#and if you want to write a good fic/draw some good art that is loyal to the characters and realistic
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Hiiii 😭New in blog!
Do you have any tips/source in writing orcs?
Bc planning to do some bc got the spark your fics an inspiration 😩😩🙌
Halllooo! Welcome! 🥰 I started answering this question and it got so long 😭 I could honestly write an essay on this, there's so much to think about. So my candid thoughts are below 👇🏽
As far as pop culture goes: I generally like Durotan in the warcraft movie as my favorite Orc "look". I'm not too inspired by Tolkien's Orcs personally, but technically the DnD Orcs are based on that description. I started out basing my Orcs and half Orcs on the DnD races and elder scrolls online (orsimer are an orc like race) and then it grew into developing my own lore.
The DnD community is great because there are a lot of OCs to consider for reference and spin off games and lore, though (not saying you would, just for those who need to be reminded) you shouldn't steal other people's OCs. You can browse OCs on toyhouse and Pinterest, as well. Warhammer, Magic, and Warframe also have orc type characters to look at for character design ideas. Tolkien originally developed his Orcs from old English monsters, so that would be an interesting rabbit hole to jump down for inspiration.
Aside from the aesthetics there is a big pitfall to look out for when writing Orcs specifically:
Orcs started out as a villain race, but I find that extremely reductive. Orcs deserve culture, art, motives, and a spectrum of personalities. Tolkien's Orcs have been criticized as well as DnD rules about Orcs. I'm not going to do a deep dive into that because there is a lot to parse through. You can look it up if it interests you. There is far, far more discussion on it than I'm going to get into right now.
But my ultra, ultra simplified take away from what I've read is it's important to acknowledge the personhood of any character you write. And that's true for any writing really. Not to say you can't write an orc as a villain, but, for example, there is difference between writing a mindless killing machine and a villain with a personality, motive, strengths and weaknesses, and backstory if that makes sense.
If they are a mindless killing machine, there should be a reason other than Orc=bad. What happened to them to make them that way? Is there a societal expectation that they are trying to live up to? Do they have an internal struggle about it or do they feel justified for their violence? Are they under a spell or brainwashed? Why is that?
Villains are tricky because you want a satisfying ending, the villain may be complex, but they have to reach a point of no return where the hero has to act. So what was it that sent them off the edge? Vanity? Greed? Revenge? Etc.
Separate from Orcs it is a good way to look at all monster writing. As the counterpart to "born sexy yesterday" I think "born evil yesterday" is also kinda blah.
I'm not at all going to say I am great at this, it's often hard to create full, complex characters in short fiction but it's something to strive for. I'm sure I have characters on this blog I could have developed better, but I try to keep it in the back of my mind the more I learn about writing.
It's the same for an Orc hero. Orcs aren't dumb, malleable studs. I personally like expanding on Orcs canon skills (strength, loyalty, stamina, leadership) and flesh them out. Saber is strong, but he's also nimble and charming. Reven is big and can be scary, but is skilled in style and fashion, as well as being steadfast and loyal. Cedar is a warrior but studious and kind. Golmad loves weapons and is a leader but also gentle and good humored.
For visual ideas, I look at a lot of different styles and cultures, but it usually has a lot to do with the environment. I like to look at ye olde hairstyle and clothing ideas relevant to the place the Orcs are from, if that makes sense? Like if they lived in the artic you'd look for cultures that live in cold weather and draw inspiration from the materials they would have at hand for processing, sewing, and decorating.
In general, I tend to lean on more traditional depictions of mountain Orcs, but jazzed up? I don't like ripped, careless dirty rags, but clean, utilitarian and neatly cut leather and furs, as they are big hunters there rather than farmers. If they live in a village or town they'd wear whatever is in fashion, cotton or linen. Where are they from, their social class, and what types of clothes would be best for that environment are good questions to ask when developing costumes, next their personality. Whether they are vain, utilitarian, or cocky and like to roll around with their shirt off. 😸 I think keeping the environment and personality at the forefront of your mind, you won't fall into cliche traps. There's nothing wrong with having dirty ripped clothes but if it doesn't make any sense in the context of the world you're building it flattens the character. The assumption that Orcs are filthy or unskilled at tailoring by nature doesn't work for me.
Idk without going on too long, I hope some of that helps?
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As someone who is long-time fan of Mlp EG and who has just finished watching TFP, your fic is true delight. I read it 5 times at least and it is still awesome. You perfectly matched girls with their autobots partners just as well as you did with decepticons as their evil counterpart. For example Twilight/Shockwave - both have high inteligence, but while one uses it for greater good and to help the others, the other abuses it to gain power and hurt the others; Fluttershy/Soundwave - even thought they are both animal lovers and quiet types, FS is just very shy girl while SW is calculating sadist; Rainbow/Starscream - Apart from being queer icons (If you can look at these two without the word gay constantly entering your mind, congrats, you´re legit cishet) they´re actually pretty similliar in function and personallity wise. They´re both eccentric, aroggant showoffs and are also fastest on their team. But it´s their differences that are making them great foils. RD is impaitent hothead, who jumps straight into action without the second thought, while SC is great schemer, who has his plans planed out. RD is literally element of loyalty, while SC is mostly loyal to himself and etc. I can´t wait to see all their interactions in the future. If you´re interested in some writting advice, there is one minor thing that can be fixed : your description of characters feelings and thought. You start explaining how and why they feel that way instead of giving readers benefit of the doubt. The best term I can think of is that you are describing a picture. Like you want us to see, hear and understand everything at once. It creates unnecessary sentences or whole paragraphs without which some emotional moments would have sounded better. For example if paragraph in Ch.2 with sentence "She was too stuborn." it would have sounded so much better. Or sentences like "She was too precious." are also kind of waste of space since they don´t tell anything new.It´s not worst type of description,but it can create a feeling that you don´t trust youre readers to read from emotions characters alone. Many new writers and comic artists are often doing this. It can be solved 2 ways : by improving their writing or start drawing comics. I´m sorry if I confussed you in some way. I tried my best to explain it, but english is not my primary language. If you don´t mind, I would recommend fics from @whatwooshkai to see what I am talking about ( it´s mostly TF shipping stuff, but man, the writting is so good that I can´t stop reading even if I wanted to). Overall great story and art, just writting needs a little improvment.
I want to finish this already long post with few questions:
1.What is group dynamic with eachother? I mean in and outside of their decided pairings. I can see Sideswipe and Rainbow´s relationship as chaos siblings and that Rainbow is definitely driving Ratchet insane, but what about the others? I´m courious to know.
2.Did you already started writting the next book? If not, do you have planned when you will start?
3.Do you consider draw this as a full time comic or at least draw some parts of it? Or drawing some strips of your incorrect quotes?It´s just that you´re artstyle is so pretty and redesigns of the autobots and girls are great. It´s shame to see so little of them.
4. Did you thought about getting your comics dubbed on youtube?
5. Do you draw ideas from the asks from your followers on Tambrlane or you take commissions only? Like if they had a idea for a comic/sketch and they post it to you, would you draw it? If not, could they draw it with your redesignes?
6. What gave you idea for this crossover? My best guess is that comic from Hasbro.
Holy- I never thought I would get such a long ask.
*rolls up sleeves and rubs hands*
Okay, let’s do this!
First, I want to thank you so much for the kind words, the fact that there are people who got really interested in my fic makes my heart flutter. <3
And I really love it when readers point out small details that I haven’t thought about that much while writing! Thank you a lot for the advice and recommendations, I really appreciate it! I will keep that in mind!
Now, to answer your questions:
1. You are absolutely correct about Sideswipe and Rainbow’s relationship, in my opinion, they will be the best chaos siblings (I am 100% sure that most of the members will go insane because of their pranks) I could write more detailed headcanons for them and the others too.
2. The next book is nearly finished, I will make sure to post it at the beginning of January.
3. I will drop more art soon, promise! Sorry for the lack of content, I’ve been pretty busy for the past few months. But now I’m finally free and I will certainly start drawing again! I also have several ideas in mind for some parts of the next book.
4. I don’t mind my comics being dubbed as long as I’m credited and they’ve asked for permission.
5. Again, if I’m credited and asked for permission, there will be no problem for other artists to draw my redesigns. I don’t usually take requests and it really depends on my free time and motivation, but if I really like the idea that has been suggested, I would (probably) draw it.
6. Good guess! But actually no. I was really into this crossover way before Hasbro decided to make a comic of it. I’ve been into a lot of fandoms and reading crossover fanfics basically became like a hobby to me. I got a lot of inspiration after I accidentally stumbled upon some pretty good written Tf/Mlp fics, but it took me a lot of time to finally get enough courage and start writing my own. I’m more than thankful for the support and love that I was given through the years! It really motivated me to keep on going!
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I just realized what "The Amalgamation" reminds me of. The Slayer form in Baldur's Gate 3
Funny that it somewhat resembles it given I had the idea for two particular DDs I made to fuse into one being that was a giant version of a similar form. Just less surgical and more "magical".
While I'm here I wanted to say the design for it is sick. Body horror is my jam so this "little" guy was quite cool to see. Curious if you're gonna do a fic with them, would absolutely be down to read it if you did. A lot of the fics I read don't really incorporate the body horror elements of MD and it makes me a little sad since it's one of the things that drew me to the show. But I imagine you're quite busy with the Ghost Drone AU so I don't really expect it.
Also I might take a crack at drawing The Amalgamation but don't expect it to be too good. I may be able to draw horrors beyond human comprehension but limbs STILL get me. Like, how does the hand attach to arm, why are fingers so round...WHO DECIDED NECKS SHOULD BE LIKE THAT?!
I also considered drawing Beanie with one of my OCs but...almost all of them should NOT be within 500 miles of her. Two of them are literally The Boogeyman (even if Erik wasn't at one point) and the other two are loyal DDs. Yen would be sweet though, so maybe some art with them would work but I think they'd be too distracted by N's hot single dad vibes.
idk I just love your art and I want to pay tribute to it in some way because it's so awesome and super well made. Love what you're doing and hope you do well because of it!
(also sorry for the long ask I just started thinking stuff I wanted to say and putting it down)
Pal. Buddy. I absolutely LOVE writing nightmarish/horror sequences, I just don't often get a chance to flex that ability. You better believe that I'm planning on writing something about the Amalgamation! I even have a co-writer to help me with it... heheheh.
Don't worry, nothing's actually written yet. Those "excerpts" I posted were literally just me writing short little stories on the concept, seeing as I wanted to get them out of my brain... though, I may actively include them when I actually write about the Amalgamation? Too soon to say....
Also hey, don't worry if your art looks "bad" or "good!" So long as you make it, I'll love it either way! And don't worry, I love the lengthy ask! It was a delight reading all of your thoughts. :3
#Zeisty's Askbox#meanwhile n's either used to people being ''distracted by his hot single dad vibes'' because of the ghost drones#or he's too busy trying not to break down and act like he's fine to notice#ghost drone au#amalgamation au#don't forget about the body horror present in the n's a monster au... you don't think it was a peaceful transformation do you? :)
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Summer Winter Reading/Arting/Writing Tag ⛄
I was tagged by @writeouswriter @writernopal and @druidx so long ago that it was summer, but rather than wait a whole year, I'll just call this one the winter edition 😭 Thanks for the tags and your patience, you guys! <3
Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the winter.
Slightly boring answer, but I definitely want to crank out a serious amount of Invisible Girl draft 2 this winter! The tantalizing thought of having something concrete is at my fingertips and I cannot wait to see it through. :)
Recommend a book
An Ember In the Ashes by Sabha Tahir! This series is one of my favorites to reread, featuring a political fantasy set in an Ancient Rome inspired world. Tribal storytellers, mythical creatures, loyal sacrifices, highly skilled fighters, a world ending event or two, and more await you here!
Recommend a fic
Really?? Out myself here?? ...fine. 😂 Good Enough - Chapter 1 - SixOfProse - Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo [Archive of Our Own] <<a really fun look at some post canon for any Six of Crows fans out there...
Recommend music
Here's a few I've listened to recently:
Everywhere, Everything - YouTube -- Noah Kahan
Concerto in F - YouTube -- George Gershwin
Lauren Spencer Smith - Bigger Person (Lyric Video) - YouTube
Chet Baker - 04 - I Get Along Without You Very Well - The Best Of Chet Baker Sings HD1080 320 kbps - YouTube --Chet Baker
Share one piece of advice!
