#all those fancy worries and honors mean nothing to someone who did anything to survive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingthrones · 5 years

Text

the northern dragon- part 6.

PART 6: REVELATION.

TAGS: @psychosupernatural , @xleviiiix , @ashtronomyyyy , @starkbelova,@5aftermidnight , @makapaka11 , @mxxkscreate-write , @scorpiosmalfoy,@harrison-shot-first , @art-flirt , @jessyballet , @vaexvictis ,@callmeconceited , @cassiopeia-barrow , @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw (feel free to shoot me a message if you’d also like to be tagged!)

DESCRIPTION: the world thought that just 2 dragons survived, that house targaryen was missing its third head. but there was another– the youngest, the final child of the mad king and queen rhaella. of course, she was almost part of the near extermination of her house. but the honorable ned stark, unable to watch a babe be murdered for crimes she did not commit, rescued her from an awful fate. instead, she grew up amongst wolves within the walls of winterfell.

NOTES: what you’ve all been waiting for!

WARNINGS: lots of violence and, of course, angst.

After the attack, it was made clear that a weapon must be carried at all times. You decided on a nicely sized dagger that you wore strapped to your calf under your dress. It was easily concealed and fairly easy to pull out quickly. It’s probably something that you should’ve always had but it was “unladylike,” but you’ve proven yourself to be no lady. From then on out, you were wary. You couldn’t look upon the faces of the men in the same way. It made you more jumpy. You told yourself, though, that it made you more vigilant. It’s just unfortunate that it had to come out of this.

When Robb returned, he made a point to visit that night. You were just about to lay down to sleep when he walked in. “Y/N...” his voice was low. You met his eyes, still sitting down on your bed and offered him a smirk. “Didn’t worry too much, did you?” He sighed, though he smirked as well as he sauntered towards you. The young wolf then crouched in front of you, gently taking your injured hands, “Stop.. tell me, how are you feeling? Really?” The seriousness in his voice caught you off guard, though it did make sense. This wasn’t nothing. That man could’ve killed your or did unspeakable things.. or both. Every ounce of your being wanted to lean forward and close the gap between you two. It was a feeling you’d had many, many times over the years but especially now. In fact, it took all the self control in your little body not to do so. “I’m fine,” you insisted.

Robb sighed and stood up then sat down next to you. “I didn’t think any of my men would do something like that...” he said. It felt like the two of you were kids again and so, acting on that feeling, you leaned your head on his shoulder for comfort. Luckily, he didn’t move yet it still made you nervous. “I’ll see to it that someone gets punished. I--” You stopped him there. Lifting your head, you looked over at him. “Please don’t. I’m fine, I promise. I’ll be more careful, I know how to defend myself. There’s too much going on for you to punish anyone because one man crossed a line.” He looked to you, looking as if he wanted to say something more but instead settled on, “Fine. Just...” Another sigh. “Talisa will be around tomorrow with supplies to properly clean these up, okay?” With that, he headed out.

Of course she was. Sure, you were grateful that someone who was clearly talented in their craft had the supplies necessary to keep the army in the best condition. All you could think about, though, was the time the two of them got to spend alone. Why else would he have brought her along to such an important meeting? Catelyn was right, he fancied her. You wished desperately not to care but you did-- by the Gods, you did. Throwing yourself onto the bed, you eventually dozed off. It wasn’t a restful slumber though, no, you couldn’t stop imagining the things that must’ve happened on that little trip. The images haunted your dreams.

Shortly after you awoke, Talisa walked in, just as Robb promised. The immediate reaction was that of anger and you hated it. She was a kind woman, someone who was helping you greatly and yet you couldn’t help but to feel anger, hate, jealousy. That familiar Targaryen fire burned within your chest. “Here, this should really help,” the dark-haired woman said with a warm, genuine smile. It made you hate yourself for the contempt you felt towards her. She was good and yet you were filled with pitiful jealousy. “Thank you, really.” The words were forced but you did your best to sound truly thankful. It’s not that you weren’t but... still. “I would say they should be fairly healed within a fortnight, just try not to be too rough on your hands until then.” Did this mean Robb would try to keep you out of whatever conflicts that would come about between now and then? You hoped not but deep down you knew these two were.. close and she would surely tell him. Indigo eyes fell upon the fresh wound dressings on your hands before looking back up at her with a smile. “I take it you’re with us for the long haul, then?” She seemed caught off by your tone, as were you. You hadn’t meant for it to come off the way it did you just couldn’t help yourself. “I just mean... you’ve decided to stay with us? We could use someone with real skills,” you quickly added, chuckling to make the air less tense. “Oh.. yes! This war is getting ugly and... I just want to help those getting caught in the middle while the high lords sit in their castles plotting away not giving a second thought to the men who will die for them.” As she went on, she sounded more and more passionate. She truly did care for the people.. it made you feel even worse about disliking her. “You’re doing good work,” you said softly before standing. “Sorry, I have some things I need to tend to. Thank you again,” you added, hurrying out of the tent to find something else to keep you busy.

Later, you ended up sitting with Catelyn, who seemed even more troubled than usual as of late. “Lady Catelyn, is there something--” She took hold of your arm, “I must speak to you. But not here, somewhere private.” So the two of you ventured into her tent where no one would dare to disturb you. You sat while she paced, not saying a word. “He’s gone mad, Y/N! He loves this woman and you know I want nothing more than for my children to be happy but..” The shock was written all over your face. Sure, you suspected it but you absolutely dreaded being right. “I fear what this will bring. He wishes to marry her. I reminded him that he made an oath to Lord Frey but he insisted that he’d understand and respect his rule, so long as he offered him another deal. But I don’t trust it. He never truly respected Ned, I don’t believe he would respect Robb just because they call him a king now.” She was right. If this went through, this could change everything. This could spell disaster for their cause.

“Do you think he’ll truly go through with this?” you questioned softly. “Yes, he intends to do so as soon as possible and tell him only after the fact. I believe he plans to offer my brother in his place but I just...” You can see that her thoughts are racing. “I guess all we can do is hope that Lord Frey will accept his offer, then. We both know just how stubborn Robb is. If he loves this woman...” You have to swallow the lump in your throat and pray that Catelyn cannot see the devastation written on your face. “Then I hope she is a good queen and that she is worth all of this.” The older woman sat down next to you, letting out a defeated sigh. “I suppose so.”

The next thing you knew, it was revealed that Robb has made a queen of a Volantian woman named Talisa. In his place, Edmure Tully would marry a daughter of Lord Frey’s. He was a lord of a great house, yes, but he was no king. Walder had agreed to the new deal but Catelyn still felt uneasy and confided in you with her feelings.

That night, though, you buried yourself in the furs and used them to muffle your cries. You always knew that he’d marry some beautiful lady one day but it broke your heart nonetheless. When you cried the very last of your tears, you rolled over to reveal red, puffy eyes, feeling totally exhausted. The encampment was making another move tomorrow, and a risky one at that, so you quickly went to sleep. It was important to stay on alert. You weren’t really supposed to be involved in any conflict with your injuries but when did you let anything stop you?

Another memory replayed itself in your dream that night. It wasn’t long after your fourteenth name day. “I can see it, you know,” Jon spoke up from behind you and you jumped. Turning quickly, your brow furrowed. “And just what are you talking about?” you questioned. “I’ve always been able to read you like a book,” he chuckled, walking up to stand beside you. “Are you going to tell me what you’re on about, Snow?” you sighed. His voice suddenly became more serious, “You love him.” He looked out at Robb training in the courtyard just as you had been. Your face felt hot-- even more so than usual-- and your face went red.

“Wh--What are you talking about?!” The stutter certainly didn’t help your case. “I’ve known it for years. And maybe you’ve fooled them but you can’t fool me,” his tone was lighthearted again. “He could love you, too.” You scoffed, there was not a chance. Robb Stark loving a plain and honestly unappealing no name girl? Wasn’t that a laugh. “Have you gone mad?” You tore your eyes away from the courtyard to face him. “I’m serious. The way you look at him, that’s how he used to look at you when we were younger.” There is no way that was true. Even if it was, it didn’t matter. “Shut up,” you huffed, shoving him lightly.

Early that morning, just as the sun was peaking out from behind the mountains, you rode next to Catelyn as the northern forces advanced. Half-listening to her, your eyes never left Robb as you watched him ride alongside his queen. They radiated happiness and it made your heart ache. It would make sense to just be happy that he was so happy but you couldn’t force it. All you wanted was to pour your heart out and hope that it would change things. “Y/N?” Then Catelyn snapped you out of your thoughts. “Oh! My apologies, I’m just.. tired,” you said while laughing nervously. “I understand.” The older woman offered you a kind smile, giving you some relief. You had to remind yourself that without her kindness, you would’ve been slain in the arms of your mother and that making yourself heart sick over a man who was now called king was foolish.

Once everyone was settled in, you somehow convinced yourself to go and find Robb. You caught him just before he retired to his tent. “Your Grace,” you said, playfully curtseying. He rolled his eyes and you honestly couldn’t tell if it was a joke or if he was genuinely bothered. “I just wanted to let you know I’m happy for you. Your queen.. she’s beautiful and kind.. and much better than a Frey girl, I suppose,” you chuckled. “She is, isn’t she?” There was this look of wonder in his eyes. He really loved her. And you really loved him. How tragic. You can tell he wanted to return to her but you couldn’t let him go just yet. “So what is going to happen with that, then? I imagine Lord Frey isn’t very happy.” It felt like it was the most you’ve spoken in ages. “We sent a raven as soon as everything was official explaining everything. I proposed my uncle Edmure stand in my place. We were nervous but he sent one back saying he agreed. That’s where we’re headed, didn’t you know? We should reach the twins in a week, I’d expect. Less if we pick up the pace.” It was surprising, learning that Walder Frey had actually agreed to give up the betrothal to a king and settled for someone of, frankly, much lower status. “No, uh, I didn’t,” you replied. “Well find your best dress for the wedding,” he said with a grin that made you melt. “Sleep well,” he added, brushing softly past you and into his quarters.

All the news still had your head spinning and the racing thoughts kept you awake for most of the night. You hardly got any sleep before you were forced to keep moving. That day you couldn’t help but to notice the happy couple being extra smiley. It made you wonder what that was all about, but you couldn’t let this consume your thoughts. It was always possible that Lannister forces could stage a surprise attack, much like they had on them. There were much bigger things to worry about.

Just before the week was up, you all managed to arrive at your destination. The northern forces set up camp outside of the Frey stronghold. Just as Robb had said, you were searching your trunk for your best dress and head wrap. You’d forgotten that you had thrown in one of the ones that Sansa had sewn for you: a grey color with white detailing-- Stark colors. It made your eyes tear up, wondering where she was and how she was now. You would wear it tomorrow, you’d decide, knowing that she would like that. It’d go fine with a plain, light dress that was navy blue in color.

Finally, the occasion was here. You sat there, next to Catelyn, watching the ceremony. Everyone in the northern army seemed shocked to find that the Frey girl was actually quite beautiful but no one more than Edmure himself. His nervous expression quickly transitioned into a smile, causing you to smirk to yourself. She was still a Frey, though, so it’s not like everything was suddenly all better. But everything went to plan, a cheerful feast starting up just after. The hall was bustling with conversation and music but there was still just that bit of tension in the air. You just couldn’t shake the slightly uneasy feeling in your stomach.

The happy couple were rushed off to the “bedding ceremony,” something you found ridiculous, though not surprising that this family seemed so excited for it. Catelyn placed her hand on yours as if she somehow knew that you wanted nothing more than to stand up and leave. You looked up and met her eyes, head tilting with confusion. “I don’t like that look on his face,” she whispered to you, looking directly as Walder. “I think that’s just what he looks like, my lady,” you replied with a chuckle. She sighed as she looked back at you, “I suppose.”

It was then that he spoke up and the both of you quickly turned your attention to the old man. When you looked closer, you didn’t feel very good about the look on his face either. It was then that you noticed the change in the music to something that sounded quite odd for an occasion like this. He addressed Robb and his queen, saying that he hadn’t given a gift as a congratulations for their marriage. Furrowing your brow, you looked to Catelyn who had lifted the sleeve of Lord Bolton, who was seated next to her, revealing chainmail beneath. Something was terribly wrong and things escalated when she stood and slapped him, the sound nearly echoing throughout the room. Rising to your feet, you looked around and noticed that the doors to the hall had been shut and that’s when all hell broke loose.

It started with a Frey boy relentlessly stabbing the queen in her torso. You sucked in a breath with pure shock, then a crossbow bolt ended up in Robb’s shoulder and you shrieked, as did Catelyn. Startled by the noise, you looked back at her then back to him. Everything was moving so fast, it felt impossible to even move. Another bolt was shot into his shoulder, just missing his neck. Finally, you managed to step back from the table and look around. This was a slaughter. They had rounded everyone up, made sure they were vulnerable and killed every Northman they saw. But that’s when you spotted Lord Bolton take out a dagger and while you expected he would march to the head table to defend his king, you saw him clearly ready himself to attack him instead.

There was only seconds to act and even in your panicked state, you remembered the dagger you kept strapped to your leg. Weapons obviously weren’t welcome at a wedding but putting it on had become such a routine, you didn’t even think of it and thank the Gods you didn’t. Hurriedly grabbing it out from under your dress, you took off running. It was all a blur as your legs carried you along without any thinking involved. When you finally brought yourself back into the moment, your dagger was buried in Roose Bolton’s chest.

You gasped as you stared into his wide eyes, then quickly pulled back only to bump into something. Turning quickly, you were met with the sight of a badly injured but very much alive Robb Stark. Y/N had saved the King in the North-- a no name peasant had saved a king. The loud cry of Catelyn pulled your attention away only for you to see that a Frey held a knife to her neck from behind. “Please, Y/N! GO!” she yelled just before the man finished the deed. Without a second thought, you looped your arm around Robb’s and began running. He seemed to move only out of reflex and you briefly turned your gaze to him. “What are you doing?! We need to move!” you screamed over all the noise but he said nothing, not even looking into your eyes. There was no time to argue, though, so you conjured up every bit of strength in your body and made your way to the door, busting it open but not without getting an arrow through your shoulder-- a lucky shot. The adrenaline made it nearly impossible to feel, though. Of course, there was more men and more chaos outside but you somehow managed to fight your way through. All the bloodshed and craziness was a good distraction-- it seemed that no one really noticed that the Young Wolf had escaped.

It was a miracle. Despite the ongoing massacre, you somehow managed to free Robb’s direwolf and get the two of you up onto a horse to ride away from the insanity. You rode until all of you were exhausted, going deep into the nearest wood and collapsed against a tree. It seemed to be not long before noon the next day. He still never said a word and Grey Wind whimpered as he nudged at him. His eyes were completely empty, it was almost as if he had been killed. But your number one focus was tending to his injuries. Speaking of which, you had left the arrows lodged into him, not wanting to rip them out and cause more bleeding when you had no time to patch it up.

