#yes maybe i DO want to dress like a wizard. specifically like sword in the stone vacation merlin.
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finally. the ads understand what we want
#musings#this is the first one i have seen that feels remotely relevant to site culture#yes maybe i DO want to dress like a wizard. specifically like sword in the stone vacation merlin.
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OMFFFFG the dnd roleplay!!!
ok, serious, THAT is what spicy byler fandom needs. not just because its hot, but because its literally so in character, and it's .... like that IS real. and yeah you could say its the most explicit kind of sexualisation of their childhood selves so far because of the dnd associations in the show, but you could also say the show itself is a horrorification (and sexualisation if you read the metaphor a certain way) of their childhood gameplay. so...
and yes its so cringe but the best freaking kind, the kind the show gives you! i was only cringing on their behalf rather than out of my own guilt which i do still get a bit of when i enjoy anything spicy byler lol. and weirdly its even hotter BECAUSE its not just for us. because its for them, so in character, it becomes hotter? yessssss youve done it
and theres no WAY that will, who draws real-person fanart about their party lol, has never fantasised about this. i mean, his very painting is a fantasy put to canvas. and mike with that paladin sword.... oh, you knowwwww that there's gonna be some dirty talk about swords somewhere... * shudder * who knows, maybe them creating these characters was even will's sexual awakening about mike? imagining him in these courageous contexts etc
the use of will's magic in their dirty talk hehehe im imagining them actually writing a whole mini scenario to play out, not even just getting lost in the moment but properly planning it sometimes cos they couldnt believe how hot it was first time it happened 🙊🙊 (ok now i need to know who instigated the first time. pre-party meet up too! these boys are wild). and also - they way they bounce off each other at suzie's in the show? theyre TELLING us that these two can roleplay! so why not sexy too when theyre older? yessssssss correct
i cringed with joy at the way you wrote this. perfection. sometimes i bad-cringe at the impersonal-ness of byler smut with pet names anyone in the world could use, cos its so easy for them to stop being mike and will and start being random bodies having sex, but this specificity feels like its so them and it could only be them.
using their dnd names??? ACCENTS????? 😭 i'm imaginging their idea of king arthur british medieval ahhhhhhh
+ partially dressed in costume????? the wizard hat falling off immediately when will bounces?? his floopy flowing robes just hiked up over his thighs?????????? that's period drama-level sex right there, even better than totally naked. mike just having a bit of armour over his shoulders, nothing else? ughhhhhh
honestly i have never been in nerd culture like this irl, but i can totally see how fantasy would develop from childhood to adulthood like this... its natural for everyone because imagination and pretend play in childhood is often lost as we grow (unless someone is a creative/artist/imagination-forward adult) and the only place that playfulness remains for many folk is through sexual expression. sex is where adults play. so why the heck not this for byler? its so on track i literally am so excited to see what you do with this, not least because perhaps for these boys, this is one of the only ways they can reclaim their love of this game after all the trauma they went through. beautiful 😭😭😭
This ask was sent back in early June after this post and a bunch of chatter about potentially writing a fic expanding on the idea. I draft and forget so many asks (oops, sorry 🫣) and thought I might have had s relevant one stashed away. I hope you're still around, maybe you're someone who's made a blog between then and now! This was all before I even planned an official outline and I thought... would it be crazy if I expanded on the idea? Hilarious. I have so many other wips in the works but I don't think I want to fully leave our little role-playing nerds behind. I'll drop random drabbles about that whole vibe over time when inspiration strikes. Love everything about these two boys.
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Hand-to-hand combat
Summary: Laxus wants to fight Freed. Specifically, he wants to fight hand to hand, feel Freed’s muscles and his physical strength. The reason is his business. [Canon]
Link: AO3
Notes: Prompt: Dirty fight/Sweet love.
Hey! This piece has sexual themes, but there’s nothing explicit. It’s the first story I wrote for Fraxus Week and definitely the one I enjoyed writing the most, so I hope you like it too :D
Hand-to-hand combat
Laxus was used to seeing people training. He had spent his entire life doing it, women, men, experienced wizards, children, any fight was a good opportunity to learn something new. So, he was used to seeing muscular men punching and kicking each other, and while Laxus had occasionally felt aroused by those shows, he had never felt like he did in that moment.
His throat was completely dry, and his eyes didn’t want to leave the sight of Freed and Bickslow fighting hand-to-hand. In particular, his eyes didn’t want to detach himself from Freed’s figure, from his naked back to which his long hair tied in a ponytail was stuck, from his strong biceps that were holding Bickslow firm to the ground, and from his tight thighs in gym trousers that Laxus wasn’t used to seeing on Freed.
Maybe that was why he was so upset, because Freed didn’t usually wear so few layers. Usually, Freed was dressed from head to toe, long coat and baggy pants. But at that moment he was shirtless, and those damn sweatpants were too revealing.
Freed pushed his knee against Bickslow’s torso, and that only made his pants stretch around his ass. That damn ass Laxus suddenly wanted to get his hands on.
Shit.
“You need to improve,” Freed said, standing up and extending a hand to Bickslow, who grabbed it and got to his feet.
“You always say that,” he moaned as he rubbed his neck.
“Because it’s true, you rely too much on your magic,” Freed said, raising his arms to tie his hair, and his biceps flexed and his chest widened and Laxus was completely fascinated. At that moment the two friends turned to him and smiled. But if Freed’s smile was clearly genuine - and made Laxus’ heart do strange things - Bickslow’s was clearly derisive.
Laxus tried to recover from his trance, only to realize that he was… excited? Oh shit.
“Do you want to join?” Freed asked.
“Nah,” Laxus said, trying not to pause to watch the drops of sweat travel through each groove of Freed’s chest. Had he always been this muscular? Of course, and Laxus knew it, it wasn’t the first time he had seen him naked - they had gone to the spa together several times. But something about naked Freed fighting was hot.
As in a slow-motion scene, he again saw Freed grab Bickslow by the shoulder, his legs buckle, and Bickslow fall to the ground. Biceps tighten, forearms thicken, pants tighten and holy shit if that was hot.
Freed fighting was hot. Freed letting go of his more controlled soul, his elegant and planned magic, to be more raw, instinctive and wild was hot.
Laxus felt himself burn.
“Everything’s fine?” Freed asked genuinely concerned, and Laxus quickly turned around before the friend could even look down at his crotch.
“Yes, I just remembered that I have to go to the old man,” he said waving goodbye, and walking away. As he walked quickly, the scene of Freed knocking Bickslow out of action repeated itself in his head a second time, and Laxus found himself wishing he were Bickslow.
***
Laxus knew he wasn’t training as usual, he was making less use of lightning magic to attack Freed up close, punch him, and drag him to the ground with only physical strength. It wasn’t a question of strategy - Freed was as good in hand-to-hand combat as he was in ranged combat - it was more a matter of feeling Freed’s body against him. Freed’s strong, muscular, and toned body.
A punch hit him in the face and Freed freed himself from his grip, drawing runes with his hands. His sword was on the ground not far away, Laxus had pulled it away by force, just to force the friend to fight hand to hand. It wasn’t working out very well, because Freed was obviously skilled and calculating.
Laxus just hoped he wasn’t noticing what he was doing, but he doubted it. No one would suspect anything, he was known to be obsessed with fighting, no matter what kind it was.
He dodged the rune by destroying it with a bolt of lightning before it touched his skin, and then lunged back at Freed, charging the lightning bolts to his feet. When he caught up with him, Laxus managed to punch him in the stomach, then grab him around the waist - and fuck, if it was hot to feel those muscles - and push him to the ground. He was about to block him but Freed kicked him in the stomach, forcing Laxus to loosen his grip.
It was a mistake, because Freed quickly reversed the situation, freeing himself from his grip and standing up, his eye was already glowing purple and that too made him hot, but Laxus would have preferred to feel a punch rather than a rune on his body.
But before Freed could complete any spells, Laxus gave him a jolt that destabilized Freed for a moment. Laxus stood up, and covering his hands in lightning, again grabbed Freed by the shoulder and pushed him into a tree.
Freed had no way of reacting - lightning was a big problem - and before the magic really hurt Freed, Laxus turned Freed face-to-face against the tree, pushing him and... it wasn’t a great move.
Like, not at all.
Laxus had Freed’s muscular back practically against his chest, his shirt was ripped and drops of sweat were running down his back, past the waistband and probably making it all the way to the curve of that ass that completely filled those goddamn sweatpants.
Laxus’ thighs kept Freed from moving, and he was still holding Freed still, one hand locking his arm, the other around his neck. Laxus had won, and Freed was completely helpless. Laxus could literally do anything right now, kick his ass, kill him, fuck him.
Shit.
Laxus had definitely lost control, his pants felt tight.
He quickly broke away from Freed before his friend noticed.
“I won,” he decided.
“I could free myself,” Freed replied turning around, out of breath and dirt on his face. He ran a hand over his jaw and Laxus swallowed hard as his eyes flickered from Freed’s terribly inviting lips, to the shirt ripped, hiding nothing.
“I could have easily wrung your neck,” Laxus said.
“As if you could,” Freed scoffed.
“We both know I can do it,” Laxus said arrogantly, and for some reason that conversation was only making him harder. Maybe it was Freed’s half-naked, sweaty body, maybe it was his irresistible arrogance, Laxus had no idea. He only knew that he felt on fire, and the thought of fucking Freed against the tree didn’t want to leave his head. That was becoming a big deal, Laxus had to divert his thoughts.
“Just accept your defeat, not that you have a way to win against me,” he said.
Freed frowned. “I remind you that I won the last training session,” he said with great calm and satisfaction.
Laxus grunted. “It wasn’t a fair fight.”
Freed scoffed at him. “It wasn’t a fair fight? Seriously? I thought the God of Thunder could beat anyone in any way, and he didn’t want any advantage.”
Laxus snorted, he couldn’t really argue, it was he who asked Freed to draw some runes that would take him to the limit. It was the only way he could improve, but that made Freed too arrogant at times.
Laxus paused, a brilliant idea in mind. Before he could actually think about what he was saying he was already talking.
“From next time we will have hand-to-hand combat,” he decided. Not because he wanted to touch Freed’s body. Well, maybe for that too, but mostly to silence Freed’s conceited mouth.
“For what reason? I thought you wanted to fight in situations unfavorable to you,” Freed said with a raised eyebrow.
Laxus shrugged. “I’ve already trained enough with my magic, I need physical combat.”
Freed stared at him with an indecipherable expression, then shrugged. “If that’s what you want,” he just said.
***
Laxus’s decision had perhaps been the best idea of his entire life. Fighting hand-to-hand with Freed, without any use of magic, was simply thrilling. Feeling Freed’s muscles tense against his, the force against his body, his blows getting wilder, was all Laxus wanted.
Best of all, Laxus had managed to rip Freed’s shirt off. He’d done it in a subtle way, of course, so now Laxus had more skin to touch, and more material to be distracted with, to be honest, but still. There was no way Freed could beat him.
Laxus was taking a moment to pause and catching his breath as he watched Freed do the same, in attack position. With his shirt in tatters and his chest rising rhythmically, his abs flexing. And the long hair, attached in a fucking sexy way to Freed’s body.
Honestly, Laxus didn’t understand why Freed insisted on hiding his well-defined body under that coat. He was depriving the world of perfect vision. Or at least, he was depriving Laxus of that.
The moment of distraction earned him a punch, and Laxus staggered back as Freed loaded his full weight and dropped him to the ground. Shit, just because he had focused on those muscles. Muscles that now were holding him still with his back on the ground.
Laxus took another moment to look at Freed, his face above him, his knee pressed against his stomach. Freed’s hair tickled his chest and Laxus wanted to grab it, or turn the tables.
“It’s not your day.” Freed smiled arrogantly and, oh, how wrong he was.
Laxus headbutted to Freed, who moaned and released his grip, and the Dragon Slayer immediately took the opportunity to tip the wizard under him, trying not to put too much closeness between his groin and Freed’s body because otherwise the friend would have definitely realized why that wasn’t his day.
“You spoke too soon,” Laxus grinned, but a moment later a push against his shin made him moan. Freed was rapidly changing that again, with a skill and strength that Laxus loved.
He found himself with the back pressed to the ground, his wrists wedged between Freed’s fingers, and Freed’s thighs around his neck.
Laxus gasped for the blow, immediately after the reason why he missed the air was something else.
Holy shit.
Freed’s thighs were around his neck!
“I won, I can choke you easily,” Freed smiled.
And Laxus would have fun, he thought, puzzled, embarrassed and terribly excited. Freed was looking at him with that victorious smile, the one that Laxus sometimes wanted to make disappear, but in that moment, it was the most beautiful and exciting thing that had happened to him.
And the worst part was that Laxus couldn’t break free, unless he rolled over and took Freed with him, but at the risk of making him feel what was going on in his lower parts and… that would be terribly humiliating.
“Well, you won,” he grumbled, and Freed laughed and stood up.
Laxus hurried to sit up, in a position that hid his problem.
“So, you said I didn’t have a chance to win in hand-to-hand combat, do you have to say something?” Freed mocked. The bastard.
“Tsk, just because I got distracted,” Laxus said, and Freed chuckled.
“You just don’t want to admit your defeat.”
Laxus glared at him, he was really distracted! But admitting that would have been more humiliating than admitting that he had lost.
“You have won once, don’t freak out.”
Freed smiled. “You’re right, we have a lot more fights to do.”
And the tone in which he said that, sent an adrenaline rush through Laxus’ body.
***
“Isn’t this your day either?” Freed scoffed, holding him firmly against a tree trunk. Laxus was really tempted to shock him, but it would be cheating, and Freed wouldn’t let him live. He didn’t know why he had found himself in that unfavorable position, maybe because he was distracted looking at Freed’s legs, but could he really be blamed?
Ever since Laxus had ripped his friend’s pants - absolutely unintentionally - the Dragon Slayer saw Freed’s thighs tense with every slightest movement, the veins in his calves widen and luckily only one leg of the suit was ripped up to above the knee.
Which, however, was enough to distract Laxus.
“You speak too soon,” Laxus grunted, elbowing behind him, aiming straight at Freed’s stomach, who was forced to let go and double over. That was the perfect time for Laxus to throw another punch at Freed and make him stagger backwards. Then Laxus pressed on Freed’s shoulder, and with ease pinned him to the ground.
“What did you say?” Laxus grinned arrogantly.
Freed narrowed his gaze, and Laxus knew he had to expect a move from him, which is why he wasn’t too surprised when Freed managed to reverse the situation, rolling him onto his back. Freed was already about to declare his victory. Again, too soon.
Laxus was stronger, they both knew it. Freed might have technique, but Laxus had it too, and as long as he wasn’t too distracted by Freed’s body - a difficult task - he could win. Incredibly he managed not to think about his friend’s shirtless and made them roll again, until his side was pressed against a rock. Even if Freed wanted to repeat the move, he couldn’t. At least, not on that side.
The arrogant smile made its way to Laxus’ face, and with one hand grabbed both of Freed’s wrists, pinning his arms above his head and pinning Freed’s legs with his thighs. His whole body was crushing Freed to the ground, the wizard had no way to move.
