#the next best thing was the tapestry btw

[cardinalmoroni]

Couldn't get the Pre-Raphaelite shirt so I got the next best thing :)

[training4theapocalypse]

A Nest of Vipers Ch2. (Cormac McLaggen x Original Female Character - Slytherin)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings / Tags: Smut, Secret Relationship

Summary: Una Montague discovers a fellow Slytherin is up to no good. Cormac McLaggen isn't sure what he's let himself in for.

A/N: Me? Giving members of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad a redemption arc? Never. Unless...

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 2: Struggle

The next day, Una Montague and Cormac McLaggen sat side-by-side in Transfiguration silently answering the essay questions that Professor McGonagall had written on the chalkboard. Which was a pity, thought Una, because at least practical lessons would have meant the rest of the class were distracted. Not that she was particularly interested in hearing anything Cormac McLaggen had to say but rather, she wanted him to continue whatever it was they had started at Slughorn’s dinner party.

When the bell rang, the classroom erupted in chatter but Una just shut her textbook and touched up her lipgloss. She was determined not to make the first move. She’d be damned if Cormac thought she was more interested in him than he was in her.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“So, what now?” asked Cormac.

Una pursed her lips thoughtfully in the mirror. She wasn’t sure exactly how they could meet up. The trouble with having best friends like Sabine and Meridith was that they were always around. And Cormac being in another house just made sneaking around even more difficult.

“Do you know somewhere we could go?” asked Una, putting her things into her book bag.

He grinned. A wide, stupid grin that showed off his perfect teeth and made dimples appear at the corners of his mouth.

“I actually meant what lesson do you have next?” Cormac laughed, seeing the horror-stricken expression on Una’s face.

“Arithmancy,” said Una quickly. “I mean free period. No wait, Arithmancy. Eugh!”

Mortified, she grabbed her bag and turned as fast as she could to leave. She felt a large hand grab her upper arm before she could walk any further.

“Wait, Una. I’m just - “

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed through gritted teeth, shrugging him off quickly before the other students could see. 

And before Cormac had the chance to say anything else, Una marched quickly out of the classroom and into the throng of students in the corridor, her cheeks burning. She felt humiliated. But what was more concerning was the fact that she couldn’t shrug off the feeling that she sort of - maybe - liked it. 

Una shook her head, feeling flustered as she made her way to the shortcut to Arithmancy. She was being ridiculous. Of course, she didn’t like Cormac humiliating her. She bit her lip, stamping that feeling down as hard as she could.

She was confused (which didn’t happen often when it came to boys). Normally they were simple creatures, easy for her to understand - even manipulate when she needed to. She had thought he was attracted to her when he touched her under the table at Slughorn’s dinner party. But now she supposed that he just liked purposefully trying to embarrass her. Especially when he didn’t kiss her in the corridor, choosing instead to squeeze her face and smear lipgloss on her chin.

That egotistical, arrogant piece of work. There was no way she was going to let Cormac McLaggen make a fool of her.

Una pulled back an old tapestry, revealing the hidden shortcut to find a crouched figure in the dark passageway, sobbing. Her heart sank sadly. She’d recognise those hunched shoulders anywhere.

“...Graham? Lumos.” Her wand illuminated the dark passageway and her brother looked up, wiping his tear-streaked face that looked almost ghostly pale in the wandlight.

Graham Montague breathed shaky, shallow breaths as Una approached him carefully. 

“The passageway... Stupid,” he said, shaking his head. 

“It’s not stupid,” said Una gently as she sank down on the wall opposite him.

Her brother had almost died last year. Someone - he couldn’t remember who - had shoved him into a broken vanishing cabinet on the castle’s first floor. All Una was able to find out was that they were a member of Harry Potter’s stupid club - Dumbledore’s Army. Una had flipped between plotting her revenge against the D.A. and being so worried she felt sick when he went missing for almost a month until he was finally discovered in a bathroom by his friend Draco Malfoy. 

It spread around the school like it was hilarious. “Did you hear Montague was found in the U-bend?”. But to Una, it was no joke. 

He was stuck in the magical void between a pair of vanishing cabinets for weeks, almost starving to death until by some incredible miracle he had managed to apparate - without so much as ever having taken an apparition lesson before - within the boundaries of Hogwarts. When Professor Snape rescued him, even he couldn’t understand how it was possible. 

Afterwards, Una spent every spare moment in the hospital wing visiting him, helping him drink a vivid blue potion from Madam Pomfrey. Their parents, of course, had tried to take him to St. Mungo’s but Graham was insistent on sitting his exams so stayed at Hogwarts. 

After the entire ordeal, all Graham had to show for it was three O.W.L.s and a crippling fear of tight, dark spaces. And all Una had was a bitter taste in her mouth that she and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad had never found out who did it. 

“I just need a minute. Til the corridor clears,” said Graham, resting his head against the wall.

“I’ll wait,” said Una.

“Aren’t you going to your next lesson?”

“I’ll be late,” said Una with a small shrug. “Where are you friends?”

“I ditched them. Draco wouldn’t stop pestering me about the vanishing cabinet so I ducked in here and then…” he trailed off but Una pursed her lips.

“Why does he care so much about the cabinet?”

Graham hesitated. 

“Graham - tell me.”

“He says he’s got a job to do. From the Dark Lord.”

Una gave him a serious look. “Graham…”

“He saved my life, Unes.”

“You don’t owe him anything. Don’t get tied up in whatever he’s up to.”

Graham sighed. “I already told him everything I knew last year. Not that I can remember much… I don’t really want to.”

Una and Graham sat quietly for a long time as the footsteps in the corridor outside became less and less frequent until they couldn’t hear any more.

“We should go - I’m good, I’m good,” he stressed when Una opened her mouth to argue. “I need out of here.” 

“If you’re sure.”

Una got to her feet and opened the tapestry leading to the next corridor and extinguished her wand when light flooded the passageway. She held it open as Graham climbed out. 

He took a deep breath in the fresh air of the corridor. Una looked up at him. It was hard to believe her little brother, this big, burly Quidditch Captain could have ever been trapped in a cabinet, never mind turn to a crumbling mess when faced with a dark passageway.

She gave him a quick squeeze around his shoulders.

“Una,” he groaned. “Get off me.”

“Alright, alright.” She resisted the urge to hold on tight and never let go. “I just worry about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Just no more shortcuts, alright?”

“I won’t.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and they departed in opposite directions. She just hoped Professor Vector wouldn’t dock too many points from Slytherin for her lateness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cormac and Eddie sat in the library a few evenings later comparing Ancient Runes notes.

“Nah mate, you’ve translated that one wrong. It’s Umma, not Una,”

“I didn’t write that, did I?,” said Cormac, pulling his parchment back towards him and looking at those three little letters. Una. “No, yeah, you’re right. Dunno how I managed that one.”

“Still thinking about Slughorn’s party then?” Eddie grinned at him.

“What do you mean by that?” bristled Cormac.

“Steady on,” said Eddie, taken aback by his defensive tone. “Just meant that you were sat next to her, didn’t I?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“Is there something going on there, then?”

“Nah. Nah, definitely not.”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

Cormac hesitated. Eddie Carmichael was a Ravenclaw and Ravenclaws didn’t have the same anti-Slytherin sentiment that his other friends in Gryffindor did. He trusted Eddie more than he trusted the Gryffindors to be objective. Plus he was Head Boy. If any of his friends knew anything about the Head Girl, it would be him.

“I mean, she’s fit, right?” asked Cormac, scoring his quill back and forth over the word Una, determinedly ridding it from his parchment.

Eddie let out a long exhale. “Psht, yeah. The three of them are. But she’s genuinely fucking awful.”

He wasn’t expecting that. 

“You don’t think it’s just Sabine?”

“Nah,” said Eddie darkly. “Sabine gets the bad rap because she’s the loudest. Always in detention, that kind of thing. But I think that’s what makes Una more dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Bit dramatic, Ed.”

“Forgetting about Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad last year, are you?”

This shut Cormac up. He did forget that Una was one of Umbridge’s flying monkeys last year. He and Eddie, along with the rest of the D.A. had ended up in detention for weeks after the Inquisitorial Squad had apprehended them.

“And this year, Christ, I barely open my mouth when we’re doing the Prefect meetings. She loves bossing them about, dictating the corridor patrols. I mean, I’m not complaining - less work for me, innit? But still. I think she knows how to latch herself on to people with a bit of power and now she has a bit of her own, well, it’s the only time I’ve seen her smile.”

Cormac looked up from his parchment, brows knitted together. He’d seen Una laugh and smile in Transfiguration. And as for latching herself onto people in power…

“I’m not sure she’s like that. She didn’t even want to go to Slughorn’s thing.”

Eddie shrugs. “She probably just wants Slughorn to think she’s too important to be there. Make him more interested.”

Make him more interested. By pretending she wasn’t. Maybe Eddie was on to something.

“How did she even end up as Head Girl anyway? I mean, before this year, the only time I saw her in class was when she was getting told off for whispering with the Vipers.”

“That’s the thing. I think she likes being under-estimated. Have you ever seen her raise a hand in lessons? Or even study in the library? Then she shows up in sixth year with nine outstanding O.W.L.s. Just coasted it.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” grinned Cormac.

Eddie raises his arms in exasperation. “Where are we now? And you can check your own bloody Ancient Runes homework then.”

Eddie tossed his book at his head but Cormac reacted quickly and caught it.

“Alright, alright! Just winding you up,” laughed Cormac.

“Shh!” came an irate voice from the librarian’s desk. Cormac turned around in his seat to see Madam Pince glowering at them furiously.

Cormac hastily resumed his homework but Eddie kept his eyes up, looking behind Cormac’s shoulder.

“So much for never coming to the library,” he murmured. “Keep edgy.”

Cormac looked again discreetly. Sure enough, as if summoned by their discussion, the Vipers had slithered their way into the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It stinks of old books in here,” pouted Meredith when Sabine had chosen their table. 

“Well someone didn’t want us to sit in the common room tonight,” said Sabine sharply.

“I told you I’d explain,” whispered Una, sitting down and looking around to see if anyone was within earshot. With a jolt, she saw Cormac McLaggen and Eddie Carmichael several desks away.

“Well? Go on then,” demanded Sabine loudly, causing the two boys to look over.

“Sab,” Una hushed, glaring at Eddie and Cormac until they averted their gaze. “There are more important things than our usual seats... Like what exactly has Blaise told you about Draco Malfoy?”

“Malfoy? Nothing, why?”

“It’s for good reason. First of all, his dad’s in Azkaban for being a Death Eater -”

“We know that already,” huffs Meredith. 

“Let me finish. I’m just saying his family is dangerous. And apparently, he’s been bragging about being given a job to do at Hogwarts by The Dark Lord.”

“When did you hear that?”

Una didn’t answer. She trusted Sabine and Meredith but she wanted to protect her brother more.

“What kind of job?” Sabine looked sceptically interested. “What’s a sixteen-year-old going to do for him?”

“That’s the bit I’ve not worked out yet. But what I know for sure is that Malfoy is unreliable, inexperienced and he’ll probably need help. He doesn’t come to Prefect meetings anymore - Carmichael’s useless so I’ve got my work cut out for me trying to organise cover for Malfoy’s corridor patrols. So whatever it is he’s doing, I don’t think he’s doing it very well.”

“What’s that got to do with us?”

“I just think,” said Una quietly. “I think we need to keep an eye on the people we care about spending any time near him. I’m convinced he’s roped more people into helping him with this job.”

“Your brothers?” asked Meredith looking cautiously between Una and Sabine.

“As if either of them would help him with that,” scoffed Sabine.

“They need to be careful,” Una pressed on.

“If I find out he’s getting mixed up in this pure-blood supremacy nonsense I’m going to kill him.”

Una, Sabine and Meredith looked at each other seriously. Una extended her pinky across the table and Sabine and Meredith linked it.

“If we can’t keep Graham and Blaise away from this - we do what we do best.”

“Come hell or high water,” starts Sabine.

“Through thick and thin,” adds Meredith.

“For snakes don’t drown,” says Una.

“They know to swim,” they finish together.

This was their ritual. What had started off as a silly little chant they’d made up in first year was now a solemn promise. Of course, these days they’d ditched the accompanying dance routine borne from jumping on the dormitory beds as eleven-year-olds but the words remained. An oath to protect one another whatever the cost. 

If one of them stuck their pinky out, the others knew it was deadly serious. No more questions, no more bickering. Just mutual, unwavering trust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cormac and Eddie exchanged baffled looks.

“See! Look, they’re doing Dark Magic,” whispered Eddie.

“Maybe they’re in a thruple,” suggested Cormac, watching the Vipers unhook their fingers and cease their hushed murmuring.

“Nah, mate. I told you. Dangerous.”

Cormac wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was wearing Slytherin-tinted spectacles but that didn’t look like Dark Magic to him.

They returned their attention to their homework again but when a pair of heeled shoes clicked past their table Cormac lifted his eyes up slowly. Una had wandered off towards the bookshelves at the back of the library. Alone. This was it.

Cormac waited a few moments and pushed his chair back.

“Mate, don’t…” said Eddie warningly.

Cormac grinned. “I’m doing it.”

Eddie dragged his hand down his face as Cormac vacated his seat. “Oh, you great big bloody idiot.” Cormac clapped his shoulder and meandered in the direction Una went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Una, stood on her tiptoes trying to reach a book on a high shelf. Where was a ladder when you needed one? She looked left and right, groaning when she saw Cormac McLaggen striding towards her.

“You can conjure birds but can’t do a simple summoning charm?” he asked, grabbing the book she was brushing with her fingertips. He was so tall he could do it with annoying ease.

She eyed him suspiciously as he held it out to her, expecting him to pull it out of her reach again like he did with her mirror.

“I left my wand at the table.” She took the book tentatively. “Excuse me,” she said, refusing to look at him as she made to leave.

He stuck his arm out against the bookcase to stop her. She scoffed and tried to go around him the other way but he rested his forearm on the shelf, boxing her in. He was close. Much too close. His aftershave overpowered her senses, the smell of artemesia and sandalwood unexpectedly filled up her lungs.

Una looked up, bringing herself to meet his eyes and sticking out her chin defiantly. “Get out of my way.”

“Or else what?”

“I’ll scream.”

Cormac turned his head, looking along the aisle to make sure the coast was clear. He turned his attention back to Una.

“You wouldn’t.”

Oh, wouldn’t I? Thought Una. 

She opened her mouth and inhaled a large breath, but he clapped a hand over her mouth, roughly pushing her backwards into the shelf. He pressed his body against hers and she felt her knees tremble as her wide eyes met his smirking ones. His green eyes glittered while he watched her struggle.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he murmured. Una felt heat surging in her abdomen, feeling his body trapping hers so closely. Una let go of her book but it remained pressed between their bodies. She grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to wrench it from her mouth but it wouldn’t budge. Cormac pushed into her harder still as she attempted and failed to fight him off. 

“Are you going to behave?” he whispered, watching her trying and failing to pry his grip away.

With a prickle of realisation, she felt his hard cock pressing againt her throbbing pussy. It made her falter slightly. So this was turning him on as much as it was affecting her? Una relinquished his wrist and tried to nod but was so constricted by his hand it was barely a jerk of the head.

“Good.”

He removed his hand and she gasped for breath, feeling her chest rising and falling against his, the book the only thing separating them.

“So, when do you want to hook up?” he asked.

Una scoffed, mustering all the derision she could. “I don’t want to hook up with you.”

“That’s not what you said in Transfiguration.”

With a flare of annoyance at being reminded of her earlier mistake, she glared at him. “You’re crushing me, dickhead,” she said, pushing his chest to no avail. He put his hands up, yielding, and took a step back. The book between them fell to the floor with a ringing echo in the quiet library.

Una crossed her arms and looked from him to the book on the floor expectantly.

Cormac stared silently for a few moments. He brushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, surveying her but still Una waited. He tutted and crouched down to pick up her book. When he stood back up she snatched the book from his hands.

“So?” he asked.

“I’ve changed my mind, Cormac. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

This was a lie. But she hated him thinking he had any control over her just because he was bigger and stronger. Especially after her earlier slip-up. She was the one calling the shots. Not him.

“Come on, I know you want me.”

She shook her head slowly from side to side.

“Una… Una,” he soothed, taking a step towards her again. The way he said her name was oddly melodic. It made the hair stand up on her arms as she clutched her book to her chest.

“I already told you, I wouldn’t be caught dead with you.”

“Nobody needs to know,” he murmured, looking down at her. Una’s heart raced. His face was so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone as she looked up at him with parted lips. She felt butterflies in her stomach as he leaned in closer still.

The way he was holding her reminded her of their encounter after Slughorn’s party. Was he going to kiss her? Or do something worse again? And which would she prefer? 

“Do you think about fucking me, Cormac?” she whispered, her lips almost brushing his.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyelashes dipping to look at her lips. “All the fucking time.”

Gotcha. Excitement rose in her chest as the scales tipped in her balance again. “Show me. Right here,” she breathed, pulling him close to her. She wanted to feel his body closing in on her against the bookcase again.

When her mouth met his, he let out a gratified exhale that made Una’s skin feel like it was on fire. God, he was a good kisser. He might have been holding her firmly but his lips were softer, gentler on hers than she’d expected. She almost felt bad about what she was about to do.

She sucked his bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth.

“Mhm,” he groaned, running his hands downthe sides of her body. His hand found the back of her thigh and he gripped under her knee, pulling her leg up to his waist. She could feel his hard cock again pressing into her open hips. 

Payback.

She sank her teeth into his bottom lip and his arousal turned to shock when she bit down - hard. He let go of her abruptly, .

“Argh!” he winced but she didn’t let go. She felt her teeth penetrate the soft flesh of his lip until he stumbled backwards, pushing away and freeing himself of her.

Cormac tried to compose himself, looking dumbfounded. He touched his hand to his bloody lip and looked at his fingers.

“I’m bleeding…”

“Lay a hand on me again and that won’t be the only thing that’s bleeding,” said Una haughtily, shouldering him out of the way as she went back out into the aisle with her book under her arm.

With difficulty, she wiped the satisfied smirk off her face as she sauntered back to Sabine and Meredith’s table, ignoring Eddie Carmichael’s eyes on her as she passed.

“What happened to you?” asked Meredith, taking in her dishevelled appearance.

Una fixed her hair hastily. “I left my wand and had to climb one of those big ladders,” she said quickly. “Nearly fell off it.”

Sabine laughed fondly. “You’re so clumsy, Una.”

“I hate the library,” complained Una sitting down.

“Can’t we just go already?” asked Meredith.

Sabine nodded and the two of them stood up and followed Una to Madam Pince’s desk.

“Just this, please.”

