#without just like throwing ooc at the dash

[discordantrhapsody]

A Lesson in Modern History: the Other Side

Lecture 1

Ten years and eight months ago, Oz Vessalius was thrown into the Abyss.

This is where every Story begins. The day of this young man's coming-of-age coronation, when the hands on that ancient clock moved, setting fate into motion. And yet, this Story unfolding before us now appears to start somewhere far removed from the events of that evening.

I know this Story well, I've read it dozens of times. The setting changes, the time period differs. The Ending varies, just as much. And yet, I can't predict how this current Story will go.

All that I can do is use this journal to recall the details of the Story I'm most familiar with, (comparing them with the current version as necessary). I do this not for myself, but for the sake of you, the Reader. Call it History, call it Reference, call it Context.

Just make sure you pay attention, and ask questions if you have them.

On the day of his 15th (18th) birthday, Oz and his valet Gilbert were exploring the grounds of one of the Vessalius family's properties when they came across a hidden grave. Though the name had been worn from the headstone, a pocket watch in perfect condition dangled from the stone cross. When wound, the watch played a delicate music box tune, the melody of which would awaken someone else's memories within Oz.

With the start of his ceremony growing closes, Oz saved that watch to ask about later, only for the event to be interrupted by a group of rogue individuals wearing the red robes of the Baskerville cult. The words they spoke as he was cast into Abyss would haunt him:

Your very sin is your existence.

When Oz awakened in the Abyss, he found himself attacked by gruesome monsters called Chains, only to be saved by a peculiar stranger. Though she appeared as a human girl, she had all the strength of a powerful Chain. She called herself Alice. The other Chains called her the Bloody Black Rabbit.

She convinced Oz that by forming a Contract, they could escape together. And so they did.

But when he returned to the real world, it wasn't quite the one he knew. 10 years had passed in the blink of an eye. His childhood best friend was all grown up now, working for an organization called Pandora that researched and investigated matters of the Abyss. And unless Oz agreed to work with them, he would be arrested as an Illegal Contractor and Alice killed as a Chain.

Luckily, his motivations happened to align with Pandora's, and so Xerxes Break suggested that they could use each other.

Alice wanted to find her memories. The voice of the great hero Jack Vessalius inside his own soul was telling Oz to help her, to chase those memories at all costs.

And so, this is where the Story begins.

[fluffypinkhedgehog]

❀⊱Pouty Werehog⊰❀ ⤷ Sonic the Werehog x Reader | sfw, one-shot

synopsis: Things didn't really go to plan. (Not like there was much of one.)

warnings: not beta-read! bad grammar and typos galore!

a/n: There's seriously not a lot of werehog content in general. Like three others for Sonic and one for Shadow. I cri. Also, this is an excuse to practice writing for Sonic, so it's probably a "bit" (very) OOC.

Sonic slammed his fists down with a grunt, the Dark Gaian Guardian to the Shamar temple easily dodging out of the way. You and Chip watched from the sidelines of the arena, close enough to jump in if need be— though, against Sonic's wishes. Your face contorted with worry as you watched Sonic try again and again to defeat the guardian only for it to spring back up after mere moments of it being down.

You watched as Sonic threw one of the summoned Dark Gaia monsters into the guardian, only for the guardian to get back up with not a scratch on him— bar the monster it heaved off of itself. With renewed vigor, and a tired Sonic, the guardian mimicked our hero, throwing one of the monsters at Sonic.

“Sonic!!” Both you and Chip yelled as Sonic was slammed across the arena. The guardian slowly stalked towards one of the many boxes littered across the arena before starting to push it. That's when it clicked in your head: The way to defeat the Dark Gaian Guardian is to play its game. You jump from your seat without a word, hopping down into the arena.

“Aaah?! What are you doing?!” asked chip as he fluttered behind you.

”That guardian guy is pushing the blocks to that side of the arena,” you said, pointing towards the guardian. “If he's going that way with these boxes, then we have to go this way. Help me push!” With a nervous nod from Chip the two of you start pushing the box. You wouldn't think it would be that heavy, going by its looks, but you guess it's made of stone for a reason. Even with Chip's help, which isn't much if you're being honest, you're barely moving the box inch by inch. Sweat starts dripping down your face as you work your muscles as hard as you can to move the blasted thing, only to get interrupted by a screech above you, halting your progress. You and Chip look upwards to see one of the Dark Gaian monsters mere inches from you face.

Chip screams, catching Sonic's attention. His eyes widen in both surprise and fear. The two of you were supposed to stay in the audience! What are you doing?! With a stretch of his arm, Sonic punches the monster off of the box before racing over to the two of you.

“I thought I told you to stay in the stands!” Sonic barked, grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you up onto his shoulder.

“Sonic!” You exclaimed. “This guy wont go down just like any other enemy,” you try to explain, but he's not having it.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Sonic huffed, dashing back towards the auditorium. “I need you to stay here while I wear him down.”

“But he's just going to keep coming back—”

“You promised you'd stay out of the way!” Sonic spat, shutting you up.

You stared at Sonic in surprise. You knew that his emotions were more wild when he's in this state, but when he lashes out towards you, you can't help but feel hurt. Sonic breathed deep before letting it out in a huff.

“Stay here,” he said before dashing back off, punching the guardian off of the box he was pushing.

You huffed, eyebrows furrowing. Chip looked at you in concern, knowing what you were about to pull.