“I won,” Laxus said, all the arrogance making its way into his tone.
He really wanted to see what Freed would retort, but incredibly, Freed smiled, completely knocking Laxus off.
It was a smile Laxus had never seen on Freed, a sly and calculated smile that sent a shiver down Laxus’ spine.
“That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Freed’s tone was low, hoarse, and fucking hot. “If you wanted me to lie naked under you, you just had to ask.”
Laxus’ face burned, and he loosened his grip on Freed’s wrists, as this situation was suddenly getting out of his control. What the fuck? Did Freed know?
Oh fuck, Freed knew.
That was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was the problem that was rapidly growing in his pants and Freed would soon feel and...
Laxus felt himself grabbed by his shirt, and a moment later his lips met Freed’s, in an impatient and brutal kiss. That was the moment when Laxus was able to regain control of his body, kissing back and running his hands around Freed’s body. And fuck, it was so much better than the fleeting touches he’d had up to that point. Freed’s skin was sweaty, his muscles tense, and Laxus stopped his hands on Freed’s hips before risking going lower.
When they broke apart Laxus was panting, he was feeling confused and thrilled.
Freed ran his hands across Laxus chest, and Laxus shivered slightly with no idea what to do.
“You’re not subtle at all,” Freed chuckled and then smiled mischievously. “So, you have won. You can do whatever you want with me.”
Laxus gasped.
The tone was sweet, but the promise Freed clearly meant behind made his whole-body burn.
“Shit, Freed,” he whispered excitedly, still unsure what to do. Because even though the idea of finally touching Freed thrilled him, he didn’t think doing it on the ground after fighting was exactly romantic. And it’s not like Laxus was romantic, just… Freed was special.
“I, um.” Laxus cleared his throat. “What do you say if I take you out for dinner?”
Freed raised an eyebrow, perhaps disappointed or puzzled, but nodded. “Of course.”
“Oh, um, good,” Laxus said hoarsely. He didn’t really want to let Freed down. Maybe Freed wanted more, maybe he hoped for fun, maybe the date wasn’t in his plans and he accepted only because he had promised by now, maybe he was just interested in being screwed there, and it’s not that Laxus wasn’t available to do it, he was. Fuck if he was, the thought of stripping Freed of his last clothes and fucking him brutally made Laxus hard and eager and…
“Laxus” Freed’s voice interrupted his thoughts and Laxus met Freed’s gaze, strangely soft eyes as he ran his hand across Laxus’ cheek. “You know I love you, right?”
Laxus’ eyes widened. “Uh…”
Freed gently took his face and brought it back close to him, kissing him softly and slowly, and Laxus melted into it.
“Take me out to dinner, that’s all I was expecting,” Freed revealed, and Laxus smiled. He hid his embarrassment and his happiness in Freed’s neck, holding him close. Freed laughed a little.
“Glad you’re happy, but you’re literally choking me.”
Laxus laughed and sat up, freeing Freed from his body.
“So, admit that I’m stronger than you.”
“Any challenge to feel my muscles, huh?” Freed teased him, and Laxus blushed slightly but laughed when Freed gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
“Dinner first,” he decided.
“Dinner first,” Freed agreed, happiness sparkling in his eyes.
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I TALKED TO AMY LEE OF EVANESCENCE ABOUT INSPIRING THE WORLD’S WORST FANFICTION
The singer of My Immortal (the song) has now read My Immortal (the fanfic)
If you mention the name “My Immortal,” you may mean one of two things. The first is the 2003 hit song from rock band Evanescence. The second is a Harry Potter fanfic so transcendentally, mysteriously bad that it’s transfixed the internet for years.
The fanfic My Immortal is about a time-traveling mall-goth teenage vampire wizard (named “Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way”) who is obsessed with Evanescence and a variety of goth-inflected rock bands. She’s supposed to look like Amy Lee, Evanescence’s lead vocalist, pianist, and songwriter. And to this day, nobody is sure who wrote the story or whether they were serious.
Back in the real world, Lee and the rest of Evanescence have spent months under stay-at-home orders during the coronavirus pandemic. They’ve used that time to film two music videos in collaboration with director P.R. Brown, each shot by band members and their families. The latest is a surreal video for “The Game Is Over,” a song from their upcoming album The Bitter Truth. In Lee’s words, it’s shot as a “psychological thriller,” full of imagery based on a specific fear or inner demon from each member.
These videos — filmed in living rooms, cars, and other personal spaces — give fans a new kind of look into the band members’ lives. But I was curious about a different kind of fan relationship: did the creators of “My Immortal” know about My Immortal? I spoke to Lee, and the answer is yes; in fact, it’s part of a long-running family joke. She’d never actually read it, however, until last week.
You’ve made two videos under quarantine, and they’ve taken very different approaches. What was the process behind each of them?
We really had to just think kind of quickly. We were working on another video treatment that would have been full-production, this whole deal with a big crew and things we could no longer have because of the pandemic — including the fact that we couldn’t even physically get together because we live all over the world.
We recognized that “Wasted on You” had a bunch of lyrical content that felt like all of a sudden where we were. So we went for that. I really wanted it to be real on a level like people hadn’t seen us before: in our own homes, in our real lives, not dressed up, not in makeup, just the real, raw us.
For the second one, it’s like “Okay, how do we take what we’ve learned and amp it up even more to make it look like a real video more than just us being ourselves?” We have all been very serious about the lockdown, so we have been completely alone for the most part during this time — and that is cool in some ways as a creator. But you really have to live with yourself all the time.
A few of us have gone through some difficult things in the past few years. [Bassist Tim McCord] and I both experienced losses in our immediate family. There’s just been a lot of hard. So you know when you’re finally forced to stop being distracted by all the things that keep us happy, there’s silence — and that stuff comes out. So each of us had a private kind of gut-spilling confession with [P.R. Brown] about what we’re struggling with.
We were just sharing deeply in a way that we don’t normally go all the way with when it comes to at least our visuals. When I pour my lyrics into my music, it’s always really raw. But in this, it’s like, we’re not going to hold back on the video side and just make it beautiful — we’re going to go for it and let it be ugly and share the dark parts of ourselves.
I think of a lot of your music as being open and vulnerable, and you interact with fans online. What does filming a video at home like this communicate that your normal social media presence and music don’t?
I hope it just shows more and more of that willingness to be vulnerable because as hard as it is, it always leaves me feeling more satisfied than just putting on a pretty face.
Social media’s such a weird world for me. I love it — I’m grateful for the idea that we can have a direct relationship with our fans. But it’s kind of a double-edged sword. It’s such an open platform for everybody to criticize everything about you. And when you go there, you’re going to see that. I think that’s true for everybody. It doesn’t matter if you’re a celebrity or not. It’s just a place where people don’t have to show their face to say things, and there’s a lot of ugly out there.
What’s your relationship specifically with fanworks? Do people send you things that were inspired by you?
Oh my god, it’s so wonderful. We’ve got so much art. I’ve got this huge collection of stuff that I’ve been hanging on to just from the beginning. There are so many talented people out there that pour their efforts into making a piece of visual art that is either of something in the Evanescence world or just something else that came out of them while they were listening to our music.
Then there are other things that you have to keep because they’re so hilariously funny. People will make a crazy poem that makes totally no sense but I’m a character within it, which is awesome. It’s like, I know this person’s like 12 years old and totally sincere, but this is so funny. I have a little studio, and I dedicated a little bit of time during our unexpected free time to cover it wall-to-wall in the bathroom with all the fan stuff.
Which brings me to my next question: had you ever heard of My Immortal?
I think for quite a while I was just unaware of it. And then my cynical, Reddit-loving younger sister who’s also an English teacher, somewhere during the holiday every year when the family’s all together, it’ll come up for some reason. And she’s like, “Wait — you still haven’t read My Immortal?” And I’m like, “No, what do you mean?” She’s like, “You have to. Okay, hold on. Let me read you an excerpt.” And then she’ll pull up her phone and read some awesome paragraph from the craziest, funniest thing ever that makes no sense.
It’s one of her favorite things that she thinks is the most hilarious thing in the world, and I still just kept not reading it. It’s been kind of this ongoing joke with us. And then I got a call a few days ago that you wanted to talk about it, so I was like, “Oh, crap. I have to read a little bit of it.”
I read I think not quite half of it, but it did have me in tears. I was laughing really, really hard at one point, just because of the nonsense. And then I started asking myself, is this real? I can’t quite tell. I’m totally undecided. Is it sincere? I feel like it started maybe as sincere, but they got in on it and started playing it up for the haters. I can’t tell! What do you think?
It would have to be so elaborate, but there are a bunch of cases that really make it seem like this person knows much, much more than the character they’re putting on.
I noticed a misspelling that was like, instead of triumphantly, it was “triumelephantly.” And I was like, come on, you don’t think “elephant” is inside “triumphant.” There’s no way.
At one point, the main character’s name is spelled two different ways within three words of each other.
I totally saw that, too! I’m torn because I want it to be sincere, kind of... but I don’t know.
There are things about it that aren’t cool to talk about. Like it’s not funny to talk about slitting your wrists. So it takes me a second to get past that joke, which is so recurring.
Yeah, if you go back to old internet culture, a lot of it is really ugly. And it’s weird trying to separate that stuff out.
Is it better now?
I don’t know because now I’m too old to know what’s going on. But kids do seem nicer. They often seem nicer.
I would like to believe we’ve grown up a little bit as a society from that. Maybe everybody having a little bit more of a microphone has taught us some things that we need to be aware of that are outside of our perception and our personal experiences. There are other people that are seeing that in a different way. I think it would be cool if that’s true.
I was a teenager around when My Immortal came out, and it feels like it describes a very recognizable “goths versus preps” rivalry. Did you feel that?
I think this thing is poking fun at that world — I mean it would have to be, come on — and that part of it really resonates with me in a real way. But I didn’t consider myself goth! Part of what’s weird and funny is like okay, this is describing hating the preps, and you’re the cool one, you’re the underground, you understand real life and the gravity of death, and I get it. But if you’re so depressed and everything’s so hard and you’re so real and they’re so fake, why do you put so much effort into your look?
That was what always turned me off about the word “goth” when that started being assigned to me in our early days. If I was 15 years old and you’d asked me what I was, I’m grunge. I buy all my clothes at garage sales, I don’t do crap to my look, I get ready two seconds before school, and all the preps are the ones who put all their focus on their looks and what party they’re going to go to.
But yeah, that part was funny to me. That part existed.
I love the idea of you knowing about this thing for years without having read it.
I kind of want to thank you because I did get a really good laugh out of it last night. It’s not like, when I have free time, I’m motivated to go read some horribly bad thing. But it’s actually pretty interesting.
And you’ve gotta love all the characters breaking into song to sing My Chemical Romance songs. It’s pretty great.
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Chapter 2: The Moment
Table Of Contents
pairing: draco/fem-y/n
word count: 2.6k
warning(s): swearing
a/n: pls read the note at the end for imp. info
taglist: @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword @lilyreachelcassidy @socontagiousimagines @andreasworlsboring101 @morsmordre-crucio @1teen1dream @strwbrykiwi
Y/N went home that night knowing much too much more than she was comfortable with. She hadn’t stood in that office for much longer, instead soon being sent out to sort out her affairs. All she knew was something, something incredibly limited in supply and absolutely secret had been taken. A fucking time turner, of all things. She’d stared at Robards with shock as he’d even said that very word, wondering if this was some stupid joke. The last time she’d even heard of one of those was when she’d been forced to read The Great Tragedies of the Second Wizarding War for her Modern Wizarding Conflicts class at Auror Training. The entire stock of Time-Turners, which had been located in the Time Room in the Ministry of Magic, were rendered useless during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries in 1996. While they weren’t "destroyed" per se, due to the way one of them fell when their counter was knocked over, the entire stock was trapped in an endless loop of falling over, un-falling, and then re-falling, in an endless cycle for all eternity, and were thus unable to be used. So, how the actual fuck did someone manage to steal one of them? And why would they think Draco Malfoy was capable of doing so?
She was barely out of his office, staring at the paper in her hands while those very thoughts swirled around her head when the very person she was just not looking forward to meeting at any point in the near future. Draco Malfoy.
She saw him in the distance, clutching and staring down at his own sheet of paper in frustration. She gulped and acted instinctively, stretching the paper as wide as she could over the front of her face and briskly walking as fas0t as she could without attracting his attention. She stiffened up considerably and leaned forward, trying to make herself look smaller than she actually was. She stared down at the floor, watching Draco’s expensively shoed feet clicking down the floor. Black leather dress shoes with the laces done up nice and tight. Fancy.
But then his footsteps slowed and he came to a stop a couple dozen steps in front of her, him tilting on his feet for a second as the bottom of the left leg of his trousers rolled up the slightest bit. God, he had some skinny ankles.
“Y/N?”
Oh, fuck.
She froze for a second, holding it up the paper before slowly bringing it down and folding it again. She brought her gaze up and met his own, piercing and pale. She realised how very suspicious she must have been looking and she gulped. And then, she realised how very extremely awkward this situation was. Wake up with no memory of what happened the night before in someone’s bed, then be rude to them, then get partnered with them in some top secret mission, and lastly, blatantly avoid them. Her cheeks felt hot.
“Yes?” Her voice was shakier than she’d hoped it would be.
“... What’s this about?”
“I-I… it’s for another mission.”
“Yeah, it says that on the note. But… what mission, exactly?”
“... It’s a secret.”
“Not for us… come on. I know you must have just been to Robard’s. What did he tell you?”
“He told me that- there’s um… been a robbery.”
“So we’ve been pulled together to investigate some petty theft?”
“No… it’s more like, official.”
“What?”
“Something’s been stolen from the Ministry.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I… we aren’t supposed to know yet. He didn’t tell me what it was.”
She pressed her lips together tightly and shrugged. He stared down at her, clearly not convinced. He tilted his narrow face to the side and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, really?”
“Y-yes.”
He squinted over at her suspiciously, then sighed. He brought his hands into his pockets and shook his head before just pausing.
“You can tell me, you know. We’re supposed to start working together as is, I really don’t see why you can’t tell me what he told you.”
“It’s… he told me to keep it a secret for now.”
“But I’m your partner. We’re supposed to-”
“I think you should go ask Robards yourself, okay? I don’t know if he wants me to tell you.”
“Y/N.” His nostrils flared the slightest bit. “Did you request this?”
“What?”
“Did you ask for us to be set up together? Is that wh-”
“No! Of course not.”
Fuck, she didn’t want to sound as rude as she did right then.
“I-I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to be assigned with you! Yeah.” She smiled but her lips soon turned down at seeing Draco’s own expression. He was just staring down at her, features still up in a slight sneer.
“Okay…? Are you alright?”
“Uh- yeah, of course. I’m just fine.”
“Are you sure the… um… that you’re… all clear now?”
“I’m pretty sure, yes.”
