#the reason is one word: tchaikovsky

[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]

[kingstarkingslay]

Platonic Moonwater Headcannon

Remus was the first friend Regulus made when he joined Hogwarts. Remus knew Sirius and Regulus weren’t on speaking terms ever since Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor and about the abuse the both of them experience at home so he takes the first chance he can get to befriend Regulus. The both of them get along really easily cause they both have a lot of common interests, majorly in books but Regulus only knows wizarding books so Remus starts introducing him to muggle books - literature and poetry. Regulus absolutely falls in love with them and they spend hours talking about them. They’d share notes on them.By now Sirius knows that the reason why Remus spends so much time in the library is cause he’s hanging out with his brother and he loves it cause now he knows his brother is in safe hands. Plus this gives him the chance to keep tabs on his brother through Remus.

Remus and Regulus start confiding in each other. In fact Regulus was the first one to know about Remus’s crush on Sirius. Remus finds out that Regulus loves playing the piano even though it was something his parents forced him to learn and that they actually have a Grand Piano back at Grimmauld Place but Regulus only knows Wizarding Piano Compositions cause that’s what his tutors taught him and you know what his family thinks about muggles….. so Remus then starts researching everything he can about Muggle composers- Beethoven and Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Bach , and he tells Regulus all about them. Once during the holidays Remus found a book called “ The Greatest Pianists ” at a bookstore so he buys it and brings it back with him to Hogwarts and lends Regulus the book, promising him that next time he’d look for a book with piano pieces ( or music sheets ) in them so that Regulus could maybe learn Muggle compositions.

But Regulus never got to return The Greatest Pianists because that was the year Sirius ran away and after that Regulus closed up completely. He stopped hanging out with Remus because of his anger at Sirius, even though he really missed his time with Remus. Remus knew Regulus was avoiding him but he didn’t push it cause he knew the younger Black brother was in pain.

So whenever Regulus was back at Grimmauld Place , he’d lock his bedroom door, take the book out of the little secret compartment he had on the floor under his bed and read it and cry cause he missed Remus. He missed being able to talk to him and spend his time with him. So he’d cry over all the people he pushed outta his life.

But then the letters started coming.

Letters written in a familiar handwriting.

Remus’s handwriting.

In the envelope were two pieces of paper.

One was a small piece of paper with the words “ I thought you’d find these interesting ” written in Remus’s handwriting.

And the other- A music sheet to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata

Regulus immediately runs to the Grand Piano , rests the music sheet on the piano rack and starts playing the piece. By the time he’s done with it he’s in tears.

The letters don’t stop. Everyday during the holidays he wakes up to an owl dropping a different music sheet on his table and he’s rush to his piano and start playing them. By the end of the day he’d have learnt the piece by heart and could play it without looking at the music sheet.

His parents never found out about the letters cause Remus never signed his name on any of them.

More importantly, the letters were hidden in that secret compartment under his bed, folded neatly in between the pages of The Greatest Pianists.

[icanseethefuture333]

hello! can you do stray kids hyunjin’s ideal type??? thankss

Hyunjin from Stray Kids' ideal type

Qualities

(channeled song: Cherry Bomb by NCT 127)

Hyunjin is attracted to someone who has big dreams and has the yearning desire to achieve them. Someone who has a burning passion for life and willpower to turn their dreams into reality. He also admires a person who has an abundant mindset and the innate sense of creativity. Hyunjin could enjoy dating someone who is also interested in the arts (acting, dancing, poet, singer, etc). It is important that they have a close relationship with their friends as well or has a group of friends that they bond with. Hyunjin in particular is someone who values his friendships dearly and has a strong attachment to them. So if he were to date someone who would betray their friends for an opportunity or ditches them just to spend time with a partner, Hyunjin would be turned off by this. He greatly appreciates someone who never goes back on their word and has friends that support one another. He could also judge someone by their said friend group "Birds of a feather flock together". Hyunjin cherishes his relationship with the other members of Stray Kids as well, so if his partner could get along with them. This would make him very happy

(channeled song: Wannabe by Spice Girls)

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends

(Gotta get with my friends)

Make it last forever, friendship never ends

If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give

(You've got to give)

Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is"

Personality

Hyunjin would love, not like, a partner who is confident and knows their self worth. He dislikes when people act like a "groupie" around him or a person who puts themselves down for a partner's approval. For example, if someone were to say "OMGEEE step on me daddy I'm nothing compared to you 😫" Hyunjin would just be like "...wtf? 💀". He finds it tasteless and believes it shows a lack of class. Hyunjin admires a person who shows self respect and has a sense of dignity. Although, he does not mind someone who is shy or nervous (he might actually like that oop 👀😏). Hyunjin enjoys teasing people he finds attractive and is enamored with their reactions. If someone were to actually hold eye contact with him and continue to engage with the conversation instead of pulling away, Hyunjin would fall head over heels for that person immediately ("I folded, I folded, I folded, I folded, I-"). The reason behind this is because it shows security and bravery despite being nervous or feeling under pressure. They would pass the test so to say in his book (I remembered the door test from A Bronx Tale so if you're unfamiliar with that movie go watch that specific scene). (channeled song: Romeo & Juliet by Tchaikovsky) I am getting a vision of him puckering his lips and I also heard kissy noises. So Hyunjin would become like Pepe Le Pew (minus the scandalous behavior 💀) with his partner if he were to experience this interaction. "Madam, j'taime 💋 *continues to profess love in french and repeatedly kiss their face*". Basically Hyunjin finds a person who is noble, charming, friendly, creative, secure within themselves, and "princess-like" (brat tamer?) to be his ideal type. Someone who is sweet but can also stand up for themselves when necessary. A little bit of enemies to lovers dynamic would add to the spice. Hyunjin is very dramatic tbh he is definitely a hopeless romantic.

Physical traits

As I was shuffling I got this aroma of "bubble tea"? It was a sweet and milky scent. So I interpret this as Hyunjin being attracted to someone who seems to have an appearance that is sweet as well as their demeanor.

Dark long hair (he does not have a hair texture preference)

Hyunjin likes to play with his partner's hair or braid it

"Diamond in the rough"

Natural beauty, someone who appears to down to earth.

Soft and approachable

Someone who is unconventionally pretty

"Beauty is the eye of the beholder" their appearance could not be everyone's cup of tea, but it is special to Hyunjin

"I am in need of a muse" one that could inspire him to paint

"Phantom of The Opera", "Black Swan", "The Nutcracker" - Hyunjin could wish to be protective of his partner or be the "darker" counterpart to his lover. So someone who is the opposite of him and is accepting of his flaws. Could have a "pure" presence in comparison

Long eyelashes

Eyes that seem sleepy, melancholic, or pure (Shape or size does not matter, but the feeling behind them. "Eyes are the window to the soul")

Aysmmetrical features (I.E: One eye being bigger than the other)

Unique facial structure (their face shape could be wide, round, or oblong)

"Cheeks" I saw Hyunjin like kissing someone on their cheeks, so someone with round cheeks or chubbier face

Cherry 🍒, this is sensual 😳 so I was getting a visual of someone feeding a person cherries and admiring the way their lips take a bite. So Hyunjin could find someone with plump, darker lips very sexy. Their lip color could be a dark red, mauve, or even two toned.

"Texture" Hyunjin find someone's skin that is considered "dirty" in society's eyes beautiful. This could pertain to freckles, beauty marks, moles, blemishes, and fine lines/wrinkles, whatever it is he just likes it

Stretch marks, I honestly believe Hyunjin has not seen this that often but when he does he feels intrigued by it... ("I would like to see it") Respectfully would want to strip his partner just to see them

I do not believe he has a skintone preference, I am seeing that he is attracted to various shades (I see pale to dark brown but it is interesting because I see it all on one person's skin? So Hyunjin could be open to dating someone who has vitiligo as well)

"Girl next door" clothing style

Jewelry or accessories that have a special meaning (I.E: lockets)

Height is not important to him

Balanced body proportions

Average in weight

Celebrities/influencers who are similar to his ideal type: Devery Jacobs, Emmy Rossum, Tsunaina Limbu, Theresa Hayes, Bae Yoon Young, Musette, Christina Nadin, analfaviu, Meltem Akçöl, Natalie Portman, Poppy Okotcha, jiaoze, Erika Blanc, & elibedy

Fun fact: I felt compelled to listen to music, so throughout the duration of this reading I played classical music the whole time to connect with Hyunjin's energy 🎻

[couldawouldashoulda50]

How William react to Loren getting attention from guys in Sweden? I mean he got lots of love and attention during the summer so she needs some love too and get his ass in gear and make it official lol make him work

Nonnie - I like way you think.

Please don't get me wrong - I love William but I love the idea of someone turning the tables on him a little bit. Not maliciously - Loren is not an attention seeker…but William starts to notice that, whether she wants it or not, she’s an attention getter wherever she goes. I have mentioned before about reading about Taurus traits - they apparently can be a bit possessive and that's sort of how I picture William to be after he's spent more time with Loren.

This is what I imagined:

It was 3:22 AM and William was in a snit. In a mood. Pissy.

Beside him, Loren slept soundly and peacefully. She deserved it—she was completely fucked out. Loren often matched, or even exceeded William's sex drive, but tonight, his appetite for Loren was insatiable. After her last orgasm—where she spasmed so hard on top of him that she flopped over and clung to the mattress like it was her only saving grace—blissful exhaustion swooped in. She had almost passed out in that very spot but she willed herself to go to the bathroom first. The minute she returned, she kissed William appreciatively and fell asleep straight away.

William was tired but sleep wasn't finding him easily. A slew of thoughts began to weigh on his mind. Despite what most people assumed about William's cool and unbothered persona, sometimes things got to him, much like in moments like this.

The time Loren had spent in Stockholm was nothing short of perfect. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air—whether it was a family get-together, or a post-nap fika with friends, or even just the two of them out for a walk or lazing in bed—she just radiated goodness wherever she went. However, the one thing William noticed early on was that Loren stuck out in Sweden like a sore thumb. Her eyes were the colour of dark chocolate and her dark olive skin was that of a Mediterranean goddess. William saw it every single time they walked into a packed bar or club. He may be the reason they were escorted past the line-ups, but all eyes seemed to bypass William and fell upon Loren once they entered.

On one hand, the pride he felt knowing she was there with him… it wasn't just about her beauty. It was the way she carried herself. Her friendliness and kindness towards others. She could be reserved or be exuberant. Display her biting wit or be totally serious. How she could mouthed the words to Eminem and then gush about her love of Tchaikovsky in the same breath.

On the other hand, men, and in many cases women too, fixated on Loren. Women would approach her asking about her hair—her long, wavy mane that naturally gave off a sexy, freshly-fucked look.

But the men eye-fucked her over and over. Loren was slender with curves—seemingly a lethally magnetic combination that they could not avoid. William could mostly handle the gawking and the muttering under their breath about her tits and ass.

But it was when they approached her that he really got his back up.

It's not that he didn't trust her—he did implicitly and without any reservation. It revolved around his own hesitation about making things more official between them. He was still trying to navigate his meteoric stardom and worried about all the temptations that went along with it. So perhaps it was more that he didn't trust himself.

He didn't know what he was waiting for. Until he figured it out, she was very much fair game for other interested parties.

Which led to him sitting in bed in that moment, avoiding the hundreds of DMs and text messages that he received from the myriad friends, past hook-ups, and ones that hoped to be a future option.

Instead, he scrolled through the comments from one of Loren's segments that was edited for Instagram and TikTok. Her videos were picking up traction. Some of the comments were from her target audience, expressing appreciation for her love of languages and her easy-to-follow methods of learning conversational French.

But more and more, there were heart-on-fire emojis, fire emojis, and so on. There were offers to whisk her away for some "private lessons," some guy flaunting his yacht and asking "would she be his personal translator in Monaco," a smattering of marriage proposals, and a good number comments about her looks.

The thoughts of her being with someone else freaked him the fuck out.

William rubbed his eyes and set his phone down. He looked at Loren—she was stretched out on her back with one arm bent above her head. The sheet that covered her had slipped off, exposing her upper half to the cool air in the room.

William, who always ran a little hot, slid his hand along her midriff and then over her breasts. When she stirred from the warmth of his hands, he crawled on top of her, brushing his lips across her skin. Loren smiled and let out a soft moan as she wrapped her arms and eventually her legs around William's body.

She murmured responses to some of his lingering questions. Mainly "Do you actually know—or see—how men look at you?"

Her response was simple. "I don't care if men look at me like I'm this or that. I only care if you look at me that way."

He smiled against her skin.

Fuck, she really is a keeper, he thought.

