’un, just crack on with business and de-apoc the lypse.

Paradox part 3: if the hero(es) are a few apocalypses deep and now pondering retirement on a nice little island/farm/wizard tower/public office, you hit that awkward moment where a hero is called for, but not yet present. Best case scenario: some poor schmuck gets their life ruined by ‘destiny’.

Worst case? The hero refuses the call or gets snuffed out early or *there just isn’t anyone appropriate* and that situation really puts the ‘scat’ in ‘eschatology’.

So … yeah, I don’t see myself retiring.

But if I’m honest - if I peer really intensely at the squirming pile of neuroses that lurk beneath the justifications - I was this way *before* the stakes got this high. I’ve always been a ‘crisis mode’ kinda jerk.

Lurching from mission to disaster to disastrous mission has always been where I feel most *myself*.

Now you (or my team) might say: that’s no way to live. Everyone needs downtime. Rest. Enrichment.

It’s been the downfall of many a hero that they hit crisis mode so hard, they don’t bother going to *therapy*.

My answer to this is simple: if you treat self-care and self-maintenance as being *really fricking urgent*, you can roll that work into your *existing* crisis pattern.

This is actually pretty sustainable. Because first: that stuff *is* urgent and you’re a bilge-organist if you don’t realise it. And second: the best kind of therapy is always the one you’ll *actually do*.

So yeah: I’ll pass away on the job. Because even the soft fuzzy nonsense I do … it’s all for the job.

And you know what? If it means I’ll exit this world knowing who I am? I’m okay with that.

---

Ko-Fi supporters! Please submit your prompts/requests for November and any months you've missed :)

https://forms.gle/PKgyrFxfYEQosVdn8

[officialparknerawards]

Parkner Awards 2024 Nomations

I did have one fic that I couldn't find that was nominated and no link was provided. Make sure to always provide links as it makes our job easier. These are the nominations though. Voting starts September 3rd.

Few reminders: a fic can only win once per year (but can be nominated for more than one category), all winners will be announced the first week of October or second week (as that is our heads break from work). Any fic with two or less nominations will be open for nominations and will possible be taken off next year to be replaced with a new category. All ties will be determined by the staff.

Fluff Fics: Coffee and Chamomile by bee bark, Canned Corn by impravidus, All's Fair in Love and Potatoes by peterparkersbff, scrapyard tinkering and bisexual awakenings by ChaosIsOrder

Hurt/Comfort: kicked out, taken in, loved for who you are by ChaosIsOrder, BuzzFeed Unsolved: Supernatural - The Hoosac Tunnel by EmmaElsa0000, it's always who is spider-man, never how is spider-man by i_regret_thatpersonalityquiz

Angst: Desperate Situations Call For Desperate Measures by bee bark, You Asked Me for a Flower, I Brought You a Bouquet by voyagerthirteen, The Right Thing by m4xw3ll

Field Trip Fics: touring towers and italian restaurants by thompsborn and Field trip disaster by MissCellophane

Social Media AU: A Spider on the Web by bee bark, Unread Messages by WaywardKeener, The Blue Check Mark Won't Dry Your Tears by the_oncoming_stormageddon

Post-NWH: two steps forward, one step back by ChaosIsOrder and Did I Bury the Best Parts of Me in that Coffin by WaywardKeener

Non-Canon Compliant: Well, this is awkward by Saturning and that time a wizard was so scared of thanos coming back to life that he forced me to get a boyfriend by ChaosIsOrder

College/University: two steps forward, one step back by ChaosIsOrder, the velocity of a cheerio by MagicaLyss, Some Days I'm Lonely (And Some Days I'm Not) by wittepain

Superhero Harley Keener: two steps forward, one step back by ChaosIsOrder, Hell or High Water by PeachyKeener, you can wear my sweatshirt by impravidus

Identity Reveal: Seconds from a Secret by shipskicksandgiggles and these little moments by impravidus

Future Fics: Family Cares No Matter What by WaywardKeener and teaching is an art of passion by ChaosIsOrder

Proposal/Marriage: playground wedding (a marriage that lasts) by ChaosIsOrder and we are wild, we are like young volcanoes by LilacsAndLilies

Tony Stark: scrapyard tinkering and bisexual awakenings by ChaosIsOrder, The Eye of the Beholder by saladbabie, When The Coffee Grounds Align by itsallAvengers

Soulmate: promises, promises, promises by MayWilder and Skin-Deep by m4xw3ll

Art: Parkner Sketches by miauwa and The Iconic Spider-Man Kiss Parkner Edition by rrcenic

Newbie Writers: nazu

OG Writers: bee bark, Sarah_Sandwich, ChaosIsOrder

Artist: waechterin-der-nacht and miauwa

[project-sekai-facts]

The profile cards for WonderlandsxShowtime's first live feature short interviews, with MEIKO and Len asking the members what their most memorable moments have been so far.

Tsukasa picks his performance as Torpe in the show Torpe the Pianist (On the stage of dazzling light), because it was the first time he played a character who was the complete opposite of him, but he found that if he perseveres, he can find a way to connect to the character.

Emu starts to list off moments from all of their shows. Before getting cut off, she mentions when it started snowing during A Merry Christmas (otherwise known as Smiling Christmas) (On A Holy Night, This Singing Voice), and the Night Show which made everyone in the park smile (Wonder Magical Showtime!).

Nene picks her ad-libbed performance from The Adventures of the Mermaid Prince and Mermaid Princesses (Mesmerised by Mermaids). Although she was nervous, she was able to save the show with her singing, and even got praised by her idol.

Rui picks The Travelling Troupe (otherwise known as Pegasus Odyssey) (Main story chapter 18). Despite him not being a part of WxS at the time, it was the show that Tsukasa, Emu and Nene performed to get him to join, and it marked the start of their journey together.

Question for all: What has been the most memorable scene in a show so far?

Member 01: Tsukasa Tenma

Tsukasa: Hmm. It's hard to pick just one scene. After all, I put my all into every show! MEIKO: Indeed, you always pitch with all your might, don't you! T: Yeah. Although... Let's see... The first show that comes to mind is Torpe the Pianist. M: That play was wonderful! Your performance also had a different feel to it than normal. T: Mhm. I learnt from that role that even if a character seems to be the complete opposite of me, I will be able to understand them if I persevere. M: Being able to play someone different from you is one of the best things about acting! T: Yeah! I wonder what sort of role awaits me next... I'm looking forward to playing it already!

Member comment: I hope you enjoy the story we're telling!

Member 02: Emu Otori

Emu: Mmm~, there was the time when it snowed during the Christmas show! That was super Wonderhoy... Len: It was amazing! It was like the sky saw everyone's show and decided to help us out! (Translator note: I don't think this is translated correctly) E: Yeah, yeah☆ Also, there was the story about the wizard from the Night Show! The magic of smiles made the park light up and sparkle... hehe, I still smile even when I look back on it now ♪ And then there was- L: Ah, Emu-chan... it's almost time to go... E: Eeeh, already~!? I wanted to tell everyone about all our shows so far~! L: Y-you were going to tell us about everything!?

Member comment: Let's go on a Wonderhoy adventure together!

Member 03: Nene Kusanagi

Nene: A scene that left an impression on me... I have to say my ad-libbing during The Mermaid Prince, even though it wasn't in the original script. MEIKO: The show we did at the beach. You ran into a problem and had to solve it, right? N: Yes. I was a bit nervous... but my singing was able to help. M: You were able to turn the disaster around! N: I guess so. ...Thanks to that, I got some nice words from the person I admire. M: Hehe. Well, if anything happens again, maybe something good will come of it as well! N: I-I don't want that much trouble...

Member comment: I'd be happy if I could sing a memorable song.

Member 04: Rui Kamishiro

Rui: Well, I would like to say a scene from a show that I directed myself, but actually the scene that left the biggest impression on me is something else. Len: Really? R: Yes. If I had to pick one scene, it would be the scene where a lonely alchemist is invited to join a travelling theatre troupe. L: What show was that? R: Before we formed WonderlandsxShowtime, Tsukasa-kun and the others created that show to get me to join them. L: Eeeh~, so it's the show that started it all for you guys? R: Yeah, that's the moment when our journey began... I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that.

Member comment: Let's surprise everyone with the performance we've prepared for today

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Four

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here

a/n: things are gonna get complicated soon haha

word count: 4676

tw: mention of sex, cursing i guess

summary: the events of the world cup haunt cass but it’s not easy for mattheo either.