I feel like there's nothing I can say that hasn't been said already, but maybe don't stop moving. If you're stumped on what to write, open a different wip and work on that. If no words come, go craft/draw/create elsewhere. If you don't feel like creating, go read read read. The ideas have come before and they'll come again. They'll be back. 💛
I'd love to hear everyone's version of this, so if you see this post, consider yourself tagged <3 Also @avrablake @sleepyowlwrites @blind-the-winds @liv-is @outpost51 @ashen-crest @talesofsorrowandofruin?
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obligatory 2023 highlight reel 😤
This isn't by interaction metrics, but by how much I like them/how proud of them I am. Also, I tried to pick these to show some range lol
Fics:
Lost and Found - a fun little netteflix romp full of twists and turns and violence :)
Angels in the Architecture - going all the way back to Jan for this one! the angstiest of angsty netteflix
How Terribly Strange - fluff and romance ^-^ mostly netteflix, but some background dimimari!!
Art:
(list first, then the art)
tie between Lyn, emblem of blazing, and Felix, shield's successor - picked these ones for the "inked" art style, which I did quite a few of this year! most of my favorites from the year were actually in this style, but for variety's sake, I'm only including two lol
felix color wheel, i mean, this one is obvious, right? I think it really accurately represents my art style, down to the messy sketchy vibe and the overwhelming amount of Felixes lol
All-in-all, I think it was a good year for my art/writing, but there's always room to improve! I'll talk about my goals for 2024 below the cut. I'm including these mostly so I can have them clearly stated in one place for the sake of keeping myself on track ^-^
enormous thank you to yall for being so kind and supportive!!! this feels like a silly thing to say when there are like maximum 3 people actually reading this, but I really do appreciate you, my beloved friends and mutuals and all my fellow weirdos who live in my phone ❤️❤️❤️ Happy new year!
okay, sorry for getting sappy - i really do feel a little weird being like "thank you to my loyal fans 😌" LMAO
anyway, my goals for 2024 are mostly quality oriented - I want to spend more time on things in general so I don't feel like I'm just generating stuff for likes. specifically, I want to:
Do more full-color, complete illustration type pieces, setting a tentative goal of five. That doesn't sound like a lot, but I only made one in 2023, because I'm just not patient enough and get intimidated.
practice drawing a wider variety of poses and expressions. enough 3/4 busts/headshots! draw some bodies! draw someone other than felix!!
stay more focused on individual fics/spend more time on each one to keep the quality, style, and tone more consistent.
and, of course, I do want to draw more things for other games than fe3h, especially triangle strategy. I also want to write something for kentlyn (fe7).
We'll see how far I get with literally any of these goals, but my hope is that this post will at the very least keep me on track 🙃
okay that's all, love you bye!!!!
#fe3h#fe7#felix hugo fraldarius#annette fantine dominic#lyn fire emblem#netteflix#my art#my writing#2023 recap#fe3h fanfic#fe3h fanart#☕️🥧
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Hello! I wanted to thank you for being such a big lhs fan, hehe. For a long time, it did not seem like he got too much attention (lonely first writer of kdj/lhs on ao3 (but now the tag is a bit bigger!)) so seeing your art has been very enjoyable. I also find your sense of composition and imagery very beautiful! Thanks for making the lhs tag more exciting!
This. All of those nice things you written here... truly the best words a fan can receive from anybody, for real. (╥﹏╥) ❤️
I began to read orv not a while ago, only last autumn, but LHS caught my attention almost immediately: I just love this type of characters who are strong, big, kind, loyal (sometimes dog-coded hehe), but besides of this character features I adore his own story and arc. It may seem simple but I never thought simple=bad or worse than complicated stories since simple stories can be more heartcatching (◡ ω ◡)
And his story... Well, his story is quite catching and somehow relatable to me. Every single moment we saw his development in text he didn't just "evolved" like game-char with bigger stats but sometimes more of that. He was been becoming more... human, during all those arcs and with every other character, making the power of the orv's narrative only stronger.
LHS's change from reluctant soldier to a willing protector was a long way, but I saw it was inevitable (good for him). All moments he chose not to throw himself away for others but become stronger despite all pain... Well, this made me cry.
I recall the moment from Oz arc and dialog between LHS and his sponsor which made my cry for like half an hour:
Every single moment from this arc is precious. Idk if I have enough time to write a long ass post about how and for what i do love LHS, but the best I can do is drawing, even tho now it's hard thing to do. Drawing him helps me cope with war trauma i experiencing now (and maybe this was one of the thing why I love military character lol).
And I deeply appreciate your compliments. They gave me a smile and this tiny warm feeling in a heart that I surely will remember.
Can I please ask you to share your ao3 account? I've read every KDJ/LHS fic there (and even wrote some by myself, the only pity it's on ukrainian), but I'm not sure what are yours. Wanted to thank you for your work too!
P.S. I also have few spotify LHS-related playlists, adding it here
This are "classic" and 999th LHS playlist and somehow second happened to be better than first but still
Next ones are related to his dynamics with other characters. It may seem little romantic in some song choices but romance isn't main motive there
Once again thank you so much!!! Happy to know my art brighten your day (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+
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Hi! I hope it’s not too annoying of a request but I was wondering if you or your followers can think of any fics that are kinda inspiring academically, especially regarding British literature, if that makes sense? I just finished rereading Come As You Are and every time I read it, it motivates me to read more and practice my writing because I want to be more like Harry from that fic hahaha and I’m looking for more fics which evoke this feeling since I’m starting my masters in October and I need all the help I can get. Thank you so much! (I absolutely love your master post and its my go to couple times a week!)
Hi sweetheart. Hmmm... I just reblogged my Dark Academia fic rec, but other than that I think it would be fics where one or the other are writers/poets etc. Not all of these are heavy on the writing/poetry, but they're all great fics.
Make Your Words A Weapon by @helloamhere (E, 36K) I recently read this a second time and it’s even better than I remembered. I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks! (Musician Harry/Music Journalist Louis)
Our Lives, Non Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 114K) this is, quite literally, the best fic I’ve read in years. It’s so well written, clever, funny, emotional, and sexy. Its draw you in immediately and you’ll end up falling in love with these characters before you know it. Don’t miss this one. Harry and Louis are both authors.
An Invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies (E, 45K) this one is mine, I hope you like it:
Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn’t ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son.
The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about. Farmer Harry / author Louis
Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 115K) Beautifully written, flawed characters and an emotionally engaging and ANGSTY plot. Super hot smut that made me cry like a fool. Banter, OT5 friendship, and the gritty realness of New York as a backdrop. Loved this one. Artist Harry / Author Louis
where your lips land by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 12K) Ok, I’ve recommended this one a few times and I really do love it. Anyway, I love fics where the two of them are both artists of some sort (Louis is a poet in this one, Harry is a photographer) because it allows for another layer of understanding and connection and support. I particularly love the way Louis’ tattoos are woven into this story with layered meaning. And, as always, just beautiful writing.
you’re writing lines about me by snazzyasalways (T, 4K) This is gorgeously written on that Dreamy, poetic style I happen to love. Louis is a blind poet, Harry is a baker, Harry falls in love with Louis’ words, then with him.
another hazy may by deLILah (M, 41K) Another author who writes great fic after great fic. This one has that dreamy quality I love and there’s also something about it that, at times, reminds me of a little bit of a Raymond Chandler novel. I know that’s weird...but, yeah, it does. Anyway, I love this one. Such a good read.
I would name the stars for you (I would take you there) by orphan_account (M, 91K) This is just beautifully written. Angst. Mutual pining. Dumb boys. Beautiful descriptions of art and creativity and fame and beautiful poetry.
Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow (M, 72K) This is truly one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I have ever read and it is an absolutely travesty that it’s not being talked about every day. This fic is gorgeous and poetic and romantic and heartbreaking and an explosion of metaphoric images and everything I never knew I needed but now that I have it I want to read it over and over and over.
But If This Ends by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (E, 107K) This author referred to this fic as their “depressed vampire” fic while they were writing, and it is that. But it’s also a unique story with beautifully fleshed out characters, plot twists, and super hot smut. Go check it out! Vampire Harry / Writer Louis
24K Magic by @justalittlelouislove (E, 33K) FINALLY a category in which I can rec this author! I love everything they write, but this was the first one I’d read and it’s just great. Smooth dialogue, sexy smut, great description of character growth…just a really fun fic.
the best part of me (was always you) by @moonshinelouis-archive (E, 6K) Gorgeous writing. The descriptions of heartbreak and missing someone and still loving them were really well done. And I cried. Of course.
'Sup by MediaWhore (GA, 7K) Divorced, awkward Harry pining for silver fox Louis is a trope I never knew I needed, but I love it so much.
I Will Never Rust by stylez (E, 38K) I must have read this at least 5 years ago and I honestly don’t remember details, but my notes say “gorgeous, sad, sexy” so... I’m crossing my fingers that old me knew what she was talking about. It’s frat boy Harry so that could go either way. LOL! Student/Poet Harry.
Loyal Knight and True by rainbowninja167 / (E, 52K) Really original story, mystery and magic, great characterizations. All around a very good read!
Turning Page by purpledaisy (M, 68K) This author does a wonderful job with their characterizations which makes their fics such a pleasure to read. This one really has you rooting for curmudgeonly Louis and skittish/secretive Harry to figure their shit out and fall in love. If you like this one, make time to read this author’s fic, Walk That Mile – it’s one of my all time favorites. Sports journalist Louis.
Black with Autumn Rain by Whimsicule (T, 93K) This author is a favorite. If you like intense, creative stories, with complex characters and tight dialogue, you should read all of their fics. This one has the flavor of a Daphne du Maurier novel – dark, creepy, and moodily romantic. Plus a supernatural edge. It’s so good. Journalist Harry.
That Sounds Fake But Okay by dancingontheceiling (E, 113K) This one has a little bit of everything: Enemies to lovers, fake relationship, famous/not famous... plus, really good writing and some sexy smut scenes. Actor Louis / journalist Harry.
Sing When You're Winning by hazmesentir (NR, 91K) another one I read ages ago, but I always like this author’s writing and the premise of newly out footballer Louis and journalist intern Harry who somehow snags the interview, is such a fun one. And I don’t know why it has an NR rating, there’s plenty of smut.
feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright (M, 123K) I read this one so, so long ago that all I remember is that I loved it, that there’s some really romantic and sweet moments, and that my notes from way back when only say, “OMG this one is so good! And I’ve barely gotten to the smut!” HAHAHAHA! Journalist Harry/prince Louis (this fic has been deleted, so the link is to a download).
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My dearest darling Wolfie, I saw your idea for game gerlion friends to lovers in @thewitcherbog horny chat and I am here to ask you to write the fic. Pls 💜😘
Tada!! I can't remember if this was exactly what I had planned... but it's what we're getting. Lovingly beta'd by @comfyswitcherblanketfort.
CW: probably rated M? Briefly mentioned masturbation more horny than smutty.
____
A retirement at Corvo Bianco had never been what Geralt expected of his life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told a young Dandelion that witcher’s never retire, but in recent years between looting caves and haggling for contracts, he’d managed to save quite a bit of coin. He was, objectively, rich. He had the best armour on the Continent, the most deadly swords and crossbow bolts, and thanks to B.B., his house was beautifully decorated, with the exception of the rather garish portrait of his most loyal friend. Yet, he was still gaining more money than he knew what to do with. He’d started investing in merchants and refusing payment but the vineyard brought in a steady income and Geralt had to admit that his life was pretty luxurious these days.
So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when Dandelion had turned up, in fine, brightly coloured silks and the elegantly decorated elven lute from so many years ago. Geralt sometimes wondered whether Toruviel had enchanted her lute. There was barely a scratch and Geralt couldn’t even recall Dandelion ever having to change the lute strings in all the years he’d known the bard. Geralt was no expert but he was pretty sure that you were supposed to change the lute strings.
The sun was shining over the fields of Corvo Bianco, and Geralt felt at peace. Perhaps that was why he was feeling so nostalgic, pondering over the events that had led him to this moment. His life had always been so busy, but with Ciri off touring the multiverse, and Yennefer doing whatever Yennefer did these days now the Djinn wish had been broken, he was… well… bored? He had every Gwent card currently made, and no one would play him. It was just him and the bard, living the bachelor’s life in Touissant.
