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lightkeeping · 2 months

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Tell us what’s in Elijah’s closet? What’s his style? How does he dress? Does he mend his clothes on his own? Does he ever leave town to buy new clothes or does he only get what’s available to him? Does he have pieces that are decades old? Does Claudia bring him clothes when she comes over?

@nezumivc103221

So, Elijah’s “style” is somewhat eclectic, he doesn’t really have a defined look. A lot of his clothes are what you might call workwear — they are comfortable, functional, everyday things that he wears around his home.

A lot of it is to deal with battling the elements around the coast; naturally some of it has a bit of marine flair due to his profession. Think about corduroy, thick wool knitwear, rough jeans, work boots or wellingtons, a waxed windbreaker. Nothing really slim-fitted, as he needs to move around.

His way of dressing is also kind of old-fashioned, but it’s not out of place considering his appearance, and for the small fishing village he lives in. He’s not oblivious either, he notes what other people wear, whether in person, on the TV, etc, and he uses that as a general guide as well to keep track of what is truly out of fashion — just as most people do without thinking.

If he is leaving the lighthouse, he will put a little more effort in, try to make himself look smart. He’ll wear a simple shirt under a jumper or cardigan, switch out his boots for nicer shoes, and so on.

He’s also influenced by the clothes he liked to wear in the past, and yes, many of his clothes are old, especially things like coats, but he takes as good care of them as he can. He doesn’t repair them himself, but there is a seamstress down in the village whom he will visit. Usually she’s dealing with baby clothes or bridesmaid dresses, so she enjoys it when he comes by with some odd request.

Eli doesn’t buy clothes often at all — and in fact, the process and idea of going out for that purpose slightly intimidates him. These days most of his clothes are thrifted from such tiny little charity shops that don’t even have a changing room to try them on. Honestly, he kind of prefers it that way. Because of this, his clothes remain outdated, sometimes he looks a bit like he fell out of the 80s or 90s.

Claudia occasionally brings Eli clothing from her travels, but it’s not a habit. She likes the Italian style. They are often finely made, and she will say that they suit him, but he honestly feels uncomfortable in them. She will ask him to try them on to show her, and usually he will find little reason not to oblige, simply because they were a gift. Still, more often than not they will stay hidden in some drawer somewhere gathering mothballs. Out of sight, out of mind.

#nezumivc103221 #( ask. )#( hc. )#( wardrobe. )#sigh. you just had to ask #[drops my fucking essay] ANYWAY #he’s giving somewhere between ‘vintage Barbour’ and ‘fisherman’ if that makes any fucking sense lmao #honestly this may just be me showcasing my love for the shetland sweater bc they are a beautiful traditional craft #also he hates the clothes from claudia. he's too polite to say it #he’s sitting there straightbacked in a velvet dinner jacket like Lord Get Me Out Of This Thing

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straightbacked · 1 year

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Download The Guide Here

What Fruits And Vegetables Are Good For Dogs

As a dog owner, you want to ensure your furry friend receives a healthy and balanced diet. Fruits and vegetables can be a great addition to your dog's diet, but not all are safe. This blog post will discuss which fruits and vegetables are good and bad for dogs.

Good Fruits and Vegetables for Dogs:

Blueberries: Rich in antioxidants, blueberries are great for dogs. They also have anti-inflammatory properties.

Carrots: Carrots are high in fiber and vitamin A, which helps to promote good vision and a healthy coat.

Green Beans: Green beans are low in calories and high fiber, making them a snack for dogs that need to lose weight.

Apples: Apples are a great source of vitamin C and fiber. They also help to clean your dog's teeth.

Pumpkin: Pumpkin is high in fiber and helps to promote good digestion in dogs.

Spinach: Spinach is rich in iron, calcium, and other essential vitamins and minerals for a dog's health.

Bad Fruits and Vegetables for Dogs:

Grapes and Raisins: Grapes and raisins can cause kidney failure in dogs, so avoid them at all costs.

Avocado: Avocados contain a substance called persin, which can cause vomiting and diarrhea in dogs.

Onions and Garlic: Onions and garlic contain compounds that can cause anemia in dogs if consumed in large quantities.

Citrus Fruits: Citrus fruits such as lemons, limes, and grapefruit contain citric acid, which irritates a dog's digestive system.

Mushrooms: Mushrooms are toxic to dogs and can cause symptoms from vomiting and diarrhea to liver damage.

Conclusion:

Incorporating fruits and vegetables into your dog's diet can be a great way to promote their health and well-being. However, be mindful of what you're feeding them. Stick to safe options such as blueberries, carrots, and pumpkins, and avoid toxic foods like grapes and onions. If you're unsure whether a particular fruit or vegetable is safe for your dog to eat, refer to the guide. Or consult with your veterinarian.