<previous chapter next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

Like every summer, Ki's parents invited me to stay with them three in Italy for two weeks. And in return, as every year, we took Ki with us to Greece with mom in the following two weeks.

It was, as always, fascinating; being at the sea again, wearing the clothes from my summer wardrobe — my favourite thing on earth, — speaking Greek with the family, taking long hikes, and of course, enjoying the lively nightlife of first Rimini and then Skiathos.

The summers with Ki were always full of fun — and adventures. She seeks adventure more at parties while I'm more into being outside, doing whatever; hiking, swimming, running, collecting rocks and seashells. So, I'm the one navigating during the day and she's the one to do it at night. But one thing we can agree on is living life slowly on some days, going on picnics with the food I made while she was the entertainment (screaming Shout at the Devil from the top of her lungs), painting by the ocean or in the woods and reading in each other's company (not even the same books, but we always share the big events from them).

So, coming back to London was rather depressing: leaving the 30 degrees we got used to over the previous four weeks and having to get used to the maximum 24, again.

And, honestly, I wanted nothing more than to go back which I would've done on a broom even, even if Zeus and Poseidon both had decided to foil my plan of flying over the ocean back to the peaceful life I've been living in the past month.

I would've done it because August 18th, was a disaster.

I've never experienced such contrast before; one minute we are in our tent with Ki, cheering, in a chinwag about the World Cup, about which I had to explain most things during the match since Ki only came because of me, and now, I'm running frantically, shouting her name because I don't know where and when I've lost her. I only know that one second I was running, holding her hand, wand in my other hand, and now there's only my wand that I'm gripping.

The whole thing is a blur, a complete mess in my head as I'm trying to make sense out of everything. Seeing the crowd of those wizards, practically carrying a muggle family in the air overhead — not seeing any of the wizards' faces because they were wearing masks and hoods, just a minute ago has me worried. Where is she?

"Ki!" I shout, my throat already sore, my voice trembling. I don't get any response. "Kiara!" on the verge of crying, I don't even know what to do, in the fear of losing my best friend. In the fear of losing my sister.

I hold my wand out as I hear footsteps coming my way, ready to duel if needed.

"Draco?" I look at my cousin, completely gobsmacked and I lower my wand just a bit.

"Thought I'd see you with Potter," he retorts snarkily. He looks completely calm, not bothered by the situation and the chaos going around more than about me running around with Harry or not.

"Where are your parents?"

"None of your business," he barks back. I miss the times we were friends — when he was actually acting like we were family.

I get a flashback of the hooded and masked people marching through the campsite and I have a strong suspicion about where his parents — or at least his father — may be, getting the answer to my own question. "He's among them, isn't he? Lucius," I raise my wand back again, pointing at him.

"Regulus would be disappointed in you," he spits instead of answering, making my eyes widen in disbelief. That little prick.

"My father wasn't one of them!" I raise my voice. "He didn't torture people! He was nothing like our family and nothing like your father!"

Draco steps closer, talking in a way-too-calm voice, almost asking to be hexed.

"Then why did he die? He couldn't bear his duties, couldn't bear the trust he was given."

"You take that back! You take that back now," I raise my wand.

"Cass!" I hear Ki's voice from behind and she's only watching us for a moment as I'm waiting to get a reaction out of Draco. "Not again," she mutters under her breath before gripping my wrist and pulling me away from my cousin.

"Go on, run away like your cowardly dad!" He smugly spits after us and this is where I lose it; I free my wrist from Ki's grip and taking a step closer to Draco, not giving him any time to react more than making his self-satisfied smirk disappear from his lips, I punch him in the face, hearing the bone in his nose crack as his head tilts backward with a flash of his platinum-blonde hair.

"You filthy blood traitor!" He yells after me as Ki now pulls me away for real and Draco practically runs in the other direction.

"You are a mad woman, boyfriend material, almost," Ki says with a satisfied smirk and this is the point where relief washes over me as my mind gets clear just by hearing this very Kiara comment and I pull her closer, hugging her tightly.

"You are alright, are you? You got hurt?" I grip on her t-shirt as I hug her.

"I didn't," she reassures me, returning the gesture with just as much affection.

"MORSMORDRE!" I hear from the distance, pulling back from Ki, but not letting go of her hand.

We both turn in the direction of the voice, seeing a green flash of light in the sky light up the whole area of the camp, forming a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth like a tongue.

"What... is that?" Ki's grip on my hand tightens and so does mine on hers.

"The Dark Mark," I reply with a shiver and a gulp. I've seen it countless times when reading about my family's past or the past of the Wizarding World in general.

In the remaining ten days of summer break, I'm absolutely knackered. I can barely sleep, thinking about Draco's words and what happened at the World Cup. And when I try to sleep, the events haunt me as nightmares, feeling as if I was near dementors all the time; siphoning and squeezing all the happiness and hope out of my body, the experience adding up to me thinking about where Sirius might be all summer long. Harry, my only source of information on the topic, hasn't told me anything in his letters; maybe he hasn't heard of him either. But still, why do I care about him when I've never even met him? And why do I care when he clearly has no intention of changing this, after what I made out of Harry's words last schoolyear.

About what happened on that ominous night in August; it blew up the whole Wizarding community, causing everyone to freak out currently. Ki and I have come to the conclusion that something is up and stinks like a whole load of dung bombs.

On the first of September, after saying goodbye to mum we get on the train, looking for our friends. We find Mattheo, sitting alone in a compartment, only Enzo's bag is there next to his on the overhead luggage rack, but the boy's nowhere to be seen.

He doesn't notice us until I kick his right foot gently, smiling down at him, "Hiya."

He smiles back, his gaze wandering for a moment on me. Somehow, his smile got... brighter? That's not the right word. But it somehow changed a little bit. He gets up to give me a short hug, which gives me just enough time to notice he indeed got taller and how nice he still smells, "You're... different," he states.

"I got taller," I grin.

He pulls back a little, looking at me as if he could just tell how many centimeters I am exactly and he says, laughing: "Bollocks, you did not."

"No, I didn't," I shrug with a smile, plopping down into the seat opposite his to let him greet Ki as well.

And while he does that, my gaze lingers on him for a moment, admiring his dark curls, long lashes, and outfit choice, the same short-sleeve over long-sleeve thing but it's something I do a lot too and I love. And it suits him. But something is different about him; maybe he looks a bit more mature — not too much, really just slightly. But he's clearly got taller too, I felt it when he hugged me. It was... different.

Mattheo and Ki both sit down and I can't help but feel caught as he looks at me. I look up at the luggage rack, eyes setting on Enzo's bag.

"Where's the bloke?" Ki asks as she looks at it as well.

"Shagging," Mattheo shrugs casually, making me frown.

"Enzo, shagging someone?"

"Yeah," he nods.

That's something new. He wasn't the type to just go about his day and seduce girls in this mean. Sure, he's always been a bit of a flirt, but never has he taken it this far, and it has never been serious, the flirting I mean; when he likes someone he usually just stares and smiles awkwardly when caught. And like, he's just turned fifteen. Exactly a month ago. This is new and for some reason, frustrating. Never would've thought he'd be the type to do this so easily and nonchalantly.

"Piss off, he isn't," Ki shakes her head, gobsmacked.

"He is!"

"No, he's not! Sweet baby Enzo doesn't even dare looking at girls he likes because he's afraid of talking to them, the coward prick," Ki refuses to believe and I can't help but chuckle at her statement.

Mattheo shrugs with a hint of mischievousness, "He's changed. And he doesn't even know the girl."

Now this really is something new. Never seen him like the kinda guy to just... get someone to hook up with, to be frank.

Ki and I share a look, my surprise reflecting on her face as well.

Right on time, Enzo steps into the compartment, adjusting his belt.

"You disgusting little prick, what have you done to Enzo," Ki starts, not even greeting him, no, jumping right in the middle of scolding him. Though she's only joking about the scolding part, we both still are astonished.

"Hi to you too," he turns to Ki with a roll of his eyes, slightly frowning before looking at me with a small smile, "You look-"

"Different, yes," Ki cuts him off. "And stop looking at her like a piece of meat. Keep your hands away from her."

"Okay, enough," the boy shakes his head, Matt hiding how much he enjoys the scene in the seat next to him. "What's got into you, Kiara?"

"Piss off, I know about your business and you're not shooting your shot with her," she grabs my arm. I swear she's like a brother who tries to keep everyone away from me even when it's not necessary sometimes.

"Business?" he frowns.

"Shagging, Enzo!" she retorts with a grunt.

"I was at the loo!" he says, offended, also blushing. I look at Mattheo, who can barely keep in his laughter.