Oh dear god, why did he have to bring that up? She was trying very, very hard to forget about it, now that she was going to have to work with him. She’d slept in his own bed (and there was the slightest possibility they’d slept together too), been rude to him and now they were going to have to work together all day everyday for a while! That too on a mission as high-demand as this one. (WHY COULDN’T THEY ASSIGN AN ACTUAL TASK FORCE TO THIS CASE AGAIN? Oh, right, because of the Goblin Colony attacks in Scotland. AH. How tragic. Fuck.)
“Well. Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, um, be seeing you, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” He waved politely, quickly skirting off towards Robard’s office.
Y/N quickly regained her senses and began to walk again, but not back to her cubicle for there was no way she could speak to Ron without imploding in on herself, but to the nearest washroom. She got in in a rush and locked the door behind herself. She looked at herself in the mirror, cheeks much redder than they were the last time she’d seen her reflection.
How was one supposed to deal with this? How were you supposed to work with the prime suspect to solve the case? What the actual fuck? Why did they pick her to do this again? Why didn’t they fucking pick Dawlish? Why was it her? HELLO?
Surely, if it really was Draco who’d stolen said artifact, he would get to hiding it, wouldn’t he? He might even run away from the country. Or better yet, with the nature of the product, he could just go back in time and make it so that no one ever caught wind of his doings and he could just continue as is. Maybe that’d be a good course of action. She could stick with Dawlish and everything could just continue. WHY DID CRIMES IN THE TIME REALM HAVE TO BE SO GRAVE AND POSSIBLY LIFE DESTROYING? Merlin, Y/N wanted to scream. For many hours.
But then again. This was… work. She wasn’t supposed to moan and complain. She was supposed to take the blows as they came. One by one. Sigh.
She stepped out of the bathroom, breathing slowly. Doing every little thing her Healer had told her about preventing anxiety attacks. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.. Wait. It was Draco again and he’d already spotted her. He was clearly narrowing his sights and getting ready to pounce on her. Fuck. Fuck. It was him who’d done everything, wasn’t it? And now he was going to obliviate her! Oh my god! She reached into her pocket and drew out her wand, pointing it at him. Draco paused, eyebrows furrowing.
“What are you… doing?”
“Oh- um- nothing! Nothing at all. Aha. Just um… practicing stances, you know.” She put it back into her pocket and gulped, gritting her teeth in frustration. Today seriously was going from bad to worse.
“Alright. Um. Why didn’t you tell me before? It really wasn’t such a big deal. Nothing was stolen, I think you misunderstood.”
“I just- Um. He told me not to-”
“We’re supposed to track down a centaur. The old Divination professor.”
“Oh. Yeah, right. Right.”
“Yeah. So. Yeah.”
“I… we should probably research a bit about him.”
“Well, um, definitely. I was thinking I’d look into specifics and that maybe you could try and look for more about centaur habi- I mean, colonies in Europe.”
“Yeah-yeah, sure. I could do that.”
“Okay then. Be seeing you.” And he was off again.
Good. So she was all alone with that information. It was just her who knew about it. Well, and Robard. What the fuck? Why would they expect her to know how to do all this by herself? She put her hands on her face, muffling a very soft scream into them.
***
Y/N was sat in Hermione’s living room, taking slow sips from her cup of peppermint tea as she stared out the window. She’d rushed there straight after work, Ron in tow. She’d told him she wanted to tell the both of them together. And she had. And they were staring at her in absolute surprise.
“So. He thinks you’re supposed to-”
“Yes.”
“You’re meant to be investigating him while you work with him?”
“I- yes, I suppose I am.”
“Well, you can’t let him know, can you?”
“Of course not!”
“Right. So,..”
Hermione looked at Ron, face still slightly green after her bout of sickness. She was sitting on the sofa opposite Y/N’s, bundled up in a few blankets while Ron curled an arm around her and she leaned into him. She looked very much like a baby. A bushy haired, paler than usual baby. There were a few books on the table beside hers, indicating how badly Hermione was trying to catch up with her reading, even while sick. Gosh.
“Well. You have to be casual.”
“Yeah, Ron. The thing is, that’s not very easy.”
“Oh, right. Right.”
He looked over at Hermione and made a face, a suggestive sort of expression. And she tilted her head before soon realising…
“Oh, you slept with him?”
“No! I- well, yes. But not. Not like, sex. I just-”
“Oh my god, Y/N, how could you! With Draco Malfoy. Who even kn-”
“‘Mione… “ Ron pouted over at her, shaking his head.
“Okay, okay, sorry. Whatever. Lapse of judgement, I suppose.”
“Majorly. And I didn’t have sex with him!”
“Well. Regardless. You can’t be super uptight around him, or he’ll figure it out.”
“Actually. You know, that might be a good front for you to act a bit more awkward in front of him.”
“You’re right.”
“But… don’t you think you should clear up what happened?”
“I should. I think.”
“You should just talk it through with him!”
“Hermione. It is not that easy.”
“But why isn’t it? It’s not like you like him that way, do you? I thought you disliked him.”
“Yeah, I- I don’t like him. Definitely not in that way.”
“Then why don’t you just ask him: what happened? Can we stop this?”
“I… I mean, I could try. I need to make peace with this… entire thing somehow.”
“Well, go for it!”
Y/N shrugged again, leaning back into her seat. She finished up with the last of her tea and set it away, staring at the couple for a few seconds before trying to change her expression to something a bit more satisfied and a lot less confused.
***
Somehow, that night, Y/N managed to gather her senses (and an appropriate amount of the Draught of Peace) for long enough to compile some notes about centaur habitats. The Forbidden Forest in Scotland, the Wychwood Forest in England and the Hoia-Baciu Forest in Romania. There. Oh, and the Black Forest in Germany. Huh. All varying amounts of spooky.
She’d put them together in a file and was standing by Draco’s own cubicle (which was stupidly elegant, by the way. And I mean, of course it was.), shifting her weight and balancing herself on the balls of her feet, awaiting his arrival. She stared down at her folder again, sighing as she awaited his arrival. Very hopefully, he wouldn’t shock her as he always seemed to do. Besides, she was a lot more confident this time. Thankfully, she noticed him stepping out of the elevator and waved over at him, lifting her folder. She was for some reason glad to see that he was only carrying along a slim briefcase.
He smiled at her, albeit reluctantly, and soon arrived. “Good morning.” He set his briefcase on his desk and then looked at her folder. “Oh… so, that’s all you did?” Wow, what an unnecessary comment. She handed over her folder to him and he set it beside his case, now beginning to open it up. And he undid the clasp, and… voila! A thick, thick binder full of as many sheets of paper as she could even count at once appeared. Goddamn illegal Extension Charms.
“Wow! How long did you spend on that?”
“Eh… all of last night. I tried to put together every record where Firenze’s name was mentioned.”
“There are that many?”
“You’d really be surprised. And I mean, it’s been a very long while since he was last seen by his colony. Almost an entire year. And the circumstances of his disappearance have been so mysterious, they actually ‘deigned’ to contact us. That’s quite literally what someone from his colony, um, Bane? He wrote this in his official complaint. The Centaurs generally sort matters like this out themselves.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Y/N nodded slowly, forcing on a smile as the silence between them began to grow awkward. Could he really have stolen from the Ministry? Right now, he just seemed like a right nerd. Not a sinister mastermind. But then again, taking an object out of an eternal loop of falling was no simple-minded task. She sighed and put her hands in her pockets, thinking about how best to bring the situation back down to normal.
“Y-you know… I-I can’t help but notice things have been a little awkward between us since the whole…?”
“Hmm. Yes.”
“ I… I kind of wanted to… you know. Clear things up a bit. Figure out what happened.”
“Well, nothing really happened, as far as I can remember. I was also a bit…” He made a cuckoo sign with his finger.
“Oh. Okay. We were both quite drunk then?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“But we didn’t like… together?”
“Definitely not.”
“... I hate to be suspicious and whatnot but, how are you so sure?”
“I… I just know, alright? There’s just a way I do.”
“I’m- Okay, I suppose I won’t insist on that point. But… I just wanted to kind of clear the air a bit, you know?”
“I do. And… I suppose I understand that.”
“I’m sorry I was so weird that day.”
“‘S Alright. Um-”
“Do you want to explain Firenze to me then? My research is kind of… cut and dry. Not hard to figure out. But yours seems very complex.”
“Oh, sure. I-I just need to clear out this one little detail I’ve found with you first.”
“No problem. Go ahead, I suppose.”
“You had him for Divination, if I’m not wrong?”
“ Yes.”
“Well, the thing is… one of your classmates. Lovegood. She’s been linked to him several times over the past few years. She’s the only human the centaurs named, had been familiar with.”
“Oh my.”
“Yes. Something about… stargazing patterns or summat’”
“Sounds like it makes sense…? Luna loved doing that, if I’m remembering right.”
“You see, it’s been months since she’s contacted the Ministry as well, though no one’s contacted her as yet. She’s supposedly gone on a Magizoology assignment, tracking down gnomes. I have a theory… their disappearances aren’t just coincidences.”
Wait a second. Disappearances. Time turners caused people to disappear from their current timelines, didn’t they? And Luna was a Ravenclaw, after all…
a/n: yes, this story was very slightly inspired by cursed child. but no, there is no separate plotline involving voldemort and bellatrix’s love child trying to bring her father back. (YUCK!) also i am v sorry to disappoint but i am going to postpone this story up till april/may. my last posts for this fic haven’t been receiving much attention and it’s my final semester of school so the workload/studying is just getting a bit too much to juggle writing and planning alongside if i’m getting little attention for it.
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco#hp au#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagine#hp imagine#angst#currents
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Hi it's me I'm new but can you do one we're asta joins the Dark triad and how whould they treat him I know it's stupid but I couldn't think of any thing else
Hey there love. Thank you for all your kind messages, they really made me happym so I wanted to return your kindness by getting my butt out of this slump!! And sorry for the wait, I was on an excavation, but now I have Internet again and I had a long time to think about this.
So, this could be a relly great Idea for a kickass AU work. Like, what if Asta met the dark triad early on in the story, lets say even before the magic knights entrance exam. Canonically he met Fanzel around that time, too, so we’re even going to place this happening before all that.
It starts with the big What If the Spade people had their Informationnetwork better under control and had way better spies than they appear to have right now (cause yall, how coukd they have missed Asta. He was in the Newspaper for gods sake. How bad a spy do you have to be to miss that? And for a warmongering nation, they really are way too uninformed about strenghts and their enemies. Little pet peeve of mine.)
BUT! Now, they hear of this kid who got a great and strong grimoire in a place where that doesnt happen. First they hear all about Yuno and are like, yeah, okay, new blimp on the radar, we gotta calculate this new potentially powerful enemy in, and then they get the news of Asta and how he came to have a weird and shady 5 leaf clover grimoire. And now at least Dantes interest is piqued.
So, they decide to check it out, cause who might that be? Which Demon has found a new host? And how did it happen without them hearing about a big catastrophic event in Clover, which is usually Zagreds, the word demons, preferred method of getting what he wants,
Things are so interesting that the Zogratis siblings go on a road trip together, to find out more and maybe cause some menace on the way, in case they get bored. Its gonna be prime family bonding time!
They meet Asta under the skull, where he always trains, and they see him basically just lugging this big sword around but...not using either magic or the devils power. Something is weird here. Vanica also comments that the kid is kinda hunky with some nice features, but kinda veery very tiny, and she loses a bit of interest already. Zenon appreciates a dude who knows his workout, but the no magic factor makes him think of Asta as kinda weak, way too weak to be a Devil host, and he tells Dante that it might be a fluke, that their information was wrong, and that they should just go and find the responsible spy and torture him, for having them come out all this way just to see a kid play at being a knight and yell a lot.
Dante still has an uneasy feeling, that it might be a little more than just that, but he also has to agree that Asta has not shown any sign of devil powers, so he cant even ask lucifero which Demon slipped past their Network and got stranded in Clover, and this part of clover of all places too. Really, no self respecting lord of hell would do this to themselves, not even Zagred who maybe got a little desperate over the millenia.
Just as they are about to turn and leave, a voice comes up to them, asking them what they are doing. and yes, it comes up to them, cause they are in their usual and very very stealthy and absolutely not suspicious manner flying half a kilometre over the ground, maybe a little to the left, so they are guarded by the shades of the columns, and bickering with each other about first going to torture the spies, or getting something to eat before that. Just ye normal roadtrip talks.
Anyways, Asta heard them or sensed them (my boys instincts are crazy, like damn), and his gut feeling tells him something is off wht the weirdly fancy dressed floating strangers with seemingly cold eyes and spade-symbols and regalia all on them. He might not be the smartest noodle in the pot, but even he knows when he sees people in a place they dont belong.
Yeah, so, from here on out things can go a great many ways, Zenon would probably suggest they get rid of him and also that would make at least for a little amusement for now. Vanica would probably agree, cause at least they would be doing ANYTHing but staying there and doing nothing but watch a little boy. Or they could get some snacks, shes kinda hungry, for the 300th time today.
Dante tho, he still wants his questions answered. So why not ask? He floats down towards Asta, and is all like, Hello there young man, that is a fine sword youre having there, pray tell where did you get that?
And Asta is like, wow, someone likes my sword? And this little angel boy just happily wants to help people, especially those 3 nobles who seem like they got hella damn lost (and not like they are a nightmare for many captains and Julius, I mean, can you imagine all the work thats gonna have to happen, when they find out that the dark triad can just enter Clover all willy nilly?? Oh, Marx is gonna haunt them with papers for months! And Augustus voice is gonna shriek through all the castle in that unbeliievable high octave about how useless they all are, and yeah, things just aint gonna be great, but Asta doesnt know, this blessed summer child is not the brightest light at times)
Cause sister lily and father Orsi raised him right he shows Dante all about his sword and his grimoire, and Dante sees it and probably goes like !!!. And then he knows that Asta really is a demons host, but he doesnt seem to have realized it himself. How strange. He tries to ask Asta a few questions, but the kiddo just really doesnt know a thing and after a while of talking around the topic, he tries the more direct route
“Say Boy, have you ever heard a Voice inside your head? Telling you things about your magic and what to do?”
“Yeah, Yuno says thats called thinking and that people should do that more often.”
“...right. But was there one besides the regular Voice you hear when you think?”
“No? Was there supposed to be one before I got the grimoire?”
“...Nevermind”
Asta also couldnt remember ever seeing a weird figure, well not specifically because “not before you guys showed up. I think the weirdest figure is probably Yuno, way too damn handsome that jerk!”
Or sensing another Magic mingle with his, “What do you mean this isnt my magic?”
Finally, Dante asks Asta if he ever heard about the Devil, and “Yeah of course, I was raised in a church, and Sister Lily tells us all the best good night stories! Im gonna mary one day and then we tell each other all those every night!!” And then Asta got stuck thinking about his sister Lily,and Dante had to realize that its no use.
He could now either kidnap Asta and train him under the dark triad, or he could leave him be and keep his tabs on the strange kid with big dreams. Yeah, well, kidnapping Asta is, if the conversation with him was any clue, not gonna be an easy and quiet thing, and its gonna be a political mess, a headache to boot too. Also Zenon and Vanica are probably going to try kill Asta if he gets too much for them anyways, so i would be useless. He sighed, and shook his head, and shot Asta a fake smile
“Thank you for answering all my questions, boy, have a nice training session for whatever it is youre trying o achieve here.”