[thecreaturecodex]

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni

“The Mouse King” © deviantArt user MalakiaLaGatta, accessed at her gallery here

[”The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” by ETA Hoffmann is much darker and weirder than the more famous ballet it inspired. It’s mostly to do with the machinations between rival magical kingdoms and the Mouse King’s extortion racket for Christmas presents. As opposed to the ballet, which is fully half plotless dances based on ethnic stereotypes. I do enjoy Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, but let’s be honest. The Mouse King in the story is much more monstrous, having seven heads. For practical reasons, this is usually dropped from adaptations. A Soviet animated version compromised with three heads, and designs with that number are much more common than the full set.

The character has no name in the original story, just a title. We do get his mother’s name: Mouserinks. She’s the one who cursed the prince into being a nutcracker in the first place, and the Mouse King is hunting him to prevent him from turning back. My name for the character is derived from a Tamil word meaning rat or mouse. Since I’m making him a rakshasa, and different adaptations vary in what species he’s supposed to be, I figured that it was appropriate. The flavor text may draw some inspiration from the recent OGL unpleasantness.]

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni The Mouse King, The Rat King Concerns greed, gluttony, rodents Domains Animal, Evil, Law, Trickery Subdomains Fear, Fur, Greed, Tyranny Worshipers evil ratfolk, extortionists, misers, wererats Minions rakshasas, rat kings, swarms Unholy Symbol seven crowns stacked in a triangle Favored Weapon rapier Obedience gorge yourself on fine food and drink for 1 hour. Despoil any leftovers so no one else may benefit from them. Gain a +4 profane bonus on saves against disease Boons 1: summon swarm 2/day; 2: hunger for flesh 2/day; 3: heroes’ feast 2/day

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni CR 21 LE Outsider (native) This humanoid stands smaller than a human and has seven rodent heads, arrayed facing in all directions. They are clad in a fancy military dress uniform, carry a fine saber, and wear a crown on each of their heads.

Korittunni the Mouse King is one of the least of the rakshasa immortals, but that does not make him any less dangerous or destructive. He is obsessed with things: taking them from other people and destroying them if he cannot take them. No object is below his acquisitiveness; he enjoys stealing toys and candy from children as much as he does jewels or magical items from the wealthy and powerful. He rarely works alone, and surrounds himself with sycophantic ratfolk, ver, wererats and other rodent-like humanoids. Most of his elite agents are other rakshasas, typically with rodent features in their natural form.

Korittunni often is the one to initiate hostilities, but if he can take what he wants through intimidation, trickery or mind-controlling magic, he does so before fighting. His teeth are strong and powerful, but he usually fights with a dueling sword. He is a master of bardic magic, weaving spells and magical dance together in order to augment his own abilities and those of any of his minions. Korittunni often leaves his victims alive but humiliated, cursed or polymorphed, as a warning to others who would cross him.

The Mouse King’s kingdom is a vast subterranean city, from which he plots robbery and extortion. Many criminal gangs pay him protection money, and in turn he helps to supply them with tools and talent from his own reserves. And doesn’t just wipe them out and steal from them. Korittunni is a dangerous partner, however, as he will often make the terms and conditions of his deals more and more restrictive, until his allies are little more than slaves. He can be charming when he wants to, but his default mode of expression is to threaten and bully. He is something of a mama’s boy and speaks fondly of his own mother, although whether she actually literally existed as he describes, or is a composite character based on dozens of reincarnations, is mysterious.

Korittunni is only two feet tall, but no less dangerous for his size. He always carries a magic rapier capable of stealing magical defenses and a rod of splendor.

Korittunni           CR 21 XP 409,600 LE Small outsider (native, rakshasa) Init +14; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +29, scent Defense AC 38, touch 22, flat-footed 27 (+1 size, +10 Dex, +1 dodge, +14 natural) hp 420 (29d10+261) Fort +17, Ref +26, Will +22 DR 20/epic and piercing; Immune death effects, disease, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20, sonic 20; SR 36 Defensive Abilities all-around vision, evasion Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft. Melee +3 spellstealing rapier +43/+38/+33/+28 (1d4+9/15-20), 7 bites +35 (1d4+3) or 7 bites +40 (1d4+6) Special Attacks bardic performance (59 rounds/day, swift action, countersong, deadly performance, dirge of doom, distraction, fascinate, frightening tune, inspire competence +6, inspire courage +4, inspire greatness, inspire heroics, soothing performance, suggestion), detect thoughts (DC 35), voracious Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) At will—bestow curse (DC 25), contagion (DC 25) 3/day—greater command (DC 26), greater teleport, nightmare (DC 26), quickened phobia (DC 27), ravenous rodents 1/day—demand (DC 29), mass hunger for flesh (DC 28), polymorph any object (DC 29), prediction of failure (DC 29) Spells CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) 6th (7/day)—mass cat’s grace, mass cure moderate wounds (DC 27), greater scrying (DC 27), irresistible dance (DC 29), pied piping (DC 29) 5th (7/day)—cloak of dreams (DC 28), greater dispel magic, mind fog (DC 28), nightmare (DC 28), seeming (DC 26) 4th (7/day)—dominate person (DC 27), freedom of movement, hold monster (DC 27), legend lore, pessimism (DC 27), sleepwalking suggestion (DC 27) 3rd (7/day)—cure serious wounds (DC 24), fear (DC 24), glibness, haste, mass feather step, sculpt sound 2nd (8/day)—blur, gallant inspiration, heroism, invisibility, quick change, silence (DC 22) 1st (8/day)— charm person (DC 24), comprehend languages, cure light wounds (DC 22), identify, saving finale, undetectable alignment 0th—detect magic, ghost sound (DC 21), light, lullaby (DC 23), prestidigitation, read magic Statistics Str 23, Dex 31, Con 28, Int 25, Wis 22, Cha 32 Base Atk +29; CMB +34; CMD 55 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Extra Performance, Greater Spell Focus (enchantment), Improved Critical (rapier), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Quicken SLA (phobia), Spell Focus (enchantment), Spring Attack, Step Up, Whirlwind Attack Skills Acrobatics +31, Appraise +25, Bluff +36, Climb +32, Diplomacy +18, Disguise +40, Escape Artist +31, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, dungeoneering, local) +25,  Knowledge (planes) +27, Perception +29, Perform (act, dance) +32, Sense Motive +27, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +35, Swim +24, Use Magic Device +29; Racial Modifiers +4 Bluff, +8 Disguise, +2 Perception Languages Common, Goblin, Infernal, Senzar, telepathy 300 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid or rodent, polymorph), rakshasa lord traits Ecology Environment urban and underground Organization unique Treasure triple standard (rod of splendor, +3 spellstealing rapier, other treasure) Special Abilities Bardic Performance (Su/Sp) Korittunni can use bardic performances as a 20th level bard. Rakshasa Immortal Trait (Ex/Su) Korittunni is a rakshasa immortal, a powerful unique outsider capable of granting spells. This also grants him the following abilities

Immunity to death effects, disease and poison

Resist acid, cold, electricity, fire and sonic 20

DR/epic

Telepathy 300 ft.

Korittunni’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons he wields, are treated as epic, lawful and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction.

Ravenous Rodents (Sp) This spell functions as a creeping doom spell, except that the swarms summoned appear as rats and mice. The swarms have the animal type instead of the vermin type, and do not have the poison special attack. Instead, they gain the voracious ability (see below) and deal damage to unattended objects in their area as well. This is the equivalent of a 7th level spell. Spells Korittunni casts spells as a 20th level bard. Voracious (Ex) Korittunni’s bite attacks deal double damage to creatures with the plant subtype, and to objects made out of plant materials such as paper, wood and most cloth.

[rhetoricandlogic]

BOOK REVIEW: Cage of Souls, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

May 22, 2019

Alex Hormann

The sun is dying. The Earth is all but dead. The last of humanity is clustered in a single city, as corrupt as it is vulnerable. But Stefan Advani has bigger problems. . .

I’ll cut straight to the point. Cage of Souls is the best book I have read so far this year. It’s bleak, depressing, brutal and with barely a drop of hope contained within its numerous pages. But that doesn’t subtract from the fact that it is vivid, wildly imagined and utterly brilliant.  For some reason I thought this was going to be a novella, and I am so glad it turned out to be a full-length novel. Because the story and idea within really need that extra depth and investigation.

We open with our narrator being shipped off to an island prison for vague crimes against the state. Cowardly and well-educated, Advani relies on both of these traits to keep himself alive. A task not made easier by dangerous wildlife, murderous inmates and a tyrannical Marshal who’d rather see the whole lot of them dead. The prison itself is as dangerous as any of the prisoners. A rusting mass of pumps and cages that appears to serve no purpose other than to get people killed.

Tchaikovsky’s future Earth is a uniformly bleak one.  Outside the prison and the lone city of Shadrapar, the world is all but uninhabitable. There are deserts that will burn you, jungles that will poison and eat you, and a toxic, plastic-choked sea that holds only death. It’s a world that has turned against humanity, a fact that most of the human race appears to have accepted. We have become a species that no longer looks to the future, because there probably won’t be one. A sense of darkness pervades the entire book that’s enough to keep you up at night, and give you nightmares even if you do drift off.

As he settles in to prison life, Advani slowly reveals  the events that led to his incarceration. As you’d expect, it’s not exactly happy reading. But it’s a change of pace that keeps you reading for just one more page. And then one more chapter. And then the whole book. These flashbacks to Shadrapar’s more cultured life are so far removed from prison life that they almost seem to be from another book. But rather than being disjointed, this only amplifies the sense of loss that fills the narrative.

One of the things I enjoyed most was the use of book-as-artefact. That is to say, Advani’s memoir exists within the world of the book. It adds another layer to the story, knowing that he himself considered the events important enough to record in text. While this technique lets the reader know the narrator survives, it allows for more intimacy than a regular first-person narrative. Playing with the unreliable narrator, while also directly addressing the reader, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the style used quite so well.

While I wouldn’t go so far as to call the book a wake-up call or use that dreaded word ‘timely’, the world is definitely informed by the ongoing conversation around the climate crisis we are currently facing. I can’t say that the book is an accurate depiction of where our species is heading (and I certainly hope the future can be a little brighter) it’s a worrying-enough possibility to make you think. Think, and fear. It would be easy for a setting like this to become nihilistic, but Tchaikovsky avoids that pitfall. Instead the book reads more sombrely. Like a lament for the future of human civilisation.

Adrian Tchaikovsky is one of Britain’s greatest living SF writers, and here he is on the top of his game. A serious contender for book of the year.

[dinoplantsghost]

pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: mentions of WW2, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of assault

word count: ~4.6k

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- Tchaikovsky Winter is here and in full swing despite it being late Autumn

Chapter List

Yule Break in France [9]

After exam week, Abraxas became fiendishly impatient. He wanted to leave, to get away from all the studying and the papers and the constant ticking of the large clock that stared him down in the Great Hall throughout the entire week. The night before the weekend rolled around, the boy dragged Saoirse to the Slytherin dorms to help her pack. However, when she told the Knights she barely had any clothes outside from her uniforms, all Hell broke loose. 

Eloise, being the group’s fashionista other than Miles, was devastated. “What do you mean you don’t own at least a dress or two?” He circled Saoirse, his red hair in disarray and his hands tugging at the girl’s black robes. “You seriously don’t have anything else other than this?”

“We never wore dresses, and there was no reason to,” Saoirse argued. “I’ve never been to a ‘ball’ before, Avery!” 

“Saoirse, you’ll be fine,” Miles said. “We can walk to the town that’s not far from the main manor. Besides, you have that dress from that Gryffindor girl.” 

Apparently, it was also common for old families to have multiple manors, or châteaux, as they called them. Most, if not all, of the Knights were French, or at least descended from another European country. English was already difficult for the average Japanese speaker; French, however, could crash and burn for all Saoirse cared. 

“Oh, you know, I’ve been hearing a lot about that girl,” Avery gasped. “What’s her name—de la Rosa? I heard some rumors about her and that Hufflepuff bloke. According to Walburga, Griffin tried to force himself onto her or something. Apparently he was complaining about the girl to his friends and people came to that conclusion. I always thought he looked like a weird goblin, to be honest. It’s surprising since I always see him walking with a random girl for a few months before hopping to another one.” 

“Don’t talk about Ava-Lynn like that, it’s rude.” Saoirse frowned. “That’s none of our business; drop it. Black’s cousin isn’t a good source, anyways.” 

“I know,” he sighed. “But honestly? Even I know not to do anything like that; I know when to cut my losses. Are you sure you can hang out with Mayfield? It’s not like he’s dropped the guy, you know, even with the knowledge of what he may or may not have done to her.” 

“I’m sure it’s more complicated, we can’t assume anything. Tracy badmouths Griffin any time he gets.” 

Eloise made a noise of sarcasm, a concept Saoirse caught wind of quickly when she first learned English from Merrythought.

The door slammed open, and Abraxas stomped through with his hair pushed back with a headband. “Enough gossip, we need to be packed by lunchtime so we can leave for France.”