“Hey, maybe we should—”

“I'm going back down there,” you said, cutting Chip off. You jumped back down into the arena, gunning towards the nearest box and pushing it with all of your might. Chip anxiously looked around. Sonic was in the throws of his battle with the Dark Gaian Guardian, leaving it up to him to make sure you were okay. Thus, he followed you. You and Chip navigated the traps with little trouble. Most of the monsters activated them, making it easy to see where they were. Once you reached the end and slotted the box into the glowing area, you heard an inhuman scream. Turning around, you saw what made the scream: the Dark Gaian Guardian. Sonic stood there, confused, before he looked over and saw you and Chip back on the arena floor. His face immediately scrunched up angrily. You cringed, a little guilty. You'll have to explain this later. For now, considering you're an entire arena apart, you motion to the box behind you. Sonic seemed to understand, nodding, before turning his attention to the corrupted temple guardian in front of him, which seemed to be struggling to get up. With a swipe of his claws, Sonic resumed his fight with the guardian, and you—with Chip— bolted for the next box.

Instead of berating you or stopping mid-fight to put you back on the bleachers, Sonic stayed near to keep any Dark Gaian monsters away from both you and Chip, as well as keeping the guardian from reaching his goalpost as well. With the three of you working together it was a breeze to slot in the last two remaining boxes. A final scream from the guardian sounded out, ending when Sonic landed one last blow to the creature. Sonic heaved, his breaths labored with effort. This was the hardest battle against the corrupted temple guardians yet, and he doesn't look forward to the next one.

“We did it!” You exclaimed, excitedly, jumping up and down in celebration with Chip. Sonic looked over at the two of you at the top of platform, the last box slotted behind the two of you. He huffed, flopping down onto the ground. His ears flicked as he heard your delighted footsteps approach. “Sonic!” You huffed, tired from pushing the heavy, stone boxes. “We won!”

“Yeah,” Sonic replied, equally tired. He avoided eye contact with you, staring at the ground instead. Your happy expression fell.

“What's wrong?” You asked. Sonic huffed, almost insulted at the question.

“What's wrong?” He echoed, standing up. “You completely ignored what I told you to do!” Sonic's roar made you step back, slightly afraid. It wasn't like Sonic to get this angry. But, that made you angry yourself.

“Because you were getting beaten out there! I couldn't stand by and just watch you get hurt!”

“I would have handled it.”

“You were fighting for 30 minutes before I stepped in, Sonic. You needed help!”

Sonic grabbed onto your shoulders, his giant hands engulfing your smaller frame. His grip was tight, almost as if he's scared to loose you. “I didn't want you to get hurt!”

You breath hitched at his words. It left you speechless. You watched as Sonic dropped to his knees, his head resting against your abdomen and his grip loosening, sliding down your arms before falling to the ground. “I didn't want to lose… my friend.”

“Sonic,” You said, softly, lifting your hands up to cup his face, forcing him to look up at you. “I know, this journey is dangerous. You didn't even want me to come with you at all. But I came along because I wanted to help. I knew the dangers going in. You gotta respect my decision, Sonic.” You rubbed your thumbs across his face in a soothing motion.

Sonic looked away, a bit embarrassed. He felt guilty for his actions. He knew that this was your decision. You're a grown person, he should let you make your own choices. Heck, it was his own choice to agree to your request to tag along with him. He nods to your words before getting up and turning away, rubbing the back of his head.

“C'mon. Let's get inside and restore the Chaos Emerald.”

“Right!” You said, smiling.

Tag List: @affinitytales

[novelizt]

EXPECTO PATRONUM I ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

GENRE ➺ HOGWARTS AU [slytherin! lockwood x fem! ravenclaw! reader]. rivals to lovers (and a dash of 'everyone knows but them'). fluff and angst.

WC ➺ 13.7k

SYNOPSIS ➺ after a six year rivalry with lockwood, your patronus suddenly matches his when it didn't before.

DISCLAIMER ➺ reader is implied to be shorter than lockwood. appearance of harry potter next gen characters and a few ocs. lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'my dearest vexation'. prefect! lockwood. (i also headcanon him being a cunning-flirt, so lockwood might read slightly ooc.)

WARNINGS ➺ strained family dynamics (for reader), love potions (misuse of magic), dragons on the loose, wizard duels, and a lot of unpolished dialogue.

NOTES ➺ it's been a long time coming. i hope this finds you when you need it 💙 happy nanowrimo !!

this was originally a one-shot that got split in two. please read part two after this to see their happily ever after 💙

For every Gryffindor came a Slytherin waiting to trouble them. You thought you were in the clear after you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw four years ago. So, you questioned how you had the misfortune of being vexed by a serpent such as Anthony Lockwood.

He boasted the status of being the sole muggle-born Slythern in your year, as well as a colossal thorn in your side. He made it routine to test you. You knew his M.O. well enough to recognize the sound of his footsteps before he even reached you.

"We're learning advanced protective charms in Defence today," he announced like you didn't speed through the syllabus already.

You didn't have to look at him to know he was sporting that lilted smile of his. If you were in a bitter mood, you might have even slung a hex at him.

Luckily for him, you just wanted to get through the day. You quickened your steps. He followed like a parasite.

He even had the gall to bend at the knees to be at eye-level with you, the right side of his mouth curved higher than his left. "Come on, sweetheart. Not even a nod of acknowledgement?"

"If it will get you to leave me be..."

You granted his request and even offered a stiff nod, hoping that would suffice.

You hoped too much because all he did was grin and return to his regularly scheduled goading by matching your stride.

"Away with you," you shooed.

You threw your arm out, aiming for his shoulder. He caught your hand before it even made contact—giving your knuckle a quick tap just to aggravate you.