“Oh, Im training to become a Magic knight in a few months!”
“Ah”
“Im gonna become the Wizard king! (✧ ∇ ✧)”
“...Well, good luck with that, Im going home now”
“Thank you, also your friends left like 20 minutes ago”
Cue unhappy Dante. But at least they learned something...I think? And they went and cleaned up that Information pipe line real quick and then got something to eat.
Yeah so, I tried. Im still not back to peak form, but this was fun! Poor Dante was probably hella frustrated afterwards, but Asta really jsut doesnt know xD and later on, Asta is constantly wih people who are pretty sure to recognize the Spade royalty. I mean, they dont make it particulary hard. And Asta has his goal set, and he takes the most direct route to get there.
im pretty sure, as things are now, Zenon and Vanica are going to be way more interested too, but I really need to know a lot more about Vanica.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and thank you again for sending me those words of encouragement! Have a lovely day!!
#caw caw#man its been ages#im sorry folks for disappearing of the grid#and ya know what#thanks to corona#i dont have uni#so maybe if anyone wants some easy headcannons hit me up#im kinda feeling this again :)#black clover#The dark triad#Asta#Dante Zogratis#Zenon Zogratis#Vanica Zogratis#beware: no plot just weird musings and ramblings
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the witcher: the end’s beginning
Whenever I hear the netflix noise, I automatically start singing Look Away. Doesn’t matter that I haven’t actually rewatched ASOUE that many times.
i very much appreciate how they make this first monster fight look difficult (it gives such scale to how dangerous these monsters are when you compare it to Geralt fighting Renfri’s posse later). And Geralt’s not at all human eyes. The spidering poison is super unnerving and feral looking. Great introduction to the character. (per my understanding of the video game, he absolutely ate that deer raw, when he tells Renfri he’s full later, he is FULL OF RAW MEAT.)
so that paper 100% says kikimora on it. important a scene or two later.
some of the costuming decisions aren’t 100% but I am a big fan of the set design. especially all of the candles.
i want to squish renfri’s cute little face! (her costuming is also on point, i really love the specific red color of her shirt. Although on further examination, the fit is actually a little strange? Or the pleating doesn’t read right on screen all the time.)
“more and more i find monsters wherever i go.” yup... early introduction of *theme*
“I killed a rat this morning with my breakfast fork.” Got to love Marilka!
“You don’t scary me”/“That’s too bad.”
(Geralt will be a good adopted father to Ciri, he’s good with violent, headstrong teenage girls.)
Marilka lied there, the flier was absolutely for a kikimora. She is very deliberately intercepting him to take Geralt to Stregobor. And Geralt is just like, fuck fine? You do sort of get the impression that people refusing to pay him as contracted is something he deals with ALL THE TIME!
“I think that makes you a hero.” (aww, Marilka!)
Marilka and Geralt are so cute together (I think he likes people who will talk at him)
Geralt’s little smile when she says “girls can’t be witchers that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard”
Gratuitous nudity? Nah, we’re establishing something about Stregabor with this. Also, it’s just sort of there... in the background, like we should barely pay any attention to it. (So, per the timeline, Stregobor has already tried to prevent Yennefer from going to the court she wants for no apparent reason. Stregobor is a bastard.)
“I seem to remember that Witcher’s don’t feel anything”
Aw, Ciri dressed as a boy handing out with some rascals. She’s wearing normal pants here...
”Gross”, yes Ciri your horny grandparents are gross.
“Wizards are all the same. You talk nonsense while making wize and meaningful faces. Speak plainly.” Geralt is so done with everything. That’s how we meet him. I question the received fan wisdom that Geralt doesn’t talk very much. He’s just surrounded by people who talk A LOT.
How full of shit is Stregobor? It’s very difficult to tell. Does he actually believe his bullshit? What evidence did he actually have of these internal mutations? How did they die so he could autopsy them? Difficult to say. Also, there is something super weird about how Stregabor talks to Geralt, the way he’s moving and the tone of voice he’s using--like he’s trying to get in his head. Is it strictly psychological or is he attempting to do what he accuses Renfri of and manipulate him with magic? Make him kill Renfri?
“Pretty ballads hide bastard truths.” (Rewatching, this makes me think of episode 4, they’ve met Jaskier. I wonder if Jaskier wrote anything about Calanthe — there are so many references throughout the series of the power of song to change perception of the past, which changes the present.)
I can’t unsee how the bodice of Crir’s dress doesn’t lay quite right and the fabric is weirdly modern looking. (Her face when she is doing the kicky part of the dance--she’s so right, what the hell even is that.)
GERALT’S FINDING SHIT TO MAKE A POTION!
“Queen Calanthe of Cintra, she just won her first battle” — if you are paying attention, the timeline stuff is actually pretty clear, the clues are all there. I was explaining to a friend that i have trouble watching things that are of midrange complexity; i can follow this and i can follow a sitcom, but I often have trouble following things inbetween.
“Because then I am what they say I am” — Geralt is morally incapable of rehabilitating his own reputation, he’s too concerned he might deserve it
renfri says “no more princess” and then Geralt calls her a princess. He is SO DELIBERATE with words.
The violence in this battle is something. The visuals are weird; it’s not torture porn, it’s frantic and horrifying. There is this unbelievable level of squelching and bits flying around, but very little blood. And I don’t think i’ve seen a battle sequence that is washed out in that precise way--the overcast sky reflects the sun everywhere until you can hardly see. That’s got to be a horrible circumstance to fight under.
I hope we see Ciri comfortable enough to be this impetuous again.
Does Mousesack know Stregobor? Why does he choose to tell Ciri a story where a wizard systematically kills young girls? There’s no real moral relevance or connection to what they are talking about, unless it is the cruel callousness of fate.
Calanthe is so devastated when Eist dies :(
Ciri looks so scared and like the world is ending, talented actress, she’s wonderful!
Geralt’s giant monologue talking to his horse. Yeah, perceived fan wisdom isn’t quite right. He talks. He’s pretty verbal and good with words. He’s just so very careful around people and cultivating this very specific image.
“She took one look at me, screamed, vomited and then passed out. Yeah I thought the world needed me too.” I bet he is still thinking about Marilka calling him a hero.
Back in Cintra... the color has shifted so drastically from the glaring white to the orange burning.
Geralt is THERE, right NOW. escaping from the prison cell Calanthe put him in. DESTINY! But why?!?
The way Mousesack looks at Ciri when she does the magic yelling thing for the first time. He does not look surprised.
“Find Geralt of Rivia, he is your destiny.” I should have counted how many times the word Destiny is said. I’m sure it’s off the wall.
Note to self: Mousesack and Calanthe know that Nilfgard is here for Ciri. They say so. Were they too in denial about it to take appropriate action? Cause strategically, if they knew that, nothing they do makes any sense. And they could not have gotten new information since Calanthe went off to battle.
Cintra doesn’t have a court mage, and hasn’t for ages. Pretty sure Mousesack is a druid, but is it hard to convince Calanthe to let him stay? (should get back to this train of thought in episode 4)
This bit with the soldiers handing out the poison drives home how scary Nilfgard is so much more effectively than seeing them graphically torture people. (Not that what we see of the slaughtering people isn’t graphic enough.)
Calanthe just tipping out the window gets me every time. The soundtracking is great, the way is gets quiet and picks back up again.
Geralt is so fucking close to Ciri in this moment, but not close enough!
What is Renfi’s intent in sleeping with Geralt? Is it just because she wants to or does she have some ulterior motive? Does she think it will sway him? They both look at eachother so softly though. The way it is done in this weird prophesizing flashback is so strange.
“You have to choose the lesser evil.”
Geralt goes from resigned fuck to snarling so so fast when it becomes obvious that Renfri’s posse is not going to back down.
“They created me just as they created you, we’re not so different.” — what does she mean by that? Does she mean it philosophically that they have both been badly mistreated by society, or is she implying that her mutations are deliberate. And she was created, like a Witcher. Not a coincidence of being born during an eclipse. If that was the case, Stregobor would know, possibly even have been the one to do it, that creepy fucking bastard. I don’t have easily searchable transcripts handy, but I *think* Geralt mentions something in another episode about how he’s found mutations to be deliberate. Going to keep an eye out for that. I’m proposing that Stregobor was out to create an army of female witchers and it went... badly and he killed them all off. Maybe he was even doing it to replace Tissaia and Aretusa. This could be a *thing*.
I am 90% sure Geralt just grabbed the blade of the sword. Yup, he’s definitely holding the sword in his off hand by the blade when he kills Renfri. The fuck Geralt? Does that not hurt your hand?
Renfri’s giant eyes when she’s dying. God.
So Ciri legit causes a giant crevice to form in the earth. WHAT IS SHE CAPABLE OF?!?
The way Stregobor looks at Renfri’s corpse. So upsetting. He doesn’t look at her like a person. Stregobor is definitely using the idea of Renfri’s mutation manipulating people to turn the crowd against Geralt; make him seem more untrustworthy and shut down any attempt for him to defend himself. Protecting Renfri’s corpse from horrible wizard dude is 100% in character for him.
Shit. Geralt’s resigned but completely devastated face when Marilka tells him to leave and not come back. And she is so soft and quiet about it too, that must make it so much worse. And Marilka looks like she’s about to cry too--she’s lost something: her innocence, her chance to escape, both. What does she really, deep down, think of Geralt here? Will she lie awake at night wondering if she should have said something else? I wonder what becomes of her. What does she think about Stregobor after this? Her face though, she has to know something is wrong here. Does she leave Blaviken? Does she hear tales of Geralt the White Wolf as an adult? What does she think of them?
Close up shot of the pin he took from Renfri.
And then the clear visual cue that Ciri is the girl in the woods. If you just roll with it and assume things will get explained a little better later, this really isn’t confusing. You just need to let go a little.
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The Hunchback of Notre Dame owo
@wouldhope// Disney Headcanon Meme
The Hunchback of Notre Dame - What is your muse’s religious beliefs? Have they ever experienced oppression at the hands of religion?
//Ok well FIRST of all
youtube
//And also this is;;; probably gonna be long;;; made twice as long because i’m gonna do one for standard!tutu (the one where she’s basically swan jesus) and one for verses/aus where she’s… at least a LITTLE bit more normal (see: her dad’s not a LITERAL DEITY)
I’m actually gonna start off with the latter here bc i think the former is probably gonna be longer anyway SO
(continues under cut)
In verses/aus where Tutu’s father isn’t a literal, actual spirit/deity/entity/god/what-have-ye (BNHA/affiliated spinoffs; duckverse/anthro/etc.; wizarding world; etc.):
She is… SOMEWHAT religious; definitely not overly so (see: not an asshole about it) but believes in angels/miracles/god/heaven and-or the afterlife. Definitely christianity-adjacent but not any particular type of christianity; possibly believes in hell/purgatory/some sort of punishment system after death but doesn’t really like to think about it, and her qualifications for GETTING there are stuff like, say, ‘committing many horrible murders’ or ‘being an unapologetic bigot’ as opposed to ‘not believing in jesus’ or ‘enjoying having sex’ or whatever.
She doesn’t really even, say, go to church regularly (she’s heckin BUSY come on), but does enjoy being IN church, especially alone; it’s like a bit of a meditation for her/helps her clear her head and feel closer to god/spirituality/the universe/heaven/her mom.
She also prays pretty much every day- specifically once in the morning and at night- but also prays informally whenever she feels the need, and probably wouldn’t own much religious iconography besides maybe a few cross necklaces– you know, small, tasteful, very expensive; delicate, real silver or gold, maybe a single pearl right in the middle of the cross but that’s about it.
Whereas on the OTHER hand
//HOO BOY//
In main verse and associated, she’s… um.
Ok, so the Swan King may not technically be an actual GOD per se, but, well… He’s close. And people DO worship him. Not as many as there used to be, but they’re still there, and generally speaking basically everybody in the kingdom and round abouts that area observe it (swanianism or something idk) at least casually, by at least saying ‘swansdown’ and ‘swanfeathers’ and ‘by the swan’ instead of, for example, ‘oh my god’.
There’s, like, one official church, with stained glass and pews and everything, where all the high-class weddings and funerals and etc. get held there, but there aren’t really any ‘priests’ and they don’t really hold services.
There are lots and lots of old swan statues all over the area from centuries back, and while some of them got moved onto the tops of buildings/in fountains/ended up centers of various village squares, a lot of them had sort of… had temples built around them over the years- it just sorta happened- and that’s mainly where the average people observe their worship.
Also, the Schwanensee royal family featured pretty largely in the theology, being sort of… the same thing as saints in Catholicism; whenever anybody was born/died on the sacred island a messenger dove got sent over to the mainland and there was an announcement made about it to the village. The sacred island/lake wasn’t really thought of as a real place- it was more like if you could see heaven a little bit from a high window, or if you climbed a really tall tree.
So when the island was basically burned to the ground and almost all the royal family was killed, it was… um…..
Kind of a big fuckin’ deal.
When Tutu was rescued from the ruins, and everybody saw her, and everybody knew who she was, it was an even bigger deal. Everybody, in unison, basically decided that this tiny, traumatized, soot-covered, gray-feathered 6-year-old was the chosen one who was going to save them from everything from minor disagreements to, y’know, being ripped apart alive/having your heart and emotions pulled out and eaten by flocks of devil birds.
People even started… worshipping her.
After the initial adjustment period, she actually handled it pretty well; at least externally. Of course, anyone who knows anything about actually being royalty knows that the whole trick is to be royal on the outside and a cobbled-together mess sustained by stress like that physics thing where you hold up a legless table by strings and the buckets of water on it, but as she got older she actually managed to get more of a handle on it.
All in all, she’s…
I mean, she’s more or less got it. Apart from sudden attacks of crippling, soul-crushing anxiety. But she really, really, really wishes that people would stop, or at least give the whole actually worshipping her a rest a little. Generally speaking, everybody in the kingdom (or at least in the castle village) does genuinely like her, but sometimes she gets people who want to, like, kneel at her, or try to touch her dress/feathers as she walks past, and when she tries to talk to them they start flinching away and holding up their little carved swan amulet necklaces like they think it’ll protect them and she’s just like dad dammit i am trying to be friendly do i have to say ‘be not afraid’ or something every time i go up to introduce myself to someone???
But yeah, generally speaking it’s not really a problem from the swan-leaning side. Where it starts going wrong is the raven-leaning side.
The swan-leaning people are all in all, y’know, normal fucking people, and their religion-worship-belief-etc. only ever gets to obnoxious-christianity levels.
But the raven-leaning people can generally be qualified altogether as a crazy ransacking-and-pillaging murder cult.
And they actually have backup from real, actual infernal blood magic demon stuff, a seemingly infinite supply of flocks of murderbirds and various and sundry quirky miniboss squad-types, whereas the normal people really only have Tutu and, allegedly, the faerie folk (those affiliated with the Lilac Fairy/Queen, at least) but they haven’t been seen in generations so it’s really anyone’s guess on that.
