#especially for goblin history

[miss-m-winks]

Love is an Art, part 5

master post, part 4, part 6

Previously: Kouto and Talib met up for their first bonus session. Now it’s time for class again! Just a short chapter.

Talib walked down the path to the pottery studio, glancing up at the cloudy patchwork over the blue sky. Ahead of him, a few other students were also headed to the studio. One was slender and dark-haired, wearing a tight sleek bun and a shirt that looked far too fine for the mess of damp clay.

“Kouto?” They paused and turned, smiling. “Oh, hi Talib! Your eye is green today, I like that.” They waited for him to catch up so they could walk together. “I don’t think I’ll have much to do today, since you’re all just doing a critique, but professor Rutfang said she might want me to pose again to help with the critique.” Talib nodded.

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous,” he admitted. “I kinda miss just doing wheel pottery. Or wood carving, that’s fun. Maybe next quarter I’ll try a wood carving class.” Kouto hummed, opening the pottery studio door ahead of Talib.

“We should try to hang out some time,,” they said. “I’d like to see your other work. I could show you my art too.”

“That would be nice.” Talib set his bag on the shelf, and Kouto waved at him before they slipped into the storage closet to change into their bathrobe once more. Professor Rutfang nodded at the students on their way in.

“Alright, get your sculptures and sit down. You made your first messy figure sculptures last class, you had time to step away and give them a rest, and now we’re going to look at them again.” She stood to the side of the platform in the middle of the tables, arms folded as she waited. Talib pulled out his tools and claimed a spot at the tables, then brought his sculpture off the shelf. Gilik came over soon after, sitting beside him again with a friendly smile.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, me too.” Gilik giggles. “But I’m also excited. After today, we’ll get the really big project.” Talib nodded. The first sculpture got everyone used to the idea of making a person out of clay. But the rest of the quarter was supposed to be focused on making one good sculpture as a final project, and lots of smaller quick sculptures in between.

When the students were all settled in, professor Rutfang spoke up again.

“So, as I explained at the start of the quarter, once you had experience with general sculpting techniques, you’d get to work with a model. And now that you’ve all made your first live figure sculpture, we’re going to do a critique, discuss some methods for sculpting faster and more accurately, and introduce the big assignment I expect you to finish by the end of the quarter.” She looked around at the class and nodded. “Peer critique first. Go ahead and work with your table partner to look over your sculptures, talk about them for the next fifteen minutes.” She waved her hand and sat down at the edge of the platform.

“Well, here’s mine.” Gilik removed the waxed bark cloth from her sculpture. The clay looked rather smooth, all pressed into place by her naturally damp amphibian fingers. “I did come in during open studio to fix the seams,” she explained. “I’m actually kind of happy with it. The bent leg might be a little off, and the head is wonky. But I like the rest.” Talib nodded, looking over her work. The head was wonky, entirely asymmetrical. It tilted towards one shoulder.

“I like the wonky look. Adds character.” Talib smiled at Gilik. She snorted.

“Fine, but this is a critique. Assuming I want to get better at making more symmetrical heads, what’s your advice?” Talib hummed, leaning over to see the sculpture from a new angle. “It looks rushed. Which, you know, makes sense. I think you got the body shape down pretty well. The head is tilting prety hard to the right. I think if you spent more time correcting it from every angle, you could fix that.” Gilik nodded, turning the sculpture around. “You’re right, I didn’t do a proper turn around for the head. What do you think of this leg though?”

“It looks like the clay might have sagged there. I made that leg by carving it out instead of building it up.” Talib removed the cloth on his sculpture to show it to Gilik. “I thought mine was a little off too, but if I look at yours next to mine, I think I can see where the clay might have sagged on yours where in my case it’s just that I carved it weird.” Gilik leaned closer to his work.

“Ah, I see what you’re saying. And I can see that you also rushed the head.”

“I think we all did,” Talib remarked, glancing around the room. Most of the sculptures seemed to have tilting heads, pinched or nonexistent faces. “Guess Rutfang’s going to focus on that, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Gilik straightened up. “Can I see the back of your sculpture?” She turned hers around to show that side on hers as well. Talib shifted his piece, revealing the back of it. “Oh, that looks really good,” Gilik said. “I can even see the shoulder blades.” She gestured with a finger, careful not to touch it. Talib nodded.

“I guess I spent more time looking at the model’s back than their front. I think they were facing me more towards the end, and that’s when I tried to switch my focus to their head.” Professor Rutfang interrupted before Gilik could say more, calling the class to attention. “Alright, wrap up and come together.” She waited a moment until everyone was quiet and facing her. “From what I’ve seen and heard, I know most of you had some similar difficulties with this project. When you’re sculpting faster and don’t have time to perfect the whole thing, it’s easy to get focused on one part and then rush other parts.” The class murmured in agreement, sheepish smiles and averted glances proving her point.

“You’ve gotten used to having more time to work on a full piece, which is the usual way of doing things. But I think it’s important to learn some skills that will speed up your process.” She gestured Kouto over as she spoke. “Instead of making your sculpture one part at a time, you should try to focus on multiple areas in shorter bursts. It helps with proportion accuracy, and it can prevent your sculptures from looking amazing in one area and sloppy in another.”

Talib looked down at his piece, all detailed in the torso but with a very unfinished head. He looked back up to see Kouto was taking their position again, leaving the bathrobe aside. Professor Rutfang started into her lecture, using her own lump of clay to demonstrate the techniques she was discussing.

She settled the basic proportions of the sculpture quickly, forming the body in stacked chunks and quickly shaving them down or building them up to size. She corrected the pose and then fixed the seams with slip, smoothing them out. Her rapid sculpture was small, but the speed and accuracy were still impressive. She described each step as she worked, so the whole class could understand what she was doing.

“And from there, you can start adding your detail and correcting the pose as you get new angles to work from. But there’s a lot you can infer about the full figure even if you only look from one angle.” She walked around Kouto’s platform, giving it a gentle push so it turned with her. Kouto looked like they were trying to suppress an amused smile. “For the rest of the quarter, I want you to make small quick sculptures of our model in different poses. One a week, two class sessions per pose. They’ll be imperfect. But they’ll teach you some important skills.” Professor Rutfang stopped walking and the platform came to a slow halt. Standing still with her clay-coated hands against her hips, she silently glanced around the room.

“Now, of course, you can’t always rely on being able to sculpt a live model during every step of your process. You might be using a model to get an accurate pose for a historical or fictional figure. Or perhaps your personal work is more stylized, and working with a model simply won’t help. And in general, you probably won’t have access to a model every time you sculpt.” She nodded towards the sculpture wall, where she kept her own finished works as well as those of some past students and a few master works.

“The famous statue of Goug’ele’s Triumph, made by Tahlrin Pelok after the goblin revolution. It took him months to complete. He started it some years after the World Declaration on Personhood was written. He couldn’t have Goug’ele themself come stand in that exact pose for days on end.” She cracked a smile. “He actually asked a few different goblins to pose for him, and the majority of the work was done without a model reference.” The class took interest, examining the statue’s smaller copy on the shelf. Gilik grinned.

“Some of my ancestors fought alongside Goug’ele,” she whispered to Talib. He nodded in reply, but cast his glance towards Kouto, recalling their interest in the art of the goblin revolution. Professor Rutfang continued speaking.

“So, for your big project that I expect you to complete by the end of the quarter,” she said, drawing their attentions back, “I want each of you to make a unique sculpture of your choice. It must be a sculpture of a person, and it must have a realistic style. You can make sketches and small practice pieces to plan it out. You might take interest in one of the poses from a class session and decide to use it. No matter what you choose to do, you will of course need to work on it during open studio hours, when you will not have a model to work with.” “So it doesn’t have to be anyone specific?” one student asked. Professor Rutfang nodded.

“Any species, any gender. I have many reference sculptures you can look at to get inspiration. I’ve had past students do self portraits, even.” She laughed. “Bold choice, that. It’s entirely up to you.” A few other students asked clarifying questions about the size, whether or not they could glaze it, and if they could add extra details like having the figure sit on a stump, or hold an object. When the questions stopped, professor Rutfang cleared her throat and addressed the class one more time.

“So, I think that covers it all. If you find that you don’t have enough time to make your big project, come talk to me and I’ll let you into the extra closed sessions. They happen in the evenings, the day before each class session. Kouto has generously volunteered their time there. All that aside, with the remaining time you have today, I just want you all to take the sculptures you have now and see how much you can do to fix them up.” She stepped aside, and the room became noisy with the sounds of tools being picked up and set down, water dripping as it was used to dampen clay, and students chatting quietly with their table partners.

Kouto’s platform had come to a stop facing Talib’s table. He lifted his gaze, briefly making eye contact with Kouto while he worked on fixing the clay recreation of their face. They broke their neutral expression to smile at him, reassuring and friendly. He smiled back, and he felt the tension in his mind loosen up, making him just a little less worried about all the work he’d have to finish in the next weeks.

--- As the figure sculpting class wrapped up, Kouto stepped back into the storage closet to get dressed. Packing the bathrobe into their bag and stepping out, they looked around for Talib, only to find he must have left already.

“Oh,” Kouto mumbled, “suppose he had something else to get to.” They shouldered their bag and left the studio amongst the lingering students, still unable to spot Talib anywhere. With a short sigh, they put a smile back on their face and turned off the path to get to their next class.

#winks writing #love is an art #writeblr #romance writing #do u have any idea how hard it is to come up with fictional history facts and names on the fly #especially for goblin history #the things i do to myself for writing lol

[hotgrrlbummer]

really been enjoying all the people recommending some of their favorite stuff on one of my more recent posts so im making one just so we can all do that for eachother, i’ll start:

movies

the lighthouse

everything everywhere all at once

the grand budapest hotel

books

house of leaves (my favorite of all time)

the secret history

killing commendatore

shows

succession (also my favorite of all time)

barry

any mike flannagan mini series they all slap (haunting of hill house, bly manor or midnight mass)

#tried to add variety especially to my movie recs #90% of the movies i like are horror lmao #also branch out! #add podcasts or video games or music or whatever!!! #this is for fun suggest as many or as few things as you like lmao #unintelligible goblin noises #succession #barry hbo #haunting of bly manor #haunting of hill house #the grand budapest hotel #midnight mass #the lighthouse #everything everywhere all at once #eeaao #house of leaves #the secret history #killing commendatore #haruki murakami #darkacademia

[cock-holliday]

Liking fantasy creatures that have been around for centuries isn’t automatically antisemitism lmao. If you see happy merchant in those goblin books, that’s on you. Genuine spacelazarwolf brain rottage. I’m jewish, and I’m ashamed to see antisemitism discourse go down the same route of the “ogres & black people” debacle from a few years back.

reading comprehension: -1/10

i didn't say liking goblins means you're antisemitic, what I said is that lots of goblin shit leans on antisemitic stereotypes, goblincore overlaps a lot with cottagecore which is riddled with white supremacist issues and so this, combined with a paraphrase of a white supremacist trad phrase makes for a bad combo on the edge of some heavy shit

Personally I don't give a shit if you like goblincore, what I said is people on purpose or by accident hang around in this grey zone of white supremacist memery to the point that it's difficult to tell if people really understand what they are tetering towards

I don't think everyone or 99% of the people who uses the "change my mind" meme are conservative shitheads, but do they know they're putting a conservative shithead on everyone's dash every time? Do people know where pepes and wojaks and so many reddit/4chan memes come from? Where lizard people memes are from? Where the muscle/chad/swole guy representing the right opinion is actually the (not-so) secret view of nazi?

People outright quote "reject modernity embrace tradition" as a funny slogan to parody and don't seem to realize it's a literal fascist catchphrase?

I'm simply asking for people to be aware of the insidious creep of white supremacist references into daily life and that if it's an accident that it made it into your vocab and jokes and books then walk back from it because you leave open the door for people who MEAN it as a nazi phrase. Because white supremacists and nazis are USING MEMES to appeal to recruits, to cloak themselves in public life, and form comradery with people who would never consider themselves nazis.

I'M jewish and I'm ashamed to see "antisemitic caricatures are a you-problem actually" from people, especially someone pulling the Jew card in my inbox. Yeah, maybe it's just an accident, but think about why you keep making money-hungry little thieves with hook noses and curly dark hair as a combo? What is it about that combination that goes together for you? What could it accidentally be implying? What is the history behind this?

Think about what these are on the fence of, what it is making excuses for, what it is making a norm, and what kind of ground that can cede for something more explicitly fascist, you dildo.

Oh, and fuck you, spacelazarwolf was probably right about whatever specifically made you shit your pants. Gee I wonder what "space Lazar" could be a pun about, hm, guess we'll never know--must be some made up outrage...

#ask #anon ask #like what was the purpose of this? #I literally said in the post I'm not even one of the people dying on the hill of you can't like goblincore #I said hey mayhaps be a little aware? #and here you come with stompy boots and horse blinders

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercenaries finding random kid in the base. Who will punt the child and who will take care of it

Oh boy.

The TF2 Mercs finding a random little toddler in the base

Warnings: Thankfully none?

Scout:

- Oh god oh fuck oh shit. Stiffens up when a random fucking toddler runs by him in the hallway. He was just on his way to grab some more energy drinks from the fridge. Who let this little shit into a war zone?! Scout’s brotherly instincts kick in pretty damn quick and runs to grab the child before they could get into any artillery.

- Talks to a child how he’d talk to a normal adult. Just with less cursing and petty condescension. “The heck you doin’ here?” etc.. While the toddler completely ignores him. Bounces the little thing up and down a little. Scout’s actually had decent socialization with kids before due to his huge family.

- Scout doesn’t realize how comforting he is to a young developing mind. He’d make a great father and adamantly denies it. Partly due to his own father’s… untimely disappearance let’s just say. The other mercs are kinda floored how someone as annoying and troublesome as Scout has even the slightest amount of paternal instincts. Especially Spy. Hmm, for some reason he looks completely destroyed and devastated.

- Scout rolls a baseball on the ground with the kid and teases them lightly while Miss Pauling — stressed out of her mind — tries to find resources for this situation and figure out how a child of all things managed to end up in the middle of a battlefield. Let’s just pretend Spy isn’t standing there with his head in his hand. Realizing the consequences of his own past actions with utter depression written all over his outward body language.

————————————————————————

Soldier:

- DO NOT LET A CHILD NEAR SOLDIER. NEVER. DO NOT FUCKING DO IT.

- Are you insane? Are the parents insane? Is everyone in the world fucking insane? Soldier is practically an oversized toddler. He’d immediately make friends upon finding the child and give them a shitty nickname related to war in some way. Like “Captain diapers” or “Lieutenant Titsucker.” Now everyone else has to suffer soldier insisting the baby is his now.

- Tries to teach the child how to shoot a gun. Does not blow over well with literally all the mercs combined. Tries to read them the art of warfare and Heavy secretly has to switch that book out for a children’s fairytale mid story. Leaving soldier confused as to why the alleged warfare book contained faries and unicorns. “AND THEN MR. UNICORN SAID TO HIS FRIEND THE FAIRY: WHAT LOVELY LOCKS YOU HAVE. DEAR GOD!! THIS MUST BE SOME ADVANCED MILITARY STRATAGEM BEYOND MY UNDERSTANDING! GOD BLESS AMERICA AND ITS OUTSTANDING STEADFAST PROGRESSION!”

- Miss Pauling is absolutely livid when she finds out Soldier gave the baby a buzz cut. How the FUCK is she supposed to explain that to the parents? How the fuck is she supposed to explain that their lost child will come back knowing half the entire history of WWI now and knows how to recite the pledge of allegiance at like two years old?!

—————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- Demoman is initially pretty awkward. Quickly downs like several glasses of water in one sitting because it would obviously be a horrible example if he was drunk in front of a minor. He sits them down and tries to ask questions like where their parents were, and failing to understand the child’s not yet fully developed speech. Demoman suddenly empathizes what people mean when they can’t understand his scottish accent. Well shit. Looks like he has a little goblin in his care for a few hours.

- Demoman has a headache now. Surprisingly not from the child’s excited screeching and playing but the previously mentioned alcohol he had to manage with water. “Aye.. Quiet down a bit there..” He says flatly. Miserably holding his head while the child bounces around with endless energy. Maybe babysitting while recovering from intoxication wasn’t the best idea. He gave the kid some empty bomb shells to play with. Even bothered to draw faces on them to humor the kid.

- The child holds one of the shells up to his face “This is bob! Say hi!” they exclaim. Demoman stares at bob tiredly. Taking the shell into two fingers. “Guess you could say bob is the bomb.” The kid manages to stutter out. Which then immediately snaps demoman out of his exhaustion for a split second and causes him to choke on the water laughing his ass off. The kid’s laughing too. Overall the least insane experience the poor kid could have in the team’s base.

———————————————————————

Engineer:

- A small baby is in the intel room, trying to reach the briefcase. Naturally, the sound of the intelligence shifting in the other room would catch Engineer’s ears faster than anyone else’s. Especially considering the stats on his PDA show something bumped against one of his sentries on its way in.

- He enters the room pretty slowly. He knew whatever it was, it wasn’t a threat. Nothing that could bap his sentry with the force of a feather would be strong enough to fend him off. Let alone the patrolling sentry — which should have activated and began shooting by now. A blank, emotionless expression on his face as always, Engineer’s eyes trailed to the level three sentry. Which kept idly spinning from side to side and beeping passively. Completely ignoring the… Little child near the intel desk?!

- Engineer grinned, put his wrench on his shoulder and went over, sliding the briefcase away from the little one. “Oop! You don’t wanna get your grubby little paws on that thing, pardner. That there is for the adults, ya got that?” He said in a lighter tone. Very much unlike his usual rasp and frankly unintentionally scary deep voice. He didn’t care that the poor thing started whining. Dell reached down and ruffled the child’s hair. “Now, now. I know it’s disappointing.”

- Not even when the child hugged his legs and called him dada, not even when Miss Pauling asked to watch them for a bit. Engineer was like a nonchalant father lion tolerating his cub’s obnoxious little bites. A child could push his buttons to hell and back and Engineer would just sit there like there wasn’t a screaming child on his lap while he read the Tuefort newspaper.

————————————————————————

Heavy:

- If heavy were to be near a child in any capacity, it would make him nervous. His sisters were a different story. They’re family. But wild encounters with the beasts? What should he do? He doesn’t know them, and frankly he hates the idea of having kids. They’re way too much work, money, and his inner child wasn’t healed enough to take on another one. In a weird sort of way he’d be taking care of two.

- as he stares blankly at the little devil in front of him, the one he found trying to touch Sasha, he contemplated throwing them into the stratosphere like a baseball. His strong disliking for children didn’t come from a place of genuine malice however. He was envious that they still had youth and time to pursue everything they ever wanted. Heavy wanted to do many things in his lifetime and he felt that it was ripped from him due to the poverty he lived through.