“Are you ready? This is going to hurt..” you said as you gripped the first bolt. His eyes met yours but still he said nothing. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it quickly as to not prolong the pain. He grunted but never said a word. Wait, you didn’t have any kind of plan. This is why you were a shit medic. Panicking, you pulled at the bottom of your dress and ripped away a piece of the cloth, wrapping it around the injury. Moving onto the next time, this time prepared with the cloth. Still, he didn’t say a single word. “Robb?” you whispered, getting close to try to get some kind of response. There was nothing, though. He was broken, seemingly beyond repair. Sighing, you leaned back against the tree and did the same to your own wound-- receiving no support from him-- before passing out from exhaustion.

When you awoke, it seemed to be the middle of the night. Grey Wind laid at your feet but woke up as soon as you stirred. He immediately growled, though calmed once he realized it was just you. Looking over, there laid the defeated king. It killed you to see him this way, feeling the defeat as well. But it was important to keep moving, it was the only hope of survival, so you shook him until he finally woke. “We need to go. If I’m correct, we keep heading this way and we should be able to reach Seagard.” Robb seemed to look right through you. The frustration was beginning to boil over. “I won’t just watch you lay down and die. Now let’s go.” Still nothing as you pulled him up onto the horse, calling for Grey Wind to follow.

It continued like this for the next few days. He never said a word. You rode to the point of exhaustion and survived off nothing but water and whatever you could find that was edible. It wasn’t possible to find an inn to stay in or a shop to buy from. You didn’t know who could and couldn’t be trusted-- even seeking refuge at Seagard was a risk, maybe they had chosen to betray him as well. Hope was beginning to dwindle, as was your strength, when you finally spotted a castle in the distance. You had found it. It was a shot in the dark but you made it. You chuckled, though tears spilled down your cheeks when you saw it. Gods, please let them remain loyal. After a deep breath, you rode up to the gates where men barked out orders for you to identify yourself.

“I am Y/N and I have with me the King in the North!” There was a lot out of shouting followed by the gates opening and you took the opportunity to ride in, Grey Wind following close behind. The both of you were quickly surrounded. “My king,” they declared in unison, each one falling onto one knee. Releasing the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding, you broke into a weak smile. All of this wasn’t for nothing. You had made it.

The Mallisters saw to it that you two were properly cared for. Each of you was given a bath, fresh clothes, a meal and a warm bed. Even after everything, you found yourself unable to sleep that night. It was late and the castle was quiet as you snuck down the hall and into Robb’s room after knocking and not hearing any protest.

“Can you speak to me already?” Your tone was harsh, finally fed up with the silent treatment especially considering that he’d managed to work up the strength to speak to everyone else. He turned around slowly to look at you, “What do you want?” His voice was raspy and he sounded as tired as he looked. “I want you to say something! We made it somewhere safe because of me! I fought our way through everything to get here and you’ve barely even looked at me!” Frustrated tears spilled down your cheeks. “Do you want a thank you?” The anger in his tone never wavered as he came closer to you. “Did you ever stop to think why I never said anything? I didn’t care to make it out of there, Y/N! My wife is dead, my child is dead.” A child? You had no idea. “And my mother. What else do I have?!” His gradual raise in tone caused you to jump back, head tilted with confusion as the tears continued to flow. “You have people who are counting on you. What happened was... terrible but these people named you their king and you promised their freedom. You promised to bring your sisters home! All of that is hopeless without you. I did what I did for your mother!” And because I love you. “So you can’t just lay down and die. I won’t let you. You have me, Robb.” He seemed surprised to see you fight back so hard. There was a long silence. “Get out,” he practically growled. “Robb--” you went to protest. “I said get out,” he raised his volume slightly. Giving him one last look, you turned and walked out.

Doing your best to remain quiet as the continuous stream of tears spilled down your cheeks, you hurried to your room. This was it. The final straw. You did everything you possibly could, brought him somewhere safe. Now it was up to him now to do what was right. It was becoming quite clear what your next move should be.

CUT TO THIRD PERSON.

Sleep continued to evade him as the sky began to light up. Robb felt sick, his mind replaying all that had happened and racing with all the ways he should’ve been able to stop it. Then he felt an intense guilt. She saved him. She fought like a true warrior to save him. All the times she could’ve given up along the way, she didn’t. All of this effort and he repaid her by screaming in her face telling her that he didn’t want any of it. His grief was no excuse to treat a woman who had been there for him his whole life like that. A woman who threw her own safety to the wayside just to save him. He knew that he needed to apologize and that it couldn’t wait.

He made his way down the hall, thinking of what he could possibly say to make things better. “I’m sorry” would be first, obviously, but that certainly wasn’t enough. After hearing no protest and assuming she must’ve been asleep or in the same position he had been, he pushed the door open. As his eyes scanned the room, there was no sign of her. Her trunk still sat at the foot of the bed but she was no where to be found. Confused, he walked to a desk in the corner of the room where a candle was still burning. There sat a letter, addressed to him with ink that was still wet.

Robb,

First, I must tell you why I need to leave. I should have long before this and I suspect you will agree. My name, my true name, is Visenya II Targaryen and I am the youngest child of the Mad King.

Those first lines made him fall down into the chair, feeling weak from the shock.

...

Continued.

#game of thrones imagine #robb stark imagine #robb stark x reader #catelyn stark imagine #targaryen!reader

200 notes · View notes

hazzabeeforlou · 4 years

Text

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is.

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful.

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating.

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe.

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso.

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards.

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay.

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died.

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert.

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day.

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone.

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on.

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too.

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life.

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too.

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come.

#mine #personal #tw suicide #tw disordered eating

41 notes · View notes

hcro · 5 years

Photo

lily luna potter ;; biosheet

❝ and i will STAY UP through the night. and let’s be clear, won’t close my eyes. and i KNOW that i can survive. i’ll walk through fire to save my life. and i want it, i want my LIFE so bad. i’m doing everything i can. then another one bites the dust. it’s hard to lose a chosen one. you did not break me. i’m still fighting for p e a c e. well, i’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart, but your blade - it might be too sharp. i’m like a rubber band until you pull too hard. yeah, i may snap and i move fast but you won’t see me fall apart ‘cause i’ve got an ELASTIC HEART. ❞

basics

name

lily { lil ◦ ee } : the name lily is of old english origins, it was taken from the name of the plant having delicate, trumpet-shaped flowers regarded as a symbol of purity and perfection. the word is derived from the middle english lilie, which is from the old english and latin lilium (lily). alternatively, lily is used as a pet form of both lilian (lily) and lilith (of the night).

“people with this name have a deep inner desire to serve humanity and to give to others by sharing money, knowledge and experience, or creative and artistic ability. people with this name tend to be a powerful force to all whose lives they touch. they are capable, charismatic leaders who often undertake large endeavors with great success. they value truth, justice, and discipline, and may be quick-tempered with those who do not. if they fail to develop their potential, they may become impractical and rigid.” [ x ]

luna { loon ◦ a } : the name is directly derived from the latin luna (the moon), she was the roman mythological goddess of the moon and is equated with the greek selene. luna can be used as an astrological name for those born under the sign of cancer, which is ruled by the moon.

“people with this name have a deep inner desire for order and physical creativity, and want to be involved in conventional, safe activities. people with this name tend to be creative and excellent at expressing themselves. they are drawn to the arts, and often enjoy life immensely. they are often the center of attention, and enjoy careers that put them in the limelight. they tend to become involved in many different activities, and are sometimes reckless with both their energies and with money.” [ x ]

potter { pot ◦ ter } : the surname potter is an occupational name for a maker of drinking and storage vessels, from an agent derivative of middle english, middle low german pot. in the middle ages the term covered workers in metal as well as earthenware and clay.

—

they named you lily luna potter.

lily was after a girl with hair redder than dragon fire, just like you. your grandmother was not only an extraordinary witch but a beacon of light. lily evans-potter represented the faith that unselfish love could defeat the greatest of evils: death. she had stood for kindness, for strength, for wit, and most of all, for courage ― the fortitude to stand up to enemies and friends alike, to forge one’s own path. the right path.

but for all of her virtue, there was a certain duality to her, and the same double-edged sword cuts through your heart. you might have her capacity for love, but you also have her overwhelming fury and ferocity. it rages within you like a unstoppable forest fire, burning so bright that anything in the vicinity will be consumed in the flames – including you. sometimes you wish you could tear your bounding heart from your body, just so you could stop this unrelenting aching in your chest, once and for all. you don’t know how to handle your passion, your spark, and you almost feel ruination is all you know. and then a thought presses at your mind, so petrifying it makes your blood runs cold: you could destroy yourself one day. the brightest flames burn out the quickest.

luna was for a woman who carries a different sort of grit than your grandma did: the boldness to always be herself without remorse, without apologies. sometimes you wonder if your godmother ever tried to change. did she ever listen when the world told her what she ought to be? since the day you were born, humanity expected nothing less than greatness from you, and you don’t remember who exactly you were before they molded you into something else. you taught yourself to be fearless and brazen and strong. but even now that you’re following in your parents’ footsteps, you’re still not enough for yourself. slowly, you’re learning not to feel shame and regret when you look into the mirror, but you find the strength to steel yourself somehow, just as luna did. in front of the flashing cameras, you paste the roguish of smiles on your face, never letting them see the cracks in your armor. people are bound to talk. you’ll give them something to talk about.

and much like your namesake luna, you treasure your friends and family with all that you have too. it was always instilled in you that nothing mattered more than your loved ones, and you took that lesson to heart, sharing with them a softness that most people have never witnessed from you. they see the girl behind the facades you wear – the bounding heart you’ve learned to keep hidden away, lest the world finally manages to break it for good.

and everyone knows what potter means. whenever you walk by, people whisper. they point. you hail from the most famous wizarding family there is, and you wear your surname like a badge of honor. you are proud to be a potter and a weasley. the accomplishments your family has amounted are extraordinary. but that’s just it, isn’t it? all your life, you’ve chased glory and praise, but when your father is the wizarding world’s savior, it is impossible to measure up to the world’s expectations of you. you’re not enough, never enough.

you take pride in your name. but you are a walking memorial of a girl, named after a martyr and a maverick. you are never only yourself; you are the names of all that came before you.

and you’ll be in their shadow for the rest of your life.

birthday

august 13, 2008

“august 13 birthday - the horoscope of the sharpshooter

your greatest challenge is: coping with your anger and impatience

the way forward is: to step outside yourself when your emotions reach boiling point. this will remind you that you alone are in charge of your feelings.

people born on august 13 zodiac are no strangers to conflict and controversy. they are sharpshooters who always aim true, and their urge to break with convention compels them to take on challenges or make waves, whatever situation they are in.

the unconventional vision, resilience and tenacity of purpose that are key characteristics of these people can earn both the admiration and the disapproval of others. this is because despite the wounding criticism of those who regard their rebellious notions as ridiculous or fanciful, they always remain faithful to their beliefs. if life doesn’t go their way, they refuse to be crushed by disappointment. and as their unusual imagination is supported by solid analytical skills, more often than not those who start out disagreeing with or disapproving of them will end up admiring their bravery, even if not agreeing with their standpoint.

as risk takers, they have all the courage, discipline and energy to attract success; what they sometimes lack is perfect timing. they need to learn when to cut their losses and move on, when to be patient, and when to pounce.

dynamic and sociable, people born on august 13 zodiac often have a wide circle of friends, and their deeply felt passions and zest for life are incredibly attractive to romantic partners. however, deep insecurities underneath the bravado may block their dreams of intimacy and true love.

on the dark size: brash, insensitive, unrealistic

at your best: ambitious, resilient, courageous” [ x ]

lily came into this world only two days after her mum’s birthday, predestining her to a lifetime of comparisons to ginny. like her mother before her, she was the youngest and only girl, born at the height of summer, with hair as red as hellfire and dark, dark eyes. but anyone who’s truly paying attention could deduce the truth: there is so much harry within lily, far more than there is ginny. it’s uncanny.

because of the proximity of the dates, she’s never had a celebration to herself, and for a girl with two borrowed names, she finds herself craving something – anything – to call her own. would there ever come a day where someone would think of her without thinking of her crippling legacy? she loves her ancestry so much that she would never dare think of breaking free, but sometimes she’s not sure if she’s truly her own person or just a crude amalgam of her family.

gender

a cis-woman

sexuality

bisexual demiromantic

somewhere deep down, lily always had an inkling that she was bisexual, but it took several years for her to come to this revelation while she navigated through her internalized fear and doubt. it certainly wasn’t her family that instilled this as they had always been so accepting and supportive, but society had ingrained compulsory heterosexuality into her, making it difficult for her to find validity in her feelings for girls. she’s still not publicly out, as she isn’t ready to face the vitriol of the media, but her close friends and family all know.

much like her mother in her youth, lily has never dated anyone for long. see, while she often experiences sexual attraction, lily hasn’t quite felt a romantic attraction to anyone in years. there have been inklings of feelings here and there, yes, but never anything truly substantial. lily worries she might never fall in love again, a thought that terrifies her. but what terrifies her even more is falling in love. she’s a contradiction in that regard–she longs for intimacy but she’s afraid to be vulnerable. a highly distrustful and guarded person, she isn’t used to letting her guard down. to lily, that’s how you get hurt.

because she’s demiromantic (although she hasn’t realized it yet), lily needs to feel a romantic attraction, there needs to be an established emotional connection, a kinship. she will never have instant romantic feelings for someone. it takes time for lily to love you–and even more time for her to accept it. falling in love, after all, is opening yourself up to someone who might not feel the same. falling in love means making sacrifices for someone who might betray you. falling in love makes you weak and takes away your control, and that is what scares lily more than almost anything. so it takes a lot of trust for her to willingly admit she’s fallen in love, trust that is very hard for someone to earn.

when lily does love though, she loves recklessly. lily is always consumed by her emotions, and love is far from the exception. for those that she loves, she would eternally condemn herself to the depths of hell without a second of thought. she will bleed and ache and suffer without complaint to protect them. she’ll even kill.

blood status

halfblood

hogwarts house

gryffindor

there was never a doubt in her mind where she would be sorted until she let the sorting hat fall over her eyes. she expected to hear him bellow “gryffindor!” in a matter of seconds, but the hat took his sweet time, telling her that she could find a home with the snakes, if she wished to forge a separate path for herself.

not slytherin, she nearly cried out, clenching the edges of the stool so tightly that her nails sunk into the wood. clearing her throat, she whispered to the hat in a voice so imperious it could order kings to bow, “i will accept nothing less than gryffindor. that is where you will place me.”

the hat considered, lily’s heart pounding so fast it threatened to burst from her chest. “ordering around an all-knowing hat is definitely bold of you, if not incredibly foolish. have it your way then – it’ll have to be gryffindor!”