“Don’t say that,” the red head whined. “We always have time for gossip, it’s what we do!” 

“Well, we’ll have time for more gossip if you hurry up!”

He opened his mouth, finger pointing to the blond before he considered his friend’s words. “I don’t like that you’re right.” 

Saoirse dragged her hand across her face, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She drowned out the noise with her thoughts, mentally going over their plans one more time. 

While they wanted to goof off and show Saoirse what France had to offer, the Knights needed to focus on figuring out Riddle’s dilemmas for him. Exams had drowned the group in studies and they had no time to find anything about the Chamber of Secrets before the break. If the main Malfoy Manor in France did not have anything, the blond heir said that was another, smaller manor six hours south near the Spanish border. But with the Muggle War, it would be a risky move; the whole trip to France was entirely dangerous within itself.

With a snap, Saoirse closed her suitcase, its fresh leather and gold locks shiny. France already sounded troublesome before stepping foot on its land.

───────────

Saturday, December 19th

The Knights of Walpurgis left Hogwarts midday, carrying their luggage through Hogsmeade to a comically small carriage pulled by Unicorns. Abraxas made it his personal mission to push Saoirse into the carriage first to avoid familiar mishaps the first time she encountered the horned creatures. 

The trip to France took about three hours. The sun had begun to fall when the carriage settled at the front of the manor. The girl had never seen so much snow until now. France was covered head to toe in a thick blanket of white, all while snowflakes continued to pour throughout each hour. Being so used to the weather in Iwo Jima, which was further south from Japan, Saoirse was starting to miss the humidity. 

Stepping out of the carriage, Saoirse knew deep in her heart something was wrong. The moment her feet crunched on the path of sand and gravel, a sinking feeling in her stomach kept her from moving forward. It wasn’t until Patrick took her hand that she distanced herself from the wagon. 

The French manor of the Malfoy family was extremely large, rivaling the space Hogwarts took up in Scotland. The pillows of snow surrounding the castle reflected back, shining in Saoirse’s eyes and illuminating the navy blue roofs sitting high on the sixteenth-century architecture. As the group walked along the pathway, two muddy figures could be seen near the towering doors of the chateau. 

Abraxas immediately abandoned his luggage to greet them, the most comforting smile Saoirse had seen from the boy. “This is my mother and father, Lady Ayla and Lord Henry of the great House of Malfoy.” 

The boy was a splitting image of his mother. Both had the same polite smile, the same broad nose that arched sharply, and the same desire for diplomacy. His father, however, had a much kinder disposition. It was clear as day who Abraxas got his hair from, as well as his steel blue eyes. 

Avery ran up to the adults in a familiar fashion, squeezing both into a hug. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” he laughed. “It’s great to see you two!” 

The other Knights followed suit, each giving Henry a firm handshake and a brief hug, while Ayla received either a kiss to the cheek or the back of her hand. Henry and Ayla had the most favorable reactions when approached by Riddle, however. The man greeted Tom like an old colleague, going out of his way to pat the boy on the back while Mrs. Malfoy greeted him as if he were her son. 

“I’m so glad you decided to join us again this year, sweetheart,” she gushed. “Every time you visit I can’t help but feel for you, Tom, I wish we could take you in.” 

With a polite laugh and smile, Tom shrugged his shoulders. “You have done more than enough these past few years, Mrs. Malfoy; I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“Please, Tom, my mother and father would kill to take you in,” scoffed Abraxas. “Sometimes I think they love you more than me and my brother.” 

When Ayla moved to hit her son on the arm, she noticed the smaller figure behind the group of boys, her hands shivering next to her ashed and dry lips in an attempt to warm her skin. “Oh, and who are you, darling? You’re absolutely freezing.” She pushed the boys away, forcing all the attention onto the girl as she wrapped her shawl around Saoirse. “Let’s get you inside, dear. Richy,” a house elf popped in their view, “could you take this girl’s luggage? Thank you.” 

The large doors of wood heaved, swinging open to allow the teenagers inside the manor. The foyer extended far and wide, a sharp and shiny chandelier dangling from the ceiling as feet walked along the red carpet. Past the numerous moving paintings and the glamorous objects that were sure to be centuries old, Mrs. Malfoy sat Saoirse down on the leather couch in the middle of the parlor decorated in green foliage. 

“Now, what’s your name, sweetie,” Ayla smiled. “You must be the new exchange student at Hogwarts. Abraxas had mentioned you a few times in his letters home.” 

“Has he?” Saoirse mused. “I hope it’s nothing that ruins my image, ma’am. I would hate to leave this beautiful architecture behind.” 

The lady laughed behind her palm, taking a seat next to the girl. “Nonsense! This is the first time our son’s brought home a young lady. I would never want to see you out, dear.” 

“Mum,” Abraxas blushed. “It’s not like that! I’m supposed to marry that Torsia girl, remember?” 

“Oh, yes, son; how could I forget?” 

Lord Henry rested in his loveseat, fingers gripping his mug of coffee. “Say, girl,” he started. “You look awfully familiar. What did you say your name was?” 

“I didn’t, sir; my name is Saoirse.” 

“Really? I apologize, but that’s an interesting name to have considering your ethnicity. What’s your surname?”

“My family name is Watanabe. I highly doubt you would know anyone from my family, though, as it’s a fairly common surname.” 

The man nodded, a solemn look falling on his features. “I see. It’s just…Ayla and I have invited a business partner from Japan, and they just lost their daughter a few months ago. I was hoping you would be able to shed some light on that.” 

Flames from the fire flickered, warmth spreading through the parlor as attentive ears fell on Saoirse’s silence. “I knew of her,” she muttered. “Himiko was her name, Himiko Itohata. According to the rumors, the staff at Mahoutokoro found the girl tied to the wall of her dorm. To say she looked nothing like herself would be an understatement.” 

“Merlin,” Mrs. Malfoy gasped. “I couldn’t possibly imagine losing one of our sons like that…It makes me nauseous to even think about it.” 

Abraxas frowned, leaning forward on the back of the couch. “Surely, they brought the girl to justice, yes?” 

Saoirse nodded. “Her murderer was beheaded, supposedly.”

“Is that why you transferred to Hogwarts—because of her death?” 

“No, I was a problem child. I’ve grown a considerable amount ever since I came to Hogwarts, and I’m extremely grateful.” 

Maybe it was the rush of exams, or the rush to enjoy their Yule break, but a veil of quaint awkwardness was pulled off the girl’s visage and character. The Knights were very much aware of Saoirse’s capabilities as she easily rose in the school’s ranks just below Tom as their year’s salutatorian. She was on par with the Slytherin descendant, the constant reminder of her skill permanent on the boy’s skin. But since the Knight’s first meeting, all caution was thrown out the window. Saoirse was a friend, a comrade, and a Knight just like they were. She was one of them, part of their nightly debates and their weekly cloud watchings by the Black Lake. 

Abraxas hoped he was wrong, so painfully wrong. But with his previous theories coming to fruition, optimism was quickly drained like a vampire with their victims.

───────────

The Knights were crammed into Abraxas’ room, Eloise making divots in the carpet as he paced back and forth with his hands in his red hair. “I can’t wrap my head around it,” he wheezed. “Saoirse wouldn’t do that—would she?”

“Of course she wouldn’t,” Patrick reasoned. “Besides, you heard what she said; she hardly knew the girl.” 

“She could have easily lied, Patrick,” said Orion. 

“But why? Why would she lie to us?” 

“Patrick, we understand that you have feelings for her, but this is no time to be biased.” Tom said. He crossed his legs in his seat, his forefinger fiddling with the stick of glorified death, a cigarette, in his hand. “Let this be a wakeup call—to all of you. Need I remind you of what she did to me?” 

The boys were silenced, jaws tense and snapped shut. In retrospect, it was easy to forget what they had initially thought of Saoirse. She was always quiet, the very few words she decided to let fall from her lips sticking to their ears for as long as they could. The more she spent with them, the louder her voice would be, the more confident she was. Saoirse always argued with Eloise, Cassius, and Miles, entertaining the rest whenever she would give up in a fit of passion and resort to her hands to get her point across. In short, they had grown attached, as if she had been in the group for as long as they could remember. 

That was not to say that they had any problem with her actions; it was just baffling to think of the girl digging her hands in the bowels of someone the same age as them. Tom had murdered people before, so it should not be any different, right? But deep down, they knew; it was drastically different to kill for the sake of curiosity than to kill for the sake of revenge and pride. Tom had killed the only blood relatives he had while Saoirse killed a girl that used to roam the halls of the very respectable school that was Mahoutokoro.

Tom took a drag from his cigarette before continuing his monologue, his tone sardonically light. “You said it yourself, Nott; once we’re done with the girl, we kill her. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now. Let us put it this way: if we do not kill her, we have no reason to think she would attack or betray any of us, regardless of what she did to me previously. So, if you—and the rest of the Knights, are seriously putting her on some pedestal, then fine; we won’t kill her. However, don’t think for a second that I would hesitate to take action if she decides to do something stupid.” A stub of ash fell from his Lucky Strike. “She would be foolish to even try, anyways.” 

A knock hit the door, followed by the click of the doorknob to reveal the topic of discussion peeking her head through the crack. “I had a hard time finding where you all were,” she huffed. “I had to ask one of the house elves and I don’t think they like me.” Oblivious to the shared looks around the room, Saoirse slipped inside to lean against the round table. “So, when are we going to the library?”

“Right,” Abraxas exhaled. “We were planning to head there soon since dinner is going to take a while. After that, we can look inside the study rooms if we have the time.” 

“You look constipated,” Saoirse laughed. “In fact, all of you look tense. Are you okay?” 

Sweat pooled on the boy’s lips, his gaze looking anywhere but in Saoirse’s eyes of concern. 

“We were having a boy talk, Saoirse, you wouldn’t get it,” Cassius said, waving a hand of reassurance. “In fact, we had a man talk. About manly things.” 

After snuffing out his cigarette, Tom stood up and wiped his palms on his trousers. “Alright,” he sighed. “Take us to the library, Abraxas.”

───────────

While the others seemed to have these forced opinions of the foreigner, Tom held onto his instincts. He was far from dumb, but so was Saoirse. It shouldn’t take a genius to figure the girl out; she laid everything on a silver platter. Well, most things. Tom was positive Saoirse had killed that Himiko girl, no matter how hard his Knights tried to deny it. However, she was lying about one thing, but it was difficult to navigate through her vague and aloof demeanor towards her past. He was very familiar with the tactic, though, having fabricated his own background with half-truths. 

Tom did not know what to make of her, truly; she was a big, red question mark that stuck out from his plans to greatness. When the girl was not Hell-bent on being annoying, she was an airhead. The boy’s thoughts were only confirmed as the group walked through the long halls of the manor, Saoirse’s head swiveling on her neck with a few loose screws. She was as loud as she was quiet, a walking contradiction insistent on being a creeping nodule of irritation.

Abraxas, once they found the library, heaved the doors open to reveal a tall void covered in books and pockets of knowledge from wall to wall. A labyrinth of curiosity and power is what Tom could describe it as. 

“I’ve always hated the way books smell,” coughed Eloise. “It reeks of nerd.” 

As Saoirse walked past the red head, she couldn’t help but comment: “It really explains your scores, though, Avery.”

For a moment, a breeze of laughter reflected the way deep orange sunlight filtered through the giant windows, revealing each speck of dust. 

Tom, in all of his joyful cheer, pushed through his lackeys in stride, his mind set on ending the day with his nose buried in aged tree pulp. The air simmered in favor of silence, the occasional whisper or rebuttal here and there filtering through pages flipping and hard leather slamming against thin tables. 

Soon enough, it was difficult for the fifteen-year-old to be pulled from his flow state. With each word his brain drank up, he felt like a boy driven by naïvety once more. The dust in the library felt familiar as it clung on to the fabric of his white polo, a painfully warm reminder of his upbringings on creaky, moldy floors of wood. Books were always his escape, a way to breathe through the ostracism powered by weak beliefs. He never wanted to be harmful; never once did he ever think to maim little Billy’s rabbit until his fatty of an owner decided to get on his last nerves that day. He never wanted to live in that orphanage any more than Miss Cole wanted to take care of him, or any of those kids for that matter. It wasn’t his fault his poor excuse for a mother birthed him on the same dirty, disease-ridden floors he read on; it shouldn’t be his fault. 

“You’ve been stuck on that page for a long time,” said a voice. “Maybe you need glasses, Riddle.” 

Riddle. What a horrible, hair-raising surname of his. He pressed a forefinger between the pages before closing the book, begrudgingly lifting his head to meet Saoirse’s eyes. “I find it odd that you would stare at me long enough to figure that out.” 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I just came over to tell you that Patrick might have found what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets is. I’ve been calling your name for about a minute now.” 