"But with who, hm?" Ki squints her eyes and I kick Matt's foot again. He tries to regain his control over his about-to-burst laughter and I see through him almost immediately.

"Alone!" Enzo frowns, annoyed, gesturing with his hands.

Mattheo can't hold it anymore, snickering can be heard from his direction. Ki and Enzo both turn to him.

"You twat," Enzo counters with an annoyed look on his face. "Did you really tell them I was with a girl? Or a guy?" his eyes widen.

"Fuck, you're right, that would've been funnier," Matt flashes a smug grin, earning a middle finger from Enzo.

"Ki," I say calmly with a small hiding in the corners of my mouth, my eyes already wrinkling from the expression, "I'm not in need of an arm amputation at the moment," I refer to her still gripping my elbow.

"Right, sorry," she lets go of it while the door slides to the side, Theo stepping into the small room, immediately whistling.

"What a beautiful sight!" he grins at Ki and I before plopping down next to Enzo. "Alle ragazze sono cresciute le tette." (The girls grew boobs.)

I frown, not understanding a word, looking at Ki, who suggestively smirks at the boy.

"What did he say?" I ask but she just shakes her head.

Theo flashes Ki a grin, talking somewhat seductively — or it's only the Italian accent. "I miei pantaloni stanno diventando sempre più stretti. Puoi finalmente aiutare?" (My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?)

To that, Ki's face flushes red and Mattheo opposite me frowns with a disgusted expression. "Bloody hell man, I didn't need to know that!"

Ki finally speaks up, not even looking away from Theo, "Right here and now?"

I'm waiting for a kind of explanation, looking both at Theo, Ki, and Mattheo but when no one says anything, I shift my gaze at Enzo who shakes his head with the same look in his eyes as I have in mine; being left out, being the only two who don't understand anything.

Theo then turns to me and says with a small, genuine smile "Sei più bella che mai."

I have, again, no idea what that meant, but I assume it wasn't as... risky as what he's said to Ki. But it sounds beautiful, especially because Theo said this one so gently, even with that thick Italian accent of his. "Translation?" I say finally.

"You are more beautiful than ever," Mattheo says, locking his gaze with mine, answering when Theo and Ki have only opened their mouths, yet to do so, and Enzo turns to him with a facial expression I'd call slightly frustrated. I can't help but smile, biting my lip as I'm met with those shiny brown eyes. He says it as if these were his own words, but that I just shove to the side.

Then I turn to Theo as I shake myself out of my thoughts, still blushing lightly. "You can't complain either," to that, he grins at me, then speaks up, "So, how was summer y'all?"

"Horrible! This bitch kept me outside all summer! Plus you don't want to know what it's like to get woken up by such shit of her leaving for her run every day at five! Five! In the morning!" Ki starts before anyone else could.

"Says the one who actually glued me to my bed..." I retort, making the boys laugh.

We get to hear about Theo's summer in Italy and how he got a girl to blow him for concert tickets — reactions contain such controversial things as "Mate, that's not cool!" and "Fuck man, great deal!"

Matt doesn't say much, we only get a "nothing much happened" and "was with Theo."

As for Enzo, he talks about how he went to France with his father.

"Now about the World Cup," Enzo says quickly after he finishes his report about his summer, leaning a little bit forward and so do Theo and Mattheo as if we were about to let them know about some secrets.

"Which part?" I ask, trying to avoid the incidents with Draco. "Because I mean, that Wronski Feint was amazing and-"

"Not about that," Theo cuts me off but I can see a small smile hiding in the corners of Mattheo's lips as I mention the trick. "About what happened after the match."

We tell the boys what happened, from the start of the Death Eaters causing fire and such, through us losing each other in the crowd to the point where the Dark Mark appears in the sky.

"...and she punched Malfoy in the process," Ki states proudly, squeezing my shoulder, to which the boys' eyes widen.

"You should really consider switching houses," Theo smirks, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

"What did he do this time?" Mattheo asks and I'm about to tell him he was simply disrespectful toward half-bloods and muggleborns, which of course was not the exact reason for me to punch him, but the door of the compartment opens, sliding to the side once again by the Head Girl of the new school year.

"Ah, great, almost all of you are here," she starts, looking at Ki, Enzo and then me. "Come with me, we'll inform you about your duties as Prefects, now."

We both nod, getting our bags from the rack overhead and waving goodbye to Theo and Matt. I forgot about this part. I've been excited about this all summer — Ki wasn't because she hates kids but she still liked the idea to have an excuse to be out of bed after curfew — but now I just want to stay here.

As we leave the compartment, I'm following Beatrice close behind. "Who's the other from my house?"

"Cormac McLaggen," she answers with a sigh. I bet she knows him just as well as everyone else — the guy has a reputation for being a pompous prick.

I frown, wanting to just simply end my life here and now, and Ki's snickering can be heard from behind me.

"You're fucked, girl," she starts, an empathetic hand on my shoulder but she's grinning. "And if it's on him, you should take this literally."

Patrolling with Cormac McLaggen is what I'd call exhausting torture; listening to him talk all evening (after the feast, eating until I feel sick and tired of everything, and after the big news of the Triwizard Tournament) about how I should dedicate my first Hogsmeade Saturday to him and how gorgeous I've grown over the summer is tiring and extremely annoying and I swear it's a million times worse than having a Mandrake scream at you from up close.

Turning onto another corridor with Cormac's irritating non-stop chatter, I spot Mattheo — but so does Cormac, the twat. I mean, he's not a twat for noticing a guy clearly out of bed, away from the Dungeons where he should be in his dorm. He's just a twat in general.

"What are you doing here, Riddle?" McLaggen steps forward, blocking my way of walking and seeing Mattheo. He's going to the Astronomy Tower, of course.

"Sleepwalking," Mattheo states, annoyed, making me smile. I can tell just by his voice that he's rolling his eyes. Okay, let's forget about this. I sounded like a creep.

Cormac grabs my arm and starts pulling me back as if defending me, "Come on, Cassandra..."

"...Cassiopeia..." I hear Mattheo correcting him with a snicker, but Cormac clearly doesn't.

"...he's dangerous. I'll keep you safe," the bloke finishes and as he pulls me with greater force, I angrily grab my wand with my other hand, pointing at him from behind.

"Confundo," I call out, causing a pale pastel pink light to hit McLaggen and force him to let go of my arm. He starts to walk away, back to his dorm where I intended to send him.

I turn back, seeing Mattheo still standing there, watching with his big brown eyes sparkling at the little mischief.

"I befriended the devil," he grins at me as I move closer to him.

"Should've sent him to the Black Lake for a date with the Giant Squid," I mutter, taking Mattheo's hand as I start to walk toward the door to the Astronomy Tower. I unlock it and disappear behind it with the boy's warm hand still in mine before anyone can notice us.

"This boy will be the death of me, I swear. If I don't end his life first," I let out a deep sigh, leading Mattheo up the stairs.

"Shouldn't you send me to bed? Or deduct house points?" he tilts his head lightly and I turn my head to look back at him. "Or are you going to beg on your knees to be shagged?" he asks with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and a grin. I smack his arm with an angelic smile in return.

I immediately let go of his hand as I get this is quite unnatural for him and me — this physical stuff.

"Why have a Prefect friend if not for sneaking you out of bed?" I smirk at him.

"Alright, fair," he laughs softly as we make our way up to the tower.

I stop suddenly — we both only come here when we need some time alone. And I planned to come here after patrolling, anyway.

"Why are you coming here?" I look up at him who's yet to notice I stopped a few steps prior.

"Why are you coming here?" he turns around, looking down at me.

"It's not an answer. And I asked first," I point out with a furrow of my brows.

"I'll tell you if you do too. And if you finally tell me why you broke Malfoy's nose," he stretches his arm out for me to take his hand as an offer, to go up with him and talk.

I look at his hand in front of me, hesitating. Not because I don't trust him and don't want to tell him — but because this physical touch thing is utterly new with him.

"The two things are actually related," I sigh, finally taking his hand. His face lights up slightly which makes me smile a little bit.

"You start, then," he smiles, leading me up to the top.

"The prick disrespected my dad," I tell him as soon as we sit down by the railing, letting our legs down under the metal by the edge of the tower. "See, he's always been a sensitive topic I guess... and Draco told me he would be disappointed..."

I take a moment before continuing, sighing. Godric, why is it so hard to talk about this?

He takes my hand again, squeezing it, to which I smile empathetically.

"...In me. He'd be disappointed if he saw I disrespect our family and such... not following their views. Not following the legacy. Then I hit him when he called dad cowardly."