Click Here to Download Guide

#straightbacked #german shepherd #germanshepherddogs #fruitbadfordogs #vegetablesbadfordogs

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lindomtsweni · 2 years

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Finally got my hair braided😄😄.... #newhairstyle #cornrows #straightback https://www.instagram.com/p/ClYzm3kMiF3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#newhairstyle #cornrows #straightback

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verana115 · 7 months

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Hiking a trans pride flag up 131 mountains in the Northern Appalachians, part 41: Piermont!!!

Major - 41h/131:

Anna - 41f/131:

Rowe - 41a/131:

Mack - 41b/131:

Klem - 41c/131:

Rand - 41d/131:

Quarry - 41e/131:

Straightback - 41g/131:

Piermont - 41/131 (not my most flattering pic lmao):

More nature photos!!!

Thanks for reading this far :)

#lol flag time #trans #trans pride #queer #queer pride #pride #pride flag #lgbtq #lgbtq pride #lgbt pride #transgender #transgender pride #hiking #peakbagging #nature #blahaj

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desert--mouse · 23 days

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prompt from @dreamlandcreations: what if paul sees what could have been if he was born a girl and he falls in love with feyd who is supposed to be his husband... how would paul try to get feyd in this life?

The dream left him unsettled. Paul Atreides jolted awake, mind still waxy and pliable after too much time spent in the sand and a belly full of spiced liquor. Was it even a dream? It felt like a vision, cleaving away from whimsy and falling squarely into an alternate timeline. Into a life when he had been born as the Bene Gesserit intended: daughterhood, perfected. He blinked blearily at the window. Past the savannah curtain, dunes crested the horizon. Arrakeen slept. Chani Kynes slept too, her chest rising and falling as she breathed beside him.

Paul returned to the vision, fingering through it like a tapestry with many pockets. In it he was young and foolhardy, bare feet smacking slippery moss in an orchard on Caladan, running from pale hands that snatched for his wrists. A mouthful of briny wind was spat from the sea. The person behind him was the echo of someone he’d seen before in this life. Feyd-Rautha grabbed his waist and spun him around, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, clumsily missing the place he’d intended to land. In the dream Paul was fifteen at first. Time swiveled out of focus and he was seventeen, panting hard against Feyd’s chin as they sparred or fought or fucked in the training chamber. And then he was eighteen and dressed in white. The gown was beautiful. It reminded him of his mother. Feyd-Rautha wore black. He was crisply dressed and standing straightbacked at the end of a long aisle dusted in petals.

In that vision, somewhere on a timeline near enough to this one to make itself known, Paul Atreides had married Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. He gulped. His throat went dry and his palms grew sweaty. Yesterday Feyd-Rautha had been detained by Fedaykin patrolling a slot canyon in the north. He was being kept in a cell in the bowels of the citadel on Arrakeen. It wasn’t the first time Paul had questioned his visions, but it was the first time he’d slipped out of bed in the dead of night to prove one of them wrong. He dressed slowly and silently, paying close attention to Chani’s restful sleep. Once his trousers were tightened, he tied his leather crysknife sheath around his waist and left their bedchamber, sneaking through each hall until he came to stand before Feyd-Rautha’s intimate prison. He shouldn’t go in. He knew that already. But the dream kept doubling behind his eyelids, daring him to push through the door and test destiny. Or entertain the idea of a different one manifesting in this lifetime, altering the course of Lisan al-Gaib.

Paul unlocked the chamber and stepped inside. The darkness didn’t allow for much, but he saw the outline of Feyd-Rautha’s lean form seated on the edge of a plain mattress, elbows propped on his thighs, hands dangling in front of him. He stared at Paul with lazy hatred.

“Muad’Dib,” Feyd-Rautha rasped, laughing deep in his throat. The bandages around his torso were dark in the middle. Blood from the wound he’d sustained from the Fedaykin must’ve leaked through. “I’m honored.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Paul said.

“Would’ve preferred a warrior’s death.”

“I came alone.”

“I can see that, cousin.”

Paul searched for something more to say. He came up empty, still fixated on the vision. “Have you ever dreamed of me, Harkonnen?”

Feyd-Rautha lifted his face. His smile was as small as it had been with Paul’s crysknife buried in his chest, another vision come to fruition in another life. There was no lamp in the small inlet where Feyd was being held. Light from a glow globe in the hall cast a glimmer on his face and made the line of his nose and his cupid’s bow sharper. In the dream, Paul had found him extraordinary. Standing there, staring at him, Paul understood why.

“I dreamed my own death once,” Feyd-Rautha said. He shrugged and stood. His torso was bare except for the cloth bandages. Black trousers fell low on his waist. “I didn’t know it was you holding the blade until yesterday when I saw the great Lisan al-Gaib for the first time. But here I am, alive.”

“I asked if you’d dreamed of me,” Paul said sternly. “Have you or not?”

“Maybe.” His wolfish smile grew. Feyd stepped forward, approaching with slow steps. He listed his head and his naked brow furrowed. “Why do you ask, Atreides?”