That is certainly one way to catch his attention. Tom pushed the book in his hand back in its proper place on the shelf. “Speaking of Nott,” he sang glibly. “How have you two been? Surely he’s made better advancements in courtship by now.” 

As the two walked side by side, Saoirse recoiled. “Don’t act like you’re interested in our lives all of a sudden. If you really wanted to know, you would hang out with the boys more.” 

“Why would I? I socialize with them enough.” 

“Honestly,” she sighed. “With that attitude, it’s difficult to think you want more respect from them. They only reflect your own efforts for a connection—which are very feeble, by the way.” Before they turned the corner between two rows of shelves, she frowned at Tom. “Haven’t you ever wanted friends? Those are more loyal than any posse or follower, even for the most powerful figures in history.”

“How naïve you are, Saoirse.”

The girl did not bother to reply, making her place next to Patrick. The Austrian boy pushed the large tome in the middle of the table for all to see, the crinkles on the faded pages making its age archaic. 

“It has to be a Basilisk.” Patrick said. “If Salazar wanted to make an impact, he would have housed this in the Chamber of Secrets.” 

“That thing is huge, though,” argued Abraxas. “How would it navigate through the castle?”

“I’m not sure, but there’s no other answer; this has to be it.” 

The table creaked under the weight of Cassius leaning forward to read the cracked script. “‘A Basilisk will be birthed through the process of incubating a chicken egg under a toad for up to three months.’ That’s ridiculous! The Basilisk would be dead by now!”

“Salazar Slytherin would be smart enough to prolong its death, Mulciber,” said Tom. “It’s perfectly reasonable to assume the Basilisk is the monster in the Chamber. The problems that present themself to us now are the creature’s way of navigation and the location of the Chamber.” 

“If the Slytherin common room is below the castle in the dungeons,” Saoirse suggested. “Is it possible the Chamber would be built in a similar fashion?”

Abraxas shrugged. “Maybe. The only thing I can think of the Basilisk moving from place to place would be the pipes. My father has shown me the plumbing plans for this property before, and if Hogwarts is anything like this manor, then the pipes should be large enough to fit a snake like that.” 

“So, what?” Louis frowned. “The Basilisk just makes its way through the pipes? That would imply that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets would be…” 

None of them wanted to say it, let alone think of the possibilities. There was no way in Hell a group of aristocratic boys would spend their spring semester lounging around lavatories and toilets.

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┐

“I still can’t believe you’ve never celebrated Christmas before. Don’t tell me you would spend weeks studying for finals at Mahoutokoro.” Said Miles.

Saoirse shrugged. “The High Priestess found Christmas to be redundant, and it’s a western holiday anyways; she saw no point in it.”

The Yule Ball was set for December 25, otherwise known as Christmas. Having solved their problems as Knights, the Slytherin boys were more than happy to finally relax and enjoy the season. They had woken Saoirse early to get a head start in the day. Since the girl did not have any dresses appropriate for the upcoming occasion, they did their best to provide Saoirse with the best shopping experience Val de Loire had to offer. 

Miles and Louis hooked arms with Saoirse, the girl unable to stop a grin from crawling on her face as they skipped through the little town a few ways from the Malfoy Manor. The snowy breeze was cold on her cheeks, but she never felt so warm before in her life. 

“Now, since France is a bit occupied by Germany,” the Lestrange boy muttered. “The fashion is a bit…stuck in time. My personal favorite, and I think the period you fit the most, is Edwardian fashion from a couple decades ago. The shops here should have some dresses like that in stock. If not, I’ll have my mother owl you a few for the time being.” 

“‘Brax’s mum would lend some, too,” Louis said. “She looked so happy to meet you yesterday.” 

The group eventually stopped in the middle of the town. Miles and Louis begged the other boys to drag Saoirse and “shop-hop” as they called it, but Abraxas and Patrick were firm in their wishes to stay together. 

“We can’t afford to split up,” Nott sighed. “I want Saoirse to have a good time too, but an air raid could happen at any moment.” 

“Well, let Tom follow us,” Miles whined. “If something happens, we’ll be fine. The Ministry couldn’t possibly do anything if we use magic to save ourselves, right?” 

“And what makes you think I want to be part of your senseless gallivanting?” Tom challenged. 

Miles gasped. “You take that back! It’s never senseless if it’s a girl’s first dress. This is her entry into womanhood, Tom!”

“I got my first dress from Ava-Lynn…” Saoirse muttered. 

“Well—that doesn’t count.” 

Without another word, Lestrange tugged the girl along, Louis following as he hung from her other arm. They ignored the words Patrick, Orion, and Abraxas were yelling; Miles was too busy complaining that his dark complexion looked dead in the winter season. He was much more of a warm summer tone. 

Patrick turned to Tom. “Please go follow them,” he frowned. “It’s the least you could do for us—for her.” 

“This will cost you a packet,” Tom uttered, taking a cigarette from the metal container in his pocket. He shuffled over to a corner to cup his tobacco stick, using his magic to discreetly light the end. The boy made strides to catch up with Saoirse, Miles, and Louis, his hair moving with the chilling wind. He would have put gel in this morning, but he always saved the product for school and special occasions.

The small group had walked in and out of three shops due to Miles’ expensive taste and sharp eye. In the final shop, Louis stood by Tom as Miles helped Saoirse pick out her last dress, carrying the rest of her options in his arms. After some shuffling and not-so-subtle cursing, Saoirse stepped out of the changing booth in apprehension. 

“I don’t think this is my color,” she pouted. “I think purple makes me look sickly.”

When they first entered the shop, Saoirse was adamant on avoiding pink and yellow. Blues looked fine on her, since her hair was already cerulean, and brown complimented that as well as her jade green eyes. 

“I think the lavender looks nice on you, though,” Louis argued. “It puts a bit more pink in your cheeks. Actually, that might just be the weather instead. Whoops.” 

Miles nodded, taking a closer look at Saoirse’s skin. “I can see the vision, Louis. What do you think, Tom?” 

“It just looks purple to me.” He clicked, tapping off the ash from his Lucky Strike.

Saoirse frowned. “Don’t ask him, he’s such a Gloomy Gus about everything.” She looked at Miles expectedly, a hint of hope in her eyes as she stared at the boy. “Did I use that phrase right?” 

Ignoring the high-five Miles gave Saoirse, Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Maybe I have my reasons to be pessimistic.” 

“Forget about him, Saoirse, get the dress.” Lestrange smirked. “Besides, the only opinion you really should be worried about is Patrick’s.” 

“Nott would not know a single thing about color,” Tom nipped. “He’s colorblind.” 

“Well, he doesn’t have to choose by the color, necessarily. Every dress has a different design.” 

“If Nott is anything like me, then he wouldn’t know a thing about women’s clothing.” 

“Florian has a mother, a sister, and two cousins; what makes you think he doesn’t know how to distinguish dresses? The only person who doesn’t know a thing is you, Riddle.” 

Tom lit another cigarette, his heartstrings tugging at the thought wasting another in a fit of stress and annoyance. “What I do know is that purple doesn’t look good on her.” He sassed. “Saoirse was right when she said she looked like a corpse.” He pushed himself off the pillar he was leaning on, pressing his rough hands into his coat. “There’s no use in purchasing the other dresses, the only one she should wear is the brown one. She clearly looked most comfortable in that.” 

Stares burned into his black hair as he turned to leave the shop. The bell dangled against the door as he stepped out, only for the familiar ring of sirens to blare into his ears. 

The town turned into a cloud of black and gray, ears now ringing and bleeding at the shock of sizable bullets hitting the ground, glass, and any surface death could touch.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

[ofmays]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ❍﹒𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙴. history major &&; stereotypical brooding bookworm : house pulgasari's vice captain with an expertise in BLOOD MANIPULATION and RBF. . . he also really loves tchaikovsky and wine ( ONLY RED !! ) and will one hundred percent talk your ears off about the rise and fall of marie-antoinette &&; the roman empire — the roman empire IS his roman empire !!

hi everyone !! really excited to get to writing with everyone and learn about your muses all the more !! i'm finn ( he/they, 24 ) & i'll be writing MAY while staying here !! here are some direct links to may's PROFILE, his ANOMALY and his unfinished PLOTS page that i'll definitely get to in due time !! ( here's a quick rules page too for reference !! ) below this i'll leave a tldr on his background and ability, feel free to like this post if you're interested in plotting, but be warned that i'm going to be messaging each and every one of you anyways !! :3c

tw: small mention of blood/animal death !! i tried to be as brief as possible so apologies for the word vomit fr...

⠀ ❍﹒ current : brief about may as of now !!

may "kwanchai" sailee — don't call him kwanchai though...nobody does... !! currently 25 and is a taurus sun, cap moon and sag rising to anyone who knows what that means !! he is currently on his post-graduate year of history and is house pulgasari's vice captain (its very srs to him ok ??) he's known to be a hermit and keep to himself, mostly tucked away in corners of the library or campus. he love love LOVES classical music and what he studies, don't ask him about his interests or he won't shut up !! oh, and definitely don't ask him about his anomaly or he'll try to k*ll you with his brain . . .

⠀ ❍﹒ background : he doesn’t really have a tragic backstory tbh…all of his current problems stem from his distaste for his anomaly and what kind of person it makes him !! below i’ve left some trivia points i guess ?? just to get to know him better !!

— may is born to two loving parents in bangkok, thailand as their first son, a product of their pre-arranged marriage. he has one older sister and one younger sister. although his parents would disagree, he’s incredibly spoiled by them and is their secret favorite child (for some reason…) they are incredibly wealthy due to may's father's involvement in the fuel industry.

— throughout his youth, he attended only the best of the best schools and after school activities. he picked up ballet at a young age and excelled at it along with his studies. he still loves ballet to this day, but is far too dedicated to his current major: history, to pick it back up. he settles on watching drama rehearsals for now. a certain hamlet is just way too eye catching for him to look away…

— he learned of his anomaly at age eleven when a mouse was caught in a trap at home. he didn’t like seeing the mouse in distress, it evoked something in him, and the next thing he knows he’s directing blood back into its wound, steady, steady…until the pressure became too much and he near explodes the creature in his palm, killing it. since then he’s had a distaste for his ability and only uses it on himself.

— blood based anomalies run in his family, and while may has never been shamed for his ability, he was instructed throughout his life to keep it a secret while he attended high ranking schools. little did may know that it would prove to be incredibly difficult to keep his ability to himself due to his blood empathy, and soon enough his parents realized that it wouldn't be easy to hide it. in search of answers they found nuvilli, a drug currently in production. along with providing generous donations to the drug itself, and later to seoul university for anomalies, may was admitted to the university on the base of a scholarship, but to anyone else he basically paid his way in.

— may is extreeeemely anti-social...like really anti-social, and it's mostly to protect his own mental health with his blood empathy, nothing personal !! (most of the time) he gets a bad reputation for his overall attitude and anomaly; most would see him as intimidating(? or something similar!) and weird. he's actually really sweet under it all though, he has a lot of love and care to give !!

— being the vice captain of pulgasari is like a full time job to him /srs. he seemingly becomes a whole new person while taking part in games and meetings; entirely more confident. it's the only time he actually gets to show off his anomaly without feeling like a freak for it !! he's known to be pretty involved on field during games-- he's kiiind of an ace but he definitely won't say that about himself . . .

❍﹒ anomaly : a brief breakdown !!

may has a blood manipulation ability, he can use it for blood-bending and blood links, and suffers from blood empathy as a by product. he can only use blood for bending (from himself and from others) when it is visible. he's kinda really ashamed of his anomaly and doesn't talk about it a lot or use it :/ his main weaknesses are sight proximity and water !!

❍﹒ plots : a few quick ones i just thought of rn !!

— tutor may where may tutors your muse and helps them with school work ?? he's very studious and likes to help others when it comes to school work !! he also has a lot of extra time to himself due to being in his post-graduate year of uni !! (less days for a whooole lot more work to do) this is one of those plots where may will actually force himself to be social . . . — house pulgasari members plz plz plz !! self explanatory but maybe they get to see a different more confident side of may !! — his one and only sole ex that ruined his mental for months after they broke up because he swore he wouldn't get into a relationship for that EXACT REASON but he did it anyways and it went way worse than he could have ever anticipated !! both of them probably sucked like it was bad for both parties . . . — people who also live in the yellow hall !! self explanatory again >< — those who are in different houses than house pulgasari...they probably don't like may and may doesn't like them either...a fun competitive plot :3c — overall just people that get on may's nerves and visa-versa !! he has a very short temper and doesn't have a lot of patience for people, this paired with his anti-socialness does NOT make him the most pleasant person to be around on a surface level fdghdf

ok shutting up for now but if you have any ideas for plots please do not hold back, may is very dependent on them for connections !!