"I know that trick, sweetheart." He unfurled fingers from yours, slow and deliberate. "Let me walk you, at least. I am a gentleman. Oh– Don't make that face. I really am!"

"If you are such a gentleman, you'd pay attention to my request and leave."

"Suddenly, I'm a barbarian." He shot you a wink that made you wish the floor would swallow you whole. "I could do much worse, you know. Have you heard of oobleck—the stuff muggles are raving about? Bet you'd have a jolly time finding out how to get a non-Newtonian fluid out of your hair."

He feigned a yawn, dropping an arm over your shoulders and giving your arm a subtle squeeze to drive home the fact that he had no intentions of letting you go.

"Arse," was your gracious response.

"Oh, don't be like that. If you are going to play that game, I do have a divine rump. So do you," he said without missing a beat. He played a fool to your slack jaw and widened eyes. "And would you look at that! We've arrived to your classroom. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

If only looks could kill.

Your systems stalled when he dipped his head and planted an ever-cheeky kiss on your temple.

It was futile to throw out a fist to dent that pretty face of his, because he caught your hand before you could even land a hit.

"Cheeky," Lockwood crooned. He tapped your nose before letting you go. You made a show of flicking off the invisible mites he gave you. "Nice try though, sweetheart."

"You—" When you tried to stomp on his foot, he veered out of the way, finessed as a Chesire.

At that point, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. You lifted your chin and crossed the threshold into Potions, ignoring the exorbitant waves and kissy faces he made at you.

Your classmates levelled you with looks of intrigue but you ignored them, too.

Of course, Lockwood had to have the last word. "Remember not to mix up your asphodel and lavender. Wouldn't want another smokey incident, would we? You basically handed me that perfect score."

You tried not to shrivel when a ripple of giggles disrupted the stillness of the classroom.

You threw a nasty look over your shoulder and turned sour when he left, his laugh echoing down the hall. You estimated that he'd be a few minutes late to his class, even if he had to run to make it. Poor chap.

Finally, you were rid of him, but the newly realised smell in the room replaced his slot as your morning vexation. The smell of old parchment, clipped grass, and (much to your bereavement) the Lockwood Stench viscerally assaulted your senses.

You blanched, falling into your seat. "Heavens, did he leave his perfume in here? It smells awful."

As if seeing his face wasn't bad enough, he managed to be the subject of your irritation even if he was absent from the room.

James Potter II, your seatmate and friend, laughed. Eyes crinkling like he knew something you didn't. "He, meaning Anthony Lockwood?"

Your lip curled at the name. Even while preoccupied by your review notes, the smell clouded you. Your attempts to wave away the stench only made it stronger.

It wasn't the worst smell in the wizarding world but you'd rather go through the only class you don't share with him without the incessant thought of him. A huff left you as you came to peace with the fact that your nose would lose its sense eventually.

James's most devious grin stretched across his face. "That's Amortentia over there."

Your breath caught. He jutted a finger at the cauldron that sat at the end of your two-seater desk.

Surely enough, the brew had a pearlescent sheen with curls of peach smoke spiralling into the air, infecting the room with its fragrance. Now that you'd been made aware, your ribs felt too right for your lungs.

Your laugh came out stiff. You coughed, hoping it sutured the cracks in your façade. "I was mistaken then. I only smell the Quidditch Pitch."

James hummed, unconvinced.

—

Time passed slower when you were dying to forget the incident at Potions. Your eyes kept jumping to your watch before the middle of the day had even passed.

Classes had come and gone, and a certainly foul smell clung to the walls of this classroom—as was always the case for Defence Against the Dark Arts. For a moment, you missed smelling the amortentia, then jolted at what other thing that implied.

You knew class started when your peers fell silent, listening attentively on tipped toes. It was every man for himself on days the tables and chairs were pushed to the side of the room.

"On this fine day, we are covering a very tricky, but very utilised charm." The Professor circled the room, inspecting posture and wand grip as she passed.

For a moment, her eyes fell on you, and you stiffened under her gaze. Her lip quirked, like she found comfort in scaring you.

You were made aware that she was a rival of your grandmother's, back in their heyday. You surmised that because she couldn't get one up on your grandmother, she transposed her efforts onto the next best thing: You, and she wasn't afraid to show it.

Her heels clicked, grating your ears as she went on to terrorise a few more unfortunate souls in the way. The vast majority were daft to her impartiality.

She went on a lecture about the charm's importance in the Battle at Hogwarts. You were about to doze off when she slapped her wand against her palm. "Now that the lot of you are in your fourth year, I feel that it is important to know how to cast it in light of grave circumstances."

She waved her wand and muttered a few words before a silvery line jumped from her wand, spinning in the air and illuminating the room before taking on the shape of a rabbit.

The silvery manifestation hopped along with great speed, passing you briskly and making you stumble.

A hand caught your arm before you hit the floor. You were quick to retrieve yourself when you realised that it was Lockwood. You tuned out his mild laugh as you turned away without thanks.

The patronus then skidded to a halt at James's side, speaking in the Professor's voice. "I expect you to know this, Mr. Potter."

It dispersed and a vicious applause shook the room. Even you found yourself wide-eyed in exhilaration. Fighting the fact that the professor was rude, the patronus charm was something you'd been dying to learn way back when.

In the midst of the celebration, your eyes caught Lockwood's, only to find him already staring. There was a pinching sensation in your gut. It forced you to look away. You missed his smile completely.