[ on pottermore, lily has been sorted into slytherin and gryffindor about an equal amount of times. at first glance, lily comes off as the quintessential gryffindor. however, much like her father, lily is someone who could have gone a different path into the snake pit, but ultimately, that was not what she wanted for herself. she exhibits the slytherin qualities of determination, resourcefulness, guile, and ambition, but she doesn’t value them nearly as much as she lauds her bravery, chivalry, and righteousness. and in fact, she scorns slytherin’s tendency towards self preservation. furthermore, lily’s black-and-white views of morality is just so very gryffindor at its heart – her quench for retribution is downright bloodthirsty and ruthless, but in her mind, it’s justice. she is perhaps the darkest and most dangerous sort of gryffindor – the way she sees the world is so skewed, but she views herself as right. whether she is a hero, villain, or something in between is up for debate; wickedness isn’t inherently a slytherin trait, just as goodness isn’t inherently a gryffindor trait. but she’s a gryffindor through and through.

i do think that she possesses many of the traits that salazar slytherin admires in a person though, as much as she tries to deny it. lily doesn’t hate all slytherins, but she remains prejudiced towards the house as a whole. it’s hypocritical and paranoid, really. for a girl so against bigotry, she treats a great deal of slytherins with disdain, perhaps loathing many of them more than they loathe her. the worst part is, she does see parts of herself in every slytherin, and it disgusts her. ]

religion

agnostic christian

religion was never an integral part of the potter household. her memories of attending sunday morning church are few and far between, but lily still identifies as christian, celebrating christmas and easter at the burrow every year. and there is no time better than christmas time in lily’s book. she loves sitting by the crackling fire with a cup of hot cocoa—topped with whipped cream and tiny marshmallows of course. she loves the smell of the fresh pine trees. she loves decorating the house with ornaments and lights and garlands. and if she’s in a particularly good mood, she’ll even attempt to help with the cooking and the baking. (but in all honesty, if she can make it five minutes without destroying the kitchen, that’s a christmas miracle in itself.)

nationality

english

student functions

dueling club captain, gryffindor chaser, s.p.e.w. club member, debate club member

dueling club captain

it might come as a shock that the daughter of two renowned quidditch players would rather be president of the dueling club than the gryffindor quidditch team, but lily’s never had her sights set on pursuing quidditch as a profession. she’s always dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps and joining the auror ranks, so dueling club was the natural first step to honing her combat skills. she’s been a member since the start of her hogwarts career, but it was only this year that she was finally granted that elusive captaincy.

with the sheer strength behind her spellwork and her stellar instincts in a scrimmage, she’s considered to be a dueling prodigy of sorts and has amassed a number of trophies over the years. her marks in defense against the dark arts and charms are unparalleled among her peers because she works so immensely hard to eclipse everyone else – she hopes that some glowing recommendations will prove to them (and herself) that she has earned her spot with the aurors. it won’t be handed to her because of her family name and influence but through painstakingly hard work.

but dueling club isn’t simply a means to an end to lily. there is nothing she covets more than the glorious burn in her muscles in a seething fight – the adrenaline rush when she’s high on a win. she relishes in the pain because it’s a reminder that she’s still alive, that the ice hasn’t completely turned her numb. lily always needs to be moving or else she’ll remember everything she’s trying so hard to forget.

the staff must think of her father and dumbledore’s army when they survey her demonstrations, but little do they know she and the rest of the club have tampered with the dark arts. “is it better to outmonster the monster or to be quietly devoured?” lily doesn’t know the answer, but she thinks of her father’s cold, cold body and the spell that stole his life. she’ll only call upon such terrible magic in the direst of circumstances, but it’s best that she’s aware of exactly what she’s fighting against as far as she’s concerned.

gryffindor chaser

quidditch might be less of a priority to lily than dueling club, but she still cherishes the sport more than she could ever express aloud. she loves the smooth handle of her prized broom, given to her by her dad on her eleventh birthday, engraved with her initials. she relishes in the freedom of the rushing wind against her skin, how alive she feels when she flies. (it’s hard to feel alive these days.) quidditch is her chance to escape herself, to be unfettered from all the thoughts swirling around in her head.

when she learned how to play, she took to the quaffle, not the snitch. lily can never see herself choosing to wait when she can still move – racing around the pitch and scoring goal after goal is better than squinting in the wind, praying for something to happen. there’s nothing like the excitement of the match to get her blood rushing. she knows that when they cheer for her, it’s not because of who she is but because of the points she just scored. there’s no better feeling than that.

she’s thought about quitting – who could think of quidditch in a time like this? but it was her father who taught her how to soar through the sky, and now that he’s gone, she can’t bear to sever that connection to him. so for once, she’ll let herself be selfish.

physical appearance

hair

red. the same red as her mother’s hair, although ginny’s has slightly faded overtime with age. lily’s has natural loose waves, but she has been known to straighten or curl it from time to time. it depends on her whims that day, really. save for one disastrous haircut when she was nine though, her hair has never been short. it’s almost impossible to style short hair after all, and lily adores playing around with different styles. her hair is most often–and unsurprisingly–the first thing people notice about her. it’s hard to miss hair that red in a crowd.

eyes

brown and almond-shaped like her mother. lily breathes passion and emotion, so it’s no surprise that despite her best efforts to conceal her emotions, her eyes are often the window to her soul; they’re so very expressive. lily will make deliberate eye contact almost always–even when lying–except in moments where she’s feeling particularly vulnerable. that is when she will look away. but the expression she makes most often? eye rolls. she’s perfected them over the years.

height

5’0. she’s fairly sure she’s already done growing; she’s about as tall as her mum who stopped growing around sixteen. lily isn’t insecure about her height, but she loathes being underestimated for it. she refuses to allow herself to be disregarded and thought of as a little girl merely because she’s small–as her uncle says, “size is no guarantee of power,” and lily is the utter proof of that.

weight

98 lbs

body type

short and petite

voice

energetic and loud—if one wishes to be heard in the weasley family, loudness is a necessity. and if she’s particularly upset, it’s not uncommon for lily’s voice to turn shrill, high pitched, and piercing. lily also tends to speak in exaggerated tones with a great deal of emphasis placed on her words, and she’s no stranger to swears either, often struggling to tone it down among her superiors. lily’s been told she’s mouthy, and it’s true; she talks a far deal, so much so that it’s hard to get a word in with her around.

gait

lily tends to move swiftly from one place to another, never one to waste time to stop and smell the roses; she has things to do, for merlin’s sake. luckily, she was blessed with grace and coordination unlike some people (hem, hem, teddy), and her posture is decent by all accounts except her aunt fleur’s.

piercings

ears, once on each side.

markings/scars

various scrapes and scars. some of them are from the childhood adventures she used to drag her cousins into; one particular time she attempted to climb the tall oak tree in the burrow’s backyard, which resulted in a concussion, a broken leg, and a large scar on her arm that she covers via magic and makeup. but the vast majority are the product of raging fights and heart-palpitating duels – they are her shining battle scars. she keeps them carefully glamoured to prevent the mirage of her delicacy from shattering, but the truth is, she’s proud of them. they are a symbol of every war she’s won. everything she’s overcome.

personal style

[ tw: sexualization of a minor ]

feminine. lily has always been very comfortable in her femininity, her aunt fleur teaching her from a young age that it’s possible to be both effeminate and strong. she is a strong believer that females should be allowed to dress as they please and not be discriminated against for it, and she loathes it when people write her off as a weak little princess for her fashion choices. lily most often wears blood red lipstick and nail polish–her battle armor in the fight against feminism. most people are surprised to see that a little girl with such “girly” taste has such a mouth on her, but lily potter is no princess in distress. lily potter is the dragon standing guard.

and growing up in the weasley-potter household, she was no stranger to muggle culture, so thus her clothing choices are much more similar to that of a teenage muggle girl than a budding witch. she loves dresses and skirts and blouses and crop tops, and don’t even get her started on stilettos. she has one particular leather jacket though, given to her by her brother victoire, that she actually doesn’t mind wearing—as long as she has her stockings and leather miniskirt on. she’s almost never seen without makeup on–blush, lipstick, and mascara at the very least–and she keeps her nails sharp and painted. lily has actually assisted her uncle with the wonderwitch line at weasley’s wizard wheezes before; she helped george develop a line of long-staying lipstick and nail polish.

her wardrobe choices are considered promiscuous by the media. her skirts are too short. too much of her cleavage shows in her tops. she exposes her midriff more than she should. but lily doesn’t dress the way that she does to attract people–she dresses the way that she does because she likes it. she won’t stand for accusations of “distracting the males around her.” it isn’t her job to dress more modestly to aid their self control. if a boy touches her without her permission or uses misogynistic slurs towards her, she will destroy them without a single thought.

the media made the mistake of sexualizing her from a young age, calling her all sorts of names like whore and slag. her clothes are a “fuck you” to rita skeeter and the journalists at witch weekly. you want to see a girl gone wild? then that’s what you’ll get, darling. (the anger seethes in her body so long that it rots her bones – one day she’ll come for them all.)

headcanons

fears

losing more family, not living up to expectations, disappointing her family and not living up to the family name, never finding love, opening up to be rejected or betrayed, the thought of being afraid itself, being powerless or limited, not being in control of herself, being perceived as weak, not being able to save the people she cares about, falling in love with the wrong person, the possibility that she’s just as terrible as the people she loathes, not making it as an auror

her fears are most often abstract rather than physical, tangible things. in fact, lily’s boggart manifests into her body on the floor, trapped in a full body bind while helplessly watching a faceless person murder the people she cares about, one by one. the deadliest foes will not make her blink but the very thought of being powerless when she needs her the strength the most? it can be crippling. when she was first faced with her boggart in her third year whilst in dada class, lily froze for several seconds, absolutely paralyzed by the image, a fact she still denies to this day. she is a potter. she is the strong one. she isn’t supposed to know fear. (oh but she does.)

goals

[ tw: parental death ]

ending the war, becoming an auror, living up to her name, freeing herself from her family’s shadow, making the world a better place, finding a way to impose justice on those who’ve wronged her

lily longs to make her family proud of her, but even more so, she wishes to escape their shadow, to be seen as a separate entity. she wants to earn her accomplishments, not be handed them on a silver platter. she wants to make a change, a true difference. it’s idealistic of her, but that’s what she wants. if lily glimpsed into the mirror of erised before her father’s death, she would have seen herself finally free from her father’s shadow, being given the order of merlin first class, her proud family in the background. but now? if she were to look, all she would see is her father, standing right by her side.

amortentia

firewhiskey, petrichor, firewood, hot chocolate, broom polish, old books, roses, treacle tart, strawberries and whipped cream, french vanilla, the sea, chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven, cinnamon, cherries, cloves

patronus

phoenix.

“the phoenix is a difficult patronus to come by, and if you do happen to have it, it signifies a very strong heart. these people have been through a lot in their life, and have risen from the ashes of it and become driven, daring, and a bit stubborn. they will not let anything bring them down, because they’ve been there before and never want to go back to that place. they have fire-like emotions, and can therefore be a bit tense at times. they are natural therapists, wanting to help others get out of tough places to allow them to rise as well. the most common house for a phoenix patronus is gryffindor. the most common signs are leo and taurus.” [ x ]

everything in that description is so lily to me, but because i like to be thorough, i’m going to delve in a little deeper.

the phoenix is a bird with red and gold plumage–the colors of gryffindor. and although lily does have traits from the other houses as well, she is essentially the textbook gryffindor. their scarlet body feathers glow in the darkness, and their gold tail feathers are scorching to the touch, a perfect metaphor for the flames within her.

phoenixes are said to be capable of carrying tremendously large loads, and this also screams lily to me because this is the girl who’s trying to carry the world on her shoulders. she may be failing, but merlin is she trying. and the truth is, lily can withstand a great deal before hitting her limit, her breaking point. just like a phoenix.

phoenixes are symbols of rebirth and healing; they may go up in flames every now and again, but every time, they come back from it. they come back from it just as strong as they were before. this is lily. she is the girl with the elastic heart, the girl who’s overcome so much in her small time on earth thus far. and she will do whatever it takes to heal her loved ones until her last dying breath.

the phoenix song evokes bravery in the hearts of the righteous and strikes terror into the hearts of the wicked – lily is a person who has the capacity to save the planet from the brink of devastation or set it on flames herself. but one thing is for certain: she will change the world.

lastly, the phoenix is of course the symbol of the order of the phoenix. her loyalty to the order’s values and her family is unwavering, and to me, it makes sense that her patronus would also reflect that.

wand

[ tw: parental death ]

12 inches, cypress, dragon heartstring, hard

“cypress - cypress wands are associated with nobility. the great medieval wandmaker, geraint ollivander, wrote that he was always honoured to match a cypress wand, for he knew he was meeting a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death. fortunately, in these less blood-thirsty times, the possessors of cypress wands are rarely called upon to lay down their lives, though doubtless many of them would do so if required. wands of cypress find their soul mates among the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing: those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures.

dragon heartstring - symbolizes power and wisdom. those who are strong, wise, compassionate, dedicated, relentless, resilient, bold, strong-minded, head-strong, powerful, ambitious, highly determined and driven (to obsessive), have strong desire and/or stubborn would have this wand core. having such a wand core suggests that you can be bossy at times, but also have a fiery disposition and have firm convictions, which will lead you down the road to leadership, as well as being devoted and selfless. this is the best core to have for hexes, the dark arts and all manner of elemental magic. it is a core predominantly found among those of house slytherin, but can also bond well with those of house ravenclaw and house gryffindor. as a rule, dragon heartstring cores produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. wands with dragon heartstring cores tend to learn more quickly than other types. in elemental magic, dragon heartstring cores are the most flexible of all the common cores, being that they work well with all manner of elemental spells, but no doubt that fire spells are among the most potent with this core type. while they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. such wands also tend to be easiest to turn to the dark arts, though they will not incline that way of their own accord. such wands are also the most prone to the ‘three cores to accidents’, being somewhat temperamental. dragon heartstring cores are a powerful wand core with a lot of magical “heft”. they are not the wand core you want for subtlety, but for sheer power, they are definitely the best. although they are the most common core among dark wizards and dark witches, they are most certainly not their most common users. dragon heartstring cores are by far the most common wand core amongst slytherins, but their power often bonds well to gryffindors and ravenclaws as well. however, they tend to overwhelm the archetypal hufflepuff personality.

hard - a wand of this flexibility is very difficult to work with and its loyalty is not won easily. hard wands are great for complex and advanced levels of magic, so beginning wizards and witches may find extra difficulty with this wand when it doesn’t perform well for simple magic. as such, this type of wand is best suited for wizards and witches who are gifted, stubborn, and never give up. owners of this wand also have a tendency to view things in absolutes; black or white. some people may find them intimidating or difficult to approach.” [ x ]

in classical antiquity, the cypress tree was a symbol of mourning, death, and the underworld, and it remains the most common cemetery tree in europe. her wand wood is not only a metaphor for lily’s name and all that her family has lost but also a poignant symbol of her underlying trauma – the early death of her childhood. the most well-known myth about the cypress tree is the tale of cyparissus and his beloved stag companion, who he accidentally murdered with his hunting javelin. his sorrow was so consuming that he begged to weep forever, transforming into a cypress tee, with the tree’s sap as his tears. as the stag is of course harry’s patronus, it all relates back to her father and her grief over him.