[peppymintdreams]

uh hello peppy I like your work a lot. I wanted to request if my OC could be made out into a fic I saw that in one of your post you mentioned and I was wondering if you could maybe write it (it’s fine if you don’t want to I was just wondering) her name is Lira she’s pale a tad bit introverted graceful I’ll send more to you in your DMs if you okay with that but

the idea I had was

Sir Andrew is philosopher in literature and teaches the youth but an older student one who appears no more than three years younger then him attends his classes. Everything about this student seems so intriguing their flawless skin the delicate voice it reminds him of a swan Sir Andrew logs down his fascination in this student of his and he notices his student has began to disappear more and more frequent, rumors around the village speculate that student is a witch or a cursed being and enchants men to drag them

I hope you can write this maybe thank you

Mint Jesus christ- damn this is long (that’s what she said) damn my child yall need to summarize this shit or send me your whole…essay of the Bible to me via DMs…

Hmmm this is interesting and based on the information you gave me…I can make this work

A Swan's Cry

Andrew Marston x Lira

Sir Andrew, a literature philosopher, becomes captivated by a mysterious student whose ethereal beauty and frequent disappearances fuel rumors of enchantment or a curse.

Sir Andrew was a man of reason, a philosopher well-versed in the works of the greats. As a literature professor, he had always taken comfort in the certainty of his books and the logic of his teachings. But the moment they walked into his classroom a student unlike any other that comfort began to unravel.

The student was quiet, almost ethereal in presence, with skin as pale as the winter moon and a voice so soft it reminded Andrew of a swan’s song both fragile and haunting. Their name? Lira, a name as delicate as the person it belonged to. Lira was no more than three years younger than Andrew himself, and yet there was something ancient in the way they carried themselves. They sat at the back of the class, always attentive, eyes gleaming like the surface of a still lake. But what fascinated Andrew most wasn’t just their beauty, nor their apparent intellect, but the way they seemed to vanish.

At first, it was subtle Lira missing the occasional lecture, leaving before classes ended, slipping away without notice. Andrew might not have cared, had the student not been so mesmerizing, so different from the rest. As the weeks passed, the absences grew more frequent, and rumors began to stir in the village.

“She’s not human,” whispered the baker’s wife one day as Andrew passed by. “Some say she’s a witch.”

“A cursed creature,” said another, eyes wide with superstition. “They say she enchants men, luring them to the lake where she drags them beneath the water.”

Andrew dismissed the gossip as village nonsense, but the more he saw of Lira and the more he didn’t see the more the words wormed their way into his thoughts. He began to write about Lira in his journals, not as a student, but as an enigma. He became obsessed with finding out more about them, piecing together the fragments of who they were. Where did they go during those long absences? Why did they leave so abruptly, as if carried by the wind itself?

Andrew finds himself intrigued by Lira more than any student he has ever had. He takes note of the way she walks, the grace in her movements, how she carries herself with the calm of someone who knows that the world bends to her will. Yet, it is not just her physical presence that draws him in; it is the mystery surrounding her.

He begins to log down his fascination in a private journal, as though trying to understand the enigma she presents.

March 10th, 1X—

"She arrived late again. Her eyes, a strange mix of indifference and sorrow, never seem to meet mine, but I can feel her presence in the room. She does not ask questions, nor does she answer much when spoken to. But when she does speak, her voice is so soft, it feels like it might vanish on the breeze. Today, she was absent for an entire week, and I wonder where she goes. What does she do when she is not in the classroom? The others notice her silence, but they do not understand what I see. She is... different. Like a bird that should not be caged."

One evening, while staying late at the university to finish grading papers, Andrew caught sight of Lira from his study. The student was walking towards the woods that bordered the village, their slender form fading into the fog that clung to the earth like a veil. On impulse, Andrew grabbed his coat and followed.

He kept a safe distance, his heart racing as he trailed Lira deeper into the woods, his logical mind battling with a creeping sense of dread. The further they went, the more the rumors replayed in his head cursed, enchanted, not of this world. It wasn’t long before they reached the lake, the surface of the water smooth and black beneath the moonlight. Andrew watched from behind a tree as Lira stepped to the shore, their hands trembling slightly as they stood at the water’s edge.

And then it happened.

With a graceful, almost unnatural motion, Lira began to shed their clothes. But it wasn’t the sight of their exposed skin that sent a chill down Andrew’s spine, it was the way their body began to change. Slowly, elegantly, as if woven by magic, their arms became wings, their body shrinking and reshaping. Before Andrew’s very eyes, Lira transformed, their human form giving way to that of a swan, the silver shoes that had adorn their feet in their original form, still embellished her feet even in the form of a Swan. A creature so pure and haunting it felt as though the world had fallen silent.

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing to make sense of what he had just seen. Lira the student he had been so captivated by was not just a person. They were the swan, the very creature from the old legends, a being cursed to live between two forms, one human, one bird. The rumors had been right, but not in the way he’d imagined.

For several moments, Andrew stood frozen, watching as the swan Lira spread its wings and drifted across the lake’s surface, a creature of both beauty and sorrow. His fascination deepened, but so did his dread. What was Lira’s fate? Were they truly cursed? And if so, who had done this to them, and why?

Days passed after that night, but Andrew could no longer look at Lira the same way. In class, they seemed more distant than ever, their eyes heavy with the weight of their secret. Andrew tried to approach them, but every time he got close, Lira would vanish, slipping away like a dream at dawn.

Eventually, the pull was too strong. Andrew sought them out, late at night, returning to the lake where he had first seen the transformation. There, he found Lira, once again standing at the water’s edge, their expression full of sorrow.

“Lira…” Andrew whispered, stepping forward. “I know what you are.”

Lira’s eyes met his, filled with a sadness that pierced his soul. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I had to,” Andrew replied, his voice trembling. “Why? Why are you—”

“I am cursed,” Lira interrupted, their voice breaking. “Long ago, I angered someone powerful. Someone who could bend the rules of this world. They turned me into this… this creature, bound to the form of a swan by day, only able to walk in human skin at night.”

“Can it be undone?” Andrew asked, desperate.

Lira shook their head, their tears blending with the mist rising from the lake. “Not without a sacrifice.”

Andrew’s mind raced, torn between his growing feelings for Lira and the impossibility of their situation. “What kind of sacrifice?”

“A life for a life,” Lira whispered. “The one who loves me most must be willing to give up their own life to break the curse.”

Andrew stood silent, his heart heavy. He knew in that moment that he cared for Lira more than he had ever admitted to himself. But could he make that choice? Could he give up everything for the fleeting hope of saving them?

The days following Andrew’s encounter with Lira at the lake felt like a slow descent into an abyss. He couldn’t stop thinking about the curse, the impossible choice Lira was faced with, and the heart-wrenching sadness that lingered in their eyes. But there was no time to dwell on his feelings; the village, it seemed, was beginning to turn against them.

The whispers had started as mere rumors, harmless gossip passed from one person to the next, like the soft flutter of wind through leaves. But as time passed, the whispers grew louder. A chilling wind of suspicion began to stir through the streets of the village, and every passing day seemed to bring new voices to the chorus of doubt.

“She’s a witch,” they said. “A cursed creature.”

“They say she makes men disappear, drags them under the water,” someone would add, their voice quivering with fear. “She’s not human.”

Andrew had heard these rumors. He had seen the fearful looks from townsfolk as they avoided Lira in the streets, the sharp whispers that followed her every step. But it wasn’t until one fateful afternoon that he realized just how deep the hatred had sunk into the hearts of the villagers.

Andrew had been walking to the local market when he saw them. A group of villagers, led by the blacksmith’s son, marched toward the woods. There was fire in their eyes, a righteous fury that made Andrew’s stomach turn.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, trying to keep his presence unnoticed.

“They’re going after her,” the blacksmith’s son, a burly man named Roderick, said with an eager sneer. “We’ve had enough of her. The witch needs to be dealt with.”

“What do you mean, ‘dealt with’?” Andrew demanded, his voice shaking with disbelief.

Roderick glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t really believe in that nonsense, do you? She’s not just some strange girl who’s a little different. She’s dangerous. The things she’s done, the way she makes people disappear…” His tone became more sinister. “She needs to be stopped before she harms anyone else.”

Andrew’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to shout, to stop them, to reveal everything he knew about Lira, to defend her from this growing tide of hatred. But the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the knowledge that he was too late. The villagers had already made up their minds. They had already condemned her.

“No,” Andrew said, his voice fierce, but it faltered under the pressure. “You can’t. She’s not what you think.”

“Enough of your nonsense, Andrew,” Roderick barked, shoving him aside. “Stay out of this. It’s for the good of the village.”

As they disappeared into the trees, Andrew felt a cold emptiness settle in his chest. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t change their minds. And worse still, he had no idea where Lira had gone. Had she heard them? Did she know what was coming?

That night, as the moon rose high over the lake, Andrew found himself standing at the water’s edge once more. His thoughts were a chaotic whirl of fear, guilt, and desperation. He needed to warn her. He needed to protect her.

But as he stepped into the woods, he heard the sound of voices angry, yelling voices growing louder. He hurried toward the source, his heart pounding in his chest.

He found them at the lake, the villagers gathered around the water’s edge, torches in hand. The blacksmith’s son stood at the front, a cruel smile stretched across his face.

“There she is!” Roderick shouted, pointing toward the water. “The witch!”

Andrew’s stomach churned as he caught sight of Lira, standing at the water’s edge, her face pale and full of sorrow. She had heard them. She knew they were here.

“Lira!” Andrew shouted, rushing forward, but the crowd blocked his path.

“She’s no witch, you fools!” he cried, his voice breaking. “She’s not dangerous. You don’t understand she’s cursed!”

But the villagers were deaf to his words. They had already made their decision. The fear, the superstition, the years of whispered rumors had all led to this. They were convinced that Lira was the source of their misfortune, that she was the one who had caused the disappearances, the strange deaths, the accidents.

Lira stepped back from the water, her eyes meeting Andrew’s. She didn’t seem afraid. No, she was resigned, as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

“They don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the crowd. “They never will.”

Roderick raised his torch high, his eyes alight with malicious excitement. “Burn her! If she won’t burn, she’ll drown.”

Andrew’s heart stopped. The mob was pushing forward, closing in around her. Lira stood still, her body trembling, her arms outstretched as though she were ready to surrender to whatever fate awaited her.

“No!” Andrew shouted, throwing himself into the crowd, but they shoved him aside with ease, too many hands to fight against.

Lira’s form flickered. Slowly, almost painfully, she began to transform before their eyes. Her limbs shifted, her skin turning pale and fragile as the feathers of her wings began to unfurl. In a single, fluid motion, she became the swan, a beautiful creature of grace and sorrow.

But even as she took flight, the villagers didn’t relent. They threw their torches into the air, aiming to strike her down, their voices rising in a collective frenzy. They believed her to be a monster, a threat to their safety and their way of life.

Andrew collapsed to his knees, his heart breaking. He had failed her. In his attempt to protect her, he had only pushed her further into danger. She had vanished into the night sky, but the hate of the villagers remained, and it was spreading.

The sound of the swan’s cry echoed across the lake, a haunting, mournful wail that seemed to carry all of the pain and sorrow of Lira’s curse. And Andrew, standing alone in the dark, could do nothing but listen.

The night after the villagers had attacked, the air in the town was thick with whispers, as though the very walls of the buildings held secrets that nobody dared speak aloud. The moon hung high in the sky, pale and heavy with the weight of the events that had transpired. Andrew could barely bring himself to leave the safety of his home. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t shake the image of Lira her wings, her cry fading into the night sky.

The whole village had erupted into chaos, their superstition and fear culminating in the most senseless of hunts. Lira was no longer the mysterious, enchanting student he had once admired from afar. She had become something darker in the eyes of the villagers, something dangerous, something that had to be destroyed. The whispers had escalated into the open, and what had once been quiet judgment had now grown into an unrelenting demand for blood.

Andrew could feel it all, every ounce of that pressure, pressing down on him. Lira wasn’t just a mystery anymore; she was a symbol, an embodiment of everything the townspeople feared. And it was all because they couldn’t see her for who she truly was.

But what they hadn’t seen, what no one had known except Andrew, was that Lira wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t some dark magic conjured by ancient forces. She wasn’t evil, or cursed by wicked intentions. No, Lira was a creature of nature delicate and beautiful, but powerful beyond measure. And as he stood at the lake the following evening, staring out across the glassy surface, he realized just how much he had failed her.

The town had chased her away, maybe even driven her into hiding. But she would never be gone from his heart. He would find her. He had to.

Andrew knew the moment he saw her.

She appeared at the water’s edge, a silvery figure gliding across the surface, her feet barely making a ripple. The moonlight caught her feathers, illuminating her in a halo of light. For a moment, Andrew thought he might be seeing things perhaps his mind had begun to play tricks on him in the wake of the chaos. But no, it was her. Lira. Or the swan that had been her all along.