Cormac McLaggen passed them, keeping his head down and covering his lip with his hand.

“God, did you see him?” asked Meredith when Una had stuffed her library book in her bag and they were out of earshot. “Looks like he got into a fight with the same ladder as you, Una.”

Una laughed and refused to meet Sabine’s gaze lest she give anything away.

“Give me some credit. I’m sure my ladder was bigger than his,” said Una, linking each of their arms as they walked back towards the dungeons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cormac sat down and Eddie’s face split into a smile when he clocked his flushed face and bleeding lip.

“Don’t…” warned Cormac.

“Oh come on, please? Just once.”

Cormac sighed.

“I told you so,” said Eddie. “I fucking told you so-“

“That was twice.”

“What happened?”

“She bit me. And it bloody hurt.”

“Blood sacrifice. Dark Magic. I told ya, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t like that... I sort of started it.”

“What, you bit her?” Eddie pulls a disgusted face. “Eugh, mate. Do I even want to know?”

“No, of course I didn’t bite her.” He thought about his hand stifling her scream as she blinked up at him, her eyes wide and pupils blown out. “We were arguing - I think - the next thing I know I had her up against the bookcase to shut her up -”

“Nope. No more,” said Eddie waving his hands and screwing up his face again. “I definitely don’t want to know. And you know if her brother finds out he’s going to kill you. Have you seen the size of him?”

Cormac sighed. 

“Can’t you just find a nice girl? One you don’t want to fight?”

There was a loud thud and they looked up to see a sixth-year, Hermione Granger, picking up her dropped books. She gave them a wide-eyed look in alarm before retreating away, back between the bookshelves.

“Keep it down, Ed, you’re scaring the birds away.”

“I’ll see if I can scare Una Montague away next time for you.”

“What? No, don’t do that,” said Cormac.

“Really?”

Cormac shrugged his shoulders and gave Eddie a cocky grin.

“Fine. You keep doing what you like and I’ll keep telling you I told you so. Because it’s a bad idea. She’s bad news.”

Cormac thought it more likely that he himself was the one who was bad news. He touched his swollen lip again to see if the bleeding had stopped. It had.

“So you’re not gonna put in a good word for me at the next Prefect meeting?” Cormac asked, feeling his pulsing lip under his fingers.

“You’re mental. Absolutely fucking mental.”

“Just keep it quiet though, yeah?”

“Oh, trust me, I’m already erasing it from my mind. In fact, next time you tell me about Una Montague just Obliviate me right after, will you?”

Cormac pretended to resume his Arithmancy homework. He knew exactly what Una was up to. Eddie was right - the same old method she’d used on Slughorn. Pretending she wasn’t interested to make him more so. 

The irritating thing was that it was working. Too well. 

Chapter3: Service

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 1 - A Broken Witcher

We have now reached the scene that actually inspired me to write this, which is also depicted in @spielzeugkaiser‘s art. Originally, I wanted to stop after this. Now you can expect at least 5 other chapters, it seems. (Btw, if any of you is interested in betaing this, just shoot me a message)

Summary: Geralt and Ciri have been on the run for half a year. Through pure luck their path leads them to Lettenhove. The meeting with the Viscount, however, goes a lot different than they had expected.

part 1 | part 3

Read on AO3

Geralt was more tired than he'd ever been his entire life. They had been on the run for the better part of six months and no matter where they went, someone followed them anyways. It wasn’t necessarily Nilfgaard that was on their heels, he had realised that rather quickly. The problem was that for some reason or another more than half the Continent was looking for the lost princess he had found. In the end, it didn’t matter. She was his and his alone. His to protect, to raise, to care for. He wouldn’t just give her up now.

He wanted nothing but to get home, to get Ciri to Kaer Morhen where she would be safe, where she could grow and learn. He had contacted Yennefer about that, in the hopes that she could just portal them there, but she hadn't even responded the first few times.

Then, she had said that she couldn’t do it. That had been the end of their correspondence, with Yennefer saying she had more important things to focus on.

Then, there had been a fight. Ciri was uninjured, thankfully, but Geralt could still feel the strain days after. He guessed he should have needed stitches. But he couldn’t find it in himself to make Ciri do the gruesome work. His armour was battered and torn in many places and of all things he had lost his silver sword. Well, not lost. But it was in a fucking bad shape with shards and all. He was pretty sure the next time someone breathed too hard in its general direction it would break. Together with the rest of his gear, to be honest.

Then, Roach had died. That was alright, mostly. She had been a good horse and an old one. The end had been coming for quite some time. And she definitely hadn't been well enough to carry two people, even if one of them was a starving child and the other one a starving witcher. Still, she had probably chosen the worst time to die.

Because now they were on foot, hunted by basically everyone without coin for a new horse - or even food for that matter - and without a silver sword to earn new coin. Geralt found himself thinking of Jaskier and suddenly wishing that he knew how to sing. They had rarely gone hungry when they had travelled together. Then again, it probably wasn't the best idea to draw more attention than strictly necessary. On the other hand, he was, quite frankly, running out of options.

And that was exactly when it happened. He didn't know what it was - destiny? luck? Melitele herself come to save them? - and he didn't care: "Geralt!" Ciri exclaimed with big eyes, "there's a signpost! Maybe it can tell us where we should be going!"

He clasped one hand on her too-thin shoulder, guilt coursing through his veins. He hadn't had it in him to tell her that there was nowhere left to go. Instead he had said he had lost his way. He suspected that she knew the truth anyways.

But there it was. A tattered signpost with old letters, yet clear as day. Lettenhove - 4 miles. A tiny sliver of hope appeared before his eyes and he held onto it as best as he could. He knew that place, though he hadn't passed through it himself. Jaskier had mentioned it in one of his endless ramblings. No, not one, many actually. 'It's his home,' he remembered. Which meant that the Viscount of Lettenhove had to be his father. And maybe such a man would be willing to let a witcher and a child surprise stay, for only a week maybe. He could- he could do anything, earn a little coin or food at least and then they would be on their way again-

"Right," he said. "Let's go, it's only four miles left. If we hurry, we will be there before sundown."

He knew that it was just as likely that their various pursuers had found out about Jaskier's origins and that they would be waiting there for them, but he quickly pushed that possibility away. And if that were the case, well, it would only hasten a process that seemed already overdue.

In the end, he had been right. They arrived just before sundown to find a heavily garrisoned estate with the gates barred to them. He sighed and banged on the door.

"Who's there?" a guard called from the parapet and peered down at them. There was no disgust or fear when he took in the two swords and the armour. Geralt took that as a good sign. Still, he answered: "We haven't called for one of your kind."

"I know!" Geralt answered quickly, frantically thinking of words to say. Fuck, Jaskier had always been good at that. Geralt wasn't.

"Then why are you here?"

He felt Ciri's small hand in his and suddenly he felt better. "I am seeking refuge," he answered truthfully. “For my child and I.”

"Then seek it someplace else!" The guard turned to walk away and something inside Geralt broke. He looked at the frightened girl next to him, who looked up at him with wide eyes, as if he were a knight come to save her, as if he were a hero and thought of the fate that awaited her if they were turned away and-

"Please," he heard himself say, "I am a friend of-" He racked his brain, searching for the right title. "I'm a friend of his lordship's son!" he finally gave up.

"Master Julian?" the guard called down. "What do you want of him?"

"He is here?" That was the first good news he’d heard in months. "Please, if he is, relay this message to him: I thank him for the invitation. And I am in desperate need for apple juice." The guard barked a laugh and he ground his teeth. He knew it sounded ridiculous. "Just, please, tell him; I only ask for five minutes of his time."

The guard looked down at him and Geralt thought to see pity in his eyes. He ducked his head and hunched his shoulders as if that could make the two sets of eyes on him go away. He had always thought himself a proud man. They had called him many things in his long life. Monster, Mutant, Butcher. He had never caved. He had never begged. But now? What other option did he have?

"Wait here," the guard said and vanished.

Ciri tugged at his hand and he leaned down. Not that he could hear her better, he could hear her just fine when he was standing. But he had discovered that it made her feel calmer when he did so. ‘It makes her calmer when I act like the humans she knows.’ "Are you sure we will be safe here?" she asked.

He nodded. "More than anywhere else. Remember the stories I told you? About Jaskier?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Your friend?"

"I-" There was a lump in his throat that didn't belong there. "Yes, my friend. His father is the lord here." 'Or so I hope,' he didn't say. "And it seems he is here, too."

"So, he will let us stay?"

He clenched his teeth. He shouldn't get her hopes up, he knew. There was still a chance that they wouldn't let them stay after all, there was still a chance that they wouldn't want to take a risk, there still was a chance that Jaskier's sympathies for witchers didn't extend to his family- Melitele's tits, there was a chance Jaskier was mad at him with how he treated him the last time they had seen each other. ‘Fuck.’ A rather big chance, now that he thought of it. Still he said: "I'm sure they will."

They sat outside for nearly an hour. Geralt tried to distract Ciri from the wait and the hunger by pointing out different plants and their uses nearby. Unfortunately, none of them were edible. ‘And even if they were, we couldn’t just take them,’ he thought with a sigh.

The sun drew dangerously close to the horizon and he was just about to give up, when, to his surprise, the gates opened. There was a young woman, dressed in a colourful livery and walked while dragging her feet across the ground, accompanied by two armed guards. "The viscount will receive you now," she said quietly, "if you would follow me."

Geralt stood and put a protective arm around Ciri, gently nudging her forward. The guards fell in step behind them and the gates shut with a loud bang. Overall, it could have gone better, he supposed. Though, it probably also could have gone worse.

They were led through a nice and bright courtyard with roomy stables Roach surely would have liked - the thought hurt, though he would never admit it. There were flowers all over, flowing from pots on the ground and spilling over the railing of the gallery that framed the courtyard from all sides. The timber framing was light brown, nearly no contrast against the white infill and the sepia sandstone and the shingles were crimson red. It was so bright and colourful and peaceful, so very Jaskier and such an antithesis to the grim reality of Geralt's life.

Then, the doors opened and it hurt even more. There in the foyer of the north wing was Jaskier staring at him. Well, not Jaskier. A younger version of him, etched onto the canvas of a large painting. He was surrounded by four sisters and what he supposed had to be his parents, dressed in expensive silks and standing tall, as would be expected of the heir. He couldn't quite tear his eyes from it.

"This way, please, Sir Witcher," the servant said and after a moment he followed. There were another two guards standing in front of a heavy oaken door that opened for them when they approached. The hall that laid behind it was just how he had imagined: bright with a high ceiling, decorated with murals of flowers and fighting knights and he could swear some of them carried two swords. Ciri gasped and wanted to run off to marvel at one of the tapestries, but his grip on her shoulder tightened. Hopefully, there would be time for that later.

They were led to the dais at the narrow side of the hall, where three people sat on wooden thrones framed by twice as many guards. The two women on the left and right he though he recognised from the paining in the entrance hall, though they had grown much since the time it had been drawn. And in the middle of them sat- "Jaskier!" he exclaimed in surprise. Jaskier as he had never seen him before, dressed all in black with a sword at his hip and a stony expression on his face.

"The Right Honourable Viscount Lettenhove," the servant announced - corrected? -, "Julian Alfred Pankratz. And his sisters, the Honourable Janina and Józefa Pankratz."

Geralt blinked in confusion. That was not how he had imagined this reunion to go.

"You may bow, witcher," the older of his two sisters said.

Geralt frowned. "I don't understand," he said and took a step forward. At once he was met with crossed halberds and steely glares. "What is happening, J-"

"You may address me as "my lord", witcher," Jaskier interrupted him with a voice as cold as ice. There was not even a trace of recognition in his face.

The faintest hint of panic crept up his spine as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Did Jaskier not remember? Had he been cursed, maybe? But when he looked into his eyes he understood. "I-" His heart sank. Of course, Jaskier remembered him. And even though his face did not betray a thing, his eyes spoke of unbearable pain. 'Fuck,' he thought. "Of course," he said and bowed reluctantly, "my lord."

If Jaskier noticed the slight change in his voice, he didn't let on about it. "I am told you wanted to speak to me."

"Yes," he gritted out, forcing himself to keep his eyes cast downwards. "My lord, I am asking for refuge. We- we have nowhere to turn. A fortnight, maybe, or a week, if you will. For my daughter and I."

"Is this her?" the viscount stood and walked over to them, measuring Cirilla with his glare. "You're certain?"

"I am." He looked at him pleadingly. "Jaskier, please," he said quietly enough that no one else heard, "a week is all I ask, anything-"

"Józefa," he called to his sister, "take the girl and show her to a room where she can rest. And feed her, for Melitele’s sake. She looks as if she is about to keel over from hunger."

His sister stood and hurried over to them. She even smiled, fuck, and it looked so much like Jaskier. Jaskier had never not smiled when they had seen each other again. ‘Looks like I did a lot more damage than anticipated.’ He only tore his eyes from his apparently-not-friend when Ciri tugged on his hand and looked up at him unsure.

He just nodded. "You can trust her," he told her. 'We have to trust them.'

"The rest of you, leave, too." Jaskier made his way back to his place on the dais. "Not a word about any of this. I will have no rumours. Witcher, stay."

It took a few moments after the doors shut behind the last servant and a couple more of awkward silence before Geralt started speaking: "You're wearing black."

"Your observational skills are as formidable as the tales make them out to be," Jaskier answered, sarcasm dripping like poison.

‘Hm.’ In the past he had counted himself lucky that he had been able to evade Jaskier’s words that cut like swords. ‘Seems like I’m all out of luck.’ "It doesn't suit you."

“I’m in mourning.” He wrinkled his nose. "That's an insensitive thing to say to a man whose father has passed not a month ago."

Ah. ‘Shit.’ That explained a lot. Geralt silenced his tongue. He knew he could never win a verbal duel against Jaskier. The man in question, however, did not seem in any hurry to move the conversation forward. In fact, he looked quite content, glaring and keeping quiet. It made him uneasy. After a while he broke: "So?"

That seemed to amuse Jaskier, but he wasn’t sure. "It seems you are waiting for something, witcher."

Fuck, he had been able to read the man like an open book. Everyone had been able to do so, he had never met anyone nearly as expressive as Jaskier. ‘Where have you learned to hide all of that, you bastard?’ he thought and for once in his life he wished that his opponent could read minds like Yennefer.

His “Hmm” was met with more silence.

He shot him a look. Jaskier didn’t communicate without words anymore but that didn’t mean Geralt couldn’t. ‘Is this the way we’re doing this?’ it asked. ‘Fine.’ Jaskier wanted words? He could have words. "It seems you are stewing, my lord."

There was a crack in the facade, minuscule and nigh unnoticeable but below slumbered a bard lost for words after being told an unsavoury lie about his singing. A smile tugged at the corner of Geralt's mouth and apparently, that was enough to make him break: "You're an idiot, witcher," he hissed, quiet enough that he never would have heard without his enhanced senses. "What were you thinking? Coming here, knocking on my front door in the light of day? Couldn't you have snuck through the kitchens at night like any other person?"

He blinked, taken aback by the onslaught. “I didn’t even know you were here-,“ he tried to defend himself but was quickly cut short: “How dare you? How dare you turn up here of all places? There’s a whole continent for you! Only one Lettenhove for me.”

He measured the man who had been at his side for so long with his eyes. No banter, it seemed. No excuses either. ‘What do you want, Jaskier?’ he tried to ask him with his eyes. ‘Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you for us to stay.’

But he remained silent, neither his mouth nor his face betraying a thing.

Alright. He took a deep breath. He had begged a guard already. He could beg his not-friend, too. "I'm sorry, Jaskier,” he said truthfully, “but I have nowhere left to turn-"

"I know!” He was angry. Very much so. “Which is why I haven't cast you out, yet. You are relatively safe here for a while, what with Nilfgaard’s defeat."

His head jerked around to him. "Nilfgaard has lost?"

“Have you not even wondered why their goons stopped chasing you?”

He shrugged. “Can’t say I noticed. There were enough others to continue where they started.”

No answer.

“What happened?”

"You really don't know," he realised. "There's been a battle at Sodden. A second one. My reports say over thirty thousand dead, among them fourteen mages."

"When was that?" Fear ran down his spine. "Yennefer-"

"She's alive, as far as I know. But she was gravely injured." He leaned back in his seat. "Which is why she can't come and get you. Though I wouldn't advise it anyways. It might be safer for you to continue travelling on foot. How’s Roach?”

“Dead.”

“Pity. How long will you abuse my hospitality?”

He hunched his shoulders. “Until I think of a plan. Or until you throw us out.”

Jaskier frowned. “I will think of something. You’re no good at that.”

He shrugged. Jaskier was probably right about that. "And how do you expect me to repay you for your kindness?"

"Do not call it kindness, witcher, for it is not. Had you arrived without the girl you wouldn't have entered the keep at all." He folded his hands in his lap. "A promise will be enough, for now," he conceded.

He quirked an eyebrow. "A promise?"

"I will not ask for your oath; I know how little you like to get drawn into the affairs of us petty humans. But my shelter comes not without a cost."

"I didn't think it would." He had, actually. At least until he had stepped into the hall.

"You’re a terrible liar. I protect you with my name and walls. I clothe you and I feed you and those who are yours. In return you council me and protect me with your sword and body. At least, that is how it normally goes." He sighed and leaned his chin on his palm. “You see, were the circumstances different, I would not require such a promise at all. Alas, they are not. I am sure that pains you and me alike. You see, my momentary trust in your… loyalty is a bit exiguous at best.”

He ground his teeth and looked at his feet. "Right..." A flattened oath of fealty. ‘Jaskier, you bastard, if I had another choice-‘

"Unless you prefer the road."

"I do not."

"I did not think so." He extended his hand where a heavy signet ring rested.

He shot him another look. ‘Really?’

Jaskier quirked an eyebrow.

Geralt opened his mouth to ask if that was necessary but before he could say anything, Jaskier said: “It is.”

“Fine.” Reluctantly, Geralt drew closer and took the hand delicately between his own. He cast one last look upwards, pleading, almost begging – ‘Don’t make me do this, please.’ – but Jaskier remained stone-faced. Slowly, he bowed and graced the metal with his lips. "I am... at your service," he said warily, "...my liege."

"Good." Jaskier withdrew his hand and Geralt straightened himself. "Go now. I am in no need of you, witcher."

He exhaled forcefully and turned to follow the command grudgingly. When he had come to Lettenhove he hadn’t expected the day to end like this. He didn’t know what he had even expected but not- this.

He had come with the last of his strength, yes, but proud and standing tall. Now he was humiliated, humoured and honour bound by a man he had considered his friend for a long time. ‘And never said it,’ a traitorous voice in the back of his mind hissed.