The Professor ordered the class to break into pairs. Lockwood glued himself to your side before you could blink. He was shooing people away before you could even shoo him away.

"She's got a nasty temper, that one. Wouldn't want her patronus to lunge at you."

"I will have it bite your head off," you murmured, watching a nice Hufflepuff back away. Thus, leaving you alone with the bane of your existence.

"You're too nice for that," Lockwood replied, tapping your side with a half-smile.

"You just said I have a temper."

"With me, yes. But I can handle you."

You had a lot to say about that. The Professor spoke before you could.

"Now," Professor mused. Her voice bounced off the walls in higher vibration. "Using the instructions in your books, attempt to cast your patronus. Remember! The lighter the memory, the more efficient the patronus."

A chorus of turning pages echoed. You and Lockwood withdrew your wands, already knowing which spell to use.

His lips quirked. "Did some advanced reading, did you?"

"You know me so well."

You shook in anticipation, but, after shortly regarding your partner, you refrained from looking too eager.

"Dunderheads first," you urged with false cheer.

The insult flew over Lockwood's head. "Gladly. I like to think my patronus would be a lion."

You couldn't help but snort. "I assume yours would be a housecat with a lot of overgrown hair."

"That would be you."

You had an inkling that he found joy in watching you frown.

After a long while and a generous amount of griping, his wand moved, and he muttered, "Expecto patronum."

A silvery burst of light exploded from his wand. Wisps spun in the air before the dust settled, revealing a crane. It stretched, showcasing several inches of its incandescent neck and wingspan before Lockwood waved his wand once more. The motion sent it in a circle around the room.

It was so majestic, you couldn't pry your eyes away. Other students stared in envy as the crane weaved past other patronuses, nipping at them playfully before soaring back to you.

Wait, not to you... At you.

You found your feet, ready to duck before the silvery bird crashed into you, but it never did. It dispersed before it even touched a hair on your head.

It was an explosion of silver sand. It brushed your cheek with unexpected warmth. The cold seeped into your robes as the darkness veiled you.

"Shame." Lockwood clicked his tongue. "Thought I could freak you out a bit. I couldn't hold it for too long, though."

"Truly a shame," you simpered.

Professor's applause rang out from the other side of the room. Likely for Lockwood's expert execution or his taunting you. Mayhaps both.

"Good work, Mr. Lockwood! Keep practising and your patronus could glide over the Atlantic one day."

"Hear that?" He brightened at the compliment, standing taller as he leaned toward you. "It's your turn, dunderhead."

The number of hexes you could have used . . . You didn't need them. You needed happy thoughts to conjure up a patronus. It was hard enough standing in the same room as Lockwood and Professor Loathes-Your-Guts.

Your inspirations were of holidays and golden scores; your parents' approval; Lockwood falling on his face during Quidditch (your lips twitched at the memory); and the muggle fantasy novels you hid in your room.

A warm feeling shot down your arm, heartening you to mutter the enchantment. The feeling wrapped around your body like a blanket, and when you opened your eyes, your own patronus stared back at you.

It stood metres above the rest, towering over students and patronuses alike. Wisps of silver waved to and fro its body. The only apt description for it was 'colossal'.

"Is that a giraffe?" Lockwood muttered.

"No, It's a pelican." You smiled at his frown. "Of course, it's a giraffe, Lockwood."

You'd never seen one so pretty.

It glowed so bright that Lockwood looked blue in its light. He spared you a look of resignation.

You win.

A swell of pride came to the surface before the patronus wilted away. The space it stood turned black.

Hollers rung out, shaking the bricked walls. A new wave of excitement seized the room. You didn't even glance at the Professor but you could feel her heated gaze on the back of your head. That was victory enough.

—

Three years following that day, you're harrowed by the thought of leaving this place behind. Hogwarts felt like home, more so than the one you shared with your parents.

It was difficult to imagine life without the sky above the dining tables or the constant presence of Prefects scolding lower years.

Soon, your rivalry with Lockwood would fade to the black, too. As far as you knew, the fool was gunning to be an auror. Becoming one yourself wasn't a path you were inclined to take.

You passed the hourglasses of House Points and watched as more trickled into Slytherin's glass, and you felt nothing. The fact that you came to peace with having less points should have been concerning. Your mother would scorn you if she ever caught you thinking that way.

Not wanting to linger, you turned for the dining hall.

You didn't flinch when a weight fell over your shoulders and Lockwood's pretty face invaded your periphery. You should have known he couldn't leave you alone for too long.

"Lockwood."

He grinned. "My dearest vexation."

Your nose scrunched, irritation injected with the smallest feeling of familiarity. "Don't call me that."

"Copy that," He smiled, dragging you closer by the arm around your shoulders. "sweetheart."

It was a lost cause to correct the priss.

"I thought you would've matured by now. Disappointing, really."

"I could be mature, or I could point out the fact that we have fifty points above Ravenclaw."

"I don't mind."

He stalled, and you stopped with him. You didn't really have a choice when he had you under his wing.

He searched your eyes, bewildered. Unsettled, even. "What's on with you?"

You tried to shrug him off but he held fast, fingers practically melded to your arm. "I'm fine, thank you very much. I just don't see the point of upholding this... this–" What was this? You didn't finish the thought before swaying the conversation elsewhere. "We're graduating this year. Might as well set an example for the first-years."

"Our squabbles make it fun for them." On the brink of being offended, he insisted, "They have plenty of examples as is. Kat Godwin sucks the life out of everything, George is best friends with Moaning Myrtle, and Lucy is off talking to the illusive Gray Lady."