- He recalled the time he made a child one time during Halloween and decided not to repeat that. He’ll pick up the child and shove it into Pyro’s room.. With a million dollars in the kid’s hand.

——————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Speaking of Pyro, they’re quite similar to Heavy in the sense that their inner child isn’t healed. But Pyro is once again able to destroy everybody’s outlook on them when they are capable of adeptly playing with children without ever hurting them. Especially catering to their personal needs depending on age. Can and will silently warm up a teddy bear in the microwave and hand them a bottle of chocolate milk.

- Pyro is extremely good at this, all things considered. They seem to have a pretty surface level understanding of childhood psychology and the proper ways to enforce a gentle parenting style. Which only adds to the mysterious era of their humanity; surely a faceless monster couldn’t do the things Pyro was doing. They were too calculated, too thoughtful in their actions. It made the other mercs pretty upset to see this display. In a sense, it was border-lining uncanny valley. Nobody could shake the primitive instinct that something was inherently wrong with this. They don’t even ask for help.

- But nothing violent becomes of it. Pyro had successfully eased the child into feeling comfortable the entire time they’re there. Not a single word left their mouth the entire time. They were only staring intently and tilting their head like a curious animal at the child by the time Pauling finally found the child’s parents. Scout jokes that Pyro is simply playing with his own mouse like a cat and has to be backhanded by a very uneasy Heavy.

—————————————————————————

Sniper:

- His parents — whilst nice — had their own individual flaws that prevented them from teaching this area of life. They did not think Sniper would be ever fit to raise a child and thus neglected his want for a small family. To be fair they aren’t too far off. Sniper is an assassin for hire that drives around nomadically and eats crocodiles for dinner. In no way shape or form would that ever be a proper atmosphere for a child to grow. He took their words to heart as always. He never did pursue a child. His father was angry that Sniper even thought of the idea.

- So imagine the guilt upon seeing the little rat bastard who had wandered into the base and was stumbling around the halls. He quickly realized this kid was essentially doomed. He was the wrong person to find this poor thing. The others weren’t any better. Removing his weapons was the very first thing he does, trying his best to conceal his expression. He didn’t want the child to sense his anger and self loathing. (Kids are sorta smart like that.)

- He then…. Throws the child into Pyro’s room.

————————————————————————-

Medic:

- Walks into his medbay with a bunch of folders. Sees a child sitting on one of the hospital beds. Proceeds to freeze in place like a deer in headlights. Has to double take for a moment to make sure he’s not dreaming.

- Proceeds to ignore the child for a bit for some reason. Even when and if other mercs are present and question him, Medic hushes them for some reason. Medic is like…. Fully convinced that child is an enemy spy in disguise. He moves around the room and half-asses a “Ho! Would sure be a shame if somebody stabbed me in the back while I was organizing papers!…. I SAID it would be a SHAME if SOMEBODY STABBED ME IN THE BACK!” (He fully believes this’ll work because Medic’s superiority complex doesn’t stop at Spy. He’s fully confident that he’s smarter than Spy, and Spy is a complete bumbling moron. Like most people to Medic.)

- The child makes a weird child noise, and that’s when he knows something is up. Medic narrows his eyes and marches up to the bed, staring the child maliciously in the face. “You don’t fool me, you know..” He says, gritting his teeth. “Is your kit broken or something? I can fix it for you for free! It’ll cost you an arm and limb though! Ho! Literally.” He adds “It’s quite an unflattering disguise for someone such as yourself!”

- Child stares blankly. Toddler has no clue what’s happening right now.

- Miss Pauling walks in. “Oh! There he is! Sorry for the interruption Medic, we had a child wander into the base—“ she pauses. Seeing Medic holding his ubersaw up to the child’s chin.

- “What do you mean we had a child wander in?” He is dumbfounded, and horrified.

————————————————————————

Spy:

- Spy opens the door to his quarters and makes sure to lock it behind him, always. He has like a million booby traps set up on his door and in his room to ensure nobody goes snooping for his private information.

- He turns around, adjusting his tie. Getting ready for the trauma of the day….. Then he sees a child sitting right in front of him in the hallway. The two of them lock eyes for a moment.

- …….

- Spy cloaks away immediately.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #mod spy #spy x reader #medic x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #sniper x reader

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I had always wondered why Binns wasn't replaced or the material updated for the History of Magic classes.

However I recently realised that History is a crucial part of understanding the world's past and paving the way for future. Not to mention History is tied with Civics/ Politics and plays a role in gaining your footing in the world and navigating creature relations.

To take such a crucial element away from the students and tell them to flounder on their own (especially muggle borns and raised who don't have the resources that pureblood and even half blood children do)

Coupled with the fact that whenever Harry learns a piece of history it's always from a biased source and by word of mouth (I mean text books can also be biased but still)

What I want to say is that generations of kids were seriously screwed over by the decision to not hire another effective History teacher.

Yes!! Yes!! All of this!!!

History is such an important thing to teach (I actually think real schools, at least where I live don't do a great job at it). As you mentioned, History is crucial to understanding politics, language, economy, and so much more. In the Harry Potter world, each spell comes with its own history of how it came into being and why, which affects how the spell is cast and what its effects are.

Now, Binns was the Hogwarts history Professor for a good century at least (he taught history in 1890 in Hogwarts Legacy as a ghost already), so it's not just Dumbledore who willfully keeps generations of Hogwarts students ignorant. And I think, if we opened their school books, we'd find a very biased account of Wizarding History and the goblin rebellions.

Now, I have a bit of a conspiracy theory about this and why history and magical theory aren't properly thought. Because their school books don't really cover why spells work or why potions need one ingredient over another, which in a world of magic feels like the bare minimum. I think the education problems, both with magical theory and with history are for the same reason — control.

As you mentioned, history is crucial to finding your footing in a culture, to understanding the world around you. Someone who is ignorant of history is easier to manipulate. They would be more prone to believing biased accounts and propaganda. And it's chilling how easy it was for the ministry to paint Harry as a deranged liar in book 5 by printing it in the Prophet. Even students who spoke with Harry and knew him personally believed it.

In book 7, a good portion of their world just kept living their lives, like there wasn't a war, like the minister wasn't under the Imperius. Some of the pure-bloods and half-bloods that have nothing to fear and aren't involved with the Death Eaters or the Order, they're just, there, living like nothing's wrong. They go to school, they go to work. Because if the newspaper (that's controlled by the ministry) says everything's fine, it must be true? Right? *sarcasm*

These are all signs of a very media-illiterate community that doesn't know how to be skeptical of what they read. And learning history, learning to ask questions about history, play a big part in teaching people how to be skeptical. I mean, learning about the history of propaganda and fascist regimes helps you know what to look for and how to hopefully not fall for the same tricks.

But the Wizarding World isn't interested in that. They're interested in a calm and controllable population.

Magical theory is the same in some ways. I wrote about how magic is all about intention here and here a bit. If you are focused and have enough magic and the force of will to back it up you can do anything. You don't actually need a wand or spells to cast magic, just a strong enough wish. This is how accidental magic works. Bright wizards like Tom and even Harry can learn to control their accidental magic, proving magic doesn't need wand waving and incantations. Yes, they make casting easier but they're not necessary.

But do you know what wands are necessary for? Following and identifying wizards. Wands are used to identify wizards and forbidding the use of them by creatures adds to the treatment of creatures as second-rate citizens.

And incantations? Well, if anyone could just cast whatever without a spell, magic would be incredibly hard (I might even say impossible) to regulate. You can't define which spells are unforgivable if spells don't exist. You can't make a list of illegal dark incantations if there are no incantations.

TL;DR

The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is kind of a dystopia.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedheadcanon #hp headcanon #ministry of magic #wizarding world #harry potter meta #hollowedtheory

[earlgodwin]

“Having David Oakes and Holliday Grainger on board has instantly upped even my own anticipation of the film. They’re both incredibly gifted actors, with a shared working history from their time on ‘The Borgias’, that helped both their chemistry on screen and also the shoot itself – their short hand and comfort around each other meant we could really crack on. About 75% of the film is a back and forth between their two characters (Liz and Harry) and they were running through the entire exchange before we’d even worked out how to break it down and block it. Really amazing. Holly brought such an exasperated frustration to her role that made it impossible not to laugh, especially when paired with David’s drained but desperate Harry.” — Matt Brothers, screenwriter of 'Goblin' (2014)

#seeing them playing a messy couple after playing homicidal siblings is incredibly hilarious to me it's just sexy #i love them so much #holliday grainger #david oakes #the borgias #cinemapix #filmgifs #filmtvgifs #moviegifs #filmtv #dailytvfilmgifs #dailyflicks #dailyworldcinema #cinematicsource #cinematv #userstream #horrorfilmgifs #userscary #horrorsource #by jen

[autistichalsin]

Yes, Halsin's arc had romance and leadership and trauma and redemption for past mistakes and war and society vs nature and "pain of altruism" themes...

But his arc was just as much about a man's search for family as anything else.

Every bit of Halsin's arc was about him protecting someone he saw as family.

Act one was his family at the Grove- "the Grove became my family," he says after telling the player he lost his parents and any other family he once had long ago. If they are saved, he makes what he feels is the best choice for them and appoints a new leader of the Grove like a parent letting another parent have custody when they know they aren't the most capable caregiver. If they are sealed off by the Rite of Thorns, Halsin grieves the loss of his home and the people inside. If they are killed, he mourns too, and in either case he can't bring himself to go back and he joins the player's camp. And if they are killed by the player and he doesn't die first, he comes to kill them in retribution.

The Grove helped him through the trauma of the Shadow Curse, it helped him learn about himself as an Archdruid, it helped him realize where his heart lay- and where it didn't. Halsin loves their companionship, but hates his leadership role when it extends beyond paternalism; "it is a terrible burden," he says. He feels too comfortable in the Grove, too separate from nature, and considering how much the leadership role is tied in to his trauma over the Shadow Curse, it's no wonder he resents it. He just wants them as his family, not as his underlings.

Act two was about Thaniel. "He made me who I am today," he says. Several devnotes make it quite clear that Halsin's feelings are paternal ones, towards Thaniel and Oliver both. When he says he thinks it will be good for them to have a friend in each other when he's gone, a devnote says, "a little bittersweet: the kids are growing up." When he notes later that the two play together often in his meditations, the devnote says "proud 'father'."

It makes sense in more ways than one; not only is Halsin paternal to these two particular beings, but then, as a Druid, Halsin is a caretaker to nature itself. As the spirits of the land, of course his feelings would be doubly so, especially given their history.

But before he gets to this point, act two is about searching for family he fears losing- he is terrified for Thaniel and doesn't know if or how to save him. This is the core of his entire arc, really- his arc continues after this, but Thaniel was the most important part of his arc. He is restless and anxious before, and once they do find him, he relaxes again.

Act three is half for the player, whether a friend or a romantic partner. "The Grove became my family... and now I have you," he says as the player gets to know him. The player, who protected him, showed him kindness, saved him from the goblins and now saved his not-quite-sons from the Shadow Curse. The player who, if in a romantic relationship, lets him admit he felt lost before and helped him find himself, ease his burdens. The player who either expresses condolences for the loss of his family or (in a presumably well intentioned if slightly obsessive way) tells him he's better with them anyway, still indicating that he is wanted. The player who lets him show his playful side again, who tends to his needs just as much as the other way around (clearly an uncommon dynamic for him to be in)... He gets to find parts of himself he hasn't in a long time. And as he finds a romantic family again, he gets to start turning his thoughts to the future again. As he can tell Wyll if one plays as him, "we'll need new life when this is over." The player gives him his future back, whether a friend or romantic, along with the family bond he misses after leaving the Grove. It's an even more free, open family than at the Grove, since here he's not forced to take a leadership role and hold himself to a higher standard.

The other part of act three is Halsin seeking family in community. He sees the vulnerable in the city of Baldur's Gate and feels a connection with them- especially the children, but also the refugees. He sees how they're hurting, and he develops a dream "of a better future for those who need it," as the devnotes refer to this arc. Halsin is a person who fundamentally can't stand to see suffering, especially in the young, and the worse he hurts from seeing Baldur's Gate, the more determined he is to help them. This isn't just an act he takes out of duty as an Archdruid, though that is part of it, but it's also the act of someone who loves people and wants to help them. And he is rewarded for it- "Daddy Halsin, [the orphaned children] call me." Halsin, with his endless, deep love and empathy, finds a place where his efforts to help the defenseless allow him to find more love and connections. He gets to take on a fatherly role to nine wagon-fulls (depending on what size of wagon we're talking about, that could be dozens of children, maybe even HUNDREDS!) of children, teaching them about the traditions that are important to him, while also filling the hole left by his parents' absence- by keeping them and their beliefs alive in his interactions with what are now effectively his children.

At his core, Halsin is a lonely person throughout canon, who craves more connection; at this point in his life, it's primarily romantic love and paternal love he wants to give. Act one shows him in a situation where he has neither, and while he's not UNhappy, he's not happy either, and is all too happy to abandon his duties because it's not where he's meant to be. Act two gives him Thaniel, who he is overjoyed to finally free from the Curse, but he isn't meant to linger thanks to the battle against the Absolute. And then act three gives him the player (even if not romanced, he still feels a deep connection with them and vice versa) and, in the end, children he can finally be a father to, even if it's in a slightly different way than he imagined. And that is where he finally finds happiness and purpose.

It's a really wonderful progression for him, I think.

#halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[evilwizard]

The concept of goblins are inherently antisemitic. 💔

The concept of goblins has traditionally, for quite a long while, been associated with antisemitism. But not all goblins in folklore, especially pre-Christian folklore, are antisemitic. There was in fact a fairly-lengthy stretch of time in human history during which a “goblin” (from the Old French gobelin, itself from the Ancient Greek kobalos, meaning imp or rogue), would have been considered by most to be a particular subset of fae creature, akin to dwarves (the pre-Tolkien kind which forged weapons for the gods), gnomes, or elves (again, pre-Tolkien). Similar creatures can be found in folklore from around the world, including from Korea, Bangladesh, the Zulu people of Southern Africa, Russia, and the indigenous American Wampanoag people.

It is extremely unfortunate that, in large part due to Christian, European, and white antisemitism over the years, goblins have come to be known as purely an antisemitic stereotype. We have something of a chicken-and-the-egg situation here: early goblins didn’t have “hook-noses” and weren’t generally “greedy” so much as mischievous and otherworldly. Some of the antisemitic traits now attributed to goblins were definitely added over the years—but some, such as general ugliness (at least to a human eye) and smallness of stature, existed long before antisemitism had a chance to warp our perception of the purely-mythological creature.

We are left with a conundrum: are goblins “redeemable” in fantasy/mythological stories? If not, what do we replace them with? Attempts have certainly been made: take Kobolds, for instance. Taken from the Ancient Greek kobalos, the same root from which goblin comes, Kobolds are in part an attempt to separate earlier goblin-lore from later antisemitic additions. But do we have to change the word we use when we do this? Certainly, use of the word “goblin” has to a large extent been usurped by antisemites, but this is in part because it is one of the primary words used in modern times to refer to the group of creatures that goblins represent. Is it right, or ethically correct, to abandon this mythological concept altogether? Is the word so purely associated with antisemitic tropes now that it is impossible to ever redeem it? Can updated mythological retellings by Jewish authors be used to reclaim/respond to these prevalent antisemitic tropes?

These are all good questions, and I truly do not have the answers. I’m not an expert on this subject, and I’m not a Jew. But speaking as a person who has read/studied a lot of mythology, I would advise caution when it comes to a trope like this. Pretending antisemitism doesn’t exist here would be wrong and stupid—but pretending we can, or should, wash our hands of goblin-folklore entirely could be even more dangerous. Antisemitism in these tales are a symptom of real-world hatred and evil… but I don’t personally believe that is all this particular archetype has to offer.

I would love if we could make this post a place for careful consideration and discussion on this topic, and one where Jewish voices in particular have a place to be heard.

[terapsina]

#2 for the book worm ask game!

(ask game)

2. Favorite fantasy book(s).

(Eeeeexcellent, I do love fantasy books. Though how I'm gonna narrow it to only a few I've got no idea. Okay. I'm going to remove the very obvious choices like Lord of the Rings (though it is one of my faves)).

---

Monstrous Regiment. I love the entire Discworld series (especially The Witches) but I've also got a huge soft spot in my heart for Terry Pratchett's take on 'a girl dresses like a boy to go to war' (and thinks of everything except some spare socks in- erm... the right place). Along with Polly, the squad consists of a vampire, a troll, an Igor, a religious fanatic and two very, very close "friends" (and yes, the official summary put the friends in quotes too). And everyone has their own secret.

I love basically everything about this book and I can't tell you guys any of it because it would spoil all the fun.

The Goblin Emperor. This one's a story filled with light. Maia the half goblin son of the elven Emperor was never supposed to take the throne (or to ever even be at court. because racism). And then everyone ahead of him dies in a single "accident" and suddenly he's the new Emperor. Maia is a good person, and a kind one, and despite everything that gets thrown at him he keeps hold of that understanding of right and wrong and refuses to bend.

(I have to mention that the language of the writing is kinda hard to get into in the beginning, and the characters's have very complicated and long names, but once you get into it it really did enhance the story for me).

Good Omens. An Angel and a Demon try to stop the apocalypse and instead lose the Antichrist. I've loved that book for like a decade now and if I don't put it on a list of my faves that list would be a lie.

The King of Attolia. Third in The Queen's Thief series and my favorite one out of all of them. I've always enjoyed Outsider POV in fics. And here is a book that just... proves why. We've got Eugenides and Irene, the Thief and the Queen, and we know them from the two previous books. And adore them. But the story isn't from their POV, it's from the POV of Costis, a Queen's guard who's suddenly gotten assigned to the King. The useless, weak, undeserving king that as far as Costis is concerned doesn't deserve to even kiss the Queen's boots. And it's hilarious to read the story from the eyes of someone who knows so much less than us. And so satisfying, as he begins to understand.

(I recommend the whole series and am personally glad to have read them in the published order but Megan Whalen Turner has stated that she wrote them in a way that allows you to jump in at any point you want).

The Raven Tower. The story is from the viewpoint of a sentient, omniscient rock whose name is Strength and Patience of the Hill and it is the GREATEST THING EVER. The gods are real and must be very careful with their words, because if they speak a lie the reality will alter to make that lie the truth but if the lie is bigger than the power of the god... well. Inspired by Hamlet.

(the book also has a trans man as the main character; the other main character? The sentient rock is the narrator but the largest part of the story focuses on Eolo).