They do a lot of, you know, general murder and mayhem- or at least they did, but the last really big thing they managed to pull off was the massacre on the sacred island, and technically speaking they actually failed to complete their objective because Queen Leda put Tutu to sleep with some ~magic~ and hid her in the hollow base of a swan statue in the middle of a rose thicket, which, by some sort of ‘coincidence’, didn’t seem to catch fire very much, and they were all too drunk on moonshine and bloodlust, and generally crazy and stupid, to actually look further for any survivors when everything was on fire and there were crows everywhere and they just sort of decided ‘yeah that’s it let’s go home’ and fucked off.
At the current time, most of them aren’t actually too much of a threat because most of them are the stupid crazy ~3edgy5me~ idiot types– y’know, the kind who’d, say, march around waving factory-produced tiki torches at night and demand a police escort if they’re gonna be shouting in the general vicinity of a pride event because they’re ‘fearful of their safety :’(’
so, like, nowadays they’re really only like Team Rocket-level nuisances on a day-to-day basis because the kingdom had learned from their history and swore in a lot more ‘guards’ and ‘knights’- enough to mostly keep the peace in pretty much every town unless things get really, really bad.
Uuuunfortunately, it’s not just idiots who want to wear black cloaks with pointy hoods to look like beaks and wave big curved swords around– i mean, it’s MOSTLY that, but also a lot of very smart, very greedy, bored, evil, and/or scheming people end up gravitating towards anything that’ll give them a lot of dumb people who they can tell what to do.
So occasionally- very occasionally- they actually do something that’s… actually impactful, and everybody who gets out of it in one piece talks about how fucked up that was and ‘curse those raven bastards’ and etc. etc., but the crowmen (as they’re informally known) are also surprisingly good at apparently vanishing without a trace so it’s hard to catch them or do anything really constructive about the problem as a whole.
Weeellllll, okay, ADMITTEDLY a few various gangs of them HAVE managed, by coincidence or the type of brief narrative luck that dumb people like that seem to have sometimes, to briefly kidnap Tutu, but she either gets rescued very quickly OR escapes by herself while they’re arguing with each other about HOW to kill her, WHETHER to kill her, and what the prospects of killing her now or maybe ransoming her and then killing her LATER would be, or they all sort of trip over their own and each other’s feet, cloaks, and swords and blunder their way into harmlessness in one way or another.
TL;DR Tutu sort of... IS a part of her religion like how Jesus is a part of Christianity/associates and all things considered she’s handling it pretty well. Her entire family was murdered by basically a crazy satanic cult who still run around causing problems, but not as much as they used to, so.... Does that count as religious oppression???
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Lachesis/Maria C-S Support
Written by eullig
C SUPPORT
Maria: Lady Lachesis! Lady Lachesis!!
Lachesis: Maria? Why are you in such a hurry? Do be careful not to trip, dear.
Maria: It’s fine! I’m wearing my exercise gear!
Lachesis: Your… white dress?
Maria: It’s comfortable! Minerva tells me time and time again that I should wear something more practical in battle, but mother always said I looked pretty in white dresses. They’re like a lucky charm!
Lachesis: Well, that’s really sweet, Maria. You certainly bring a lot of cheer to our army. Everyone feels better when they spot your shiny garments in the distance.
Maria: *giggle* See? They make everyone else luckier too!
Lachesis: Indeed. Nevertheless, did you require anything specific from me? You looked eager to know of my whereabouts.
Maria: That’s right, I almost forgot! Lady Lachesis, I want you to teach me.
Lachesis: I see. What kind of lessons do you require? Maybe you wish to learn how to brew the most exquisite of teas? I’m also quite knowledgeable in the art of flower arrangement. Perhaps some elegance classes…?
Maria: No, no! None of that nonsense! Lady Lachesis, you’re always carrying that sword around even though you mostly perform healing duty when we get deployed in battle, right?
Lachesis: Yes. Being able to defend myself if the enemy forces overwhelm the vanguard of our forces is of utmost importance if I wish to remain alive.
Maria: Well, I want you to teach me self defense with a blade! I want to help everyone even more, so I have to get much stronger!
Lachesis: Oh… Uh…
Maria: Is there a problem? Do you not have the time, Lady Lachesis?
Lachesis: No, Maria, that is not it. I don’t have much of a schedule since I was summoned here. However… Why not ask your siblings for help? Or any of our myrmidons? Surely they would provide a better swordplay regime than I could ever concoct.
Maria: I want to surprise Michalis and Minerva, so no telling! They haven’t touched a sword in ages anyway, ever since father decided that someday one of them should inherit the royal Hauteclare. Axes are far too heavy for me, and I’m too short to use a lance. I can never keep my balance!
Lachesis: How about bows? Little sweet Sakura could train alongside you, and they would allow you to help from afar rather than forcing you to get close to the enemy.
Maria: I could never! Arrows are the worst enemy of my siblings! They’d be horrified! Also, asking our swordmasters hasn’t really worked… I’m too scared to ask Navarre or Ogma. They’re always so… frowny! And Lord Marth, Lord Alphonse and the rest are always busy. Mist said she doesn’t feel confident enough just yet to teach anyone… You’re also a cleric, Lady Lachesis. You must know how I feel! Please!
Lachesis: You’re not wrong, Maria. I also wished to be of more help to my… To everyone. The wish to learn is a commendable one, be it to protect yourself or your loved ones. Fine: we will start next week from today at dawn. I’m no fencing expert, but I should be able to help you start out.
Maria: Yes! Thank you so very much, Lady Lachesis!
Lachesis: Do not concern yourself. However, if we are to practice fencing… Do bring shorts and a chest guard instead of a dress, I implore you.
[Lachesis and Maria have reached support rank C.]
B SUPPORT
Maria: Phew… Ow…
Lachesis: Maria, this is the fourth time you have let yourself fall to the ground. You need to stand up.
Maria: This is… so hard… Ouch… My arms and my back hurt so much, and my heart is pounding…
Lachesis: Maria, dear. Are you sure about this? We have only just started.
Maria: I d-don’t know. I can’t picture myself blocking a strike from one of those burly emblian soldiers if I can’t even stand straight with this scrap of metal in my hands!
Lachesis: Nordion wasn’t built in one day, little princess. If you manage to train consistently you will be on par with the rest of the army in no time, I promise. Willpower is the key. You weren’t born with a staff by your side knowing every healing spell, isn’t that right? Swordplay is the same.
Maria: I know, but healing magic is different. The wizards at palace always said I had a natural talent for the arcane, something rare in the macedonian royal family. It was always easy to summon and required little effort on my part, at least at the beginning. That’s the main reason why I was never considered to inherit Hauteclare. I was sent to the cloister to hone my skills with the country’s best bishops. This… This just hurts my arms! But I have to keep it up, for everyone’s sake.
Lachesis: …
Maria: Lady Lachesis? Is something wrong? Why are you sheathing your sword?
Lachesis: Maria, I’m sure you can accomplish anything if you put your mind and soul into it. But right now your frame is small and your muscles are underdeveloped. You still have some years to grow up ahead of you. Getting a head start is fine. We do have some young, talented fighter in our ranks. However, if you only wish to learn how to wield a more offensive weapon, and not necessarily a melee one… Have you considered magic tomes?
Maria: Magic tomes? I tried using Merric’s book once, but nothing came out of it. I don’t think I can do it.
Lachesis: Well, Sir Merric happens to be a very advanced wind mage, so that tome might have been slightly too complicated for a novice such as yourself. Let me see, where did I put that old dusty… Oh, here it is!
Maria: A fire tome?
Lachesis: Indeed. Now, pay close attention to my hand movements. … There!
Maria: Good Naga! You can summon flames, Lady Lachesis!
Lachesis: Yes, I can. And if I can do it, I’m certain a magic prodigy like you can too. Take the tome and try imitating my words and movements. It will come easily to you, if my suspicions are correct.
Maria: … Whoa! Look, look!! There is fire in my hand!! It’s a fireball!
Lachesis: That it is. Amazing work, Maria. Now concentrate and make it fade away. Don’t burn your clothes. Yes, very well. You are already doing better than myself when I first started.
Maria: I had no idea you were also proficient at anima magic, Lady Lachesis! Is there something you can’t do?
Lachesis: *giggle* Plenty. But I have trained in all fighting styles. I am able to wield lances, axes and bows just as well as I do swords and staves; adding to that, I am proficient at horse riding as well as anima and light spellcasting. The only field I haven’t delved into is the arcane dark magic, as it is well known that it drives the curious mad.
Maria: Wow… You are even more amazing than I initially thought, Lady Lachesis! I knew you’d be the best teacher!
Lachesis: Hardly. I might have experience on many fields, but I am an expert on none of them. I do not have any great talents like you or… him. I might be of noble blood, but I am more of a common woman than many of our subjects. No matter how much I train, I will always be miles away from him. Never to be his equal…
Maria: Lady Lachesis…? Are you okay? Who are you talking about?
Lachesis: Oh, goodness. Please, forgive me, little Maria. I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment. I have the smallest of headaches right now. If you don’t mind, shall we continue your magical training next time?
Maria: Um, sure! Take care of yourself. And, uh, you can talk to me about anything, okay? Don’t bottle it up!
Lachesis: … My thanks.
[Lachesis and Maria have reached support rank B.]
A SUPPORT
Lachesis: Astounding. You have mastered all three anima elements in less than two months. Your teachers were right when they deemed you a genius.
Maria: *giggle* Oh, stop it! I’m going to blush! It’s really not that difficult. It just… comes naturally. I still have trouble with light magic, though. It requires such a calm state of mind… I just want to fry all who hurt my loved ones! I have no idea how Linde does it.
Lachesis: I’m sure you will master it in no time, just as you have done with the rest. If you keep up not only your magical training but the physical one too you have the potential to be the strongest war maiden Macedon has ever seen.
Maria: Now you’re pushing it! I have no interest in being some macedonian “war maiden”. I’ll leave that title to Minerva.
Lachesis: It doesn’t matter, you still have the potential. The talent. You are superior to plebeians such as me, Maria. Just like him. Like Eldigan. Always leaving the talentless people behind. Always leaving me behind…
Maria: Lady Lachesis! Calm down, everything is okay.
Lachesis: Oh… I apologize. I got carried away once again for no good reason. I should go rest…
Maria: Wait. Please, I need to know. Who is Eldigan? Is he someone dear to you?
Lachesis: … Eldigan is my brother, Lord of Nordion and inheritor of the legendary Mystletainn. There is no one in the world more perfect than him. Everyone always said so. Our teachers, our cortesans… And father. I don’t have the right to complain. He is son to the Nordion queen; I am a mere bastard daughter. I always knew I’d never be good enough for him. And yet, I tried.
Maria: Lady Lachesis…
Lachesis: I tried to become proficient at every weapon available to me, so he would allow me to ride alongside him in battle. However, I was never able to best him, no matter the nature of the duel. My teachers would congratulate me on my advances unenthusiastically, since I was a slow learner, and would instead pour all their efforts into my brother’s training. I tried to become a perfect lady. I learned how to cook the most exquisite meals, brew the best floral tea. I wore the most recent fashion trends, practiced the most straight, elegant stance, and trained my tongue to be as refined as possible when I talked. But he wasn’t interested. It still wasn’t enough.
Maria: Do you… resent Lord Eldigan?
Lachesis: Not at all. I do not resent him, just as I don’t resent you, Maria. Some people are born to be superior, and remain as such for the entirety of their life. Us common folk can try to catch up, but it is a futile task. I never wanted to surpass Eldigan. Only to be his equal. For him to notice me. But no one can best him, not even me. Not a talentless bastard.
Maria: … Shut up!
Lachesis: Huh?!
Maria: You’re speaking such… nonsense! What does talent even mean?! There is no such thing as being naturally superior! Some things come easier to you, others are harder to get used to. Everyone has different experiences. I can cast a fireball, sure, but I can’t even lift a crate without falling on my back! I can heal the wounded, but I’m not elegant or graceful. I want to impress Michalis and Minerva; I know I constantly say I want to be their equal. But… we already are.
Lachesis: What do you mean?
Maria: Every person is beatiful. Sometimes we do our best and we fail, and other times we don’t care and we succeed. We have our virtues, but we are also faulty. Nobody is perfect. Not me, not you, not my siblings or yours. And that’s the beauty of it all! Life would be so boring if we could just achieve anything instantly. If we were all the same, all perfect. Having both good points and bad points… That’s what makes us all equals.
Lachesis: Even evil people?
Maria: Evil people don’t exist. Only misguided people. That’s what I believe. That’s why I forgave Michalis after what he did to our father. Why I nursed him back to health. Someday… Someday I want everyone to realize this. Because conflict is born when people don’t realize we’re all of equal worth, no matter our social standing, blood or skill! We’re different, and that’s fine, but we’re are also the same, and… and… I’m not making any sense, am I?
Lachesis: *giggle* Thank you, Maria. You are truly wise beyond your years. I feel better now.
Maria: Are you sure? I can keep going! I can yap all day long if it stops you from saying you’re worthless!
Lachesis: It’s fine, I swear. I won’t say that anymore. In fact, you have made me think. I might have idolized Eldigan to the point where it is not reasonable anymore. What you said about blood and social standing… I do believe Eldigan would fight his best friends, or even me, if it was under the King’s orders. His ideals are always below those of his country’s ruler. And I find this to be a mistake, somewhat.
Maria: See? He is not perfect either. He might also need a Maria brand lecture! Or maybe just a staff to the head. Lady Lachesis, have you ever sat down to have a casual chat with your brother?
Lachesis: A… casual chat?
Maria: Yes! Just, like, sit down. Eat some pastries. Ask about each other’s days. Talk about your problems. Give each other advice. You know?
Lachesis: I-I could never. He’s always been above me in every way possi-
Maria: Lady Lachesis!
Lachesis: Oh, sorry! I did not mean to. … I guess we have never, no.
Maria: Then do it next time you see him. Ask about what he likes and what he doesn’t like. Ask about his worst fears. What he feels he could be better at. And don’t let him get away with a big brother or knightly response. Dig in! You will see he’s not as perfect as you pictured him to be. And when you get over the initial dissappointment, you will find yourself being able to reach him for the first time. Maybe not for a while. I’m still trying to be like Minerva and Michalis… But I know someday I’ll catch up! So you better keep up too! We can do it together!
Lachesis: … Yes. I will try that. Thank you, Maria. From the bottom of my heart.
Maria: No problem! And now that’s out of the way, you gotta keep teaching me about magic! Don’t make that face! Talent, if that’s a thing at all, has nothing on actual experience. So in exchange for my advice, you better keep giving me lessons. Maybe even some about how to be a classier lady. Uh uh! No protesting!!
[Lachesis and Maria have reached support rank A.]
S SUPPORT
Maria: I’m exhausted!!
Lachesis: Maria! You have barely tried today! I will not stand for this!