bad habits

becoming so intensely focused that she forgets to eat, over-straining or over-extenuating herself, being quick to anger, drinking too much, reality television, swearing, using romantic relationships and hook-ups as a means to feel better about herself, staying up too late, having too many cups of coffee per day, lying to others (and herself), seeing things too black-and-white, being too loud, over-involving herself into others’ affairs, letting her emotions completely consume her, placing blame where it does not belong (on both herself and others), deflecting with sarcasm

likes

peonies and roses (her favorite flowers, not lilies), pop music (she likes upbeat songs she can dance to -- her favorite artists are lorde, beyonce, rihanna, sia, and marina and the diamonds and she almost exclusively listens to female artists), quidditch (she plays chaser like her mum), reality television (a guilty pleasure), the sea (when she’s around water, she feels at peace for once for it soothes the flames burning within her), coffee, hot chocolate (it reminds her of christmas, her favorite time of the year), the color red, muggle literature, family, romance movies (another guilty pleasure though she’ll never admit it), french food, dueling, honeydukes chocolate, treacle tart (it’s her favorite, much like her father), alcohol, fashion, puppies (she will not tolerate cats), warm weather, fire, dueling, nail polish (she has a plethora of colors), stilettos, and surprisingly a great deal of “nerdy” things (such as star wars, lord of the rings, and comic books) but if you try to call her a nerd she’s likely to punch you

quirks

lily cannot cook at all and has set her kitchen on fire multiple occasions.

she loves to sing but is so horrifically tone deaf that she truly shouldn’t. (her favorite genre is pop.)

her art consists of poorly colored stick figures, honestly resembling that of a child’s.

for someone so fiery, she is very averse to the winter. three minutes in the cold and she’ll be absolutely freezing—goosebumps and all.

she much prefers muggle clothes to robes.

secrets

[ tw: emotional abuse, binge drinking/developing alcoholism, ptsd ]

lily has always been brazen and intrepid and fierce, but as a child, she was just a bit softer, before the world hardened her. unfortunately, growing up under the microscope of the media, she was still left vulnerable to vitriol and sexualization, and it forced her to grow up too fast, despite her family’s best efforts to shield their little girl. this is when her insecurities truly started to grapple her, but she responded by putting on an unbreakable facade and feigning confidence. when she was in her third year, she dated someone for the first time, a fifth year named adonis. he was utterly beguiling, like a python before it swallows you whole. at first, there was the honeymoon period where she felt as though she were on top of the world – a beautiful older boy was interested in her. but it was all a cruel game to him, and over time, he pinpointed her insecurities and used them to influence and control her in a manner that was so sly it took her ages to realize it. this was all while convincing her to keep their relationship a secret, so her family would be none the wiser, which isolated her from those who truly cared about her. after about five or six months, she finally recognized something was very wrong and broke free from him, but the emotional abuse and gaslighting left its toll on her as she came to terms with it. never in her life had she felt so stupid, so foolish, and she vowed to never lose control again. this heavily contributed to her fear of falling in love. nowadays, she never lasts in a romantic relationship long, flitting from person to person. she hasn’t ever talked about what happened, but in his seventh year (her fifth), she discovered that he was isolating and manipulating another girl, and she clandestinely struck with a curse that left him permanently blind. never again would he be able to touch her – or anyone else. she can only hope the taste of her was worth it.

after she broke up with him, she also started drinking at parties to endure the fame and trauma, savoring how the firewhiskey numbed her and allowed her an temporary escape from herself. it started out innocuous, but over the years, she’s fallen deeper into alcoholism as it’s very much a coping mechanism for her. while she doesn’t truly hide her drinking, she shuts down anyone who tries to tell her she has a problem.

she’s still a virgin. she’s fooled around before, but every time she comes close to letting someone truly see her, she thinks about how she almost slept with someone she shouldn’t have. she’s never properly dealt with the trauma from her first relationship, but as far she’s concerned, she’s perfectly fine.

her confidence is merely a mask for her insecurities about not being good enough. fake it until you make it, muggles say, and lily cannot disagree.

she pretends as if she isn’t afraid of anything—as if nothing fazes her—when in reality, she knows fear just as much as everyone else. she simply won’t admit it.

jung type

enfj. (extroversion over introversion; intuition over sense; feelings over thoughts; judging over perceiving)

“enfjs are the benevolent ‘pedagogues’ of humanity. they have tremendous charisma by which many are drawn into their nurturant tutelage and/or grand schemes. many enfjs have tremendous power to manipulate others with their phenomenal interpersonal skills and unique salesmanship. but it’s usually not meant as manipulation — enfjs generally believe in their dreams, and see themselves as helpers and enablers, which they usually are.

enfjs are global learners. they see the big picture. the enfjs focus is expansive. some can juggle an amazing number of responsibilities or projects simultaneously.many enfjs have tremendous entrepreneurial ability.

enfjs are, by definition, js, with whom we associate organization and decisiveness. but they don’t resemble the sjs or even the ntjs in organization of the environment nor occasional recalcitrance. enfjs are organized in the arena of interpersonal affairs. their offices may or may not be cluttered, but their conclusions (reached through feelings) about people and motives are drawn much more quickly and are more resilient than those of their nfp counterparts.

enfjs know and appreciate people. like most nfs, (and feelers in general), they are apt to neglect themselves and their own needs for the needs of others. they have thinner psychological boundaries than most, and are at risk for being hurt or even abused by less sensitive people. enfjs often take on more of the burdens of others than they can bear.” [ x ]

moral alignment

chaotic good.

“chaotic stands overall for freedom and adaptability, and especially chaotic good embodies that. characters of this alignment disdain bureaucratic organisations that get in the way of social improvement and place high value on personal freedom - but not just their own, but the personal freedom of others as well. since they are on the good axis, they are altruistic and intend to do what is right, regardless of what society may think of it, or whether they go against the law while doing it. think of a vigilante that’s a champion of the people, but frequently breaks the law helping people. they’re not much for planning and extensive organisation versus improvisation, and may create conflict in a team if they feel being pushed around (by, for instance, a lawful character). chaotic good characters might best work independently for that reason, or at least with someone who will respect their personal boundaries.

traits: rebellious, free-spirited, listens to their conscience, follows own moral compass, independent, kind, benevolent, believes in goodness, cares little for laws and regulations, good-natured, unpredictable, value freedom, believe people should follow their own desires, responsible, doubt their government, reckless

positives: combines a good heart with a free spirit, encourages selflessness, encourages freedom and equality, doing good is not seen as a duty, doing good is their responsibility, punishes evil and protects the innocent, keep their word, helps those in need, never kills for pleasure

negatives: disrupts the order of society, punishes those who do well for themselves, often resent authority, refuse to do good as a duty even if they end up doing it anyway on their own terms, promote society with little control from the government, occasionally breaks the law, may resort to torture when deemed necessary, may kill when deemed necessary” [ x ]

temperament

choleric.

“the choleric is an extroverted, hot-tempered, quick thinking, active, practical, strong-willed and easily annoyed person. cholerics are self-confident, self-sufficient and very independent minded. they are decisive and opinionated and find it easy to make decisions for themselves as well as others. cholerics tend to leave little room for negotiating. the choleric is a visionary and seems to never run out of ideas, plans and goals, which are usually very practical. the choleric does not require as much sleep as the other temperaments so their activity seems endless. their activity almost always has a purpose because they are by nature result-oriented. they usually do not give in to the pressure of what others think unless they see that they cannot get the desired results. cholerics can be crusaders against social injustice as they love to fight for a cause. cholerics are both direct and firm when responding to others. they are slow to build relationships because results tend to be more important than people. they do not easily empathize with the feelings of others or show compassion. cholerics think big and seek positions of authority.” [ x ]

enneagram

type eight (with a type seven wing).

“the powerful, dominating type:

self-confident, decisive, willful, and confrontational

generally, eights are strong, assertive, resourceful, independent, determined, action-oriented, pragmatic, competitive, straight-talking, shrewd, and insistent.

eights get into conflicts by being blunt, willful, domineering, forceful, defiant, confrontational, bad-tempered, rageful, cynical, and vengeful.

at their best, eights are honorable, heroic, empowering, generous, gentle, constructive, initiating, decisive, and inspiring.

enneagram type 8 with the 7 wing desire to appear commanding and see themselves as outspoken, innovative, intense, daring, striking, attractive and tenderhearted.

basic fear: of being harmed or controlled by others.

basic desire: to protect themselves, to be in control of their own life and destiny.

basic motivations: want to be self-reliant, to prove their strength and resist weakness, to be important in their world, to dominate the environment, and to stay in control of their situation.

stress point: type five - withdraws, avoids people, observes and thinks, consolidates plans.

security point: type two - protector of the weak, generous, helpful, charming.” [ x ]

soul type

the warrior.

the source i used for this one was another long page [ x ], so i’m just going to copy and paste the quotes that seemed particularly lily-ish.

“warriors are forceful souls; they embody qualities of strength, courage and determination. like kings, warriors are action-oriented beings, and therefore down-to-earth, single-minded and very willful. unlike kings, however, they tend to be more attracted to the cut and thrust of battle (whether real or metaphorical), preferring to just get stuck in rather than to stand back pulling all the strings.”

“warrior souls tend to see life in terms of confrontations and rising to the challenge. there are causes to serve, struggles to be overcome, battles to be won. they like to be on the front line with their trusted comrades, and strongly value both courage and loyalty. the basic drive of any warrior is to uphold something “right” and defeat something “wrong”, however those two are defined.”

“in the positive pole, persuasion, a warrior is forceful and effective without being overbearing. in other words, respectfully persuasive, courageous and protective. in the negative pole, coercion, the warrior descends into intimidation.”

zodiac

her sun sign is leo.

“the lion.

fixed, fire, yang - planetary ruler: the sun. keywords: i will

leo is the fifth sign of the zodiac and rules the back, the spine, and the heart. positive traits include creativity, charisma, generosity, warmth, enthusiasm, a natural talent for leadership, and a great deal of inner power; negative traits are haughtiness, snobbery, an expectation that one is the centre of attention and should be waited on by everyone else, profligacy, lack of realism, dominance that can lead to bullying, and a refusal to change one’s mind even in the face of solid facts.

this is a natural sign for gryffindors, not least because the griffin is part lion. gryffindors born under this sign are outgoing, friendly, affectionate, and likeable. they make friends easily and are crushed when their advances are rejected. their romantic, chivalrous nature makes them perfect examples of all that is best in their house. however, they are also bossy, domineering, spendthrift, and overly dramatic (ever heard the phrase ‘drama queen?’) they have sharp tempers and need to learn to direct their anger toward only needful causes. the natural creativity and flamboyance of leo makes gryffindors born under this sign good at most everything they attempt, provided they apply themselves to learning magic rather than using magic to hog the limelight.” [ x ]

her moon sign is scorpio, a fixed water sign. the moon sign explanation i’m using [ x ] is particularly long, so i’m not going to copy and paste the whole thing, but here are some things on there that i feel really apply to lily.

“because the depth of your emotions – their strength and potential power – can be so intense, they can at times be overwhelming. early on in life, you may find yourself swinging between extremes of emotional peaks and troughs, feeling intensely and acutely every dimension of life. you are reminded not to collapse yourself into your emotions, or believe just because an emotion has intensity it must be acted upon. part of your nature requires you to allow strong feelings to unfold without being overcome by them.”

“you feel intensely, for better or for worse. this can at times make you seem vulnerable, but in truth you are likely to have much strength. your emotional nature combines sensitivity with the instinctual awareness that real growth only happens through episodes of pain and transformation.”

“there may be a tendency to try and protect this vulnerability, hiding the true depths of what you really feel. this tendency to suppress your emotions can go both ways. on the one hand, you may try to detach from uncomfortable emotions, and avoid circumstances that will really get you to feel. you may protect yourself from close encounters with others, and find emotional release through fictional or fantasy-based sources. or, you may attempt to control and dominate others with moodiness, lashing out at them before they can ‘get to you’. defense is used as a form of offense to prevent others discovering how sensitive and vulnerable you really feel.”

“at its highest level, the moon in scorpio gives you the ability to transform your own and others lives. you can act as an agent for change to become a catalyst for greater growth and awareness. you can help others shift their psychological values. the potential power contained here is enormous. you have the opportunity to be a force for change.”

lastly her ascendant sign is aries, with mars also in aries. again, the page i’m using [ x ] is long, so i’m just going to copy and paste some things that stand out to me.

“people with aries ascendants are direct and quick. their first instinct is to do, rather than think.”

“some aries rising people are competitive, but they generally put most of the pressure on themselves. these people love to come out ahead in all that they do. they get ready quickly, walk quickly, and have little patience for dilly-dallying. their temper is quick, too.”