A Natural History of Dragons. The first book from The Memoirs of Lady Trent (and honestly it would probably be more honest to say that every single book from this series fits the category of fave but I'm putting up the first here because this isn't a series where you should skip ahead). The book focuses on the life of Isabella as narrated by her older self. This is the story how a Scirland lady bucked all tradition and became a world renowned expert on the Natural History of Dragons.

(this series has a piece of my heart and always will).

---

(and finally, here's some more of my favorite fantasy books that I also adore and would totally ramble about but I got tired of typing).

#monstrous regiment #the goblin emperor #good omens #the king of attolia #the raven tower #a natural history of dragons #discworld #terry pratchett #katherine addison #neil gaiman #the queen's thief #megan whalen turner #ann leckie #the memoirs of lady trent #marie brennan #fantasy books #book rec #book recs #book asks #ask game #ask meme #answers #tinynavajo #terapsina rambles #terapsina's book rambles

[harringtonisms]

people like us

pairing: steve harrington / eddie munson summary: Five times Amanda Driscoll hears about Mr. Harrington’s wife and the One time she realizes it’s his husband. warnings: some angst in #4 and a slight coming out (to herself) arc, hinted at homophobia (nothing explicit) word count: 7.5k a/n: (10/18/2023): a little after a year from the original post date, i decided to go back and edit it. it's still the same story any rereaders know, but all the little plot holes and issues have been fixed and there's 200 more words to read! thank you for reading <3

(og note): this is based off of this post i made! i will be doing a second part to this that follows eddie's bandmates and meeting steve! i hope you enjoy and any feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, ask, are all appreciated!

Read it on AO3

taglist: @zed-zeppeli @valenschmidt @expectocrucio @rel312 @jonathanbyersbbg @beeing-stuupid @ataztuv @noahzanehethey @ludabug @mavernanche @casualherolightbailiff @purplebellybell @phenomenal-bird @persephone13 @gleefully-macabre @darkqloszed @the-baby-goblin @aryanightshade @jojobeaner @specialagentslut-24 @goodomensgurl

1.  Monday, August 21st, 1995

Amanda was not one to be late, especially on the first day of school. Her steps echoed in the empty hallway as she rushed to her first period class. In one hand she held a tardy slip. In the other was a ripped piece of notebook paper detailing her homeroom class in smudged blue ink. 

Mr. Harrington

 U.S. History

Room 114

Having lived in Hawkins her whole life, she’d been attending the same middle school her older sister and both parents attended. This made her rather familiar with the staff at Hawkins Middle and yet she hadn’t recognized Mr. Harrington’s name. Reaching her classroom, she grabbed the handle and pushed it open. 

All the desks were arranged in groups of four and there were four groups. Hanging from the ceiling, were pieces of laminated paper designating each desk group a number. The walls were covered in different iconic historical quotes, maps of the worlds, and black and white photos of people Amanda assumed were important. On her teacher’s desk was a small globe, a pencil cup, and a clay pot full of various origamis. Her teacher was leaning against his desk, in the middle of a speech when he was interrupted by the squeak of the door being opened. All eyes landed on Amanda and she squirmed under her peers' watchful gaze. She walked shyly over to Mr. Harrington and handed him her pass. 

“Ah, Amanda! Welcome to U.S. History. Uh, here! Grab a syllabus and there’s a free seat at table two! I’m just telling the class a bit about myself.” He smiled politely at her, and motioned toward table two. At table two, Mary and Lj were sitting on the same side, facing the windows, so Amanda chose the seat across from Lj. She quietly sat her stuff down and paid attention to what her teacher was saying. 

“Like I was saying, I was born and raised in Hawkins. I walked these very same halls you did once before! It’s actually where I met my current partner, I just didn’t know it at the time. I started at Ivy Tech college before I transferred to Indiana State Teachers College to get my degree. I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years and taught at the local high school, before we moved back this past summer to take care of their dad and here we are! I’m also the coach for the basketball team so information about try-outs will go up soon. Now, enough about me. If you’d take a look at your syllabus…”

Mr. Harrington’s voice faded into ambient noise in the background as she looked around her classroom. He’d met his wife right here in this building, and he didn’t even know it at the time. The person Amanda would marry could be sitting right in front of her and she’d never know until she was finally with them. She glanced around and her eyes landed on Louise-Jane Brooks, or Lj as she was typically called. Amanda immediately looked away, a fierce blush painting her cheeks the same color as her hair. That happened almost every time she looked at Lj. How weird is it that someone she’s known since kindergarten made her so nervous? The sun fitted itself through the blinds behind Amanda and illuminated Lj, like she had her own personal spotlight shining down on her. Brown skin, long braids, deep dark eyes turned to honey, and freckles left over from summer time glittered underneath the light and it stirred up something within Amanda that her mind had trouble reconciling with.

“Any questions?” Mr. Harrington’s voice cut through the Lj related fog in Amanda’s mind and her hand immediately shot up.

“You said you met your wife in middle school. How did you know she was the one?” Amanda forced her eyes to stay on Mr. Harrington despite the strange urge to look back at Lj. 

“Well I didn’t know I’d marry them in middle school. I didn’t know that I’d marry them until way after college. We met in middle school. We were desk partners in our science class and they taught me how to make origami out of our homework sheets.” He picked up the little clay pot on his desk and pulled out what looked like a pencil. “They made me this little pencil for my first day teaching here.” He returned the origami pencil and the clay pot back to their spot on his desk and looked back out toward his students. “Are there any other questions?...No? Alright we’re gonna head down to the library and grab your textbooks so line up!” 

A symphony of chairs screeching against the ground and whispering voices erupted as the students lined up by the door. Much to the delight of Amanda, Lj ended up in front of her. Lj was wearing a baby pink dress with white polka dots and white flats. Amanda tapped Lj’s shoulder and waited for her to turn. She turned and Amanda had to ignore the warmth in her cheeks as she spoke.

“I like your dress!” Lj’s smile grew in response to Amanda’s compliment.

“Thank you, Amy. It has pockets!” and she stuck her hands into the pockets of the dress to show them to Amanda. Amanda went to say something but the line had started to move so she kept her response to herself. 

2. Friday, September 15th, 1995

In the weeks that passed, Amanda found herself looking forward to her first period class more and more. Mr. Harrington made learning about history much more fun than her previous teachers had. Though they had to check out the textbooks in the library provided by the state, Mr. Harrington told them to stack them along the window sill and they sat there everyday, untouched. In class, he told them the real history and explained what actually happened, what the textbooks glossed over or lied about. Instead of reading page after page in their textbooks they got to do fun projects creating poster boards, making dioramas, and even creating their own political cartoons. 

Amanda has also been early everyday. She was sitting in her regular seat waiting for class to start, when two boys walked in, talking excitedly about some band she’d never heard of. 

“Did you hear about the first Corroded Coffin show last night in Indianapolis? Apparently people were camping outside the venue for 2 nights to try and score tickets! I want to see them on tour so bad!” Mr. Harrington peaked his head up from the paper he was writing on and joined the boys’ conversation. 

“You guys like Corroded Coffin? I know those guys, we all went to high school together.” Mr. Harrington said. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed as he thought about something. “Maybe I can ask them to come for career day in October?”

The two boys gasped excitedly and started asking their teachers questions about the band and how he met them. Mary, who sat diagonally across from Amanda, sighed. Amanda watched, Mary, who had her head in her hands, gazing dreamily at Mr. Harrington. 

“Isn’t he just so handsome, Amanda?” Mary said, turning to look at her. Amanda wrinkled her nose in response. Sure, Mr. Harrington wasn’t ugly but she couldn’t see what it was about him that made all the girls trip over themselves. No matter if they were in the cafeteria during lunch or in the library for study hall, she was subject to hearing theories of what Mr. Harrington’s wife looked like, and whispers of ‘She’s so lucky’. Amanda didn’t get any of it. Still, she wanted to fit in, so she pretended. He wore the same style glasses that she did, so at least she could compliment him without lying. To herself or her classmates.

“Um, I like his glasses.” She replied. Avoiding Mary’s piercing gaze, she decided pulling her pencil bag out was a smart move. 

“I don’t know, Amy,” Lj said, looking up from her book. “I think Miss. Rosario is prettier than Mr. Harrington. She would never come to school with her shirt so wrinkled.” Lj glanced at Mr. Harrington once more before going back to her book. Mary flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, before she raised her hand. Next to her, Amanda’s eyes were glued to Lj. Miss Rosario was pretty. Super pretty. If everyone was talking about that, she’d understand one hundred percent. She forced herself to look away when Mr. Harrington started speaking. 

“Yes, Mary?” 

“You don’t normally come to school with your shirt so wrinkled. Why today?” She asked. Mr. Harrington looked down at his shirt and inspected the wrinkles and huffed. He was wearing a plain blue and white striped polo, and jeans since it was a friday. 

“Thank you…for pointing that out, Mary. For your information, normally my partner irons my shirts every morning while I make breakfast, but they’ll be away for the next month on a work trip, and I was in a rush and forgot to do it.” He walked back around behind his desk and grabbed the hawkins middle hoodie that was hanging on the back of his desk chair and put it on. “There, Now no one can see the wrinkles.” He raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘is this okay’ and Mary nodded as she giggled

“Why does your wife always iron your shirts? Why don’t you iron your own shirts and she makes breakfast?” Janet asked. 

“Well, Janet, if you must know, they like to pick out my clothes, and I’m the only one who can cook so it just works out.” Mr. Harrington replied. A few awws came from the crowd and he waved them away. “Yes, it’s all very sweet and domestic and all that jazz. Now, who can tell me where we left off yesterday.” 

 3. Tuesday, October 3rd, 1995

“Yo, Mr. H, what’s that thing on your nose?” It was right before class began, and Mr. Harrington had just turned around from writing their new essay prompt on the board. Right in the center of his face was a scratch, from the bridge of his nose to underneath his eye. Amanda was by the door, sharpening her pencil for the lesson.

“Well Good Morning to you too, Gerald. That thing on my nose is a scratch. My partner came home for the weekend and we ended up adopting some kittens last night. Three of them actually, so in the whole mess of transporting 3 kittens back to our home…” He gestured to his face and then shrugged. 

“What did you name the kittens?” A voice said from the back. 

“Sabbath, Kirk, and Abba.” His lips pursed, as if he was trying to suppress his smile. 

“Why those names?” Amanda asked before she could stop herself. She recognized Abba because her older sister was always blasting it through her walkman, but the other two names were unfamiliar. She assumed they probably also had to do with music but she wasn't sure what they were references to. 

“Well Sabbath and Kirk are nods to my partners favorite bands. The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’.” Mr. Harrington had an exasperated look on his face, but you could hear the fondness in his voice as he talked about his partner. He glanced over at his origami pot, which Amanda noted now had a black cat added to it. She spun to walk back to her desk with her newly sharpened pencils when Lj walked into class, beating the bell by a few seconds and immediately caught Amanda’s attention.

“Woah, Amy! You wore your hair down today?” Lj said, and stopped when she saw the redhead by the door. Amanda typically kept her hair in a ponytail and her bangs neatly trimmed just above her eyebrows to keep her curls from falling into her face while she worked. Today though, she had a black and white striped headband settled behind her bangs, the rest of her curly hair falling down to her shoulders. “I really like it like this. You look extra pretty.” Lj offered her a small smile and made her way to her seat. Amanda's hand flew to her hair and her jaw fell open a bit, eyes tracking Lj’s movements as she walked away. 

Lj thought she was extra pretty with her hair down. Extra. Like she always thought Amanda was pretty, but with her hair down…she was more, pretty. Additionally pretty. Especially pretty. Her gaze slowly left Lj and landed on Mr. Harrington who was watching her with an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place. He shook his head in amusement and then pointed to her desk with his chin. It took her feet a few seconds to catch up with her brain and move, but she made it to her seat. As she sat down, Gerald called out to her teacher.

“Wait Mr. H, I’m confused. Why did y’all get 3 kitties in the first place?” Mr. Harrington sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing when he made contact with the scratch. 

“We couldn’t separate the siblings. Or, my partner didn’t want to separate them and…who am I to stop them. So we got three kittens.” His eyes widened like he still couldn’t believe it. 

“Will you bring them in so we can meet them?” Kendra asked hopefully. Amanda knew she wanted to be a veterinarian so it made sense that she’d ask. That was the cool thing about going to school with the same kids all her life. She knew so many little things about them and what their aspirations were. Gerald was out of this world smart so he’d decided he would either be a lawyer or a doctor, whichever paid more. Mary wanted to be a famous actress, Janet loved science, and Lj was a writer like no other. 

Amanda imagined hanging out with Lj in the future. Lj as a world famous journalist for the New York Times and Amanda working somewhere with numbers. They would both live in New York because Lj would want a friend there and they’ll live in the same apartment to save money and they’ll share a room because what if it’s lonely and she’ll get to wake up to Lj and fall asleep with Lj and grocery shop with Lj and

Amanda sat up straighter in her seat and shook her head as if to shake those thoughts out of her mind. She reminded herself to leave those types of thoughts to when she was alone and tuned back into the ongoing conversation.

“Sorry Kendra, can’t do that. I have a kid in my third and seventh period classes with allergies to fur.”

“What if your wife brings them, and then after this class period, she takes them back home?” Someone else suggested. Mr. Harrington chuckled to himself and dropped his head, letting it hang for a moment.

“That won’t be possible, they’re on a work trip, remember. Maybe I’ll bring a picture in so you all can see.” He offered, looking around to see if that would appease his students. 

“But we want to see your wife! You’re always talking about her!” That comment came from Mary. Mr. Harrington laughed again and Amanda wondered what was so funny. 

“Ok ok, I see what’s going on here. You’re trying to get me to talk about my personal life so we don’t start those essays today huh? Unluckily for you, I was a student once so I know all your tricks! Come on, let’s get class started.” A few tried to protest, but eventually they grabbed their notebooks and flipped to fresh pages. 

As Amanda worked, her hair continued to fall into her face. She resisted the urge to tie it back into its signature ponytail, instead opting to tuck her hair behind her ear constantly. Louise-Jane Brooks thinks Amanda Driscoll is extra pretty with her hair down and Amanda decided it was normal to want another girl to think she’s pretty, so she kept her hair down.

 4. Friday, October 13th, 1995

“Mr. Harrington, what was high school like for you?” 

That day, the eighth grade class had a field trip to the high school now that their first marking period was nearly over. The class was pretty chatty now that they were back in their classroom waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. They were all standing around Mr. Harrington’s desk, a few sitting on the student desks behind them. They quieted down when they heard the question asked. 

“I was pretty popular in high school, was co-captain of the swim team, fought some monsters, skipped prom, then I graduated and met the love of my life.” Mr. Harrington was staring upwards, like he was checking off an imaginary list in his mind. Immediately, a gaggle of questions were shouted out at him. His eyes widened in shock and he put his hands up in surrender. “Woahhh guys, one a time, let me see some hands. McKenzie, what’s your question?”

“I thought you met your wife in middle school?” A few ‘yeah’s came from the group as they recalled what Mr. Harrington told them on the first day of class. 

“That is technically right. I did meet them in middle school and we were friends for that science class we shared. Then we drifted apart until after I graduated. We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school and ever since then it’s been me and them.”

“What do you mean by fighting monsters?” Another person asked. Mr. Harrington only shrugged. His arms, which were hanging down by his sides, wrapped around his stomach. “Whatever you think it means, Kevin.”

“He’s probably talking about some game or movie,” Someone commented from the back of the group to their friend. Mr. Harrington didn’t acknowledge them, only staring out the window. The kids begin to break off into separate conversation when the bell rings to dismiss for the day. 

“Hey Amy,” Lj said, approaching her as the crowd started to disperse and leave Amanda, Lj, and their teacher behind. Mr. Harrington yelled out a ‘See you tomorrow and made good decisions!’ as he sat back behind his desk. The two girls were standing in the aisle between table one and table two, a few feet from the front of Mr. Harrington’s desk. She noticed her teacher start to look for something on his desk. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here, normally you're first out the door.” She commented. Amanda smiled at the thought of Lj paying that much attention to her.

“I have Chess Club afterschool today so my mom will get me at four. I don’t have to catch the bus.” Lj hummed in acknowledgement before speaking again.

“So…I just moved to a new house, and I finally finished decorating my room. If it’s okay with your mom, my mom said I could invite people over now.” Lj had a delicate smile on her face as her fingers played with the hem of her t-shirt before being stuffed into the pockets of her jeans.

“Um, yeah of course! I’d love to! How do I tell you if my mom said it’s ok?” Amanda said, smiling so widely she knew her cheeks would ache later. 

“Uhhhh,” Lj looked around, before taking a few steps and grabbing a marker out of Mr. Harrington’s pencil cup. Amanda trailed behind her. Lj grabbed Amanda’s arm and wrote down a series of numbers on her forearm. Amanda could see that Mr. Harrington was now fumbling for something within his desk. Lj let her hand fall from Amanda’s forearms to her hand. 

“There. That’s my home phone number, just call me when you ask your mom! I hope she says yes. I got this jewelry making kit so we can like, make bracelets and stuff! Bye, Amy! Call me! Even if you can't come over!” Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and walking out the classroom. 

Amanda was rooted in her spot, the path LJ’s fingers took burned into her skin. Having feelings for Lj had gone from manageable to completely unbearable from that one interaction. How was she supposed to walk around everyday not aching to touch her again? To feel the weight of Lj’s hand in hers and have her small, kind, infectious smile directed at Amanda. Her fingers traced the numbers on her arm as she reimagined her Saturday plans. She was shaken from her daydream when a throat cleared. Her head snapped to the source of the noise, and she met eyes with Mr. Harrington. Realizing he watched that entire interaction, her smile dropped. She knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same things her parents whispered in the kitchen when they thought she was asleep in the living room.

“That wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t have a crush on Lj.” Mr. Harrington only raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. 

“I…I didn’t say you did.” He replied. 

Amanda’s cheeks burned a deep red as she realized he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. She assumed she knew what he was thinking and just dug herself into a hole. She looked away embarrassed, feeling the burn of restrained tears behind her eyes. She’d just come to terms herself with what those feelings inside her meant. She wasn’t ready to deal with what it meant to openly like girls. But now she’d have to, Mr. Harrington was going to tell her mom. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” She whispered, looking away when a few tears fell. Mr. Harrington’s eyes widened in shock. He jumped up from his desk, walked around to the front, and kneeled in front of Amanda.

“Hey, hey, hey don't cry. I won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to. There’s nothing for me to tell, Amanda. Promise.” He reassured, his hands flailing about in front of him as he spoke. He offered a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before shifting to sit criss-cross in front of his desk, using it to lean on. 