And for what? For the hope that the man he had sent away would now not sell them out and save their lives. ‘Fuck,’ he thought not for the first time, ‘what have you gotten yourself into?’

[anime-grimmy]

Little Witch Academia and missed opportunities

Sooo, since I seem to go on a tangent every few months, have another one.

I recently watched the series Little Witch Academia. Now, I did see the original OVA and movie, but that was a few years back, so except for the concept and rough understanding of the characters I went into this show kinda blind. Also, knowing that the series started its own story and changed up a few things got me really interested.

I watched the series and you know what, it was real fun. Great animation and quirky characters, as expected of Trigger. What I didn’t expect was that I got really interested in the story as well. From what I knew about LWA (so, it’s memes) I thought it was mostly an episodic anime, which it was in its first half, but they still carried on the aspects of those single episodes.

However.

The biggest problems I have with the show lie with its characters and the missed opportunities. I do like (most) of the characters, but sometimes it felt like Trigger originally had more planned with them or they just outright shanked them. That is why I’m gonna ramble for a while, go over each character (I care about) and talk about what I like about them but was just not explored enough. Do remember, however, that I still really enjoyed the show and I am considering rewatching it again right away, but these were just some points that got on my nerves while watching.

Well, strap in I guess

(Spoiler warning btw)

Akko

Let’s start with the protagonist, shall we? I’m probably going to mention her a lot with the other characters as well, but first I want to look at her by herself.

Akko is Trigger’s typical high energy character with just a bit of sass. What I like about her is that she is loud, obnoxious, selfish and annoying and the other characters think that too. I normally really don’t enjoy these kinds of characters, even more so when I binge a series, because they get so exhausting. What I like in LWA is that even Akko’s close friends often tell her to calm down or straight up to just shut up. Akko’s character is even more enjoyable because of her great VA (actually the reason I finally picked up the anime). Her animations and reactions are super enjoyable too and tbh, even if she is annoying, she is also the funniest part of the whole show.

But, I’m here to rant, so on to the things that bothered me. Like I said, she is annoying. I can kind of see that it’s not that big of a deal on a weekly basis, maybe then it’s even uplifting. But when you sit through episode after episode it gets exhausting.

What bothers me too is that Akko barely changes. I know not to expect that much subtle character progression from Trigger, since they go from 0 to 100 fast, but it’s even stated in the show. Like the whole thing with patience. Akko was never the patient type but the episode it became the focus, they turned it up to eleven. She became unbearably twitchy and whiny, which was basically your indicator that this was going to be focused on. But after the whole lesson of the ep, in the next one Ursula even says ‘didn’t you just learn to be patient?’. I don’t wish for Akko to take big steps after she gets a lesson, but just show subtle moments where the lesson takes effect. I think it only really bothers me so much because after the ep Akko seems even more impatient.

Another thing is her selfishness / self-righteousness. Diana and Andrew even tell that to her face, that she just shoves her believes in other’s faces without considering how they feel and what their situation is. But she never, even once, doesn’t do it. I get it, it’s her character trait, being the dangerous combo of head-strong and stubborn. But it never, not even once, brings consequences. I thought it would finally happen with the whole Diana situation, because Andrew even points out Akko’s faults, but it all ends well anyways and Akko doesn’t learn at all from this.

I know this is a Trigger protagonist but at some point it just got so frustrating. It’s even sadder when you see what they did with Ryuko in Kill la Kill. Yeah, she’s still her abrasive self in the end, but she does have a more gentle and open side to her too after the show. Akko kind of stays the complete same after the whole show, only that she can do magic better and finally fly (which was honestly a cute ending, ngl). The worst parts, however, were her sad moments towards the end. And I’m not talking about her reaction to learning about Chariot, that was totally ok (though I do have some things to complaint about, but on to that later), but the thing before when she climbed that never-ending tree. Her outburst and her frustration came kind of out of nowhere, at least continuing on from the last episode. Her reasons for being so frustrated and angry make perfect sense, but the build-up is just missing, even in the episode itself. It would have been enough to make Akko look desperately at her Chariot poster a few times or just look really desperate in general after being told ‘no’ by Ursula. But she just looks her usual pouty self when that happens, so her outburst and mistrust in Ursula are very surprising. I do like that that ep is right before the Chariot (betrayal) reveal, because they just made up and got closer, but the episode itself felt so out of left field, it really bothered me.

 Sucy and Lotte

Before you say anything, I’m only lumping them together because what bothers me is not their characters by themselves, they’re great and very enjoyable, but how Trigger fucking dropped them halfway through the show.

Sucy and Lotte seem very similar to their OVA and movie selves, though Sucy seems just a tad bit less evil and Lotte not that much of a typical nerd. In general, I really liked those two and their friendship with Akko.

That said.

I find it terrible how little focus they get in the second half of the show. I mean, it’s great they are those kind of friends that don’t necessarily have to hang around the MC all the time, like in the Diana-centric episode where they go ‘We know you want to go after her, so here, have your stuff and go. We’re going to support you but not take part in it’. Things like that are great! But Akko, Sucy and Lotte are supposed to be best friends,  the main trio, Sucy and Lotte are supposed to be Akko’s mayor pillars of support. And this is beautifully shown in the earlier episodes, but later in the show it just feels like those two lose significance. What pissed me off the most is that in the second OP you see them grasping each other’s arms, a reference to the tapestry about the 7 lights. But in the end, Akko unlocks the staff and the big magic source by herself. I wished they’d gone more for a ‘Luna Lana’ equivalent. That’s just another thing! I watched the OVA and movie yesterday and their friendship is so much better in those! You see them laugh and fight and stick together, it’s so nice. You don’t get a cool moment like ‘Luna Lana’ in the series and I think they really should have. And no, the missile chase doesn’t count, that involved all girls.

Ultimately, I just think it’s sad that those 3 are supposed to represent this close friendship but the later show doesn’t show it at all. I wished other character-centric episodes, like with Constanze or Diana for example, would have happened sooner so that later episodes could push Akko, Sucy and Lotte’s friendship a bit more.

Speaking of Diana, oh boy, here we go.

 Diana and Andrew

Yes, I’m lumping them together because both could have had so much more.

First, Diana. I was actually surprised about her character, because from the little I remember about the OVA and movie, I thought her to be more of a bitch. And I was right. In the first two instalments she is a snobbish, stuck-up, rude bitch, so a Tsundere, but fun in her own rights. Her dynamic with Akko is truly amusing. In the series, however, she is still a bit stuck up, but more just a determined, stern and smart rich girl. She does chastise Akko and is shown as a know-it-all, but she respects others way more and mostly just talks because she knows she’s right. Though, I wish she would have turned out to be something right between the two.

Diana is supposed to be Akko’s rival, so why isn’t she? She’s supposed to be the Viral to Kamina/Simon, the Satsuki to Ryuko, but she just isn’t. Before her little arc, she’s kind of that ‘big goal’, the ‘perfect witch’, so the familiar obstacle that is the rival. Diana even gains some respect for Akko but also gets disappointed in her shortly after (tbh, same). But all this progression is kind of one-sided, because Akko’s perception of Diana barely changes. They don’t really have a dynamic going on in the first half, more so their own development. Heck, in the second OP it’s shown that they’re supposed to mirror Chariot and Croix but they honestly don’t. Because Chariot and Croix were two friends that were striving for the same goal but due to how differently they tried to reach it, they grew apart. Diana is striving for the same power that Chariot and Croix did and Akko, well, she doesn’t, she just goes along because she wants to meet Chariot. Which is fine, but it feels like this ‘rivalry’ is being forced onto them. Maybe that’s also intentional, but it feels weird. Diana even once says ‘I never considered us rivals’, which is understandable, but to me it was more of a surprise that Akko saw her as one. To me, it always felt like, even if Diana didn’t realize it, she viewed Akko as her own goal to reach. Akko on the other hand just gets really miffed with Diana, and yeah, she strives to be as good with magic as her, but there’s no real rivalry, not even an implied one.

Then the whole thing with both being Chariot fans and Diana getting Akko out of her slump. I already said it once, but I still think it should have been Lotte and Sucy who ultimately got her to perk up again (I’ll describe how I think this whole thing should have gone. Again, this is only cos I was unsatisfied with the resolution, the original is fine in itself though). What bothers me so much about this is that it feels like they shoe-horned this whole thing in because that’s how it was in the original. I get what they want to do, get a parallel between Akko and Diana, even more so because they both lost their magic to Chariot, and since they’re closer now than at the beginning Diana manages to reach her. But in the end, it feels forced. Both girls had one adventure together and Diana was just starting to open up to Akko, where the hell did all that understanding come from. It’s even harder to believe because it’s shown that Diana is good at relaying facts and choosing the most logical course of action, she’s not known to just openly share her feelings, more so to someone she just learned to consider a friend. And it also feels kind of lazy that a pep talk from a fellow fan and victim would just push Akko out of her slump. Instead of somehow cramming that fact in and making Diana have lost her power too, they could have gone along the route of ‘so what if she stole your magic, you’re too stubborn to let that stop you!’

Like I said, I’ll go into detail about this scene later, but first.

Andrew.

Oh. My sweet boy, they did you so dirty.

I’m going to say it right now, I love Andrew’s introduction episode, it’s probably one of my favourites. And I also like his addition to the series in general, because whereas Diana is Akko’s feud in personality and ability, Andrew is supposed to be her opposite in ideologies. But he isn’t just a male Diana who doesn’t like magic, though at first they make you think that.

I love his introduction ep so much, because they don’t just introduce an obstacle for Akko, but once again show that the show can play with your expectations. Andrew is first shown as this typical snobby, stuck up rich kid, which he is, but even when faced with someone he disagrees with, he shows a level of respect. Then further in the episode, you see that he is in fact a calm, helpful when a bit teasing individual. It also shows that he actually has fun when in danger, which is a nice change to normally one-note characters. But what I love most about this is, that he is not just this ‘snobby non-believer turned enthusiast through one outing’ cliché. Andrew gets to have a bit of an adventure with Akko and get to see amazing magic at that, but he stays pessimistic. He doesn’t just change his world view in a second, because that’s not what he was raised to do.

Having established all that, every time he shows up, he kind of matters less and less. The whole party episode was fun and all, but with Akko still being stuck in her narcissistic world view, the effect of the ep is small. Because what it really is about, is to show on one hand that Andrew is very subordinate to his father and that his perception of magic isn’t necessarily his own opinion, so there is a possibility to change his mind. On the other hand, it’s to show Akko that some people make decisions not based on their own volition and sometimes their opinion can’t just be changed like that.

But in the end Akko doesn’t learn her lesson and even if they do play a bit with changing Andrew’s mind, there really isn’t much to it. When I heard that originally it was planned for Akko and Andrew to be together at the end, but they scrapped that idea, it made so much sense why Andrew felt so out of place in the last few episode. Because he was. Honestly, it really shows now how they weren’t so sure what to do with him at the end, because he was not supposed to be the one to make that big of an impact, neither on Akko nor on the plot as a whole. He does say something very significant to Akko though, to be her own witch and not try to be Chariot, but that gets kind of brushed under the rug, because again, he isn’t supposed to be the one to make an impact anymore. Same thing with his ‘I believe’. It’s just there to be there, because even if he opened up more to magic and Akko herself, I don’t think he would have been snapped out of his ideology that he got punched into him since he was young and just abandon his father’s decision he had just started to doubt.

I think all of this would have flown better if the whole Diana arc would have been earlier in the series. There would have been more time for Diana and Akko to find a common footing and become believable friends, Andrew would have more reason to be mesmerized by witches and magic, because he didn’t just get to see determination from Akko but from Diana as well (and you kinda have that ‘go against your family’ stuff too) and then, in the later part of the series, there would have been more time for the main trio to develop a bit more.

But even if that hadn’t happened, I just want to get to changing up the scenes after Chariot’s reveal, because I think if they had handled all that a bit better, then the original ending would have felt even more sincere.

 Cheering up depressed Akko

Like I said, I find Trigger’s solution to this small arc lazy. Because you start up with Andrew and Akko meeting up to give her hat back, Andrew says stuff that not only gets Akko thinking but himself as well. Then you got the reveal, everybody searching and Diana being the only person needed to cheer her up. I know it can be argued that, only after Lotte comes in crying with the others in tow, Akko cheers up, but I think most of it can be chalked up to Diana, which is such plot convenience. Again, the things that bother me are the whole ‘Chariot fan and victim’ thing and how Lotte, Sucy, Andrew and the others are not really significant in this moment. The biggest thing that bothers me is that they start this mini arc with Andrew telling Akko to be herself and reach her goal with her own strengths in mind, not because she is chasing someone else. But then with Diana, it’s basically a ‘I could do it, so you can do it too’. I know they’re trying to build a parallel between those two and show how Diana opens up to Akko, but I think that just misses the point of what they had sat up.

Before I get to describing my idea, again, you can totally disagree with me, heck, you don’t have to like what I come up with at all. But just know that this is supposed to be a rant and I purposefully highlight the things that bothered me. I still love the show and only rant about it because I know Trigger could have made this already fun show even better.

Anyways, here is how I’d handled this arc:

The start of the arc is still the same. Akko and Andrew meet up, he tells her to believe in her own strength, Akko gets distracted and runs off, Andrew gets thoughtful. You have the whole reveal with Chariot, Akko vanishes and Diana and the others go search for her.

Now, what I want this arc to accomplish is, that Akko learns to believe in her own strengths but also to show how her friends have her back. Because that’s what the whole ending is about, right? Showing how Akko changed people, how they believe in themselves and even more so, believe in her. So, I want all of her friends to play a part in cheering her up, but make Sucy and Lotte the biggest influence of them all.

I’d start the changes from where Diana is nearly at Akko’s location. This time however, she finds Andrew close by. After the whole Parliament meeting stuff, him and his father are still in town and he went out at night, wandering around, deep in thought. He somehow managed to make himself think about his own situation with all that he had told Akko.

Diana, knowing that Andrew had met up with Akko, approaches him and asks if he had seen Akko. Since he is confused and worried after hearing she’s gone, Diana explains the situation and Andrew decides to help them search.

He is also the one that finds Akko first, right on that bench, covered in snow. (this part is a bit inspired by a post I read). He runs over to her, shocked at how cold and unresponsive she is. He gives her his jacket and he brushes the snow from he hair. He sits quietly next to her, worried glances and all. He thinks about what Diana told him and mulls over an answer. In the end, he basically repeats to her what he told her earlier that day and maybe something along the lines ‘and honestly, I wouldn’t believe you don’t have magic, because to me you are truly bewitching’, just so that you have nod back to the party, only now it comes from the heart and not because of a potion. That gets her to perk up and Andrew just gives her a reassuring smile.

Then Diana comes in, finally finding the two. Diana takes Akko to the café, Andrew staying behind. (here Akko could keep his jacket, so that in the end you have the parallel of him bringing her the hat and her returning the jacket). The café scene is kind of similar to the original, but I’d change the reason for Diana’s loss of magic. Instead of her losing her magic abilities all of a sudden, maybe she could have had a tough time manifesting them from the start. But Diana shares with Akko that she was inspired by Chariot too and that kept her going, believing in herself and her magic and finally succeeding. She tells Akko the whole thing with how she got envious of her, but at the same time that, just like Chariot, Akko had kind of become an inspiration as well. Now you don’t have the ‘I could, so you can too.’ but more Diana cementing that Akko has powers of her own and is already influencing people.

Then in come Amanda, Jasminka and Constanze. Amanda goes straight to shaking Akko and ruffling her hair, shouting something about ‘who am I gonna cause trouble with if you go’. Jasminka offers Akko her candies and Constanze shoves plans in her face, trying to show her that she needs her assistant. It’s just small things, but it would allude to the three of them caring about Akko and in Amanda’s and Constanze’s cases, that she had made an impact on them, tying in previous episodes.

Lastly come in Lotte and Sucy. Lotte is still crying and asking her if she was leaving. But they would kind of go into more detail, like a small recap of all that happened and how important she was. They would also talk about how Akko has grown so much already and so what if Chariot had taken her magic, she still inspired Akko and Akko therefore grew into her own witch that now inspires people.

After that, Akko finally snaps out of it totally, maybe grinning full force before sobbing and burying herself in Lotte and Sucy’s arms.

I think in general with a recap of the show so far and showing Akko’s journey, it would be a good set-up for the end. You got Akko back on her feet, her faith rebuilt but also her believe in herself strengthened. You got the bond between the characters established which makes the chase after the missile more impactful and you actually got more reason for Andrew to cement his own believes more. (maybe have him walk in the café too, just so he sees how many people Akko has inspired but also how much people can believe in magic)

 But like I said many times already, this is just my take on what could have been handled better a bit. I still really love the show and its characters. I don’t necessarily want a whole new season, since they did wrap up many things already, but I’d love a movie or some OVAs to explore some characters more in depth.

 Speaking of which, I’m just going to drop this here at the end, because I do want to talk about it but not that in depth. The thing about Ursula/Chariot and Croix. I kind of enjoyed the OVA-Ursula more, because she was kind of spunky and you could tell that she believed in her own strength. Series-Ursula is a freaking Jedi, but she is just so meek and nervous, and that even as Chariot, which I didn’t really like. Croix is an interesting character and I love me my evil scientists, but she turned generic antagonist at the end. As expected, tbh. The only thing about Croix I want to highlight is that I believed so hard that she and Andrew were somehow linked or related. Because when you binge the series, Croix shows up shortly after Andrew’s introduction. And in a series with so many unique eyes, they have the fucking same. I just thought that Trigger was hinting at something, because not only do they have a very similar shape and the exact same string green colour, the first few episodes with them heavily focus the camera on their eyes. Especially with Croix! It felt like the anime told me ‘look, look close at those eyes, seem familiar, right?’. I waited so long for something to happen but it never did, what a shame. Though, maybe they did have something planned but just like the initial ending, they scrapped that idea but left the designs untouched.

 Anyways, I’ve been ranting for over 4000 words now, I think that should be enough for one little analysis. If you have your own thoughts, feel free to share them with me!

[toujourspur13]

What’s so interesting about Sirius Black... apart from the obvious?

Well…I feel obliged to jump into this discussion about Sirius and his family.

I actually think that canon Sirius Black is a good example of multidimensional character with a complex personality (rare thing in hp series)…at least the way JKR wrote him implies some psychological depth (hp is mainly teen literature about friendship - the marauders friendship, the golden trio are all great examples of it - but let’s face it - this literature has a tendency to a very specific narrative - maybe that’s the reason for popular Sirius fanon - I mean…Sirius being part of the Harry’s story is seen through the lens of Harry’s problems). The thing is that usually Sirius is greatly simplified when, in fact, he’s one of the most interesting and complex character in the whole series.