Paul should’ve expected that question. His mind was still fuzzy from the spice liquor, his movements slow. When Feyd aimed a strike at his arm, Paul narrowly deflected. They jostled for a brief moment. Paul tried to sweep out his legs, Feyd dodged. Feyd-Rautha attempted to catch Paul’s jaw with his fist, Paul grabbed his wrist and spun him, pinning Feyd roughly to the stone wall.

Paul jammed his crysknife underneath Feyd’s chin. “Because in another life, you were given to me.” Paul gritted the confession between his clenched teeth. He pressed the edge of Shai Hulud’s fang to Feyd’s milky throat. “You were mine.”

“Is that right?” Feyd laughed, craning away from the crysknife.

“We were married, Feyd,” Paul snapped.

Feyd-Rautha’s expression turned from coy to curious. “You’re a bit feisty for my tastes, Atreides — ”

Paul inhaled forcefully. “And you’re a bit cocky for mine.”

“And yet here we are.” Feyd’s crooked smile curved. He tipped his face toward Paul’s, allowing the crysknife to dent his flesh, then split it, leaking red onto the sacred weapon. Their lips faintly touched. “Here we are.”

#dune #paul atreides #feydpaul #feyd rautha #feyd x paul #paulfeyd #dune fanfiction #feydpaul filet #dune ficlet #feydpaul prompt #this was a fun one #it's not super canon but it's kinda close

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thekingofwinterblog · 6 months

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So just one visual detail about Soul Eater I love and i wonder how many others ever noticed, is the way the series frames Maka and Crona visually.

Crona is way, way taller than Maka.

And even moreso when sitting down, with Chrona's jaw almost reached the height of the top of Maka's head.

But you probably don't remember it that way, and there is a very specific reason for that.

And the reason is because after Crona's heelturn, the show very speciffically frames their shots so where Maka almost always looks like the stronger of the two of them, despite being way smaller.

Crona is very often standing at an angle hunched forward, especially when sitting. Maka by contrast usually stands straightbacked in her full height.

It uses this visual dynamic to showcase and reinforce the idea that Crona is much, much more fragile than Maka... But also that Crona always looks to Maka as a source of strength and support, while Maka is happy being that support.

Even in situations where the Height is shown very, very clearly, Crona always looks to Maka, rather than it feeling like Crona is looking downwards at her.

This framing is so strong that even when Maka is lying on her back paralyzed, and Crona stands over her, it still doesn't give a feeling of Crona looking down at her, but as someone looking to her for approval.

Of course this is just the normal shots that are somewhat easy to miss when not looking for it.

There is also the important stuff, where the show uses this visual contrast and dynamic to great effect.

When Maka finds Crona in the pit, she is framed as big, standing over Crona looking down, because she is the powerful one here, not Crona.

And when we flip around to line more up with Crona's persepctive, though she suddenly becomes smaller in the shot, she still has all the high-ground, Maka is still standing above, looking down, while Crona can't even muster up the courage to look her in the eyes, furthering emphasizing how strong Maka seems in Crona's eyes.

It emphasizes just how weak Crona feels when compared to Maka, who Crona sees as a pillar of strength and bravery.

And when Maka goes down in the pit she grabs Crona by the neck and lifts, literarily holding Crona up through her owns strength while telling Crona to stop giving in to selfhatred and loathing.

And that doesnt change for the entire scene.

Crona doesn't muster the strength to stand, and Maka has to keep Crona standing, first with a closed fist, then two hands around the arms while shaking and asking for confirmation that it was medusa, then in a supporting hug.

Maka is straightbacked and strong, while Crona has to literarily lean on her for support, showcasing Maka's strength and how Crona in turn relies and draws courage from that strength.

And following up on that, every single time when Crona is able to stand up tall, straightbacked and... Well not not exactly proud, but distinctly not looking fragile, are all moments related to doing something brave in relations to Maka.

Standing up to protect her from Giriko, having the bravery to go with her and the rest of the crew to the party, going to confess everything to Shinigami with all the potential consequences that might entail, or my favorite, just standing tall while looking to her final battle with Asura, after having finally grown enough as a person to stand up to Medusa, and taking the Vector blade for Maka.

It's a very understated bit, but when you notice it, it's kinda amazing just how different Crona looks in this moment cimpared to the usual look.

On paper, Crona should look fragile and weak, having just taken a massive wound so the arm is clutching the recently closed injury, a huge, oversized coat over the shoulders, and Marie's hand supporting on Crona's shoulder.

Crona should look weak, but that's not the case.

Crona in this moment actually looks suprisingly powerful, with a straight spine and with the spindly physique hidden by the coat, so you instead focus on the wide shoulders.

In other words, very much like how Maka is able to channel an aura of strength despite a very unimpressive physique and height.