Amanda watched Mr. Harrington as he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable. He looked up at Amanda and patted the spot next to him. She sat down with him, legs stretched into the aisle in front of them and her back pressed up against Mr. Harrington’s desk. She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes, and Mr. Harrington pushed his glasses into his hair and began to speak. 

“If I may ask, what is it… that I'm not telling?” He asked, voice gentle. 

“I don’t think you’d understand.” She said, voice shaky with unshed tears. 

“Maybe…maybe not. But you never know unless you tell me. If you want to, of course.” He said as he watched Amanda carefully.

“How do you feel about your wife?” She asked him, finger aimlessly prodding at the linoleum floors. 

“My partner is the best gift that I could have ever been given. They’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The kindest, most compassionate, and genuine person I know. And they’re hilarious, they make me laugh like never before. I used to dread going home, but now that they’re there, I can’t wait to get back to them everyday. Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them. They are the center of my universe and every planet surrounding it.” 

The two sat in silence for a moment after. Amanda wondered what it would be like to love a girl so fully. To love a girl so much that her mere presence made the stars shine brighter and air seem crisper. To love a girl, and be free to tell anyone who asked. 

“I want,” she started. “I want to be allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Amanda nearly whispered the end of her sentence, the force of hearing her voice admit that out loud for the first time knocked the air out of her.

“You are allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Mr. Harrington said, shifting to face Amanda better. She turned to look at him, red rimmed eyes meeting earnest ones. “My best friend and her wife moved to San Francisco so that they could. They’re much more open minded out there. When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us out there way more than you did here in Hawkins.” Amanda’s brows knitted in confusion. 

“People like us?” She asked. Mr. Harrington nodded. 

“People like us,” He confirmed. Amanda let the weight of both their confessions settle in the air. Other people felt this way. Mr. Harrington did. And so did his best friend and her wife. And the people in San Francisco and in Chicago. She wasn’t the only person who felt. Amanda let her worries be temporarily soothed by the comfort of knowing she wasn’t a freak or a mistake. She wiped her eyes again, put her glasses back on, and pushed herself off the floor. She looked up at the clock which read 3:12. Chess Club started in three minutes. 

“I have to go, I don’t want to be late…but thank you, Mr. Harrington.” Amanda said, voice quiet. 

“Anytime, Amanda. My door is always open.” And she didn’t doubt that. Not many people in Hawkins knew how she felt, but Mr. Harrington did and that was more than she thought. 

 5. Monday, October 15th, 1995

When Amanda walked into her homeroom class the following day, the first thing she noticed was the new poster up by the chalkboard. It was a plain beige rectangle with rainbow patterned letters, spelling out “YOU ARE SAFE HERE.” Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes immediately searched for Mr. Harrington, but he was busy talking to one of her classmates. She walked to her seat, reveling in the warmth that grew in her chest from how nice it was to be cared for like this.

As Amanda placed her arm on her desk, she felt the delicious bite of the gems on her bracelet sink into the skin of her wrist. She lifted her wrist to inspect the new jewelry she made with Lj. There were pink, orange, and red beads patterned on her bracelet, while Lj’s had a pink, blue, and purple pattern. Both bracelets however, had “LJ&AMY”. Her right hand came up and she ran her fingers over the beads, and smiled fondly as she remembered her weekend with Lj. Memories of bracelet making, pizza, karaoke, and sharing a banana split sundae filled her mind. Amanda looked ahead of her and saw that Lj was already staring at her. She smiled at her and waved shyly. Lj giggled and waved back. 

“I like your bracelet,” She said, smiling back at Amanda. Amanda stuck her hand wrist out proudly to show off the bracelet Lj helped her make. 

“Why thank you, it’s custom made, one of a kind,” She laughed again, but was interrupted by one of her classmates yelling over the chatter in the classroom. 

“How was your weekend, Mr. H,” Gerald asked. 

“It was pretty good. I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner and they had a picnic set up. It was very sweet. They even made me a flower crown by hand. We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.” He responded.

“Wow, Mr. H, your wife sounds mad sweet.” Gerald responded, his fingers absentmindedly twirling one of his locs. 

“Right,” Kendra piped in from the back corner. “Everytime you say something about her it’s always something so gentle. Like she taught you how to make origami, and she irons your clothes, made you adopt all those cats, now a picnic at Lovers’ Lake and a handmade flower crown? She’s like, the sweetest woman in the world.” Kendra said, recalling all the kind things Mr. Harrington’s partner did for him.

“I wish you guys paid this much attention to what I say when i’m teaching, how did you even remember all of that?” Kendra only shrugs and Mr. Harrington sighs. “Anyways, what about you guys, what did you get up to this weekend?” Immediately Lj’s hand went up and Mr. Harrington called on her. She reached her hand out to Amanda, who immediately clasped her fingers around Lj’s.

“Well Amy came over to my house and we did a bunch of fun stuff like go to the mall and get pizza, but we also made these matching bracelets.” Lj then stuck their conjoined hands in the air so their classmates could see the bracelets, even if it was a bit awkward with all that space between the two girls. 

Amanda’s grin grew impossibly bigger and she looked at Mr. Harrington who raised his brows in pleasant surprise.

“That’s very nice girls, my partner and my best friend have a matching pair of purple converse that they decorated together actually. Janet, what about you? How was your weekend?” Mr. Harrington went on, letting his students tell him all about their weekend before they started class. Amanda couldn’t pay much attention to what her classmates were saying though, savoring every second Lj kept her in hand in Amanda’s.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how Mr. Harrington never just says ‘my wife’?” Mary whispered to her tablemates. Amanda froze for a moment, considering Mary’s words. Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and picking up her pencil to take notes since Mr. Harrington was now starting the lesson. Amanda didn’t follow her lead. Instead, she ran back every time Mr. Harrington brought up his wife. 

“Then I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years…”

“...normally my partner irons my shirts every morning…”

“Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them.”

Why didn’t Mr. Harrington just say ‘my wife’ instead of ‘my partner’? Why did he always say ‘they’ instead of ‘she’? Amanda’s mind reminded her of their conversation afterschool on friday. 

“When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us way more than here in Hawkins.”

People like…us. 

Her eyes darted to the new poster hanging up in their class. You are safe here. Her eyes drifted to Mr. Harrington as the realization dawned on her. Why Mr. Harrington was so specific about how he referred to his partner. Why he didn’t have a picture of them on his desk like her other teachers do. 

Mr. Harrington…doesn’t have a wife. He has a husband.

 +1. Tuesday, October 16th, 1995

It was career fair day so after lunch instead of heading to her algebra class, Amanda met up with Lj in front of the gym to browse all the different jobs that came to present that day. She almost tripped over her feet in excitement once she spotted Lj. She quickened her pace, nearly running over one of the 6th graders. The two girls embraced before linking arms as they walked into the gym together. 

They stopped by the doctor table and the accounting table, and ran past the construction table giggling. They visited the journalism table so Lj could talk with the woman there. She had a short, curly bob and a name tag that read “Miss Wheeler”. Amanda looked around and spotted Mr. Harrington toward the back of the fair talking with another man with unruly, curly hair. The long haired man smiled at Mr. Harrington and knocked the educators shoulder with his own. 

Amanda told Lj she would be right back and headed in their direction. Upon arriving, Mr. Harrington’s friend stepped away from him and approached Amanda. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “The Devil Was Once an Angel” and ripped black jeans. He had many rings on his fingers and various chains hanging off his belt loops. He had multiple tattoos all along his arms and stuck to the front of his chest was a name tag that read “Mr. Munson”.

Looking at his display, she saw a speaker, quietly playing metal music and a black and red electric guitar on a stand next to it. There were pictures of the long haired man on stage with 3 other guys and a notebook open with what looked like song lyrics. Next to the notebook, there were some tickets for a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’. Amanda racked her memory trying to remember why the name sounded familiar. 

“Amanda!” Mr. Harrington greeted. He turned and faced Mr. Munson. “Mr. Munson, this is that student I told you about. Amanda, this is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist, lead vocals, and songwriter for his band.” Mr. Harrington looked at Eddie proudly, and placed a hand on each shoulder, in a weird sort of side hug.

“Thank you for that lovely introduction, Mr. Harrington,” Mr. Munson said, grinning widely. He then turned to Amanda. “What kind of music do you listen to, Red?” He had his hands clasped together, his two pointer fingers pressed against his lips. 

“Uhh, I guess I listen to a lot of pop music. My older sister introduced me to someone called Madonna? I mainly listen to my sister's old tapes so whatever she has,” Amanda responded. 

Mr. Munson gasped, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest where his heart would be. 

“Oh you poor thing! You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” She giggled and Mr. Munson smiled at her in a way where she knew he was only teasing. Amanda could see Mr. Harrington roll his eyes but smile, as Mr. Munson grabbed the speaker that was on his table. He pulled it closer to the front of the table so she could hear the music playing better. Mr. Munson looked around quickly before whispering to Amanda. “You won’t tell anyone if this song says any bad words will you,” His questioning gaze turned into a devilish grin when Amanda smiled and shook her head. “I knew there was a reason you were his favorite” Her feet tapped in excitement as she glanced quickly to her teacher. 

Mr. Munson turns the music up slightly and lets the heavy bass and electric guitar fill the air around them. 

“That is my band's latest single, ‘Trials’. It’s about some stuff that your teacher and I went through back in high school.” He said.

“You guys knew each other in high school?” Amanda asked, bewildered. How did her polo-wearing, mr. popular, not a hair out of place history teacher become friends with a man so completely different from him?

“Well we knew of each other in high school, we were friends in middle school for a little while. We reconnected around this time of my senior year. 1986, can you believe that was 10 years ago, Stevie?” Where had she heard that before? Where did she know this man from? She can’t recall ever seeing him before, so why do his words sound so familiar? Amanda pushed those questions out of her head, and instead decided to ask him questions about his work since that is what he was there for.  

“Do all the inspirations for your songs come from your life? How do you not run out of things to write about?” Amanda asked. 

“What a wonderful question, Red. I do get a lot of inspiration from my real life. Take this weekend for example, Me and Mr. Harrington—or Mr.Harrington and I, Miss O’Donnell would kill me if she heard me say that.” Mr. Munson said that last part to Mr. Harrington before he turned back to Amanda. “Like I was saying, Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends. I got some inspiration from that experience to write about reminiscing on good times. The song that just played for you right now, is also about the past but it’s about how the past changes us today. So while I may use the same base for songs,...” 

Amanda started to lose focus as Mr. Munson explained his songwriting process. Mr. Harrington also said he was at Lovers’ Lake with his partner and that he met up with old friends this weekend. She understood them hanging out as old friends, they knew each other since middle school apparently. But how could Mr. Munson have been at Lovers’ Lake too? 

Amanda looks at Mr. Harrington, opening her mouth to ask a question when she stops herself. Mr. Harrington. That’s who she’s heard this from before. She looked back at the tickets on the table. “Corroded Coffin” She realizes that’s the band he was talking about that one day. She runs her entire conversation with Mr. Munson back in her mind matching it to the things she heard Mr. Harrington say in class. 

‘’The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’”

“You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” 

“We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school.”

“We reconnected around this time of my senior year.”

“Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends.”

“I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner…We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.”

Amanda looked away from the table, looking between both Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington was watching Mr. Munson as he explained something Amanda wasn't paying much attention to with rapt fascination. His eyes were soft and his smile was adoring. His arms were crossed casually across his chest and he leaned slightly toward Mr. Munson, like the musician had a magnetic pull on him. 

Like Mr. Munson was the center of his universe. 

Amanda gasped loudly, effectively cutting off Mr. Munson’s spiel and drawing attention from a few of the neighboring tables. They all turned away when Amanda’s face broke into a wide grin, assuming her gasp was from excitement. Both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson were staring at Amanda with confusion on their faces. 

“Are you…okay, Red?” Mr. Munson asked as he stepped backwards to inspect Amanda, consequently getting into Mr. Harrington’s personal space. Her history teacher didn’t budge when there were only a mere few inches separating them. She peeked around them, searching for Lj and finding her talking to Gerald in front of the lawyers table. She turned back to the two men in front of her and kept her voice low when she spoke. 

“Mr. Harrington doesn’t have a wife,” She paused for dramatic effect, something she learned from Mary, and let the two men share a glance before looking back to her. “He has a husband.” She clapped her hands, excited by her discovery. It all made sense now. Realization washed over both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson. They looked at each other, Mr. Munson pursing his lips to suppress a smile and Mr. Harrington with both hands on his hips and an exasperated look on his face.

“How did you piece that together from my presentation?” Mr. Munson asked, head tilted in amusement.

“It wasn’t your presentation, it was the stuff you said before you started talking about the music. Mr. Harrington talks about you all the time in class. The stuff you said right now matched up to what Mr. Harrington said before and all the signs, the poster, ‘People like us...It just clicked right now. What all that meant.” Amanda said, hands waving wildly in front of her. They froze mid-air when another realization washed over her. Her eyebrows knit up in confusion as she looked Mr. Munson over once more. 

“You…with the tattoos, and the rings, and the chains, and the all black clothes…adopted three kittens? And you iron Mr. Harrington’s clothes every morning? And planned a picnic out on Lovers’ Lake? You taught Mr. Munson to make little origamis? Made him a flower crown? That was you? But you look so…” Amanda paused looking for the words. Mr. Munson glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Harrington with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “You look so, not the type.”

“I told you all those years ago, Stevie. Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids.” He turned back to Amanda. “It’s 1995 Little Red, people are so much more than their stereotypes.” 

Amanda stared at Mr. Munson, soaking in all the new information, when another question popped in her mind. 

“Wait. If you’re both boys, how did you get married?” She kept her voice low, so the other tables wouldn’t over hear her. Mr. Munson crouched down to Amanda’s level. 

“Well, to the government, marriage is a piece of paper saying ‘This is who I chose!’. And tax benefits. We didn't need a piece of paper and a big fancy party, though we did have one, to say that we chose each other for life. I love him. And the government doesn’t get to tell me if that’s okay or not, it is okay.” Mr. Munson then looked up at Mr. Harrington from his spot on the floor. They shared a look, one that said a million more words than they’d be allowed in such a public place.

Amanda looked away from them, the connection between the two becoming almost suffocating. It was so surreal to be standing in front of two people who understood what she was going through. They went through it already and came out the other end. They were living breathing proof that it’s not always this hard, and it’s not always this confusing. That one day you’ll be able to wake up every morning next to the love of your life, no matter their gender. You’ll get to visit your favorite spots from your childhood as you grow old together. That we get a fancy wedding and the promise to be together forever too. They were proof that our fate isn’t subject to becoming a forgotten name in the newspaper for a case the police won’t try to solve. People like us, get to have our happily ever after, and Amanda was looking right at one. She couldn’t quite put into words what that meant to her.

On top of that, Mr. Munson wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Besides the fact that she was expecting a woman up until yesterday, he wasn’t anything like she expected for someone who presented themself like he did. He was kind and gentle while being loud and dramatic. He picked flowers for his husband with the same hands he used to shred electric guitar. He was unapologetically himself, even if that confused some people. Amanda looked forward to the day she could say the same about herself.

Mr. Harrington offered Mr. Munson a hand, and helped him off the floor when Lj approached the table. 

“There you are Amy, I was wondering where you went,” Lj immediately reached for Amanda’s hand and interlocked their fingers, like she couldn't go another second without touching Amanda. Mr. Munson offered a small, knowing smile.  “Are you done here? I heard the veterinary table is giving out cookies shaped like dinosaurs!” 

Amanda looked away from Lj and back up at Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. 

“After the promotion ceremony, and we’re officially high schoolers…am I still allowed to come back and say hi?” Amanda asked. Sure, it was only October but Mr. Harrington had already changed her life in such an irrevocable way. When she gets her first girlfriend or when she moves away to find people who are like her, it’ll be because Mr. Harrington was the first person who told her that it was okay and that she wasn’t alone.

“Of course, Amanda. Come back anytime! I’d love to hear about how high school goes for you. Even beyond that!” Mr. Harrington said. They shared a smile, and she let Lj pull her away. 

“So you talk about me in class all the time, huh?” Mr. Munson teased as Amanda walked away.

“Go back on tour,” was her teacher's reply.

—

I don't know if i really have the words to explain what this fic means to me and how cathartic it was to write. Thank you for reading <3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie stranger things #st #plu #100 #1k #oc #ducky writes

[pyreo]

was sweeping up some map completion for a gift of exploration and just got reminded of so many cool things I like about original gw2/worldbuilding

I love Orr and how weird and alien it is. The ambience of sitting there with everything damp, dripping, made of coral, literally a lost world that doesn't fit above water any more. I love how oily the sky is and that occasionally a huge shadow sweeps over you as something like Blightghast/other risen dragons go by overhead. I love that it looks like this

It's so otherworldly. I especially like the eerie birdcalls (I know it's just a real bird I'm not used to, but it's so unique and strange)

I like that the end of the Pact storyline doesn't feel... hopeful. At all. Orr is blighted and diseased, mottled with decay, with lost journals from people who were never going to survive. I like that the story culminates here, grandiose but mournful. You're trying again but this place you're in was already lost, with thousands of lives, and it doesn't feel like triumphant reclaiming. I like that none of the game through these >10 years has really framed oncoming war, and fighting to survive, with glory. I like that the fight through Orr doesn't really feel righteous. It's no clash against a tyrant or something with belief in good over 'evil'. It's just sad. Trying to get through and survive it.

I like the clearly LOTR-emulating Orr music, particularly how this one goes into a male chorus at the end-

I like how an entire map is called Malchor's Leap and that clues you in to it being named after something and then you can go find out and it's just even more depressing. But at the same time, it reiterates the history of Orr - that human gods lived there and it must have been full of incredible splendour and that's gone and you will never see it, you can only try to imagine based on the wrecks of cathedrals.

And speaking of the human gods, I just like how each race has their own take on religion and they all get something tailored to their outlook. Nobody disputes one religion over the other like in our world - each one is generally assumed to be true on some level, and in some cases, provably real, but each race gets something different from their history and belief system anyway. Humans used to live alongside their gods but have been abandoned and none of them know why (and we eventually do find out what happened). Norn can invoke a governing spirit from any creature alive and choose the one that they'll serve best, but these spirits can be killed and you can see what happens when they mourn them. Sylvari have a stone of commandments from their long-dead benefactor that has completely fucked up their society because they aren't sure if following the tenets is wise or brainwashing. Asura actually believe there is an equation that can solve the entire universe and everything is part of a grand scheme beyond knowing, which is something more like a philosophy than religion but deserves mentioning because it means the Intellectual Goblin Race weren't made into cut and dry atheists as a cliche. They believe in something and have personal interpretations about it. One of them even made a machine to make the Eternal Alchemy viewable that drove someone insane when they used it and I just like how things asura do tend to backfire.