You groaned. "That isn't the point."

You made an attempt to shove him, but he caught your hand.

"You have got to start thinking of better ways to express yourself other than hitting or shoving. You should know I always see it coming."

"I can express myself just fine," you respired, yanking your hand away. "But do go ahead. Indulge me. What, pray tell, does that make us?"

Lockwood flourished his free hand as he spoke. "We are 'the arch rivals who makes their problem everyone's problem'. The lower years adore it!"

"Do they?"

In time for your asking, a group of second-years waved at Lockwood, and then to you. He waved back whilst you offered them a terse smile.

One of the girls elbowed her friend. As whispery as her tone was, everyone still heard her. "See? Told you they suit each other."

"They are a couple. Of course, they do," the friend replied.

"Not a couple," you corrected swiftly.

They scurried faster. Before they left the hall, one yelled out, "Just kiss already!"

Despite his matching flush, Lockwood turned to you with a cheeky grin. "You heard them. Let us kiss." He advanced, lips puckered.

You blocked the way with your palm, spreading your fingers until you could push his head back by his forehead. "Yeah– No."

You pried yourself free from his grip to sit with your friends. He didn't fight it, but you weren't surprised that he shouted after you. "But I was right! We have to give the audience what they want!"

"Mr. Lockwood!" Professor McGonagall stood to reprimand him.

You turned away to hide a laugh.

—

The day was lovely. The previous day's rain left a dewy haze in its wake. It was chilly but not cold, and the sun and clouds looked remarkably friendly that morning.

Even then, you didn't know what it was. Your stomach churned for a reason unseen. In the stillness, you could hear a pin drop. You could hear yourself think for once.

Not long after the nagging feeling arrived, you came to the horrific conclusion that Lockwood's absence felt off-putting. You were walking to potions class alone, for the first time in years.

There was no Anthony Lockwood galloping behind you, throwing his arm around you and messing up your hair when you shrug him off. There was no warning as to what your class would be covering that day or a passive-aggressive jab about the most recent Quidditch match.

And, bizarrely, you missed the chaos. You shuddered as the thought struck you.

You held your books tighter and quickened your pace to get to class. When you arrived at Potions, Lockwood-less, your classmates stood to verify the emptiness of the doorway for themselves. Even they were puzzled.

James cocked a brow as you sat and laid out your items without a noise. "Where's lover boy?"

"Using his brain and finally leaving me alone," you responded, wincing at the hint of exasperation in your tone. You didn't mean to sound so dejected, and you definitely didn't intend to slam your things on your desk either. There's a lot of things you didn't intend to do today and 'mentioning Lockwood' was now at the top of that list.

"Mhm," James leaned back in his seat, eyeing you warily. "You don't look too happy."

"I stayed up late doing that essay about counter-potions," you reasoned, having a hard time getting the words out.

James looked pained when you mentioned it. Seconds later, you stifled a laugh when he admitted to forgetting all about that assignment.

Contrary to what you'd promised yourself, Lockwood remained in the back of your mind the entire period.

—

When had Anthony Lockwood ever been interested in Oriana Cai?

That's the first question that popped into your head as you watched him kneel before her with a bouquet of the reddest roses you'd ever seen.

The display was so unexpected, it knocked the air out of your lungs. Your jaw fell slack. James had to pick it up off the ground before you came back to your senses.

In that time, Oriana squealed and clapped, throwing herself forward and strangling the bane-of-your-existence in a hug he enjoyed a little too much. The flowers ended up discarded on the floor.

You had more sense than to gawk. Your chest constricted when Lockwood didn't even acknowledge you as you passed. You shook off the feeling along with the sense of dread you felt from earlier.

His affairs were none of your business, yet, you found yourself thinking about it when you didn't intend to. It's a stake to the heart that his scheduled banter and crude comments were put on hold for whatever that was.

Lockwood had forsaken his seat across from you in favour of sitting with Oriana and her clique. They laughed all through lunch break, his teeth on display, stuck in an unmoving smile.

He looks like a clown, you thought as you skewered a floret of broccoli onto your fork.

You glanced at the professors' table to see if they'd caught onto Lockwood's bizarre behaviour, but they were daft to it.

To any normal person, Lockwood was being a silly boy with a crush. To you, it was abnormal.

Lockwood didn't have the balls to be that forward. How could you say that without sounding obsessed with him?

"If you stare any longer, you might actually burn a hole through his head." James nudged your side and you returned it with a harder shove. "Woah! Cool down, smarty pants. I'm on your side here. I'm just saying, glaring daggers at him won't do much."

"He's being odd," you whispered petulantly.

"I know!" James set his elbow on the table. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Me? Why would I do anything?"

Your eyes landed on Lockwood again. You sucked your teeth before looking away.

James snapped his fingers, forcing you to look up as he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "That. That's why you would do something."

"I don't meddle in Lockwood's affairs. He can do whatever he wants," you said tersely. "If he's so immersed in his romantic life, I might as well get ahead and score more points for my house."

"It bothers you, doesn't it?"

"No." Another unfortunate vegetable faced the wrath of your fork. James flinched. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest."

"If you need me to help, just give me a bell." James vacated his seat, gave your shoulder a firm pat, then went off to check on his cousins, praying none of them caught whatever Lockwood's got.

You stewed in your own thoughts before you gave into temptation and looked at Lockwood for the last time. For lunch, at least.

He blinked rapidly, like there were stars stuck in his eyes. The distorted look on his face dissipated when Oriana popped a wad of gum into his mouth. He chewed and chewed until the colour returned to his face. Redder than before.