“your ruling planet, mars, is also in aries: you are a fireball of vitality and a true warrior. become a master of yourself and conquer your own arrogance, impatience, and anger before you go out to conquer the world or burn yourself out.”

tropes

action girl, chronic hero syndrome, determinator, good is not soft, tsundere, lady of adventure, red is heroic, fool for love, the idealist, rebellious spirit, lethal chef, go-getter girl, fiery redhead

character parallels

blossom (powerpuff girls), barbara gordon (batman comics), rose hathaway (vampire academy), buffy summers (buffy: the vampire slayer), anastasia (anastasia 1997), leia organa (star wars), mary jane watson (spiderman), nina zenik (six of crows), kim possible (kim possible), kayley (quest for camelot), sabrina spellman (chilling adventures of sabrina), arya stark (a song of ice and fire), rey (star wars)

element

fire

lily is the living embodiment of fire – most of the time, she is a seething forest fire, and all she knows is destruction. but some days, she’s reduced down to a mere spark, a flicker. no matter what though, she’s always burning.

deadly sin

wrath

she is choleric and vindictive and ferocious and wicked. she knows this, and deep down, she’s utterly terrified that she might truly be a horrible person. she wasn’t always this bitter, this cruel, but she is never going to be the girl she once was. she isn’t ever coming back.

heavenly virtue

charity

lily isn’t infallible – she’s a teenage girl after all – but she’s surprisingly selfless when it comes to the people she cares about. she’d do just about anything for them. hell, she’d sacrifice herself for any of them without hesitation if it ever came down to it. her wand wood is cypress for a reason.

history

birthplace

st. mungo’s hospital

residence

godric’s hallow

socioeconomic status

upper class, wealthy

pets

a little cairn terrier named toto

lily is such a dog person – once during her first year she and hagrid tried to sneak in another three-headed puppy into hogwarts; he was a vicious little thing named buddy (because these two consider any dog their buddy, even if it could bite their head off). but minerva mcgonagall caught her in the nick of time and the poor headmistress chewed them out so loudly that the hogsmeade villagers most likely heard. and buddy was given back to his original owner. but now lily owns a little cairn terrier who means the world to her – the only boy she’s ever loved, or so she claims. his name is toto because he looks suspiciously like toto from wizard of oz, a favorite childhood movie of hers, and he was given to lily last year by her close friend, clarabel, who’s particularly talented at conjuring animals. curiously, his personality and disposition almost mirrors clarabel’s, most likely because she was the one who brought him to life. as toto isn’t technically “real” (please don’t say this to her), he does not age and could disappear at any given moment, which was the only reason why she was allowed to bring him to hogwarts. granted, it took several impassioned speeches to mcgonagall that went something along the lines of “albus is allowed to bring a ferret, but i can’t bring a dog? ferrets carry diseases, headmistress!” it’s almost remarkable how a girl this hardened can be so soft in the presence of dogs.

father

[ tw: parental death ]

lily adored her father to the point of idolization. from a young age, lily became convinced that he could do no wrong, that he was impervious to evil and completely invincible. he was the savior of the wizarding world. the world’s hero. her hero. she would have followed him to the end of the world. it is because of him that she has always dreamed of becoming an auror. she wanted to make him proud, and moreover, she wants to do some good in the world herself. however, her idolization of her father certainly has its negative effects; she puts him on so high of a pedestal that she can’t admit his faults, especially now. not to mention, she’s so concerned about not living up to the expectations of the potter name and is convinced she will never be able to. she will never live up to her dad. and she will spend the rest of her life not knowing how proud of her he really was.

mother

her relationship with her mother is much healthier than her relationship with her father. although she’s always been a bit closer to harry, ginny and lily are still close to each other, and ginny is most protective over her youngest daughter because she always longed for a girl. while harry taught her how to fly, it was ginny who taught her how to play quidditch. lily inherited her natural chaser skills (among other things). lily would confide in her mother almost anything. yes, they do argue because their personalities are both so strong, but there is complete trust and respect between the two of them.

siblings

in the potter-weasley clan, family is valued over anything, and her older siblings are no exception. although they are older in age, lily is viciously protective over them. she watches out for them because she needs them—she needs albus and james. she has no clue what she’d do without her brothers around, but she never wants to find out. lily would lay down her lives for them in a heartbeat, no hesitation at all, no questions asked. because if it’s between them or her, she’d choose herself every time. they have their rows–all siblings do–but at the end of the day, she’s with them until the end of the line.

early history

i. rooting

your relatives always tell the same little anecdotes about your birth. after all those times you hear them over family dinner, birthday parties, the frequent family outings ― any time and place your parents could embarrass you, honestly ― you memorize them.

mum will always go on and on about the pain, how it felt like “a bloody watermelon was coming out of my birth canal,” and dad will always reminisce about how she cursed like a sailor at him every five minutes for “putting this goddamn demon baby in my tiny stomach” and how she threatened to strangle him later. uncle ron will always talk about how he almost fainted when you came out of mum because holy crap the blood. and of course, grandma will always reprimand them for exaggerating and reassure everyone that mum never once called you a demon.

but here’s the part that always sticks to you the most: you were the hardest, most painful birth out of the three. when your mother finally did manage to push you out, you kicked and screamed and cried, and she looked at you and faintly murmured, still weak from the pain, “that’s it. i’m done.”

and you are their final child.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

the youngest and smallest daughter of a prodigious family, you grow up showered with unadulterated affection and care ― you are so loved that you could drown in its depths. there is never a single moment you doubt just how much they cherish you. it’s in every bear hug, every kiss to your forehead, every pinched cheek. they love you more than the world itself, giving you everything that they have, teaching you all that they know.

grandpa instills in you a curiosity and compassion for the mortal world, like the foolhardy little mermaid’s fascination with the shore up above. “just because they don’t share the same powers we do doesn’t mean they’re magicless,” he insists. “everyone has magic flowing inside of their veins. there are people out there who somehow manage to remember every tune on the radio, children who always know how to make their big siblings laugh, grandmas who always brew a perfect cup of tea. you don’t think there’s something magic to that? all you have to do is look, lils. you’ll see it.”

grandma tries to teach you how to cook, but you’re so quickly infuriated in the kitchen that your magic bubbles to a boil as steaming as dragon fire. before you can stop it, it bursts through the seams of your body and sets the food alight. every damn time. after aquamenti’s spluttered out for the fifteenth time amongst the thick and engulfing smoke, molly just heaves a sigh and shakes her head. “well, we’ll try again when you’re older, darling.” (why is it so much easier for you to destroy than create? sometimes you feel as though you are ruination entrapped in a tiny slip of a girl as it pounds and hollers to be set free. nurture is the gene that you failed to inherit, and it haunts you.)

but mum shows you how to wield those flames inside of you, to take the destruction and demolition thumping in your chest and weaponize it. “your family will always be here to fight for you, but it’s still important that you learn how to fend for yourself.” you learn how to fight tooth and nail. the muggle way, without the divinity of a wand. you’re the spitting image of your mother, small as they come, but size is no guarantee of power. you know that well. when you play make believe, you never demand to be the princess but the knight in shining armor, sword and shield in hand.

from your uncle ron, you learn to have courage in the presence of fear, and from aunt hermione, social justice and protest. uncle bill and aunt fleur teach you that inner beauty is as valuable, if not more, than outer beauty. uncle charlie shows you that there was no harm in a little (or a lot of) danger. uncle george and fred illustrate the indispensable power of laughter and tomfoolery ― what good’s existence if you don’t know how to live? uncle percy’s lesson is perhaps the most important, a lesson he almost understood too late: never to abandon your family. “always remember this, lily, we all love you so much no matter what.” percy stresses.

they love you.

and your dad ― he teaches you how to love them back.

ii. rising

then you’re a little ten-year-old upset that your brothers, your godbrother, and your cousins have left you. in the dust. for a castle ― a magical castle where there are ghosts and trolls and a talking hat. a talking sorting hat who somehow shoulders the responsibility of deciding your entire fucking future. (gryffindor? oh merlin, please, gryffindor.)

and most of them can’t even be bothered to pick up the quill and properly write.

but you don’t cry over these things, see? you never cry. (everyone says you’re like your mum. she never cries. dad secretly likes that about mum. dad isn’t much for tears.)

dad doesn’t mind if you cry, he says, but you don’t want to bother him. he’s a weary war hero, even if he pretends to not be for you. he’s had enough. he’s seen enough. he’s felt enough pain for a lifetime. and all is finally well for him, apparently.

you don’t want him to have to deal with your problems.

last time you ever allowed yourself to cry ― you were around five or six? there was a thunderstorm. it was the first one you remembered in your life. (yeah. you fucking cried over a thunderstorm.) no one seemed to be able to calm you down, no one but james. james came over, wet and unruly hair sticking up on all ends, and said “it’s going to be okay, lils, i’m here. no one’s going to hurt you.”

no one will hurt you while your family’s here. so what use is getting upset over anything? they will always be there. to protect you.

and anyways. you’re lily fucking potter.

you’re the chosen one’s daughter.

what the hell do you need tears for? tears are for the weak.

you should be able to bloody take care of yourself.

you should be able to bloody protect them.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

growing up in such a large family, you have become accustom to chaos and pandemonium and a cacophony of hollering voices. but with so many of them gone away, it’s so disturbingly quiet when you come around the burrow.

your uncle ron takes it upon himself to teach you wizard chess.

of course, you lose at first.

but you’re not one for giving up.

also there’s something satisfying about controlling your pieces and planning your moves ― having power over something feels good.

there’s also something very desensitizing about winning a match and seeing your opponent’s piece violently ― barbarically as your aunt hermione says ― shatter to crumbs.

but maybe that’s a little twisted. getting satisfaction off of that.

aunt hermione seems to be concerned about it.

the point is though ― you get good.

you’re bold and reckless and instinctual in your moves, yes. but you get very good.

iii. blooming

[ tw: emotional abuse and alcoholism ]

you’re finally at hogwarts.

and you’re a gryffindor. thank merlin. (the hat said almost slytherin. but definitely gryffindor. you begged and told it “not slytherin.” and so it put you into gryffindor almost immediately after.

as far you’re concerned, that hat was probably rather tipsy that night. if it can talk and sing songs and make decisions, it can get drunk, okay?

and the words that it said while it was intoxicated? can’t be held accounted for.

so thus: you’re a gryffindor. through and through.

no one else needs to know anything different.)

you owl your entire family about it. they’re all proud. most of them say you could have been in any house and it would have been absolutely fine. but they’re all quite proud.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

in third year, you date a boy for the first time.

he sends you love letters. meets with you outside of school. tells you not to tell anyone about him. that sends off warning signs immediately. why can’t your family know? what the fuck is going on?

“let’s keep it a secret, just for now. i don’t want anyone to screw us up, lil. i don’t think they’d like me.”

“why wouldn’t my family like you? i like you. i’d make them like you.”

“please, lil, we can tell them eventually. i’m just scared to right now. you’re the first person i’ve ever had feelings for.”

you’ve always had a very low trust for people, there’s something you love about being called lil though. so you’re wary. but you decide to listen. this time.

but this time turns into just one more time. and it cycles. you excuse things you shouldn’t, all in the name of love. he isolates you, and he knows just how to push your buttons, to pinpoint your insecurities and lash out like a snake.

it takes you months, but you finally come to your senses and see it for what it is: plain and simple abuse. you untether yourself from him.

and then you try your best to forget about it.

maybe that’s part of the reason why you enjoy firewhiskey the first time you try it, just after you turn fourteen.

it burns like it should. it makes you numb. it’s a proper escape.

and it’s pretty damn clear: love gets in the way of things. love is pointless.

also, no one’s allowed to call you lil. ever again.

iv: wilting

[ tw: parental death ]

you’re sixteen. you just turned fucking sixteen.

and your dad’s dead.

your dad’s dead and you didn’t get to say goodbye and the last fucking thing you have of him? it’s his map.

you’d protect that map with your life. even if you’d rather have him.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

it’s all a blur for a while. the condolences, the flowers, the funeral, the memorial, the tears…it’s all just a blur.

you just…you don’t understand why he’s dead.

a war hero. the head of the auror department. the savior. the chosen one.

he was the best of the best.

and he’s dead.

what hope does anyone still have?

practically none.

but dad would want you to have hope.

so you do your best to have some.

your family is just so clearly a mess though. even if they’re all mostly trying to hide it.

you’re the only one in mcgonagall’s army who actually seems to give a damn about people and this hopeless fucking world that’s probably not even worth saving in the first place.

so it’s just all on you now.

because dad’s not here.

he was supposed to always be there.

but he’s not anymore.

but it’s all right. (it’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right. you’re the hero of this story. don’t need to saved.)

you need to do something. you can’t just sit down and cry about it.

dad was always so selfless and concerned about the people he loved, but now that he’s not here? you don’t think that dad would really want you to just let his world go to hell.

when you were younger? you knew you wanted to be an auror. and he was proud of that. he helped train you. he was preparing you for this. maybe in some sick, twisted way…the universe meant for this to happen, for him to be taken away from you.

maybe he knew it too. and that’s why he tried so hard to prepare you.

the reasons don’t really matter, you don’t want to fucking talk to anyone about it. this is all just your job now.

that’s it.

iv: falling

you become harsh and hopeless, a storm that never seems to break. gone is the girl who was terrified of lightning and thunder – now you embody them, reveling in the demolition. you are untouchable, and you’re not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse.

if your father was still alive, you wonder if he would be proud.

but you know in your heart, he wouldn’t.

personality

strengths

caring, protective, loyal, intelligent, passionate, determined, brave, outgoing, selfless, witty, cunning, chivalrous, charismatic, adventurous, capable, ambitious, bold, independent, kind, generous, loving, well-intentioned, heroic, willful, free-spirited, warm, revolutionary, compassionate, decisive, hard-working, intuitive, pro-active, family-oriented

weaknesses

paranoid, envious, grudge-holder, blunt, outspoken, misconstrued perceptions, over-drinks, distrustful, stubborn, argumentative, hotheaded, feels the overwhelming need to save everyone and fix everything, too emotionally driven to the point of being illogical, impatient, reckless, lack of regard for her own life, sarcastic, insecure, unyielding, inability to admit she’s wrong, worrier, perfectionist, dishonest, controlling, competitive, unpredictable, erratic, tempestuous, difficulty resisting temptation, spiteful, fearless to the point of harming herself, self-righteous, judgmental, vengeful, violent, manipulative, hypocritical

personality overview

lily is known for her liveliness and her energy. the girl can’t stand being bored, and sitting around doing nothing frustrates her more than anything. most of the gryffindors view her as fun, but her idea of fun doesn’t align with everyone. she likes excitement and adventure. she’d take a swim in the lake when it’s freezing cold outside; she’d drink until she’s completely wasted; she’d set off fireworks in the great hall with her friends; she’d even explore the forbidden forest at night if she’s bored enough.

she’s also known for her quick wit and sense of humor, always ready with a comeback. her favorite teachers call her cheeky, while her least favorite call her a troublemaker. she’ll mouth off to anyone, consequences be damned, and it’s earned her a fair amount of detention sentences over the years. she just can’t help it but sass most of the time. it’s almost a defense mechanism, a way for lily to deflect.

lily knows how to lie, and admittedly, she’s very often dishonest. but she knows how to persuade. she speaks with conviction, her voice unwavering as she spins her webs, a stellar actress. she’s not pathological, but there’s a lot she likes to keep to herself. a lot of weakness and vulnerability that she doesn’t like to share with just anyone. at times, lily is so talented at lying that she is capable of deluding herself, burying some things that she doesn’t care to admit so far in the cobwebs of her mind that the denial becomes subconscious.

she has the heart of a lion. fierce, bold, and strong, lily’s the type of person you’d want beside you in a time of crisis. she’s a textbook gryffindor, ready for a fight and nearly impossible to scare. the girl could be considered too brave; her unwavering courageousness could easily get her killed someday. things that should terrify any sane person, such as bloodthirsty death eaters or hungarian horntails, never scare her. lily is recklessly dauntless, and she’s proud of it. there is nothing she values about herself more than her bravery. if you want lily to go berserk, all you have to do is call her a coward.

lily isn’t afraid to say what she thinks or stand up to people. she’s blunt and outspoken–sometimes harsh – always feeling the need to express her opinion. to make matters worse, she’s very argumentative and steadfast on her beliefs; she could debate for hours about something. in fact, lily actually enjoys arguing and debate, sometimes even picking fights with blood elitists and slytherins merely due to boredom, provoking them for no reason other than craving combat. incredibly hot-tempered, she’s usually fighting with someone about one thing or another and isn’t afraid to resort to violence if her point isn’t coming across.