And the Charr. I mean. They're the atheists and it's all because they were duped into technically following a human god for a while and they're never going to get over-- no, wait. They started getting over it and the Flame Legion integrated with regular society again after their leader was deposed, because things moved forward and changed, and I like that too.

I feel like I can talk and talk on and on about this fictional history because it... just.... works? It's all part of a tapestry of cause and effect and meaningful characterisations. And they deliberately set up the basis for their playable races and then made the story NPCs generally turn those expectations around - Caithe being a grief-ridden assassin, Rox being a superstitious oddball, Zojja being irrational, Canach starting out as a pompous asshole.

I like the Ceera is still around in HoT and if you took the personal story route where her husband died, she still hasn't forgiven you and never does.

I loved Zafirah (bring her back!) showing that badly rooted spirituality can be redirected into something healthy and healing without being negated.

I like how many NPCs show up as part of a story step and you can ask if you know them and they'll say oh, yeah I was in the Pact with that whole thing? Or 'I saw you from a medical tent in maguuma and didn't think I'd make it', constant callbacks and the sense that minor characters have a continuous existence independent of you.

I like how solemnly the game takes its wins. The initial campaign against Zhaitan makes sure to kill characters off and made bringing Destiny's Edge along to it feel like its own entire obstacle. Heart of Thorns smashes any confidence the Pact has after the base game and takes an intentional sacrifice to be won, and I still think about him. Going after a literal god in Path of Fire costs you your life. Going after Kralkatorrik, with Destiny's Edge's guilt weighing on you, costs you your own child. Saving the fate of the world by fulfilling the exact conditions for Aurene to ascend costs you your child again, being taken from you so that the whole world stops rocking on its axis, losing your baby as she turns into a deity. Icebrood Saga puts you in the shoes of a relatable, easygoing crew on the opposing side, then sits back and waits for you to kill them all to continue. When you fight the final dragon as the final boss in Dragon's End you don't want to kill her at all, and she begs you to leave and get away so she won't harm you while you try, in bitterness and desperation, to end her unfathomably long life.

And the entire short but brilliant arc with Joko made sure we don't really feel empowered or just about the choices we've made.

It's just. Been really fucking good.

#gw2 #long post

[vparka]

Ominis Gaunt x Male Reader

"A Lover's Quarrel" 🔞 One-shot. M/M

Minors DNI.

Word Count: 9,427.

AO3 link

Warnings: Male Reader is a huge simp for Ominis lmao (what's new, tbh?), Blow Jobs, Rimming [Ominis receiving], Masturbation, Face-Sitting, Mouth-Spitting, Cum eating, Use of Y/N, Slytherin M!Reader, Insecure Ominis. Ominis petname is Omimi. Not beta read. Accidental Voyeurism.

________________

Okay, maybe Ominis Gaunt wasn’t the most knowledgeable person when it was about relationships of any kind, especially romantic ones (his parents were far, far away from being characters in a romance novel) but he did know that worrying about the person you care the most was pretty normal. Especially if said person went his way to make himself an easy kill: running around dangerous places and fighting dangerous creatures and people almost in a daily basis, for what? Nothing worthy of risking his life. Yes, Ominis was mad at Y/N. 

His endearing, lovely and stupid, very stupid boyfriend seemed to enjoy getting on Ominis’ nerves, making him worry sick whenever Y/N wasn’t around him, getting in some mischief with Sebastian, their friend in common and fellow Slytherin.   

Currently, Ominis was fighting to not fall asleep in the History of Magic class, keeping his mind busy... though not in a good way: he was worrying a lot about his stupid boyfriend, who was sitting beside him acting like nothing happened. Sure, being blind since birth made Ominis not notice a lot of things due to not having the gift of sight, but he did noticed things: his body tried to compensate the fact of being deprived of one of his senses by making other ones more heightened; his senses of smell and hearing were better than most people, for example... And he could picture things by touch, that’s how Ominis found out that Y/N was injured. Just yesterday they both were cuddling at the Undercroft after dinner, talking about a lot of things, nothing serious, really... until Ominis caressed Y/N’s cheek, wanting to show love by touching the other Slytherin and then he felt the usually soft skin scarred, plus, he did noticed the little jump Y/N made, a normal reaction when he was hurt. And today, in breakfast, he overheard some people pointing out how Y/N’s cheek was bruised- one student in this class even coming over before the lesson started, offering to cast a spell for the injury to heal to pay back some favor Y/N did to that student. Ominis was livid, now his idiot of a boyfriend couldn’t lie his way to convince him that he wasn’t hurt, he had enough evidence.   

“Ominis, please...” Y/N whispered quietly, trying to not attract Professor Binns’ attention, though the professor seemed completely immersed in his monologue about The Goblin Rebellion. Even though he couldn’t glare to death at the brute Slytherin, Ominis could feel Y/N’s puppy eyes, as Sebastian once described them whenever Y/N plead for the Blond's forgiveness after he got in trouble. “I’m so sorry, truly. I know I am an idiot, but I couldn’t leave Sebastian alone in that fight.”  

Ominis sighed, slowly opening his eyes, focusing on Professor Binn’s voice instead. His heart clenching, he did have a soft spot for both Slytherin troublemakers, but he couldn’t continue let them do dumb things in the name of power, adventure and shit like that. With his own family, the Gaunts, he already had enough for this and the next thirteen lifetimes. Instead, Ominis concentered his magic on his wand, making it scribble down some notes in case of the Goblin Rebellion topic being on their next exam.   

“ Omimi, please don’t ignore me.”   

Not the petname, lord. It was endearing and embarrassing at the same time, Ominis still remembered the time he wanted to get swallowed by the earth that one time Sebastian had heard that petname, snickering and calling them gross for being too sweet, something maybe Y/N could get called because he, indeed, was a sweetheart: always helping others, offering kind words and solutions, Ominis on the other hand... Only Sebastian and said idiot knew him, nobody else... though he was in polite terms with everyone he had talked to during the years. Certainly, you’d never see Ominis doing favors to people who weren’t his closest friends.  

“I’m ashamed-” Y/N continued, but Ominis intervened, having enough of it. They had been in this situation from three days now, with the Gaunt boy refusing to listen to Y/N’s apology.  

“Of having a bruise? Of lying to me? For sneaking out with Sebastian without telling me, again?” The blond Slytherin hissed, now getting a little pissed off. His head was slightly leaning left, his milky eyes lost but staring at the nothingness in front of him, with his posh tone, he spat: “You know, if I didn’t know the both of you had a penchant for trouble, I would think you’re cheating on me with him.”  

Okay, maybe Ominis had never thought of them both sneaking out like that. Before Y/N and him entered a relationship (after God knows how many months it took Y/N to convince Ominis that liking boys was alright, that it wasn’t a disease nor illness –honestly, fuck the Gaunt’s mindset regarding homosexuality. – and promises that he could take care of him, not like Ominis needed it, but it was nice knowing that Y/N supported him in anyway.) Ominis had talked with Sebastian about their Slytherin friend, because, well, Sebastian was cozier with the other boy than with other friends or his cross wands mates. Ominis remembered clearly how Sebastian had snorted, just saying that he did admire Y/N because he was a powerful wizard, but he didn’t see him like that, plus, he had admitted to knowing how ‘down bad’ the new fifth year was when he first meet Ominis through Sebastian, always asking him about the blind boy’s wellbeing and where he could find him, even confessing that Y/N used to ‘look at Ominis from a distance’ which clearly was stalking, and Sebastian did called it like that, but Sebastian found it funny to imitate Y/N’s voice when he gave that excuse.  

Ominis didn’t think Y/N would cheat on him, especially with Sebastian, but he was angry. So, yes. Maybe he was being petty, but he was allowed to, sometimes he got tired of being the voice of reason in their friend group. Sometimes he could use being the asshole in the situation.  

“Ominis, oh my god.” Y/N whispered, totally horrified at the words that escaped his boyfriend’s mouth. Y/N took Ominis’ hand softly, caressing the soft skin. Then, he leaned and kissed briefly Ominis’ cheek, not caring about anyone in the classroom. He had priorities and they were making up with Ominis, he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting the blond. "I would never, I just couldn’t leave him go alone into some ruins. We didn’t tell you because we were afraid-”  

“That my lack of sight would get me dead in the hands of some lower creature that attempted against my life? “ Ominis sneered in complete disdain impulsively. Deep down he knew Y/N and Sebastian didn’t think that about him... but they sneaking out, without telling him because he worried? It did hurt. “This is not a conversation I want to have right now, Y/N. “  

Y/N looked at Ominis with regret, wanting to let the blond Slytherin know that he didn’t think that. Ominis was capable of a lot of things, he was a very powerful wizard with a kind heart. Before he could even open his mouth, Ominis turned to face Professor Binn, completely removing any opening that Y/N could take to talk some more.  

So, Y/N respected Ominis’ decision and didn’t push further for now.   

Maybe later. 

+++

Both boys walked in silence towards Ominis’ dorm room, knowing that his roommates, including Sebastian, were in Hogsmeade, so they didn’t have to worry about others coming in while they talked. Y/N’s palms were sweaty, he preferred having Ominis content and smiling, talking in that posh accented voice of his so sweetly... having him disappointed in him hurt a lot. Physical pain couldn’t compare to the emotional pain Y/N felt whenever Ominis wasn’t happy, even more if it was his fault. Y/N sighed heavily, following the blond boy, and both taking a seat in Ominis’ bed once they were inside.  

It had taken more begging from Y/N’s part to convince his boyfriend to talk about it, but Ominis had finally said yes, only because Y/N had aided him quickly without thinking in Potions Class. It wasn’t a secret that even though Ominis was a damn good student, Potions wasn’t his strongest subject. Before his Wiggenweld potion turned out to be ‘utter rubbish’ as he had once said again, Y/N had run quickly and positioned himself in front of the blond, casting Protego on both of them before the cauldron exploded. The reason of why the hell would the cauldron explode was a complete courtesy of Garreth Weasley, who had been Ominis’ partner and had added an extra ingredient –one that caused Ominis’ allergies– for his new brand potion, which would change the wizarding world by its awesomeness, as the redhead had said. At the end, the cauldron did explode, showering Garreth and the students who were nearby with the viscous badly brewed concoction, completely smelling, but Ominis was protected, no allergy triggered. Some students did give shit at Y/N for only protecting Gaunt, but he didn’t care, Ominis was safe and there wasn’t a needed visit to the infirmary for him. Everything was alright.  

Talk about being down bad...   

Y/N cleared his throat and faced Ominis, whose really handsome face had a deadly-serious expression on. His tender and caring pale eyes had a stone coldness in them, his pretty lips weren’t smiling. Still, Y/N lifted his hand and caressed Ominis’ face beauty marks. It had taken a while to get Ominis used to his touch since he really wasn’t used to people touching him, even less lovingly... but their relationship deepened with time, both showing each other they cared about the other in their own ways, most of the time with body language being the principal since both of them weren’t big with words. Plus... Y/N really liked touching Ominis, such a beautiful creature should be treated with love.   

“Ominis...?” Y/N licked his lips nervously, normally a bruise and sneaking off causing a little trouble wouldn’t make him feel like this, even with his parents... but with Ominis? He knew that the boy didn’t want his friends wandering off where danger could be, even less of them associating with the Dark Arts... which Sebastian and him were doing, for research purposes. And Y/N did understand why: Ominis came from a family of Dark Wizards, and he didn’t support it in anyway, it wasn’t wrong of him to want his close ones off that path where danger and death where in every corner, never knowing if they would be able to be still alive the day after.    

“Heard you and Sebastian traversed a mountain in Loyalist territory. You know... that sort of thing could have got you both killed.” Ominis suddenly said, his voice coming out in a harsh tone, then faced Y/N. Ominis’ face had an angry expression, his icy eyes glaring daggers at Y/N.   

“I, uhm...” He was right. Ominis was right about that, him and Sebastian were in that mountain in royalist territory... fighting royalists since they were in their way- and Y/N did learn an unforgivable curse from Sebastian in that mountain, but Ominis couldn’t know. It would hurt him deeply and Y/N didn’t want that, plus, the blond boy would be so disappointed in him for wanting to learn the curse.  No, Y/N wasn’t a Dark Wizard rising, but he couldn’t deny his thirst for knowledge. He wanted to know the curse because he was curious, not because he was planning to be a Dark Lord or something, that wasn’t him.   

“What are you playing at?!” Ominis’ frown got deeper when Y/N didn’t say anything; his beautiful, beautiful eyes looked at him as if he wanted to kill Y/N, which shouldn’t turn him on right now because, well, duh. This was serious, and an angry Ominis was scary, and Y/N didn’t really want to have problems with him, the blond didn’t deserve that.   

“I’m so sorry, Ominis. It was a stupid move of me.” Y/N voice got soft, then, he kneeled in front of Ominis, hugging the boy’s legs and pressing his face on his lap, feeling his face burn. Ominis was scary and hot whenever he got mad, but he did have this... aura of danger and power whenever he got angry, must be a Gaunt family thing. It reminded Y/N of the time Sebastian had taken Y/N to the Undercroft without Ominis knowing, Ominis had scared the shit out of him when he scolded Y/N and basically threatened him to not say anything about the place when he got out of it.   

That was the moment Y/N had believed in love at first sight.  

For some people the position Y/N had taken may have looked straight of nowhere, but for them... it was a surrender gesture, submissive. Even if they weren’t as lowly minded as past generations, they still had some thoughts about dominance, wanting to make their lover take their affections- especially since they had started to experiment with each other in a more intimate way. Both were competitive boys in their own ways, often colliding with each other about who’s taking the lead, always the gentlemen both. It often was a fun dynamic, other times a gesture like this was needed: like right now, Y/N surrendering to Ominis’ since the blond couldn’t judge himself if Y/N expression was sincere, body language instead taking that role.   

It was truly a thrill to make the other submit, have said other not worry about a single thing and just enjoy what the other gave, talking in the sexual sense. Both were exciting roles, but this time Y/N did surrender first, wanting Ominis to take the lead in this situation. And when it wasn’t sexual, it was because both were hard-headed, wanting to go in their own way and have the other follow it. They had similarities, but there were differences as well, just like any other couple. This time, just like Y/N’s body language suggested, was up to what Ominis’ thought.  

And Y/N was sincere, truly. He was an idiot, but he didn’t regret kicking royalists’ asses, they deserved it. Kidnapping creatures, people, and following their evil plans... that needed to be stopped. But what Y/N really regretted was making Ominis upset, his precious darling worrying about him doing stupid things, Ominis’ anger was justified.   

Feeling the gesture, Ominis calmed a little, but he still frowned. He kept quiet, which made Y/N nuzzle his face against Ominis’ thighs.  

“I love you, Ominis. I get your position, if it were you, I’d lose my head. “Y/N murmured, hugging Ominis’ legs until the point his knees were pressing firmly against Y/N’s chest. He looked up at the blond, his eyes pleading. “Maybe it doesn’t help, but rest assured that whenever I go out, I'm very careful: every time I see how disappointed you are of me... a part of my heart breaks, because you don’t deserve that. If there is a way to make it up to you, please tell me and I’ll do it without hesitating. I swear I don’t do it with intentions of worrying or hurting you, those are things I don’t even want to inflect in you. “  

Ominis’ face softened at the words. Back when Y/N asked Ominis out, the blond boy made Y/N swear that he would be always sincere, because he didn’t have time for a lying bastard who would make him a fool and waste his time. They have gone to the extent of Ominis brewing Veritaserum and making Y/N confess his true intentions, it was a little embarrassing with how long the actual love confession and slightly stalk-ey it was: so sweet, so corny... and shocking, because Ominis couldn’t believe someone, even under the truth-telling potion, would confess romantic love to the younger Gaunt, promising vomit-inducing sweet and lovely experiences and feelings. Usually, Ominis wouldn’t even do things close to that occasion, but when Y/N confessed... the blond Slytherin was beyond paranoid, so sure that it all was a trap to make him pay for his family sins.  

Because... why would a justice-seeking, powerful wizard come closer to Ominis Gaunt? Love was a word that didn’t belong in Ominis’ life dictionary. It certainly was to make him pay for the Gaunt’s family actions; it wasn’t a secret that his family was... notorious for their liking of the Dark Arts. Blood purists, Slytherins through and through. Harsh mindsets. So Ominis was sure that these were Y/N’s intentions at first, make him pay, why else would he be so interested in getting hip-attached to him, following the blond all around the castle if not to spy and kill him in the right moment? 

Certainly, that didn’t happen. The thing that did happened was that suddenly the new fifth year student, local star and Jack-of-all-trades was following Ominis Gaunt around the Castle like a lovesick puppy, offering to carry his things for him and sharing his candy, asking to hold his hand so he wouldn’t have to use his wand to guide himself around. It was quite an eventful week, for them and for the gossipers in the castle. After all of these things, he knew that Y/N couldn’t lie to him, especially face to face. He was also terrible at keeping secrets from Ominis, always wanting to tell him the news- Sebastian had gotten quite a laugh when he saw Y/N behavior towards Ominis.   

Ominis could feel the truth in Y/N words, but he just hummed, as if he was contemplating something. He could feel Y/N tensing on his lap. Maybe he was the calm one in the trio of Sebastian, Y/N and him, but he was also a bastard on his own. He wasn’t a softie like a Hufflepuff, he wasn’t rational enough like a Ravenclaw and certainly he didn’t have the ‘I don’t give a fuck if its right’ attitude a Gryffindor had. He liked having power in his hands and being unpredictable, like a Slytherin. He usually didn’t believe in the house stereotype because there were people of all kinds everywhere, but this time... He wanted to feel Y/N’s regret on his face, so he didn’t hold on. Ominis’ hands reached for Y/N’s face, and when the boy saw the motion, he placed his face on Ominis’ pretty hands, closing his eyes in delight and a smile so bright that could kill the sun. Immediately, the blond boy sighed and started to touch his boyfriend’s face, the pads of his fingers analyzing every inch of soft skin, giving the idiot a light pinch on the freshly healed cut on his cheek. The scarred skin he was mad about.  

“Ow, I deserve that.” Y/N’s closed one eye, biting his lower lip when he felt the slight pain of the pinch. Still, he moved impossibly closer to him, wanting to feel more of the touch. Even when Ominis was mad, he was so careful when he was feeling Y/N up... when he wasn’t pinching his cuts. It made Y/N want to cry; the blond was everything Y/N wished for.  