The words are resonating in my ear. My own words, about how I hit someone. Hit. Someone. I. I hit someone. My actions are only now sinking in; two weeks after it happened.

"I would've done the same," Mattheo looks at me, searching my face, reassuringly rubbing my hand with his thumb, his touch creating a warm sensation on my skin. "I mean, not if he was disrespectful towards my... father, you know. If I were you, I mean. He deserved it."

"But you're a boy," I state.

"And he's your cousin. It's like a... brotherly fight, isn't it? And your family is problematic on it's own so it's not a surprise you can't keep your temper in check," he smirks. His words are true though and I can't deny it. But still, I hurt someone.

"So then, is this why you wanted to come here? Because you hit someone who deserved it?" he looks into my eyes and I shake my head.

"No... it's just... what I saw at the World Cup. That night," I look away for a moment, letting my guard down.

"The... mark?" he says the word with pure disgust, and with a sigh, I nod.

"And the people. They were... you know. His followers," I look back at him. "And I have this feeling that something is up... and I really hope I'm wrong for once. Because as much as a nerd I am, I've read some books and articles on the topic. And I'm just... afraid. Because after more than a decade, it's odd how they all show up all of a sudden."

"I have nightmares," Mattheo says suddenly when I stop talking. "I-I used to have them but I didn't have a single one in a really long time. And those I had before were different. But now... this summer, I had a lot. I was hoping they didn't mean anything and my gut feelings are usually wrong but... after what happened," his voice is a little shaky; I've never seen him this vulnerable and it makes me worry. "I can't be sure anymore."

He looks away, trying to hide his feelings by doing so. I squeeze his hand as his words sink in. He has nightmares, and Death Eaters were at the World Cup, causing chaos, and torturing muggles and muggleborns. Something stinks.

"I'm just kind of scared because... what if something bad happens?" he admits, to my genuine surprise.

"Yeah, mate, I don't have a good feeling about it either," I shake my head, intertwining our fingers for more comfort for the both of us. Strange, this newfound physical comfort with him. But it's definitely something I like and could bear more often.

"And like, the new Dark Arts teacher seems kinda dogdy. His eye scares the shit outta me," he smiles lightly as he looks up from our hands to meet my eyes, trying to enlighten the mood after letting the conversation sink in fully.

"He's the most famous Auror, actually," I laugh. I can't disagree with his reasoning about Moody's eye but I somehow find it fascinating. Strange, but fascinating. Rather grotesque. "I mean, it's kinda cool, he looks like someone who fought against werewolves and vampires and survived."

"But like, what if it has x-ray capability?" he chuckles, making me laugh.

"Then it's something McLaggen would really like to use," I shake my head with a laugh, looking back into his eyes.

"Theo as well," he points out, making me remember what he said on the train.

"Speaking of whom," I start. "What did he tell Ki?"

"My pants are getting tighter and tighter. Can you finally help?" he quotes Theo's exact words with a frown.

My eyes widen and my mouth hangs open. I mean, I get why it made Kiara blush.

"You'd like to hear that from someone too?" he grins, seeing my slight blush in the starlight. "From McLaggen maybe? Or shall I call him McCharming? McDreamy?"

I can't help but almost burst out laughing at his suggestions but he makes me blush embarrassedly at them, just with the whole conversation and where it went.

"McPrick would be perfect for him. Or McICan'tCountUpToTen," I suggest, making him laugh.

Once our laughter dies down, I move a little bit closer to him, leaning on his shoulder, thinking through this extremely long and exhausting day.

"Did Theo really make a move on Ki? Or was it just the causal banter?"

"Dunno. The bloke kinda has a thing for her," he would shrug if my head wasn't on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that one I could tell. How come you speak Italian though?" I point out.

"Theo's mum taught me."

One thing I might have not mentioned before is how after You-Know-Whose disappearance, the Notts took Mattheo in. I don't have many details because Theo doesn't really like to talk about his family, especially not his mum since she died when the boys were young, years before we started Hogwarts. Even the thought of losing mum is painful, of course I don't pressure them into talking about her.

I suddenly remember how he translated Theo's words to me on the train. When he said I was 'more beautiful as ever' and I feel this urge to ask if Theo's words are true. Not to fish for compliments — just to know if he agrees at least a little bit. If he thinks I'm beautiful. At least a little bit. It's strange and I don't know why I'm even thinking this.

He clears his throat after some time, "But if you tell the others about my nightmares I'll put a dung bomb into your bag."

I just smile lightly, nodding, my head still on his shoulder, "Noted."

i hope you enjoyed this one! next chapter next wednesday<3 comment to be on the tag list.

tag list: @reyys-letters @mqstermindswift @inksoakedparchment @sweetcolorfulies

[mfleutcher]

PJO Hogwarts au

Because I'm bored

Percy Jackson

His mom was a squib

His dad comes from rich and bigoted pureblood family, a part of sacred 28

His family didn't let him be with Sally so he wasn't, cause "it was the best for everyone"

Percy was raised by Sally in a muggle neighborhood but he knew he was a wizard

He attended a public muggle school before hogwarts, actually a few cause he was expelled few times due to "mysterious disasters"(accidental magic)

He knows who his dad is but never met him in person, has conflicted feelings about him

When he gets to hogwarts, he's a hastall

The hat wants to put him in slytherin, cause he's cunning and resourceful but he met some kids from slytherin on the train and they said bad things about he's mom so he doesn't want to go there

He asks the Hat to put him in Hufflepuff- that's where his mom wanted to be but the Hat disagrees- apparently he's not "hardworking and honest enough"(rude)

He ends up in Gryffindor, which he doesn't like at first, especially after he meets Clarisse- a violent Gryffindor 3rd year, but changes his mind when he meets Luke - a Gryffindor 7th year and the Head Boy, who becomes his mentor and older brother figure

Through Luke he meets annabeth, a 1st year slytherin, but they don't become friends at first, only after the end of the year, when they find out that Luke has been working for Dark Wizard this entire time and they bond over feeling betrayed.

Before that, he makes another friend. A few days in he sees a 1st year Hufflepuff being bullied by older kids and without thinking jumps in to help. The kid introduces himself as Grover and out of gratitude offers to be his loyal friend forever

At the end of 1st year Grover Percy and Annabeth solve a mystery together that leads them to find out about Luke and after that they become a trio

Percy often gets in trouble but not on purpose - he has zero tolerance for bullies and gets in fights at least 1 a week

McGonagall said he beated detention record in 1 month previously set by James Potter and Sirius Black in 1975

Okay maybe it is his fault when he gets caught in Forbidden Forest - he and Grover visit it regularly in search for rare Magical plants(for grover) and dangerous creatures( for both of them) - the rest of the school thinks they are kind of insane

He loves Magical creatures, even dangerous ones (especially horse shaped, dog shaped, and related to water), is friends with Hagrid and often he and Grover help him preparing classes

He even swimmed in the Lake and claims to be friends with the Giant Squid- no one knows if he's joking or not

That's partially why people are wary of him- they think he's a decent person, but a bit weird and unhinged

His favourite classes are CoMC and Potions - they remind him of cooking with his mom

He likes spells that are connected to nature and elements- they require less control and knowledge but more power and emotions

He's a good duelist due to his fast reflexes

He plays qudditch as a chaser and that's how he becomes less enemies and more frenemies with Clarisse, who is a qudditch captain

When his older he's not a Prefect but a lot of younger kids like him anyway and seek his advice - although his advices often involve breaking the rules

His patronus is a pegasus

Grover Underwood

He's actually a bit older than the rest- he's birthday is in October

He's a pureblood but not sacred 28

His parents are dead and he grew up with his uncle, who doesn't really care and just lets Grover do whatever( mister D)

He's a metamorphomagus but for a long time he can't control it when he's nervous he often accidentally grows little horns ( Percy calls him Goat men because of it)

That's why he wears a hat at all times( just in case) and also the reason why he is bullied

He knew Annabeth before Hogwarts, not very well, but they were kind of friends when they were kids but when Annabeth's other friend thalia died, she got distanced and by the time they got to hogwart they haven't talked for years

He seems to be scared of everything EXCEPT ACTUAL DANGEROUS CRETURES AND PLANTS

he keeps some illegal Magical plants in his bedroom (although it's really hard getting to his bed when he has carnivore/murderous/poisonus plants growing around his bed)

His favourite classes are CoMC and Herbology

He owns a pygmy puff and an owl

Had to replace his wand 3 times cause he chews on it when his nervous

Fights for creatures rights

Becomes a Prefect and is really good with kids

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Love Potion/Spells (2) Masterlist

part one

a memorable valentine's day (ao3) - blue_violets hermione/ron, sirius/remus, harry/ginny G, 3k

Summary: After fighting with Hermione at the Yule Ball two years ago, Ron wants to make the Valentine’s Day Dance perfect for her. Unfortunately, Fred & George accidentally added their own DNA to a batch of love potion sold at their shop in Hogsmeade. Everyone who unknowingly takes some of the potion falls in love with all the Weasleys. The evening of the dance, Ron, Bill and their siblings are ambushed by hordes of admirers.