there is a softer, kinder side to lily behind all her bravado though. she isn’t exactly nice, but she is caring and selfless. and she isn’t inherently cruel. she’d never hurt someone on purpose unless they didn’t absolutely deserve it in her opinion ( though she’s been wrong before on so many occasions ). she’s passionate, loyal, and protective about the things and people that she loves. she would sacrifice her life for someone she cares about in a heartbeat. she has a weakness for heroics, feeling a need to save people and fix everything, carrying the world on her shoulders. this is, of course, unreasonable, but she believes she has to be that way because of the family she comes from. from day one, she has had expectations placed on her because she’s a potter, and rather than fight them, she feels the need to live up to them. she feels as if the world is expecting her to be a hero because her family is so respected and moral. these expectations and complexes of hers are what drives lily.

she is a perfectionist. lily is constantly pushing herself past her limits and often tries to do far more than what she is capable of. lily refuses to stop and rest, and she’ll continue to refuse until the day she dies. she stays up too late to maintain her near-perfect grades. she practices for quidditch nearly every morning. she pours over her dada textbooks for hours on end so that she’ll win every duel in dueling club. lily is competitive and feels the need to be the best because her insecurities cause her to worry that she isn’t good enough, that she’ll never be good enough. it’s self-induced pressure–no one places unrealistic expectations on the girl but herself. in actuality, people may expect lily to be brave and heroic like her parents, but no one expects her to be the best at everything, and she puts most of the pressure on herself due to her own insecurities. it’s only lily who thinks she isn’t good enough, and one of her biggest flaws is her tendency to compare herself to other people rather than seeing herself as her own person. people who are better than her are often met with green, envy rattling in her core, as much as she tries to ignore it.

even though she appears completely fearless to most, lily is actually only almost devoid of fear, not that she would ever admit she was anything less than dauntless. she rarely ever speaks of emotions of fear in front of other people, pretending that nothing fazes her. she doesn’t want anyone to know that she can be scared or weak sometimes. she’s a gryffindor and a potter, so as far as she’s concerned, she’s not allowed to be. lily is expected to be strong and fearless, just like her parents, so that’s what she claims to be whereas, in reality, she can be afraid just like any other person; she’s just good at hiding things. the thought of losing people she cares about absolutely terrifies her, especially with the war. along with that, she has always felt pressure to be great; lily has spent her whole life worrying whether or not she’s good enough due to her family’s achievements. just like her father, she’s always felt the need to be a hero. lately she’s been afraid that she isn’t doing enough to help the order, that her dad would be ashamed of her if he was still alive. that’s one of the reasons why she’ll try to push her outlandish ideas on mcgonagall’s army members even though she knows deep down that she’s suggesting suicide missions.

it’s frightening, really, how much little regard she has for her own life. her self worth is nonexistent in the scheme of things. she’ll fight nail and tooth to live but only because she wants to be there to protect her loved ones; she sees her life as second to theirs. if she thought she could help bring about the end of the war by dying, if there was even the slightest possibility of saving those she views as good, lily would do it in an instant. without thinking. because lily truly believes that her loved ones would get over it, maybe not at first but eventually. and she’s okay with that. she’d want them to move on with their loves, to stop mourning her and find happiness. for lily, there is no better way to go than to go down fighting. to go down while defending her loved ones and her beliefs.

but if she lives through the war, lily plans on becoming an auror, just like her father. it’s just what she’s always wanted to do. again, the girl has a hero complex. and her ambition is great–she wants to be the youngest auror ever accepted into their department and one day make her way up to head auror. lily believes her true calling in life is on the battlefield, protecting the innocent and bringing justice to the world.

lily is a control freak–bossy, domineering, and assertive. losing control is her greatest fear, so she’d never let anyone get the best of her. lily always needs to do something because that’s how she finds control in her own destiny. it always takes time to earn her trust because she fears betrayal and manipulating, causing her to be naturally suspicious of others’ intentions. she’ll fight like hell when others get in the way of her plans; her fear of losing control doesn’t allow her to adapt to change easily. when her father died, she felt weak and powerless, wishing she could just bring back, wishing that she could just do something, anything; her worst fear became a reality, and she swears she is never going to allow herself to feel that way again. she will never be vulnerable again. she will never lose control again. oddly enough, even though she’s been surrounded by love her entire life, she’s even afraid of falling in love for those very reasons. the thought of falling for someone who may or may not love her back, allowing herself to be that vulnerable in front of someone, has always scared her more than she would care to admit. lily needs to feel safe, and being in love with someone who could break your heart is something only fools would do in her opinion.

lily won’t admit to sadness or heartache either, not wanting others to think less of her. through sheer willpower alone, the girl has not cried since she was six though there have been moments where she wished she could allow herself to, such as her father’s funeral. when she saw her father in that casket, she felt like knives were in her ribs, and all she wanted to do was run back to her home, cry, grab a beater’s bat, and destroy all the objects in her home one by one, but her face looked stoic. when asked, lily claims that she’s completely all right about her father’s death, and most believe it. she’ll barely ever talk about him at all. it’s like she isn’t even mourning. there are subtle nuances that she is though. her smile and laugh are more demure than it was before. she’s even more fiercely protective of her family and friends now, and her weakness for heroics has also increased; she’ll go to great lengths to protect and save others with little regard for her own safety. it’s partly because she wants to make her father proud by being brave and partly because she doesn’t value herself much as a person due to her insecurities.

but ironically, even though she hides her emotions the majority of the time, she is consumed by them. they control and drive her, often even to the point of recklessness. logic falls on deaf ears to this girl, making her much more likely to make mistakes and get into trouble. she has a good brain on her shoulders and should know better than to act without thinking, but she doesn’t. lily’s impulsive, reckless, and impetuous, mostly relying on pure instinct. and she’s as stubborn as a mule as well. it’s very hard to convince her not to do something once her mind is set. and bare nerves, stubbornness, and recklessness is a dangerous combination–a mixture not usually found in those who like to live long lives. lily is aware of how foolish she can be, but she just doesn’t care. as far as she’s concerned, if something’s the right thing to do, it’s the right thing to do, regardless of the possible consequences.

but here’s the problem: she’s so often wrong. her black-and-white and self-righteous beliefs are so instilled in her that she can’t see the bigger picture. she can’t recognize that the population isn’t capable of being sorted in categories of good and evil. she doesn’t see shades of grey, judging others by their actions and beliefs regardless of the circumstances. death eaters are not seen by lily as people–only monsters incapable of human emotion. whenever she looks at a death eater, all she can see is her father’s dead face. she doesn’t know who was responsible, so instead she blames them all. she hates them all so intensely that she is blind to the fact that expectations are placed on those from traditionalist families too. and most of all, she doesn’t realize that the other side is just as capable of loving others to the point of consumption as she is. and they should be feared for that.

describe your character through a particular weather temperament or season. / could your character be described in two rival parts, and if so, what would they be? / ( +bonus: if your character could choose their own form of death, what would it be? )

i. lily luna potter was born at the height of summer, on a muggy august night, and as such, she truly embodies every aspect of the season. she’s the unrelenting sun beating down on you — she is always burning burning burning, and she’s impossible to put out. everything she chooses to do is carried out with a tremendous intensity and passion, almost as though she is pouring her entire heart into it, and perhaps she really is. (”they told me to pour my heart into everything i do. so that’s what i did, i poured and poured and poured. now they ask me why i’m so empty.”) when she’s determined to accomplish something, nothing else matters in that moment. she’s overpowering, a girl with the capability to set the whole damn world on fiendfyre if she wanted to. she’s just so much all at once — too much, really. she’s been told that by exes before, that she’s just too much for them, and lily always responds, her voice so piercing it could slit a throat, “or maybe you’re just not enough.” even when she’s cold, it’s with this ferocity that still manages to burn you to the core.

lily can’t ever be any other season than summer, but sometimes she wishes she could be. she longs for the rebirth of spring, the balance of autumn, the chill of winter. but she’ll always burn like summer.

ii. lumos – a fire-haired girl who dons robes of scarlet and gold, as striking as a beacon of light / the family legacy you swore to protect / brain and nerve and bounding heart / a deafening roar of laughter after a brilliant joke / being so incredibly drunk you’re as giddy as a toddler, the life of the party / shielding young girls as though you are the mighty huntress artemis / a magnificent silver phoenix burst from the tip of your wand, summoned by the many faces of your family / the indescribable solace found from wrapping your arms tightly around your big brother, not ever wanting to let go / the callow little girl within yourself that you couldn’t quite manage to kill, a girl who wished on shooting stars and cried during thunderstorms

nox – a meadow of wildflowers wilting away / the fury deep within your core that burns like dragon fire, threatening to consume you / a memory you’ve tried to bury deep within the crevices of your mind, a memory you’d rip from your skull if you could / swearing off love because what good is it anyway / clenched fists so tight that your red, red nails bite crescent moons on your palms / the glorious burn of your muscles during a seething fight / a thunderous cry for retribution, even if it means destroying yourself in the process / feeding into your rage because if you falter for just a moment, you’ll remember just how hollow you are / a ruinous lightning storm encased within a pint-sized girl

iii. she can’t ever picture herself dying quietly. whenever the veil inevitably comes to shroud her, she will take her sharp nails and try to tear it into shreds – she is a forest fire that refuses to snuffed. rage is all she knows, all she’s good at. her beloved cypress wand bears a reminder she carved in runic scripture: “never give up without a fight.” and lily never will. she will struggle and struggle and struggle before they take her.

it’s not that the prospect of death petrifies her. there have been cold nights where she feels hollow and so very small, and she thinks about how she doesn’t want to die – no, she doesn’t want to die – but still she would appreciate the rest, the quietness, the peace. it had been her own father who had sat her down at age six, her very first taste with death (her great-great aunt muriel finally decided to fucking croak) and bestowed upon her the wise words of albus dumbledore just before they left for the funeral, “do not pity the dead. pity the living.” and oh, she does. lily is just sixteen years old, and she’s already so exhausted.

no, she’s not petrified of death, but rather petrified of what she’d leave behind: a family she treasures more than anything. lily doesn’t place much value in her own life. she ultimately views herself as just a person and not a very good one at that, but still she will fight until her dying breath. she will do it for them – all this struggle is for their sake. she needs to stick around to protect them.

but of course, if she could die to save someone she loved, she would do it in an instant. lily’s loyalty is hard-won, but once it’s earned, there isn’t anything she won’t do for you. so that’s how she’d choose to die, fighting but fighting for something – or someone – worth dying for. on those cold hollow nights when she’s wondering what it’s all for, she has to remind herself that it’s for them.

she might not matter, but they do.

drabble

lily luna potter – the woman, the myth, the legend. the only daughter of the chosen one, the world hailed her as a figure of hope from the moment she was born, waiting with baited breath to see what she will go on to accomplish. lily’s so beguiling she could be the sun – she never manages to dim. she’ll lull you to a stupor when she struts past, as ostentatious as ever, and you’ll be rendered gormless in her wake. she’ll leave you wondering whether she’s a dream or a nightmare, but that’s the very point, isn’t it? you laud her as your hero, thrust her with expectations she could never live up to, and when she seems to rise to the occasion, you forget. you forget that she is just a teenager, not a blinding sun or a sharp crack of lightning or a ruinous earthquake, but a girl who’s barely sixteen. a girl who’s lost more than you could ever imagine. children should never be viewed as metaphors, but from the second she came into this world, it was already too late.

/ / /

self-righteous but vindictive, girlish but bloodthirsty, idealistic but cynical, emotional but hardened, tender but acrimonious, coquettish but closed off, well-intentioned but wicked, fiery but icy, radiating but deathly – lily is a girl of contradictions and paradoxes. she possesses so many opposing traits that it’s difficult to make sense of her. with her full face of makeup and voguish outfits, she is ever so carefully put together, but it only serves to hide the storm raging underneath her skin. her countenance is a purposeful illusion – she doesn’t want you to see the red scars on her skin or the dark circles underneath her eyes. everybody is always watching her, so she must look her best. but there’s more to it, isn’t there? he always used to tell her she wore too much makeup, and since breaking up with him on the cusp of her fourth year, she has never stepped outside without a full face. it’s a permanent two-fingered salute. “fuck you, i’m beautiful.” but why does she feel so ugly and mangled?

/ / /

on some days, she burns as bright as a brush fire, incinerating everything in her path. but on others, she’s as hollowed out as a glacier cave, the coldness seeping inside her body, freezing over her heart – those days, nothing and no one can really touch her. somehow, she always fluctuates between passion and numbness, a vicious cycle she can’t seem to control. lily either feels so intensely or feels absolutely nothing at all, and she’s not quite sure which is worse. when her emotions are tearing her apart, she longs to shut them off, but once they’re gone, she’ll do anything just to feel something again. how can she be so passionate yet so hardened at the same time? sometimes she misses the bitter tang of tears, the sweet release – it’s been ten long years since she’s allowed herself to cry. but she won’t allow herself to be weak again. she’s come too far. perhaps it really is best to have a heart that’s forgotten how to beat; dead hearts can’t break.

/ / /

she’s furious and she’s bitter and she’s tired. she’s so goddamn tired. it’s always so exhausting to be her. some days, she wonders what is the point of it all. why does she keep struggling when all she wants to do is lay down her weary arms, close her eyes, and rest? but she knows she can’t. she was born to fight – that’s all she knows how to do at this point. so she will soldier on.

#YEET #this is not her intro lmao #it's just here in case u ever wanted to be overloaded with information lmao #( &. oh but she burns like rum on a fire | ABOUT. )

6 notes · View notes

ourmrmel · 5 years

Text

Mel Feller MPA, MHR, Looks at Stupid Mistakes that First Time Business Owner Make

Mel is the President/Founder of Mel Feller Seminars with Coaching for Success 360, Inc. and Mel Feller Coaching. Mel Feller is an Innovator and Business Leader. Mel Feller currently maintains an office in Texas. Mel is currently an MBA Candidate.

Having been a non-employee for about 44 years now, I have made my share of stupid business mistakes. I have also coached a number of people to start their own businesses, and I have seen many of them make similar mistakes. This advice is geared towards small business owners, particularly people who are just starting or about to start their own business.

Selling to the wrong people.

While sales are important to the survival of any business, you do not need to push your business on everyone you meet, including friends and family. Furthermore, it is a waste of time to try selling to people who simply do not need what you’re offering.

Selling to the wrong people includes trying to sell to everyone. Some customers are much easier to sell to than others are. For example, my friend does web consulting for small businesses, and he has learned that some clients are much harder to work with than others are. If a potential customer is broke and obsessively worried about every nickel they spend, if they want a web site but do not know why, or if they simply do not understand the Internet well enough, they will not be a good client in the end. Feel free to say no to customers that are more trouble than they are worth. Let your competitors sell to them instead. You will save yourself many headaches, and you will free up more time to focus on serving the best customers.