She moved with the grace of someone born to this world, as though the water had always been her home. Every step she took across the lake was fluid, effortless, as if she were walking through air itself. The water didn’t break beneath her; it parted gently as she moved, as though it were welcoming her.

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped closer, his feet soft on the wet earth. She was so close now, within arm’s reach, but she didn’t notice him yet. Her eyes were focused ahead, her expression both sad and serene.

"Lira," Andrew whispered, his voice hoarse, trembling with emotion.

Her eyes flickered, her steps slowing until she finally turned to face him. The moment their gazes locked, a deep sorrow passed between them, and for a brief, impossible moment, Andrew thought she might speak. But no words came. Instead, she tilted her head as if weighing him in her mind.

“Lira,” Andrew said again, a soft plea in his voice. "You don't have to hide from them. They don’t understand. You don’t have to do this alone. Please"

But before he could finish, she stepped back, her feet barely brushing the water’s surface. Her wings were so magnificent, so wild flared outward, catching the breeze. They were sharp and pure, like something from a dream. Her delicate, haunting beauty was both ethereal and unreachable. She was a creature of the water, and she was beyond the world Andrew lived in.

“I don’t belong here,” she said, her voice a soft murmur, carried by the wind. The words seemed to come from some place deep within her, like a secret only the water knew. “They’ll never understand. They’ll never accept me. Not for what I am.”

Andrew stepped forward, desperate. “Don’t say that. You’re more than what they think. Lira, please, don’t go.”

But as he took another step, something in her eyes shifted, something that told him she was already slipping away.

“I can’t stay in a place that fears me,” she said, her tone distant, almost resigned. She turned her back to him, her bare feet gliding across the water once more. She didn’t walk on the surface as she had beforeno, she danced, the water flowing in perfect rhythm with her every move. She was part of the world now, part of the night, part of something too beautiful for the village to understand.

“You can’t change them, Andrew,” she continued, her voice growing faint. “You’ve tried. But I’m not meant to stay. I’m meant for something else... somewhere else.”

Andrew felt the bitter sting of realization settle in his chest. He was losing her. In trying to protect her, he had only driven her further away. He had failed, and now he was standing in the remnants of what could have beena love that could never survive in a world so full of hatred.

“No, Lira. Please, don’t go,” he begged, taking a step forward, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

She paused mid-step, her body almost floating above the water as she turned to face him one final time. Her eyes glistened with the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts. And in that moment, Andrew saw the truth the truth he had tried so desperately to ignore.

Lira wasn’t just a student to him. She wasn’t just the girl who captivated him with her delicate beauty, her unearthly presence. She was a part of something greater, something untouchable. And no matter how much he wanted to fight for her, no matter how much he loved her, he knew there was no place for them in this world.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and with a flick of her wings, she soared into the night, disappearing into the vastness of the lake, leaving nothing but ripples in her wake.

Andrew stood there, alone at the water’s edge, his chest heavy with the unbearable weight of her absence. The villagers had driven her away, their fear and hatred had forced her to retreat, to become something even more unreachable. He couldn’t protect her. No one could. And now, all he had left was the memory of her swan’s crythe haunting song that would forever echo in his heart, no matter how far she flew….

-Fin

Hey…hey yah you 🫵🏾 do you want more Sakuverse gay shit well hit that follow button or turn on notifications and send a request and you can get all the gay shit you ever want and brand new fics of Sakuverse Reimagined Twist Of Fate and maybe a chance to have your OC in a story

[masonhawthorne]

What I read in March

Hoo boy, it's taken me a while to get around to this again, huh? I want to say March was a busy month, but it's too much of a blur for me to remember what was going on. I feel like I was climbing a lot (I've taken up rock climbing, have I mentioned?) but otherwise, I have no clue where March went.

Anyways, I got some good reading done!

Edge of Infinity, ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Analysis & Critique: How to Engage and Write about Anything, Dorsey Armstrong ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Will of the Many, James Islington ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And Put Away Childish Things, Adrian Tchaikovsky ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Gold Coast, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Best Science Fiction & Fantasy of the Year Vol 11, ed Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

New Rules & Guidelines From HR for Working with Humans (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angel (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Martian: Lost Sols (ss), Andy Weir ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Forever Peace, Joe Haldeman ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Merciless Waters, Rae Knowles ⭐️⭐️

Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Cursed Heart, Derin Edala⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Lair of the White Worm, Bram Stoker ⭐️

Pacific Edge, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Phytophthora Nosferatu (ss), J Corvine ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Minty Fresh, J Corvine⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Labyrinth of Dreams, Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angels Before Man, Rafael Nicolás⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lure, Tim McGregor ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Fascination, Essie Fox ❌❌❌

There were a couple of surprises for me this month, some were nice surprises, and some were...somewhat less than nice surprices. It's good, gotta have some surprises to keep you nimble.

The Will of the Many by James Islington was the first surprise, I had thought I'd like it well enough, the concept seemed interesting, and it turns out that it was actually fantastic. A smooth take on the dystopic genre, with a great attention to detail, and handling of social forces on the characters. The scifi elements might have come off as a bit silly if they'd been handled less skillfully, but over the course of the novel the real horror of the hierarchy becomes ever more apparent. Also it ends on a killer cliffhanger--where is the sequel??

A slight disappointment was that The Gold Coast and Pacific Edge, books two and three of Kim Stanley Robinson's The Three Californias Trilogy were...just not quite as good as the rest of his work that I've read. I found that TGC focussed too much on the 'futuristic party boy hedonist' archetype that I find stultifying in fiction, and while the surrounding worldbuilding was interesting I just could not stand any of the characters.

PE on the other hand was kind of...boring? Now don't get me wrong, I love boring books, but it was boring in the sense that I was reading it feeling like 'ok now when's the story going to happen?' there are only so many softball games which are metaphors for small town politics and romantic relationships that I can sit through. The other problem with PE, I think, is that it is aggressively middle of the road. In the other California novels, the protagonists have Forces to Push Against, but PE is set in a kind of idyllic postcapitalist cooperative, where small town politics is the biggest thing going on and the main conflict of the book can be solved with a strongly worded awareness campaign. Like I GET what was being done, but I also feel like this one could have been a third as long as it was and carried the same weight, but perhaps with fewer softball games.

Dune: Messiah was a nice surprise, I only read Dune last year, and I really enjoyed it, but I've only ever heard that the series goes downhill after the first one. Absolutely not! I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of Frank Herbert's Dune books!

The two real clunkers this month were The Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker, and The Fascination by Essie Fox. Both for similar reasons, actually. There was a whole lot of racism going on, in ways that were, y'know, disappointing but not surprising from a guy writing shock novels a hundred-and-something years ago, but really pretty upsetting from a novel that was published in 2023 and has lots of very positive reviews.

Having read several Stoker books now, I found that there was little of the sort of charm that I've come to expect from his writing. The characters were kind of flat and unpleasant, and the antagonists were evil for the sake of being evil. I'm actually surprised that this is one of his later works, because it reads as so much less sophisticated than the other things I've read.

The Fascination was the gift that kept on giving, if the kinds of gift you like are things like racism, ableism, and biphobia which seem bad at first, and then keep doubling down on themselves. The book also has an air of smug superiority, presenting sequence after sequence of exploitation dreck and then turning smirkingly to the reader like 'see I bet you assumed [something racist, ableist, biphobic, etc]'. The end of the novel hinges on a big reveal, which is that...one of the focalising characters has a disability. Which should, apparently, reframe how we've understood the character from the beginning, and which should shock us out of our assumptions that people with that disability couldn't be main characters. Or something.

I think it takes a lot of work to write something that makes the disability representation in Game of Thrones feel subtle and nuanced.

There was so much wrong with The Fascination that I could probably spend another several paragraphs listing them, but to be honest reading the book was unpleasant enough, I don't really feel like spending my evening reliving all that. My final criticism is that the book is insufferably twee and self satisfied. There was not one sentence that made me think that it was worthwhile to read.

To end on a positive note, all of the indie books and stories that I read were delightful! I've included links to most of them above, and it's really refreshing to read stuff that is smart, well written, and which actually has something interesting to say, even if that something is 'hey wouldn't it be super fucked up if there was a vampire in your flower bed?'

Anyways, that's enough for this month!

[hey wait, psst, did you know, I've got a novelette? It's available now: https://books2read.com/u/3kOvKn ]

Stars awarded at my whim

ss=short story

[cassowary-rapture]

Tchaikovsky re: Piano Concerto No. 1:

I played the first movement. Not a single word, not a single remark! If you knew how stupid and intolerable is the situation of a man who cooks and sets before a friend a meal, which he proceeds to eat in silence! Oh, for one word, for friendly attack, but for God’s sake one word of sympathy, even if not of praise. Rubinstein was amassing his storm, and Hubert was waiting to see what would happen, and that there would be a reason for joining one side or the other. Above all I did not want sentence on the artistic aspect. My need was for remarks about the virtuoso piano technique. R’s eloquent silence was of the greatest significance. He seemed to be saying: “My friend, how can I speak of detail when the whole thing is antipathetic?" I fortified myself with patience and played through to the end. Still silence. I stood up and asked, “Well?” Then a torrent poured from Nikolay Grigoryevich’s mouth, gentle at first, then more and more growing into the sound of a Jupiter Tonana. It turned out that my concerto was worthless and unplayable; passages were so fragmented, so clumsy, so badly written that they were beyond rescue; the work itself was bad, vulgar; in places I had stolen from other composers; only two or three pages were worth preserving; the rest must be thrown away or completely rewritten. “Here, for instance, this—now what’s all that? (he caricatured my music on the piano) “And this? How can anyone …” etc., etc. The chief thing I can’t reproduce is the tone in which all this was uttered. In a word, a disinterested person in the room might have thought I was a maniac, a talented, senseless hack who had come to submit his rubbish to an eminent musician…. I was not only astounded but outraged by the whole scene. I am no longer a boy trying his hand at composition, and I no longer need lessons from anyone, especially when they are delivered so harshly and unfriendlily. I need and shall always need friendly criticism, but there was nothing resembling friendly criticism. It was indiscriminate, determined censure, delivered in such a way as to wound me to the quick. I left the room without a word and went upstairs. In my agitation and rage I could not say a thing. Presently R. enjoined me, and seeing how upset I was he asked me into one of the distant rooms. There he repeated that my concerto was impossible, pointed out many places where it would have to be completely revised, and said that if within a limited time I reworked the concerto according to his demands, then he would do me the honor of playing my thing at his concert. “I shall not alter a single note,” I answered, “I shall publish the work exactly as it is!” This I did.

[saintavangeline]

what are some of your fav artists (painters, poets, musicians,...) or which ones inspire you the most ?

Mentally and emotionally speaking, the person who inspires me the most is Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables).. so I suppose the author of the series, Lucy Maud Montgomery. The main reason I started writing music in the first place was because of how much Anne inspired me to share from the depths my heart. She was always so passionate in what she believed in, who she loved, how she felt. I loved how she could find the beauty and romance in anything and everything, and she was never afraid to show everyone her truest self and heart, even if she was frequently misunderstood by those around her. I think we would be kindred spirits if she were a real person.

I’ve always been incredibly inspired by set designs from 80’s/90’s dark fantasy movies. I’m not sure who designed these sets, but I write with a lot of that imagery and emotion in mind.

My favorite poet is and has always been Stephen Crane. I love literary realism, and his work has definitely inspired a lot of my thinking. I also love Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire for imagery.

Musically, I’m very inspired by Vic Fuentes (his lyricism is just otherworldly), Ben Gibbard (also an incredible lyricist), and Hitomi Kuroishi (specifically her Angel Feathers album - she has the most heavenly angelic voice). I love reading lyrics to metal songs - they are some of the most poetic lyrics I’ve ever seen written. I also love Tchaikovsky, because I can feel him in his music, even if no words are spoken in his pieces.

Continuing with music: I have what’s called chromesthesia, where I can essentially hear color, and so a lot of my inspiration musically comes from the colors that certain pieces emanate. When I write, I always write with a color palette in mind. Writing and singing are just like painting to me, and I’m very particular with the exact words and colors I want to use. I love musicians that are consistent with their color palette (even if they don’t realize) in their songs if that makes sense. They inspire me most in terms of color.

[corner-stories]

on edge

Armin Arlert. Annie Leonhardt. Collisions. Skating. Awkward Conversations. Figure Skating AU. 2235 words. (ao3.)

Annie Leonhardt’s coach reminds her that ice time is precious and too valuable to be wasted. So when she arrives at the rink in the early hours of the morning, her mind is focused on only one thing and one thing only. 

Other dedicated skaters in her age group filter into the rink as she does, most accompanied by parents who look just as groggy as their children at this time of day. 