Amortentia Tension (ao3) - Anonymous regulus/james G, 13k

Summary: Regulus, somehow, agrees to a bet with James Potter. He will drink a love potion (questionably acquired), and they'll see how long James can last with him being stupidly in love with him. It's only for a weekend—how hard can it be?

Bewitched (ao3) - StarlingFlight harry/ginny M, 90k

Summary: When Luna suggests, after Ginny suffers through the latest in a long line of comically bad dates, that the solution to all of her problems lies in brewing a love potion, she thinks it's all a big joke.

Obviously, magic isn't real. Luna's potion recipe is nothing more than a novelty, sold to tourists enamoured with the legends surrounding their historical hometown of Godric's Hollow.

Of course, Ginny really should've learned by now that her plans have a tendency to go awry. So it really shouldn't come as that much of a surprise to her when, the very next day, half the town seems to find her utterly...bewitching

The only person who appears to be immune to the enchantment she's accidentally cast, is the one person who she wishes saw her as something more than his best friend's little sister; typically, even the miracle of actual magic can't capture Harry Potter's interest, and now he's the only person who can help her fix this latest mess she's created...

Butterbeer Confessions (ao3) - EscapeInMyBookshelf theodore/ginny M, 2k

Summary: The British and Irish Quidditch league is having their annual Christmas party at the Malfoy Manor. Theodore Nott spikes a Butterbeer intending to give to Draco Malfoy but his crush Ginny Weasley drinks it instead.

Falling like a Snowflake (ao3) - GhostIsReading marcus/harry T, 2k

Summary: Marcus Flint gives Harry a box of chocolates unaware that they are laced with a potion.

Minty Water (ao3) - CandyCla scorpius/albus G, 3k

Summary: When Albus received a love potion from his Uncle Ron, he never intended to use it. He certainly never planned for his best friend to drink it, thinking it was just water. And he definitely hadn't anticipated that his best friend would act completely normally, unaffected by the love spell.

Muggle Matrimony (ao3) - Snitchesbecray hermione/ron G, 33k

Summary: Hermione and Ron are finally tying the knot—but, in true Hermione style, this wedding isn’t just about romance. Hermione is determined to make her big day a groundbreaking statement by holding a Muggle-friendly, magic-free ceremony in a Muggle church. Her goal? To show the Ministry that wizard and Muggle worlds can truly blend, all while setting herself up for a big promotion.

But transforming a wedding into a statement on systematic change proves to be a spellbinding challenge. With tensions running high, Ron feeling uneasy about getting married so young, Fleur ready to pop with a new Weasley any minute, and a certain ex eager to win Hermione back, this ceremony may need more than just a little magic to succeed. Will Hermione’s bold vision be the start of a new era—or will her magical wedding day dreams end in a spectacular disaster?

Potions and Paradoxes (ao3) - yourstruly_quin hermione/draco T, 3k

Summary: “Granger,” he said.

She looked up from her textbook. “What is it?”

“I think we made a mistake,” he said, words quick and clipped.

She set her quill down and scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Malfoy. Everything is going perfect. Look at the potion— it’s textbook.”

He scowled, panic bubbling in his chest. “Then why does it smell like—“ he cut himself off abruptly.

“Why does it smell like what?” She frowned.

“Nothing,” he snapped. The scent continued to get stronger, wrapping around him and taunting him. Coffee, parchment, cinnamon. It was undeniably Granger.

take a sip of my secret potion (ao3) - neozeka draco/harry T, 981

Summary: Harry gets doused with a potion meant to make him fall in love with the first person he sees

naturally, it's Draco

The Black Dog (ao3) - amariss1 sirius/remus T, 57k

Summary: "Well, I think it's time to tell you all, me and Remus are together!"

Sirius Black was starting to have trouble breathing as the Order members and even his godson congratulated Tonks and Remus. The things that had changed in 14 years kept coming back to haunt him.

"But she's too young to know this song"

There’s A Thin Line Between Love and Obsession (ao3) - dittanyanddreams hermione/draco E, 7k

Summary: Draco has an unhealthy obsession with a certain mudblood witch, one that he has harboured secretly for longer than he would ever care to admit. But, what happens when obsessive thoughts lead to action?

to thine own self (ao3) - into_the_past pandora/lily N/R, 4k

Summary: Severus Snape will stop at nothing to gain Lily Evan's attention. (Love potion gone awry)

[healrod]

Title: Beleaguered Secretary Laurinaitis

Chapter: Chapter 1 - Excelsior

Pairing: LietPol

Characters: Lithuania, Poland, Latvia, Estonia; minor appearances from America and Prussia

Summary:

Ex-wizarding prodigy Toris Laurinaitis just wants to be okay with living a normal life. After suffering a career-ending breakdown during his city’s annual Wizarding Tournament, he’s forced himself to forget the life he could have lived by starting a new one as a secretary for the Department of Magical Emergencies – a glorified paper-pusher position where he sorts through mail all day. It’s not a bad job for a burnout who lost his confidence to use magic… or so he convinces himself. But Toris’s normal life explodes when he starts receiving hate mail. A week after he starts his new job, anonymous wizards bombard the Department with magical weaponized letters that, quite literally, bite Toris in the ass. The worst part? They’re not even meant for him. They’re all addressed to Felix Łukasiewicz, a wizard criminal mastermind who might not even exist. Toris tries to bear it for the sake of his job – until the receives the most violent letter yet. With a new life to live and a brother to put through college, Toris realizes he can't afford to deal with any of this fanged hate mail nonsense. So he'll do what he's always done: he'll handle everything. He'll track down Łukasiewicz himself.

___

After many years of taking break from fic, I've returned with a multi-chapter LietPol fic!! I'm so excited to write about these silly little guys again, nyehehehe :D

Quick Disclaimer #1: I'm focusing on writing fanfiction for fun again, so I'll be uploading chapters with minimal editing. Characters will also deviate slightly from canon (Latvia and Estonia in particular). I welcome constructive criticism, but please keep those two things in mind if you constructively review this fic!

Quick Disclaimer #2: Because I'm writing this fanfic for fun, uploads will be sporadic.

In addition to linking to the fic on AO3, I'll also upload it to Tumblr. So if you're interested, click the read more to read Chapter 1!!

Thank you so much for reading! (^w^)

As the winged envelope chased him through the office, using its gaping maw to snap at his head and spit fire balls at his face, Toris couldn’t help but scream.

“What did I do to deserve this?!”

The thing was spitting foam and guts out of its fanged mouth. Instinctively, he reached into his right pocket for his wand, but it was empty — as it had been for the last year.

It was completely ridiculous. He wasn’t supposed to even need to carry a wand at this job. His former coach had promised him a desk job where he could interact with magic without having to use it. And it had been that way in the beginning. For a solid two weeks, Toris had checked into the glass building, given his daily morning report to Mr. Alfred, and sat down for the rest of the day to catalogue magical incidents. It was the best possible job for someone like him, who couldn’t do much of any magic anymore. But then, on the third Monday of his new job, the first letter came in—

And everything became a disaster.

Smoke rose from the burning papers on Toris’s desk. Vargas and Williams had trampled over their cubicles in their rush to get out, and Toris had to jump over their broken chairs to sprint to the door at the front of the room. The letter was so close that he could feel its hot breath on the nape of his neck.

“Go away! I’m not the person you’re looking for!” he yelled. But his high, panicked voice only made the letter flap faster. Toris had dealt with cursed letters before, but this one was particularly vicious. It wouldn’t stop until it had torn Toris limb from limb.

“Laurinaitis! Stand back!”

Toris turned to the front. Jones shuddered in the doorway. With a flourish, he unsheathed his wand and aimed it at the letter. The tip of the wand glowed pale red with charging fire magic.

Toris’s eyes widened.

“No! It feeds on fire!”

“What?! Shit!” Jones yelled.

He jerked his wand back to try to withdraw the magic. But it was too late. The glowing light pulsated and burst forward — and a stream of white-hot fire magic barreled towards Toris’s face.