Just because someone is interested in doing business with you does not mean you should accept. In my first year in business, I probably said yes to at least 50% of the people who approached me with a potential business relationship. I wasted many time pursuing deals that were too much of a stretch to begin with. I accepted lunch invitations from random business people who just wanted to “see if there’s a way we could do something together.” Virtually none of them made me a dime. If you think a meeting is pointless, it probably is. Do not network with random people just because you think you are supposed to network. Today I accept such invitations less than 1/10 as often. If an offer does not excite me right away, I usually decline or ignore it. Most relationships simply are not worth pursuing. Learn to say no to the weak opportunities so you have the capacity to say yes to the excellent opportunities.

Spending too much money.

Until you have a steady cash flow coming in, do not spend your precious start-up cash unless it is necessary. In 1998, I started this personal development business with only $9 cash even though I could have spent much more on it. No fancy logo, no snazzy web design, no business cards or stationery. I paid to register the domain name, and that was it. That is as much as I was willing to spend before I started generating a positive cash flow. All other business expenditures came out of that cash flow.

Your business should put cash into your pocket, so before you “invest” money into it, be clear on how you are going to pull that cash back out again.

Obviously, some businesses require lots of cash to start, but in the age of the Internet business, you can very easily start a lucrative business for pocket change.

Spending too little money.

It is also a mistake to be too stingy with your cash. Do not let frugality get in the way of efficiency. Take advantage of skilled contractors who can do certain tasks more efficiently than you can. Buy decent equipment when it is clear you will get your money’s worth. You do not have to overspend on fancy furniture, but get functional furniture that helps you be more productive. Do not use an antiquated computer with outdated software that slows you down if you can afford something better.

It takes time to develop the wisdom to know when you are being too tight or too loose with your cash, so if you are just starting out, get a second opinion. Often the very thought of getting a second opinion makes the correct choice clear. If you cannot justify the expenditure to someone you respect, it is probably a mistake. On the other hand, there are situations where it is hard to justify not spending the cash.

Putting on a fake front.

Many one-person businesses refer to themselves as “we.” That is something many new entrepreneurs do, but it is not necessary. There is nothing wrong with a one-person business, especially today. My personal development business has mostly been an I over the years. It is perfectly OK to refer to your business as an I when you are the only one working in it. Pretending that you are a we when you are really an I is a bit silly. It is not going to gain you any respect in a way that matters. Promoting yourself, as an I may even be an advantage today, since people will know the buck stops with you, and if you make a promise, you are the one who will carry it out. Promises from a we sometimes are not worth very much.

If you’re a newly self-employed person, don’t pretend you’re anything else. Price your products and services fairly for your level of skills and talents. Some newly self-employed people think they must become actors. The business they promote to the world is pure fantasy. Trying to fool your customers in this manner will only backfire. If you are so desperate for business that you need to lie, you should not be starting your own business. If you cannot provide real value and charge fairly for it, do not play the game of business. Develop your skills a bit more first.

Assuming a signed contract will be honored.

I have made this mistake more than I care to admit. I have had signed contracts with supposedly reputable corporations, and they were not worth squat when the CEO decided he wanted out of the deal, even for completely dishonorable reasons. Sure, I was in the right, but did I want to go to court to enforce it? No, I would rather continue doing meaningful work.

A signed contract is just a piece of paper. What is behind a signed contract is a relationship. If the relationship goes sour, the contract will not save you. The purpose of a contract is to clearly define everyone’s roles and commitments. However, it is the relationship, not the paper, which ultimately enforces those commitments. When I understood this, I focused more on relationships and worried less about what was on paper, and my business deals went much more smoothly. Once you start falling back on the paper, the deal is already in trouble. Creative (and lucrative) business deals usually stray from the paper contracts that represent them. One of my attorneys, who had worked on dozens of game development deals, told me that no deal he worked on ever followed the contract exactly; most were not even close. In addition, these were big money deals in many cases. Business relationships are similar to other personal relationships they twist and turn all over the place.

Written contracts are still necessary, especially when dealing with larger corporations where people come and go, but they’re secondary to relationships. Just don’t make the mistake of assuming that the contract is the deal. The contract is only the deal’s shadow. The real deal is the relationship. Keep your business relationships in good order and you won’t have to worry so much about what’s on paper.

It is sad but true that there are loads of scoundrels in business. Many of them hold titles like CEO, President, and CFO. There are indeed people out there who seem to care about nothing but money, and they will lie, cheat, and steal to get it. But there are plenty of others to whom the word honor has no meaning.

Going against your intuition.

Intuition is just as important in business as it is in other settings. You would be amazed at how many gigantic corporate deals are green-lighted or red-lighted because of some CEO’s gut feeling. While you might think that logic is the language of business that is far from reality. If you base all your business deals on hard logic and ignore your intuition, most likely you will be in for a world of hurt.

We humans aren’t very logical to begin with. We simply don’t have enough data to make truly logical decisions because business deals depend on human beings, and we don’t have a logical system for accurately predicting human behavior. Not being able to predict how other humans will behave is a pretty big gap in our logic. And intuition has to fill that gap. The real performance of human beings is what makes or breaks business deals. However, to assume everyone will perform as expected is unrealistic in the extreme. No deal ever goes perfectly.

It’s hard to say no to a deal that seems juicy by the numbers when my gut is saying, “You’ll regret it,” but more often than not, I later see evidence my intuition was right all along. Sometimes I just get a bad read on someone, and then years later, several people I know are complaining about being ripped off by that person.

Intuition is a critical part of the decision-making process in business. Since business deals depend on relationships, you need to get a read on the other people involved in any deal you consider. If you get a bad read, walk away. If you get a good read, proceed with caution.

Being too formal.

I will say it again. Business is built on relationships. In some settings, a certain degree of formality is appropriate, but in most business, situations being too formal only gets in the way. Business relationships work best when there is a decent human-to-human connection behind them.

I think it’s a mistake to be too formal even when looking to establish new business relationships. If someone mails me a letter that starts with “Dear Mr. Feller” and then goes on to explain a long-winded business proposal, I’ll usually just trash it, especially if it uses the word “we” a lot. Better to fire off an email with a “Hi Mel,” and just ask me very informally if I’m interested in the kind of arrangement you’re seeking. It saves time and opens the door to a real human relationship. Human beings do not want to build relationships with faceless corporations. They only want relationships with other human beings.

Treat your business relationships like friendships (or potential friendships). Formality puts up walls, and walls do not foster good business relationships. No one is loyal to a wall except the one in China.

Formality is boring and tedious. People want to enjoy their work. If someone address me like a computer, I will respond in kind by hitting delete. However, if someone demonstrates they have a real personality and a good sense of humor, a connection is far more likely.

Sacrificing your personality quirks.

In the early years of running my personal business, I took myself too seriously and assumed that I had to act “businesslike”whatever that meant. Being self-employed was a weighty responsibility, and other people were counting on me. Sink or swim, right?

I started my games business in my early 30s, and people in their early 20s to 30s are invariably weird. However, I assumed that as a business owner, being weird was not appropriate or acceptable. So most of my business letters and emails looked like they were written by the same people who created fancy marketing pieces. The job title of “President” really went to my head. I learned how to function without a personality.

It took a number of years, but eventually I became comfortable just being myself, especially after my personal development business became profitable. Now that I’m also blogger, my personality quirks and unusual experiences are strengths. My personal oddities give my blog a unique flavor. If I were to take myself too seriously and write more formally, my blogs would be very dull and would likely lose much of its audience.

It is perfectly OK to be your own weird self and to inject your own unique spirit into your business, especially if you are in your teens or 20s. Do not be afraid to be more like Steve Jobs was and less like Steve Ballmer. Do not pretend to be something you are not. Ultimately, you’ll enjoy your work much more if you attract the kinds of customers and partners that want to work with you for who you are warts and all. Send the people who only want to work with androids to your corporate competitors. They deserve each other.

If other people cannot handle your weirdness, too bad for them. Focus your energy on the people who can.

Failing to focus on value creation.

It is easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the purpose of a business is to make money. However, the real purpose of a business is to create value. While it is possible to make money in the short run without creating much value, in the end it is unsustainable. Even criminal organizations have to create value for someone. When you know your business is just sucking value away from others without providing anything in return, it will erode your self-esteem, and the business will not be much fun to run.

Why does your business exist? It exists to provide some sort of value, for both you and your customers. The better you understand what value you are trying to provide, the better you will be able to focus. The basic value provided by my games business was cerebral entertainment. The basic value provided by Mel Feller is personal growth. Too often business owners are not clear on what value they are trying to provide. They just sell stuff and hope for the best. That is a lousy business model. The world does not need more selling or more stuff. However, it always needs and wants genuine value creation, and that is where you should direct your efforts.

Failing to optimize.

Although value creation is essential to a sustainable business, it is equally naive to assume you can simply focus on creating value, and the rest will take care of itself. You may build a business that provides good value but loses money. As a business owner, you need to find a way to deliver your value in a cost effective manner. Most likely your first attempt will be very suboptimal. You will waste too much time, money, and resources trying to produce and deliver your value. That’s OK though. Many businesses start out that way. Just do not let yours stay that way.

Once you have a particular business process in place, pull it apart and re-optimize it from time to time. Look for ways to make it more efficient. Can you get it done in less time? At less cost? Can you do it less frequently? Can you outsource it? Can you dump the process altogether?

Don’t fall into the trap of using archaic methods for doing routine tasks that could be automated, including inventory management, billing, accounting, order processing, communications, and marketing. If you find yourself doing the same repetitive tasks month after month, make sure you put some effort into optimizing them. Not optimizing is like throwing time and money down the drain. It is often much easier to save time and money than it is to create them.

An Internet business has abundant opportunities for optimization because it is so easy to try new things and measure the results. In the first year after launching this site, I experimented quite a bit with Google Adsense. Adding the donations page was another optimization. Some people click ads, some people donate, and some do both. Therefore, even though value creation is the primary aim of the business, this is still a for-profit business and needs to generate income in order to be sustainable. If I do not eat, I do not work. More money means more resources for ongoing value creation. Therefore, value creation and optimization go hand-in-hand.

It takes significant effort to build a successful business, but it is also a tremendous growth experience. I know many people who have quit their jobs to run their own businesses. Many of them did not do as well as they had hoped, but I do not know any that regretted taking the plunge. There is simply no substitute for holding the reins of your own destiny.

Mel Feller, MPA, MHR, is a well-known real estate, business consultant, personal development consultant and speaker, specializing in performance, productivity, and profits. Mel is the President/Founder of Mel Feller Seminars with Coaching for Success 360, Inc. and Mel Feller Coaching, a real estate and business specific coaching company. His three books for real estate professionals are systems on how to become an exceptional sales performer. His four books in Business and Government Grants are ways to leverage and increase your business Success in both time and money! His book on Personal Development “Lies that Will Sabotage Your Success”. Mel Feller is located in Texas.

0 notes

rhnuzlocke · 7 years

Text

Episode 19

Scene 9:

[It is a bright, clear evening, though not as striking as the one before it. Sootopolis bay is still mirror of the sky, reflecting the first few starts as they emerge. Roma swims silently through it, cutting the surface like a blade. She pulls up to the island in the middle of the bay and Ren disembarks. The small, domed island is just barely large enough to accommodate the gym and an elegant manor house. Ren walks up to the house and stops at the door. She looks up at the fancy molding around the doorway and then down at her outfit. It is a little nicer than what she wears most of the time, but maybe not quite fancy enough for the occasion. She shrugs and sends out Tāraki before knocking on the door. Wallace opens it and true to her fears he is impeccably dressed.]

Wallace: Welcome! [waving her inside] Come in. [calling down the hall] The guest of honor is here! [leading her and Tāraki down the hall] Any idea where Senri is?

Ren: Oh, no, I haven’t—

[Ren is cut off by raucous applause and cheers as they enter a large parlor. Ren freezes in the doorway and flushes at the overwhelmingly warm greeting. Most of the Hoenn League and their pokemon are already there, sitting on couches and chairs or scattered about the room. The coffee table in the middle is full of drinks as are the side tables. Wallace strides in past her and picks his drink up off the table. The others follow his example and everyone raises their glasses high.]

Wallace: To Ren!

All: To Ren!

[Steven catches her eye and smiles at her over the rim of his glass and Ren goes a deeper shade of red.]

Wallace: And to not being dead yet!

[That gets a couple chuckles and they all drink.]

Wallace: [to Ren] Can I get you anything?

Ren: [a bit shell-shocked] Do you have plum wine?

Wallace: Somewhere, I’m sure. Just give me a moment.

[Wallace disappears down a flight of narrow stairs in the back corner. Ren glances around and is somewhat comforted to find that besides Steven, who is practically always in a suit anyway, no one else is particularly dressed up. There is an empty space on the couch next to Steven and Ren takes it. Meanwhile Tāraki goes to drink from the huge bowl of sangria set out for the pokemon. He slides in next to Roxanne’s kabutops and strikes up a conversation. Steven’s excadrill shuffles over and joins in. Winona withdraws the shiny swellow perched on her shoulder and sends out Māia. The taillow spots her former teammate right away and flies over to him, landing on top of his head. After the initial fright, Tāraki is quite pleased to see her and his tail sways back and forth, almost tripping a passing shiftry.]

Steven: How are you?

Ren: Okay, I guess… [Ren glances around again, but no one is looking at her, instead talking amongst themselves] A lot better actually. This is just a little weird. How are you?

Steven: Much recovered. And don’t worry about them. We’re all trainers here, so we’re all more than a little eccentric.

Roxanne: Truer words were never spoken. [She perches on the coffee table in front of them.] And I’m including myself, obviously. I can’t believe you two got to see the inside of the Cave of Origin. What was it like, geologically I mean? Wallace won’t tell me a single thing and I’ve been grilling him for years.

Steven: [face lighting up] It was incredible, like no place I’ve ever seen. I can say for certain that Rosenthal’s hypothesis is true.

Roxanne: What?!

Steven: It’s obviously a lava tube but an ancient one. There is limestone coming through every crack.

Roxanne: So it must have sunk at some point.

Steven: [nodding vigorously] For millennia! [motioning with his hands] Then the whole island got pushed back up again and the new volcano erupted right over top of it! And this cave survived!

Roxanne: No!

Steven: Yes!

Roxanne: You have to talk to Wallace again. We need samples. We need them!

Steven: Believe me, I’m working on it.

Roxanne: [gasp] What about all of those quakes yesterday?! Do you think…?

Steven: No! No. It’s damaged sure, but not collapsed.

[Roxanne slumps in relief and Ren smiles as she watches the two of them yammer back and forth. Māia flies over and lands on Ren’s shoulder.]

Ren: Hey Māia!

Māia: [rubbing against Ren’s cheek] I’m so happy you’re okay! I fought Groudon too with Winona before they got to Sootopolis! Boomburst-ed ’em right in the face for ya!

Ren: Hell yeah!