So was it any wonder that Geralt had started to develop feelings for his friend? Perhaps they’d always been there, clouded by the wish that tied him to Yennefer, or perhaps their newfound domesticity had awoken something in Geralt that he had never expected. Dandelion spent a lot of time in the makeshift study, working on his latest book, but they always ate together and sometimes the bard would even accompany Geralt on his contracts in the fields, for old times sake. After long nights of drinking too much wine or vodka, it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to fall asleep together, curled up in one bed just like they used to in their youth. Those were Geralt’s favourite nights, because despite his protests of being better alone, he enjoyed the familiar warmth of another body pressed against his, and Dandelion had always been a cuddler.
And as if on cue, the bard burst through the doors onto the patio where Geralt was watching the world go by.
“Ah, Geralt, old friend, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dandelion announced with a flick of his wrist. “I was just in town.”
“Dandelion,” Geralt groaned. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Dear Henrietta will forgive me in time, my friend,” Dandelion winked, his tongue flicking out between his lips, “and until then I have plenty of friends who will offer me shelter if the guards are around.”
“You look like a man sized peacock,” Geralt scoffed. “How the hell does no one see you?”
“Ah, dear witcher, you forget that I used to be a spy,” Dandelion laughed, putting one hand on his hips. “Now, stop interrupting, Geralt, or do you not care about the gift I picked out for you in town today?”
Geralt hummed, knowing that it didn’t really matter whether he cared or not. Nothing would stop Dandelion once he was in the middle of a story. Some things just never changed. “Go on.”
Dandelion beamed, and from behind his back he produced a wooden box. The poet cocked his head as he opened the lid, revealing a set of tiny vials neatly lined up. Geralt almost choked, his breath catching in his throat.
“Oil?” he spluttered. A man such as Dandelion had to know of the more promiscuous uses of oil. Whilst Dandelion had never explicitly said as such, the way he talked of his lovers had always led Geralt to believe that he was rather flexible in his tastes, much like Geralt himself.
The poet blushed as he pulled a single vial from the box, his long lutist fingers wrapping around the glass. “Bath oils, Geralt.”
“Oh, of course,” Geralt cursed internally. Dandelion had bought all sorts of expensive oils and lotions when they had been on the path together, neither of them were shy with their bathing habits and the poet was a highly skilled masseur.
Which was not helping Geralt’s sudden rush of arousal as he remembered the feel of the poet’s hands on his skin. They’d laughed off awkward erections in the past, it was just a thing that happened… but Geralt was starting to wonder what would happen if, for once, they let it happen.
“This one will probably be a bit much for your witcher senses, my friend, but I rather like it,” Dandelion continued, oblivious to Geralt's inner turmoil. “This one,” another vial was plucked from the box, “however, I think you will like, and I managed to buy this,” Dandelion pulled a scroll from his pocket, “from a local mage. It’s supposed to move the water around the tub, like a massage!”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes. As much as he adored his old friend, the man could take his sweet time getting to the point. It was even worse when the poet and Regis got together, Geralt honestly thought he might never know peace again.
“Because, Geralt, I am treating my dearest friend to an extravagant bath time experience!” Dandelion exclaimed with wide arms, almost knocking off his own hat in his enthusiasm. “Friendship and love, art and wine, Geralt. What more could you want in life?”
Love.
No, friendship. Geralt needed to focus on that. How many times had Dandelion called him his friend? Too many to count.
“Assuming you have wine, what’s the art?” Geralt smirked, enjoying the offended noises Dandelion made.
“Geralt, I’ll have you know that-”
“Relax, Dandelion. I’m teasing. So how about this bath then?”
The two men made their way upstairs, peeling off their outer clothes as they strolled past Geralt’s bedroom, and picking up a robe each. Dandelion had filled the room with candles, and there was a soft floral scent hanging in the air, roses, the oil vial that Dandelion had initially held up.
“I thought this one was too much for my ‘witcher senses’?” Geralt scoffed, peering at the magically bubbling water.
“Well, yes, but I did also say I liked this one, and I’ll admit that I got a little carried away. You don’t mind, do you Geralt?”
Geralt shook his head as he stripped off his final layer of clothing and settled into the tub. Dandelion sat in a chair, still wrapped in his robe, and picked up his lute. He plucked idly at the strings until he was seemingly happy that they were in tune, and then he began to sing. Geralt sighed as he sank deeper into the hot water, the enchantment really did feel like a sort of massage as jets of water pulsed against his skin, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The oils, the candles, the romantic ballad…
Was his friend trying to tell him something?
It was time for Geralt to test the waters as it was. He trod the water with his hand, gently splashing to the beat of Dandelion’s song. Normally, he would close his eyes and let the poet’s music fill the room, but instead he was mesmerised by the way Dandelion’s finger caressed the lute strings. Geralt could feel his cock harden as he pondered what other uses his friend’s delicate hands could have, the way they found their mark with such precision. The poet could make any instrument sing to the gods in his hands, Geralt was sure that he was no exception.
“Practicing your fingering?” he asked Dandelion with a tilt of his head.
The strings twanged unpleasantly, making Geralt grimace as the sound reverberated in his head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Geralt smirked. “On your lute.”
“Right, yes, of course,” Dandelion muttered. “I’m just trying to figure out the next verse. I could use a hand, or an ear if you’d be willing to help.”
“I have a hand you could use, or two,” Geralt muttered not really intending for Dandelion to hear him but the poet had sharp ears and he spluttered incoherently as he set down his lute.
Geralt hummed and let his hand drop beneath the water, stroking his cock lazily. He wasn’t really chasing any real pleasure, but it was a good feeling, sending warmth across his skin. The bath, the candles, the song, they had to mean something even in Dandelion’s subconsciousness. The man was an insatiable flirt, and yet never seemed to notice when others’ affections were cast upon him, not unless it was blunt in its honesty.
So Geralt would be blunt.
He closed his eyes as he continued to stroke the length of his cock, the motion causing the water to ripple slightly, but not yet enough to draw Dandelion’s attention. The poet was too busy wittering on about his rhymes, only noticing when Geralt’s breath hitched as he cupped his balls.
“Geralt?”
“Dandelion,” Geralt grunted softly, his pleasure beginning to build from a warm ember to a roaring blaze that burned through him. The poet’s cornflower blue eyes were on him, dark and hungry. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and it seemed his dear friend was finally catching onto what was happening.
“I- I can leave, my friend, if you would prefer…”
“Stay,” Geralt insisted. “This not what you had in mind?”
“Well,” Dandelion laughed. “I had hoped, but I never thought it would actually happen, and well, really I thought it might take a little more convincing. Who knew all I needed all along were a few cheap candles?”
“Just get in the bath, Dandelion,” Geralt growled.
“Okay, okay,” Dandelion said with a roll of his eyes but shrugged out of his robe, allowing Geralt to admire his slender form. The poet’s cock remained soft as he stepped into the water. “So… how long?”
“Hmm?”
“How long have I been more than just a friend to you, Geralt?” Dandelion asked, settling into the water with a soft moan. His hands resting on Geralt’s thighs, fingers drawing patterns on Geralt’s skin under the water.
It wasn’t an easy question to answer. Could he even pin it down? Geralt wasn’t sure.
“Hard to tell, our friendship has never exactly been normal, Dandelion,” Geralt admitted.
Dandelion laughed, leaning forward in the tub, his hands stroking up Geralt’s thigh, the movement forcing the air from Geralt’s lungs. “You know, you’re right, and I think we should celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“Mhmm, and how about we start with a kiss?” Dandelion winked, before falling into Geralt embrace with a splash.
#the witcher#geraskier#gerlion#the witcher 3#tw3#geralt of rivia#dandelion#geralt x dandelion#wolfie's witcher writing
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For your Matchup event! Also congrats on hitting 200!
Id also like a Romantic matchup thanks!
Well im Icarus/Emery, I'm 18 and i use They/them pronounce. Im Non-binary and Bi
For my personality, i tend to be quiet and reserved at the beginning because i have a hard time building up trust with people but once im comfortable around someone i tend to be chaotic loud and just crazy, I'm incredibly loyal to the people i love and i hate if people lie to me. I'm also absolutely terrified of being replaced by someone who is better then me.
If someone wants to calm me down just put some drawing supplies Infront of me or turn on music, i basically listen to Music 24/7 and i have way to many favorite artists to actually write them down. My Love language is Touch and gift giving and i love to make my friends happy with little gifts etc.
For my appearance, I'm about 5'7 and i have short turquoise hair. Which i shaved off to feel more comfortable, i have green eyes which tend to change their color slightly based on my emotions (example: when im really angry they turn dark Green) my face is full of freckles and i have metal frame glasses which are a metallic pink and round on the bottom but flat on the Top.
My clothing style switches often between Goth and Alt but i also sometimes wear Academia and Pastel Goth. I have a septum ring and i love necklaces, chokers, rings and the Like. I have a relatively curvy body in a sort of Hourglass shape (just with a lot more pudge)
My three favorite songs would definitely have to be
She looks so perfect -5SOS
Black and White -Niall Horan
Parents -Yungblud
Some fun facts about me are that i want to become an artist, i read way to much for my own good, i used to Dance for fun, i love cooking and baking and i have an Obsession with Plushies. I am a huge Mythology nerd and know a lot of myths by heart, i cosplay for fun and i love meeting new people on the internet even though anxiety and the likes makes that hard for me. I also absolutely adore any animals (other then Bugs or spiders) and i used to volunteer at an animal shelter.
I hope that's enough info?
― vibe check! i match you with... sapnap !
cw + info! fluff, headcanons / no CWs
includes! cc!sapnap
note! thank you for the congratulations, it means a lot!! sorry that this is kind of long, i had a lot of ideas lmao. also, for anyone interested, feel free to check out the event here!
– you guys are both shy, so i feel like you would gravitate towards one another. plus, he's the type of guy to be confident when he wants to be, especially with people he feels he can relate to. even still, he takes his time warming up to you
– he definitely warms up to you faster than you warm up to him, but that’s fine! he doesn’t mind taking on a little bit of weight while you take your time getting comfy!
– you’re fiercely loyal to one another, almost concerningly so. constantly defending one another unless the other person is truly in the wrong (then you take a second to stop and talk about it lol). you never lie to one another unless it’s for a surprise
– has an unparalleled appreciate for your aesthetic; he just thinks the way you dress is so cool. i’d like to think that he feels like he has Scary Partner Privileges (like on tiktok iykyk). if anyone comments on your fashion sense in a negative way, he gets pissed. he always responds in those instances - he can’t just let someone insult you! he has to defend your honor, obviously
– for the record, he would definitely ask you to make him over at some point, just to see what he would look like if he were to dress like you. he just - he really admires your fashion sense
– loves listening to you talk about your interests or being involved with them in any way
– you’re drawing or doing other art stuff? he’s looking over your shoulder, watching in complete awe as you just do your thing
– you’re reading a new book/fic? read to him. tell him about it. give him commentary on it. at least let him sit with you while you read - let him cuddle you, as a little treat. let him wrap himself around you while you read, or at least rest his head on your tummy while you’re laying across the couch and reading!
– you start dancing out of nowhere? he’s right there with you, though he might hesitate a little [be nice, he’s shy /lh].
– you’re cooking? you’re trying a new recipe?? he wants to help! if he feels like he’s in the way, he’ll just sit to the side and bring you ingredients when you need them, set timers for you, wash the dishes. at least let him sit in the kitchen and watch while you work, maybe even let him lick the spoon if you’re feeling generous /lh
– you wanna talk about mythology? he’s all ears. stops whatever he’s doing to sit down and listen to you infodump to him, and always makes sure to ask questions. nods and hums and makes little noises to make sure you know he’s listening
– you’re planning on cosplaying? using him as a rubber duck; bounce ideas off of him! get his opinion on your makeup [he’ll always think you look amazing, even if you just went outside and rubbed some dirt on your face]! need help getting into costume? no problem, he’s there as soon as you call his name and carefully helping you get dressed!