OOTP is the longest hp book - it contains huge amount of text about Sirius’s family incl. RAB who’s indeed very important to the story; and it also contains excessive amount of Walburga Black content. Why excessive? Well because she is not even important to the plot…I mean, at all. Harry (and the whole 7-books journey is Harry’s POV) doesn’t even care about her. But she is important. To Sirius. To the extent that he can barely shut up about her.

And as Sirius’s important to Harry we got all those extra pages about The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

When he’s showing Harry the family tree, he keeps going back to her - she did this and she did that, she removed him, she removed Andromeda, Uncle Alphard…

I saw how he managed to squeeze her in one passage in two different contexts. She’s clearly weighing heavily on his mind. Grunted, he is very angry about everything she did - but can you really disagree that he is super fixated on her.  Frankly speaking, you could’ve expected that he’d be talking so much about James (in Flitwick’s words ‘You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers’) - but in fact he doesn’t talk a lot about James - it’s his family he seems unable to shut up about. Cross out all his rant and the book becomes significantly shorter. Sirius shows Harry all of his relatives because he wants to.

Remember Araminta Meliflua…his mother’s second cousin?! Is it of any interest to Harry - I doubt it. Harry’s more interested in the Malfoys at the tapestry - but then again Sirius pays little attention to them - and only answers the direct questions. The only one about who he truly doesn’t want to talk in that scene is Bellatrix.

Btw if I remember correctly, he’s even distantly related to the Potters…but for some reason he chose to ignore this. So let’s just say that his thoughts in that scene are clearly one-sided and family-centered.

Even in POA Sirius is mirrored to his mother (we can only understand this after reading the 5th book though) - Sirius slashes the Fat Lady portrait when she refuses him the entry to the Gryffindor Tower - Walburga burns holes in the family tree. Angry management is what they both clearly need. They are so extremely alike that I am almost sure it’s all deliberate and JKR used her as a way to show deeper levels of Sirius’s personality (and not the abusive nature of his childhood).  Loud, high-strung, passionate and very emotional.

Sirius says that he ‘hated the whole lot of them’ and that’s why he ran away and instead of saying something like ‘I got so fed up with my parents lecturing me how I should avoid mudbloods at all the cost/ hate them/ whatever fits the profile of pure-blood maniac’ he says in the next sentence that he was constantly reminded that Regulus was a better son. This is a very jealous remark. It’s pretty obvious that what he wanted is unconditional love - ‘either you take me with all my extreme political views or I’m gone’. The things Sirius says are often contradictory and half-truths and sometimes he just chooses to withdraw certain information at all.

I sometimes come across the strange ideas that JKR tried to parallel Harry’s life with the Dursleys to Sirius’s childhood - I mean, do we really need to go there? You’d be better off trying to parallel him to Big D rather than to Harry. It’s fairly obvious that the odd ideas about Sirius’s abusive childhood are used for the sole purpose of helping him to bond with Remus (in terms of being subjected to physical pain) where he wouldn’t be able to relate to James (you know what popular phenomenon I mean).

Another popular idea - that the 1st year fiasco with Sirius’s Sorting was a big deal. I admit we have very little info about this BUT the fact that he put Gryffindor banners and pictures of  bikini-clad Muggle girls into his room makes me think that the parents were clearly disturbed and disappointed but not to the extent that it became something crucial in their relationship. Clearly Sirius used that as a means to annoy them. To tell you the truth, I find this attempt to go against fanatical blood purists quite feeble and certainly below Sirius Black’s level - it feels more like «hey, mum, look I stick posters of barely-clothed girls on the wall in my room - let’s see what you can do about this».

Btw the interesting thing is that it somehow feels that Sirius’s relationship with his mother (unlike the ones with his father or brother) was the relationship of equals which is odd because she was older and his mother. The explanation for this can be that they were very much alike and she in fact allowed it…maybe (well here I agree that it’s vague and can be just because it’s only the portrait and not the real person but still there is something about this).  And they have this you-hurt-me-now-I’ll-hurt-you-back attitude that implies equality and a certain degree of exclusivity. They both very clearly are not careful with words and actions.

And thus we’ve come to the very touchy subject - her psychotic portrait - her little ‘welcome home’ present. I grant her that - very impressive and colorful vocabulary.

She definitely wanted to be sure that in case Sirius had come home he would never have a moment free from her. Very dramatic.

“Yoooou!” she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man.

“Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!”

“I said — shut — UP!” roared the man, and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again.

They match each other really well. (All the drama aside, if we consider this matter seriously - it’s just a portrait of hers and she was insane and alone for years after she lost everyone. But yeah - pretty nasty thing to do - I agree).

Frankly speaking, her personality isn’t really that significant in this case - it’s more important how Sirius feels about her, the way he can’t let her go. He’s relatively okay in the 4th book while on the run in the cave eating rats and arguing about Crouch, Bertha Jorkins, Karkaroff, Snape etc. But his severe depression in the OOTP clearly has everything to do that he’s locked up in ‘the house of a dying person’ (the very last one from their family) - like in the case of his mother’s true personality we’ll never know for sure what’s that about - Sirius’s real feelings are impossible to decipher - he says one thing - does another - feels maybe something completely different - for all I know, it could be about plenty of things one of which is that seeing her awful portrait, sitting in the rooms where they used to be together is a constant reminder that his family is gone and no matter what he feels and wants, he can’t fix anything about that - it’s all lost for good.

Of course, Sirius wouldn’t like to be there - a man of action trapped in his own past without any hope to ever overcome his unresolved issues with his family. The way he’s fixated on his mother is so intense that it’s almost unhealthy but I guess it’s just the visible (most explicit) tip of the iceberg.

Sirius with his hidden and repressed feelings is a great and very interesting character - he’s so much bigger than just James Potter’s best mate with a cool leather jacket. His relationships with his family is what makes him such a deep character (and not those ideas about how fluffy little angle was magically born in the family of twisted and deranged warlocks - well, it’s a little bit naive). After all it’s an internal conflict that sells the character.

Upd 2020

I think it is worth mentioning that since we’re discussing fictional world and fictional characters it only makes sence what the author implied and what the author did not. Yes, there is no absolute truth because it is all not real but the way character is written usually allows us to make certain assumtions about his or her inner world and motivation. So called ‘canonical evidence’ only matter in terms of what the author wanted to show us. I’ve never had any problems with fanon and headcanon - the only thing that bothers me is saying some things were in the main text when it is explicitly implied that there was nothing of that sort.

[thoseindarkness]

DtD News Nov 2020

Thank you to anyone who came back for this nonsense. For brevity I have an announcement that I want to make up front. I didn't have room for it last month so I pushed it back, but I can't anymore. I had to make one major revision to the published story. I want people to know about it.

This is the TLDR version. I tell a more in-depth story at the end.

ANNOUNCEMENT

The summary: I had a bad outline walking into writing Mistrust Goes Both Ways. I ran into a problem mid-story. Instead of stopping and taking the time I needed, I challenged myself to creatively solve my way out of my problems. I re-started with about half of what I'd written, published Mistrust Goes Both Ways, and restarting my outline with high hopes.  I was proud of myself for rising to the challenge.

Despite my best efforts, it didn't work out. In the end, I had to scrap my outline. I was able to structure the end I was going for and spent the end of 2019 trying to link the first two stories to the ending I wanted. It wasn't working. Then TRoS. Then COVID. Here we are. In June, I started experimenting with scrapping Mistrust and restarting from Read Between.

Mistrust Goes Both Ways will not be part of the finished story when I'm done. I know some of you love it. I love it. I have no intention of taking it down. I might, for a short time, when I'm posting the final story. I'll let you know if that happens and it will go back up afterward. I don't have specifics as there's no point planning for it now.

For right now, nothing is changing on my AO3 account. Feel free to read and comment to your hearts content. I promise it will stay up forever to remind me that some mistakes are worth sharing with others. I learned good lessons from this mistake. It stays.

That being said I think I owe you an actual update on the progress of this story.

WHAT THE HELL I DID THIS MONTH

After my first update I needed to re-integrate with Reylo friends. Funnily enough, that pulled me into another fic. I've been working on that between following this election. Now that it's called I can get back to writing. I tried a couple of times since I voted on Oct 30th, but I knew it wasn't what I wanted to be thinking about.

Thankfully, I've also begun doing more social/political essays lately. I'm not sure what overall form or shape those may take and I haven't published any. Still, I was creative and I did plenty of writing. Interestingly, all this political focus is good for Deceive the Deceiver. Spinning and listening to conspiracy theories is a big part of weaving a world like this one. A great deal comes from my thoughts and perceptions of the real world.

WHERE DTD IS

As of right now I am in the process of first drafting the entire story with Read Between as the starting point. That is, every one of the short stories in the series. What I'm doing is somewhere between a history, an outline and random scene writing. All of these elements are currently strung together in one long, continuous, chronological, first draft. It's everything from the history before Read Between (which starts in the 1930's), all the way to the final scene of DtD.

I'm taking all the good ideas I've created in the last couple of years and re-organizing them into a first pass. It's the skeleton and some of the meat now. I'm slowly building out now that I have a blank-er slate. It's about choosing what works and what doesn't.

I call it accordion writing. It just gets bigger and bigger. This outline will later level up into the first full story drafts for each part. I've got so much history when I finish this I might… I'm getting ahead of myself. Don't want to give too many clues away.

Another interesting thing that's happened recently is I've started pulling bits of other fic ideas that I’m just not gonna finish. A big chuck of the history I stole from a modern/academia AU where Ben and Rey are history students specializing in the ancient Jedi religion. Another was a complication between characters came from a canon story where I wanted to paint the relationship with a new layer. We'll see if I can pull that off.

I spent a lot of time prior to this year focusing on the heroes but my villains hadn't gotten much love. Filling in the history has given me a chance to flesh out the villains. All their moves and countermoves, woven through the bits I already have, are spinning a pretty tapestry. Oh, the villains are so much fun to write!

This other fic came together in the same sort of accordion fashion and it's been fun working through the kinks in the process now that I've seen some of the weak points on a scale like DtD. I think I've mentioned, but this is a writing experiment for me and I'm most invested now in improving my process and clue-threading with DtD. This other fic is helping me test it on a smaller scale.

Not that this needs to get any longer, I'm just going to throw pretense out the window and go with complete vanity. If you don't give a wet shit about my life (and I don't blame you) you have reached the end of your journey. I hope to see you next month. If not, then I leave you with this parting:

May we meet again in our next fandom, through mutes and not as rival shippers.

The following is the ridiculous story of my ups and downs with Deceive the Deceiver. I figure if I explain to you how much I'm invested in this story some of you will stop worrying that I'm going to abandon it. Trust me. I'm not.

This tale stretches from NANOWRIMO 2018 and the prompt that started it, through the ups and downs of 2019 and 2020, to the writing of last month's letter. Buckle up. I love bumpy rides.

DtD: from NANO '17 to COVID-19

This story truly starts in December 2017 when I drenched the seat beneath me during Last Jedi. I'm a TLJ shipper. I got caught on the thirst train. It hit a time when writing was becoming a really big part of my life. I've been writing since I was a kid. I stopped for a while and came back to it. It's a long story. Ultimately, I'd started writing a lot a few years earlier. A mix of fic and originals but I was running into problems so I start reading a bunch of books to get better. TLJ lit the fires. NO joke TLJ came out on the 15th. I have pages of writing from the 20th.

2018 was Reylo year! I was already on Tumblr for my previous fandom (Batman comics). I found Reylo AU week which is in August. I submitted a story for that. It was the first fic I published for Reylo. Fast-forward August to November. I'm in the Writing Den on Discord and someone throws out this spy prompt. People start running with. Throwing ideas around. One of those was the snuggie in Mistrust! I have that conversation saved and story spots for each crazy thing they threw out. Finally, I said I'd do it!

Mind you, this is November 2nd. Nano has just started and the event is about "turning off your internal editor." This prompt consumed me. I was trying to keep up with SpaceWaffleHouseTM that first year. I did, btw. We both crested 100,000. It was my first Nano. Word count is not my problem. Organizing my crazy ambitious ideas is my problem. Some of that 100k was other stories, like Custard which I wrote half of in November and the other half Jan/Feb 2019. Most of it… probably 80k of it… was DtD.

Read Between the Lies is currently 33,710. I wrote at least 20k of that during that first Nano, as well as outlines and scenes for what I thought would be the starting point. I remember wanting to write Read Between to "get into their headspace" by writing their first meeting. I didn't think it would become a whole story. I was just going with it then. Any idea that came to mind.

I took December 2019 off for a few reasons. Some personal. Some burnout. I'm one of those people that can use writing to relieve stress, but I was so exhausted from that month-long writing sprint. By the last week I was dragging to get the final four or five thousand words to hit 100k.

Also, what I had by the end (no internal editor) was a bird nest of ideas that had too many beginnings, not enough middles, and endings to go around. I knew one thing right away: I knew I had more than one story. There were so many fun ideas. I figured, what the hell. I knew another thing right away: the prompt was at the end of the story. Like, the very end. Like, the last short story. Or the second to last short story, at the earliest. That hasn't changed. Ever. That's just where it ended up.

Between January and April of 2019 I touched DtD a few times. I kept coming back to it, reading through it, trying to untangle it. I made new notes on the stories. Expanded ideas. Tried to structure it. I figured out a bunch of good notes, but no real substance. The hardest thing was figuring out where to start! Did I:

(1) Start shortly before the prompt with Ben/Rey's relationship established and fill the story with the history?

(2) Start a lot earlier and build Ben/Rey's relationship from the beginning I'd written in Read Between?

If I'm being honest, Read Between was a lot better than I thought it would be and I didn't want to get rid of it. For a while I was thinking of publishing it last as a "prequel" if people liked the series.

Funny enough, the turning point happened May fourth weekend 2019…

In the week leading up, I was struggling through another story and decided to take a break for the weekend. I'd start writing again on Sunday when I met with my writing group. I met them through Nano. We used to meet at Panera. Now they meet on Discord. They mostly sprint though and I'm not a sprinter. I miss Panera. Anyway.

May 4th was a Sunday (look it up). I gave myself a writing break for the weekend and marathoned Star fucking Wars. It was nerd weekend. I was going to nerd out. I wore exclusively SW gear all weekend. I remember it well. It was the start of something fucking magical in my life.

Have I mentioned recently I really love this story. Trust me I will fucking finish it. Oh my god the demons won't leave until I do. Get them out of my head…

I had a pretty rockstar weekend. I believe the reason I skipped the PT that weekend was because I'd watched it the month before or so. Right after finishing the Clone Wars animated series (which is awesome and I strongly recommend both it and Rebels). I skipped them and SOLO.

Starting with R1, I went through in chronological order. I stopped at RotJ. I was with my family on Saturday and they were playing RotJ in the living room during the party. We talked about my marathon. My mom came over to my apartment after. We watched RoTJ properly. Then Force Awakens. It was too late by then to watch TLJ. I know I went straight to bed after my mom left on Saturday night.

Somewhere during or right after TFA I started thinking about Deceive the Deceiver. I don't remember what sparked it. I went to bed thinking about DtD. I know this with 100% certainty because I woke up thinking about again on Sunday and I thought it was quite odd.

I dream about this story in a way I have only dreamt about a precious few. Technicolor folks. It keeps me up at night.

I went to my writing group with (a) no plan for what to write, (b) a gordian knot that I had yet to untangle, (c) a sudden urge to re-read it. I opened my notes and read DtD through all our sprints. I read most of it during that writing session. We go about three hours.

That night I had Game of Thrones at my parent's. It was the (spoiler alert) episode where Arya kills the Night King. I remember because two minutes into the episode my brother's car broken down a few blocks from our apartment and we had to go help him. Derailed the whole night (this is foreshadowing).

Side note: I live with my younger brother and he's the best roommate I've ever had in my 35 years of life. Love you, Mo!

The episode was recording so we ran out. Had to leave the car in a parking lot. Someone had already helped him push it out of a puddle but my brother was soaked to mid-calf and the engine was shot. We dropped him off at home and I rode back to my Momma's crib to watch GoT. It was only the beginning of a wild night.

I went to bed late. I had to get up a few hours early to deal with the car before work started for either of us. I guess we were both hoping to avoid taking the day off. That wasn't going to happen. I drove home but I couldn't sleep. That crazy episode and the fact that my brain was already on fire with DtD.

I spent the wee hours finishing my re-read through the rough draft of Read Between the Lies. It saw my starting place. I started writing. I wrote through waiting in a parking lot, for the tow truck, in my car, at 6 am, with no sleep. I did a voice recording as I drove from the parking lot to the mechanic where the driver was taking my brother's car. I thought about it the whole way back. I sat on the sofa a wrote some more when we got home. I went to bed at 11 am and I'd written 10k more words for Read Between the Lies.

Somewhere between the chaos of May 5th and the official publish date on June 5th, Read Between got written. I know it didn't take too long. I remember sending it off to beta (by my amazing beta team on 1 & 2: Em, Jen, and Sai) and immediately pivoting to my outline. I slapped that together far too hastily and kept moving. I was going on holiday in the UK (I'm American and I'm ashamed) in early August so I planned on trying to publish Part 2 when I got back. At the very least I wanted it ready for beta.

Also some to admit, around the middle of 2019 I was fatigued with the fandom. We were hitting a lull. I was psyching myself up for the end and the exit. I was trying to clean house. I wanted to push out unfinished fics. To make them work. There was a lot of that mood from me in 2019. I was trying to make everything work. It's why Read Between came out, and that was a good thing. It's also why Mistrust came out, and that was a bad thing.

With that mentality looming, tough outline in hand, I started writing Mistrust before the end of May. I hit my snag sometime during the period I was publishing Read Between because by the time it was all done I knew I wasn't going to have a finished story by the time I left for London. I would figure it out when I got back. I picked up another project to distracted me from my problems for a little while. That is going to be an original if it's anything. One day…

At some point after I got back I started focusing heavily on problem solving. I had two stories already and a number of plot threads I had to resolve. I have heavy, heavy, heavy notes from September to December of 2019. Lots of possible ways to run this story. It sucks that a lot of that stuff isn't going to make it, but I'm recycling shit every day and I learned so much about the characters/story in that four month period. It really shaped the finished product in an important way.

This period is where I started to look at the bigger structure and how I was going to solve specific plot problems in each short story to bring the whole together. That focus on the different parts is important because it was the last thing on my mind when TRoS happened.

December 20th (the release date) is my birthday. My ass drove up to one of those Reylo-only screenings and I was surrounded by amazing people as I watched a movie that ruined my 35th birthday. Thankfully, I spent it in incomparable company. Thank you to all the hosts and super special thanks to Jen. Not only was she a DtD beta on both, she invited me. Thank you love! You are the reason I still remember that trip with joy.