Behind him, the letter screeched in delight. It flew ahead of him and opened its maw wide to ingest the flame magic. It was impossible for Jones to cast another spell now. Ingesting the fire magic would give the letter the power to blow up the whole building if it wanted. If Toris still could, he would have thrown up one of his shields. But he had no other choice. He sucked in a deep breath.

And then he yanked the letter back, pressed its fanged mouth to his ass, and ducked – just in time  to barrel under the blazing stream of Jones’s fire magic.

The magic exploded into the wall, sending bricks and plaster flying everywhere.

On the floor, Toris coughed violently. Just like old times.

As expected, the letter had also bit into his ass – hard.

“Agh!” he hissed. 

It was terrible, but not the worst pain he’d ever felt – what was worse was the ringing in his ears and the bruising on his arms from sliding on the carpet. But at least he could feel everything, which meant that he was alive. Toris propped himself up on his side. With his left hand, he wrenched the letter off his ass, held it up, and gripped it by its writhing wings so it couldn’t move.

“Look, you — agh! Look!” Gods, these magical objects were stubborn! Even while incapacitated, the letter screeched and spat small fireballs at his shirt. Toris was so exasperated that he just gripped it tighter. “Listen! I’m not him! I’m not the person you’re looking for! That’s not his blood, see?! Go on! Taste it!”

The letter’s forked tongue slopped some of his blood into its mouth. It paused to swallow.

“See? I’m not him. So leave me alone. Go home!”

The letter shuddered.

Then, with a gag, it vomited blood and mouse guts and charred paper scraps all over Toris’s hands.

Agh.

Toris had just accepted that there were animal guts all over his formerly clean hands when the letter moved again. It chirped happily… then nestled right into the curve of his hand.

In one go, he’d lost blood, flesh, and new pants… to a fanged letter that was now mewing into his skin like a housecat.

Toris groaned. He slumped against the floor.

Always something new at this job.

“You have to go home now,” Toris pleaded, but the letter just chirped again.

“Laurinaitis!”

Toris looked up. Jones ran up to him, wand at the ready.

“No, no – it’s okay, it’s okay!” Toris said. “It’s not – I don’t know what it’s doing, but it’s not killing me.”

Panting, Jones finally slowed to a stop in front of him. His boss squinted at the letter – and blanched. Toris had never seen someone look so terrified of a cursed letter in all his life, and honestly, he was glad. Only unlucky people were used to mean tricks like this.

“What the hell – is that another cursed letter?” Jones asked. His voice wavered. Even after all his work in the Department, Toris knew that Jones had a naturally weak stomach when it came to anything creepy, so he tried to shield the letter.

“Yes, sir,” Toris said. “It—”

“Is it from that freaking criminal guy?”

“Yes, sir. I sat down—”

“God, are you okay?”

Jones was pale. To anyone else, he would have looked dazed – but Toris watched Jones swallow, then square his shoulders. All the while, his boss was glancing between the blood on his pants and the letter’s mewling mouth. He wasn’t dazed. He was righteous.

“I’m fine, sir,” Toris said. “It just – bit me. That’s all.”

“Bit you? God!” Jones was fuming. “This guy is crazy. Absolutely crazy. I’m sorry, Laurinaitis, this is just – crazy.”

“This is the job I signed up for, sir,” Toris said.

“Yeah, but this isn’t the job that you deserve. It’s not the job that any of us deserve. Fuckin’ Artie,” Jones spat. Toris sighed. At least Jones had a conscience. But before he could say anything, Jones held up his wand. “I’m calling you a medic. They’re gonna be here soon, so just stay put, okay?”

“Thank you,” Toris said weakly.

“I’ll stay here with you until they get here. God, at least we’re competent –”

On the other side of the office, a pipe burst.

Jones groaned.

“Always something new,” he muttered. “Hold on, stay here, Laurinaitis. And keep that thing with you. Artie’s gonna have to give us our damn funding when he sees whatever the hell that is.”

It was a good thing that Jones wandered away when he did, because Toris didn’t have the energy to talk; he slumped back down to the floor immediately, buried his face in the charred carpet.

All around him, his colleagues’ tables burned to smithereens. He doubted he would see Williams again – the boy had been missing more and more days ever since the first letter came in. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Department only had three employees, Toris was sure that Jones would have let him go a long time ago. Vargas would come back because he loved the stress – the running from disasters on one day and fixing them on another.

And Toris?

He was only there because he was too broken to do anything else besides low-level magic work. He wasn’t a hero like Jones. He was just trying to carve out a decent life for himself. If that really existed.

For what seemed like the nine billionth time in the past three months, Toris Laurinaitis laid on the office floor with his broken body and tried to live. He breathed. In and out. And, like always, his eyes went to the upper left-hand part of the address, where that one name continued to taunt him.

Gods.

He really was tired of Felix Łukasiewicz.

___

That night, when he finally limped back to his apartment, Toris stood in front of the door. And for a moment, he just listened.

He shivered in the dimly lit hallway, which smelled like old spices and musty wall. He should’ve walked inside already. But it was nice to have a moment, just one moment, where all he had to do was breathe. He breathed in deeply.

No hurried steps came from inside the apartment – no clinking glasses, no scratching pens. Oskars was probably writing poetry in his room. Thank God for that. All night, Toris worried about how he would hide this injury from this brother. The last time he came home with an injury like this, Oskars sat all night by his bedside to ask questions – first about the Tournament, and then about the injury itself. How did the medic apply the gauze? Does your hand hurt? Did Beilschmidt put up a good fight?

Toris did his best to answer each question dddddddddin kind. Tight across my arm. Yes. The best I’ve ever seen him give. But then Oskars leaned forward and asked, with his eyes round like bowls, Can you still use magic?, and Toris’s breath caught in the soft pit of his throat. And all his words seemed down to die.

No, Toris said.

What? Why? Is it—

No, Toris said, and he turned away. No, I can’t. It’s late, now. You should go to sleep.

I’m s—

Just leave me be. Go to sleep.

And the next morning, Oskars only asked about how the weather felt that day.

It wasn’t malicious. Toris knew that for a fact. Oskars had always just wanted to understand people with his questions. It was why he was such a good poet. But it was better, Toris realized, to stop his brother from getting any strange flights of idea in his head. It was better if he just went straight to his bedroom to sleep off the pain. God knows he needed it, especially when he had to be back at work next week.

The apartment was still. Oskars’ shoes lay slightly askew on the side of the hall; his maroon hoodie was thrown on the first rung of the coat rack, covering the yellow scarf Eduard had paid Toris to repair last week. Other than that, the kitchen and the living room were completely empty. Darkness enveloped him as he closed the door. He locked the doorknob and the door chain, and afterwards he sighed, softly. (He really needed to get Oskars into the habit of locking the door chain when he came back.) If Oskars was in his room, he had probably already scrounged up dinner for himself – and Toris could get away with not cooking up something, just for one night. Slowly, he walked toward his bedroom.

“Toris!”

“Ah?!”

“Hi,” Oskars said. He stepped out of his room. “Welcome home.”

Oskars scratched his head. Harrowing as it was to see him, Toris was still glad. “Jeez, Oska, you took me by surprise… I thought you were writing?”

“I mean, I was, but I just came out to get another snack.”

“Ah. What are you eating?”

Oskars scrounged in his pocket, then lifted his hand. “Pickles.”

Toris squinted. Oskars was holding a sandwich bag stuffed with whole dill pickles.

“What… pickles? Just plain pickles?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re not eating them with anything?”

“Nope.”

Oskars had always loved eating pickles in burgers, but Toris had never seen him eat pickles just plain. “My God, those are salty… but they’re better than potato chips, I suppose,” he said with a sigh.

“That’s why you wash them down with the drink of champions,” Oskars said, and held up a bottle of vodka with his other hand.

Toris’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, no, no, absolutely not,” he said.

“What? Want me to save you some?”

“No! I don’t want you to drink that at all!”

“But you like this combo, right?” Oskars asked.

“Pickles and vodka?! Never in my life!”

“No, vodka and anything salty,” Oskars clarified.

Toris rubbed his temples. Trust Oskars to remember something he tried so hard to forget. “I liked it, yes, but it wasn’t good for me, and it’s not good for you,” he said. Huffing, he dropped his work bag to the floor and turned to switch on the kitchen lights. Even if his leg still hurt, he was not going to let his brother descend the path to alcoholism. “You’re too smart for that.”

“So why’d you like it?”