Annie keeps her headphones on as she stretches and practices a few off-ice jumps. The zamboni is smoothing out the ice as she works. Sometimes she’ll look away from her meticulous routine and glance up to see the driver. She’s gotten quite used to seeing her father on the vehicle — he’ll even wave to her on occasion with the same glum expression on his face. Even this early, his resting bitch face remains the same. 

But Annie’s used to seeing the grumpy old man performing such an integral task. Ultimately, he does what he does to support her career — driving the zamboni every morning in exchange for coaching discounts has been the edge she’s always appreciated. 

Once Annie laces up her skates and gets onto her ice, she can feel her worries becoming moot. A part of her — one plagued by stress, loneliness, and doubts — fades away as she glides. She’s never been able to explain it, but it’s helped her through every lutz and every loop, every sit-spin and every euler, every waltz jump and every flip. 

Annie’s rinkmates file onto the ice with her. The dancers and pairs skaters are moving hand-in-hand, while the other singles get lost in their own world as they warm up. 

As Annie keeps her distance, she only glances up briefly to get a look at everyone else. 

Pieck Finger seems to have the energy to chat her partner’s ear off as they get into the zone, but Porco Galliard doesn’t seem to mind. Historia Reiss is standing near the boards as she chats with her coach, who is already awake and ready to give notes on her triple salchow. Mikasa Ackerman has a focused look on her face as she skates next to her partner, and in contrast Jean Kirschtein still looks uneasy as he keeps up with her. Annie doesn’t know the whole story, but perhaps the excitement and newness of a partner switch had yet to fade off for him, despite having skated with Mikasa for the last two months. 

Then he comes to the ice. 

Annie glances up to see a familiar head of blond hair stepping onto the rink. Armin Arlert says a thank you to his grandfather at the boards before he glides towards the center of the area. 

And just like that, Annie feels a knot forming in her stomach. 

Unlike the stoic determination of Ackerman or the perky energy of Finger, Armin is somewhere in the middle as he eases onto the ice. He is neither chipper without reason or so focused that all joy saps from his face. Instead, Armin looks free. 

Annie tries to avoid his gaze whenever she passes him by, instead looking towards the bleachers, where her father sits next to Grampa Arlert. 

She tries to distract herself by recalling her choreography. Her coach had finally let her do a program to her favorite Tchaikovsky Waltz, but only if she worked on her musicality and facial expressions. Instead of arguing on whether the judges would deduct points for her lack of smile as she skated, Annie took Coach Zeke on the deal and promised to follow through. 

She only has a few minutes to practice her triple-triple combination until Zeke arrives at the rink. After landing her flip and just barely needing to touch the ice to steady her landing, she glides backwards on one skate as her body stabilizes herself. 

In her mind, she goes over absolutely everything that went wrong, from the way she didn’t hold her arms inwards enough during the spin or popped her lutz on the first attempt. She tries not to think about how her father is no doubt watching from the bleachers, or how Historia must be getting an explanation as to how Annie ranked half a point under her at last year's nationals. 

Suddenly, Annie hears a voice behind her. 

“Whoa, whoa!” 

Turning around, Annie is brought to the face of Armin Arlert. This time, the knot in her stomach tightens for completely different reasons.

The two manage to come to a halt, the blades of their skates turning the ice below into snow. Armin has to put his hands up to fully stop, his hands touching Annie’s shoulders to prevent them from colliding. 

“Sorry about that, Annie, I wasn’t looking!” Armin says, his tone sounding unendingly apologetic. 

The stoic face that Annie usually holds during morning practice falters, but only slightly. Her gaze goes soft as she looks towards Armin. 

“It’s okay,” she replies in a voice that is quiet and gravelly. 

When she glances around the rink, Annie can see the other skaters paying attention to them. Mikasa comes down from a curve lift in Jean’s arms, then looks over to the duo of blondes with genuine concern. Even Historia stares at the pair in the aftermath of her double axel-triple lutz combo, the puzzled look on her face saying it all. 

When Annie looks at Armin again, she sees his cheeks turning red. He takes his hands off her shoulders and stumbles back slightly. 

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… hope I didn’t hurt you…”

Before Annie can say anything, she sees Coach Zeke entering the rink in the corner of her eye. He doesn’t look particularly enthused this morning, as he practically drags his feet across the floor and holds a coffee cup like it’s his lifeforce. 

It gives Annie extra incentive to not waste time, so when her gaze meets Armin’s again she says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“...I have to go.” 

And with that said, Annie turns around and skates off. At least her blush on her face fades away by the time she meets Zeke at the boards.

…

…

…

An hour of harness work to perfect her triple toe loop-triple salchow goes by with ease. Zeke is extra pushy today, meticulously pointing out the flaws in her footwork between elements. The half point that lost her gold at last year’s nationals seems to be nagging at his brain harder than hers, something that makes him even more stern as he watches her skate. 

But Annie’s good at taking it, even when she falls more than she would like. 

At least when practice is over, she finds herself actually looking forward to spending the rest of the day at school. 

Annie steps off the ice and finds a bench to sit on. As she unlaces her skates, she can see her other rinkmates either cooling down after a session or practicing their elements off-ice. Seeing Porco lifting Pieck in the air with a single arm is just one of the things that Annie has gotten used to over the years. Pieck even smirks and waves down to Annie like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

As Pieck jokingly sings about how she’s had the time of her life, Annie leaves the rink and heads for the locker room to retrieve her things. 

With her gym bag slung around her torso, she nibbles on a protein cookie as she enters the building’s concourse. A text from her fathers tells her that he’s getting the car, as he had parked far away due to not finding a space in the actual lot. 

If there were three certainties in life, then it would be death, taxes, and Albert Leonhardt complaining about parking. 

Annie exits the rink and waits by the doors. Moments pass as she finishes her post-training snack. Her body is aching and it makes her dread the conditioning session that awaits her tomorrow. She’s not sure what will hurt more, her core or her hip flexors. 

As she waits, she looks up to the sky and sees the sun just barely rising in the cloudy horizon. Michigan at this time of year is slowly transitioning from winter to spring, but the chill still permeates the air and makes Annie blow on her fingers to keep herself warm. 

Before she can put on her headphones and block out the world, she feels someone tapping her shoulder. 

Annie turns around fast and Armin puts his hands up in surprise. 

“Whoa! Uh, hi…” he stammers out. “Uh… just wanted to check in and see if you were alright… again.” 

There is a beat as Annie recollects herself. She tries to pinpoint why she’s so on edge this morning, but for the life of her she can’t. 

On the ice, Armin Arlert is the embodiment of grace and balance. His slender frame glides across the surface with ease, effortlessly leaping and transitioning into spins, which are undoubtedly his speciality. 

But off the ice, Armin is nothing more than a skinny high schooler in a parka that’s a size too big. His blond locks are mussed and his disposition is nervous, a far cry from the usual composure he shows in his craft. 

“I’m fine,” Annie manages to say. “Thanks for asking, Armin.” 

“Good to know,” he replies, nodding along. “Nice sal, by the way.”

Annie avoids his gaze. “I’m still popping it.” She prays to god that he didn’t catch her eating shit on the ice during her harness work.  

“You’re on the way though, especially after the triple toe,” Armin assures. His voice is lighthearted as he speaks. “I’d give some pointers, but Zeke seems to know what he’s doing.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” Annie says dryly. Awkwardly, she looks down and keeps avoiding his eyes. “I never see you at school.”

“I’m homeschooled, actually,” Armin explains. He puts his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Gives me more time at the rink.” 

Annie lets out a hum. “Not a bad idea.” 

Truth be told, it would be nice having an excuse to only ever commute between her house and the rink. 

When Annie looks up again, Armin’s eyes are a shimmering blue. She’s never noticed them before — then again, she’s never been this close to him before. 

Despite their years training at the same rink, Annie realizes now that this may be the first conversation she’s ever had with the guy, aside from passing comments on one another’s jumps. She’s only ever watched him from afar, admiring his camel spins and ability to truly embody the music of his program. 

With the way Armin is looking at her now, Annie wonders if he’s ever done the same. 

Soon she asks, “Why are you talking to me?”

The question is very direct, but Armin is nonplussed as he smiles boyishly. 

“Because I thought it’s the least I could do after almost knocking you off your feet.”

And to think, all these competitions and training sessions they spent in proximity to each other and it took a near-collision for them to finally talk. 

Once more, Annie can feel heat rushing to her cheeks. She steadies her breathing, the atmosphere is cold enough to turn the air from her lungs into small puffs of smoke. Nervously, she rubs her ungloved hands together again to warm her fingers. 

Watching her closely, Armin scratches his nape again before asking — “Hey, would you ever want to-”

He is cut off by the sound of a car horn. Both blondes turn their heads to the parking lot to see Annie’s father pulling up in his car. His face is stern as he waves to his daughter from the driver’s seat. 

Annie faces Armin again, but glances down just enough to not look him in the eye. “...I have to go.” 

With that said, she dashes away from the curb and towards her father’s car. When she opens the door and plops her ass in the passenger’s seat, Annie only looks back for a second to see Armin’s wistful stare and his gentle, stilted wave goodbye. 

Beside her, Albert Leonhardt has an eyebrow raised at both his daughter and the young boy standing outside. 

“What did he want?” asks the older man as he shifts the car into gear.

“Nothing,” Annie lies through her teeth. Sucking in a breath, she tugs her hoodie over her head and pulls the strings tight to truly block out the world. 

…

…

…

Historia Reiss exits the rink like she usually does — bored, tired, and checking Instagram. At least she follows Coach Nanaba’s “no phones at practice” rule to a tee. 

Just as she shares a story about her early morning training session, she nearly bumps into someone standing on the curb outside the building. Looking away from her screen, Historia is greeted to the sight of Armin Arlert wistfully waving to a car pulling out of the parking lot. 

Historia is confused and glances towards the vehicle to see what on earth is going on. 

In the moving car, Historia spots Annie Leonhardt pulling her hoodie over her head and curling into herself like a human armadillo. 

Combined with the longing look in Armin’s eyes, Historia’s first reaction is to let out a chuckle. With her elbow, she nudges her rinkmate and says —

“Blondes, amiright?” 

[madwickedawesome]

i need classical music recs for a tragic love story

NOT putting this under a cut actually because i wish to curse everyone's dashes with these songs . they are all so good please listen to them if you like classical pretty please with like 3 cherries on top!!!!

anywaysOK!! a lot of these songs may seem like regurgitated Sad Classical Music that i use for everything but u have to trust me . when u listen to some of these in a Mood ur entire soul will be crushed i Promise u u have to trust me u have to believe m

i didnt know what Specific vibe u wanted so i kind of took my own creative liberties hope thats alright .. !!Also youre going to have to ignore how LONG classical names are

rachmaninoff - rhapsody on a theme by paganini, op. 43: var 18 (andante cantabile) --- this song plays moreso into the love story part of it but this piece is genuinely sooo beautiful (as are all of rachmaninoffs works lets be honest here).. it is SO romantic it kind of feels like being with someone you love and feeling fireworks and explosions upon realizing you love them, it's very very very lovesick and goes to show the giddy feeling of knowing someone is making you and your life better just by being near you <3

albinoni - adagio in g minor --- this specific arrangement in my playlist is my favoriteee ever.. it uses both harp and general orchestral strings to complete an overwhelmingly Emptying piece of music . this song is very like. "i'm lost without them" kind of thing.it's so melancholy but it also just emphasis any holes in a listener's heart; it's kind of boring if you listen to it while you're in a good mood? but Trust me if you're even remotely sad or yearning you will LOVE love love this piece

ravel - pavane pour une infante défunte, m. 19 (pavane for a dead princess) --- this one is another Especially Life Ruining If You're In The Mood piece; as the name suggests, it's a pavane (slow dance, essentially) which already gives it a lovely undertone, but it's for a Dead Princess and is full of grief and is notoriously played excruciatingly slowly. this song really feels like loss, whether it's post-argument or post-relationship or post-right-person-wrong-time, it emphasizes the feeling of being without someone in retrospect and how different emotions manifest themselves. some points in the song are lovely, full of reminiscing on memories of happiness, but the whole song has a freezing blanket thrown over it to remind everyone that it's for a Dead Princess and a Dead Connection

grieg - holberg suite, op. 40: iv. air (andante religioso) --- this piece is just generally soul crushing??? it feels like the air after particularly heartbreaking disputes, losses, rejections, all the like .......?? it generally carries an emptying vibe like the others do, but this one is laced with love through the middle, showing complexities in relationships and how love is inescapable, despite obstacles

cimarosa - sonata no. 42 in d minor --- this piece is short but sweet..... this is mostly a lovey song, but has a vague melancholy vibe if you really listen.. i always love to interpret this song as looking back on memories with a loved one and realizing just how much you miss them, how dull life is without them happy and right by your side . a quite simple piece but it illustrates the vibe perfectly :)

shostakovich - five pieces for two violins and piano: i. prelude --- about 30% of this reasoning behind this song is that it's shostakovich and i must have him inall of my playlists because he is my special guy. BUT this song is So many emotions . it is so heartbreaking initially, briefly grows into moderately upbeat happiness, then returns to a slower tempo soaked in both love and regret. it feels like the air after a loss, the air while missing someone to the point of it eating you alive; it's a gut wrenching rendition of . horrified love ? is the word that came to mind? it is so Sad

tchaikovsky - valse sentimentale, op. 51, no. 6 --- this song is just. emotional . it's full of love and you can hear the happiest parts of love fighting the worst, it's suffocating and captivating all the same??? i'm not 100% sure how i'd place this piece into a situation . maybe desperate pleas with oneself or another to be loved, to experience connection, something like that??? all that's to be sure is that this piece makes chests constrict it is so full of love and care and life but is simultaneously so full of despair and pain and ouuguhgh i just adore this piece really

poulenc - flute sonata, fp 164: ii. cantilena --- this piece is so sad it is so sad. it feels like the realization that you may be losing someone, whether it's to another or to nature or to life or really anything. halfway through, it evolves into more of a hopeful piece, with a flute sounding like a bird singing, but still falls down the steep downhill slope that Will make you So distraught if you listen to this while in the right mood

the entirety of prokofiev's romeo and juliet ballet --- this is mostly a joke but also. juliets death piece (it was WAY too long to put in here) is so heartbreaking so ..? stares at you with big classical loving eyes?

here's all of those wrapped up neatly with a little bow !! (tumblr refuses to let me link directly for some reason???) i hope they work for you!!!!