Side note: I no longer hate TRoS. I've made my peace with it. I'm a far happier person now.

Needless to say, the only Reyloing I did in January of this year was venting frustration. Then I took a few weeks away from the fandom. I'd done my purging into the void. I knew other people still needed the space to vent but I had to get away. Once the toxin is out I couldn't let it back in.

What occurred starting in February of 2020 was a series of situations in which, every time I logged into Twitter I was faced with the kind of vitriol in the fandom that I don't need in my life. Some of it was still TRoS stuff, even as late as May. I'm not judging, I'm just saying, with the world on fire (literally), I didn't need it.

I don't think I have to explain why I've avoided social media like the plague since early this year. I live in America. If you heard anything about our recent President I don't have to explain any further what this year has been like. That has been par for course all over the world.

So here's my secret to happiness. I don't fux with the trolls. Do not engage. Sometimes that means radio silence. I'm breaking that silence because I want you to know 2020 has not destroyed DtD. It's only leveled shit up.

I have pretty much been working on this story consistently since March of this year. I go back and forth with reading, history, documentaries. I'm learning to wield many new weapons. They take time to settle in. DtD is the de-stressor I go to in between the real shit.

Sometime in June I was screwing around with the order of the parts. I had worked out the end but I was trying to bridge the gap between the ending I was certain I needed to get to and the two beginning stories I'd already published. I couldn't bridge the gap. It had been a year since I published Read Between and it wasn't working. Then I had an epiphany.

What if I got rid of Mistrust? Read Between is a pretty blank slate. I didn't want to re-write it and I still don't. I have no intention of getting rid of Part 1. I may clean it up and add some stuff at the very last minute, but it will be right before the new stuff drops as a pre-cursor to the flood of subsequent stories. I may add a few new clues or alter a scene or two, but I have plenty of room to move with it exactly the way it is.

What does that mean for Mistrust Goes Both Ways? To make a long story short, there was no good way for me to continue with what I'd published and still write the story in my head. I'm sure there are cool places to take the existing story, but that's not what I'm trying to do. In truth, I should have left 1 and not published 2 when I hit a snag. Lesson learned.

In June I basically threw Mistrust out and asked myself, "Now what?" I have months of great ideas rife for reshuffling and no restrictions on how to bridge the gap from 1 to the ending I wanted. But the end had shifted.

That brings us up to speed. The last thing I did before taking a much needed break was get through 90% of the history in my accordion outline/draft. I poured the foundation that was missing. I walked away in early October and let it set. I'm going to button up this other fic I'm working on and then go back to DtD and check the foundation I laid.

I'm very confident that not only will it hold, but that with fresh eyes and the fun side stories I've had the chance to lay to rest, I will finally be able to start building the finished products on top of it.

IN CONCLUSION

I'm still as excited as I've ever been for this story. It frustrates me all the time, but that means the medicine for my soul is working its magic. Change it painful, but pain is transformative. I've embrace changed. That ache is just a sign the muscles are getting stronger. Growing pains. As I learn to live with them in my family, my country, and my job, I find that life's lesson's often end up reflecting in every place in our life if we but open our eyes to look.

Growing pains exist in my writing process too. They are as transformative in this corner of my life as they are in every other. They have revealed as much about me as a person in my writing as they have in my politics. They have taught me how to compromise with my family as I learn to compromise with my characters. As I consider how people treat each other I am reminded that struggles in understanding our fictional counterparts may shine a light on our struggles to understand our truer selves.

Take care of yourselves. Once you've got that covered, if you can, take care of each other. Feel free to poke me and say hi. If not, until next month.

Fari.

[tanadrin]

Reordberend

(part 21 of ?; first; previous; next)

(BTW, as of this update, Reordberend is, by my count, a little over 45k words long, putting it in the territory of a shortish novel. That also makes it one of the longest SF stories I’ve ever written. It’s not the most popular thing I’ve ever posted on Tumblr, but it has gotten a steady trickle of notes. Knowing there are people out there who enjoy your work, even if it’s fairly niche, is the best motivation there is to keep writing. Thank you for reading!)

Katherine Alice Green The Guest Room in the Village Hall The High Settlement McMurdo Dry Valleys ANTARCTICA

to Dr. Eunice Valerie Gordon Trinity College Dublin Dublin 2 IRELAND

Dear Dr. Gordon,

I am writing yet another letter I won’t be able to send, which, I realize might make me seem like kind of a crazy person. The only defense I can plead, I guess, is that the perpetual darkness of the winters here does funny things to you if you’re not used to it, and I’ve had a lot of down time lately that I need to do something productive with. I have already written to my parents, to a couple of friends, and to my cat, which leaves only you. And these letters seem to have a way of focusing my thoughts, so maybe it’s not an entirely useless exercise.

Where to begin? Well, first of all, I’m alive. That may come as a surprise. It occured to me not long after I was marooned here that perhaps nobody knows that. No one has come looking for me, and why would they? If any rescue parties did go looking for the Albatross, I doubt they’d come this far south. Not in winter. But I did in fact survive the ship going down. I don’t think anybody else did. The Dry Valleys People didn’t find anyone else on the shore, alive or dead. I try not to think about that too much, but, to be honest, it still has me kind of fucked up.

Oh, that’s the other things. I’ve made contact with the Dry Valleys People. I am, as the return address indicates, currently living with them. They have welcomed me, rather reluctantly, and I’ll be able to remain at least until the first sunrise of spring. This was not necessarily a widely popular decision, and I’ve come to learn that the political situation among the DVP is rather complicated. They have always guarded their isolation and their independence, and they’re keen to keep guarding it in the future, but there are some among them who worry how long that will really be possible. I think this is something Dr. Wright foresaw, and tried to warn them about in the letter he sent with me. But as you might expect, this is something a large part of their community doesn’t want to hear or even think about, and my presence here is definitely fraught.

As for my original mission… well, it’s an unqualified success, despite the difficulties. I’ve learned a lot. The language, to start with. You won’t believe this, but they speak Old English here. No, not thee and thou and maketh yon Old English. Not Chaucer, even. Older. From their books and what they’ve told me, their ancestors used the West Saxon dialect of Old English, as spoken about the year 1000 AD, as the basis for the language they taught their children. Dr. Wright knew this, of course. That’s how he was able to communicate them and win their trust; he showed an affinity for the same history and the same long-term perspective they cared about. If it seems weird that a bunch of people would move to Antarctica, forsake almost every modern convenience, and deliberately teach their kids a dead language that would be useless in the wider world, well, all I can say I guess is that humans have done a lot of weird shit for a lot of weird reasons throughout history. I think I am beginning to understand why the ancestors of the DVP did what they did. Some of them have tried to explain it to me, but there is a gap in our worldviews here that is difficult to bridge.

One of the DVP that I have befriended is a poet named Leofric. His sister, Leofe, taught me the language, but I’ve learned a lot more about their literature from him. It’s primarily an oral literature, although they do write some of it down. They like long, semi-narrative poetry that draws heavily on the imagery of the natural world, and I would say that it owes something to the ancient Anglo-Saxon poetry they keep in their books, except that, of course, the environment here is nothing like the environment of England one thousand years ago. But there are still some poetic traditions they have inherited from those earlier examples. For instance, their world is harsh, and unforgiving, and from a certain angle looks like a world in decline. The ancient English (so I am told) were surrounded by great Roman ruins they spoke of as being the work of metaphorical giants; here, they have the ruins of two hundred years of scientific and industrial exploration of the Antarctic coast. And their world, too, is enclosed by a vast cold sea, although this one has penguins in it at least.

Aside from the language, the founders of the DVP don’t seem to have intended to recreate medieval English society. There are no kings. There is a semi-formal system of village headship by seniority, but the social hierarchy is very flat. Marriage, inheritance, and choice of occupation all take place on fairly egalitarian terms, and their strictest taboos surround the sharing of labor and resources, not sexuality or religion. I wonder how much of their customs are the result of gradual cultural evolution, or some deliberate effort at creating a planned community. There are lots of funny Utopian experimental communities out there, but most tend to fail after a generation. In a way, this one couldn’t fail, because they had no way to leave Antarctica. They had to make it work. Is this what a real utopian project looks like after six or seven generations?

But honestly, one of the most fascinating aspects of the DVP is their material culture. As you might expect, their day-to-day existence is profoundly shaped by the environment they live in. Their houses are all heavy stone, designed to trap scarce heat, and arranged around the village halls as a windbreak against the dry katabatic gales that sweep the McMurdo Valleys clear of ice. Despite this being one of the driest locations on Earth, it’s still a better habitat for them than the glaciers of the Antarctic lowlands, or the rough, icy terrain of the mountains--here, you can actually build, and you don’t need skis and snowshoes to get around. But, as a consequence, much of their most important infrastructure is underground.

I don’t know if the ancestral DVP brought the right tools with them or if they scavenged them once here, but they have accumulated a small stockpile of laser borers, ultrasonic chisels, and crystalsteel digging equipment that they use to carve out underground chambers in the hills as meeting places and ritual sites. But they don’t do their agriculture there; that happens in networks of buried trenches just below the villages, where they grow cold-resistant mosses and lichens to supplement a meat-based diet, and what seems to be a form of genegineered fibergrass they use to weave their clothing and tapestries, and to make books.

Their art is very beautiful. Their coats, books, and tapestries--even their stone carvings--all depict elaborate lineate forms of plants and animals, inherited I suppose from ancestral memory, since none of the organisms in question are found in Antarctica. They also make images depicting the mountains, of course, and the sea, and the animals that live on the coast; even some of the coastal settlements, as seen from far off. They’re often abstracted, but these images are geographically grounded: they’re not just “generic mountains” or “generic coastline,” they’re specific mountains, specific coastlines, and they add up--if you are exposed to them every day of your life growing up--to something like a conceptual map of all of Victoria Land. It seems that if you dropped an average adult DVP individual anywhere from Oates Land to the Queen Elizabeth Range, they could probably find their way home, even during the dark months of winter.

(Oh! And the dark months! You’d think they’d be depressing, but I never imagined in my life I would see such a sight as the aurora australis, or even the clear polar stars! I can’t describe it to you. Maybe Leofric could, if I could do justice to his verse.)

They’re very communitarian, and great emphasis is placed on making sure no one goes without, but the price of that is, apparently, extremely elaborate dispute-resolution mechanisms; for a culture without courts, government, or attorneys, they are remarkably bureaucratic. Each physical object seems to have its own laws attached to it. Some may be shared by all objects of that type--for instance, if you need an electric firestarter, you always go to the house windward of yours to ask if they have one. If they don’t, you go to the next, and so on; firestarters pass from house to house, as needed, but only in one direction. Other objects may have completely unique rules. There is a knife with an elaborately carved handle meant to be used only by left-handed people. I don’t know why; nobody I asked knew, either. But that was the custom, and it was scrupulously obeyed. As a rule, the more elaborately decorated an object, the more particular the rules associated with it, but the elaboration of the object doesn’t seem to connote anything about the rules. It only marks it out as somehow special. The rules themselves are transmitted orally. All of these rules at bottom are about making sure that resources are evenly distributed--making sure nobody has to walk too far in bitterly cold weather to find a firestarter, for instance--and even the ones that don’t make sense now probably were created for good reason. For instance, the southpaw knife. Their knives for carving meat all have handles that curve in one way, to help separate flesh from bone, and I suspect that one is the result of a left-handed steelsmith getting fed up with with tools he couldn’t use very well. The blade is that of a carving-knife, though the handle attached to it is straight. The handle was probably later replaced when it broke, and somebody needed the knife for a different purpose--but the custom attached to it remained the same.

This system of sharing is, if anything, even more scrupulously observed when there’s a windfall. We went on a salvage expedition a month ago and brought back some much-needed supplies, and they spent days working out what would go where, first to each village and then, once we got back to the High Settlement, each house in each village--and even then, this was just what went to who first. Anything that’s not a finite supply, like food, will get passed from house to house. Leofric tells me that a few years ago, a whale--an entire blue whale, actually--beached itself to the north, and they had to have a weeklong assembly (on the beach, next to the whale, natch) to decide what do with every scrap of meat and bone. They still talk about the arguments that went down at the Whale Parliament sometimes (for which their word is hwaelthing, by the way. Literally it means exactly what it looks like: “whale-thing.”). Funny thing is, they also very carefully manage arguments in these discussions. That’s not normally the case--if two people have an argument and what to physically fight each other about it, that’s considered their business. But when it comes to disputes about food or metal or tools, everybody is very keen to show how Not Mad they are, even if they’re actually seething about it on the inside. And if voices get raised, people get hustled aside, and the whole matter is dropped completely until everybody has a chance to calm down. This looks like a system that was either deliberately designed to keep fights from breaking out and feelings getting permanently hurt, or one that sprung up after some nasty experiences of actual fights. I suspect the latter. It’s all very informal, but there’s a lot of social pressure that enforces it. The price for division and discord in an environment this hard to live in would be death, and I think all their social institutions are built around that reality.

I will admit, this has not been the easiest experience. I mean, there’s the almost dying part, and the part where all my cybernetics are broken, and I had a bad bout of something flulike a few weeks ago and almost died again, but I don’t actually mean the physical hardship. It is a more isolating experience than I thought it would be, being the lone outsider in such a close-knit community. Everyone knows everybody and everything, except me. They all have their own jokes and stories and long-running feuds, and they can communicate a great deal to one another with just a glance, and I’m left wondering what just happened when everybody laughs at something, or a fight breaks out. I have struggled sometimes to learn the language. I mean, I’ve had no other choice, and it’s amazing what you can learn when your survival depends on it, but even now I still sometimes find myself struggling to communicate ideas, or staying silent even when there is something I might want to say, just because I can’t find the words. It’s infuriating not being able to express yourself well, and maybe for good reason I sometimes think they all see me as this hapless idiot who almost got herself killed, who they have to put up with until the spring as a result.

Okay, I mean, I kind of am that. But I am also genuinely interested in their society, in the DVP as individuals, in their stories and their history. But I feel like the best I can hope for is being kind of a mascot. Or a well-meaning but dim-witted pet. A Labrador or something.

Not that I haven’t made friends. I would say Leofric is a friend. The salvagers--Eadwig and Andrac--they’re friends. And I seem to have won at least the grudging toleration of the ones like Aelfric who initially wanted to leave me to die. But sometimes I think I’ve made a connection, somehow bridged the unbridgeable gulf between my life experience and the world of the DVP, only to find out I’ve done no such thing. I thought Leofe was a friend; but now she’s not speaking to me, and she’s left the High Settlement for one of the other valleys. I don’t know why, and the others just shrug when I ask them.

Ugh. This is turning into whining. Now I know I’ll never send it. Sorry. It’s been a long day. It’s amazing how tired you can get when your muscles can’t rely on your augs to help them do shit.

But I need to find a way to bridge that gap. I mean really bridge it. Because I feel like I’m starting to understand something the DVP aren’t ready to hear. Their ancestors came to Antarctica at a time when the rest of the world wasn’t much interested in it. It was a wasteland, so sure, let’s treat it as an international, shared territory. Nobody goes there but scientists and the occasional tourist. And during the Collapse, not even that--Antarctica was truly empty for the first time in a hundred and fifty years when the ancestors of the DVP came to its shores. But it isn’t anymore. And it won’t ever be a real wasteland again. Every year the mining consortia move a little further down the Transantarctic Mountains. Every year a new outpost pops up on the coast, more ships come to Port Alexander, more icebreakers cut through the polar sea. Antarctica is warmer now that it’s been at any time in the past. Heck, without some global warming, I don’t think the Dry Valleys would be habitable. But that means more exposed rock, more open ground to build on, more people coming to the continent to work on the mining platforms or the offshore factories, and one day, I think, they’re going to come here.

What will the DVP do when that happens? This isn’t North Sentinel Island, which nobody ever goes to because there’s no reason. There’s gold in the hills here--the DVP make jewelry out of it--and maybe other precious metals, and you could build a geothermal station on Mount Erebus and power a small town, if you wanted to build some autofactories. The Antarctic Authority exists to promote “science and industry,” but with a big emphasis on industry. And by science they mostly mean, like, watching penguins bone and building telescopes at the South Pole. Not soft stuff like anthropology. And certainly not protecting three valleys full of cessionist oddballs whose parents had an unreasonable fondness for dead languages.

I think Dr. Wright knew this. I think maybe he tried to warn the DVP when he was here, but back then the danger was even further away. And it’s hard to get people to pay attention to danger that seems far away, even if it might be an existential threat. And when dealing with that danger would require you to completely change the only life you’d ever known… well, that’s a hard sell. The DVP don’t really like change. I can’t blame them. But one day things are going to change here, and if they’re not prepared for it, it could get really ugly, really fast. It’s one thing to shut yourself away when the world is ignoring you. It’s another when the world comes knocking.

If I think I can persuade them, I’m going to talk to the elders here, Aelfric and Wulf. Some of the DVP have had very fleeting contact with outsiders before me. I think one of them should come with me in the spring, as a sort of emissary. I’m not sure who they should talk to, yet. Maybe the Authority. Maybe somebody in Port Alexander’s local government? Or maybe we should just try to tell their story directly to the world. That might bring the DVP more attention than they’d like, but better a little good attention now than a lot of bad attention later. I would have asked Leofe--she’s smart, she’s tough, she could handle the culture shock--but that’s not an option now. Something to think about, anyway.

Well. I hope this letter finds the imaginary version of you well, my love to the imaginary family &c, hope the undergrads aren’t giving you too much trouble this year. If for some reason you do find this letter--like I freeze to death on my way to the weather station in September and they find this document on my corpse--please forgive my stubbornness, my insistence on going on this stupid trip, and any worry I’ve caused you as a result. And if I really am dead, please tell everybody I died doing something badass, like, I dunno, fighting a polar bear. I guess those are extinct and they never lived in Antarctica anyway, but something along those lines. Make it good.

All the best,

Kate

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

*Sacrifices chicken* Oh great one, you have blessed is with lucina x Richter memes. Now may your dark powers grant us Lucina x Richter... Fluff?

Your sacrifices are welcomed. So shall it be granted, oh faithful one.

(BTW, I don’t know what Simon and Richter’s actual familial relationship is, but for the purposes of this story he’s Richter’s grandfather)

Failing at being the Belmont heir was a lot like forgetting your pants on the first day of school. It was humiliating, it was painful, and you would be forever remembered by that one fact.

Richter knew he wasn’t the heir that his grandfather wanted. A Belmont was supposed to be dignified, noble, and calm. He was a hot-headed and angry kid who spent too much time skirt chasing and resented the fact that he was a noble. His grandfather loved him, this Rishter knew, but he was also aware he was a disappointment.