Maria: Ewww! But light magic is difficult and boring. It’s been months and I still can’t even light the way to the kitchen at night.
Lachesis: Well, it took me years to master it, so do limit your complaining. Not everything in life comes in a silver platter, little princess. You have to work for it most of the time.
Maria: Yes, I know, I know… You’re right, like always.
Lachesis: What are you trying to achieve, anyway, sneaking into the kitchens in the middle of the night? You do know the whole army shares those resources, right? You have better not been stealing. The notion of a leak in our security could turn the entire community upside down in just a moment.
Maria: I didn’t take anything! I just said I can’t see the way there, so I couldn’t steal even if I wanted to.
Lachesis: Oh, Maria, what will I do with you? I may end up having to ask Lady Minerva for macedonian royal family privileges if this keeps up. I feel like I might just be your big sister at this point!
Maria: … Well, you could become a part of the family if you wanted, but I’d rather you be something different than my sister.
Lachesis: I beg your pardon?
Maria: Lady Lachesis, I… I admire you so much! You’ve worked so hard all your life and you’ve become such a marvelous person, a fantastic warrior and a beautiful, elegant woman. You were always going on and on about talent and effort, but at the end of the day, I’m sure you never believed it yourself, because you never gave up. You always had hope and carried on, becoming better and better at everything you put your heart into. I lack that kind of patience, that commitment. I talk about impressing Minerva and Michalis, being like them, but now I want to impress you the most. You have achieved what no other lazy noble would go out of their way to accomplish. You are the true role model here, the one others should look up to and try to emulate. I want you to keep being my inspiration, Lady Lachesis, but not as my big sister… I want you to be my wife!
Lachesis: W-what?! Excuse me, c-could you say that again?
Maria: Lady Lachesis, I love you! I love you more than anything else! I want to be like you while I’m with you! Please marry me!
Lachesis: Oh, dear… Sweetie, I’m so flattered, but…
Maria: … but you won’t? You don’t like me, Lady Lachesis?
Lachesis: Of course I like you, Maria, honey. But you are young, way too young to think about marriage. You need to learn about life before you make such a big decision. Explore before you chain yourself, meet more people.
Maria: But… But… I want to be with you, Lady Lachesis! No one else!
Lachesis: That’s really sweet, but think about it. We are from different times, maybe even from different dimensions. How much longer do you think we’ll stay in Askr? You wouldn’t want to leave Minerva and Michalis alone back at Macedon, would you?
Maria: N-no…
Lachesis: And I also promised you that I would speak to Eldigan and fix our relationship. You have talked to me so much about your brother and how similar he is to mine. I believe I could use some of your life experiences in my favor in case he… Well, if he ever acts foolishly.
Maria: H-have I really been useful to you, Lady Lachesis…?
Lachesis: More than you could ever imagine. Now, now, don’t cry, or I will cry as well. I hate to see you sad.
Maria: Will you write me a letter every day when you go back to Nordion?
Lachesis: Of course. I will make sure to find one of Anna’s sisters and hire her to be my interdimensional mailwoman *giggle*. Listen, I want you to keep living a happy life back in your homeland, away from war and conflict, and find yourself a cute macedonian boy or girl to be the light in your life, since you can’t seem to conjure your own. Will you promise me that?
Maria: But when you’re the one setting the standard, Lady Lachesis, all other men and women will fall short of the mark…
Lachesis: Do not use my own logic against me, sweet child. You yourself made me change my point of view in that respect. Now, I’ll ask again. Will you promise?
Maria: Yes, b-but you gotta write every day! Every day! No protesting!!
Lachesis: No protesting, indeed.
[Lachesis and Maria have reached support rank S.]
#fire emblem mystery of the emblem#fire emblem shadow dragon#fire emblem genealogy of the holy war#female heroes#maria#lachesis#lachesis x maria#maria x lachesis#submission
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Making Speeches for the Harry Potter Festival - Part 1 of ?
I'll be giving speeches at Potter in the Park this year. That's a Harry Potter festival held in Sparta, Michigan. I'm the Professor of Muggle Studies. It's awesome! (Muggles are non-magical people.)
How did I get this position? I wrote a couple of articles on Harry Potter, which is an interest of mine. One of them was noticed by Rebecca, the woman that organizes the event. She contacted me and asked me if I wanted to be involved. Of course I said yes! Then we had to figure out how I would be involved. There were really only two good options, I could either do writing or public speaking. She had been wanting to have a Professor of Muggle Studies for a few years anyway. It worked out perfectly.
We worked out that I'll be speaking from the main stage. I've stood in that audience before and it's possible that it gets into the hundreds of viewers at a single time. Presenters on things like owls who have participated in previous years will have priority, so I'm not sure yet how much time I'll have. Potentially I'll be able to give two 30 minute and two 15 minute speeches, but that could change. That's 1.5 hours of original speaking content to be delivered in one day, and only for one day. That's quite the order. It shouldn't be a problem because there is a ton of material that I can make and I've given multiple 45 minute keynote addresses before, along with hundreds of smaller speeches.
There are two major steps here. 1) I have to choose what I'm presenting on. 2) I have to prepare the material. Execution is the next step, but that's more fun than work. There are also a number of smaller but important decisions to make. For instance, should I dress as a wizard? Or, should I be the professor who is so immersed in his study of muggles that he wears muggle clothes? If I wear muggle clothes should I wear them correctly, or should I get some things wrong? I'll leave those decisions for the future.
Also, I think I need a resume and a background. I assume someone will be announcing me. I want to coordinate my credentials. If not and I'm introducing myself then I can use these too, as long as I present it as the first day of class, which might be appropriate. I could do that for each speech. Here's what I'm thinking for a basic background.
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Jeffrey Alexander Martin
Visiting Lecturer - Sparta Institute for the Study of Muggles
Current Assistant Professor of Muggle Studies - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Former Professor of Muggle Studies - Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
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Notice that I've organized it in a way that explains my Midwestern American accent.
All of the speeches could be considered a part of one class, or I could make them separate classes. Currently I'm thinking it might be best to make them part of one class. But, it might take up a lot of room on the itineraries because you'll have to include the class and the specific class subject, otherwise it will look like I'm giving the same presentation four times, which I'm not. Anyway, I'm thinking the class can be MUG 207 - Muggles in Real Life.
I've been trying to reduce my ideas down to a manageable list to make the final decision on which subjects to move forward with. Here's the shortened list.
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1. Muggle Appliances - Dishwashers, Dryers, and Microwaves, Oh My!
2. Remarkable Muggle Mail
3. The Rise and Fall of the Muggle Duel
4. The History and Development of Muggle Flight
5. Do Muggles Believe in Dragons?
6. Current Research Project - The Relationship between crash test dummies and dummy lights.
7. My Exploration of the Many Uses of the Rubber Duck
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All of these could be interesting. I think it could be great to do the history of dueling. I could have a couple of people help me on stage by demonstrating. We would plant them in the audience at first and then bring them up just like calling on kids in the class. It would require more logistics though. We could go through wrestling, boxing, sword fighting, and pistols. It could be a lot of fun.
The idea for the current research project I think is hilarious. It's the equivocation fallacy, where you use the same word in two different ways and it's confusing. Politicians do this all the time for their own devious ends. It might seem to wizards and witches like there should be a relationship between crash test dummies and the dummy warning lights on the dash of a car, but there isn't. Maybe there is a huge research project where Ilvermorny and Hogwarts are collaborating to try to solve the mystery of this connection. I've mentioned it to a couple of people and no one really seemed enthused by it though, so it's a maybe.
I'm definitely going to do the speech on the many uses of the rubber duck. Here's a basic outline for what that speech would look like.
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1. My first accidental encounter with a rubber duck as a child.
2. Reading Arthur Weasley's paper on "The Many Uses of the Rubber Duck" while in school at Ilvermorny.
3. A teenage adventure to try to observe a rubber duck in action.
4. What the research has revealed: humor, entertainment, child training in animal interaction, water transportation, distraction, possible growth into hunting decoys, relation to the rubber chicken, play as life preparation.
5. Questions fielded from the class. (Possibly hundreds of people from a large crowd in front of the main stage.)
6. Homework assignments.
- - - - - - -
This would be one of the 15 minute slots. I'll leave the details for another post.
For those that are interested I'll dive into the basics of structuring a longer speech. If you join something like Toastmasters, which is what you should do if you're interested in speaking, then you'll have plenty of opportunities to give speeches from 5 to 7 minutes long. You'll also learn to give short speeches that are only a few minutes long, and some that are a bit more, 10 to 15 minutes. With this practice you'll learn to stay saying ah, uh, um, and, and, and, so, so, so, and such. You'll learn how to open with a powerful question and then leave a strong pause afterward, or how to start with a strong statement and position, or how to jump straight into a story. You'll learn how to connect two ideas. How to finish with something related back to the opening of the speech so it feels like the presentation is complete and came to a natural close. When to speed up and when to slow down, when to fluctuate your voice up and when it's useful to whisper. How to handle interruptions, introductions, exists, and props. What to do when you have no idea what to say next. How far you can push your emotional expression, how long you can pause before people start fidgeting, how to make eye contact with specific people, how to move across the stage when you're making a transition in the speech, what to do with your hands, how to hold notes, and how to set up imaginary scenes so that people can see them in their minds. You need to know all of this before you can be very good at speaking. I only really started getting comfortable with public speaking after I knew all of this. A few dozen speeches in and you'll probably be on your way to getting a basic feel for these things. All of that still applies in a longer speech, the structure is just a little different.
These smaller pieces that you develop are all self-contained, but they can be put together. For these speeches I'm going to think in 10 minute bits, because that goes into 30 minutes nicely. So, for a 30 minute speech I'll put 3 of these 10 minute pieces together. You can play with it, there is no hard and fast rule, public speaking is more of an art than a science. For instance, I might easily end up with four pieces instead of three when I'm actually making these speeches. Each of these 10 minute pieces will have its own structure.
The easiest way to do this is to present a story, and then make a point. My favorite structure is to ask a powerful question, take a several second pause, dive directly into a story, then make my point using the story to answer the question. This is just a beautiful structure. I can do this on the fly. At one point I was going to Toastmaster groups three days a week, I was an officer in each group, and I took a major role in almost every meeting. If we were missing a speaker I could always step in and give a speech. Either an idea I had been thinking about beforehand, or I could make an entire speech on the spot in 1 to 5 minutes. I prefer to speak with no notes, so that was never a problem. I've given so many speeches like this that it became a joke that I would always use this same speech structure, and sometimes people would smirk when I opened with a question. Which brings up the point that it's good to change it up sometimes too. The easiest change to make is to give a thesis at the beginning instead of a question. It will set a different tone for the whole presentation and will still work great. I've used this structure hundreds of times and I love it.
When you use the question or thesis opening there are several keys. One is that it has to be a good question or thesis. Two is that you have to pause long enough. This can be uncomfortable when you're new to public speaking. I was at a Toastmaster's conference several years ago and was called up on stage to get training from Darren LaCroix, a former World Champion of Public Speaking. I had won several speaking contests at this point, but I was still uncomfortable. It didn't help that there were 130 trained public speakers in the room that were all staring at me and judging me against some of the best speakers in the world.
Darren told me to start giving my speech. I was using a statement to open. "Imagine you're on a two thousand foot ice cliff looking down! I turned to Jeremiah who was standing next to me and..." There are specific motions, looks, and voice fluctuations that go with this. I did all of that. Darren stopped me on my second sentence. He said I didn't pause long enough after that first statement. He said do it again, but pause longer this time.
I did it again, said it the same way, paused longer. Darren stopped me again. He said I didn't pause long enough again. He came up with a new plan. This time he was going to stand behind me. I would give my first line using the microphone like before and he would start whispering his thoughts into my ear. Only when he stopped talking was I allowed to give my second sentence. He whispered for a long time, probably a full five seconds. It seemed like forever. After I gave my second line he clapped, everyone clapped, and he explained the importance of knowing how to pause. I learned a lot about public speaking in those few minutes.
That story brings to my mind one other important thing. Stories are what connect people. Humans are made to learn from and to live in stories. It's how we work. That's why a lot of business presentations fall flat, they forget that the human mind is made to understand things in a narrative. My favorite public speaker is Bo Eason, and he really emphasizes the power of story. Several years ago I flew from Michigan to California to see him perform his one man play "Runt of the Litter" and I was able to talk with him at the after party. I was amazed at how dynamic and alive he makes even simple stories.
I still have to pick three more subjects and make outlines for those speeches. Then I have to work out the details of all four speeches. That will be for another post. I'm looking forward to the festival.
Here are some of my other articles on Harry Potter:
What Makes Voldemort, Grindelwald, and Slytherin Bad?
http://www.jeffreyalexandermartin.com/2019/01/what-makes-voldemort-grindelwald-and.html
Why is Slytherin House Bad?
http://www.jeffreyalexandermartin.com/2019/01/why-is-slytherin-house-bad.html
John Galt, Harry Potter, and Hero Problems
http://www.jeffreyalexandermartin.com/2019/02/john-galt-harry-potter-and-hero-problems.html
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You can find more of what I'm doing at http://www.JeffreyAlexanderMartin.com
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Lanval was ten years old when his father told him that he would be Morgana’s guard instead of taking his father’s seat as Lord of Castle Fleur.
“It’s not fair!” Lanval whined, stomping his foot hard on the red carpeted floor.
Lord Forlæ looked up from the parchment on his desk, his eyebrow crooked at his eldest son. “You’re being given an honor far greater than a mere lordship Lanval.”
“Being some girls guard isn’t an honor.” Lanval grumbled, looking down at his feet as he did. “Just because some old guy…”
“That’s enough Lanval!” Lord Forlæ snapped. The man’s face twinged, before he sat back, taking a deep breath. He began to speak again, his voice more level, and gentle now. “The Wizard Ambrose entrusted the care of the late King Uther’s daughters to me, and only my eldest son would do for such a grand task.”
Lanval kicked his feet, still avoiding eye contact with his father. “But, why?” Lanval asked, finally looking up at his father, tears beginning to well in his eyes.
Lanval’s father stood up, almost running around his desk, and kneeling to hug his son.”shhh, shhhhh. Don’t cry lad, it’ll be alright.”
“But, but… I just wanted to be like you daddy.” Lanval stuttered, tears streaming down his face now as his father held him tight.
Lanval’s father pulled him, moving his hand in a circle on his son’s back as his son cried into his shirt.
Lanval was twelve the first time he met Morgana.
The three sisters arrived on his father’s return from a hunting trip, in the small hours of the morning. Lanval was woken from his sleep by his mother, who had his armor, bow, and sword laid out for him.
Lady Forlæ served as her son’s squire, as she clad him in armor bearing a crest different from her husbands, made specifically for the protector of the King’s children.
Heading down the stairs, lanval and his mother made their way to the cellar where Lord Forlæ was waiting with the sisters. The oldest was maybe a year or two older than Lanval, and no taller than him. She was wearing a shabby brown cloak, but bits of a tattered red dress could be seen peeking out from underneath. She was holding in her arms the youngest sister, who couldn’t have been more than three years old. She was wrapped in an oversized cloak of similar cut to her sisters that was far too large for her. The middle child was holding the eldests free hand, and wearing a cloak that looked like it had once been a vibrant red, but had been ruined by hard travel, and had a large brown patch where a whole had been. Poking out from under her hood was long curly black hair, barely touched by the dirt that covered the eldest.