#soul eater anime #soul eater #maka albarn #crona gorgon #meta #camera #perspective

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s0lam33y · 9 months

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into you repost!

You stare back at the paper in front of you, suppressing a gulp when you look at the equations.You watch Riri scribble at the speed of light, somehow making it to the end of the paper before everyone else does. As she always does, She gets out of her seat and hands the paper over to your shocked professor. She’s smart as shit and everyone knows it, guys talk shit because she’s so humble about it, girls talk shit because they’re jealous. But you’ve always wondered how in the ever-living fuck, she always turns shit in so fast. She doesn’t show up to class everyday and somehow is the first to turn her shit in.

Lately, you’ve had so much difficulty focusing on class, so much so that you don’t even know what fucking unit this is.

You rest your head in your palm as Riri sits back next to you, she says nothing as always. She’s always scowling at someone or silently glaring. You’ve never heard her speak a word, ever. You never see her at parties or community events. She doesn’t have a group that she hangs out with and if she does, you’ve never seen em.

You look at the jumble of words in front of you, racking your brain and praying that an answer comes up in your head. You feel something graze your thigh and you slowly look down to see a dimmed phone screen with a list of the answers to this exam. You look at Riri just to see her totally unfazed, leaned back and her eyes low so she doesn’t create any suspicion. She momentarily looks at you and then back at the phone.

When you got your grade back, you saw a 100. The first 100 of the semester.

…

Riri’s last time seeing you was in class 2 days ago, she hasn’t been coming to class since. You expected it but it still sucks. The two of you never speak at all but you’ve been meaning to thank her for her help. Your grade boosted up from a C minus to a C. It isn’t much but now you don’t need to be worried about failing.

You flip on your stomach in your dorm room, having been here for hours. It’s a weekend and you have no classes so you’ve spent the entire morning, cleaning up and chilling. Your roommate is on her side of the room, laying beneath the covers and scrolling through her phone.

“Yo, Kiyah,” You mutter, receiving only part of her attention as she continues to scroll on her phone.

“Mhm?”

“You know Riri Williams?” You question as she turns her phone off and fluffs up her pillow.

“Nah,” She replies while laying comfortably, her eyes on you as she expects some sort of drama or entertainment.

“Short, straightbacks, wears sweats most of the time, track team, she don’t be here often,” You describe and her eyes light up.

“Yeah, yeah, She seems like a real bitch but she’s fine as hell, why? You got a lil crush on her or sum?”

You roll your eyes at her antics. There’s no way you have a crush on someone you just met.

“Nah, Kiyah, She in my class, I was just wondering who she is, that’s all,” You say.

“She’s real smart, I heard she the top student in here, I ain’t neva talked to her,”

Of course, she’s the top student. The information is vague, not enough for you.

“You know where her dorm is?”

You get no answer and you realize that Kiyah’s fallen asleep. Looks like you’ll have to do some work and try to find her yourself.

…

You walk into your differential equations class just to find the person you were looking for. She’s leaned back in her seat, dressed in black nike tech from head to toe. Her hair isn’t in her signature straight backs, instead a slicked back bun to showcase her pretty face.

You take your seat next to her, offering a small smile.

“Thanks for the other day,” You thank her. Her face doesn’t budge all she does is nod it off. Your curiosity is going to kill you. Before you can ask your question, a student above the both of you speaks.

“Riri, Think you could do my next assignment for me?” The student says, grinning as he does. She ignores him, acting like he’s not there but damn, he’s persistent.

“I mean, You could definitely tutor me, My grade is-”

“Ion give a fuck ‘bout your grade, a’ight? Study your shit,” She snaps, her voice low so she doesn’t bring attention but it’s enough for him to shut up and lean back in your seat. It takes you by surprise, she was so willing to help you but he just got an earful. It’s the first time you hear Riri Williams speak and for now it’s the last time once your professor begins to lecture.

…

Students pour from every which way from class and into the hallway. You wait for Riri by the door and once she walks out, you call her name.

“Riri,” You say, gauging her reaction as she turns around. She still got that stone face.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, There’s a football game soon, It’s jersey night, theme,” You trail. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her sweats.

“Sure,” Is all she says. You want to ask her for details, will she meet you there? Did she want to maybe hang out before? How will she find you in the crowd. But you don’t want to push your luck so you take her answer and leave.

…

Everyone’s voices overlap in the crowd as MIT scores once again. Kiyah was next to you seconds ago but you’ve lost her. You can see the game well as you’re close to the front. Your legs are sore from standing up for so long, it’s all hot and muggy. Your laid edges are long gone. The game started 10 minutes ago and still no Riri. You look to the side in search of your purse only to see Riri next to you.

She’s only in a Chicago Bulls Jersey and loose fitting jeans.

“Hey,” You greet her, noticing the two cups in her hand. Her eyes glide over our outfit which is just a white tee and some shorts.