You tried to shovel your conspiracies down with your lunch. You even chewed slower to put your focus elsewhere, but you couldn't shake off the dread that roiled in the recess of your mind.

—

"I can extend my essay by three paragraphs," you said to Lockwood in the library, attempting to coax him out of his stupor. "I'd beat your record."

"Yeah." He sighed, daydreaming. He hadn't written anything in his scroll. His competitive spirit died somewhere between his confession and now.

You slid into the seat across from him and waved in his face. He looked right through you, staring at the wall. When you followed his gaze, your expression fell flat.

He wasn't staring at the wall, he was staring at Oriana Cai, again. She wiggled her fingers at him, giggling behind her hand.

The moment she saw you, she didn't even attempt to hide her disdain. Suddenly, the library felt colder than before. For the first time in forever, you couldn't find the right words to explain it.

—

You watched Lockwood's change of behaviour with a scrutinising eye. You managed to pick up on a few things that changed.

First, he was infatuated with Oriana Cai. You caught them snogging the other day and you had to hold your breath to keep your lunch down. So much for decorum.

Second, he'd lost all interest in everything other than his girlfriend. He hadn't mentioned Quidditch in the past week, and he didn't have a modicum of concern for his plummeting scores. It was a scenario you never thought possible.

Lastly, Lockwood had a newly acquired addiction to bubblegum. Not just any type of gum. It was Bombarda of Flavour: Berry Kiss.

With a bit of research, you discovered that BOF was a brand run by Oriana's family. Any sane person would assume that Lockwood was an avid fan of his girlfriend's family business, but you were everything but sane.

When you presented the facts to James, he continued to chew on his liquorice. "And? Where is this going?"

"The sweets are infused with Amortentia," you concluded.

James stopped, stared at his liquorice with distrust, then threw it into a bin. "How can you be so sure?"

"Cai's family runs a gum business. Lockwood's been acting weird since he started chewing the gum Cai brought him. It can't be simple coincidence."

"So, not only are you accusing Cai of spiking gum with amortentia, but her family of being an accessory to misuse of magic as well?"

"They've got to be aware of what she's doing, at least! And they're not stopping her, are they? They're just as guilty," you said fervently.

"Fine," James relented. "How are we going to prove that and save your guy?"

"He's not my guy."

"Sure."

You cleared your throat before sitting down. "We need to steal from the potions classroom."

"You are... insane."

There was a bated silence that followed. You raised your brows at him.

He cracked a smile. "I'm in."

—

Potters had a speciality for breaking rules. You came to that conclusion after James, Albus (James's younger brother), and Scorpius Malfoy managed to steal the ingredients you needed without being caught. They looked quite proud of themselves too.

You wasted no time laying out your theory scrolls and recipe book.

"What's she doing?" Albus asked.

"Saving Lockwood," James answered as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I knew something was wrong with him," Scorpius rasped. "Knew something was up with them too."

You silenced him and ordered James to escort the boys back to their dorm. They didn't go without a fight, but James was experienced enough to wrangle them away.

—

"Lockwood—"

He passed you without a second glance.

Your heart flatlined, but you fought against the feeling and recalled why you were there. You steeled your resolve.

With shining eyes and pulled shoulders, you pivoted and captured his arm. The indifference in his eyes was an arrow passing straight through you.

You had to swallow the lump in your throat to find your voice. "Could you try this for me?"

There was no readily available remedy for amortentia, leaving one with the mere hope that its effects diminish over time. The problem was that Oriana Cai had a continuous supply of bewitching gums intentionally keeping him under her enchantment.

You used all your potions knowledge to concoct a solution that would—cross your fingers—work. It was blended into a scrumptious looking cookie thanks to the expertise of culinary enthusiast, George Karim.

You were worried that he wouldn't even give it a try, but he took the package from your hands.

"Thanks."

He walked away without a second thought. It tore your heart in two, but he accepted the cookie! You raised your arms in triumph, stopping short when he tossed the cookie and its cute wrapper out of the nearest window.

Your excitement plummeted along with it.

—

You took a chapter out of Lockwood's book and persevered. He no longer competed with you to answer the professors' questions, but you took every chance to goad him into a debate. All for naught. He barely did anything anymore.

You tried to cure him several more times with the same anti-Amortentia solution. Three times to be exact: ice cream, soup, and—your most desperate attempt yet—gum.

In the end, he'd throw them all away.

All he would put in his mouth was anything Cai spoon-fed him. It made you want to throttle him.

Lockwood was a capable wizard, and the witch had reduced him to something short of being a man-baby.

On your worst days, you'd reluctantly admitted to missing the banter. Even his annoying grin; the one that rose higher on the right side. The same one that had eluded you since the beginning of term.

The seasons changed. Oriana Cai still had Anthony Lockwood under her thumb.

You melted into the velvet blue couch, sighing to the starlit window of Ravenclaw turret. Even the sheer beauty of the common rooms did little to console you.

You draped your arm over your eyes. "Who knew things were this boring without that pest?"

James, who wasn't even supposed to be allowed into the tower, grasped his chest. "Ouch. What of the rest of us?"

"Rowena!" shouted George. You jumped when he slammed his book shut. "I thought your raving about your books was bad enough. Just tell him you miss him already,"

He was done with you sneaking James in to concoct whatever else you were thinking up. He had lost the plot. At that point, even he was versed in anti-amortentia theory.

"She doesn't miss him," James sighed, bored. "apparently."