– if you’re feeling down he Will Not Hesitate to bring patches to you
– if you ever feel like volunteering at an animal shelter again, he’ll be signing the both of you up as soon as the suggestion leaves your mouth
– begs to help you dye your hair. he’s always wanted to dye someone’s hair because he thinks the whole process is really cool, and it would just be another way he gets to be close to you and spend time with you
– if you’re not wearing your glasses, he’ll definitely steal them and try to wear them. jokes about how blind you are (even if your prescription isn’t that intense)
#໑ yours truly!#໑: sapnap#໑: content creators#໑: fluff#໑: headcanons#ʚ: big 200 event!#ʚ: vibe check event#mcyt matchups#dsmp matchups#dream smp matchups#sapnap x reader#sapnap matchup#sapnap fluff
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aight aight idk of this is a good request but monsta x as your employees or something and they're whipped af for you?? but make it nsfw 👉🏻👈🏻🥺🥺 it's v broad I know but do with this what you want
x shy anon
Monsta X as your whipped employees
note: I'm so sorry, I forgot the nsfw part 😭 (i didn't read over the request again before starting to write it) some of these hint at sexy time but they are mainly imagines for how they would behave around you and the office after realizing they like you more than they should
This is supposed to be a lil present for you, happy birthday! ❤
if you like my fics please reblog them with a nice comment or tag
POV: You are Monsta X's employer and they are whipped for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shownu : the servant
very hardworking; he doesn’t get distracted from his work easily but when you bend down a little too low to show him something on the screen, he turns his head away, blushing heavily
he’s very slick with the way he communicates with you, offering to make you a coffee and carrying things for you
does those things without a second thought because he wants to be useful (subconsciously he just wants to be close to you)
when you ask him why he is always following you around the office he starts to stutter, mumbling something about how he didn’t mean to be creepy he just wants to help you out, but you can tell by the way his breath hitches that there is some deeper meaning behind his actions
he ends up taking a job at another company so he can ask you out on a date (he doesn’t have to, but he wants to show you how serious he is and that he doesn’t just want to sleep his way to the top)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wonho : the mess
becomes a blushing mess the minute he realises he has a crush on you
avoids eye contact when talking to you and tries to not bump into you in the office (which turns out to be harder than he thought because it’s not exactly a big office space)
he’s usually smart and quick on his feet but when you ask him a question now it takes him forever to answer and he often miscalculates numbers in his reports
you quickly notice how off he is and start to worry that something private might taint his mind, so you tell him to take a couple of days off and he looks at you with sad eyes thinking he is close to getting fired
he can’t stop thinking about you while he is at home and after his friends give him a kick in the ass to finally man up and confess to you, he calls you up, blurting “I love you” and instantly hanging up again
you pay him a visit and end up staying the night (and a couple more) and his concentration seems to return to normal as he can finally call himself yours
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minhyuk : the comedian
starts his day by telling the joke of the day, gets everyone to laugh and raises the spirit in the office
his workspace is covered in post it notes with little scribbles he drew himself (“Shouldn’t you be working?”, you ask him as he is drawing again; “but this is work, a work of art, like you *wink*”)
surprisingly, he always hands in his reports on time and never makes any mistakes
he tells you up front that he is attracted to you, but you take it as one of his jokes
after years of working with him he asks you why you never made him your valentine (“Why would I?”; “Well, you’ve known that I like you for three years now and you haven’t fired me yet so I’m assuming you like me back, yet you’ve never asked me out.”)
when you tell him that you thought he was just play flirting he gets all serious, telling you that he would never joke about something like that
you take your time thinking about what he had said and how you felt about him but when the 14th of February comes around you slip him a post it note with a scribble of a heart and the question “Will you be my valentine?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kihyun : the daydreaming altruist
respect the authorities and elders is his number one principle, so he never dreamed of asking you out (it seemed unprofessional and rude to him), even when your sheer presence made his heart jump out of his chest
he tries to date other people, but he can’t push down his feelings for you, every time he ends up in someone’s bed, he can’t help but moan your name
cries himself to sleep because he doesn’t want to lose you, but he also can’t move on from you
he daydreams a lot while he’s at work and barely gets anything done
when his performance review comes in you are shocked to see his low numbers and confront him about it, he is apologetic and takes full blame, lowering his head in shame
“Gosh, you’re cute…”, you mumble to yourself, trying to figure out what to do with him, “tell me what hinders you from working. Be completely honest and don’t be scared about coming off as rude, I want us to find a solution, together.”
“You”, he admits, and his sudden bluntness almost makes you fall out of your chair (you settle on late night dates and his performance miraculously enhances)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hyungwon : the perfect balance
he’s considered the quiet one at the office so when he asks you to join him and his friends for a karaoke evening you are quite literally left speechless
he works hard and focused during the day and plans out crazy dates for the night
no one at the office expects you two to date since he is very good at hiding his feelings in public, but he makes sure you still feel appreciated and loved, cuddling into you and professing his love when you two are alone
you stay together for a long time, perfectly balancing your work and love life and eventho he gets job offers from other companies for higher pays, he stays loyal to you and your company till the end
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jooheon : the attention craver
tries to gain your attention as much as he can, thinking that’s gonna win you over
gets sulky when you don’t greet him in the morning, eventho you are clearly stressed
does everything you ask him to do and more (overachieves), knocking at your office door when he has finished his work to ask you if there’s anything else to be done (it gets to a point where you have no work for other employees left because he simply does too much, too fast)
when you tell him to go take a break you find him in the cafeteria, reading over his reports while his soup gets cold
“Do you really love working or do you just want to impress me?”, the question had been lingering on your mind for a while but when you finally confront him about it, he falls silent
he admits that he wants you to notice him and you tell him you do, but you are worried he’ll get a burnout
you tell him it’d be better if he left the company, for his own health, but before he breaks out into tears you ensure him that you have indeed fallen for him and this was the only plausible solution to ensure a serious future for you two
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Changkyun : the fuckboy
flirts with other colleagues to make you jealous, but it only makes you see him as a fuckboy
when you tell him to mature and leave his horniness at home, he becomes beat red, his confidence dying down in his throat
everyone has a crush on him (boy or girl) and you are surprised to find out he’s turning all of them down
he would never admit his feelings for you, and he is lowkey intimidated by your assertiveness, his facade shattering to pieces the second your hand lays on his shoulder
he wants nothing more than to be bent over that stupid desk of yours, writing drabbles about his imaginations
one day he accidently attaches one of his personal word documents to an email instead of his report and when he realises his mistake, he rushes to your office to tell you to please not open the email, but you already did, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, telling him to lock the door behind him
needless to say, he is your fuckboy now
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masterlist
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taglist: @euphoricsunflowers, @baa-nana, @vanillaknj, @mingiibabieee, @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @soya-zz, @coeurbreak, @mellowriting , @submissive-bangtan
#monsta x#mx#mx!au#monsta x!au#office au!#monsta x x reader#mx x reader#shownu#son hyunwoo#shownu imagine#shownu x reader#monsta x imagine#monsta x headcanons#Wonho#wonho x reader#wonho imagine#minhyuk#minhyuk x reader#minhyuk imagine#kihyun#kihyun x reader#kihyun imagine#hyungwon#hyungwon x reader#hyungwon imagine#jooheon#joohoney#jooheon x reader#joohoney x reader#jooheon imagine
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About the Writer
Gosh, several months into this and I’m finally making an author bio--
Hi! As most of you might already know, this is a side-blog dedicated to Fallout 4 stuff. My main blog is @simwoman2002. A lot of my watermarks have Rosie2009 on them, which is my AO3 and Fanfiction.net name. But on here, y’all can call me Blue if you want 😊💙💛
Like I mentioned in my bio (and from what you can probably assume by the nickname) I am one of the biggest Piper fans out there. In my opinion, she is just the sweetest, most loyal, and most hilarious character I have seen in the entire game so far. I just love her so much 🥺
So probably I should tell y’all up front that the main theme of my blog is friendship and platonic goodness. I have absolutely nothing against romance (I romance Danse in the game literally every time I do a playthrough), but I like focusing on platonic stuff because it is such a rarity in fandoms and so many other people already have done romantic stuff and I thought I might present some new thoughts with my different way of doing things 🥰
Also, I do some art. I’ve been working on my digital stuff, but my best work is probably in pencil and with actual hands-on art tools. I take requests for little sketches, so please feel free to shoot me an ask if the inbox is open, and I’ll draw a little something for you 👍
I also write fics! Most of my stuff is oneshots (I never can stay consistently on one thing for a long time), and I mostly love to write about Piper, Curie, and Cait and their friendship with my sole survivor Nora Hale.
And my main thing is doing companion reacts with F!Sole and her crazy found family! A lot of times, I’m really stocked up on requests, so I’ve made a place in my bio to show whether the requests are open or not. I am currently trying to take it kind of slow because I’ve been going at it like a madwoman and I need to take a little break. But don’t worry! I try to have my queue stocked up so you get at least one post per day 😊
I think that’s probably about it for me! I love to talk about Fallout 4 characters (mostly the Fallout 4 girls because I know them best and love them the most), and I am cool with any of y’all shooting me a message to talk about them 😁
#about the writer#about the author#fallout#fo4#fallout 4#piper wright#curie#cait#nora hale#female sole survivor#f!sole#f!ss#sole survivor#danse#paladin danse#companion reacts#fallout companion reacts
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creator tag meme
@knifeears said anyone could snatch it up, so here I am, snatching
rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
#1 The Kiss in the Shrieking Shack
It’s almost a year since I made this, but I’m still very satisfied with it. I managed to make a lot of background with several layers of shadows. This was a very simple idea: just make one change to the canon scene. I added the canon dialogue from the scene in the tumblr post, and I didn’t need to change a single word, and that still makes me grin. My favourite panel is one of the last ones, where they just stare at each other, I’m very satisfied with that picture in particular, especially Sirius’ expression. This comic exploded in popularity more than I could have imagined. I am thrilled so many people enjoy it.
#2 November 1st 1993
Sticking to the Prisoner of Azkaban-timeline, making a scene with just the teachers. I just like what I managed to show with the dialogue and the art here. In canon, Snape seems to think Remus Lupin isn’t trustworthy because of his past history with Sirius Black, as we can see from his talk with Dumbledore at Halloween, and the things he says in the Shrieking Shack. I just took that, and made it a romantic/sexual history. Snape’s not outing him as a werewolf, instead it’s another painful secret he pokes at.
Also satisfied with Minerva and Remus’ short conversation; he didn’t help his ex into Hogwarts, and she believes him, but at the same time … Remus IS hiding one BIG secret (the fact that Sirius became an Animagus to help Remus through hard times) that quite IS possibly at least part of how he got onto the school grounds. Ah. Guilt.
The last picture took me ages. I made the poster, and then copied and tweaked and drew tears and holes in them, piecing it all together in a ton of layers. I kept the file of the posters, and ended up reusing it in a different comic later.
#3 Nightmare
Still in the Prisoner of Azkaban-timeline, when everyone thought Sirius was a murderous traitor. Parts of this comic are a bit uneven. I spot some issues with the size of people’s eyes in certain frames. But it’s mostly about the atmosphere and emotions, and I think that worked well here.
I always like drawing Sirius’ ‘straight outta Azkaban’-look; dressed in rags and long messy hair. Here I had a lot of fun working on making him creepy, both with dialogue and the way he acts. As if he really was a loyal servant of Voldemort, not giving a damn about the deaths he’s responsible for … and any romantic tones are messed up and possessive, as if he had intended to keep Remus like a pet once Voldemort took over.
This is basically all about creepy atmosphere and how Remus never got the therapy he needed after the war.
#4 Picking up the Pieces
This was the year I started writing fanfiction. I love reading it, but never dared to write and put it out there before. I worried I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t understand characters well enough … but once I dipped back into my obsession with HP (this is one of the fandoms that is always in the back of my mind, even if others things take the front seat), I ended up trying. I feel comfortable with this world; I feel I know it well enough to try and make something within it, even without my art as a crutch.
Picking up the Pieces is an AU where Sirius gets a trial and ends up raising Harry together with Remus. I love this type of AU, because there’s the happiness of a better childhood for Harry, contrasted with the war they came out of, and the people they lost.
The Trial took a lot of work, but I wanted to try and do it justice. I love working in details of the world, and reread and reread the canon we know to try and piece it all together, and drag in just about all I could think of that could be used as proof for and against Sirius.
Both that part, and Wolfsbane are Outsider POV from minor canon characters, and I absolutely love Outsider POV. I liked fleshing out Damocles Belby, and make his research into the Wolfsbane potion more emotional.
We need to talk about the snakes is basically a slice of life episode focusing on Harry’s magical powers starting to appear, and with some special skills his godparents never suspected he had. I enjoyed peppering background about their life together into this, and it is one of those stories where the audience that knows canon understands what’s happening, but the characters don’t; and I enjoy that.
I still have ideas for Picking up the Pieces, so hopefully, there will be some more in this series.
#5 Rumours
Aaand right back to Prisoner of Azkaban-timeline! (yes it is my favourite HP-book, why are you asking?) This little fic has much in common with #1 and #2. It is basically a canon scene that I did a little bit of tweaking to. It deals with the rumours that have started to spread around the school about how professor Lupin used to date Sirius Black years back.