So he really should have anticipated this move.

“I’m getting married?!” cried an incredulous Richter.

Simon Belmont, patriarch of the Belmont Family, frowned. “I fail to see how this is a surprise Richter. The Belmont line must continue.”

Richter balled his hands into fists. “Well, yeah. But this is… this is bullshit! You can’t just spring this on me!”

With a sigh, Simon rose from his seat and walked around his desk to Richter. “I know this is a… shock. But it is your duty as a Belmont. You will need a wife, and a guarantee for our legacy.” 

Richter glared. “You want to get rid of me.” he accused.

Simon seemed taken aback. “I beg your pardon Richter?”

“You heard me!” snarled Richter, poking Simon in the chest. “You want to get rid of me! I’m not the heir you want and your shriveled up old-man balls can’t make a new one! So you want to get little Richter married so he can pump out a new one!”

Simon looked furious, and for a moment it seemed he would strike Richter. But then the anger drained away. “Richter. I know we have never seen eye to eye, but this is not the case.” he said gently.

Simon turned and walked over to an ancient tapestry hanging in his study which showcased his ancestor, Trevor Belmont, fighting beside Sypha Belnandes (his wife) and Adrian Tepes (also known as Alucard) battling against Dracula. 

“We Hunt the Night.” he said. “Those are the words of our house, laid down by Leon Belmont when he first hunted the demon Dracula. It means-”

“It means that we’re an ancient family of vampire hunters, blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard this all before!” snapped Richter.

Simon turned back to Richter. “You have heard, but you have not listened. You are a great hunter, Richter. One of the best in our history. But you hunt only for yourself. To prove some point to yourself and the world. Until you understand why the Belmont’s hunt, I cannot entrust the running of our House to you. That is why this must be done.”

Richter ground his teeth. “So you can replace me?!”

“No. so you can learn.” said Simon.

Silence reigned between them, before Simon sighed again. “The wedding shall take place in a fortnight.”

Richter downed another beer. His favorite bar was all-too happy to keep the booze flowing.

Three days had passed since his grandfather’s announcement. Three days he’d spent wandering the city and studiously avoiding his grandfather. He’d made the rounds at various pubs, fighting puglist circuits, and visiting his parent’s graves.

Marriage. Fucking marriage. He’d always wanted to get married one day, but not to some hoity-toity noble bitch he barely knew! He knew he had a wandering eye when it came to women, but this was a load of shit.

“Another!” he called to the bartender, who nodded and refilled his glass.

As he sat at the bar, brooding, someone else sat beside him.

She was pretty enough, but her features had a hard and strong look about them. Like she was a statue cast from steel instead of marble. Her blue hair marked her as an Altean native, and she looked positively pissed.

“Barkeep.” she snapped. “Whiskey. Straight. No-chaser.”

Richter chuckled darkly. “Well, someone’s pissed. And needs their liquor.” he said.

“Desperately.” she growled and downed the glass in a single drink. “Bleh. This is what you Wallwachians call liquor? It tastes like goat piss.”

“You can leave if you want princess.” sneered the bartender.

“Hardly.” she snorted. “Another.”

Richter grinned. “It’s an acquired taste.” he said. After she downed her second glass he spoke again. “So, family, sex, or money?” he asked. At the look she shot him, Richter explained. “In my experience the only this that pisses people off like that is family, sex, or money. For me it’s family. So what’s got you up and drinking goat-piss?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Family as well.” she said. “My father has decided to dictate my life for me.”

“Heh, I’ll drink to that. Next round’s on me.” he said.

“My thanks.” she said.

“No sweat.” said Richter. He hefted his drink. “To family, may it never cease to fuck us over.”

The girl’s anger broke for a moment, she allowed her face to crack into a half-grin. “Aye. To family.”

For the next few hours he chatted with the girl. By the time closing time came around, they had each other laughing and joking, and generally forgetting about their troubles.

“Well, I’ll admit it. I had fun tonight.” said the girl.

“Yeah.” he chuckled. “If my grandpa could see us, he’d probably have an stroke.”

Well, if that’s the case you should introduce me.” she said, earning a laugh from them both.

“Hey what’s your name? I never caught it.” he remarked.

The girl stiffened before replying. “L- Lucy. Call me Lucy.” she said.

Richter, who could smell a fake name a mile away, nodded. “Alright. Call me Ricky then.” She nodded, and seemed to relax a little. “So, got any plans for tomorrow night?”

As his wedding drew ever nearer, and he continued to studiously ignore it, Richter spent more and more time with Lucy. They went out to the finest restaurants, they attended the theater to see the latest raunchy comedies on display, and upon realizing that she was an adept fighter with a sword the spared together as well.

Richter loved being around her. She was intelligent, brave, and with a hidden humorous streak that he found endlessly charming.

But even as he grew closer to the blue-haired beauty, he felt a growing sense of despair. By the time his wedding was mere two nights away, he had to face facts, He was falling for Lucy. Hard.

Life was a major bitch sometimes.

But even as his under the table courting continued, neither realized that they were being hunted.

Torr was the perennial “low man on the totem pole” when it came to vampires. He was reasonably strong, but lacked the brutal cunning or raw power that it took to become a “Somebody” in the vampire world. He’d been the mule or punching bag for one powerful vampire or another as the years went by, but now he had a plan to advance.

He had formed a small gang of vampires like him. Those who wanted to rise up in the vampire hierarchy and make their names known. And the easiest way to do that was to kill someone stronger than you.

He figured that killing the Belmont runt would at least earn him some favors. And maybe doom the line entirely. That would be sweet.

Tomorrow.

He hated that.

Tomorrow the fantasy would end, and Richter would get married. But strangely, he was dreading that less than telling Lucy.

She wouldn’t cry. She was too tough for that. She’d get stony faced and accept it, and then she’d go home. Maybe she’d cry then, or maybe she’d push him out of her mind and heart entirely.

Maybe he was arrogant for thinking that way, but he couldn’t help but feel that he had a connection with her, and he hoped she had a connection with him.

But, Richter was an expert at avoiding issues.

“So then, he tries to get the damn thing out with another fish hook!” he said as Lucy laughed. “And you can imagine how well that went. So now the dumbass has TWO fishhooks in his hand and he starts running around like a maniac, screaming at the top of his lungs.”

Lucy was laughing so hard, tears started to form in her eyes. “Ricky, that has to be bullshit! There’s no way anyone’s that stupid!”

Richter grinned. “Oh really? Remind me to tell you about the noodle incident.” he said. “That’ll change your tune about stupidity.”

“Well if you’re anything to go by, it certainly is hereditary.” she joked, shoving him slightly.

They walked in silence for a few more moments before she spoke. “Ricky, are you alright? You seem… nervous.” she asked.

Richter gulped and spoke again. “Lucy… I need to tell you something.” he said.

Lucy winced, but met his gaze. “Me… me too. I need to tell you something to.”

Before either could speak, they became aware that they were not alone.

There were twelve of them. All of them emerging from the shadows like wraiths. And they looked hungry.

“Lucy, get behind me.” he said quietly, the familiar calm of the hunt falling over him. But there was something new there. Something harder. Angrier. He was not about to let them touch Lucy.

“Don’t matter none.” snarled the leader of the group. “Yer both dead. And the Torr is gonna be big once I off the Belmont brat.”

He heard Lucy gasp, but Richter would deal with that later as he drew his whip. “Come and try it.” And, without further warning he lashed with his weapon, knocking one of the demons headless.

Taking that as a signal, the other’s charged. As Richter fought, he had one thought: Keep them away from Lucy.

As it turned out, he shouldn’t have worried, for Lucy had drawn her sword which had begun to glow with golden light. The blade flashed, and struck a vampire through the chest. the demon shrieked once and was instantly turned to dust by golden flames.

They fought together. two halves of a whole. Their synchronicity and skill making swift work of the demons.

Meanwhile, Torr was sweating. He had not thought this through. He had hoped to catch the brat drunk or with his pants down. But now he was starting to see why even the greatest of vampires feared the Belmont name.

But maybe he could still snatch a victory here. after all, that Altean bitch had left herself open.

The scream alerted Richter as the last demon fell. Richter spun to see the leader of the abominations had lanced his sword through Lucy’s ribs.

Close to her heart. Maybe… too close.

Richter loosed a primal scream of fury and tackled the monster. No whips this time. No swords. Just his bare hands. And with a a single devastating punch with strength Richter never knew he possessed, he smashed the monster’s skull to pieces.

But there was no sweetness in victory. “Lucy!” he cried, running over to her. “Lucy. No… shit… Lucy! Please…” hs=e picked her up and ran for home.

It was several hours later that the doctor emerged from the room where Lucy was being treated. “She will live.” he said grimly. “Barely. But she will make a full recovery. A few more inches and the heart would have been pierced.

Richter loosed a sigh of relief. she might never speak to him again, but she would live. And that was okay.

Moments later, Simon Belmont entered the room where Richter was sitting beside a sleeping Lucy, stroking her hair.

“Richter.” he said gently. “I have heard what happened. You destroyed that vampire with a single blow.” he said. “How, may I ask.”

Richter didn’t look away. “Her.” he said. “She… did something to me. Made me strong.” He glanced up at his grandfather. “Does that make sense?”

Somon smiled. “More than you could ever think.” And with that he embraced his grandson.

“Now.” he said after breaking away. “About your marriage tomorrow. It seems it must be postponed.”

“What?” asked Richter.

“Well, you never bothered to learn the name of your betrothed. Had you done so, I feel that much of this could have been avoided.” said Simon, an evil smirk on his face.

Moments later, Richter was beating his head against the wall while Simon laughed his ass off as Lucina, daughter of the hero Chrom slept through it.

A few weeks later, the arranged marriage between Richter and Lucina took place, and both could not be happier. And, as Richter told the story to his children, Chrom and Simon sobbed while Lucina threw herself into a very manly Richter’s arms.

In reality, Simon’s eyes were dry. It was Richter who sobbed while his beautiful bride carried him into the sunset.

[randomishnickname]

Fav fanfic authors rec list!

In honor of fanfic writer appreciation day, here’s me gushing about some of my favorite fanfic authors of different fandoms. So much amazing talent out there, I feel so awed and honored to have discovered such good writers!! A lot of the fics I came across put published best-sellers to shame.

Here we go!

Marvel Cinematic Universe

I read an incredible amount of Stony (Tony Stark/Steve Rogers) fanfiction a while back, and it’s the gift that keeps on giving, super talented writers that produce metric tons of content without it growing boring. Some favorites:

FestiveFerret (@festiveferret): Steadily working their way through every gorgeous trope, and producing an impressive amount of high-quality fics of all length and kind as a result - fun, hot, brilliant stories that are compulsively readable and full of vibrant details. Hard to chose favorites, but Lost Together and Deafening Quiet, Silent Roar are frankly so excellent I can’t not name them here.

OrbingArrow (@orbingarrow): While their stories have a great style, awesome characterization, super cool sense of detail and of humor, the reason I particularly love Arrow is their focus on hope and recovery. Stories that helped me in rough times, and genuinely make me want to get better. For example, Good for you! So grateful for these fics.

sabrecmc (@sabrecmc): I will make the bold assumption that everyone in the Stony fandom has heard of sabrecmc; they are one of the Big, Big Name Fans. And there’s a reason for that: extremely unique, rich, deep, gorgeous fics that make you weep or scream into your pillow, or melt into a puddle at the glorious smut. Just...wow. (Also, genuinely awesome kind person online!)

AvocadoLove (@awesomeavocadolove): writes quick paced, thrilling, extremely readable fics with fantastic plots and characterization. Doesn’t get boring a single second. Some of my favorites include Enemy at the Gates and Prisoner’s Dilemma

Then comes Write_Like_An_American (@write-like-an-american), who writes for the Guardians of the Galaxy fandom, centered around Yondu Udonta. I have the BIGGEST CRUSH on their writing, it’s just...so fun, so real and fleshed-out! I love sci-fi and pirates, so it’s obviously my kind of content, but seriously, they would make me love everything they write. Lots of mature themes and reflections around abuse and recovery, + doesn’t shy away from nasty and gross aspects (fair warning, big amount of kink and gore). I love pretty much everything they write, but Blame It On The Stars and No Son of Mine seriously blew me away.

Harry Potter

Considering that I read more fanfics for Harry Potter than for any other fandom, this list is painfully short; but back then I was a completely passive consumer and barely took notice of the writers behind the stories I devoured. Also didn’t bookmark those I liked :/

justonemorefic (@oddhour) is thankfully an exception. etc. etc. (and life goes on) is one of my favorite stories in general, a next-gen fic centered around an incredible OC - hilarious, heart-breaking, analytical, lyrical writing that seriously blew my mind. I still catch myself giggling when I remember some scenes.

Soul Eater

aka the fandom I write for :D again there’s so many great authors and fics I didn’t bookmark, but I pledge to do better in the future.

tastewithouttalent (@tastewithouttalent): has an incredible, absolutely unique style of writing. In their capable hands, words are woven to an amazingly sensual, intense tapestry of sensations. Writes mostly PWPs, but seriously, it’s pure poetry (and also HOT, damn). Got me started on my trashy OTP, Giriko/Justin Law, and I reread all of their work for them on a truly embarassing basis, but Air and Capable are two of my favorites (and I would give a limb for a prequel to that one Psycho-Pass AU).

adulter_clavis (@adulterclavis): champion of crazy AUs, this author made me laugh so hard I cried. Several times. Has the baffling ability to twist the characters into something slightly more weird and dark and still keep them absolutely IC. Absolutely hilarious banter and situations, genuine comedy gold; Heistception is probably my favorite.

raining-down-hearts (on fanfiction.net) has written a SoMa fic I remember devouring at incredible speed, The Cost of Lamentations. Sad and brainy and well-tought through.

LueurdeLaube (@i-am-thesenate) has a very fun, elegant writing style. Writes SoMa, Red Silk is a big favorite.

Black Sails

I am absolutely obsessed with Black Sails as of late, but still weirdly reluctant to read fanfic for it. Maybe a part of me thinks I have to rewatch it and let it settle a bit more before fully exploring possibilities. Still, I’ve read a fair amount of shippy stuff and of smut, here are some favs:

arbitrarily (@widespindriftgaze) has written two EXCELLENT Flint/Billy hatesex fics (the men are called horsemen there and skeleton tree) that feel like a punch of the gut on each reread. Very painful, much good.

youatemytailor (@annevbonny) has...such a powerful style...and writes Silver with almost frightening accuracy. lost on you made my heart clench and ache

urcadelimabean (@urcadelimabean) writes super sweet, smutty fics and has written the pegging fics this fandom desperately needs (yours, always and anything for your queen)!

Vorkosigan Saga (book series by Lois McMaster Bujold)

Since I’m only halfway through the saga, there’s a lot of fanfics I can’t read in order not to spoiler myself, but luckily for me, there’s tons of amazing stories on the earlier timelines while I wait to get the other books.

Phylomytha is ... probably McMaster Bujold in disguise. At least that would explain why their style aligns so flawlessly with that of the author, and why every! single! fic!!! feels like a deleted chapter/scene from the books. Writes a lot of short one-shots which flesh out the universe and make me appreciate it so much more. Just...wow. Aral Vorkosigan’s Dog is a longer one exploring the POV of a minor character, and I loved it so much.

Dira Sudis (@dsudis) writes heart-achingly tender fics, while staying wonderfully true to the characters. A big favorite is Frequently Suggested Sexual Practices: An Aid to Communication.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Ah, I remember the good innocent times when the only things I associated with A:TLA were cute gen fics. But alas, the kink always finds me (maybe because I’m always searching for it, heh).

DracoMaleficium (@dracze) writes awesome, kinky stuff around Jee/Zuko, mostly AUs. Incredibly rich, sensory, readable writing style.

Nele (@fanjapanologist) also writes Jeeko, and adds tons of super elegant and good worldbuilding. I absolutely adore the fics they wrote.

attackfish (@attackfish) writes very psychological, often very dark gen fics which have super competent worldbuilding (and prominently feature Mai, which - GOOD). Until the Walls Break Like Waves had me gripping my seat - a very unsettling, extremely well-written fic.

and finally:

Brokeback Mountain

I absolutely had to include cathalin ( @cathalins) since they wrote Dreaming, a fanfic that made me genuinely bawl my eyes out. All of their fics are incredible though, just feel TRUE and IMPORTANT and I’m already half-crying just thinking about that fic (crying in the good ways, btw, it’s a fix-it). Can’t possibly recommend that fic enough.

Hope you will find something to like in my rec list!!

(all those authors are, unless specified otherwise, on AO3)

[cursepoem]

Year in Review 2022 — Part 2 — TV

Not a big TV guy! I watched The White Lotus and (still) didn't love it (I know i'm on an island, here). The twinkle in F. Murray Abraham's eye, seeing problematic fave Michael Imperioli back at it, the revelation that is Meaghann Fahy, all of this kept me engaged even when I struggled with the broader goings on. The Rehearsal boasted some truly transcendent moments if the whole was a bit uneven, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't perfectly happy to be along for the ride. (And truly, Fielder's cameo at the Mets Wild Card Game is enough for a spot in these honorable mentions.) Admittedly, I succumbed late to the Andor hype off of the promise of Michael Clayton in space, a promise on which the first handful of episodes delivered, but ultimately it ended up being too Star Wars for my tastes. (File Star Wars next to Drake and smoking weed on the list of things I may have once had a genuine affection for, but long since conjure nothing for me. Kicked the habit with no real intention or effort, just one day realized I was over it.) Along with Rogue One, maybe the only installment in my lifetime that kinda works for me, here Tony Gilroy is able to tell a singular story and bring in some deft genre elements while still being firmly a part of the larger tapestry, which is respectable. What's harder to take in the right spirit are the political implications of rebellion against the fascist cosplay that's depicted, not to mention the obvious fact of the place its coming from, but I'm not the guy to really expound there. Diego Luna is watchable, hitting all the little desperate Clayton-esque grace notes. Adria Arjona even moreso in her own way, another revelation, but more in the entry below than her thankless performance here. Stellan had some moments and Genevieve O'Reilly played a woman who would eventually have short hair pretty convincingly. All that said, I still don't ever need to see Andy Serkis in anything ever again. Any screen time that guy gets outside of mo-cap is too much. (The word count I'm devoting here is pure recency bias, btw.) I was pretty floored with the first episode of Station Eleven, but didn't stick with it. Between being down for watching Mackenzie Davis do pretty much anything and boasting the best director in television (Hero Murai, more on which below), its definitely on my list to revisit.