“How you gon’ invite me to a jerseys themed game and not wear a jersey?” She asks and for the first time you see a small smirk on her face. She slides you the drink, it’s just water and you appreciate it because of the heat.

“I didn’t have shit in my wardrobe!” You laugh while she stares ahead to watch the game. Her glossed lips stain the plastic cup and the words out of her glossed lips make your mind go blank.

“Coulda borrowed one of mine.”

#black panther #riri williams #riri x reader #dominique thorne #Riri williams x reader #ironheart x reader #ironheart

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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🔪: which brother would you stab?

🐈‍⬛: how long did it take you to adjust?

🖤: which of the sins do you align with?

So this was for an oc ask set and as it turns out I don't know how to answer "in-character" so take this little fic instead

"So... why are we doing this again?"

Mephisto gives a sigh, dragging out his frustration from deep within his chest and letting it out in a rush of air. He's almost sure the human is doing it on purpose - he wouldn't put it past anyone from that family.

"For the fifth time," he says strained, eyeing the way they sit straightbacked on their chair, knees pressed together and hands on them. He has never seen them sit like that before, he's almost sure it's meant to be mocking. "The student body wants to know more about the exchange students. You - for some unknown reason - have caught a lot of eyes. And as RAD's primary source of news it's our duty - my duty - to expose you."

"Ex...pose?"

"Interview."

"R...ight, okay... so? The questions are -"

"What were sent in by the students. Yes. Like I told you before. Five times now."

"Right. No. I heard you."

"Then why did y- Nevermind. Let's start. What's your name?"

"You know my name."

"For the record, what's your name."

They give a long sigh of their own as they slouch into the chair and stretch out their long legs. "Eliza Ramskin."

"Okay and Eliza is short for?"

"A-Lizard."

He blinks at them, takes a moment to look at their blank deadpan face. "That can't be right."

"Sure it is," they say with a nonchalant shrug.

"Then why is 'Eliza' spelt with an E?"

"Artistic choice."

"That's-"

"Do you want to see my legal documents?"

"...No. Let's just move on. What's your age and official position here?"

"Twenty-five. Exchange student turned council member."

And he can't stop the way his face wrinkles in distate at that - what was Lord Diavolo even thinking, it was bad enough with those Fallen Angels but a human. And it must show, if the way their mouth stretches in a smile that is nothing but smug is any indication. And that's disregarding the way large honey-brown eyes seem to light up with almost sadistic glee.

"Twenty-five is a bit young isn't it?"

"It might seem that way when one hasn't been able to make council member for hundreds? thousands? of years."

He wants to wring their neck.

They smile sweetly back at him.

"The questions?" He asks through a smile that is more of a grimace.

"The questions." They say through a smile that shows too many teeth.

"Which," he starts with his most composed professional voice, because he hadn't been lying - this was official, "of the other Council members would you stab?"

"There's no way that's on there."

"It is."

"There's no way-"

He flips the paper around.

They lean in and squint at it, the action scrunches up their little upturned nose and squishes all their numerous freckles together. He follows the path they make all across their face and down their neck into their open shirt -

"Huh," they say, leaning back. "Why's it written in there twice."

His face burns. "More than one student had the same question."

"You're not trying to bag me for treason are you?"

"If I was, it wouldn't be such a meager attempt. I know you are used to the low quality messes of the rest of our esteemed Student Council, but rest assured, one such as I, would never lower myself as to falsify evidence and bring into question the integrity of -"

"Lucifer."

"What?"

"I'd stab Lucifer."

"...just like that?"

"Yeah. It wasn't a hard choice."

"But... you seem," had he misjudged them this whole time? Could there be some sort of common ground they could bond over? Someone he could look to for inside information on whatever plans Lucifer had? "close?"

"We are," they say with a shrug, blowing at their bangs and only managing to displace the chocolate brown hair enough for the long scar bisecting their thick left brow to be visible.

"But you'd stab him? If given the chance? With no more thought put into it?"

"Sure," they say with another shrug.

"And are you worried about what he might say when this interview comes out? I won't censor the truth for you."

They frown lightly as if they are only now realising the severity of what they had carelessly revealed. He might not have gone into this expecting to uncover treason and he may not like the position Lucifer fulfills in Diavolo's life but he still can't imagine that either Diavolo or Lucifer would be pleased by this revelation from their dear little huma-

"Yes?" Lucifer's deep voice comes over the speaker of the human's D.D.D. held aloft in their hand.

They stare blankly straight at Mephisto as they say, "Out of everyone in the Council I would stab you. Hypothetically."

"I know." Lucifer says without missing a beat.

"Neat."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, I'm doing an interview."

"Ah, Hello Mephisto - "

Mephisto scowls at the device, "Lucifer, have you been ignoring my calls? We need to discuss the policy abo-"

"I lost my D.D.D."

"You're speaking on-"

"And it seems I'm entering a tunnel - SHHHPPFFZZZ - I will see you at dinner, Eliza."