It’s short, but I liked writing Harry in this; his thoughts on those rumours, both at the beginning and end of the fic. It sticks to Harry’s POV like how the book canon is presented, and again there’s how we the readers know things the characters does not.
#bonus
I just think this unicorn is rad.
I tag @kattlupin, @engie-ivy and anyone else that wants to do it. Show us what you’ve made this year!
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So I’m aware that it’s @azozzoni’s birthday, and as you’re captain and the reason I write VDS fics in the first place, I wanted to show my appreciation. You have literally even inspired this fic, which is based on this gif set. Happy birthday 💕
~^~
Lucas has definitely been sulking.
Jens doesn’t think he’s spent this much time hiding out in his room in the eight months since they’ve moved in. The shared house has been unusually quiet. It feels unbearably empty to Jens without the other’s bright presence. Sitting in the main room with their other roommates just leaves him bored and mildly uncomfortable, with a jittery leg and constantly-tapping fingers and a feeling like an itch he can’t scratch. Listening to them drone on about their latest hookup or the next house party or their least favourite professor on a nightly basis is making him tired. It’s making him restless. It’s making his gaze and his mind wander to the hallway more often, up the stairs and to the room at the end, urging and begging his feet to follow. He isn’t sure whether said room is still off limits. He doesn’t know what the limits are now.
It had taken four months. Four months of knowing each other. Four months of living together. Four months of sitting just a little too close. Four months of staying up together, finishing assignments last minute or winding down from them. Four months of progressively heated glances. Lingering touches and knowing stares. Flirtatious jokes and teasing comments. Denial and dawning understanding. Acceptance and action.
Four months after meeting, after becoming friends and learning each other slowly, they’d crossed that thin line between friends and something else. Not quite boyfriends. Nothing like boyfriends. Still friends, but with benefits.
It’s a situation Jens has never imagined himself ending up in. He wouldn’t consider himself a romantic, but he’s a lover, and despite the few drunken one night stands at the anxiety-ridden beginning of his college career, he doesn’t do sex just for sex. Even after Jana, he’d tried to recuperate by finding himself another *relationship. Someone to care about. Someone worth more than a one-time thing.
Which makes Lucas a kind of in-between. Jens isn’t sure what they’d been thinking, that first time. He hadn’t been. He’d fallen into Lucas in a trance, mesmerised by the tempting curl of lips, the softness of his hair under Jens’s fingers, the miles of smooth skin being revealed to him inch by inch, the smothered gasps and pants escaping like a prayer next to his ear. He hadn’t been thinking about what they’d do in the morning, what they’d do even an hour later. But from the first second, he’d known deep down that it couldn’t be a one time thing.
Instead, it became something repetitive and unspoken. It didn’t leave the safe confines of their rooms, even to escape into the rest of the house, regardless of whether they had it to themselves or not. It was something private and secret, something they wouldn’t even let themselves contemplate outside of the times they returned to each other.
But the thrum of heat in Jens’s stomach had turned from interested to familiar quickly. When Lucas shot him his smirk over the table. When he gave Jens’s hair a gentle tug as he passed by the couch. When his gaze turned dark and wanting in an instant and he casually left the room with not even a gesture for Jens to follow. They didn’t need to communicate it. There was no doubt when they wanted each other.
It didn’t feel like a dangerous game, until Jens started wanting Lucas to stay. Until those few moments of post-coital bliss became what Jens craved most. When Lucas would lie sated and soft at his side, curly hair mussed and lips slick against Jens’s as he pulled him into one more heated, drawn-out kiss. It didn’t feel like a dangerous game until Jens felt like he was losing.
Until Lucas had told him, “I think we should stop,” and he’d felt like his chest was cracking open, just to allow his heart to burst out and toss itself into the abyss. Lost and untethered without Lucas’s oblivious ownership.
Jens only realised his mistake two months in, when Lucas found someone he actually cared about. Someone worthy of his attention outside of the bedroom. Someone he wanted to date.
It had taken barely over a week for Lucas to feel comfortable enough to bring this new guy home, and no more than a minute for Jens to decide he hated him.
Benjamin. Benji. Lucas’s boyfriend with the perfect hair and the perfect teeth and the personality of a rock.
Not only was he boring as hell, but an awful boyfriend. Monopolising all of Lucas’s time. Giving him ‘rules’ (no Jens in his room). Making snide remarks (the party can’t be that exciting if Jens will be there). Draping himself all over Lucas (in Jens’s presence).
Jens wouldn’t have minded if Lucas was happy. He wouldn’t have. (So he might have, but he would have accepted it.) He would’ve been quiet about it. He wouldn’t have made Lucas feel bad. He would have been supportive. A good friend.
But he couldn’t ignore Lucas’s continuous, growing absence. He couldn’t ignore the tired sighs, the tense slump to his shoulders, the smile that no longer reached his eyes. He couldn’t ignore that the Lucas in front of him wasn’t the Lucas he’d come to know, wasn’t Lucas when he was happy, when he was truly allowed to be himself.
So he might have said something about it.
“He’s an asshole, Luc. Maybe he’s not the worst guy in the world, but that doesn’t make him a good one. Why can’t you see that he treats you like shit?”
Lucas had snapped back, “Why can’t you mind your own business?”
“Because I actually care about you! Because I see what’s happening, and it’s not you being happy, and I don’t fucking understand why you won’t wake up and realise you deserve better.”
“And what counts as better? Who? You?”
Jens had stopped pushing after that. He had scoffed and shouted some more and slammed the door on his way out, of course, but he hadn’t pushed. If Lucas wanted to be an asshole too, then Jens couldn’t stop him.
He could just find subtle ways to push Benjamin out and keep an eye on Lucas in secret.
He was mad, but he was nothing if not loyal. He wouldn’t abandon Lucas when he needed him. He’d just work through his own feelings while giving the other the silent treatment.
He’d just wait it out.
Now, he’s done his time, and Lucas is holed up in his room with a possibly broken heart. Along with that, there still seems to be a sign on the door that points directly at Jens and reads ‘KEEP OUT’, in brilliant bold letters.
Maybe it’s self-centered, but he can’t quite help feeling like Lucas’s silence and absence is specifically directed at him. It seems obvious to Jens that Lucas is avoiding him like the plague since he broke up with his boyfriend, and it seems that the rest of the house and their friends have noticed. They’re simply choosing to stay silent.
Jens is getting really tired of this silence.
Cas (the quietest, most pleasant member of their household), knocks his knee against Jens’s before cheerfully saying, “Hey, Luc.”
It’s enough to knock Jens out of his daze in an instant. His head snaps up in just enough time to catch Lucas’s lips turning up in a tiny smile. He greets Cas back quietly as he passes through the room, walking behind the couch opposite Jens with an empty glass in hand. He doesn’t spare Jens a glance during the short trip, making his way to the kitchen and back without any further interaction. He walks past Jens twice and doesn’t even blink.
Cas knocks his leg against Jens’s again.
Jens gets up and follows Lucas.
He stands in front of the door and listens for anything but silence on the other side. There’s nothing that Jens can use as an excuse, no evidence that Lucas is busy or has a reason to ignore Jens. He takes a steadying breath before raising his hand and knocking lightly on the wood.
Silence.
He presses his palm to the door and takes another breath. He’s done with the silence. He’s done running away. “Luc, can I come in?”
He’s granted with more silence. Still, he stands his ground. He’s been waiting for two months for Lucas to come to his senses. He can wait a little longer.
Sooner than Jens expects, Lucas’s voice resonates through the wood. “I guess.”
It’s not the most reassuringly enthusiastic response he could’ve gotten, but it’s more than he’s received in a while. It’s enough to get him moving, to get him opening the door slowly and slipping inside.
The room is exactly the same as Jens remembers. The mismatched art prints and posters hung on the wall, a mix of merchandise and Lucas’s own work. The drawing supplies and textbooks stacked in the corner, a skateboard leaning against them. The single photo frame on the nightstand, holding an image of all his friends from back home that Kes had gifted him as a ‘joke’. The unframed photo propped up next to it, an image of Jens and Lucas taken on Lucas’s camera the first week they’d moved in, carefully developed but wearing around the edges.
“You put it back up,” Jens notes.
Lucas is sat in his desk chair, sketchbook open in front of him on a blank page. A handful of pencils lie on top. One is still clutched between Lucas’s fingers, unmoving. It makes a quiet thump as it lands against the paper when Lucas releases it, swiveling around to follow Jens’s gaze. He doesn’t respond to Jens’s statement, but gazes quietly at the photo with an expression that, at first glance, appears entirely blank.
Jens knows better. He can see the exhaustion and the acceptance underneath. Beyond that lies the nerves.
He walks further into the room, but maintains a safe distance. He doesn’t dare sit down. Not quite yet. He considers his options. Tries to settle on an approach. He isn’t the best at delicate, but he can do gentle. It seems unfair to say ‘I told you so’. It seems even more unfair to make it about him. It seems most unfair to senselessly avoid the topic. He isn’t going to get anywhere with small talk, and he can bet Lucas sure as hell isn’t going to let him stick around if that’s the best he can come up with.
He needs to get straight to the point, but he still needs to get there carefully.
“You’re spending a lot of time stuck in here. The rest are starting to think you don’t like them.”
Lucas simply shakes his head. He finally meets Jens’s gaze. “They know I like them fine.”
Jens purses his lips and gives a slow nod. “Okay. And...me?”
Lucas watches him carefully. “The verdict’s still out.”
They’re beginning to return to slightly more familiar territory. Jens can see it in the way Lucas’s posture changes, going from closed off to relaxed in a short, subtle roll of his shoulders. He can see it in the challenge that has slipped into Lucas’s eyes, accepting Jens’s bait and urging him on. He can see it in the slow but sure uptick of Lucas’s lips, a smile barely beginning to play on his face.
Jens wasn’t sure he’d be forgiven so easily. He wasn’t sure if he’d forgive Lucas. But the tension between them is not the lingering remnants of a fight. It isn’t the heavy weight of words left unsaid and others they can’t take back. It isn’t what Jens had prepared himself for. It’s much more familiar than that.
Jens very carefully does not smile back. Not just yet. “So, what? Are you still upset about the break-up?”
Lucas stares at him. Jens wishes he had those fancy mind-reading powers. He wishes he hadn’t had to take a break from improving his Lucas-reading powers.
Then Lucas’s smile widens. Just slightly.
He leans forward with a sigh, resting his elbows on his thighs as he looks up at Jens. “No. You were right,” he admits. When Jens raises a brow in question and surprise, he finishes, “He was an asshole.”
Jens is not smug. Smugness is not an attractive trait. So he isn’t going to be smug. He is pleased that said asshole is gone and he is pleased that Lucas has seemingly come to his senses. He isn’t pleased that Benjamin was enough of an asshole to make Lucas realise it.
He averts his gaze, shrugging his shoulders as he shakes his head slightly. “I didn’t want to be right.”
Lucas is shaking his head even before he’s done, smile beginning to come out in full as he argues, “Shut up, you definitely did.”
Finally, Jens finds himself smiling back. He licks his lips and admits, “Okay, maybe a little.”
“I knew it.” Lucas is fully grinning now, and Jens isn’t sure what’s happening. He isn’t sure what to think. He isn’t sure what Lucas is thinking. The only things he’s sure of is that he’s very glad they’ve taken this turn, and he very much wants to just pull Lucas into his arms and kiss him.
Instead he moves to sit on the bed, knees a few inches away from Lucas’s. He doesn’t know where to go next, but he knows he can’t let this opportunity pass. He knows he has to keep this moving forward. Maybe in a new direction altogether. “So, if you’re not upset, why are you constantly hiding out in here?”
Lucas sighs and half-turns back to his desk, picking up his pencil and tapping it on the arm of his chair. “Well, I was upset. And I have a project due in a few days that I’m a little bit behind on.” He looks at Jens again. “And I might have been avoiding you, a little.”
Jens swallows. “Right.” When Lucas only continues tapping his pencil, he tries to go on. “I’m sorry for getting pissed at you. That wasn’t the way to go about it. I just wanted you to see that he...that you deserve better than him. But I get it, it wasn’t my place, and I had no right to—“
“If I ask you something,” Lucas cuts him off, “will you answer honestly?”
Jens hesitates. He licks his lips again. “Depends on the question.”
“Were you jealous?”
He should have expected this, really. He also shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t have an answer. “No...it didn’t have anything to do with me. I want you to be happy and you weren’t. You deserve someone who makes you happy.”
“And you wanted that to be you.”
“Well, is it?”