[Ren holds up her fist and Māia bumps it with her foot. Wallace returns with a glass of plum wine for Ren and hand it off. Steven and Roxanne both start talking to him at once.]

Wallace: [holding up a hand to silence them] Upp-up-up, no. This is a party and we are celebrating and we will not be discussing anything to do with my position as Lorekeeper at any point this evening and that is final. [They both scowl but say nothing. Wallace hands Ren her drink.] I’m sorry about them, they are absolutely incorrigible on this particular subject.

[He seems about to join them when the doorbell rings and he sweeps out of the room again. He returns with Senri, Kaspa and Dizzy and their ursaring, umbreon and ninetails respectively. Everyone who is sitting stands up to greet the Sekiei Champion.]

Senri: Sorry we’re late.

Kaspa: Thank you all. Please be at ease.

[Everyone goes back to what they were doing. Kaspa and her umbreon claim an armchair while Senri goes to sit next to his daughter on the couch. Kenta gives Ren a nuzzle before joining Tāraki. Dizzy sort of stands in the corner near the doorway looking as though he would rather not be present.]

Wallace: I’d like to take this moment to remind everyone that you may only have one pokemon out at a time and if I see Jeffrey even for an instant, you are getting thrown out of here faster than if you teleported.

[Ren turns, eyebrows raised, wondering who that comment was directed at.]

Steven: [explaining] Jeffrey is Pheebs’s sableye. He ate some of Wallace’s contest jewelry. Twice now as a matter of fact. I think Wallace might actually kill him and Pheebs if he ever does it again.

Roxanne: Honestly she’s lucky he lets her come to these things at all anymore.

Steven: Certainly she’s not invited more than is necessary.

Senri: [putting an arm around his daughter and giving her a squeeze] Happy birthday, kiddo.

[Māia flaps a few times, buffeting Ren, before switching shoulders so that she can have more space.]

Ren: Oh, uh, thanks. I sort of forgot.

Senri: Did you call your mother?

Ren: Yeah, of course.

Steven: Arceus, I completely forgot.

Ren: That’s okay—

Roxanne: [hissing] Senri! Why didn’t you say anything!

Senri: What?

Roxanne: [slapping his knee] You know I love you but you are completely impossible sometimes. [She gives him one last censuring look before shifting her attention back to Ren and smiling.] Happy birthday.

Ren: Thank you.

Roxanne: Give my best to Asuka next time you talk to her. I’m sure you already know this, but she is such an amazing writer. I just finished her book and to be perfectly honest it’s not my genre, but I was completely blown away. I want to read the one she’s working on now so badly. Maybe she’ll let me at it sometime.

Ren: Probably not until the first draft is finished, but it couldn’t hurt to drop some hints.

[Wallace comes back and hands Senri a drink before plopping down in the armchair to Steven’s right.]

Ren: Thanks for having us all over. Your house is very nice.

Wallace: Thank you. My mentor Juan—[gesturing with his margarita] he’s right over there— built it and the gym. There was just a little cottage on this island when he became Gym Leader. Of course, I have added on a little. Sorry if I caught you off guard with the toast. I figured it would be better to make it brief and get it out of the way.

Ren: That’s okay. Better actually.

Wallace: Has Steven been behaving? Other than his rock talk, I mean.

Ren: Very much so. The charm offensive is at a minimum.

Wallace: [laughing] That’s a nice word for it. I keep forgetting you’ve already spent a lot of time with our League Champion.

Ren: Yep. It’s been an experience.

Wallace: Well, as his friend let me just apologize for how much he has flirted with you.

Ren: What?

Steven: I didn’t—

Wallace: [rolling his eyes] Please darling, you flirt with everyone. [to Ren] Anyway, he doesn’t mean to. It’s like a nervous tick. He can’t help himself.

[Ren is trying to smile and trying not to blush and failing spectacularly at both. To top it off she can feel her father staring at her and Steven and she tries to sink into the couch.]

Wallace: [with a haughty smirk] Fortunately, some of us have a resistance to his charms.

Steven: [sipping his drink] Seemed to work on you just fine in university.

Wallace: [face dropping into annoyance] Below the belt, Steven.

Steven: I think that was more than fair, Rire.

Ren: [realization dawning] Wait, you’re Rire?

Wallace: Rire is my first name. I prefer to go by my last name, but Steven started calling me ‘Rire’ while we were dating and could never seem to break the habit. So I still call him ‘darling’ out of spite.

[A lot of things are starting to sink into place for Ren and her brain is pretty much in full panic mode, which shows on her face. Fortunately Tāraki comes over to deliver her.]

Tāraki: Hey Ren, Steven’s excadrill was saying we should maybe let Kōtai and his sandslash hang out for a while. I’ve already had a bunch of that great juice stuff and the kabutops showed me this awesome slicing technique, so I don’t really mind.

Ren: Okay. Sure thing.

[Tāraki waves goodbye to Māia as Ren withdraws him and sends out Kōtai. The sandslash looks a little puzzled until he sees Steven sending out his sandslash and he perks up. Kōtai winks at his trainer before shuffling over to talk to her. Tate and Lisa enter the room, clearly let in by someone else. Wallace gets up to greet them and Tate gives him a hug.]

Wallace: So glad you could make it. How are things? Have your students stopped misgendering you yet?

Tate: Yes. Or at least out loud.

Wallace: Well that’s something, I guess. [Wallace’s milotic slithers into the room followed by a politoed.] And that will be the food. Excuse me for a minute. Steven, come help me with this.

[Steven grumbles and gets up.]

Senri: I’ll give you a hand too.

[They all head out, followed by the politoed. The milotic stays behind, coiling himself up in a corner. Dizzy approaches him and starts a conversation, which Ren thinks is a little odd, especially when his ninetails, who she assumed was translating, gets up and goes to sit with Kaspa’s umbreon and the two continue speaking as if nothing happened. Ren decides she needs another drink and gets up. The twins take her place on the couch and start gabbing with Roxanne as Ren pours herself some more plum wine from the bottle Wallace left out for her. Pheebs and Sidney join her by the liquor cabinet, still in the midst of their own conversation and pour themselves shots. Ren watches them shotgun whatever it is and doesn’t notice Flannery walking up on her other side.]

Flannery: Hey Ren.

Ren: Hi.

Flannery: [looking a little nervous] I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t thinking—I just…

Ren: It’s totally fine. Brawly said it best: none of us were digging that situation. But it all worked out in the end, so let’s not worry about it anymore.

[Ren raises her glass and Flannery smiles as she clinks hers against it.]

Flannery: Happy birthday.

Ren: Thank you.

Sidney: Yeah, happy birthday. Which one is it?

Ren: My nineteenth.

Phoebe: Damn. You’re like an ovum.

Sidney: [grinning] Hey, you’re only a year younger than Flan. [smirking even wider] Fancy that.

Flannery: [flushing bright red] I have to use the restroom.

[She puts down her drink and flees.]

Ren: [watching her go, concerned] Is she okay?

Phoebe: Flannery? Oh yeah, she’s fine. She just had a major crush on you after that gym battle.

[Ren turns back to Phoebe and Sidney, eyes widening. They both do another shot and Sidney sways a little as he slams his glass back down on the table. He is clearly quite inebriated already, but Phoebe shows little evidence of being anything more than tipsy.]

Phoebe: [shrugging] She was trying to be subtle about it in the chat but—

Sidney: It was hilarious.

Phoebe: Completely transparent.

Sidney: And then Senri came on.

Phoebe: [cackling] And he was like: “just to clarify, you are interested in dating my daughter?”

Sidney: So Flan is scared shitless, right? And most of us have commented by this point, so we’re all culpable. Shit is very tense.

Phoebe: But Flannery is Asuna’s granddaughter, so she does the only honorable thing and admits to it.

Sidney: Even I am flipping my shit at this point.

Phoebe: [very matter of fact] You flip at everything. You’re the designated drama queen of this League.

Sidney: True.

Phoebe: [turning back to Ren] So then your father is just like: “well she’s never had an actual boyfriend or anything before, so she could easily be gay, but she hasn’t told me so I don’t actually know.” No “my daughter is off limits” or threats or any of that papa ursaring bullshit. Just: “my daughter hasn’t discussed her orientation with me, so by all means give it a go and see what happens.”

[Sidney is dying laughing and Phoebe chuckles quietly, clearly amused but in a more understated way. Ren has no idea how to respond except that she is blushing crimson.]

Glacia: [drifting into the circle] Ren’s lucky if you ask me. How is it Senri’s business anyway? When I was her age, my father was forever trying to scare off anyone who showed even the slightest interest. And did that stop me from getting embarrassing amounts of ass?

Phoebe: We all know the answer to that.

Glacia: No it didn’t. I would have been much better off if we could have just had a frank discussion on the subject instead of him insisting that I could never have sex with anyone ever.

[Phoebe is nodding.]

Glacia: [sarcastic] And yet, miracle of miracles, I was capable of making my own decisions and made it through just fine anyway.

Phoebe: So yeah, Ren, your dad is pretty chill. He’s not on that often, but it’s usually a good time.

Roxanne: [walking over] Pheebs, are you talking about the chat? The first rule of the chat is that you do not talk about the chat!

Phoebe: You’re the reason she already knows about it in the first place.

Roxanne: [whining] That was an accident!

Sidney: Oh! Tell us about that time that you were dating like five dudes at once and then they all wanted to take you to prom.

Phoebe: Classic Glacia.

[Ren looks as though her soul has flown out of her body and into another plane of existence as the others continue to talk around her.]

Glacia: [wistful] Hmm. I don’t really have the energy for that kind of thing anymore, but it was fun. Anyway, where to begin? First there was Chad, or maybe it was Scott first? Who can remember these things? I started going with them around the same time so it doesn’t really—

Roxanne: Not another one of your sexcapades, Glacia.

Glacia: They asked about it! You are free to listen and enjoy or not as you please.

Roxanne: But consider that Ren may not want to listen.

Glacia: Oh I’m sorry, dear. [pating Ren on the shoulder] You do look a little green around the gills. I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.

Ren: [squeaking] It’s fine.

Roxanne: Come, let’s wander over here for a bit. Sidney won’t be satisfied until he gets the rest of it out of her.

[Ren waves as Roxanne leads her away and catches sight of Sidney mouthing “thank you”. Roxanne walks over to join Brawly, who is leaning back against the wall with his hariyama.]

Brawly: Yo Ren! How’s it?

Ren: Pretty good.

Brawly: Does the grass dude still surf?

Ren: Every chance he gets.

Brawly: Awesome!

Ren: We actually found a pretty good spot north of Lilycove.

Brawly: Wailmer Bay, right? I’m a born and bred Dewford dude myself, but I’ll admit there’s some pretty nice waves to be had up there.

[They talk for a while and Roxanne brings Winona over to join in. After a bit, they wander over to the central coffee table to get food. Ren, Steven and Senri get into a discussion with Kaspa in Kantonese while Wallace splits his attention between the twins, Dizzy’s ninetails, and keeping half an eye on everything. Pretty soon everyone is in the middle of the room, eating and talking and laughing. Everyone is also drinking, except maybe Wallace and Dizzy, who mostly sticks to the corner with Wallace’s milotic. Sidney is predictably the first to give up on the vertical plane and lays down across Glacia, Phoebe and Steven on the couch. Ren is perched on the arm of the couch next to Steven and leaning back against him for support while Kaspa continues to talk to her and Senri, who has dragged a chair over to sit next to her. Flannery is sitting on the floor in front of the couch and she slumps over the coffee table with a big, exaggerated sigh.]

Flannery: [groaning] Women are just so pretty, you know?

Steven: [nudging her shoulder consolingly with his foot] I know.

Sidney: Steven! Show us your tattoo!

Steven: Why is it every time we get drunk together, you try and get me to take my clothes off?

Sidney: You know I’m not trying to get in your pants, man. Just under your shirt.

Steven: Mmhm.

Sidney: I wanna see it for the artistry! You’re all about looks so it has to be bitchin’. [appealing to the rest of the assembled] Like there is no way Steven’s tat is ugly. We all agree on this. Wallace has seen it. It’s bitchin’, right?

Wallace: Just accept the homoerotic subtext of this desire and move on. You’ll feel better.

Sidney: Alright. [he takes a deep breath, then chants] Take off your shirt! Take off your shirt! Take off your shirt!

Phoebe: [joining in] Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!

Steven: [shoving her] Knock it off! I’m not showing you all my tattoo.

Sidney: [whining] Whyyy noooot!

Phoebe: I can’t believe the man who took my title won’t even do me the slightest favor. I mentored you for a year.

Steven: First of all, you were required to. And second of all, you so completely did not.

Sidney: Come on, Steven.

Steven: It’s personal.

Phoebe: After all we’ve been through together?

Steven: Don’t start, or I’ll go there and you know where there is.

Phoebe: You’ve known me long enough that you should know you can’t shame me.

Sidney: Yeah, give it up. There is no shaming the Pheebs.

Steven: I am not taking my shirt off with the Sekiei League Champion sitting right there!

[Steven snaps his mouth shut, suddenly realizing that said Champion probably heard him. Fortunately for Steven, Kaspa is currently glaring at Wallace, who looks truly uncomfortable for the first time. Dizzy’s ninetails is pointedly looking away from him, slender snout in the air. Meanwhile, Sidney and Phoebe continue to badger Steven, undeterred, and Ren decides to intervene.]

Ren: Lay off him! [a little quieter] I want to see it as much as the next person, [vehemently] but it’s not cool to force him.

Steven: [laughing] Are you defending my honor right now?

Ren: [defiant] So what if I am?

Phoebe: [flatly] Steven’s the Champion.

Sidney: What are you gonna do?

Ren: Need I remind you all that I just defeated Groudon? I’ll take any of you! I’ll take you right now!

Sidney: [sitting up] Whoa! Them’s fightin’ words!

Flannery: Oh Arceus, I love you.

Lisa: [patting her on the back] That was audible, Flannery.

Flannery: You mean I thought so loud that you heard it?

Lisa: No, I meant it came out of your mouth.

Flannery: [staring into the abyss] Yep. That is my life.

[Lisa and Roxanne coax Flannery off the coffee table and she leans back against the couch between them. Her head lolls on Roxanne’s shoulder and she falls asleep. Glacia has vacated the couch in favor of an armchair where she sits talking to Juan, also in an armchair. Meanwhile Ren and Steven are still debating Phoebe and Sidney across the couch with Māia gesturing threateningly from Ren’s shoulder for emphasis. Brawly and Winona are sitting in front of the coffee table discussing something wind and wave related judging from the way Brawly is moving his hands. Wallace is back in his original chair across from them and deep in conversation with Tate. Kaspa and Senri have gone more or less quiet and are half listening. Kaspa looks over the gathering and gives a rare, soft smile.]

Kaspa: This is a good party. [She squints and looks around again.] Wait… Where is Dizzy?

1 note · View note