"See ya."

The D.D.D. goes silent.

"Maybe he fell into the underground labyrinth that runs below the city," the human says placatingly.

"Second question," Mephisto grits out, "how long did it take you to adjust to your life in the Devildom?"

Eliza shifts, face growing oddly serious. "Not long," they say after a moment that stretches past what Mephisto was expecting.

"And why's that?"

They shift again, scratching one of their bright mismatched sneakers against the floor. "I've always been good at adapting to new situations. Moved around so much as a kid - between so many different places and families - guess it became the norm. And." They stop frowning and finally look up to meet his eyes. Their usually bright eyes are dull, he could almost mistake them for being bored. "And I've got nothing up there waiting for me. So, so it was easier to settle down here. Finally find a place where I just...fit. ...Sorry, is that okay?"

"Yes," he clears his throat, "Yes. Third question?"

"Sure, hit me."

"What."

"Shoot?"

"What?"

"What's the question, Mephisto?"

"Which of the Sins do you align with?"

"Oh... which Sin do you think I align with?"

"Just... answer the question so we may be done with this."

"That doesn't seem very professional."

"Ramskin."

"Probably with Beel."

"Beelzebub? Gluttony?"

They stretch, long and languid, and he sees the shift of muscle under their baggy uniform, he knows for a fact there's unexpected strength to be found in them.

He remembers when they'd first come here to the Devildom, over three years ago, thin and underweight, drowning in an oversized uniform, always stuck to Mammon's side even as they bickered. They had never cowered, even back then, had always pushed back even with the way they hunched into themself under layers of clothing.

But there had also been so much...less of them.

No matter how bright their soul had seemed, they themself had seemed a spectre - distant and quiet unless spoken to.

He had watched, as they slowly came out of their shell. They had changed, physically as well. They'd never be able to completely shake that scrappy quality they had about them, he thinks, but they no longer look underfed. Their shoulders are broad and relaxed, thighs thick and muscles coiled. They're comfortable with themself and the world they live in, they have been for years now. They're settled in a way that only people who know they're a threat can be in the Devildom.

It's a little startling to realise and he's never quite sure what to make of them. But he can understand where the intrigue of the other students may come from.

They're nodding, their short, floppy hair bouncing around.

"Yeah. Food's good. I mean it's a comfort isn't it? Being able to eat whatever you want whenever you want. And having your favourites at hand. And sharing food is a way to show people you care. Making something for someone because you thought they'd enjoy it - there's no better way to show you care. And with enough food you have enough energy to do whatever you want to. So food. Can't get enough of the stuff."

They're a busy person. Always on their feet, always running around, always tangeld in some project or another, with still enough energy to spare to be a general menace along with the rest of their family. So yes, he can understand why they may value whatever excess energy they can gain.

Offhandedly he wondered what kind of life Eliza Ramskin lived before they had come here.

He looks down at the script absently and perks up at the next question. "What do you think of Lord Diavolo?" He asks with a razor sharp focus.

They straighten as well, meeting his eyes. They know. They have to know, just how important this question is.

"I think he's admirable," they say finally, "strong, brave. I think what he's doing, his vision, I think that's what the world needs. And I know there are many here in the Devildom who don't agree with him - not the civilians but," they look at him steadily, their eyes sharp. "the nobility, those worried his changes might affect their status quo. And yet, he continues to push against them and work towards where we can all understand each other, where it won't matter what our species is, where we'd just be people - equals. Where we can share our culture and our food and not worry about a war breaking out at the smallest misstep. He cares about his people, he wants what's best for them, a world where their blood won't have to be spilt to satisfy a feud no one even knows the reason of. He doesn't always do the right thing, even you know that. But he's been learning to listen to the counsel of others, he's growing, changing just like we all are. He's going to be a great king, no matter what the House of Lords believes."

He watches them quietly, while they stare back, not quite glaring, but shoulders squared and ready for a fight.

He doesn't want to think about what they said, not right now. He'll have to listen to it again, to their strong, steady voice thick with conviction and just daring him to disagree. But now, "You're quite blunt," he says shuffling his papers.

They blink, deflating. "I'm a bad liar."

"One virtue at least."

"I have many virtues," they don't quite snap but they aren't as collected as they usually are. The topic had riled them up it seems.

He thinks about that lanky, hungry human, quiet but stubborn. He thinks about shifting families and places and he thinks about I've got nothing up there waiting for me. He thinks of their smile, bright and beaming and mischevious, as they press in close with the rest of the Council as they all loudly argue with each other over another inane topic.

He wonders how much of the human's life depends on the success of Lord Diavolo's program. How much they're willing to fight and sacrifice to selfishly cling on to the threads of balance just so they can keep their happily ever after. He sees the fire in their eyes, the hunger, the Greed.