Lucas stays silent. Jens hooks his fingers in the arm of the chair and turns Lucas around to face him. He puts one hand on either side of Lucas, caging him in, silently asking him to look at him. “You seemed happy then. When we were...whatever we were. I haven’t seen you like that since. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? Weren’t you happy with me?”
He waits, but Lucas still doesn’t answer. He is, however, maintaining eye contact. He isn’t admitting anything, but he isn’t running away either. He isn’t backing down.
It’s what probes Jens to say, “I have a question for you now.”
“Didn’t you already just use it?”
“A question you actually have to answer. Two, actually.”
“Now you’re pushing it a little.”
Jens just raises a brow. Lucas quiets. Jens rolls the chair closer towards himself. “Did you break up with him? Or did he break up with you?”
“I broke up with him.”
Jens smiles slightly. “Okay. Question two: why?”
Lucas considers him. “He wanted me to move in with him.”
That isn’t exactly what Jens had expected. It was nowhere in the realm of expectation, in fact. His chest clenches painfully at the thought. He can’t imagine Lucas leaving. He can’t imagine he would’ve let him. But, still. “Okay...I’m actually not seeing the asshole part to this.”
Lucas leans forward. “He wanted me to move in with him so I wouldn’t be living with you.”
Ah. Now they’re reaching an understanding.
“So, he’s actually the jealous one,” Jens realises, mildly gleeful. “I could’ve told you that, though. I knew he was being a dick to me specifically.”
Lucas rolls his eyes and flops back in the chair. “Yes, it was always about you, congratulations,” he mocks.
“Seems that way.”
Jens grins as Lucas scoffs, opening his legs to reel the chair in that little bit closer. The line has disappeared miles behind them at this stage, already crossed long ago, and they’re moving further and further into uncharted territory. Jens wants to keep going. All the way, if possible. If Lucas is willing to go with him. “So you broke up with him because you couldn’t bear to leave me, is that it?”
Lucas kicks at his leg half-heartedly. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
Jens shakes his head. “I don’t think you find me annoying.”
“Ahh, denial.” Lucas smiles at him for a moment. Jens is ready to reach out and pull him in the rest of the way, but he isn’t done. “I broke up with him because it got to the point where he didn’t even like me. Where I wasn’t sure if he ever did. It’s like, he was just with me as some part of stupid competition with you. That you didn’t even realise you were a part of. He asked me about you so many times, made all these stupid comments, and I told him that he was being stupid. But he was right. He saw it even though I was trying to ignore it. And in the end I broke up with him because he wasn’t you.”
They really should have gotten to a point where Lucas couldn’t surprise him anymore. He’s seen all of Lucas, in the emotional sense as well as the physical. He’s seen him at his best and at his worst. In the time Jens has known him, he’s made it his mission to get to know every part of him. He’d thought Lucas could never do anything more surprising than kissing him that first time. Then he’d thought it wouldn’t get more surprising than a hand slipping into his pants. But this floors him in a way none of that ever had. This is an admission of more than simple attraction. This is taking it to another level.
This is all the way.
“That was a bigger speech than I expected of you,” Jens says eventually.
Lucas’s expression is incredulous. Then he huffs. “You wanted an answer,” he shrugs. “Am I allowed another question?”
Jens furrows his brows and nods.
“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to do that myself as well?”
He doesn’t need to ask that twice. Jens sweeps forward and kisses him softly, gentle, the way he’s been wanting to for the past two months. Lucas’s hands find their way into his hair, curling tightly in the strands. The breath he lets out against Jens’s lips is relieved. Jens grips his waist and pulls him forward, trying to get closer and ending up with a knee knocking a little too close to his groin. Lucas laughs and detaches himself long enough to stand and climb into Jens’s lap, matching Jens’s grin before dragging him into another kiss.
“For the record,” Jens gets out, minutes or hours later into the breath of space between their mouths, “this doesn’t mean I was jealous.”
Lucas stops kissing his neck long enough to shoot him another incredulous glance.
Jens kisses his nose. “I had you first. I knew I was going to get you back.”
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ToT letter 2021
I am laughingpineapple on AO3
Hello dear author! I hope you’ll have fun with our match. Feel free to draw from general or fandom-specific likes, past letters, and/or follow your heart.
Art likes: characters doing something, even something very simple, illustrating a moment rather than abstractly posing. I also enjoy seeing them wear different clothes, getting a feel of what their fashion sense is like beyond their canon outfit(s). Or dressing them up for some outlandish AU!
Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (especially if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, canon-adjacent tropey plots, outsider POV, UST, resolved UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, sickfic, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night, emphasis on non-human traits of non-human characters (gen-wise, but also a hearty yes xeno for applicable ships), emphasis on inhuman traits of characters who were human once and have sort of shed it all behind
DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents are okay!), canon retellings
All requests are for both fic and art!
Death Crown: Death, trick
(I haven't played the DLC yet so, alas, no demons, or no spoilers for the demons, at least) I am absolutely charmed by the overall mood of this game and would like to see something more in that vein! Anything! Got more sacred (or unholy?) geometrical architecture for Death to interact with, maybe in greater detail than just wrecking it? What else feels like a contemporary take on a Bosch painting? Can Death get lost?
Ghost Trick: Jowd, Cabanela, trick, treat
Anything focused on Cabanela being an unstoppable force (confident, untiring, sparkling, stubborn, dexterous, loyal to the bitter end, legs) and/or Jowd being an immovable object (sarcastic, strong, depressed, self-deprecating but knowing he's hot stuff, also stubborn, clever but an emotional dumbass, round). Figuring out stuff? Something in the new timeline is linked to the old timeline? Coat? Dancing? Scarves? Halloween costumes?
I like Cabanela/Jowd and Cabanela/Alma/Jowd and Cabanela/Alma in scenarios where Jowd isn't around and Alma/Jowd in general (REALLY like all these, okay. like this is the one request where I'd love the most self-indulgent shippy takes as well), and dig Lynne/Memry. Yomiel/fianSissel and Emma/JM also cool!
Hylics: any, trick, treat
(I have only played the first game so far so please no overt spoilers for Hylics 2. Feel free to include stuff from it but... stealthily, I guess?) This is an "anything that feels somewhat like canon, please" sort of request! Love the mood, love the cast, love the little added details in their menu screen. Those can be prompts? Or the oddball stats? How do ToT's trick and treat freeforms apply to Hylics' overall... hylicsness, what would those guys think constitutes a "creepy" moment or a "fluffy" one?
Not into ships for this one, however I WILL say that Dedusmuln has all the proverbial curves in the right places. mostly their face.
Kentucky Route Zero: Weaver
Math, debt, the liminal state of almost being a ghost, seeing the world with a strange clarity... just anything Weaver, please! How'd she make her way to the town? What was it like for her to be working on Xanadu for a time? What about the community broadcast! Does she have an opinion on Carrington's oeuvre? You know... things... stuff. Weaver things. and stuff.
I love the whole cast and Weaver... wove... her story through most of them so feel free to bring in whomever. Not interested in ships here though.
Paradise Killer: Lady Love Dies, trick
A post-canon glimpse of life on '''''perfect''''' 25? That's not QUITE enough class consciousness to make the whole thing work, you guys. What does 'normal' life feel like to LD now? After following Henry's case and talking to Shinji so much, can she see that it's doomed to fail again, and then what? What IS Island 25 like, anyway? (what comes after Island 25, even?)
I liked the choice of canon romances - if it has to be just one I'd prefer it to be Crimson, but I'd also be interested in seeing what a V or triad with Doom Jazz would look like. They're all so chill about stuff
Pyre: Volfred, trick, treat
Pragmatic idealist, charismatic and bad at people, pacifist, activist, physiologically incapable of shutting up for a hot second, what's there not to love... I am very into either of the following: C. Volfred Sandalwood has a fantastic day; C. Volfred Sandalwood has a terrible no good day. Everything is great! Pre-exile antiestablishmentarian antics, maybe with Bertrude? Political gambits? The very physical dangers of the Downside which may or may not catch a scholar by surprise (who saves him?)? Tree problems? Meeting Oralech for the first time and Volfred thinks he himself is hot stuff but out of the two, Oralech is clearly the VIP? Feeling like he should live up to Lu Sclorian's legacy but he feels much closer to other Scribes (and what does Lu have to say about it, one way or another?)? The thrilling intimacy of Reading? The thrilling intimacy of lowercase reading also, maybe reading old manuscripts found in the Downside?
I very much ship him with Tariq and/or Oralech. The only canon ship I like is Hedwyn/Fikani. I also like Soliam/Gol, Bertrude/Pamitha and Celeste/Jodariel. Love all the Nightwings + Dalbert (+Deluge...?); love to dunk on Manley, Brighton and Lendel (I don't enjoy flat-out bashing, more like... I enjoy the way they are portrayed as horrible gremlins in canon and if they turn up in fic I'm not interested in more positive portrayals)
Signs of the Sojourner: Rhea, Elias, trick, treat
Once again pretty much an "anything in the style of canon" request. I love this setting, its themes and all the little lives that fill it. I am interested in a wide range of postcanon scenarios and love the whole cast - does Rhea come back to $town any number of years down the line and find $character? How'd their storyline end up in the medium-long term? What the hell is up with the Stranger (seriously, three runs and I never managed to speak with them, I have no idea)? What's life like for Elias back home, or in a new home if they can't keep the store, or if Rhea landed the Oscar ending or whatever (just, please, not dead Rhea. I love that ending but can't stand to consider what it'd do to Elias)? Or does he join the caravan just once? Who did Rhea grow to really like and can't wait to see every time? Any ghost stories or creepy encounters on the caravan's route? Does Thunder help?
I'm neutral on ships here - good with Rhea&Elias, good with background Rhea/Elias but I wouldn't like a romantic focus.
Totally Normal Wizard Apprentice: apprentice, wizard, master, trick, treat
(conflict of interest disclaimer, I illustrated this but didn't write nor nominate it) What awaits the apprentice outside the wizard's tower? It sounds like a pretty wild moon out there, I loved all the worldbuilding hints of the bigger setting. Does the wizard keep track of the apprentice, with her telescope or otherwise, and how does she take care of her ruined parlor? Was this all some sort of 5d chess on the master's part, and if so to what end? And what kind of otherworldly patience does this man possess, anyway, to handle the apprentice on a daily basis?
Twin Peaks: Margaret, Diane, Lucy, Tammy, trick, treat
(bass-boosted ethereal whooshing) For tricks, I would like to see any of these characters face the woods, the mystery of the woods, and/or a new symbol of your liking. Or: Margaret in the city, Diane and the moon, Lucy and the color blue, Tammy incognito.
For treats, a happy meeting. I love the whole cast and I'm always thrilled by gonzo "&" pairings, bring in whomever! Coffee and pie? The Bookhouse Boys? A kinder aspect of the woods?
Fandom-specific notes: love s3, love the books too. I like Lucy/Andy, Margaret/Sam fwiw, and rarepairs Tammy/Cynthia and Diane/Constance. Please no Fireman's-house-is-the-white-lodge, no Twin Perfect, no Judy-was-destroyed (nor is destroyable).
Arcade Spirits: Percy, Teo, treat
More than anything, I love the sense of group and camaraderie among the arcade's staff and regulars, and I'd love to see some more of it. I picked Percy and Teo 'cause they're my faves but anyone you may want to add, up to and including Sue, is very very welcome. Is there any aspect of gaming that feels like it could be adapted to this strange world of contemporary arcades? Cosplay shenanigans for everyone courtesy of Ashley? Any other activity that could show how Percy and/or Teo get along with the others, like they were all forming little groups during the beach chapter? It's such a feel-good canon, any feel-good situation would be great!
My Ari is with Percy but I'm not really interested in shipping here. All sorts of friendships though!
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https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/641225373410000896/therainbowwillow
Part 16! Well, this fic is getting so damn long! I have another (dare I say more important) project I’m *supposed* to be writing. This fic was meant to be a warm-up... anyway. Here is part 16!
Premise/last time: With their trial fast approaching, everyone arrives at the gates of Olympus. Hermes again receives the same foreboding prophecy, but they’ve come too far to turn back now.
The golden gates of Olympus span before them, in beautiful contrast to the city’s mostly marble architecture. Athena opens the doors, standing guard as they enter. “Welcome home,” she greets the returning Olympians.
“Are we safe?” Hermes questions her.
“You’re safer than you could be,” she says. “Hades insisted upon immediately locking you up, but we negotiated against chains. I am supposed to disarm you, however.”
“We only have Hades’s knife, as far as I know,” Hermes explains.