"I don't," you said promptly. "Karim, you should be more concerned. Your friend is being spelled into being a muppet."

"I am concerned," George retorted hotly. "But I am so sick of staying up 'till Merlin knows when to find out what you're going to spin into a dish next. I can't even study in peace!"

"We're not that bad, are we?" Looking for backup, you propped your chin over the back of the couch, shooting your most precious smile at your youngsters, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Lorcan shook his head, and Lysander nodded his.

"It's a draw," James chuckled.

Frustration poured from George. "Can you please just find somewhere else to scheme? I want to study and not hear 'Lockwood' every bloody second."

"Fine." You hugged your pile of recipe pages to your chest. "We'll go somewhere we're appreciated."

"Oh, please. Don't go too far. The end of the world doesn't actually exist," George nipped.

James snorted, amused.

You closed the door behind you, finally giving Ravenclaw Tower some much deserved silence.

—

Another crumpled up piece of paper rolled on the rim of the bin before unceremoniously falling out.

You knew your onions, but this was getting tedious. After wasting hours relishing in the staleness of your coffee and the soreness of your fingers, you were just about ready to throw in the towel.

James had left you a bit ago, something about helping Lucy with setting up the flying lesson for the first-years.

They were probably done with it by then and you were still there, trying to brainstorm a method that would knock some sense back into the tosser you called a rival.

About a metre of wasted scroll and dried ink were the results of your efforts. Even then, you didn't reach a plausible solution to your problem.

When you succumbed to your headache and glanced at the clock, the lateness kickstarted your bloodstream. When you stood, you swayed from the dark spots that danced in your vision.

You didn't allow yourself to stay in a haze for too long. You had already missed two and a half classes by the time you broke out of your reverie.

The halls were all empty. You were bound to be in trouble.

You were a punctual student, an excellent student. You were miffed that all it took for you to slip was the absence of a boy. Pathetic. Then again... The boy was what made winning fun.

Your brisk walk quickened to a jog, dreading the inevitability of explaining your tardiness.

"Sweetheart?"

You paused, opening your ears.

Silence.

You scoffed and picked up your stride. Then you heard him again, saying your name. It was odd — odd enough for you to realise that it wasn't a figment of your imagination.

His voice was a trap and you submitted to it too easily. You spun back around to trace the voice and stopped short of the bend. Anyone would have stalled at the rare sight of Oriana Cai angry, her nails sinking into Lockwood's cheeks.

Bile rose to your throat.

Lockwood's back was pushed flush against the wall, he was fervently shaking his head like he was shaking the daze out of his system.

"Quiet!" she commanded him. "Darling, I'm only doing this for us."

His hand closed around her wrist but whatever the potion had done to him left him fatigued. "No, my—" He licked his bottom lip, correcting himself. "She's—"

"Not here! How many times am I going to tell you?"

To your relief, she retracted her nails from him. Your heart started back up when she produced a pack of gum.

"You're better off with me, Ant. I love you, not her. She's nothing but a bitter wench who didn't realise what she had until someone took it from her. See how she only looks for you when we're together? She's selfish!"

"You don't understand," he tried to slap the gum from her hand but she was more sober than he was. For the first time in a long time, the right side of his mouth tipped up. It wounded you. "She needs me. She just won't admit it."

Oriana didn't take it well. Her face bursted in shades of red. Her beautiful features twisted into a grizzly scowl. "None of her!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Your hand quivered as you casted, but your magic did what it was meant to. The gum flew from her hand.

Her glowering face turned to you with killer intent.

"You!" She flew at you. Her billowing robes a thing plucked from your worst nightmares.

Your hand flicked instinctively. "Expecto patronum!"

She shrieked. Your silvery protector crashing against her face.

None of you saw what form it took, but the burst of silver straight into her eyes stunned her long enough for you to run around her and take Lockwood by the arm. His hands quivered; less from adrenaline, more from pure exhaustion. You could almost feel his pulse under your palm.

You coaxed him to muster his strength. "Come on, you barbarian. We need to get help."

The chuckle he let out was pathetic, but it's familiar enough to make you crack a smile. There's your Lockwood after all. He wasn't all gone.

"Knew you'd save me," he rasped. You held him tighter when he stumbled. He held on with what strength he could muster. "You always do."

Not the time to disarm you with a statement like that. An angry stupefy soared overhead, quickly followed by what you assumed was the cruciatus curse. You grunted when an angry zap nicked your side.

You held onto Lockwood and he held onto you, both clattering down the longest steps of your lives. An inspired, deranged girl at your heels.

"Give me my boyfriend back!" She shrieked, casting a fury of spells at you. The echo of the halls amplified her bellows. "He's mine! I earned him!"

He tripped on a lifted tile, leaning on you as you rushed for the landing.

Your heartbeat made it's way to your ears. Every breath felt forced. You pushed ahead, dragging Lockwood's weight down every winding twist in the moving steps.

A very explosive bombarda forced you to stagger back and reconsider your escape route. Only, there was no escape route. The changing stairwells had you and Lockwood trapped on a landing.

Oriana descended like an angel made from her own delusions.

Your lungs struggled to take in air with an unbearable stitch in your aide. Lockwood collapsed to his knees, drained of energy. As his eyes fought to stay open, he clung to your hand like it was his lifeline.

You shifted to hide his crumpled form from Cai.

"You've had your chance, Scarecrow." Cai laughed, on the brink of tears. In her eyes, she was as innocent as a girl who simply had something swiped from her. "He was at your knees for years! Why can't you let him be happy with me? Give him to me, please..."