Anything, he knows, and everything. Nothing would be too much for them as long as they got to keep their home.

Balance, peace, Diavolo's dream. Those would be the ideal outcomes. But not the only ones they'd be willing to settle with if it meant their family stayed together and safe.

He thinks about his own brother's big eyes and smiling face and he thinks he understands them - even if just a little. He wonders if their master knows just how well his pupil fits in with the Sins.

"Last question," he says instead of asking them.

"Really?"

"For now, at least."

They nod and settle back, pulling their legs up to sit crisscross on the chair. He frowns at where their shoe meets the cushion and almost asks whether Lucifer never taught them any manners but instead he takes a breath - just one more question, they're nearly done.

"Have you ever gotten detention?" He asks.

They stare at him.

"Nooooo," they say at length, "never."

"You're right, you're a terrible liar."

They cackle.

"And we're done," he says with more than a little relief, using his cane to stand up and wincing at the sharp pain that zips up his leg from his knee.

The human grimaces in sympathy, pushing up and stretching out their own arms and legs, pulling their body up onto their toes until their back cracks and they settle back onto their heels.

He can see the compression braces peeking out from the rolled up sleeves on both of Eliza's arms. Knows there are similar ones on their legs, hidden behind their uniform trousers.

He knows that unlike his own, more or less, constant pain, Eliza's ebbs and flows. That there are some days that are better for them, days on end where the braces don't make an appearance, and there are some where a week will go by without their presence in RAD. Days where the lines on Lucifer's face are tighter and Mammon stays just as missing for the duration of their leave.

Days where the rest of the Sins are quiet, walking on eggshells, even around each other.

Days where Belphegor stays glued to Beelzebub's side, even more hunched into himself than the usual.

He knows the braces weren't always a part of them. Knows Eliza spent most of their first year without them. He wonders if it was an accident like his or - he watches as they come back, Mammon at their side like an overprotective guard dog, how it takes Belphegor days before he can meet their eyes again - if it was something else.

In the present day, they hop on their feet a bit to get movement back into their legs and move forward to shake his hand.

His grasps it on instinct more than anything else. Their skin is just a few shades lighter than his own, their palm calloused but soft and warm where his is smooth. Their nails are painted black and white alternatively, the top layer cracked and chipped to show a smooth rainbow coat underneath. Their grip is firm, their hand so much smaller than his.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mephistopheles." They give his hand a hearty shake.

"Get out of my office."

"Roger," they say with a sloppy salute before they're strolling away.

He hears Mammon's grumbling from beyond the door when they open it.

And then they shut it.

And all is blissfully quiet again.

He should really speak to Lucifer about their manners before he has to meet with them again, and possibly about the manners of the rest of that family as well, just to be on the safe side.

But for now at least, Mephisto is finally free of the presence of one Eliza Ramskin.

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ashesandhackles · 10 months

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HP re-read: Goblet of Fire (Part 3)

Chapter 31,32, 33, 35,36,37

Harry hearing the trial is important because it deepens the seed in him for wanting to finish the war. He thinks about how it was Voldemort who had ripped Neville's parents away, and why BCJ went to Azkaban with his mother fainting and his father asking him to rot. His world has expanded.

Ron being a bb and being like how the extra jinxes they learnt is good training for them being Aurors. I love how childlike his assumption is that this is what the three of them will end up doing. Always the three of them against the world. <3

ooh Harry's initial shield charm is weak. Set up for when it gets stronger later in the series - it's one of the spells he uses in the final battle, one that protects Molly from Voldemort's wrath.

Sirius sending daily owls and then giving Harry a muddy paw print as a good luck card. I LOVE HIM.

Fudge apparently looking stern next to Maxime, and her eyes being "rather red" while Hagrid kept glancing at her from along the table. What a subtle way of telling us what happened here.

Cedric raising his wand to shower red sparks for Krum after being tortured by him. This is a good moment, because Cedric doesn't know Krum is under the Imperius, and he could have just let Harry do it. But he also raises his wand along with Harry, right after saying Krum would deserve being eaten by a passing Skrewt. Nice character work.

Harry politely asking the sphinx to move <3

the chapter really sets up its imagery: a dark overgrown graveyard, a church, a yew tree, an outline of an old house on the hillside. The yew, in particular, because its associated with Voldemort. (we also see baby! Voldemort being carried into this setting by Peter)

there is also something about Voldemort's father's house overlooking the rebirth at the graveyard - the above/below positioning of it all. Such a strong image.

"blank and expressionless as windows of a deserted house": as we note earlier, Avada Kedavra is a spell that releases the soul from its container. So this specific imagery of a deserted house - a body that no longer houses its soul is very eerie, very effective.

every image in this chapter is horrifying: Harry tied to Tom Snr's headstone, baby!Voldemort at his feet, Nagini circling the headstone.