Irma Vep dir. Olivier Assays (HBO) I was as uncertain as anyone when I heard about this. Not something anyone would ever expect would warrant a remake, not a role anyone could fathom being played by anyone other than Maggie Cheung, not exactly what I wanted from one of my favorite directors. I quickly came around once I saw just how playful Assayas was getting here, though. This is precisely the kind of work I really love (Licorice Pizza, Widows, most Soderbergh, etc) where you have someone just completely mining all the things they love, where it doesn't hinge on stakes or plot, but rather on all the idiosyncratic things that make this artist who they are, taking shape in the culmination of something that is purely them, an accretion of what makes them a singular voice. Here Assayas is having as much fun with the meta-framework of a disastrous miniseries production in satirizing all the obvious talking points of our modern content landscape as he is with the ur-text of Les Vampires that is obviously still knocking around in his head nearly two decades later. The ways he cuts between the world he's depicting, the meta narrative of the show they're producing before our eyes, and the grainy silent-era footage upon which its based is the stuff of cinema employed at maybe the most assured and meaningful I've seen in television. He's capturing back the things that streaming has taken from the form, but remains fully and playfully aware of its context. He gets lost in the weeds, sure, but that's all part of the fun, it's a rare joy to just watch these people work. And it's even full of little flourishes for the sickos like me; the Sonic Youth needle drop, the K-Stew cameo, these things had name hollering and fist-pumping on the couch. Make no mistake, this is an undeniably major entry in Assayas' filmography.

Atlanta dir. Hiro Murai et al. (FX) This is the rare send-off the show deserved. Months later, I'm still in awe of what this series achieved in its back half. The risks it took consistently had my jaw on the floor and we're going to be contending with the breadth of what it was able to explore for years to come. To return after such a long hiatus with a divisive and daring third season and then build upon it, be even more daring but all the more true to its characters and world, attempting to solve its own issues and pose even more new questions, the best television rarely scratches this surface and this show did it at every turn. It is a gift that this core of writers, directors, and performers were able to remain so true to the show's strange dreamlike world and the brutally surreal real one just beyond it simultaneously. I lost count of how many levels Episode 8 was operating on, all the different layers and lenses, but for all of this awesome density, it remains hilarious, breathlessly easy to watch. It walks a thrilling tightrope of escape and confrontation and manages to build deep emotional connection and make you howl with laughter all throughout. There are too many great episodes and moments here to count, and an abundance of great writing and interviews on the subject as well, so I'll do my best to avoid rambling and rehashing, but this truly is some pinnacle of the form level shit in my humble opinion, and I really just feel so fortunate we got what we did here.

[limetimo]

Ok let's talk ships!

Favorite AUs for Wolfstar

Rant abut Dorlene

What songs remind you of Jily or Rosekiller

Also what's your fav Marvel ships. I'm not big into Marvel but I love to hear people talk about things they like!

Wolfstar is like a household name of the HP fandom. They have the range, and the fanbase to cover it. I really like the First Wizarding War stories, because *gestures* pain. For modern AUs I adore Stressed Overworked Sirius meets Bookshop/Librarian/Barista With Secret Traumatic Backstory Remus. Also I really do like this trend of remus and regulus being besties and accidentally getting into dating Sirius and James without anyone knowing they’re dating each other’s best friend/brother

Scent of the Moon a series, when Sirius loses his shit and announces to his parents that fuck them, he’s gay and fuck them, Walburga loses her shit and tosses him to Bellatrix who tosses him to Grayback. Sirius escapes barely alive and with a furry little problem. But, all turns out well. Regulus is so very lovely in here and by so very lovely I mean a bossy little shit whose love language is secretly protecting Sirius from afar

and they were soulmates by Propheciesanddreams (propheciesanddreams) wrong number AU, i love those

Dorlene's cute! I like Gryffindor!Marlene and Slytherin!Dorcas tripping over their words and feet because they're disaster lesbians for each other. But also if we're doing canon Hogwarts era I need them to get together with minimal drama. Leave the angst for Jegulus, these girls were snogging behind tapestries from the day one. They're a well-estabilished pairing, and I love that for them. (I don't really read them-centric fics tho. I'm character-oriented and the character who made my head turn was Regulus, so I mostly read them as side pairing.)

For Jily I'd say You Belong With Me or Our Song or Mine or by Taylor Swift... basically any Taylor from that era xD Also Toulavá by SEBASTIAN btw Daddy's Lessons by Beyoncé is 100% a Lily song to me

What is the point of RoseKiller if they're not unhinged? Actually ask me for a RoseKiller rant the next time. I've got Feelings. But their songs are like... The Ready Set by Killer, Flesh by Simon Curtis but the biting is metaphorical and romantic, this Für Elise remix, and eSeMeS is for them falling apart after Regulus' death :D

Fave Marvel ships! Tony/Bucky has some delishious shit, like it was a whole era, Bucky/Sam is fun, Tony/Loki fit together really well like oh my god I LOVE Tony supporting Loki through giving a middlefinger to Odin. Tony/Rhodey is SO underappreciated; every time I see someone call Steve Tony's best friend I go feral bite bite bite kill kill kill. I need to go and have a look if there are any Harley Keener/Shuri fanfics, they literally only ocurred to me just now but it could be interesting...

The ship asks

[queen-scribbles]

Of Accomplices

Have some 11-(Jowan) and 12-(Trinne) year-old shenanigans from one of my favorite brotps as I get their fics over here in chronological order. :D

"Shh! They'll hear you!" 

 Trinne slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her next giggle at Jowan's warning as the sound of boots tromped past and the two of them scooted further into their hiding place. A small titter escaped the girl's lips despite her best efforts. Jowan shot her one of Those Looks, which she could barely see in the dim light, and clapped his hand over hers.

 "What possessed you to do something like that in the first place?" he hissed in a barely audible whisper. 

Trinne just shrugged in reply, eyes dancing with laughter over the hands covering her mouth. I was bored and it was fun.

Jowan opened his mouth to press the issue, but shut it again, blue eyes widening in apprehension as the sound of clanking footsteps echoed through the room. Both of them scrunched even farther into the alcove where they had taken refuge, as if trying to melt into the wall. 

It was a tighter fit with the two of them than Trinne remembered, and she realized they'd outgrown another hiding place. The fact made her want to groan in despair--who decided twelve year olds needed to grow so fast, anyway?--but she bit it back. The approaching templar had come into view, grease still dripping from her armor in places, and a very  sour expression on her face as she stalked into the room. 

Trinne and Jowan exchanged worried looks as the irate woman strode closer. Maker, please don't let her find us. Pleasepleaseplease...  Their free hands met and clasped, both immediately squeezing with white-knuckled intensity.

 "I know you're in 'ere!" the templar growled, shoving her disheveled hair out of her eyes and glaring around the room. "You can't ‘ide forever!"

Watch me,  Trinne retorted mentally, heart pounding with adrenaline as the blonde surveyed the room more slowly. She glanced over at Jowan again and his eyes telegraphed sheer trepidation. He wasn't enjoying this at all. Unlike her.

 With measured steps, the templar began circling the room. "I will find you, you young monsters! There's only so many places to 'ide in 'ere!" And she was being thorough, shoving aside tapestries, looking under the study tables. Jowan's grip on Trinne's hand tightened until she could practically feel her finger bones pinching together. She nudged him sharply with her elbow and he let up a little. The blonde templar was getting closer. The alcove was a good hiding place, but with them being all gangly limbs and several extra inches of height right now, it was far from perfect. She very well might find them, and Trinne did not relish the thought of the 'disciplinary action' that would await them.

I should've left Jowan out of it this time...Trinne scolded herself. Too late now, though. Maybe--if she catches us, of course--I can convince her it was my idea and I made him help. That's mostly true, anyway...  Jowan was almost always an accomplice to her various pranks and mischief, with varying levels of alacrity or reluctance. This one had taken a fair bit of cajoling, not to mention promising him her dessert for the next two weeks--which was some form of highway robbery--to get his help. Hopefully the templar would buy that excuse and maybe Jowan wouldn't get in so much trouble. 

An armored hand slapped against the wall no more than a foot away from their hiding place, and both apprentices nearly shrieked in surprise as they shrank even further into the shadowed recess. 

"Elspeth!" The voice from the hall captured the blonde's attention and she spun to face its owner. 

"What?!" she demanded irritably. 

"Knight-Commander told me to get you. That blond bastard from the Anderfels made a break for it again." 

Elspeth swore under her breath. "Why'd he even wind up here?" she groused, moving away from the wall. "I'm comin', I'm comin'." 

Trinne and Jowan held their breath and prayed as the woman's gaze slid over the room one last time. For a full, eternal five minutes after she left the room, neither dared pull in a full breath. 

Finally convinced the danger was past, Trinne let go of Jowan's hand and uncovered her mouth. letting out a peal of triumphant laughter as they tumbled free of the excessively cozy hiding place. "Thank the Maker for Anders," she crowed, raking her fingers through her hair, which only further ruined her ponytail. 

"Trinne, what were you thinking?!" Jowan demanded, glancing nervously at the half open door.  

Trinne shrugged. "She's new. I needed to, y'know, initiate her if she's gonna be here a while." 

"And you had  to land her flat on her back to do that?!" he groused. 

"Well, no, I wasn't planning on that," she admitted, toying with her ponytail. "I think I overdid the grease spell..." 

"You think?!" Jowan groaned. "You definitely did. D'you have any idea how much trouble we'll be in when she gets back and tells the First Enchanter?" He went a shade paler--which Trinne wouldn't have thought possible. "Or worse, the  Knight-C'mmander?" He rubbed one hand over his face in despair. "Why do I let you talk me into things like this?" 

"B'cause I'm your best friend an' I promised you my desserts for two whole weeks," Trinne replied with a teasing smirk. 

"I-I can't..." Jowan stopped, gnawed on his bottom lip for a second or two, and then tried again. "I can't keep doin' stuff like this with you, Trinne." "

Whaddya mean?" she asked, frowning. Does he not wanna be friends anymore? 'Cause he's my best friend an' I don't wanna lose him. Maker, he's like the brother I never got from Mum. I can't lose him, I'd rather die!

 "I-I don't like gettin' in trouble. I don't wanna help with...this stuff anymore." He gestured toward the hall, indicating things like the prank his best friend had just perpetrated against Ser Elspeth, the Circle's newest templar. 

"Jowan..." Sweet Maker, he really doesn't wanna be friends anymore!

She must have sounded as frantic as she felt, because Jowan promptly looked horrified. "No, no, no, Trinne, that's not it, not at all!" he promised, somehow knowing--as always--exactly what she was thinking. "I'm not sayin' I don't wanna be friends. I'd never...  You're the best friend I've had in my entire life, I'd never, ever want that to change, no matter how much trouble you get me in." He paused to take a breath and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "But... could you maybe... find someone else to be the sidekick for your pranks?"

Oh, thank the Maker...  Trinne sighed in relief. She linked her fingers between his as they headed for the hallway, giving his hand a squeeze. "I think I can manage that." 

Jowan looked mildly skeptical. "Promise?" 

She grinned. "Promise." 

It was the only promise she ever made him that she didn't keep.

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

That promise only lasts a month, btw. Jowan shortly after resigns himself to “getting in trouble” going hand in hand with “being Trinne’s best friend” and since the latter is worth it, he deals with the former.  And yes, yes Trinne is indeed even more of a drama queen at 12 than she is all grown up. Part of what makes her fun.

[thoseofgreatambition]

someone

Request: where y/n and George have been snogging every time they see eachother “in secret” (is a secret because they aren’t dating and are more of a “thing” btw they are best friends) they avoid the fact that they’re in love with eachother until George gets a little jealous because some guy in y/n’s class flirts with her. – @bailando-en-la-luna

Request: heyo can you do a george weasley imagine in which reader is the shy, quiet sort but one day in the library while she's carrying books to her chair some idiot (e.g. mclaggen) starts harassing her and she slaps him in the face with a book (thick hardcover, injury 10/10) and george is flabbergasted? thank you! 💖 –anon

Warnings: none except for lots of making out? Not pg-13 though

Wordcount: 1.3K

Description: Y/N and George have an odd relationship—they aren’t actually together, but neither are dating anyone else. To everyone else however, aside from their closest friends, they’re simply best friends. However, when McLaggen flirts with Y/N—George wonders if this system is a good one, anymore. 

a/n: I tweaked it a little bit? McLaggen won’t get injured, but I hope you still like it! 

You were like gravity—George found himself constantly pulled towards you, even when his friends said that this probably wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t help himself, not really, even when deep down he knew it was a good reason. All it took was a little twist of a smile from you, and he ached for you. 

Which was probably how you two had ended up in this situation. It seemed so sudden when it started—you’d made a joke when you two were talking in an alcove about people thinking the wrong thing about you two. He’d cupped your cheek to mime being in a relationship, but before he knew it you were staring at him with flushed cheeks and parted lips, pupils blown wide. 

Tentatively your hand reached up and went to the back of his neck, playing with the soft hair there. 

After that he was gone. Completely entranced. You two had crashed together, and you’d let out the smallest whimper that made his knees nearly buckle beneath him. Your lips were so soft against his and when he’d pressed you against the wall you’d fit so well against him that he felt light headed. 

There’d been silence after you’d broken apart, and you’d stared at him flushed, with red swollen lips. You’d stared at him for what seemed like forever—heart beating out of your chest.

Oddly, the first thing you thought was that you liked his hair that way—knowing you’d been the one to mess it up. It felt strangely cold without him against you, and you knew that things weren’t going to be the same from now on. You’d loved him for almost a year at that point, and you weren’t sure what this meant. 

Honestly, you were afraid to ask. 

Perhaps that was why you’d asked, a bit cowardly, “Kiss me again.” 

Anything to put off having to ask that question. 

Thankfully, George had been all too happy to comply. 

Thus started your new relationship. Something between best friends and dating. You’d felt too strange to accept a date from someone else, and George hadn’t either. 

Fred had told him this wasn’t a good idea. That he ought to just ask you out. That obviously you were going to say yes, and if he didn’t soon someone else was going to make their move on either one of you and it was going to get hurtful and awkward very quickly. 

George had ignored his brother’s advice, something he now regretted. Especially as you two sat across from each other, studying at the library. 

Well, if studying stood for chatting softly and not opening your books. 

Then McLaggen had come up, leaned down next to you, and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Morning beautiful.” 

There was a quirk in your eyebrow—you and Cormac were decent friends. Toeing the line between acquaintances.  Was he flirting with you? 

Well, he did that quite often, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised. Ignoring the arm on your shoulders and not noticing George’s expression, you continued, “Morning Cormac. How’s your day been?” 

“It’ll be better if you agree to go out with me.” 

Well you probably shouldn’t be too surprised by that one. “No, Cormac. We aren’t going to go out.” 

He frowned a bit, as a couple of second years listening in from down the table giggled. “Why not?” 

“I don’t have feelings for you.” 

“Is there someone else?” 

You fought the instinct to look towards George—knowing your secret would immediately become known. Without hesitation you shook your head. “No. I just don’t want to date you. George and I have to study—go head off. I know you’ve got class soon.” 

He frowned at you and you rolled your eyes, shrugging off his arm. When he tried to talk you shook your head again, “It’s not happening. Move along.” 

Staring pointedly at your book until he moved along, you sighed and looked up towards George, who was staring at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Though it certainly didn’t look happy. “I didn’t know he fancied you.” 

“Honestly I just thought he was a flirt, you know how he is George. He’s in your house after all.” 

That didn’t seem to help. George couldn’t quell the jealous feeling in his stomach. Certainly not when he was stuck on the fact that you’d said there wasn’t anyone else. 

“So there’s no one else, huh?” 

There it was—the thing that was going to bring this all toppling down. “What’d you want me to say? That you and I have been snogging in broom closets for the past four months? Only Fred knows about that—do you really think Cormac’s the best guy to add to the next line on the list?” 

“I just thought I was someone.” 

“This isn’t—“ 

George seemed to be working through something in his head, before starting to pack up his things. Why did Fred have to be right? Part of him wanted to be angry or upset but if he was honest he couldn’t manage the energy for it. Besides, what was he supposed to do? Shout at you for denying a secret relationship? 

He wasn’t that guy. 

He’d never been that guy. 

Your voice was soft, “George please…” 

“I gotta get to class. Fred needs my notes.” His throat felt tight, especially when he saw how scared you looked right now. ‘I’ll see you later.” 

That was it—you didn’t manage to see George until the next night, and that had required quite a bit of legwork that had failed. Honestly you considered fighting someone if it turned out he and Fred had snuck out to Hogsmeade after classes. 

Which was true—you’d seen them coming out of the entryway past the curfew. “George!” your voice carried quite loud in the silent hallway and you heard a far off meow. 

“Dammit—“ Fred frowned between you and George, “I’m not getting detention because of you two. C’mon. Follow me.” 

You mouthed a silent apology to both twins, scurrying behind both until you’d found your way behind a tapestry to hide until Mrs. Norris passed. When she did, you flushed as Fred looked between you and George, “Thank you for not snogging while I’m here. I appreciate it.” 

“Fred.” George’s tone was rather terse, and he was rewarded with Fred taking the bag of candy away from him. 

“I’ll just nip up to the dormitory and put these away, right? You two have fun.” 

Just like that, Fred was gone, leaving you and George alone behind the tapestry. Very close together. 

Normally, you’d be pulling him into you right now but that probably wasn’t wise. Nor did it seem like a healthy way to solve things. 

It was time to be brave. Though it was not your strong suit it seems. 

“Look—you’re someone. I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s just we started,” you frowned, unable to define what you two had, “Had. When we did I didn’t know what to do. And I’m sorry for that. If you don’t want to date I totally get—“ 

You were cut off by George wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against the wall. Instinctively you threaded your hands through his hair, another whine leaving your lips. It was hard to hear what he was saying when you pulled apart, his lips pressing against every inch of your neck. Finally though you managed to figure out what he was saying. 

“I love you.” 

The grin on your face was almost painful, but you couldn’t make yourself care. This was too wonderful. 

“Yeah?” 

He chuckled and looked up at you, “Of course—are you honestly surprised at this point?” he punctuated the sentence with a kiss, before grinning wide, “So you know what this means right?” 

“We’re dating now?”

“Exactly. I’m also going to prank the hell out of McLaggen tomorrow.” 