Toris moved in front of the kitchen counters. How could he explain that stressful time where he drank in between competitions without sounding completely unhinged? There was no way he could, really… so he just shook his head. “It’s more for the effect than the taste,” he said finally. “Anyways. If you want a real meal, there are pierogi and chicken thighs in the fridge.”

Oskars was quiet for a moment.

“I wanna eat pierogi,” he said finally

“Good,” Toris said. He sighed. “It’s about time we got some real nutrients in you.”

And then, instinctively, he started pulling out the equipment – the pans, the bowls, the utensils, the bag of dumplings – and setting them on the counter. There went his plan of sleeping early. But at least he could spend more time with Oskars. They hadn’t seen each other that much lately, if he thought about it. With Oskars at university and him at work in the Department and the library, it was hard to carve out time for an actual conversation.

“What was the last real meal you ate, Oska?” Toris asked. He set a pan on their coil stove, then turned the heat to medium.

Behind him, Toris heard Oskars settle down into one of the wooden chairs around their kitchen table. “Let’s see…. Oh. Emil and I split chicken tenders for lunch today.”

“Split?!”

“I’m broke, Toris.”

“My God…”

“Actually, the pickles were an improvement over yesterday, because yesterday, we had to borrow instant noodles from Leon.”

“Ah… that’s good thinking,” Toris said at last. He was hit by a swirl of memories from his own university days, which weren’t so far away – memories of the big trays of frozen cepelinai he used to share with Eduard during the winter months. In those months, security deposits and health insurance and other start of the year expenses drained their student loan money instantly.

“Isn’t it?” Oskars sighed. “But I wish we didn’t have to do it. I wish I just have it all together already. Like, you were younger than I am now when you started competing, and you were great. But I don’t even know what I want to do next semester.”

The pan was getting hot. Toris added oil, then rotated the pan so it would coat the surface evenly.

“You’ll get there if you just keep at it. I know you will.”

As Toris warmed their pierogi in the pan, the rich smell of buttered potatoes and soft dough blanketed the kitchen. It only took him a few minutes to set everything up. He was so used to putting out literal fires at work that setting out two plates and silverware was actually relaxing in comparison. But the best part was when Oskars took a pierogi, bit into it, and smiled.

“Do they taste good?” Toris asked.

“Yummy. Mm… how do you get them so crispy but soft?”

“Just watch the heat. I’ll show you later, once I finish getting everything sorted.”

“After work tomorrow?” Oskars asked.

Toris hesitated. For a moment, he just watched Oskars scarf down pierogi after pierogi. There was still no way that he could tell his brother about the injury. Well, there was another thing for him to do – find some place to work outside of the office while he healed… “Yes, if you’re not busy with schoolwork,” he said.

Oskars grumbled. “I have so many essays to work on tomorrow that I feel like my brain is gonna burst…”

“So finish them, and we’ll cook after.”

“That’s gonna take forever.”

“You’re only in university for a short time; you have to make the most of it.” Here, Toris took a bite of pierogi, then swallowed. “But I’m always here.”

“I mean, not really,” Oskars said glumly.

Toris paused.

“You’re going to be busy at work again, right?” Oskars asked. He opened his mouth to say more, to launch into one of the unknowingly blunt assessments of his entire personality—

And then tapping came at the door.

Not a knock – but tapping. Repeated, fluttering, and soft-sounding tapping, like the scratchy thump of the broom their mother used to use to clean the floor in the old house. Toris shared a glance with Oskars.

“Is that Ed?” Oskars asked, in a lower voice this time.

Toris shook his head. He hadn’t seen Eduard in at least three weeks.

“Stay here. I’ll get it,” Toris mouthed.

Instinctively, he reached for his wand. It wasn’t there. He pulled out his pepper spray instead, and he made his way to the door, where the tapping came more and more insistently. And with more force.

Toris looked out the peephole.

There was no one standing at eye level.

He stepped back. Stilled.

And then –

A brown mass threw itself into the peephole.

It hit the glass with the softest thud Toris had ever heard. And another. And another. It wasn’t a human, nor an animal, nor any kind of magic. In fact, when Toris leaned forward to squint through the peephole, he saw… that it wasn’t even living.

When he realized what it was, a jolt went through his entire body. Flabbergasted, Toris unlocked the knob. Then, with the door chain still in place, he cracked the door open halfway.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered in exasperation.

And in response –

The letter that had nearly bitten his ass off chirped a lovely tune and smiled.

___

Toris had just barely shut the door when Oskars started asking questions.

“Who is it? Why are they singing? Are they looking for money?”

For once in his life, Toris didn’t answer all of them. “It’s just business,” he said, shaking his head. And he crossed his arms without saying a word until Oskars pouted and tactically retreated to his room. “But I want to know who it is when you get back from work tomorrow,” Oskars said before closing the door.

When Toris opened the living room door again, the fanged and blood-spackled letter fluttered straight into his arms. It meowed. Purred gently into his arms. Toris ushered it into his workbag, where it nestled in between his work files and his blood-stained former pants.

The next day, he left for work even earlier than usual to make an uninterrupted beeline for Jones’s office. It was unlikely that Jones would have the time to talk to him after the fiasco that happened yesterday. Still, he hoped – even prayed – that the stars would align for once to just give him a break.

But it was just as expected. After twenty minutes, when Jones finally emerged from his cavernous office, he was shuddering with caffeine.

“Huh? The letter?” Jones said. “I sent it over to Artie. His guys grabbed it yesterday. Speaking of guys, you’re not gonna believe this shit – those sons-of-bitches won’t expedite our funding request. Can you believe it? Unbe-fucking-leviable. That damn thing just about mauled you to death!” Jones’s eyes burned with a fervent desire for justice. Before Toris could say anything, Jones slapped him on the shoulders and started walking them towards the plaster-covered coffee station. “Ooh, they’re gonna wish they listened to us the first time when I’m done with them! Here’s what we’re gonna say: Dear Artie, you absolute massive asswad…”

And for the rest of the working day, Toris crafted the most diplomatic insults possible for Arthur Kirkland, swept up rubble, and compartmentalized his last remaining hope for bureaucracy into a very small cardboard box in his heart.

That was how he found himself sitting across Eduard’s desk.

Despite living in an apartment on a main city street, Eduard’s office was quiet. Quaint. His desk was made of thin birch wood and only covered with his white Mac desktop. It was the last place that a blood-thirsty, blood-covered letter should be in, but that’s exactly where Eduard decided it needed to be.

Behind the desk, Eduard leaned forward in his birch wood chair. He was petting the letter with his ring finger. The letter purred as it snuggled into a pile of white muslin. Occasionally, it extended its red tongue to lick at Eduard’s finger, but for the most part, it sat quietly while Eduard observed it.

“Well… it’s a well-behaved cursed letter, I’ll give it that,” Eduard said.

Toris exhaled. “You should ask it about the fireballs.”

Eduard’s eyes widened. “Fireballs?” he asked.

Toris nodded.

Eduard raised an eyebrow. Turning back to the letter, he gently patted it with three fingers.

“That can’t be true, can it?” he asked softly. “Did you shoot Toris with fireballs, you little dragon you?”

In response, the letter mewed.

Eduard chuckled. “You’re a courageous little creature,” he murmured.

He gave it a small, generous smile. He opened a drawer beneath his desk and lifted out a golden birdcage with a key, which he set next to the letter. “Prepared especially for you,” he said.

The letter sat up. It floated into the birdcage, peering around it curiously. And once it settled into the muslin that blanketed the bottom, Eduard locked the cage. A pale blue glow that smelled faintly of lavender surrounded it – and suddenly, the letter stilled… and began to snore.

Toris gaped at the cage. Eduard winked at him, then once again lowered the birdcage into the same drawer.

“And you are smart to have neutralized it,” Eduard said, finally fully turning towards Toris. “Had it gone unchecked, it would have burnt off both your legs and your stomach.”

Toris blanched.

“Legs and stomach?”

“Yes. Your wizarding correspondents have gotten their hands on a new breed of cursed letter. It mixes the large teeth of the old breeds with the potent fire magic of the new ones. I identified it by looking at the glands at the back of its throat – they’re large. Quite knotty. So, again – you’re smart to have neutralized it.”

Toris sank back into Eduard’s chair.

“That’s it,” he said. “I need your help tracking this person down, Ed. I can’t… There’s no way I can deal with this anymore.”

“And you know me – I’m more than happy to help you find them.” Eduard pushed up his glasses with his finger. He leaned forward, focusing all his attention on Toris.