Despite the vibrant colors of the middle sisters clothes, Lanval couldn’t remove his focus from the purple slitted eyes of the eldest girl. To him, it looked as if a powerful flame was burning in the amethyst discs as she stared at him.
“Is this him?” The eldest asked, not taking her eyes off of Lanval
“Yes Princess Morgana,” Lord Forlæ answered, gesturing to Lanval. “This is my son, Lanval Forlæ.”
Morgana walked up to Lanval, leading her sister with her. “A pleasure to meet you Young Lord Forlæ,” she began, leading her sisters in a curtsy. “My name is Morgana Orkney, this is my sister Morgause, and the sleeping girl in my arms is Elaine.”
Lanval bowed, keeping his eyes locked on Morgana’s. “The pleasure is mine your royal highnesses,” Lanval began, doing his best to remember his courtesies as they all rose back to standing. “I will give everything I have to protect you and your sisters.”
“I am certain that you will,” Morgana replied curtly, walking back to Lord Forlæ who was finishing tying down a few crates to a small cart that had been fashioned to be pulled by an individual instead of a beast of burden.
“You’ll have enough food for about a week, after that you’ll have to rely on hunting,” The man said, looking off into the darkness with a miserable expression on his face. The past year had not been kind to the lord, his blonde hair had gone almost entirely white, and his once bright and alert blue eyes had become sunken and dull. “Stick to streams and rivers if you can, it’ll be a good source of water as well as fish.”
“I know father,” Lanval said, placing his mostly empty bag next to one of the small crates.
“I’ve taught you the best I can,” Lanval’s father said, kneeling down so he was eye level with his son. “You’ll do me proud, I know it.” Lanval’s father placed a kiss on top of his sons long golden hair, before rising, his wife quickly filling the void, covering her son in kisses wet from tears.
“I will see you again mother, I promise,” Lanval said, barely holding back the tears that were starting to fill his eyes. “Until we meet again.”
Lanval took up the wooden handles of the cart, beginning to walk down the secret tunnel that would normally act as an emergency escape route in case of an invasion, but instead served as an escape for a different family. As they neared the exit, Lanval noticed that the sisters were beginning to lag behind.
“I’m so sorry, you must be tired,” he realized, stopping the cart. “If you want, you can sleep in the cart, it won’t be too comfortable, but at least that way you’ll be able to rest.
Morgana seemed like she was about to speak when Her younger sister tugged at her hand. She looked at Morgause, who seemed to whisper something Lanval couldn’t quite make out, then Morgana returned her attention to their new guard. “That would be most appreciated young Ser.” Morgana said, curtsying briefly before leading her sisters to the back of the cart. She tucked Elaine against Lanval’s bag, and then helped Morgause up, who searched for a comfortable position to lay down.
“You should get some rest your highness,” Lanval urged as Morgana came up beside him.
“You do not look terribly weak, but you are still just a boy,” Morgan said, grabbing one of the Cart handles. “If we are going until the morrow, you will need help.”
“Your Highness ple…”
“Call me Morgana,” she said, moving forward, forcing Lanval to as well. “It will make treating me like a person easier.”
“Morgana it is then,” Lanval said, smiling at her as they walked out into the forests.
Morgana starred at the boy for a moment, before smiling back.
Lanval was 14 when he first heard Morgana cry.
The small group followed Lanval’s fathers advice, sticking to the rivers as often as the cart would allow. For the first few days they stayed within Lanval’s family wood, making it easy to avoid people. Eventually however, they entered free territory, land under the rule of the Forlæs, but not exclusive to the family.
The first time they had to go into a village was to sell their cart. They hadn’t gotten much for it, but they were able to barter for a few days worth of food. The farmer they traded with asked about where the adults were, but Morgana explained that they were setting up camp a few miles down the road, and that Lanval was enough protection for the time being. They all agreed then, that they’d make up a cover ahead of time from now on.
The next time they visited a village was when Lanval’s armor began to grow too tight for him. They managed to find a farrier who was willing to break the steal down for scrap. Lanval requested that he could keep the thin green plate coat of arms that had been small for him when his armor fit, but was quickly becoming closer to a belt buckle size. The ferrier said it wasn’t worth anything to him, not any market for something like that in a village. That didn’t dissuade Lanval however. This money was extra more than anything else.
They bought clothes for them all with their new found wealth, since even as scrap, Lanval’s armor had more value than most farmers would see in a year. They bought simple brown dresses for Morgause and Elaine, both too big for them, giving them room to grow. Morgana bought herself trousers, and a plain tunic, and Lanval got much the same. Lanval also took this opportunity to restock his arrows, and buy some extra rope, as their supply was beginning to dwindle.
Almost a week later, Lanval took notice of how Morgause’s changed. She whined and complained about how she missed the pretty dress she had before, and no matter how much Morgana tried to console her, she wouldn’t stop. Lanval did his best to help Morgana by keeping Elaine entertained, but he’d always have to gather food.
On the days when they were in a good spot for fishing, he’d take Elaine with him, and even started to teach her how. He’d also take her to check the traps he’d set if they stayed somewhere long enough, being careful to carry her over any hidden triggers. Whenever he went hunting however, which was more often than not, he would have to leave her behind with her sisters, giving Morgana one more thing to worry over.
It was the night after a particularly rough day, as Lanval was hunting most of it, and had only caught a single rabbit. They had all gone to sleep, their stomachs partially filled by the watery stew. Lanval was tracing the shape of the golden intertwining vines, his fingers bowing out as he reached the two leaves at their end. As his fingers reached the tip of the leaves, he heard a quick, sharp gasp from behind him. As he began to reach for his sword, he heard a muffled sob.
Lanval played with the idea of going to her side, but thought better of it. Morgana was too proud, she would never admit that she was crying, and would be cross with him if he even suggested she had been. Instead, he concocted a plan.
The next morning he made a fire to heat up what little stew they had left for breakfast. He then got ready to go for a hunt, saying that he might not be back until dinner time, and to eat some of the vegetables he’d gathered without him once it drew close to noon.
Though he did fully intend to go hunting for game, his first mark was something different. They were near a larger village, which should’ve had exactly what he was looking for. He spent several hours looking and asking around, until he finally found his target. He spent all the gold that they had remaining, but he had ideas of other ways they could make coin.
It was already past noon by the time Lanval made his way back to the woods, but the Gods seemed the smile on him this day. Mere minutes after he entered the brush, he discovered a set of buck tracks. He slowly followed them, deeper into the forest, an arrow half knocked in his bow. The sky was beginning to turn red when he saw it, a tall white tail, with antlers as majestic as the branches of the trees. Lanval said a quiet prayer to the goddess of the hunt as he drew his bow, and as he muttered the last word, the buck turned to look at Lanval with its big brown eye as Lanval’s arrow pierced it.
Lanval slowly lugged the animal back to the camp, which was made easier by the whining coming from it. As he drew closer the camp, the noise suddenly dropped, and when he broke the tree line he saw Morgana, holding the knife they used for cutting the vegetables and skinning fish, Morgause holding her hand over Elaine’s mouth. Morgana relaxes her shoulders when she saw who it was, and Morgause let go of her baby sister, who ran up to Lanval excitedly, hugging his legs as he dropped the buck.
“Careful kiddo, don’t wanna drop this thing on ya, do you?” Lanval laughed ruffling the little girls black hair.
“I’m sowy Lanny, I missed ‘ou,” Elaine answered, burying her face in Lanvals pant leg.
“I’m sorry, but I got something for you,” Lanval answered, separating the little girl from his leg and kneeling down, putting his bag in front of him. The little girl watched attentively as Lanval pulled out a small wooden figure of a hunter, as well as a princess. “Whenever I’m out hunting, you can play with these, okay?”
“Sank you So much Lanny!” Elaine squealed, throwing her arms around his neck before running over to the fire to begin playing make believe.
“And for you princess Morgause,” Lanval began, standing up as he pulled out a crimson cloak and handing it to the blonde. “Not as fine as your old dress, but I hope it’s some compensation.”
Before he could even finish the sentence, Morgause was removing the pin from her old cloak, which she let drop to the forest ground. She rapped the cloak around her shoulders, pinning it closed, so posing with it. “How do I look?”
“Radiant as ever your royal highness,” Lanval answered with an overly dramatic bow.
Morgause giggled, running off to join her little sister as Morgana picked the cloak off the ground, shaking off the dry dirt.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, folding the red cloak as she spoke.
“It was no problem at all,” Lanval lies, placing his hand on his small belt pouch.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but how much did all this cost?”
“We still had some coin left after those gifts,” Lanval said before pulling out a small brass broach, with a small, unpolished amethyst encrusted in it. “But this took the rest sadly.”
Morgana starred at the broach for a while, a rapid series of expressions going across her face. Lanval began to worry that he made the wrong decision when she gently took it from his hand.
“My step father had a wizard named Merlin,” she began, taking off the cloak she was wearing, and putting on the red one, clasping it with the broach. “I would always study with him instead of my tutors. One time when we were talking about stones, he told me that Amethysts had the power to relieve stress, and negative emotions.”
“I, I honestly just thought it would look good with your eyes.” Lanval said, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly.
“Well it’s sweet either way,” Morgana said, touching the cloak, that seemed to be too big for her even. “This was his.”
“The wizard’s?”
“No, my step father’s,” she said, looking wistfully at the broach before snapping back to reality. “What are we going to do about money? We don’t have much left to trade that’s worth anything to villagers, and going to bigger cities seems like a bad idea.”
“Well for starters, I don’t think we’re going to eat this whole deer,” Lanval started, gesturing to the buck. I can sell the half the meat to a butcher, the hide to a tanner, and the village physician should be able to make good use of the antlers. We won’t get as much as we did from my armor, but it should get us by until I find another one.”
“What if you don’t find one while we are near a village?”
“Well if the gods are kind, then that won’t happen.”
“When are the gods ever kind?” Morgana asked turning away from him.
Lanval wanted to say something to comfort her, but as he reached out his hand to her, he changed his mind, and turned back to the buck to begin field dressing it. “Sometimes.”
Lanval was eighteen the first time he risked his life for Morgana.
They were nearing the border to Albion, and had made camp a few miles away from the wall.
“So we have two options here,” Lanval said, unfurling his map next to the fire. “We can either try to scale the wall in between two checkpoints, which should be heavily guarded if news of the war is true. Or, we can take a chance that Lord Oer lets us through.”
“Cynfarch was close friends with our father in life,” Morgause said, cheerfully. “And Morgana was engaged to his son Uriens
“Though Lord Oer did not come to our step father’s aid when Gorlois Orkney attacked.” Morgana added, her brow furrowed as she stared at the map. “Though I don’t think scaling the wall is going to be easy either.”
“So we’re stuck with two gambles,” Lanval said, looking at the tiny towers that marked the checkpoints, noting how close they were to each other. “Either we risk falling from a wall as some mercenary on watch cut our ropes, or hope that the reason Lord Oer didn’t come to your step father’s aid is because his keep was too far away.”
Morgana starred at the map a while longer before looking over to her sisters. Elaine was nearing her tenth year, and though Morgause was almost Lanval’s age, she was frail and not built for climbing.
“Let’s take our chances with Lord Oer,” Morgana said finally, looking over to Lanval.
“Well, we don’t want to wake the Lord do we,” Lanval answered, rolling up the map and standing up. “We want him well rested, that way he’ll be in a better mood, more likely to let us past.”
“Can you tell me a story Lanny?” Elaine asked, jumping up from her seat by the fire pit.
“Okay, but you better go to bed right after, okay?” Lanval said, picking the little girl up before plopping down against a tree near the clearing center.
Lanval began telling a story his mother used to tell him before he went on this journey, a lifetime ago. A story of a brave knight who fell in love with a faerie, and the jealous Queen who tried to come between them. Lanval was beginning to tell the climax of the story when the first arrow flew into the campsite, landing by the fire.
Lanval quickly threw a blanket over Elaine, rushing over to his bow as Morgause screamed. The second arrow cane then, less than a second after the first, landing in Lanval’s shoulder. He let out a sharp gasp as his hand wrapped around his bow.
In an instant he had knocked an arrow, and fired into the forest where the arrows had come from. He heard a scream, and another arrow came out of the forest, arched high and not hitting anything but dirt. Taking another shot in the same direction, Lanval heard the clink of steal on steal, as a man clad in black armor, an arrow in his white embedded in his white shield.
“RUN!” Lanval shouted, dropping his bow and scrambling for his short sword. He stood up, putting himself between the knight and the sisters.
The opposing knight didn’t give Lanval a chance to fight, throwing his spear at Lanval’s chest, but it still struck him in the shoulder without the arrow.
Lanval collapsed to the ground, unable to keep fighting through the pain. He didn’t feel it when the black clad knight ripped the spear out of his muscle, tearing flesh and muscle as he did.
‘Black Knight…’ Lanval thought between the screaming in his head. He managed to turn himself so he could see the knights back. ‘Does he have a Lord? Is he a Black Knight?’
As he watched him walk towards Morgana, who was throwing stones and sticks from the fire at him, Lanval was barely able to make out a black inverted v on his white cape, one raven occupying the bottom center, and two on either side of it. The sigil of house Oer.
Lanval didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was in a long dark stone hall, lit only by sparse torches. When he tried to move from his kneeling position, he realized that his arms and legs were chained to the floor, and the stress of pulling against them caused his left shoulder to go numb.
“So the brave knight awakens!” A mocking voice said. It took a few seconds for Lanval’s eyes to adjust, but once he did, he saw a man a few years older than himself clad in all black besides the crest of house Oer emblazoned on his chest. He was sitting upon a raised dark oak thrown, cushioned with white velvet like material. Below him, was Morgana, wearing an elegant white and black dress, her only jewelry the broach Lanval bought her.
“Are you alright Lanval?” Morgana asked, an expression akin to terror gracing her face for a moment before she composed herself.
“I’m not dead yet,” Lanval joked, but the frog in his throat gave him reason to think he might be soon. “Are your sisters safe?”
“The other Orkney sisters are comfortable in their chambers, no need to worry about them,” the black clad man answered, smirking down at Lanval. “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you. You killed a king’s knight this evening.”
“The King is dead,” Lanval answered, his brow furrowing as he looked up at the man.
“Yes, King Uther died with no heirs, but the four kingdoms of the Angles need a ruler,” he said, standing up from his throne and extending his arms. “None of the other great Lords seized the opportunity, so why not me, Urien Oer of the Rheged. I was Betrothed to the late king’s eldest daughter after all, and now that you’ve returned her to me, I can be again.”
“I am his step daughter Urien,” Morgana replied, removing her gaze from Lanval for a moment. “Any claim I give you will be contested by the same who would defy you without me.”
“But it just might win over those who wish to fall in line, but fear to.”