[queer-goddess-of-the-hunt]

Raeda: An Owl House Playlist

Spotify Link

This playlist is a combination of songs that suite the ship and the characters as individuals. I love these two so much.

As always, I will probably continue to update this playlist over time, feel free to send me suggestions.

List of songs and quotes/explanations under the cut :)

Your Song from Moulin Rouge! The Musical “And you can tell everybody this is your song; It may be quite simple but now that it's done; I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind; That I put down in words; How wonderful life is while you're in the world” I specifically chose this version because it uses strings instead of piano.

 Eda’s Requiem and Raine’s Rhapsody - Epic Orchestral Cover by Kāru It is literally their song, I had to.

Thank You For The Music by ABBA “What would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music; For giving it to me” This song is very close to me as a singer, so as a Raine kinnie, I had to.

Love Of My Life by Queen “You will remember when this is blown over; And everything's all by the way; When I grow older, I will be there at your side; To remind you how I still love you (I still love you)” Ouch, here’s the first bit of angst. The part that I quoted in particular I think applies heavily to these two. Also, pretty string in the beginning.

I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry “I used to hear a simple song; That was until you came along; Now in it's place is something new; I hear it when I look at you” This is an absolutely stunning piece (as is every single song by Cody Fry) and the lyrics fit so well with Raeda.

Bird Set Free by Sia “And I don't care if I sing off key; I find myself in my melodies; I sing for love, I sing for me; I shout it out like a bird set free”

Witch Hunt by VISTA “I'm running like the whole damn world's on a witch hunt; Throwing stones and blaming; Secrets in the closet, send demons on the run; With bloodlust, bloodlust; How am I to know who to trust, who to trust?” I think this song just fits the BATS/CATS really well in general.

Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives “There are times when I still wonder about you; You are someone I have loved, but never known; And you'll never see the reasons I had; For keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you” This entire song fits well, with Eda hiding her curse from Raine causing them to break up in the first place. I also blame this animatic for this song being in this playlist.

My Love, My Life by ABBA “I've watched you look away; Tell me, is it really so hard to say? Oh, this has been my longest day; Sitting here close to you; Knowing that maybe tonight we're through” This part is clearly the moment Raine broke up with Eda. “You are still my love and my life; Still my one and only” Yet after all this time, they still love each other.

Songbird by Fleetwood Mac “ And the songbirds are singing, Like they know the score; And I love you, I love you, I love you; Like never before”

In Our Bedroom After The War by Stars “Listen, the birds sing, listen, the bells ring; All the living are dead, and the dead are all living; The war is over and we are beginning”  New beginnings.

Six Pieces, Op, 51, TH 143: VI. Valse sentimentale. Tempo di Valse by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Gorgeous piece by Tchaikovsky, one of my favorites, and it’s a violin version. Valse sentimentale translates to Sentimental Waltz. Take from that what you will.

I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston I think the song title speaks for itself honestly.

I Write the Songs by Barry Manilow “My home lies deep within you; And I've got my own place in your soul; Now when I look out through your eyes; I'm young again, even though I'm very old” As I was making this playlist, I was trying to thing of any music related songs and this came to mind. This particular verse works well.

City Of Stars from La La Land “City of stars; Are you shining just for me? City of stars; There's so much that I can't see”

trust by Christina Perri “Words that hurt the ones you're lovin’; Hatred for who you’re becomin’; I knew better than, yes; I knew better than; To trust myself; To trust someone else” Eda was so determined to hide the truth from Raine.

Take Flight by Lindsey Stirling Another beautiful violin piece. I mostly chose this one for the title, but it in an amazing piece.

Paper Rings by Taylor Swift “I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings; Uh huh, that's right; Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this; Uh huh, that's right; Darling, you're the one I want” Eda loves shiny things and Raine, what else can I say?

Francis Forever by Mitski “On sunny days I go out walking; I end up on a tree-lined street; I look up at the gaps of sunlight; I miss you more than anything” They really miss each other after the breakup.

Stormy Weather by Etta James “ Don't know why; There's no sun up in the sky; Stormy weather; Since my man and I ain't together; Keeps raining all of the time”

We’ll Meet Again by She & Him “ We'll meet again; Don't know where; Don't know when; But I know we'll meet again some sunny day”

My Heart Is Buried In Venice by Ricky Montgomery “ Now my heart is buried in Venice; Waiting for someone to take it home” “Say, say what you mean; Tell me the truth or tell me you're through”

Ready Now by dodie “Feet firm on the ground; We stood hand in hand; And I told the world; That I have a plan; Together, we sang; "I'm ready, now"”

Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper “After my picture fades and darkness has; Turned to gray; Watching through windows; You're wondering if I'm okay”

Bad Reputation by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts “I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation; Living in the past, it's a new generation; A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do” This is fully an Eda song.

Right Back Where We Started From by Maxine Nightingale “Do you remember that day (that sunny day); When you first came my way? I said no one could take your place; And if you get hurt (if you get hurt); By the little things I say; I can put that smile back on your face” This is a much more upbeat one, they deserve to be happy after everything.

Demons by Imagine Dragons “ I wanna hide the truth; I wanna shelter you; But with the beast inside; There's nowhere we can hide” The owl beast.

Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches “The way you rock, don't stop; Girl, you got the chops; Flip-flop, she bops, self-taught; You look so hot” Honestly, who wouldn’t want to be the owl lady?

Cherry Bomb by The Runaways “Can't stay at home, can't stay at school; Old folks say, "You poor little fool"; Down the streets I'm the girl next door; I'm the fox you've been waiting for” Young Eda? Young Eda.

This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) by Natalie Cole “I'm so glad, you found me in time; And I'm so glad that you've rectified my mind; This will be, an everlasting love for me” They get a second chance!

Mary On A Cross by Ghost “You go down just like Holy Mary; Mary on a, Mary on a cross; Your beauty never ever scared me; Mary on a, Mary on a cross”

W.I.T.C.H. by Devon Cole “ She don't wanna be anybody else; She's a woman in total control of herself; It's such a wonder to be under her spell; What a woman, in total control of herself” Honestly, I’m such an Eda simp, I’m not ashamed to say it.

I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone “I put a spell on you; Because you're mine” I had to include it (I stand by the fact that the Nina version is the superior version.)

Venus Fly Trap by MARINA “ Don't underestimate me; 'Cause one day you're gonna see you're in a losing battle; Babe, you'll never stop me being me; I got the beauty, got the brains; Got the power, hold the reins; I should be motherfuckin' crazy; Nothing in this world could change me” Hell yes, Eda, keep being you.

Roundtable Rival by Lindsey Stirling Violin! It’s my favorite instrument to listen to, I’m so glad Raine plays violin. Also, this song is just really cool.

Thus Always To Tyrants by The Oh Hellos “Let me die, let me drown, lay my bones in the ground; I will still come around when the time for sleep is through; Over hill, over dale, through the valley and vale; Do not weep, do not wail, I am coming home to you”  I love the title of this song.

ilomilo by Billie Eilish “ I tried not to upset you; Let you, rescue, me the day I met you; I just wanted to protect you; But now I'll never get to”

Seven Nation Army by 2CELLOS

Still into You by Paramore “ I should be over all the butterflies; But I'm into you (I'm into you); And baby even on our worst nights; I'm into you (I'm into you); Let 'em wonder how we got this far; 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all; Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you”

Dream Sweet in Sea Major by Miracle Musical “She knows you heard her; Staging music murder; In line before the show began; To be where I am; Children born of one emotion; Our devotion's deepest ocean; No division reasoned we'll be free”  This is less to do with the lyrics and more to do with it being an epic piece with lots of strings.

You Found Me by The Fray “In the end, everyone ends up alone; Losin' her, the only one who's ever known; Who I am, who I'm not, and who I wanna be; No way to know how long she will be next to me”

Soldier, Poet, King by The Oh Hellos The lyrics are irrelevant, I just think this is a fun song that they would play and dance to.

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) by Journey “ Someday love will find you; True love won't desert you; You know I still love you; Though we touched and went our separate ways”

When We Were Young by Adele “Let me photograph you in this light; In case it is the last time; That we might be exactly like we were; Before we realized; We were scared of getting old; It made us restless; It was just like a movie; It was just like a song”

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Modern music genres are continuously evolving and catering to the latest trends. But classical music remains an influential pillar of music history and continues to offer unbeatable value in wonderful ways. 

This blog will explore classical music's superpower and how it still dominates other music styles. 

1. Rich legacy

Classical music is a genre that has existed since the medieval period.

Its compositions have left an excellent mark on the music and the wide culture of dance, art, and cinema. 

But have you ever considered why classical music stays unbeatable while other music styles come and go? 

The simple answer is in the depth and complexity of the classical music. 

It mostly tells stories without words and delivers a beautiful exploration of human feelings and events all through melody and harmony. 

Though it is a mix of rising triumphs of a symphony order, classical music captures human emotions excellently while making it relevant today.

To make your classical music journey more intriguing, join the expert professionals of the Spardha School of Music now!

2. Integration and influence in the modern age

You may be surprised to know that classical music greatly influences modern genres. 

The structures and styles of classical compositions inspire many rock, pop, and film beats. 

Classical music is felt in the highly sweeping orchestras of famous films like Star Wars or The Lord of the Rings. 

These soundtracks evoke the same intensity as well as emotion that showed the work of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky. 

3. Enhancing Cognitive Abilities

Besides its cultural impact, classical music can be scientifically proven to have several cognitive benefits. 

Some studies show that just listening to classical music may develop concentration and memory and can even help reduce stress. 

That’s why many people still listen to it while studying or working. 

One example is the so-called ‘Mozart Effect,’ which implies that listening to Mozart's compositions can improve intellectual performance, especially in spatial reasoning tasks.

In a world full of distractions, classical music today provides an environment for focused studying. 

No wonder many people find peace in the music pieces of famous composers while they work!

4. A Tool for Emotional Healing

In today’s time, mental health has become one of the most critical issues. 

Music therapy with classical music boosts emotional healing. 

With its slow tempos and calming rhythms, classical music reduces anxiety, lowers blood pressure, and provides ease and comfort to people in emotional turmoil.

The therapeutic value of classical music makes it a relevant remedy for stress, mental well-being, and overall emotional balance challenges.

5. Keeping the Tradition Alive

Classical music may not be popular on the charts today, but that doesn’t mean it’s become an outdated art form. 

Professional musicians and casual listeners alike still enjoy classical music through digital media in orchestral halls or within academic settings. 

The digital world has made it easier to access this music than ever before. 

Today, streaming services provide millions of classical tracks at your fingertips. 

Moreover, online music lessons allow anyone, regardless of age, to learn about and appreciate this genre from home.

But, do you know? Classical music never stops developing. 

Current composers mix classics with modern technology and develop new music pieces that can touch the souls of modern people and honor the richness of classical elements.

6. Conclusion

So, classical music continues to influence modern music, helping our brains function better. It is also supposed to have the potential to promote emotional healing. 

As we continue trying to look deeper into things with more insight and feelings, probably in art, the impact of classical music would be felt even more. 

So, add some classical music to your playlist the next time you listen. 

Who knows? 

The music from a few centuries ago still speaks to you in a way that modern music never can.

Join an engaging world of classical music at the Spardha School of Music Now!