“You’re an idiot, Y/N.” Ominis sighed, then, his left hand grabbed Y/N’s chin and with his right hand, he tapped on Y/N’s mouth. “Do I have to train you or something?” he asked in that posh accent of his, then he pinched his boyfriend’s nose playfully. “Maybe that way you’re not going to run around and get your hard head smacked so much, I know about your weekly visits to the potion’s classroom and infirmary. We should get you a leash, be my guardian dog instead.”  

“Ominis...” Y/N whined; he knew that Ominis was trying to make him feel embarrassed by treating him like a kid, but... he didn’t see it like that. It was almost like... like if Ominis was seducing him, his milky eyes staring at Y/N’s soul, so intense and burning. His handsome face sneering at the thought of training his boyfriend to behave correctly. It shouldn’t happen, but it did... Y/N’s cock twitched at the thought. Y/N closed his eyes, containing a moan at the sinful way Ominis was behaving. “Stop.”  

There was something that inflicted a deep desire inside of Y/N when Ominis talked about Y/N’s missteps. Everyone talked about how Y/N was invincible, always moving in a correct calculated way and his clean victories, but Ominis not only took notice of that, but he also noticed Y/N’s clumsiness, things he shouldn't have done and how he got his ass kicked sometimes. It was... pretty hot, if Y/N was honest.  

Ominis being so... seductive without even knowing was totally unfair. The fight wasn’t even, he had lost without having his turn.   

“Why? Are you finally ashamed of yourself, behaving like that?” Ominis started caressing one of Y/N’s cheeks with his thumb, longer fingers slightly touching his eyebrows.  

“Oh, God. Yes, Ominis. “  

“And why are you ashamed? Of being an idiot? For not telling me? Of being hurt?” Ominis coo-ed cruelly, smiling as if he was having fun. He was, having Y/N on his knees was fun every time it happened. Ominis liked having certain control over Y/N, the fierce, strong and cunning fifth year Slytherin everybody was so fond of, believing him to never get on his knees for anyone. This certainly was a new side of him he didn’t knew about before entering a relationship with Y/N.  

“Of being hard...” Y/N admitted, biting his lower lip but he didn’t do anything else, he wouldn’t dare. The blond was still mad at him and if he dared to assume... he would piss off Ominis even more, and that his heart couldn’t take. “I’m-”  

“Horny dog. “ Ominis hissed, slapping him softly on the cheek. It was a playful gesture that always got Y/N going and Ominis knew damn well about it. They both respected each other a lot, it was a pilar in their relationship, hitting was off limits, except in more intimate occasions and with prior consent asked... but the story about how they found out about it... Y/N hand gotten a little handsy one time in a snogging session, palming Ominis’ crotch on top of his trousers and it had startled Ominis to death, slapping Y/N automatically since, well, nobody had touched him like that, especially in such urgent obscene way. It made Y/N hard that one time, too. Ominis and Y/N had apologized profusely, but they had agreed to take things slowly since their relationship back then was freshly new.   

But now? Since they had started to explore with each other they had become freer to touch the other. Ominis was playing dirty right now.   

“Yes, I am.” Y/N sighed, becoming affected as he stared at Ominis’ covered legs. The blond was slim, but he did have some meat on his thighs, a detail forever burned on Y/N’s mind from the times they fooled around. Such strong legs...  

“Everyone thinks you’re some sort of hero, but do they know how highly inappropriate you are? Here I am, scolding you for wanting an early death, and you start thinking with your other head? Are you serious?” Ominis sneered, not actually believing Y/N’s state, but deep down knowing that it was the truth. Y/N never lied to him. His hands started to look for Y/N’s mouth, then, he tapped on his boyfriend’s lips with two fingers of his right hand, his left caressing his beloved’s warm cheek. So, Y/N was blushing, it seemed. “Open up.”  

Y/N swallowed a whine and did as he was told the moment he knew what this was about. He got into the perfect spot just as Ominis spit on Y/N’s mouth, receiving all of Ominis’ saliva. The blond’s perfect lips were glossy from the fluid, which felt silky once he received it on his tongue. Ominis was furiously blushing at the action, but remained in that regal demeanor of his, seemingly not caring, but his body betraying him. Ominis’ hand was shaking, his milky eyes staring deeply right into Y/N’s own [color] eyes, he could swear that Ominis could see the debauchery of all of it for a second. Y/N moaned as he licked it, wanting to coat his mouth in Ominis’ saliva, once he was satisfied, YN swallowed and licked his lips, staring with wide eyes at Ominis’ calm ones. Y/N’s cock throbbed; he was achingly hard now. It felt so erotic, Y/N couldn’t believe it. Usually, Ominis was pretty shy about these things, not confident enough for something so... dirty and bold, but getting out of his comfort zone to please Y/N in one of his kinks? Ominis was truly a selfless angel.   

Once Ominis felt satisfied enough, his hands retreated from his boyfriend’s face, then he started to slowly stand up... or so he tried, because Y/N buried his face on Ominis’ thighs when he felt that the blond was going to leave the position.   

“Let me eat your ass.” Y/N pleaded against one meaty thigh, “please.” he started to caress urgently Ominis’ legs, feeling them up and groping. Ominis had no business being that tempting, Y/N was very sorry for making him feel bad and worried, such a wonderful creature only deserved to feel positive emotions. He needed to have his mouth all over this angel. “I might die if I can’t.” he added.  

Ominis snorted at the last line, it was ridiculous, but knowing Y/N’s hunger for him... it was quite possible. It still made Ominis shy, knowing about how much his boyfriend wanted him... in that sense too. Since a young age, Ominis had accepted that he was going to be alone during all his life, people didn’t want a burden when they were looking for a partner. With the years, Ominis had learned how to take care of himself, so others didn’t have to. He couldn’t do a lot of things, of course, but he wasn’t entirely disabled, magic helped a lot, too.   

It hurt to admit it, but maybe Ominis was insecure. He knew he was different; people knew that... that’s why Sebastian was his only friend before Y/N came into the picture. He never had and will never know how his family looked, how Sebastian, his friend, looked. How his boyfriend looked. How he, himself, looked. He could try to get an image, if you will, by touching their faces, and his own body, but it wasn’t the same. That was why a lot of people only were in formal-friendly terms with him, just in case they needed something from him in the future, never any close.   

Ominis had come to terms with that fact and was ready to spend his lifetime alone, or that was the plan until Y/N Y/LN one day just popped into the Slytherin common room, being the center of gossip and whispers. The new fifth year who was powerful, mysterious and kind. Fearless.  

Until said popular boy confessed his love to him, to Ominis Gaunt.  

Until said popular boy confessed that he had inappropriate dreams about Ominis Gaunt.  

Until Y/N one night apologized to Ominis because he had touched himself while thinking about him, talking about how gorgeous he was and how he wanted to give Ominis all his firsts.  

Y/N truly was making Hogwarts an experience for Ominis Gaunt, proving him wrong, dissipating his dark thoughts with sweet and hopeful promises and whispers to take care of him, to one day, run away with Ominis where nobody knew them, and they would own a cottage home in the woods.   

Ominis smiled.  

“Abandoning all sense of decorum, are we?” The blond Slytherin teased, feeling lighter now that he heard Y/N desperate plea. He could feel his face heating up, ‘eating his ass’ had said his boyfriend crudely. Such an obscene request, yet he could feel Y/N’s excitement while he waited for Ominis’ approval.   

Usually Y/N was very proper when talking, ever so respectful and never pushy. Never using a crude language. 

Usually, not with Ominis.  

And he liked that. 

“You’re so handsome, Ominis, it’s not fair.” Y/N whined, biting Ominis’ left clothed thigh softly. Ominis could feel the vibration of his boyfriend’s throat when he was talking, Y/N was really leaning into him. “You’re blushing and you look divine, my prince. Can I?”  

Honestly, Ominis didn’t know how they ended up like this, but now he couldn’t deny that the thought of Y/N touching his skin more intimately... it made him throb inside his pants. Also, perhaps spitting into his beloved’s mouth wasn’t that gross as he used to think back when Y/N had asked him to do that while he wanked himself right beside Ominis at the Undercroft.  

Y/N was a creature full of surprises, never ceasing to leave Ominis without words. Biting the insides of his cheek, Ominis decided: he still was pissed off from Y/N’s carelessness, playing around royalist territory that could get him and Sebastian killed... but they could talk later about the matter. The tone in Y/N’s voice was enough to put Ominis in the mood, they still were hormonal teenagers, after all.   

Without saying anything, Ominis blushed even more but he did reach for the button and fly on his trousers, unzipping the expensive fabric slowly. He could feel the rumble Y/N’s groan made against his thigh as unsaid consent was given.  

“You’re killing me, Ominis.” Y/N sighed with desire, immediately pressing his face against Ominis’ clothed crotch, inhaling deeply the boy’s masculine scent once the trousers were undone. He could feel the boy’s clothed hardening member against his face as he inhaled the musky scent deeply, Y/N’s hands immediately got a strong hold of Ominis’ thighs, trying to cover them entirely in the palms of his hands, groping what he couldn’t fit in them. Y/N parted Ominis’ legs with absolute care, nuzzling his face against the blond’s covered private parts shamelessly. He groaned and licked the fabric of Ominis’ boxer shorts, which were peaking slightly from his trousers. Y/N heard Ominis sigh shakily at the sudden touch of his boyfriend’s tongue on his underwear.  

“Y/N...” Ominis whispered, his need to be a bastard to his idiot of a boyfriend subduing. He closed his eyes, shivering slightly as he felt Y/N’s hands touch with such need his thighs, burying his face between them, licking his clothed cock in a highly inappropriate way. To be touched like this with such want made Ominis feel like he was attractive and enough, because there was no other way Y/N Y/LN, local star and sweetheart, highly desirable as a partner in the whole castle, was here, on his knees, wanting to eat Ominis Gaunt’s ass.   

“Can you lay down a little, love?” Y/N murmured, nosing his way from Ominis’ crotch to all the way up to Ominis’ face, where he licked the blond’s cheek, placing a loving kiss after. Then, he smiled at the way Ominis was trying so hard to keep his composure when he was getting just as affected as Y/N was. “May I remove your trousers as well? I really, really want to taste you. Make you feel good, Ominis. My heart is burning with so much desire for you, will you let me? Will you let me to act on my lecherous thoughts about you?” Y/N purred against Ominis’ cheek, kissing his boyfriend’s face repeatedly, small and wet kisses that travelled down to the blond’s neck, where he bit and licked the soft skin, sucking slightly, forming a faint lovebite. Visible enough if you got close to him, not enough to get scolded or detention for misbehaving in school.   

Ominis’ breath hitched at the words and the touch of Y/N, closing his eyes and letting out a small moan when he felt one of Y/N’s hands palming him on the top of his boxers, insistently going up and down, rubbing and sometimes trying to get a grip on the covered and erected hot flesh beneath the fabric.  

“Yes.” Ominis said, out of breath. 

+++

Ominis felt vulnerable, it wasn’t in a bad way, but it certainly was in embarrassing one, because Y/N did see, unlike him. The blond boy could feel his boyfriend’s staring at him, he wasn’t touching him, and he wasn’t saying anything, but Ominis could hear him breathing.  

Maybe Y/N was having second thoughts? Y/N seemed eager to get Ominis on his bed, on all his naked glory. This was the first time Y/N was seeing him like this, the other times they... fooled around a little bit always were in the dark of the night in Ominis’ bed, the curtains drawn and a Silencio charm casted to not wake up Ominis’ roommates. Or they were handjobs or blowjobs inside the arithmancy storage rooms that were all over the castle, boxes containing God-knows-what. Never going more than trousers and boxers down to mid-thighs or shirts completely removed.  

So Ominis, completely naked, lying down on his bed and his feet planted on the bed, with his knees raised, showing everything was completely new. And Y/N wasn’t saying anything, making feel Ominis feel shy and ashamed, his insecurities coming back to him. Didn’t he look good? Maybe Y/N had different expectations about him, but this was him. He couldn’t change himself. Maybe Y/N wasn’t into boys after all, or Ominis himself. Was he looking at Ominis in disgust now that he had seeing him?  

On the other side of the situation, it wasn’t the truth, not at all. Y/N bit his lower lip as he took the sight of Ominis lying naked, his handsome boyfriend was blushing, no doubt feeling shy. That beautiful red tint had expanded to Ominis’ clavicles, a healthy shade on his slightly tanned skin. Ominis, ever so perfect, was lying down, for him. His pretty blond hair, always slicked backwards had some hairs rebelling themselves, staying out of place, even sticking to the boy’s forehead. His chest moved up and down slightly, product of Ominis breathing. Light brown nipples sticking out, wickedly calling out for Y/N’s love, to be bit and wet with his saliva. Then, Y/N’s stare travelled downwards, noticing a faint patch of blond hairs on his boyfriend’s navel, the start of a happy trail leading to the boy’s cock, which rested in a soft bed of short curly hairs that matched the same shade as his head.  

Y/N moaned lowly as his right hand quickly unzipped his own trousers and went inside of his boxer shorts, grabbing his cock and squeezing lightly, in a needy attempt to calm down the throbbing he felt as he continued to take the sight of Ominis. The touch felt heavenly, his [color] eyes not moving from the way Ominis’ own cock was standing rigid, his balls heavy, the skin wrinkled but so soft looking. Then soft skin that led to the boy’s arsehole, which hidden between these glorious asscheeks. Y/N groaned and started masturbating himself, not taking his eyes away. He couldn’t stop himself, while licking his lips Y/N took between two fingers the pre-seminal fluid that gathered on the top of his glans and spread it all over his member, making the jerking motions easier and wet. Without any hint of shame, small ‘oh’s’ escaped Y/N’s mouth, who was still on his knees, but legs parted to make it easier to touch himself.  

With half-lidded eyes, Y/N touched Ominis’ thighs with his left hand, feeling that enticing skin as he continued to drown into the heavenly sight of his boyfriend. Lost in his need to masturbate himself and desire for his icy prince, he had forgotten to say something- had forgotten that Ominis couldn’t see what he was doing.  

“I...” Ominis cleared his throat, then shyly added. “Sorry, uh. L-let me get dressed... I think dinner is soon, we-” The blond inhaled deeply, trying to play it cool.   

Ominis uncertainty woke Y/N up from his cloudy, lustful mind.   

“Merlin, I’m sorry!” Y/N immediately removed his hand off his cock as it burned, opening his eyes in a hurry, he looked at the blond. His eyes were full of guiltiness, he had never been the selfish lover type, he didn’t know what came over to him. Just... Ominis looking like a complete Incubus, alluring him into carnal wishes made him lost it for a couple minutes. He felt ashamed. “Do you want to not continue? Are you hungry, love?”   

“Continue...?”   

“Yes, Ominis. I’m sorry, you look so good, “Y/N groaned and leaned forward, pulling Ominis’ body closer to him. Nuzzling his face against the right thigh, the biting into the soft and warm flesh lovingly. “You look so delicious I had to touch myself for a minute, my cock keeps hurting as I continue to see you, Ominis.” he licked his lips as he explained to the blond. “I’m so wet, it’s kind of embarrassing.”  

Ominis frowned for a second, then snorted.  

Leave it to Y/N to get into a trance of desire, for once not thinking with his upper head, always the smart ass and rational type in most situations- Unless Ominis was involved. Sometimes the blond did believe that his fellow Slytherin was down bad for him.  

“If you’re not having second thoughts...” Ominis parted a little more his legs as he got closer to the edge of the bed, where Y/N was kneeling. Closing his eyes, he sighed shakily and murmured. “I am yours to take.”  

“Ominis...” Y/N groaned and quickly took the blond’s thighs, settling them in his shoulders. Without saying anything else, Y/N quickly acted on his desire. He looked with awe at his boyfriend’s cock, noticing how Ominis’ glans was also glistening with pre-seminal fluid, not quite as much as himself because Ominis, unlike him, didn’t touched himself in front of the other so shamelessly, but it was a nice amount to start with a smooth touch.   

And he did. Y/N took Ominis’ cock with his right hand, his left one instead went to the boy’s balls. With his right hand, Y/N started to touch the blond’s glans, taking the fluid, mixing it with his own and started to properly jerk off the other Slytherin. The grip was firm, but soft, a nice combination. The circumcised erection on his hand twitched at the sudden touch, but Y/N found it endearing. With a loving stare at Ominis’ milky eyes, Y/N got his face closer to the boy’s ballsack.  

His right hand continued touching the other boy’s cock, his fingers occasionally massaging insistently at the opening on the glans, rubbing the fluid all over, then going up and down in a nice rhythm on all the length, enjoying the sight of the foreskin covering and uncovering the hot flesh. Utterly sinful, but enjoyable for both parts. With his left hand, Y/N massaged caringly at Ominis’ balls and with his face, he simply poked his tongue out and started licking the soft wrinkled skin, inhaling deep the musky manly scent Ominis possessed. Y/N moaned, taking one testicle inside his mouth, licking and sucking slightly. His eyes closed as he indulged himself in Ominis, beautiful, sweet Ominis.   

Said boy, Ominis, opened his eyes suddenly at the sensations, all happening at the same time. It seemed that Y/N didn’t plan to take it slow- not that Ominis was complaining, but it was a lot to take at the same time. He could feel his eyes watering and his bottom lip tremble as Y/N continued to shamelessly masturbate him, picking up the pace as more pre-seminal fluid leaked from his glans, making the slide smoother and wetter, the absolute dirty sound of slapping started as his foreskin got wet, obviously Y/N not minding getting his hand a mess. And having his balls touched, licked and suckled... Ominis bucked his hips up when Y/N simulated a bite with lips on his right ball, it felt way too good to be real. A small sob escaped Ominis’ lips, followed by moans.   

He couldn’t contain them anymore, it was the start, but it was an intense start. He couldn’t keep himself quiet even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. Y/N was doing just a great job and he deserved to know that he was making Ominis feel way too good, even if it was embarrassing.  

It seemed that Y/N was enjoying this too, because not only Ominis’ private parts were slick with his fluids, but with Y/N’s too. His [color] haired boyfriend was producing so much saliva as he licked and sucked so much that it was dripping all over, Ominis could feel the liquid going from his balls to the in-between his asscheeks. He couldn’t contain the shiver that ran over his body, neither.  

“Ominis, my beautiful Ominis. You’re so delightful, my beloved. So delicious. “ Y/N moaned as he went lower, kissing and licking from the tip of Ominis’ cock, to his perineum. Sucking every now and then on the veins of the blond’s cock, or his balls. "I can’t contain myself; I need-” with a quick movement, Y/N stood up, lying next to Ominis and pulling the boy on top of him, Ominis’ knees on each side of Y/N’s face, the pliant boy following Y/N’s requests. This position was easier for eating the blond out, plus, the thought of having Ominis actually riding his face... God, his cock already was throbbing at the thought of it, if Ominis got bolder and did that... Fuck, Y/N could cum untouched, he was pretty sure about that. The Slytherin turned him so much, it wasn’t even funny.  