Interesting what was Voldemort's understanding of why his father left his mother: "He didn't like magic, my father", "the fool who gave me his name - Tom Riddle". We know from HBP that he pieces together a story from Morfin's account of what happened - and he thinks it's his father who gave him the "ordinary" name. Even with Voldemort's hatred for his father, it is him Voldemort assumes an active role for, and not his mother. His negative feelings are directed against his father.

"may your loyalty never waver again Wormtail": Voldemort does gift giving and rewards with implied threats. XD

"one who I believe has left me forever, he will be killed of course" : Snape. I would kill for a conversation between Snape and Voldemort, when Snape comes in two hours late.

Peter convinces Bertha for a night time stroll. Where is Peter's adventures in Albania before he returns to Voldemort story? He has been quite busy.

Voldemort Villain monologues the entire chapter. He is so overt with his immortality hints that I am surprised baby Reg is one who catches on. Speaks to his and Sirius' upbringing a bit.

"and now, you face me like a man, straightbacked and proud" : the crumbs we get of James Potter's characterisation and how Harry uses this taunt later to empower himself to fight. ("he was going to die upright like his father")

James arms Harry with knowledge of what he must do, whereas Lily's role is more to offer him comfort (its the nature of the books. Lily gains a more stronger role in last 2 books, whereas the first 5, James is central to Harry's development)

Harry leaps over the cup (his means of escape) to get to Cedric's body first - all this with a broken leg. What a pure boy. It is not only the fact that Cedric asked him to, but because he has also witnessed the desecration of a dead body in the ritual. He recognises it as a violation.

BCJ's father wound pouring out of his monologue, and the need Voldemort fulfills or one BCJ hopes he would fulfill is that he will be closer than a son, that he will be singular, noteworthy and special among Death Eaters in a way he wasn't to his own father.

@dragonlordette talked about how BCJ! Moody was in tune with people's feelings and she is right: the careful way he manipulated Cedric, Dobby, and planted a book with Neville well in advance shows someone who watches, catalogues people's behaviour, so he knows which buttons to push.

Rowling planting Snape's loyalties here: she emphasises Snape's face in BCJ's Foe Glass both when three of them burst the door open and once again when he enters to survey the room.

Crouch's mother's love as a destructive force that enabled the rise of Voldemort when she broke her son out and took his place in Azkaban. (love as destructive force is a theme that series plays with both in good way and bad way - and more overtly in HBP)

I love how seamlessly Dumbles, McGonagall and Snape work together. When McGonagall is losing it over the Dementor's Kiss, Snape sarcastically explains what Fudge has done (" he seems to feel his personal safety was in question" Imao)

Sirius spends all year obsessing over a plot in the tournament and that someone is out to get Harry, and he sees Harry in this state, his suspicions are confirmed in worst possible way. His hand shakes when he helps Harry into a chair .

Harry drawing comfort from Fawkes. <3

Sirius, noticing how Harry was avoiding Dumbles eyes, harshly tells Dumbledore that Harry needs sleep <3

the "gleam of triumph" in Dumbles eyes that set off so many fan forums when GOF first came out.

Sirius gets so upset when Harry mentions how James asked him to escape, so for the first time in the whole meeting, his face is in his hands. (instead of Harry's shoulder) In Sirius' eyes, he failed to protect Harry and James' ghost saves Harry instead. It is a reminder of his failure.

also hilarious that no one besides Madam Pomfrey questions the presence of an emotional support dog. (also like the best emotional support dog in question, Sirius growls at Fudge for insinuating Harry's liar. I would love to hear the cussing out Sirius is giving him)

Snape makes a "sudden movement" when Lucius' name is mentioned. Snape's feelings for the Malfoy family, despite actively working against them, is complicated.

also how throughout the altercation between Dumbles and Fudge, Mrs Weasley had to keep a hand on Harry's shoulder to prevent him from rising.

Another person who has had enough of Fudge in the scene is Snape. Snape showing his Dark Mark to the Minister of Magic is legitimately one of my favourite moments of him in the series. It's a stand he is making - and in rereads, his loyalty and commitment is clear as day.

Harry wants Sirius to stay. I love that Harry actually asks for what he needs when it comes to Sirius. BB :heart:

"He had no memory of being hugged like this, as though by a mother" AHHHHHHH.

ah Cho crying when they raise a toast to Cedric upsets Harry. He looks down in response :(

Impassive face Hermione = Hermione who has just been kissed goodbye by Krum. (also that Harry isn't surprised when Ginny later reveals that they did indeed kiss)

Ron asking for Krum's autograph makes Hermione smile, and him assuring Fleur her english is good enough already makes her scowl The range of emotions she experiences in this scene.

Harry asks the twins to buy a different set of dress robes for Ron and say they are from them. Harry learns how to be careful and sensitive with Ron's feelings. What a sweetheart.

#hp reread #harry james potter #sirius black #barty crouch jnr #severus snape #goblet of fire #lord voldemort

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