“I’ll take it.” He hands the knife to her. It’s stained with blood, unwashed since... Hermes doesn’t want to think about it. “Smart, preserving the evidence,” she tells him, turning it over in her hands. He accepts the compliment, although his intention hadn’t been to incriminate Hades.
“Apollo!”
He looks up as Artemis flies down the path and leaps into his arms. “Artemis! Ouch, wait. I took an arrow to the ankle, remember.”
“Sorry!” She holds him up for support. Hyacinthus takes his other side. “It’s been a while, Apollo.”
He chuckles. “And whose fault is that?”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry! I know I should’ve been there for you. It wasn’t you I was trying to avoid. Still, I should’ve said something.”
He tilts his head. “Who then?”
“Take a guess. Zeus and Hades blamed me for the Asclepius situation, because it was my hunter he resurrected. Our relatives are easier to avoid than to confront, so I ran. I see your lover didn’t stay down too long,” she remarks.
“I don’t know. I’d call seventeen- no, eighteen- years a long time,” Hyacinthus says.
She shrugs. “Shorter than most people stay dead for. Anyway, our prospects look fine. Zeus and Hades remain their ever-stubborn selves. Still, the whole world heard that song. Callisto and I were as far from the railroad as one could get and we heard it. That son of yours, he has the whole planet on his side.”
“You’re still with Callisto?” Apollo says with a smirk.
Her cheeks flush. “I suppose. She’s a wonderful hunting partner.”
“You don’t need the ‘hunting’ bit of that sentence.”
“And you wonder why I never visit,” she mutters.
“Aw, come on, Art. I’m only teasing. Please do come by more often.”
“I come by plenty when you aren’t moping and our father isn’t attempting to bring his wrath upon me. Shouldn’t we be discussing the trial?”
“Right.”
“I’ve been keeping my eye on Zeus,” she says, as they walk through the gates. “I posed a case for Hyacinthus, too. Our father seemed open to the idea of letting him live if it means you’ll get back to your duties.”
Apollo grins. “Still, it’ll take some argument,” Artemis continues. “I overheard that Hermes will be the target of the trial, not Orpheus. I didn’t catch why they changed their plans, but I thought I’d warn you. Ares, Zeus, and Poseidon took Hades’s side. The rest of Olympus is loyal to Orpheus, to varying degrees, and for different reasons. Regardless, it’s support!”
“A little good news for once,” Hermes remarks.
“Yes. I’m sorry about your circumstances, though.”
“Better me than Orpheus. When does the trial start?” He asks.
“Soon,” Athena answers. “Let’s arrive before our opposition.” She guides them down the street, ethereal and white as the rest of the city.
Orpheus notices the flowers, gardens pressed against every house and street corner, all in full bloom. It seems even Olympus feels his springtime. He absentmindedly plucks out a few notes on his lyre. The flower heads turn to face him.
Eventually, they reach the center of the city. A marble building rises higher than the rest. Its domed roof has blue accents. The entrance is lined with sets of ornate pillars.
“Here we are,” Athena says, “Get comfortable. Confidence will be an asset to our case.”
Hestia welcomes them inside. “You must be Orpheus! The poet I’ve heard so much about.” Her smile is genuine and it lights up the entire room as Eurydice wheels him inside.
“I am!” Orpheus says. “The gods know me!” He whispers to Eurydice.
“I am sorry for the circumstances of our meeting, Orpheus. My name is Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home. Are you comfortable as you are or would you like a chair?”
“This is fine! Thank you.”
“Of course! You will all be provided food and drink throughout the trial,” she tells them. “And Hermes, Hades has express interest in shackling you to your chair. I am not sure what he expects you to do, but I wanted to warn you regardless.”
Hermes nods, soundlessly.
Eurydice sits beside Orpheus. “You okay?” she asks, gently.
“Yes. I’m just... preparing myself to see Hades.” He lowers his voice. “It’s Hermes I’m really worried about. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“He’ll be alright,” she assures him, uneasily.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Hermes sits on the far edge of the semicircle of seats, keeping Orpheus in his line of sight. He’d picked out Hades’s chair, draped with a new grey coat and placed himself directly across from it. He’d keep a close eye on the king of the dead, he’d decided, for Orpheus’s sake.
He sits in silence, separated from the rest of his side of the case. Three figures enter the room. The two men closely resemble each other. Thanatos and Hypnos, he realizes, with surprise. Orpheus looks at the ground, afraid to meet the god of death’s eyes.
“We are allies,” Thanatos announces, “To Orpheus.” The god takes a seat beside Hestia, adjacent to the rest of the room. Orpheus beams in disbelief.
Other deities trickle into the courtroom. Ares takes the first seat on the other side of the room. Aphrodite and her son, Eros, take Orpheus’s side. Demeter pulls Persephone into her arms in a long hug and takes a seat beside her daughter. The air seems to warm at their touch. The Anemoi, the four winds, side with Hades, probably due to Hyacinthus’s presence, Hermes notes. Poseidon and Zeus arrive together, taking their seats beside Ares.
Hades is last to arrive. The air prickles in his presence. Persephone turns up her lip. Orpheus squeezes Eurydice’s hand. Hermes forces himself to keep his gaze fixed on Hades as he strides to his seat. He scans his ex-employer for weapons, anything he could use against Orpheus. He finds nothing and his head aches too badly to keep searching. Hades sits and glares, his eyes trained upon Hermes. He moves his head slightly. Hermes’s vision fades to black.
He sees nothing, only hears the notes flooding over him and he feels the chains, boring into his wrists. Orpheus’s voice, so clear and effortless. He stops singing. A chair creaks. “No! No!” Orpheus screams. Blood. A stronger scent than ever before. Eurydice gasps. His vision returns. Drops of golden ichor bead on the marble floor beneath his feet.
Hestia sits at his side. “Hermes?” She hands him a handkerchief. “Your nose is bleeding. Pinch, lean back a little. Are you alright?” He nods. “Would you like something to drink? You passed out.” He shakes his head. His eyelids feel heavy. “Okay, I want you to drink something anyway.”
She hands him a glass of nectar and he takes a sip. “Would you like to lie down for a moment?”
He hears heavy footsteps approaching. Hades. “I told you, chain him up,” he growls.
“Hades, he’s clearly quite ill.” She places a hand against his forehead. “He’s running a fever. Perhaps we should delay-”
“No,” Hermes mutters. “I’m alright.”
Hades presses shackles around his wrists. He can’t find the strength to fight back. “The trial proceeds.” Hades returns to his seat.
Athena rises. “We proceed, then,” she says, uneasily. “The prosecution may give its opening statements.”
Hades dips his head. “We open, Olympus, to traitors, with more support than those who abide by the law. To the lesser crimes of the foolish Orpheus, willing to unwind the binds of death for his selfish desire for the girl he forgot.” Hermes sees Orpheus draw in a small breath. Eurydice whispers something to him.
“And the true cause for our gathering,” Hades continues, “Hermes. Impressive, I must admit, just how much of his contract he managed to break. Willing to betray his own family for the good of a mortal boy and his worthless lover.” Eurydice’s expression hardens, burning with anger. She sips from the glass beside her, hiding her fury. “Pathetic and foolish is his love of mortals. Even now, he betrays us, refusing to provide evidence before the court, simply because it incriminates a red-blooded boy. He hides from us the contract of Eurydice, a shade of Hadestown, returned to life by his maddened endeavors.”
“How, Olympus, do you side with these cowards? Do the laws of our land mean nothing to you? Your very sustenance relies on the preservation of death. Without it, your precious world would be overrun by long-dead shades, many of them criminals. Murderers, thieves, vain enough to proclaim themselves above you. Today, let us prevent the fall of your civilized world. Let us uphold the borders that protect us and punish those who dare to tear them down.” He lowers himself methodically back into his seat.
Athena stands once more. “And the defense’s response. Lord Hades, the reason for Orpheus’s support is this: Olympus does not find your actions redeemable. This mortal boy walked into your realm on his own two legs. He sang a song, so beautiful, the world wept for his love. He reminded you, he reminded all of us what it means to lead. That strength is not found in cruelty and fear, but in love and respect. He stood before the King of the Dead and he sang. If that is cowardice, there is no bravery.”
Orpheus smiles. She continues, “You allowed him safe passage home, so long as he did not break your terms. He was not to sing until he reached the surface. Although his memory faded with the fog of the River Lethe, he did not break his contract. Still, you sent shades to hunt him down and blackmailed Thanatos into bringing you his soul. You tortured Orpheus, deprived an already injured and starved young man of food and drink and forced him to sing at your will until he could not force out another note. Once you discovered he was no longer of use, you stuck a knife through his stomach and left him to die, alone in the dark.” Hermes notices Orpheus’s misery at remembering his days in Hades’s prison. Orpheus sips his drink to distract himself.
“We are inclined to side with the truth and that Orpheus is a traitor is a lie. Broken contracts hold nothing to the crimes of Hades. The law exists to govern our morality. When the law is wrong, it is our job to uphold justice. Not in the name of the papers we signed, but in the name of what is just. Let us do today what is just: acquit the defendants and honor them for their gifts of springtime. Now, albeit unconventionally, I ask for a song.”
Orpheus strums his lyre and sings his first notes. His song washes the room with an incredible warmth. A murmur goes about the crowd as flowers begin to bloom in the vast hall, wrapping chair legs in vines, springing from the ground. His shoulders drop, his fear fades as he sings. His song recites love. Not just his own. Not only Hades’s.
Apollo is struck all over again by the first time he’d seen Hyacinthus, his beautiful Spartan prince, outlined against the sunrise. Achilles remembers Patroclus, racing him through Peleus’s halls. Artemis sees Callisto, her eyes glinting in the moonlight as they hunt, side by side. Even Hera feels the old flutter in her chest, some tiny spark of love for her husband, love she’d long since extinguished. Persephone feels the change of her husband’s heart. How he sees her, how he knows what must be done.
Not a single note is out of place, not a single line is forgotten. Orpheus’s song is a song of love and warmth. A song of hope for what might be. What is now, so long as he keeps singing. And this time, his voice doesn’t fail him. He does not falter. He only sings and sings, until every flower on Olympus and on the ground faces him. Until his voice reaches Hadestown and echoes off the distant walls and the workers join the chorus, singing with a new vigor. His springtime is not the springtime of legends. It is more. It is hope for a new world, freedom from the past. And he keeps singing.
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The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch1)
Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)
Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom's memory being the most obnoxious of them.
Is it possible to stop Tom's past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?
Notes:
I've actually had this idea ever since the first or second time I read Chamber of Secrets. Though Tom has never been my favorite character, I found young Tom interesting, and I always thought things would have gone differently if he had come back when he was Harry's age. I was always curious if he could have been redeemed if things had gone this way. Now, I know JK Rowling purposely wanted to create an irredeemable villain, so she wouldn't have redeemed him even then, but I wanted to write a fic playing with that idea.
Despite having had this idea for a long time, I didn't write it because I was afraid I'd bite off more than I could chew, and wouldn't finish. But this last time I read Chamber of Secrets, I decided I'd just go for it. I'm still afraid I won't finish, as this is the longest premise of any of my fics posted, (and I haven't finished any of my other, shorter, long fics...) but I didn't want that to stop me from at least trying out the idea. Even if I don't finish it, at least I'll have something to show for it!
All that being said, if you like this fic and do want me to continue...please please please consider commenting, and/or reblogging. Writing fics like this is a lot of effort, and while I do write them for my own enjoyment...it is still very difficult for me to find the motivation to continue them. Sometimes one comment can mean the difference between me gaining the motivation to continue, and leaving the fic behind.
Also, if there are any artists who are interested in drawing cover art for this fic don't hesitate to say so!! You can comment so below, or message me!!
Chapter 1:
He didn’t know how fitting it was.
Tom Riddle didn’t know just how fitting it was that the first two things he sensed after waking up were the sound of crying, and the stench of blood.
He didn’t remember how much of his past—or perhaps one could call it his future—was comprised of tears, blood, muffled screaming, and the words avada kadavra! hissed in a cold, high voice that was surely not his own.
Right now, he didn’t remember much of anything at all.
Sixteen years or sixty, he remembered none of pain, the loss, or the victory.
All he knew in this moment was that world was damp and cold, it smelled like death, and someone was weeping.
That was the world to him; an ink spill on living canvas. A hole made in screaming pages.
The sound of weeping was the first thing he knew in this new life—(or this old life, made new)—it echoed and filled the place—whatever the place was—like the slow drip of water in an empty cave; tiny on its own, mistakable in a crowd, but sharp, vast, and overpowering when the world was hollow.