“R-ride your...?” Ominis’ face got beet red, a small stutter escaped him... it was utterly adorable, seeing him flustered. Ominis got comfier into the position, placing his hands on the headboard, he could feel Y/N’s warm breath on his inner thighs. He could picture the position they were in, it was... so revealing, so dirty.   

“Yes, baby.” Y/N purred and placed his hands on Ominis’ hips, guiding him lower until Y/N’s face was practically a breath away from touching Ominis’ asscheeks. Then, once he was pleased with the position, Y/N’s hands moved to the blond’s cheeks, parting them and without saying anything else, Y/N indulged himself.  

He started with a long lick all over Ominis’ hole, Y/N felt his heart clench with absolute adoration when he noticed that the blond had made a small jump at the feeling. His prince was so lovely...   

“W-wh...?” Ominis tried to talk, but he got cut up. Y/N’s tongue started to increase its pace, licking quicker at the puckered ring of muscle, spreading saliva on it and poking the tip, as if he wanted entrance.   

Ominis’ breath hitched, his hands gripping with force at the headboard. It was a strange feeling, having Y/N’s tongue... down there, shamelessly licking in a place where it shouldn’t be... but since when did Y/N followed the rules?  

Plus... Ominis, even though it was a new first, found himself liking the sensation of his boyfriend going down on him orally in there. His face felt burning, but he let himself to enjoy the experience, Y/N did seem like he was enjoying it quite a lot, moaning and groaning, licking and sucking, his manly hands caressing Ominis’ asscheeks, squeezing and kneading them.   

“Ah, ah, ah,” Ominis let out small moans as he felt Y/N quickening his pace. These hands continued to touch Ominis’ ass without any restriction, that wicked tongue licking and insisting on acquiring permission to his insides, the ring of muscles becoming loose but not quite enough yet. He could feel the Y/N’s saliva dripping down his thighs. “Y/N...” Ominis whined, eyes closing firmly, knuckles becoming white thanks to the gripping force he applied on the headboard.   

“Yes, love, moan. Let me hear you, my darling.” Y/N cheekily bit one of Ominis’ asscheeks, his voice dropping a tone, sounding rough from desire. Then he continued tasting the blond, hands parting those lovely cheeks further.  

Y/N couldn’t believe it, this was one of the bests days he ever had. He was lying down, eating Ominis Gaunt out in his bed, said blond boy moaning and looking like a complete meal above him. Y/N could feel Ominis’ thighs trembling, the slight movement of the blond going down whenever Y/N’s tongue did something right, or his hips going up when he got a certain area overstimulated, trying to escape from the sensation his boyfriend’s inflected until Y/N pulled those lovely hips down again, making him take it.   

He could swear that Ominis was a complete sight to behold, Merlin... how Y/N wished he had one of these muggle dispositives, a camera, to capture this moment forever. A dirty reminder of an extremely good day for both of them.  

The known ice prince was here, with him, showing him his vulnerable side and letting Y/N take care of him... Y/N couldn’t be happier, Ominis Gaunt, a truly selfless angel.  

If someone told Y/N that a certain solitary and stoic, awfully cryptic but polite angry boy he met outside the Undercroft would let him do this to him, Y/N would have laughed at their face, but deep inside he would be hurt... because mere months ago, this was a fantasy. A mere wet dream when he was dreaming in the dark of the night... or daydreaming in class, with said boy next to him, not paying him any attention.   

But now... now it was reality, the world was wonderful every now and then.  

With the insistence of his tongue and the slickness his saliva had, he felt Ominis’ hole finally given up, declaring the war lost. Y/N won, and he took advantage of it. As if he were a man suffering from the worst thirst, seconds away from death of dehydration... he grabbed Ominis by the hips and straight up slammed the boy’s ass against his face, moaning when his tongue finally entered inside Ominis’. The warm and soft walls welcomed him, clenching on his tongue. Y/N moaned wantonly; this was heaven.  

At the sudden grab, Ominis for a moment thought that he was going to fall, so he gripped on the headboard tighter until he realized that his perverted boyfriend had basically smashed his face against Ominis’ ass, penetrating him with his tongue. Closing his eyes firmly, Ominis’ face pressed against the headboard, brokenly moaning. His hips trying to escape the weird sensation of wet intrusion, but Y/N keep him in place, his still kneading Ominis’ ass and his tongue doing those obscene thrusts inside and out.   

“ Mmnm, Y/N... you’re... you’re a pervert.” Ominis moaned, coming to terms that he did love this bedroom activity. Y/N was so hungry for him which always got him going... and this? Once the sensation stopped being weird, it felt... good. Merlin, he could feel his hole clenching, gushing the excess of Y/N’s saliva out. “A-ahh... yes, yes, there.”  

“Mmnh,” Y/N agreed enthusiastically, his left hand travelling to Ominis’ cock, starting to masturbate it. Ominis was leaking so much, he did enjoy this. His cock throbbed so much; he wasn’t going to last any longer. Y/N was a man of many talents, indeed.  

It was too much, feeling his ass getting eaten out and being masturbated at the same time, Ominis could feel his balls tightening. His bottom lip trembled, and his thighs were closing unconsciously, without knowing, he started moving his hips up and down, riding Y/N’s face like he wanted to.   

Y/N immediately took notice of it, and he loved every second of it. Ominis was starting to prioritize his pleasure than his composure and it was just... so damn hot. He could feel Ominis’ knees touching each side of his neck, If Ominis continued to close his thighs he could choke Y/N with them... the thought shouldn’t have been that arousing but... Ominis riding his face and choking him with his thighs? Was this heaven? So be it. He was only human; the heavens were glorious for permitting him have this, for having Ominis Gaunt as his lover.  

As the seconds passed, Ominis’ moans increased in frequency and volume, his hips losing that shyness and now properly riding Y/N’s face. It was truly a sight, the blond’s hair was completely unkept, his face was a little sweaty and the blush expanded to his chest. His small happy trail was slick with sweat, and his cock was fully erected, a red tint on his leaking glans. The whole cock was completely wet with his own fluids, heavy balls tightening... and his hole clenching uncontrollably on Y/N’s tongue, completely wet as well, but this time with Y/N’s saliva. His ass had a faint red tint from all the fondling Y/N did on them.   

Y/N continued to lick, suck and masturbate the blond until he felt the boy tensing and letting out a loud moan, followed by a few sobs, immediately, he felt Ominis closing his thighs with an incredibly force. His insides clenched impossibly tight, his lithe body trembling entirely. In that moment Y/N knew that Ominis was cumming, Y/N kept eating the boy out, but his left hand quickly went downwards, going inside his boxer shorts and starting to desperately masturbate himself.   

Ominis was such a beautiful being, so divine and delicious. With a deep moan, Y/N took his own cock on his hand, taking notice of how get he was and starting to jerk himself off: up and down, teasing the glans as he slowly let Ominis go, the blond boy lifting his hips up the moment he felt overstimulated by Y/N’s insistent tongue.  

Ominis sobbed as he felt how his cock shoot the ribbons of cum, his hips escaping his lover’s caresses. He felt his hole gaping a little, the sticky sensation of saliva in there making him feel obscene, along with the feeling of saliva running down his thighs... but he enjoyed it nonetheless, especially as he heard Y/N touching himself, beneath him, no doubt looking at Ominis’ ass, being the huge pervert he already was. The dirty sound of Y/N’s hands touching his own cock at the sight of Ominis... it made him feel the ‘butterflies’ inside his stomach, as fellow students described the feeling of being with someone you loved.  

“So delicious, Omimi.” Y/N groaned he felt himself climaxing, eyes half-lidding as he saw Ominis retreating from the now embarrassing position (at least for Ominis, who was flashing his everything to Y/N), giving Y/N a fantastic view of all his naked, affected, body. There was a healthy flush and sweat traces on Ominis’ body, said boy had his navel and right hand covered in that incriminating white fluid... Ominis’ cum. With his free hand, before Ominis could move further, Y/N took Ominis’ cum-covered had and guided it towards his mouth, not having a single doubt as he took it inside his mouth, licking it clean, digit by digit, and the entirety of his palm.  

Y/N swallowed Ominis’ cum as he continued jerking himself, reaching his climax no long after. His own balls tightening, his wet glans made him feel that delicious burning feeling he got whenever he rubbed so insistently. Y/N’s orgasm approached so violently, quickly, Y/N covered the small opening to not stain the sheets any further... strings of white cum escaped the tip, making even more of a mess on his cock, which now was covered with his own sticky, warm white semen, pooling at the base. How... would it feel to enter inside of Ominis like this, with his cock covered in cum? Would it be easier to thrust in? Would Ominis like it? 

Y/N moaned louder at the thought and continued jerking it until the sensations became too much, stopping once his cock decided it was enough of showing its appreciation for Ominis by emptying his balls. Then Y/N casted a cleaning charm for both of them, wandless magic now being one of Y/N’s talents. He took a deep breath and swallowed a whine. 

Once Ominis felt that Y/N calmed himself a little, he abandoned the position and instead, he lied down next to his boyfriend. Immediately, Ominis hugged Y/N by his hips, sighing as he nuzzled his face against Y/N’s neck, inhaling deeply that masculine scent that he loved so much.  

Y/N took a deep breath and returned the hug, smiling brightly at Ominis.  

“You’re so cute, Omimi.” Y/N kissed Ominis deeply and lovingly, noticing how Ominis’ blond hair no longer was slickened backwards, it was all over the place. He looked so damn cute. Then, Y/N kissed Ominis’ forehead. “I’m sorry for all that happened, I promise I won’t go looking for trouble... purposefully.”  

“I know that you don’t. But do be careful, love.” Ominis sighed, not abandoning Y/N’s neck, instead, he got comfier in there. “I just hate that you hide things like that from me.”  

“I won’t do it anymore, I promise.” Y/N answered immediately, pressing small kisses on every beauty mark on Ominis’ face. “I will come straight to you, I promise, nurse Gaunt. And I will try my best to not get my hard head smacked so much.”  

Ominis snorted but hugged him closer, he seriously loved this idiot.  

“Deal.” 

+++

Once the couple got their pajamas on, they drew the curtains in Ominis’ bed and cuddled each other, drifting slowly to sleep between whispered sweet-nothings and promises to care for each other. They were that couple.  

Unknowingly to them, a very flustered and red-faced Sebastian Sallow had been an unexpected witness of their whole... love session.  

In Sebastian’s defense, he had been about to leave the dormitory since Ominis had asked him earlier to before he had accepted to talk with Y/N, telling Sebastian that he was going to knock some sense into Y/N’s hard head and things could get ugly, and that he didn’t want to draw Sebastian into a lover's quarrel. But he didn’t leave in time, and when he had heard his two friends arguing outside the dorm, Sebastian had casted a disillusionment charm to sneak out whenever they were distracted enough to not notice the door suddenly opening but... but.   

Everything escalated rather quickly, one second, they were arguing and other... was Ominis flirting? And Y/N acting like he was totally whipped on Ominis’ finger? It was amusing to watch... so he stayed. Sebastian was curious about their relationship now, because they never looked lovey-dovey whenever the three of them were hanging out, saying that they didn’t want to make things awkward. Instead of a couple, whenever all of them were together, they looked like normal friends. So, he was curious and stayed... but then things got heated. Like, really heated.  

Now the sight of his best friend spitting on his other friend was forever burned in Sebastian’s mind and... the whole thing.   

He couldn’t believe he had just watched Y/N lick Ominis’ ass, and Ominis enjoying it, then both getting really into it. It was... hot. Sebastian had never thought that gay sex was hot, but his own cock seemed to disagree now, his own trousers pathetically tented and begging for release.   

Ominis and Y/N shall never know about this. 

#one shot #male reader #Ominis Gaunt x male reader #Ominis Gaunt x Y/N #Ominis Gaunt #Ominis Gaunt x MC #Ominis x MC #Ominis x male oc #ominis x player character

[ankh-morporkianpostalworker]

Anatomy of a Hero - Samuel Vimes

He wanted to go home. He wanted it so much that he trembled at the thought. But if the price of that was selling good men to the night, if the price was filling those graves, if the price was not fighting with every trick he knew... Then it was too high. History finds a way? Well, it would have to come up with something good, because it was up against Sam Vimes now.

Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

Fantasy has created some truly remarkable characters, and it's fair to say that Samuel Vimes of the Discworld series is among them - and he's a personal favorite.

This is the first in a (sporadic) series of posts analyzing my favorite fantasy protagonists and what I think makes them work as characters and how they fit into their stories.

Samuel Vimes is the protagonist of eight of Terry Pratchett's seminal Discworld novels - specifically, Guards! Guards!, Men at Arms, Feet of Clay, Jingo, Fifth Elephant, Night Watch, Thud!, and Snuff. These novels make up what is colloquially referred to as the City Watch series, and they answer the question "what if the city guard in a fantasy series got stuff done?"

Vimes is the head of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch and starts off as a parody of the drunken watch captain, literally waking up in a gutter at the start of Guards! Guards!. While it's obvious from the start that he has a sense of justice and a desire to see justice served, years of being beaten down by a city that doesn't need him anymore has left him at his lowest point. In fact, Guards! Guards! is about him getting her proverbial groove back and solving his first real mystery in ages.

We then see Vimes grow into a respected member of the community, transforming the City Watch from a joke (at the start of the series, it's four people) into a pillar of the City, an institution in its own right.

Vimes himself struggles with addiction throughout the series with the help of his wife, Sybil, and members of the Watch (especially his right-hand man, Carrot), going from alcohol to cigars to bacon sandwiches by the end of the series.

We also see how Vimes fits into the central theme of the City Watch - social inequality and the importance of overcoming it. Sam starts the series with a... not-great view of the non-human residents of the city of Ankh-Morpork (although this view is better described as general misanthropy than racism, with him distrusting anyone who isn't his wife or a member of the Watch). This view is changed as the series progresses - between the first two novels, a coalition of minority groups successfully sues the city of Ankh-Morpork for employment discrimination in government positions and Vimes is forced to allow non-human people into the Watch. He comes to recognize that these people are, well, people with value not only as people but as law enforcement officials. Twice, Vimes uses his social power to advocate for downtrodden species to be treated as people, with full rights and protections under the law - for golems in Feet of Clay and goblins in Snuff, and the City Watch becomes the most diverse organization in the entirety of Discworld.

The last thing I'll talk about is Vimes' aforementioned desire for justice. Night Watch gives us a view into the life of an early Sam Vimes (Vimes is sent back in time to just before the Glorious Revolution, a now-forgotten struggle against a despot) - indeed, in his youth Sam was a revolutionary, inspired by Sgt. John Keel (whom Vimes takes the place of after finding Keel dead). During this Revolution, young Sam Vimes witnessed a number of things that would impact him for the rest of his life, including the torture chambers of The Unspeakables, a secret police force who committed horrible crimes in the name of the public good and who act as the antagonists of the novel. The quote that started this essay comes from near the climax of the novel, and I think it really encapsulates that desire for justice and why Sam Vimes works as a protagonist - one of the best in fantasy.

#sam vimes #discworld #city watch #gnu terry pratchett

[thydungeongal]

What adventure would you suggest to see what Really Good and narratively satisfying dungeon crawler looks like?

There's a few I'm particularly fond of personally:

Sunless Citadel for D&D 3e (also reprinted in some place or another for 5e): The first official module for D&D 3e is by no means perfect, but it still contains all the necessary elements of a dungeon crawl with just one tiny hook needed to draw the characters in and no necessary order in which to complete it. The first level is characterized by a conflict between goblins and kobolds that player characters can get involved in, which emphasizes the fact that even the inhabitants of dungeons aren't there just for the sake of serving as XP piñatas. The first level even has multiple possible routes for characters to take, including one that is ultimately a dead end that leads into an entirely optional super-difficult fight which I don't remember if it's very well telegraphed, but even its placement there suggests that there can be reason for characters to revisit dungeons later. The second level isn't great, because it's basically a linear gauntlet of encounter on the way to the goal, but it also provides an easy avenue for expanding the dungeon into further adventures with a route to the Underdark.

Incandescent Grottoes and Hole in the Oak for Old-School Essentials. These two modules are both written for Old-School Essentials, a retroclone of the old Basic/Expert edition of D&D from the eighties. As such, they have very different assumptions, including no reason for the characters to go there than just the desire to explore and get treasure. But they're really good non-linear dungeons focused on open exploration as well as a degree of puzzle solving. Incandescent Grottoes especially has very open architecture allowing for multiple avenues of movement between the two dungeon levels (at least four if not more) and both modules have sufficiently detailed NPC factions with webs of relationships, meaning there's room for getting involved in so many tiny narrative hooks while exploring the dungeons. Also, the two dungeons can explicitly be connected together to make for a massive starter level dungeon with enough to explore for at least half a dozen sessions, and there are even story hooks that connect the two dungeons (I won't spoil it in any more detail, but the NPC faction in one dungeon is looking for NPCs holed up in the other).

Isle of the Plangent Mage, also for Old-School Essentials. This module is more than just a dungeon crawl, since it's also a small, self-contained wilderness exploration module, but a lot of the praise I gave the aforementioned module applies here. Most of the module is however taken over by a multi-level dungeon which is a Wizard's underwater lab where they were conducting experimence. What sets Isle apart from those two is that it's one of those dungeons where through exploring it player characters uncover the place's history and if they so choose they can actually take it upon themselves to finish the wizard's job, which will then open more avenues for exploration.

Do not that the latter three adventures don't have narrative content in the sense of "a prewritten story for player characters to get involved in," but in the sense that they all allow players lots of freedom in terms of where to take their characters and multiple situations they can poke their heads in. Even if they just want to loot they will still see weird sights and experience cool events while doing so.

#thydungeongal answers

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

in a new body

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!insecure!reader (enemies to friends and maybe lovers, but not stated)

request: imagine being insecure about your stomach because of draco then he gets to know you and makes you feel more comfortable in your skin? please

warnings: body-hatred, insecurity of body, body dysmorphia(?), honestly just hating one's body

notes: this one hit home, just cried to my therapist last week about this! haha! live, laugh, love!

you hated draco malfoy.

actually, hate is a strong word; you extremely disliked draco malfoy. he believed he was better than everyone else with his stupid face, his stupid slytherin family history, his stupid rich background, and his stupid cruelty towards you.

draco malfoy was stupid and you highly disliked him.

for years, you had received as much torment as harry potter from draco malfoy due to your weight, especially your stomach. you'd be the laughing stock of malfoy and the rest of his slytherin gang, no matter how many times ginny weasley and hermione granger would tell you, "don't pay that evil little cockroach any mind."

you wish you could say the same thing to the voice in your head, screaming at you to do those ab workouts, to not eat as much during the school meals. you wish you could just flip a switch, that draco would stop asking you how many pounds you put on just from breakfast alone, or if you had any trouble fitting into your skirt that morning.