Toris sighed. He felt a little better after hearing that Eduard was on his side – but then again, Eduard always was. Even after 10 years of competing together in tournaments, Eduard had never let him down. “Thank you. I just can’t have this happening at work anymore.”

“Of course.”

“Not with Oskars in school.”

Eduard paused. “And with you working, too,” he added mildly.

Toris nodded. “Yes, that, too,” he said. “It’s too, ah… distracting. Every week, a new cursed letter attacks me, and I don’t know who they’re from. All I know is that they’re addressed to someone named Felix Łukasiewicz.”

“Hm.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the first name, I’m going to assume they’re a man. Or they’re posing as one, at the very least.”

“I think that’s true, because the only letter I’ve read called him ‘the most hated man in the city’ and ‘a blight upon all of humankind’”.

“These wizards certainly are eloquent,” Eduard hummed. Tapping his fingers on his desk, he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Are there any records of him working at the Department?”

“No, not at all. But that’s not the strange part. There are no public records of him even living in the city, either.”

“Public records,” Eduard mused.

“Yes, public records. Which is why, ah…”

Toris gestured at Eduard. Even after all these years, Toris still couldn’t say Eduard’s nighttime job out loud.

Which is why Eduard did him the dignity of saying it for him. “Understood. I’ll start my investigation as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Ed.”

Eduard nodded. “Do you have any of the other letters?”

“No. I have to destroy them before they can kill me.”

At this, Eduard stifled a chuckle.

“What? What was funny there?”

“It’s an absurd situation, that’s all.”

“Ahh… we’ve been in too many of them,” Toris sighed.

“Well, I’ll make this the last.”

Eduard smiled at him, small but genuine, and it was then that Toris once again realized how lucky he was to be friends with Eduard von Bock. There was no one else who he trusted more. Already, Eduard was opening his desk drawer; he pulled out manila files and a rolodex, and once he had laid them all neatly out on his table, he pulled out a pair of googles, too. When they still competed in tournaments, Eduard always wore those goggles into every fight. They helped him deal with everything.

It was time to go. Once Eduard put his goggles on, no one could distract him from his work.

“Thanks again, Ed,” Toris said. He stood up and grabbed his green jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll leave you to your work, then?”

“Oh – you’re leaving already?” Eduard asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“I don’t want to distract you from your work. And I have to get back home, too – Oskars asked me to show him how to make dumplings.”

“Understood. Well, could I at least offer you some potato salad to take back? Or some coffee?”

“Ah, not tonight. But thank you.”

Toris finished zipping up his jacket. At that, Eduard nodded. “Well, maybe another time. Please send Oskars my greetings, too.”

“I will. I’ll see you later, Ed.”

“Goodnight.”

Toris quietly shut the door to Eduard’s office. The moment it shut, the sounds of rustling papers filled the hallway. Eduard was already hard at work. And as Toris walked out of Eduard’s apartment and into the night, he decided that he would work hard, too.

For the sake of his job and for the sake of the people he loved, Toris made up his mind:

He was going to track down Felix Łukasiewicz.

[thewingedbaron]

BG3 Fic Feb Day Four!

Day Four: Camp Chores

By the fourth day together, camp was beginning to run smoothly. Wyll set a watch every day, ensuring that none of the goblin’s scouting parties accidentally found their way into camp. Karlach was all too happy to assist with keeping watch, though privately she spent more time caring for her teddy bear, Clyde, than keeping an eye out for trouble. As she put it, when trouble found them, she would be ready. 

Gale had settled in quickly as the camp’s cook. After the disaster of Shadowheart’s half hearted attempt on the first night, the wizard of waterdeep produced an apron from his tent, the rest of the party was still unsure as to where exactly it had come from, and set about preparing whatever Alyss managed to catch out in the surroundings woods. Thankfully, Alyss was almost as good at hunting animals as she was bounties, so more often than not there was plenty to go around. 

For her part, Shadowheart busied herself about the camp setting up new barriers of thistle and heavy bush. Alyss had shown her how to rearrange the surrounding shrubs to help disguise the camp from outside view, and the cleric of shadows had taken to the skill almost immediately. She seemed to delight in finding new methods to hide them all from view. That, or she just enjoyed being close to the camp’s ranger leader, as Astarion claimed. It was hard to ignore the snuck glances, and occasional straight on staring that neither side seemed to notice. Astarion had started a betting pool on the second night. Currently, Wyll was winning. 

Lae’zel provided the background music to their little camp. She could often be found practicing strikes on a mock Illithid that she had created out of roots and branches. The dull thud, thud, thud, could be heard at all hours about the camp. Wyll had joined her a number of times, as well as Karlach. Both were apt students as Lae’zel explained the best ways to kill a ghaik quickly to avoid their psychic attacks. When she wasn’t practicing, Lae’zel was preparing. Mending armor, sharpening blades, Lae’zel was sure that she would be ready for whatever they met on the road. With a few sweet words, and the promise of a new dagger, she agreed to help with the camp’s weapons as well. Soon the grinding wheel could be heard near constantly, much to the chagrin of some of its other residents. 

Astartion, of course, prided himself on helping drink through the camp’s meager wine supply. He also carefully gathered gossip like a court spymaster sitting on a mountain of secrets. Alyss had given up asking him to help with camp chores, but perhaps that was for the better. He was a little too interested in her secrets, and she preferred to keep those under wraps. Even if it meant that Astarion was taken off dish rotation.

[reioka-reads]

Title: Iron Widow

Author: Xiran Jay Zhao

Status: Keep

Series Continue: Yes

Okay. So. I’m going to preface this by saying that this has some spoilers in it. It’s only been a year so I’m aware that some people might still be on the waiting list at their library for this NYT Best Seller lol.

Anyway, sometimes I take a peep at the negative reviews on books to see if it changes my perspective and this time they absolutely did not. A lot of the negative reviews on this book have the same talking points: It feels rushed/some parts feel shoehorned in. And I agree. But you know what? Zhao does too. I remember them making a post somewhere (I follow them on both Tumblr and TikTok so it could have been either one) explaining how they had to cut back parts because it was their debut novel and in the publishing industry, the companies don’t like those novels to exceed a certain amount. Zhao, also, was not satisfied with their novel as it was published. Knowing that, I felt like I could see the parts where they cut back to fit into those guidelines. I think, if they hadn’t had to cut back, it would have been an even better book than it is.

That being said, I thought this book was great. I actually caught Zhao on TikTok and that’s what led me to reading the book (they are very funny and clever). It was an interesting premise and I enjoyed it. It felt very… refreshing, somehow? I’m not sure that’s the word I want but you know, after the inundation of vampires/werewolves/wizard schools the past few years, it was a breath of fresh air. I especially loved that the one-sidedness of the love triangle lasted maybe about a minute before all of these bi disasters decided actually no let’s be a true triangle. Good for them.

Zetian was brutality in its purest form. I love that for her. But I also loved the parts where she was vulnerable—where she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of the men she loved. And how she refused to feel shame in front of others either. I also, for some reason, really like that she’s disabled? And it’s a focal point of the story, her constantly thinking about how she’s crippled and how it was supposed to make her desirable but all it did was make her life harder; how she’s constantly comparing her Lotus feet to the unmarred feet of her female peers and feeling envy and shame. It’s not a throwaway problem, it doesn’t get fixed, and I’m interested to see how it’s going to show up in the story in the future. I wish we could have seen Yizhi and Shimin fleshed out as much as she was, but the breadcrumbs that were dropped that I pieced together have me looking forward to maybe seeing more fleshing out in the sequel(s).

This story had so many twists and turns that I was constantly and genuinely shocked (delightfully so!) when they happened. I itched to get back to the book when I had to put it down; I wanted to know what happened next. I honestly didn’t expect the betrayal from the Black Tortoise and Shimin’s “death,” and I mourned with Zetian as soon as his qi reader hit zero. Then she actually found Qin Zheng and the yellow dragon! Piloted it herself!!! And then Shimin wasn’t dead and apparently the “gods” had saved him?! What the fuck!!!! And Yizhi simply killing his father with no remorse, no regrets. Qiu was probably the only person who figured out how Zetian truly ticked and he was so busy facing off with her that he didn’t even think his son could or would turn on him. My only beef is that Xiuying wasn’t alive to see Zetian crush her family to death, so that she could see that Zetian was stronger than her in every way.

I have more thoughts but I can’t really seem to articulate them, so I think I’ll leave this here. So bummed that the release date for Heavenly Tyrant has been pushed back, but I appreciate that Zhao is being transparent for their reasons. If pushing it back means a better story, I’m happy to wait.