“And what if I refuse?” Morgana asked, putting a foot on the first step up to the throne.
“Then I’d kill you, and marry Morgause instead,” Lanval lurched at this, pulling against the chains, but Morgana shot him a concerned yet stern look, that said stop. When Lanval obeyed, the smirk on Uriens face widened into a full smile.
“Threats will not work on me Urien,”
“Then perhaps a gift?” He asked, sitting back on his throne, crossing his legs as he smiled down at her. “I’ll pardon your pet of his crimes, maybe even knight him if that pleases you. I’ll even let you take him to your bed, as long as you have a son with black hair, I don’t give a damn about who the father is.”
“Hold your tongue!” Lanval snapped, glaring up at Urien, who simply smirked in reply before turning his attention back to Morgana, who had kept her gaze square on Uriens face.
“What shall it be?” He asked, drumming his fingers on his arm rest.
“He’ll need his crest back,” Morgana answered. “You May be knighting him, but he will be mine, and those leaves are my brand.”
“Morgana, please don’t…”
“It’s a deal then,” Urien said, standing from his throne and walking towards Lanval. “Brodwin, bring him his weapons and let him out of his binds.”
The black clad knight from earlier stepped out of the shadows, holding Lanval’s weapons in his left hand. He dropped them in front of Lanval as he bent down and unshackled him with a key he produced from a belt pouch on his hip. “Dat man ye killed was m’ friend,” he whispered in Lanval’s ear before standing and stepping back a few feet.
Lanval looked at his sword, to his bow,then up at the man standing before him, and then to Morgana, who had walked up beside Urien. Lanval grabbed his sword, stood up, and walked over to Morgana before kneeling in front of her, presenting his blade to her. “I pledge my bowand life to you, Princess Morgana.”
Morgana looked over to Urien, a sly smile dancing on her lips. He nodded, approving Lanval’s appointment.
“Rise, Ser Lanval,” Morgana said, taking Lanval’s bow and touching the tips to each of his shoulders. “You shall perform your vigil beginning midday on the Morrow once your wound has been properly treated.”
“I’ll have one of my physicians look at…” Urien began, before Morgana cut him off.
“I will tend to him myself,” she said as she helped him to his feet. “Please tell my sister the good news.”
“They shall hear of our betrothal when the break their fast,”
“That as well, of course,” Morgana replied off handedly as she lead her new knight out of the hall, all his weapons in hand. “We shall be in my chambers if you have need of us.”
Morgana lead Lanval through the weaving halls of the castle up to the highest tower. They’d have to pause every few minutes so that they both could breath. Lanval tried to use those moments to talk, but Morgana would hush him, saying that he needed to save his strength.
Once they made it to her chambers, that were large, and well decorated, but absolutely coated in blacks and grays with no room for any color, Morgana slapped Lanval hard across the face.
“What was that for?!”
“For being such a stupid, pig headed, brave, idiot!” Morgana replied, beginning to pace the room. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“I promised I’d protect you with my life, I knew the risks.”
“You were twelve!” Morgana snapped, turning back on him.
“I’m not twelve anymore.”
“Don’t remind me,” Morgana said, sitting on her new bed. “I took your childhood from you, it isn’t fair.”
“You make it sound like you’ve had it easy,” Lanval said, sitting next to Morgana. “I didn’t say anything before, because I know how hard you try to stay strong for us, but when I can’t sleep at night, I hear your crying. Sometimes you’re awake, but usually you’re asleep, dreaming I think. You keep asking your father not to do something.”
“Stop it,” Morgana said, looking away from Lanval. That’s different, you didn’t cause that, my fathers did, fighting over my mother, and now because of it our country has no king. And now because of you, the person with the best claim to the crown is Urien.”
“Let’s not worry about that now, I have the beginnings of a plan to get us back on track,” Morgana said, her voice calm again. “Now strip.”
“What?” Lanval asked as Morgana began unlacing the back of her dress.
“I need to heal that wound, and it’s easier if the area is visible,” Morgana answered calmly, baring her chest as she pulled the top of her dress to her hips.
“I guess that makes sense, but why do you need to be naked?” Lanval asked, pointedly keeping his eyes locked with Morgana’s.
“Because I’m using magic,��� Morgana answered, placing her amethyst broach next to Lanval. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“I’m sorry, I’m still confused,” Lanval stuttered as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Are you a witch?”
“No, I’m a Wizard,” Morgana said, placing one hand on Lanval’s wound, and the other on the Amethyst. “A witch or a warlock gain their powers from a god, or daemon, I gained mine through studdy.”
As she finished the sentence, she began repeating a phrase in a language lanval has never heard before. At first, nothing happened, but then Lanval began to feel an itching sensation at the edge of the wound. The itchiness became more an more intense as time went on, and slowly built to a burning. He grabbed her arm to try and get her off, but when he did, he saw that the torn flesh was moving from his shoulder up her arm. He sat there for the duration, paralyzed in horror as the wound moved across her chest, down her other arm, and then into the Amethyst.
“There you go, all fixed up,” Morgana said before passing out into Lanval’s arms. He barely had enough time to move her to the bed before he slipped into unconsciousness as well.
Lanval was thirty one when he met the boy he’d call his son.
Lanval was tending to his flock of sheep, enjoying the peace as he thought of his days as a Knight of the Round Table. As he brought them back into their pin, he noticed a man dressed in chainmail and a red padded hauberk emblazoned with the golden dragon of the Pendragons. In his arms was a small bundle of purple cloth
“Are you Ser Lanval La Fey?” The man asked as Lanval closed the gate.
“Never heard that name before,” Lanval replied, walking towards the man. “Though I can get a message to him if you need.”
The man sighed, looking Lanval up and down? “She said you’d say that. Antonio Lincoln then?”
“Now that would be me,” Lanval answered, leaning against his crook. “Who’s she, if I’m allowed to ask Ser.”
“I’m not a knight Ser, but, the King’s sister Morgana,” the man answered.
“Is that so?” Lanval said, resisting the urge to smile broadly.
“Yes Ser,” the man said, looking down at his bundle. “She said that the notes would explain everything.”
The man handed Lanval the bundle, which contained to letters, though Lanval didn’t notice them at first as he was distracted by the infant boy in his arms.
“Who’s child is this?” Lanval asked, wide eyed. It had only been five months since his banishment, in he was certain that Morgana was not with child when he left.
“All she’d tell me is his name was Thomas Arthur, and the letters had the rest,” the man said, bowing his head. “I’ll bring you an allowance on the month until you or the King say otherwise Ser.”
Lanval watched as the man walked back to his horse by the road, his eyes still wide with confusion. The man came back after a moment with a waterskin that had a nipple like cap on it, handing it to Lanval.
“It’s sheep milk, he’s still not eating real food yet,” the man said, looking down at the child. “I should be off now.”
“Do you want to say goodbye?” Lanval asked, looking down at the child he was being given. “I need a few minutes to read these letters anyway.”
“I would like that, yes, thank you,” the man answered, accepting the child back for a moment.
Lanval took out the note that was labeled with a large 1 in Bedivere’s handwriting. It was all technical things about how much money he’d be receiving to take care of the boy, and a plan for raising and feeding the child. Bedivere did sign off his note with a bit of personal information. ‘I apologize for sentencing you to death due to the existence of a law as foolish as the disallowance of love between a Lady and her Knight, sincerely, Justiciar Bedivere Bedrysant.’
Lanval chuckled at that, even when Bedivere was sincere, he couldn’t help but being proper. He put down the first letter, and looked at the second one. It was labeled with a large 2 in the swooping elegant handwriting of Morgana.
The final line was simple, but it brought tears to the former knights eyes. ‘Your’s, now and forever, Morgana La Fey.’
Eventually Andrew approached, kneeling down next to him. “Are you alright Ser?” He asked, rocking the baby back in forth.
“Yes, just, tell her I feel the same, would you?” Lanval answered, taking the boy in his arms. “I know it sounds cliché, but this is the happiest day of my life.”
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Immortality
Written for @oblviqte‘s Triwizard Tournament Second Task: Creatures (I really hope I could wrote something like this, haha)
Immortality. Something what human beings desire the most in the world. This and power, of course. However, it's possible to say that these two things are connected. Being immortal means that you can't be stopped because no one and nothing can kill you. Not even Death, Thanatos, himself.
But is being immortal a good thing?
Fawkes knows a thing or two about immortality. All because he's a phoenix. A mythological creature, a symbol of rebirth since it can't die. Because always, when it's getting old, it will burn and reborn a minute later.
Fawkes witnessed many things in his life. He witnessed raises and falls of cities, countries and, of course, rises and falls of people. And if he had to be honest, those were always the most dangerous. Sometimes he wondered how it was possible that humans were considered as the best among living creatures.
He witnessed many things, he travelled around the world trying to find his place and finally he found himself in the Great Britain, and being more specific: he found himself in Scotland, in place called Hogwarts.
It was in the tenth century because it was time when Founders lived. Fawkes was impressed by them. Those four wizards were very powerful and incredibly gifted. In fact it was their magical energy which attracted him to this place. So he stayed there, away from their sight, obviously.
Hogwarts was a place where he met her. Mundus (what can be translated as “Pure”) was a young basilisk of Salazar Slytherin which he brought in order to keep school save from Muggles. Fawkes wasn't a big fan of this man, he considered him an evil wizard, but he had to admit that he cared about the little snake. And Fawkes himself was charmed by her. The phoenix used to visit the Chamber of Secrets where Mundus lived and together they spent their days. But it didn't last long because Slytherin had an argument with the rest of Founders and put Mundus into hibernation, so she could be awakened when Hogwarts needed to be protected. Salazar himself left school.
Fawkes lost his friend for over thousand years. But what he didn't know back then was the fact, that their reunion would be their last meeting.
Mundus heard a voice. For the first time in a very long time. But it wasn't her master. This voice was different. It wasn't gentle. It was... demanding? She didn't like it. She didn't like the voice and the owner of the voice. Such a strange boy, this one. He was tall, had black hair and could be consider as charming if not the look in his eyes.
His name was Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle. And he was her master's heir. But Mundus could already tell that she despised the boy.
He forced her to kill a girl. And she didn't want to kill her because she was supposed to protect school from evil Muggles. After all it was the reason her master brought her. But this boy... this... monster used his power against her. He was the heir and she was obligated to listen to him.
And then he put her into hibernation. Maybe it's a good thing, she thought. Because while sleeping she won't be able to kill anyone.
Ah! The voice is back. The heir returned and once again used her to attack students of Hogwarts. But this time he was using an innocent girl. What a poor thing, she thought. Being forced into something she didn't want to. Just like her.
“Kill him!” said the heir when a black-haired boy with glasses entered the Chamber of Secret in order to save his red-haired friend. “Kill him!”
She didn't want to kill him. She really didn't want to and tried to fight it, but she didn't have choice. The obligation was too strong. She was the heir's slave and she had to do as he ordered her. And she really hated herself for that.
She was about to attack the boy when suddenly she hear it. Her friend's song. Fawkes, she thought. Her friend was here. He was still here!
She looked at him. He still looked the same what wasn't surprising taking into account that he's a phoenix. That was also the reason why her sight didn't kill or petrified him. A phoenix can't be killed.
If she could frown, she would because he looked at her apologetically. She didn't have to wait long to know why because a few moments later she felt an incredible pain. Fawkes took out her eyes so the young boy could have a chance to defeated her.
“NO!” she heard the heir's voice. He was angry. “Use your hearing to kill him! I want to see him DEAD!”
She had to fulfil his request so she resumed her attack. She still tried to fight with it, but Tom's magic was too strong. She cursed herself that she was just a creature and the wizard had power over her. Because he turned her into something she didn't want to be: a monster and murderer.
WHAT A PAIN!
She cried when a sword pierced her because never in her life she felt such a strong pain. If she still had her eyes, she would cry. It hurt so much! She heard Riddle's yelling in background, she heard as he ordered her to fight back, but she wasn't able. The pain was too strong and she knew it was over. But before her body collapsed on the floor, she smiled to herself. She didn't want to die in pain but she preferred to be dead than serving such a cruel man.
Thank you, little wizard, for freeing me from slavery, she thought before she was gone. Forever.
There's a saying that you are what you eat. But Fawkes thought that people, especially wizards, should consider another one: you become what you are. If you ask wizards about dementors, they will tell you that they are the worst creatures in the world and that they are born in dark, isolated places. But it's a lie in which ignorant wizards use to believe. But they are right about one thing. Dementors indeed are the worst creatures in the world.
All because dementors are humans.
Fawkes witnessed the creation of the first dementor. It was a very arrogant wizard in his late thirties. His name was Cadmus Peverell. Yes, the owner of the Resurrection Stone from the famous tale named “The Tale of the Three Brothers”. Death can't be cheated, and what is more important: he really doesn't like when people try to humiliate him.
Thanatos gave Cadmus the Stone, but the price he had to pay was terrible. When wizards repeat the story, they say that the middle brother killed himself because his beloved fiancée returned to him but not fully alive. But it's not the truth. Cadmus never died and never will be because he was turned into dementor. It was his punishment for wanting to humiliate Death. He was forced to live in this form to the end of time (and soon, obviously, other people joined him and that's why there's a lot of dementors).
Fawkes met him again in 1993 when dementors were at Hogwarts because Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban Prison they were guarding. He didn't look well. Dementors don't have eyes but Fawkes was convinced that if they had, Cadmus would cry. He was more than sorry for what he did many years ago and was begging for mercy. But Death doesn't know such word. The man wanted to humiliate him and gain immortality then immortal he will be.
Fawkes felt sorry for him, but then again it was all his own fault.
Dumbledore was gone and he felt lost. Because Dumbledore was the only human he cared about. He was bonded to him and his death had a great impact on him. He wasn't able to stay at Hogwarts anymore. Sure, he was here before Dumbledore, but right now it's not the same. He loved this wizard (even if he wasn't that saint) and without him he felt empty. As if part of him was gone.
Right now he was observing a man responsible for his Albus' death. Voldemort might not kill him in person but because of his stupid horcruxes the old wizard was gone. And Fawkes hated him for that (and for many other things).
“I told you that you shouldn't get attached to humans,” he heard a voice behind him. He turned his little head and saw a figure dressed in black robes. Thanatos himself. “They all will be gone at some point.”
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Instead, the phoenix once again turned towards the man.
“Believe me, his fate is worse than being a dementor,” Death said casually as if he was talking about the weather. The bird looked at him. “No human can be immortal. He parted his soul seven times so he'll suffer seven times more than Peverell. No human can escape me.”
Fawkes titled his head. What could be worse than being a dementor?
“It doesn't matter now. Come. It's time for you to finally go home with me. You were away for far too long.”
The creature said nothing just looked at Riddle for the last time and flew to sit on Thanatos' shoulder. He cursed his fate that he was born as a phoenix. Because immortality wasn't a blessing but a horrible curse. It's a shame that humans seem to not know about it.
#twt second task#obliviqte#hp writing#Fawkes#crvdence#txmriddlx#my writing#I really don't know if it's well#but... yeah#I'm such a loser
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