TAG LIST: @vanityasvoriaclover @fainting-fancy @whyarentyoulaughingj @rexster10 @oh-the-snowinthemoonlight @hermione-who @geeksareunique @phantomhive-shadow @thephelpstwins @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @siriuslyimmoony @yourslytherinprincess @bloomweasley @gobletofweasley @stillwater20-blog @dramatic-and-young @starlitmoony @blusnowflakee @l-am-tired @lovelaughlivesmilebright @wizardingworldwaitforme @imaginethis-st @xinyourdreamsx 

GEORGE TAG LIST: @slytherinsouldetective @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem 

[tauers-go-dutch]

Italy: like putting on an old boot

Since losing my passport in Madrid, I had a two-week window before our next trip to get a new one. I ended up going to the US Consulate in Amsterdam, which was an adventure all in its own. If you picture the DMV, but on ‘roids, that is about the experience of applying for a passport abroad.  After getting a new passport photo, I got to wait outside the building on the literal coldest day of the year for an hour before being ushered through security in order to wait for another two hours interspersed with quick trips up to the counter to explain that I don’t know what happened to my passport because I lost it and then being chastised for losing my passport because I must look too young to possibly be able to comprehend the gravity of importance such a document.  Oh, and I had to pay $140.  But luckily the US is very efficient at printing rush order passports and it arrived the following Friday, just in time for our trip to Rome.  But of course, there would be one more hiccup in the story- the city lost power on Friday afternoon when I planned to pick up my passport.  So the Consulate did not have power… or at least the backup generator did not power the whole building.  Luckily, the guards were able to just grab the newly printed passports (I was not the only one trying to pick one up that day), and I was on my way.

Once we got into Rome, the same feeling of joy I had from my first visit washed over me, and I think I had a smile on the whole weekend. Rome is a huge city, so it is crowded, busy, smelly, full of trash, a bit rundown, etc.  However, I love it for the amazing art, culture, and food.  What can I say, Rome was the center of Western culture for much of history, and for much of my Catholic upbringing (and my brief stint as a Latin nerd), so it generates some degree of awe.

We threw in our coin, so I guess we’ll be back again

We checked into our hotel, which was across from some state building.  When checking us in, the clerk said if we take photos from the window, the state employees might think we are spies and send people over to the hotel to investigate. I’m pretty sure he was joking?  Mariah may have tested the theory the next evening after a few drinks.  

We went to dinner that evening and tried some authentic Roman dishes, including an artichoke sampler platter. To be honest, steamed artichokes and butter was one of my sister’s favorite meals growing up, but they were never one of mine. But the Roman style artichokes blew me away. They are originally prepared by Jewish immigrants, but were quickly adopted by the Roman locals, so much so that Rome is one of the largest artichoke producers in the world. The Jewish version is lightly battered and fried, while the Roman version is steamed, and both are incredible. I also had pasta al’amatriciana (tomato sauce with pork cheek) and Mariah had ravioli before we split an incredible tiramisu.  Before calling it a night we walked over to the Trevi fountain and threw in a coin.  I guess we’ll be back one day.

Magical artichokes

We had some super delicious pastries in our hotel the next morning before heading to St. Peter’s Basilica. After taking some initial photos, I was talked into upgrading our museum tickets to a guided tour.  While this is expensive, it is worth it- the guide is great, but you’re really paying to skip the 3+ hour line to see the basilica from the museum (and Sistine Chapel).  We learned why the Vatican is its own country (long, convoluted story short- the modern church never wanted to join the united Italy, and the arrangement stuck- helps when you have your own private army). The Vatican treasures are as incredible as they are extensive. We saw Greek/Roman gods, human personifications of the Tiber river, supposed tombs of Helena and Constantina (mother and daughter of Constantine), maps of the world, paintings and tapestries for days, and a Roman Zach Galifianakis. But this was all a lead in to the Sistine Chapel, of Michelangelo fame. Of course there are no photos, but the Creation of Adam and the Last Judgment are every bit as amazing as hyped. We then fast tracked to the staggeringly beautiful St. Peter’s basilica.  We saw the tombs of the popes (St. John Paul II has his own chapel on the main floor) and the Pieta, but my favorite is the altar from Bernini.  Just look at the pictures.

St. Peter’s Basilica

Is that you, Zach?

Pieta

Pope JPIII!

Bernini’s altar

After a lunch of arancini (rice balls- I might not be able to eat the ones at Cinzetti’s ever again) and cacao e pepe (literally cheese and pepper- basically Italian mac ‘n cheese for adults), we set out to explore the city.  We saw Castle Sant’Angelo (the pope fortress/Church of Illumination), Piazza Navona, The Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and so much gelato.  Eventually, we met some friends who also happened to be in Rome, and had dinner and a shared a few bottles of wine.  

Gelato number two - sadly, we have no evidence of number one

The Pantheon

These two like their Italian wine

Brent and Christine happened to be in town

The next morning, we packed in some more sightseeing with the Altar of the Fatherland (Mussolini funded statue dedicated to the united Italy), Palatine Hill, the Capitoline Wolf, and Turtle Fountain (which does not have live turtles in the fountain). We ventured to the Jewish quarter of town, and had more marvelous artichokes, pasta, and possibly some of the best table bread ever (I had to take a picture it was so good).  We went to a beer bar and enjoyed some brews (Italy has some good breweries), before going over to the hip Trastevere neighborhood and having more food (including a tremendous prosciutto sandwich which I would not shut up about, more arancini and a pizza) and beers.  We needed to get back to the hotel, and decided to walk by the Colosseum and the Circus Maximus on the way.  Unfortunately, the sky opened up and we were drenched in ten minutes… so we made a quick pit stop for more gelato to let the rain pass.  There are worse things.

Remus and Romulus!

No live turtles

Mariah’s happy place (Gelato three of four?)

...and mine (prosciutto sandwich)

Sometimes I can get her to drink a beer

But it generally involves bribery with margherita pizza

Aaaaand it’s pouring outside

Rain keeps the tourists away - most of them, anyways

Are you not entertained?

All that’s left of the Circus Maximus

We packed a ton into our Rome weekend, so in Florence (the following weekend) we were a bit more relaxed. We arrived late on Friday so our adventure really just started on Saturday morning. Our first stop was to the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, which is better known for ‘il Duomo,’ or the massive dome that adorns the church and dominates the city skyline.  It was a fairly easy climb, but the vertigo is real when you are on the interior of the church and looking down. But you are rewarded with amazing art reminiscent of Dante’s Inferno (Florence is his home town, btw) and panoramic views of the city.  

I hope you’re not claustrophobic... or afraid of heights!

Afterwards, we put our name down at Trattoria Mario for lunch, and killed some time at the markets before our table was ready. I don’t think you can see more leather outside of a Vegas S&M convention, but to be honest it is really cool.  We stopped into a market and bought some pastries- creampuff for me and a chocolate cookie for Mariah- to hold us over. Luckily we did not have to wait for lunch long.  Trattoria Mario is regarded as the best restaurant in town, and is only open for lunch. The place is tiny, and you will be seated at a two-person table with two other people and sit on stools that are made for toddlers. The bread is disappointing, but the food is marvelous. The place is meat-centric, and their specialty is the classic bistecca alla fiorentina, which is a super thick, bloody porterhouse steak. The frites were good too.

After lunch, we crossed the famed Ponte Vecchio to the other side of the city.  We walked up to the Piazzale Michelangelo for more magnificent views of Florence.  We walked along the river and stopped by a small tea shop, and sampled some of their goodies. We walked out with some good stuff, and an aspiration to become a tea sommelier and to (keep) travel(ing) the world. We had a rest at a dessert shop before finding dinner (easier said than done, since our first choice for dinner just never opened the restaurant for service- no notice posted physically or online), and closed the night with more beers. It was a bit early, but we have been traveling a lot.  

It was a pretty creepy sculpture...

We slept in, but woke to go to the Galleria dell’Accademia, which is a museum that has nothing of much significance except for a little piece from Michelangelo called the David. Before seeing the main event, we did explore some of the other parts of the museum, including the musical instruments and some religious paintings.  Two asides- first, we saw a pair of little girls (say seven) on a private guide with their parents looking at the musical instruments and throwing out some serious knowledge of the Medicis and the Renaissance art movement (the girl was a self-proclaimed art history buff, and I believe it!). Second, some of the art made to explain the dogma of Christianity is as bizarre (though simultaneously stylish) as the Thai paintings we saw in Bangkok. Seriously, if I didn’t have knowledge of the immaculate conception, I would have thought Christians believed that an old cloud god shot pigeons at a sleeping woman while some creepy dude with wings looked on approvingly. 

But onto the David.  It is every bit as masterful as everyone says.  The story is unbelievable too.  Just think, some 27 year-old just said, ‘hey, can I use that chunk of marble over there? I wanna make something for you.’  And then the Florentine people were graced with one of the most incredible works of art in history is ridiculous.  Michelangelo was TWENTYSEVEN!!!  Oh, and he made the Pieta before that (pictured above, from Rome).

Just look at him! 

Afterwards we just relaxed. We had some pizza, coffee, macarons and beers. I did grab a snack- a lampredotto.  There was a stand just outside of our hotel which filled up during lunch with locals, so I figured I’d try it. The sandwich is made from spiced lamb intestine, and it’s pretty good. I mean, it’s no prosciutto sandwich, but its good. We did make our outside the Uffizi gallery before leaving, and took in some of the city’s most famous patrons before saying goodbye.

I throw my hands up in the air sometimes... singing ayo... 

NBD, just our country’s namesake

Last minute snack

Italy is superb.  It is a country with so many different layers of nuance and culture.  Sometimes I feel people boil it down to pizza and statues, but it’s so much more.  Each region, from Rome, Florence, Venice, Naples, Sicily, Milan, etc. is so different from the next. The food, outside of the tourist traps, is every bit of what makes Italian fare heralded as some of the world’s best. The culture and history is dense and rich- just think, Rome was the center of the western world through two different points of time for two different reasons. Sure, Italy has its problems and frustrations like we all do, but it is a country I will enjoy returning to time and time again.

[patchworktail]

ITS 4:30 AM AND I DONT FEEL LIKE SLEEPING so I’m gonna do this meme that i got tagged for twiCE and totally forgot to do til now!!!! (i had 2 dig through your blogs to find them omg)

ANYWAY i was tagged by both @mooitstimdrake​ and @cynessie​ (I MISS U BOTH BTW ❤)

RULES: Share 11 facts about yourself, answer 11 questions provided by the tagger, tag 11 awesome people and leave 11 questions for them to answer!

(I’m gonna skip tagging people/asking 11 questions - 1) because I’m lazy 2) because a lot of people who I would tag either have already been tagged or woN’T DO IT and 3) I have to answer two sets of 11 questions anyway so I’ll let one of those sets take the place of my 11 questions!!)

11 Facts

I was supposed to leave to move into my college 3 days ago but since my college is in Savannah they pushed off move-in/orientation for a weEK BECAUSE OF HURRICANE IRMA AND I’M STILL UPSET/DISAPPOINTED

That being said I’m about to start as a college freshman at art school, planning on majoring in animation! :D

I binged all of Buzzfeed Unsolved in like 2 days and I fuckin LOVE IT

Also BNHA is like my current main obsession???? I fell in love w that anime and uhhhh I’d Die For My Kids

I almost never use skype anymore - I’m always on Discord now (mutuals may add me just message me if you want my tag :3c)

I loooove creating OCs and my main OC is a forest elf named Rally and he’s precious and I LOVE HIM AND COULD TALK ABOUT HIM FOR HOURS (also my best friend @/harpxer and I have a huge ongoing rp with him and her mountain elf oc, Kahl!! they’re really gay)

Hmmm fun fact I guess I’ve been involved with internet communities since I was 10 years old and I made my very first internet friend when I was 10 and we’re still great friends and talk p much every day to this day (hi @/fiishr)

I want a tattoo super bad but idk what I’d geT

I worked at a jewelry engraving stand at an amusement park this summer and one night I accidentally gave myself a 1st degree burn on my finger from the hot glue gun and it hurt So Bad

I had my graduation party this July and it was really fun but the best part was when 14 of us played this giant game of spoons and it got really intense, made worse by people randomly screaming during it, and then we collectively decided to blast hardcore rap music from the speakers and Let Me Tell You i have not been involved in a more stressful card game in my LIFE

I’ll always always always fall for the hero/happy character/protagonist basically....idk what it is about me but I’m so Predictable...I love cute optimistic brave characters who just wanna do Right.....I don’t cARE IF PEOPLE THINK THEY’RE BORING I THINK THEY’RE PERFECT AND AMAZIGN AND I LOVE THEM

AS FOR AN EXTRA 12TH FACT ABOUT ME AS U CAN SEE I WRITE WAY TOO MUCH AND ALSO I’M THE BIGGEST OVERSHARER E V E R IT’S SO BAD SOMEONE STOP ME

ANYWAY ONTO THE QUESTIONS :3c

@mooitstimdrake​‘s Questions:

If you were to make a new blog dedicated to one single thing (fandom, hobby/activity, etc) what would it be? Honestly, right at the moment probably BNHA!!!! it’s legit my most recent big obsession and I love it?? so much???

If you could have any kind of animal as a pet, what would you have? A RACCOON!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM SOSOSOSOSOS MUCH and some people actually do have them as pets! They can be difficult though but WORTH IT

Who was your favorite teacher and why were they your favorite? OH BOY......I’m gonna say it’s a tie between my AP studio art teacher and my AP US government teacher from this past year, my senior year! My AP art teacher because our class was super tiny, 12 kids, and it really felt like a family?? She was a-okay with letting us all goof around and say weird shit, she was really chill and funny and like. part teacher, part friend, which was always nice. As for my AP gov teacher, he was SO. FUCKING. FUNNY. OH MAN. NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE he just like? put up with SO MUCH? we had some real character kids in that class and my teacher’s reactions were HILARIOUS. he had a sarcastic streak too so his responses were equally as funny when someone did something weird. He would say the funniest stuff just ask @/harpxer I would tell her so many stories from that class sohboshrb. Aside from the humor that class was really interesting, and he’s a really good, invested teacher - he wanted us to learn, he’s super passionate about government and history, and he always started off each class with 2 current events which was really nice and helped me learn more about things happening in the world too!!! overall that was like my fav non-art class I’ve ever taken!!!!

What’s your guilty pleasure (and I’m challenging you not to say some kind of food)? HMMMMM. Honestly I’m gonna go ahead and say really cheesy or lame movies/shows (like, Disney channel movies, dumb shows - like the one summer I watched all of Glee LOL, stuff like that). Like yeah I know 90% of it is terRIBLE but it’s still amusing/lighthearted stuff that makes me happy KLSDJVLSDHB

Favorite pizza topping? EXTRA CHEESE IF THAT COUNTS, if not then pepperoni!!

What’s the last thing you bought (that wasn’t food)? I’ve actually been buying a lot the past few weeks in prep for college/spending a little money for ONCE since I worked all summer. I got a bunch of boring stuff but the things I’m most excited about are: two posters I got for my dorm (The Office is one and one is Lord Huron), a giant wall tapestry (it’s Up themed!!!), tWO BNHA/POKEMON CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY AND EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THEM I START CRYING BC THEYRE SO CUTE, and oh my GOD I BOUGHT THIS GIANT PILLOW FROM TARGET AND IT IS THE SINGLE SOFTEST THING I’VE EVER FELT AND IT’S HUGE AND IT IMMEDIATELY BECAME MY #1 COMFORT OBJECT AND TOP FIVE FAV THINGS IVE EVER BOUGHT!!!!!! I guess MOST recently though I just bought Clip Studio Paint online today (art program) since it’s on sale for 50% off and I’ve heard great things about it!

What upcoming movies/tv shows are you looking forward to? UHHHHH as for movies... justice league part 1, the incredibles 2, kingsman 2, the neW POKEMON MOVIE I CHOOSE YOU, probably a lot more I can’t remember rn. AS FOR SHOWS HMMM I’m...excited for the next season of the good place and izombie, and oh I’m excited for the punisher netflix show!! and the next season of voltron of COURSE!!! and next season of stranger things!! probably more I’m forgetting too tbh

Any recommendations (this could be anything just throw your best pitch at me)? JFISDJKLBJ I DON’T KNOW OMG tbh rachel you watch a lot of the same things I do already LMAOOO

What’s your favorite thing to wear that you own? OH FUCK I DUNNO HMMM I really like wearing my various leggings and scarves, but as like a Single Item....I like wearing....uhhhh I have this giANT sweater like it’s WAY too big for me but it’s so COMFY and I love it. I also love wearing my Star Labs sweatshirt bc it’s soft and comfortable

What was your first pet? my cat!!! we took her in as a stray kitten living in our backyard when I was like. 2 or 3 and so we’ve basically had her my whole life!!

If you could learn any language, what would it be? UHHHHHH honestly probably spanish - I took it 4 straight years and was okay at it in class but one year went by with me not taking it and I forgot everything LOOOL I’m...bad....at languages....

@cynessie‘s Questions:

Where is the coolest place you’ve ever been? I haven’t been many cool places :( I guess the coolest isssss I dunno it depends? Lake George is where I go on vacation every year, I LOVE NYC, I love Savannah too and it’s where I’m gonna be for college so?? ?? ?  ? I’VE NEVER BEEN OUT OF THE COUNTRY AND I’M SAD BUT I’M POOR AND CAN’T AFFORD IT

What was the first thing you remember wanting to be when you grew up? veterinarian!! 

Look to your right. What do you see? a dirty plate on my desk, my bed just past that, and my CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY THAT ARE SO CUTE I CRY EVERY TIME I SEE THEM

What are you procrastinating on? ajkldjboidj lik e 4 art commissions,,,, and 7 MAP parts,,,, and my pre-work for 2 of my classes,,,,,,,and cleaning my room,,,, and sending thank-you notes to relatives,,, SOMEONE KICK MY ASS AND MAKE ME DO SHIT

Which family member are you closest too and what is their name? UHHHH.... I guess my younger brother Luke? or maybe my mom? I’m not on bad terms with anyone though, I love both my older brothers too and we all have a good sibling relationship I just talk more with my younger bro I think - second closest would be with my second older brother Connor!

What’s the last song you listened to? I’m listening to Ultralife by Oh Wonder right now :3c I’ve been on a huUUGE Oh Wonder kick lately!!

What do you generally carry in your bag/pockets when you go out? my wallet (w my license and money and debit card and all), travel size lotion, phone, and chap stick!!

What is one thing you are excited for? FINALLY GETTING TO COLLEGE NEXT WEEK AND STARTING CLASSES FJIODFHINBDFHBNSBO

Do you believe in ghosts? I’m gonna hesitantly say YES but I’m not 100% convinced I don’t think

What is a skill you want to learn? MAYBE THIS IS WEIRD but I think learning how to act would be kinda neat. On a more realistic note I wish I could learn to exercise without dying

Tell me a joke. I’M BAD AT JOKES DON’T DO THIS TO ME NESSIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO YEAH THAT’S ALL FOLKS it’s 5am now...Nice..... :’) I love my ability to stay up obscenely late while also getting Nothing Done JLSDNVDHAGHVDLAK