"or you can just sock him in the throat," mentioned ron, mouth full of food.

"you wanna do it for me?" you asked back, an eyebrow raised. ron shook his head and went back to his plate.

hermione sighed beside you, "why not bring it up to dumbledore? or even snape? they should hear the vile things he says to you."

you shrugged, "i don't know, i don't think it's worth it, honestly. that might just make him come at me more and at the moment, i cannot handle that." you tried to laugh at the end, but it came out struggled.

ron gave a smile across from you, mouth full of food, "at least you're not harry, fighting draco constantly to see who the heir of slytherin is."

harry's face turned red, "ron, please, can we not?"

you gave a quiet laugh, "i actually appreciated that ron, thank you." harry groaned beside the redhead.

ginny was about to comment until you heard the goblin voice of draco malfoy himself directly behind you, "hey, y/n, walk any steps today to shed off some pounds? looks like you need to."

hermione glared at draco, "how dare you speak to her, or anyone, like that! you are utterly repulsive!"

draco glanced around the table, "granger, when?"

hermione shot him a look, "when what?"

draco snickered, "did i ask? but seriously y/n, give your legs a break from carrying all that!" and with that, he walked away, proud of himself as he pounded knuckles with crabbe and goyle.

ron and harry stood up, ready to lunge at draco before you gave them a look, shaking your head.

you bit your lip, "suddenly not hungry anymore. um, i think i'm gonna head up to the dorms. see you guys later?"

before anyone could disagree, you stood up from the benches and made your way out of the great hall, running into fred and george who quickly noticed your watery eyes.

"you alright there, y/n?" fred asked, and you nodded quickly, "yes, i'm fine but i have to go - study. goodbye."

the twins looked at one another, and then at your retreating form, "y/n, are you sure-" their question dropped as you continued on.

and with that, the twins were left dumbfounded until they were informed by their friends, brother, and sister.

not long after that incident, draco left you alone, making you and your friends become very suspicious, as if malfoy had a trick up his sleeve. but shockingly, he didn't, and he continued to not talk to you until potions class.

when professor snape decided partnering up different classmates was a great idea, and you two ended up together. he had wandered over to your desk, sitting beside you.

he smirked, "y/n."

you nodded, "listen, just let me do this potion so we can get a decent grade and then you can go back to torturing me, ok? unless you want your grade to suffer?"

draco stayed quiet, somewhat taken aback by your words, "i can help, you know, might as well make sure someone like you doesn't screw it up."

you looked up from the textbook, "someone like me? right, because i'm so repulsive to look at, draco. thank you for the reminder, i'll make sure to dedicate my next workout to you, you git."

with tears on the verge of falling, you grabbed your textbook and hastily walked out the room, professor snape yelling, "and two weeks worth of detention for you, miss l/n!"

you flipped him off right outside the classroom, somewhat bummed and relieved at the same time that he didn't see it.

draco was stunned, simple as that. he knew he was a jerk, a total asshole, but to him, it was pure fun. there was no harm - at least to him. but now, as he sat in potions class, noticing how all eyes were on him, he came to the realization that there was harm done.

draco never actually thought you were heavy or overweight, or even ugly; by merlin no, he thought you were so pretty. yet, he wanted to slap himself as that was no excuse to bully her until she cried - no, he knew that was the wrong way to go about it.

so then why did he do it? he hated that stupid saying that guys bullied girls because they liked them, but draco wondered if that were true in his case. or if he just didn't want to acknowledge his feelings for you.

he pondered the rest of potions class, speechless as to why he thought making fun of your weight was any excuse to talk to you. all he did was hurt you so deeply, cut wounds into your being.

draco knew he was an asshole, and knew he messed up. so how does he apologize?

apologizing was not his strong suit as he never needed to; well, at least to anyone besides his parents. why apologize to anyone else if nobody was as important as them? oh, but you were. you were so full of life and jokes, so kind to him when you all arrived as first-years, yet he has always been so cruel to you. was draco seriously this foreign to kindness that he decided the easiest way to reciprocate was to be mean?

yeah, i guess so.

draco stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. everyone looked at him and draco glanced to snape, "i've got to go." and with that, he was gone, leaving everyone with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

hermione looked to ron, "where do you think he's going?"

ron shrugged, "beats me. maybe thinking of new insults to hurl at y/n. it's been a while."

hermione sighed and shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, "i wanna go look for her, ron."

harry heard her and shook his head, "bad idea; i think snape might lose it if one more person leaves or even raises their hand."

severus snape was indeed distraught at the behavior that was taking place in his classroom.

but he was not as taken aback as you were now in the astronomy tower.

why had it taken all up until now for you to snap? to even come back at him with something as much as anger? draco deserved to be yelled at, to be slapped, to be, as ron said, "socked in the throat."

you wiped your tears, sitting on the concrete floor as sobs racked your shoulders again. a few owls surrounded and flew around the tower as you whispered, "i hate my body. i have so much hatred for this fat, the way i look, the way i feel. i hate it." you sobbed, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks.

you let out a shaky breath, looking in your bag to grab a tissue before snot became your worst enemy. you wiped your nose, wrinkling it at the feeling before you sighed. you sniffled, tears filling your eyes again.

"i'm sorry."

you jumped, looking around for the source of the voice until you saw draco shuffle out of the darkness by the concrete wall.

you scoffed, "ugh, merlin! go away, malfoy. you're the last person i want to see right now, if you haven't caught on."

he kicked against the floor, "i deserve that."

"and i deserved your bullying, too, right?"

draco glanced to you, shaking his head even though yours had turned back around. he stepped closer, "no, no, you didn't. i'm... i'm a git, you're right."

you sniffled, looking to him as he sat beside you. you grumbled, "took you long enough."

draco huffed a laugh, "it did. and you can still hate me after this, but i truly am sorry. you didn't deserve what i said and did to you, and i can't imagine how you must feel."

silence enveloped between the both of you until he continued, "i heard what you said earlier, about your body."

your eyes had been closed, and you hummed, "not exactly a shocker."

"because of what i said? no, it's not, and i'm sorry again."

you held up a hand, looking at him, "draco."

draco looked you in the eyes, "y/n."

you gave a slight laugh, "it's okay, i forgive you."

draco nodded, "i'm sorry for making you feel so shitty about yourself. nobody deserves to feel that way, especially you, because you were nothing but kind to me and i treated you terribly."

you smiled softly at him, "you did, but you're apologizing now. my issues i can deal with on my own, but you took the time to apologize now so i'm grateful for that."

draco was stunned, a frown on his face, "how are you kind to me right now? i was terrible to you!"

you gave him side-eye, "i said terrible shit about you in my head, so i figured i should be nice."

the two of you laughed loudly at that comment, draco's eyes crinkling. as it died down, he rested a hand on the back of your head. he turned you towards him, "you're beautiful. truly stunning, y/n. i'm sorry i said those things about you."

you gave a small smile as tears welled in your eyes, "thank you draco, it's okay."

draco leaned back on his one hand, the other still in your hair, "can i help you in any way? to help you love yourself and your body?"

you were shocked to the core at his words this entire time, but now your eyes were just popping out of your head. you stumbled, "oh - no, no, i don't think so. it's just something i need to learn, y'know, to love my body. it's just...hard."

draco nodded and he smiled, "i have an idea."

your face drained of color, worried this might have been a joke all along. draco continued, "instead of insults, i'll give you compliments throughout the day. maybe that can help?"

this draco was so sweet compared to the old one; you suddenly had the urge to just grab his cheeks and go on about how sweet he was. this was such a turn of events.

"then," draco went on, "you wont want to be in a new body."

you smiled, "that sounds like a great idea, draco. thank you."

draco's cheeks flushed, "yeah, not a problem, it's whatever."

maybe during this new change in events, draco and yourself can figure out how to deal with the pounding in your chests.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #fem!reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco malfoy x reader imagine #ronald weasley #hermione granger #harry potter x reader #severus snape #potions class #body dysmorphia #sad reader #sad!reader #hogwarts #somewhat body dysmorphia #reader hates her body #draco redeems himself #nice draco #draco likes you #fluff #angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst

[licorice-lips]

Okay, so I was thinking about Snape and although I'm avoiding like hell speaking online about Harry Potter, I think it needs to be said because it falls onto the rest of fantastical literature as well, especially those stories that have parallels to fascism/nazism/colonialism in their magical world.

I'd like to start by saying I don't like Snape for a variety of reasons, some of them because of Rowling, others because of the character himself, and others because of his fans, but today I'd like to talk about how Snape's Redemption Arc actually sucks and why, and also about how we're treating redemption arcs as a whole.

Okay, so let's begin by making a sort of timeline on Snape's life: he grew up in an abusive household, suffered bullying by the Marauders through school years, bullied other students as well, called his best friend a slur, "apologized", joined a fascist hate group that actively persecuted and hurt people for things they had no control of, acted on behalf of this group for years, turned against the hate group not out of morals but because their actions began to threaten the people he cared about (like they always said they would, how shocking), bullied his teenage students as a grown adult, acted as a spy against the hate group when it came back, died.

Right, so before I dive into all those things, what we also have to add is that Art isn't made in a vacuum. Just like science can never be done by a completely neutral party, our productions of art are completely based off of our views, especially when we're talking about writing. As a writer myself, I can see exactly how my experiences as a person in the context I was born and grew up in affect my writing and my production of art.

For example, it's very common that I find enemies calling themselves by their last names in American/European fiction but in Brasil, we don't normally call people by their last names unless it's very unique and as a nickname. So when I write enemies, they always call each other by their first names, simply because it doesn't feel right to me any other way. On a more serious example, most of the countries in my fantasy books have some history of colonization or dictatorship because it's a part of my history and I feel it's impacts to this day, so it's something that reflects my own thoughts and ideas in politics.

So when we talk about Snape as a character, we cannot escape the fact that Rowling created him. And as a European author, it's more than clear —and that's especially obvious to people who suffer under colonization to this day— that Rowling has a deeply ingrained colonizer mentality. The goblins in Gringots are a clear and problematic representation of Jewish people, the domestic elves LIKING being enslaved and not changing the status quo by the end of the books, and even Hermione being ridiculed for her militancy on it — these are all representative of how Rowling views the world.

Although there's more, all of those examples make it clear that, when she looks at fascist ideology as a whole, Rowling doesn't think the ideology itself is the problem: the ending is the depiction of them getting rid of the "bad apples" instead of making the "roots of the tree" healthy again is parallel to blaming bad individuals for a system that is corrupted and therefore corrupts. So basically, what the Harry Potter books tell us by the end is that it's okay for you to perpetuate a racist system, just don't do it so openly. The problem for her is not the system, but these people she considers "bad apples" which is basically right-wing ideology.

And my problem with Snape starts here: because Rowling sees purist views as an acceptable way of thinking as long as you don't kill people because of it (because for some reason that's a step too far — but when the system oppresses, beat down, and hates on marginalized people, that's okay) — in her mind and in her writing, Snape's ideological affiliation earlier on in his life is not that big of a problem, especially when he "changes sides".

Snape's active participation in a hate group is dangerously and irresponsibly downplayed both by Rowling and by Snape's apologists and fans when this is, in reality, one of the two greatest offenses his character has to compensate for in his "Redemption Arc". So when he hesitates at nine yo to say to Lily that being a Muggleborn doesn't make a difference (even when he knows it does in a practical sense of what's happening in the Wizarding World), when he despises Petuney for being a Muggle, when he says to Lily that what he, Mulciber and their "death eaters" friends did to Mary McDonald was "just a laugh (btw, I'm sure the Marauders also think what they did was "just a laugh" as well), all of this is not only extremely reprehensible, it's the kind of thing that makes a fascist, a fascist.

And it's not that I don't believe teenagers cannot change their minds and grow with more ease than adults, it's just that this alone would've been enough grounds to understand why Snape's redemption arc sucks. His beliefs from early on, even before he goes to Hogwarts, are extremely problematic and hateful, and they uphold the very corrupted system that is perpetuated against Muggle-borns in the Wizarding World.

Then we reach the point I wanted to make: it's very clear throughout the books that child and teenager Snape struggles with feelings of deep hatred against his parents (especially his father, who's a Muggle), inadequacy in social life even among his peers (wizards and witches) and isolation, all of which make a person undeniably vulnerable to extremist ideology.

And here's my first issue with Snape and his Redemption Arc: his trauma and feelings should not be an excuse for his bad choices and yet, they are used exactly as such. Yes, Snape was an impressionable teenager and yes, he was influenced by an ideology in his desperation to fit in and find solace in a community, but that doesn't matter.

None of it matters because, at the end of the day, his actions for this ideology are just as harmful, just as awful, just as cruel, as the actions of someone who joined the Death Eaters for thoroughly believing Muggleborns were scum. He harmed people just as much as Yaxley, Mulciber, or any other Death Eater who joined Voldemort for their hatred just for his support alone.

And more than that, even if Snape was in a vulnerable state and impressionable, he was still receiving other kinds of influences, influences that were contrary to the bigotry and cruelty of Voldemort — and he still chose to ignore those influences. There was still a level of choice to what he became as a young adult.

But even if there wasn't, Snape is —or at least he should be— responsible for his own choices regardless of influence. As they say in the Kingdom of Heaven film, when you're before God and he asks you why you did something, you won't be able to say that others told you to do so or that it wasn't convenient to do the right thing — it'll not be enough. And it's not enough because your actions matter more than your intentions. Your actions will be the thing that will determine what happens next, not your intentions. It'll be actions that will shape your path and influence or directly impact the path of others around you, not your intentions.

The older I get, the more I understand the power of action and how it says more than any intention or feeling ever will. At the end of it, Snape's actions are what matters, not his feelings or intentions. But as humans, we're so prone to empathize with others that we actually believe that, because someone feels guilty or regrets the things they did, that's enough to forgive them.

We forget that it's not.

Earning forgiveness must come with 5 major steps —

Accountability — do they acknowledge the way their actions hurt us? Do they acknowledge the way they hurt us? Do they acknowledge their role in our pain?

Apologies — do they apologize? Is their apology sincere? Do they hold themselves accountable in their apologies?

Acceptance — do they feel entitled to forgiveness? Do they accept the consequences of their actions? Do they accept the boundaries you impose on the path to forgiveness?

Amends — Did they take steps to mend what's broken? Do they make choices to prevent them from doing this again? Do they try to help without crossing your boundaries?

Alteration — Did they change the behavior that hurt you? Did they take steps to improve themselves?

Those steps are fundamental in a Redemption Arc because it'll exemplify to the (young) readers what is forgivable and how forgiveness is earned, not deserved. That's what grits me the most about Snape's "Redemption Arc":

There is no accountability, at least not for joining and upholding a hate group, and we kinda get accountability for what he did in his friendship with Lily, but in a fucked up way, let's see:

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just – ” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice. “It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends – you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?” He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.” “No – listen, I didn’t mean – ” “ – to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

It's very important to me that we dissect this piece of dialog because it shows a lot about Snape and how every time he's tried to apologize, there's no accountability.

He didn't say he's sorry he said that slur (to LILY and only Lily, might I add, when at all would've been ideal but I'll have some leniency because of the situation) — he's said he's sorry, but not for what he has done, just for Lily. He didn't take responsibility for his words as he should — he says it 'slipped out' or that 'he didn't mean, again just to LIly.

He accepted no boundaries Lily tried to impose — sleeping outside Gryffindor? Really?

Most importantly of all, he took absolutely ZERO steps to alter his behavior so that he could never harm someone again like he harmed Lily. And that's very important, I cannot begin to explain how: when we regret doing something, the most fundamental step to take in change.

Change is fundamental to forgiveness but it shouldn't be conditioned by it. If we regret doing something harmful, the first thing to do is to change our behavior. Instead, Snape not only doesn't change his problematic behavior, he doubles down on it, joining the hate group Lily pointed out as one of the main problems in why their relationship couldn't continue, acting in the name of said group for years and only backing down on it when Lily is threatened.

And that reveals something about Snape's worldview: for him, since that day he called Lily a slur, the problem wasn't that he was a bigoted piece of shit (like Lily said it was), the problem, in his head, was that he hurt Lily. And that's not true. The problem is, one hundred percent, his bigoted behavior, and Lily says as much, more than one time. He just does not listen to it. He doesn't listen to her.

More than that, though, you can try to point out that he redeems himself by acting against Voldemort but I'm sorry: what Snape did is not enough. He was part — and believed in — a hate group, it's not enough that he changes sides not because of values, but because one person who is being threatened is dear to him (which was the whole prerogative anyway so I failed to see how he's even surprised by this). You can say that this is good or honorable or "love" but it's not cute to base your entire life around one person.

It's not honorable to prioritize one person over a whole world he was threatening before and not caring at all about them. Disregarding other human beings in favor of one is not as pretty as people think it is and Snape represents this very well: it makes you bitter, it makes you become abusive, cruel, a bully to everyone else. It's not pretty, it's not understandable. Be a fucking decent human being, it's actually not that hard.

But I digress again: my point is, that just because Snape regrets the things he has done for Voldemort (not even out of morals, which drives me mad) it doesn't mean he deserves forgiveness. He doesn't and he hasn't earned it, he didn't even try. Actually, he's so stuck in his regret, he's harmful because of it: guilt is a trap, babes. It sucks you in if you let it and makes you miserable as well as anyone around you. You'll be so remorseful and yet you'll hurt people because of it.

And it's the same thing I've been saying since the beginning: we need to stop associating feelings with deserving forgiveness because you don't deserve forgiveness, you earn it. Either you earn it from someone else, from yourself, or from both, but either way, it's earned, not deserved. If I were to excuse my harmful behavior every time just because I regretted doing something instead of earning their forgiveness by taking steps to apologize to the people I've hurt, I would be compared to my father all the time. And THAT would've been an insult.

Anyway, let's just stop feeling sorry for characters, especially fascists, just because they regret something. Please, let us hold our characters accountable for the shit they've done adequately and make our writers actually put in the work to make them earn the forgiveness they crave instead of just wallowing in their own misery, stuck forever in a vortex of hurting and being hurt that sucks people in. It's not a good example for us readers, it's not a good example of behavior, it's not what a good person who did shitty things should strive to be and we shouldn't think it is.

#snape slander #severus snape bashing #anti severus snape #pro james potter #pro marauders #sirius black #writers #writers on tumblr #female writers #books #harry potter #hp fandom #severus snape #snivellus #james potter #the marauders #marauders era #james potter is actually a good person #i really hate snape #sorry not sorry