And the world did feel hollow.
He did not wake to a warm, dry hospital bed, a fire, and a heap of get-well cards. His family did not surround him, showering him with love and gratitude, asking what he did and did not remember, and what had happened to their sweet boy. No one held up pictures, pointing to the scenes and people within them fervently demanding remember?!, praying amnesia would leave him sooner rather than later.
Instead he woke to a place in which every sensation burned: cold searched for weaknesses in his damp cloak and slithered across his skin; the smell of blood bored into his nostrils, enough he could almost taste it; and the longer he heard the wailing it burned in his ears too.
Burned because it hurt his heart not just his ears? Because it was sad? Because it mattered, and he needed to know what was wrong?
Surely not.
Burned because it was annoying, and he wanted to shut it up. Burned because it wasn’t a nice sound to wake up to, and whoever they were ought to have more courtesy for orphan boys who just wanted to wake up in peace.
Everything burned because something about feeling, sensing anything at all, was…oddly unfamiliar. Not strange as in a new way; it was like something he once knew well that had been forgotten, left behind for a while, like nostalgia.
And if simply living was this foreign…how long had it been since he was last alive? How long had he been a ghost? And what brought him back to his body?
He opened his eyes.
Sight didn’t change the impression he had received from his other senses; mostly it just added ‘dark’ to the list of not-very-nice things the world was made of. And due to this fact, sight didn’t burn nearly as much as his other senses. Still, the world was crisper, more colorful, somehow, despite its drab nature…
He was in a chamber, a dungeon of sorts—probably underground. Stones and statues, turned brownish-green in the humid atmosphere, lined the walls. Snakes poked their heads out at him from the walls, their eyes glittering as if they’d come alive at any moment. And before him was a particularly large statue of a bearded man.
But, as he sat up, his clothing—long, black robes, with a green patch on the chest—clinging to him uncomfortably, there were a few things sight showed him worth noting:
The first, most obvious, was the gigantic snake lying beneath the statue some ways down the chamber, its scaly green tail glistening in the low light. It was clearly dead; lying still, its belly up. There was blood where its lifeless eyes had been scratched blind, and a hole in the roof of in its gaping mouth, one of its front fangs missing. This was most likely the source of the foul smell. How long had it been dead? Couldn’t have been long, considering the other things around the room…
The second, what may have once been a book. This one was very close to himself. Its pages were ripped out of their bindings, in shreds, surrounding him like fresh snowfall. The leather cover had many holes and gashes in it, apparently made by the missing fang, which also lay beside the book, blackened ink on its tip—(but can words bleed?)—the book mutilated beyond repair. This was one of the strangest sights. It was almost as if someone—probably the person crying—blamed it for their problems and took their anger out on it, before that anger became the sorrow that resonated through the chamber now.
The third was a gleaming orange and red bird, long tail feathers unfurled on the floor, like a flame, its head held high, sitting quietly beside the mourner. It didn’t look like it didn’t belonged in such a grim place—like a rich person walking in a slum.
There was another glittering thing beside him: a silver sword with jewels encrusted in the hilt. This was likely the cause of the snake’s death, especially considering it had blood coating it.
A little way from it was a pile of raggedy brown fabric. …He couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be.
The sixth: the source of the crying, a boy. He had unruly black hair, and his black robes—(the same robes, he noted, that he himself was wearing, or very similar)—were christened with the blood and slime of beasts—(and maybe men, he couldn’t know)—and ink. He was possessed by the demon that was tragedy; his entire form shaking, heaving, whether from sadness or rage, or both, only time, and a healthy dose of good questioning would tell.
The last thing of note, and what was most likely the source of the tears: a corpse. A girl specifically, with red hair—almost as fiery as the bird’s feathers—ashen skin, and, once again, the black robes—(must be a uniform of some sort). Perhaps they were at a school? Quite a dreary school it was, if so. She was small, apparently young.
The scene was both a lot, and not much, to go on.
Three living things—one without memory, another without peace—two dead, and four inanimate, one of the inanimate things more mauled more than any of the living or dead.
His mind started to provide theories about the scene,
Theory one:
The snake had killed the girl, the boy had taken up the sword and killed it in outrage.
Made sense, but that still left the diary, the bird, and himself. As well as the pile of fabric…
He didn’t see the bird having a big role in this; his best guess was that it belonged to the boy, as it seemed loyal to him, sharing his grief, and that its role was the scratch marks on the snake’s eyes, helping the boy defeat it.
Theory two: The girl had written something in her diary the boy didn’t like, perhaps something about he himself. He had torn the diary apart, and in a jealous rage sent his pet snake after her, but regretted it after the snake went too far and killed her, and decided to kill it after all.
Theory three: Reverse of roles; the diary was the boy’s, and she had found it, and he was either mad she found it and tore it, or she had after finding something she didn’t like in it, potentially about him, and the offended party let loose the snake.
Theory four: The snake belonged to neither of them, it was by accident they happened to wake it, or stumble into its home while fighting about this diary.
But why did they find an underground chamber the best place for an argument? Did they live here? Was this a normal place for them to spend time? Like some sort of secret hideaway? Were they in hiding from something?
Four(a): Or else were they on some quest to find it—was the snake guarding treasure? Did the diary hold the map to it, and they tore it simply to keep anyone else from finding it, or else falling into the same trap?
Theory five: The diary was Tom’s. He had some relationship to one or both of them that went awry.
Five(a): The snake was Tom’s, and he had set it loose on the girl for some reason, perhaps he was the jealous and angry party here.
Theory six: The snake didn’t kill the girl.
Six(a): She was already dead or dying before the snake even arrived. Maybe the snakes venom, or something else about this chamber, was meant to cure her and failed.
Six(b): The boy killed her. Perhaps in his aforementioned jealous rage he had took the sword to her himself, and now he regretted it.
Six(c): Tom killed her.
He sat up, blinking at the dreary universe. The boy didn’t hear him, just kept on crying. It was a very tiresome noise to hear so constantly.
He reached over and, quietly as possible, drew the diary closer. What made its disfigurement all the stranger was that every page he could see appeared blank. People didn’t usually have qualms with blank diaries—it was the words that people were so touchy about.
When he lifted up the cover, he could see beneath the gashes a name: Tom Marvolo Riddle.
The sight of the name sent a curious sensation through his stomach; he didn’t remember who it belonged to, but the name set a fire boiling in his gut, a bubbling, swirling, writhing fire within him. A fire that threatened to destroy everything around it too.
He looked up at the mourner. Was that his name? Or was the girl, in fact, a very petite, long-haired boy? Did the diary belong to no one present, and it was the secrets within, not the owner, that mattered? But there were no words at all, let alone any secrets…
Or…was it perhaps his own? His own name that he didn’t even remember.
Sitting here theorizing wasn’t going to get him any closer to the truth.
It didn’t seem like a good idea to disturb the boy in his grief, but he didn’t have much choice—losing your memory is an ordeal of its own, you know.
He got to his feet—this sensation too didn’t feel completely mundane to him. Everything felt nostalgic— like in some fond childhood he walked, and smelled, and saw, and heard, but as he grew up, sense left him, and he forgot what it meant to be alive. His damp clothes clung to his body, making him shiver.
His footstep broke the atmosphere; the first new sound in the stagnant place, the pieces of peace cutting through the tears. The boy gasped—the kind of raw gasp, full of dread and despair, one takes when they realize the dragon is awake.
But the dragon in this particular chamber was slain…
His slow steps filled the chamber, an ominous repetition, the ticking of a clock.
When he got close, the boy’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, the metal twinkling in the dim light, scraping and clattering on the stone as it moved.
“I’d stay back if I were you,” his voice was soft but solid, dangerous, wet with tears, shaking with rage, hoarse from screaming.
Tom stopped. He didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Hmm…What to ask? ‘Why’s that?’ ‘What happened here?’ ‘Who are you, who was she, and, while you’re at it, who am I?’
The scene was still fresh; if he touched the embers it might reignite.
“And…If you were me, what would you do?” he decided to ask. Speech, words forming on his tongue, felt odd too… but it was the sound of his voice that caught him most off guard…why? Had he been expecting to hear something different?
It was an odd question; he could tell the boy wasn’t expecting it. He paused. Then he scoffed,
“I’ll never be like you.” Then his voice grew quiet and dangerous, “But if I were in your place…I would run. As far away as I could, and as fast as I could, before I found out what the famous Harry Potter is capable of when you take something important from him.”
An even odder response.
The boy turned. One of his most defining features was the circular-rimmed, cracked glasses he wore. That, and the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, which was red and irritated. Seeing this scar, for some reason, made ire rise in Tom’s throat too. His glasses shielded eyes of a bright green which also heralded from a distant memory.
Bright, but dark. A green that pierced the veil of shadows, yet reflected the rest of the world. He wondered if he had ever seen such hatred in someone’s eyes before, in that past he didn’t remember. They burned as bright as the bird by his side, bright as the girl’s hair. They were bright enough to set the chamber ablaze, dark enough to enact the threats in all the room’s corners. Yet his name didn’t immediately come to mind.
Harry Potter. That was what he said his name was. Once said aloud, the name was more familiar than sensation itself; a burning scar upon his mind, never quite healed. The name was rage, and humiliation itself to him…though he couldn’t place the source of these emotions; no memories came to mind.
They were enemies.
Only two names he knew so far, and both sent the same sort of mad fury through him. Curious.
He couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Twelve years old was quite the young age to be defeating monsters, watching girls die, and to hold such hatred in one’s eyes. Very young to be so hated by he himself. He was just a kid, did he/this harry potter really deserve all this?
Why did they hate each other so much? Was it normal for him to hate twelve-year-old boys? Come to think of it, how old was he himself? He sounded young, not much older than him. But he didn’t feel young. Why did he hate him so much? It was starting to look like Theory six(c) might be the most likely.
He didn’t take his advice. He didn’t know much about himself, but he didn’t think he was one to take people’s advice, especially not that of his enemies. In ignorant defiance he took a step forward.
“Stay back!” Harry Potter barked, as vicious as a loyal guard dog.
That same hatred he felt buzzed behind his words.
Another step.
He held up the sword.
“I’m warning you.” Tom knew the threat in his voice was very real.
Yet he came closer. Close enough to see the face of the girl.
He didn’t recognize her. Predictable, but aggravating. He had hoped that perhaps seeing her would bring him to his senses. Alas, she was just a dead girl.
He leaned in closer.
“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!” the boy’s words, along with the sword, were at his throat without a second to spare.
He simply flicked his gaze to him; no sign of shock or emotion at his outburst on his features.
The world must burn for this boy too. Burn, not because of sensation itself was strange, but because what he felt was currently was too much to bear.
Hatred, horror, heartbreak…hell. It all blazed and overflowed in his eyes.
Tom backed up one step, then another, and kept backing away until the sword was no longer close to his skin. Harry could have easily followed him, keeping the threat alive, but it seemed staying by the girl, protecting her lifeless body was his highest priority—Why? What could he possibly do now that she was dead? Was he prone to mutilate dead girls? Was his touch gross enough on its own to warrant such violence?
The anger was still white-hot, but confusion was in the boys’ eyes too now.
Yup, six(c) seemed pretty likely.
So, how had he lost his memory? He himself didn’t seem hurt in the slightest physically, he didn’t even have so much as a spitting headache to tell him he’d knocked his head hard enough to lose his memory. It didn’t appear as though he and the boy had dueled, despite the indication they were opponents, and the sword in his hand. Nothing indicated how he could lose his memory, or why…or, come to think of it, why he was still alive.
If it was true he had killed her, that they were enemies, why hadn’t Harry killed him in his sleep? He surely had the chance, in the midst of all the wailing. Why didn’t he walk up to him, send that sword through him and be done with it? Why didn’t he fight him, run him through, now? Tom was clearly unarmed, and Harry was likely the one who killed the snake, clearly he had the upper hand, the power to do so. It all made too much sense.
He could tell he wanted to.
…The diary. It must be connected to everything. Would it reveal the truth of the situation, and his lost memories? Everything seemed to trace back to it. From the looks of things, it was the source of the scene…and it was the most confusing part of the scenario. If he started with it, perhaps he could get somewhere.
He sauntered back to it, crouched down and picked up the mangled cover, staring at the name, the holes where someone—presumably Harry—had stabbed it, a few blank pages hanging limply out of the binding. But why would he hurt an inanimate diary?
“Who’s Tom Riddle?” he asked.
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