Your jaw tensed. The lick of anger in your chest stoked to a fire the longer she spoke.

"He's not an object," you managed without spitting flames. "He can feel what he wants, when he wants. If he wishes to walk away from me after all this... I wouldn't blame him. But casting a spell on him? That's not love, Cai. It isn't love. You're trapping him."

Cai's nose flared. "What a saint! Sorry, should I let him grieve something he never had with you? You're blind to not see it. You ruined him! This is the only way. I can help him if you just let me—"

Something moved in your periphery. A mop of black hair, the best wingman in Hogwarts.

You were on the verge of a smile, feeling your adrenaline decrescendo. "Your family, they know what you're doing?"

She grinned. "My family supports my decisions. Contrary to yours, I hear. They agree that you're a heartless witch, and a dose of amortentia should fix him for me."

Your breath hitched. Lockwood clenched your hand, bringing you back.

"For your information," your lip twitched. "I'm an Eagle, not a Scarecrow. Get your house representatives right."

You collapsed the moment a barrier surged around her, her screaming muffled by the incantations.

James came down the steps in stride with Professor Flitwick.

"Not 'your guy', huh?" James taunted, crouching beside you. You offered him a tight-lipped smile.

Professor Flitwick fortified his barrier before he addressed you. "Splendid patronus. You're the first to project your voice and have it travel as far as it did. I expected no less from our ace student. As for Ms. Cai..." He looked at her with pinched brows.. He wasn't sure what to do, really. There had never been a situation that drastic before. "She will be penalised accordingly."

The weight on your shoulders lifted, but a new one came just as quick. You straightened your back to support Lockwood's limp weight.

The warmth of his breath fanned your neck, a feeling that made your stomach churn for all the wrong reasons. He still smelt like the berry-flavoured gum that got him into this mess in the first place.

The same mess that had made you miss a few classes for the first time in six years.

With the last of your energy, you raised a trembling hand. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Are we considered tardy?"

He pushed his glasses higher up his nose before replying. "That should be the least of your troubles, you." Professor Flitwick turned to your friend. "James Potter?"

James saluted. "I've got them, prof."

"Please refrain from calling me 'prof', Mr Potter."

"Yes, prof."

—

Madame Pomfrey had a lot to say about the unforthcoming mess that was Lockwood, post-Amortentia.

For the better part of the appointment, Madame Pomfrey concluded that Lockwood wasn't severely altered by the prolonged exposure to love potion. For the worse part, he was advised to sit out of anything too physically demanding until he felt like himself again.

"But how can I feel like myself without Quidditch?" he agonised, as if you beheld all the answers.

You were forced to hear it, seeing as you were roommates until Madame Pomfrey declared you both stable enough to go free.

You buried yourself into the stiff pillows of the medical ward. "A week of rest and observation isn't as bad as the months you were bewitched, honestly."

"Pray, how can it be worse?"

You lifted your head. "Ever read out a lengthy love poem in the middle of the dining hall?"

"No..."

Your lips tipped up. "Yes."

He shut his eyes and splayed his hand over his head, trying to wash out the visualisation of actually doing that for all of Hogwarts to see.

"End me," he rasped.

"If you insist," your smile stretched. "You recited one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every. Single. Day."

He slapped another hand over his face. "Oh... what have I done to deserve this?"

"Caught the eye of a loony, apparently. It was horrid. I felt sorry for you."

"Don't patronise me."

You jerked a finger at him. "I earned the right. I got a nasty laceration in my side for you. Unwillingly, might I add."

His arms fell away, honeyed eyes set on you. "Please, if you were unwilling, you wouldn't have tried so hard to save me."

"If I left you for dead, I would be a monster."

"A very pretty one," he chimed.

"So you can still pull that drivel out of your arse. Good to know we didn't lose you."

"Say what you will." He crossed his arms behind his head, smiling like a jester. "I know you have a place for me in that shrivelled, darkened heart of yours."

"My heart isn't shrivelled or darkened," you said defiantly.

He quirked a brow, smirking. "You correct that but not the fact that I have a place in it?"

"You—" You opted to chuck your emptied juice carton at him.

In classic Lockwood fashion, he caught the carton in his hand and waved it triumphantly. "Try again, sweetheart. I know your habits like I know the back of my hand."

You raised a not-so-friendly finger and slid your curtain to hide yourself from his view. Still, you heard his laughter, loud and alive.

You weren't aware of how much you'd missed it until you caught yourself smiling.

—

Anthony Lockwood was the kind of child who would climb up the slide. Not because it was fun, but because he liked the thrill of breaking the rules.

Some things never changed, because he had convinced you to accompany him on a night fly while Madame Pomfrey was off collecting herbs from the green house.

You had flown through the worst weather while playing Quidditch, but it struck you that you'd never been out this late. Not one-on-one with Lockwood, at least.

It was a terrible, unsafe idea, but he had a way with words. He made it seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity. You weren't sure whether that was true, since he did use his prefect status to sneak into places he wasn't allowed into.

You knew that turning around was crossed off your list the moment he broke into the closet and extracted your broom for you.

"I have a hard time believing you've never done this before," you whispered as you took in the sight of the Quidditch Pitch, void of life and light.

It was a haunting sight, but Lockwood had been right about it being a once in a lifetime scene. The moon was the only guiding light, drowning everything in a seductive mauve colour. It brought out the beauty of sparse light and silhouettes, you almost believed you stepped into one of your fantasy novels.

He flashed his teeth at you before he vaulted over the partition and traipsed across the grass. His trusty broom already levitating by his side. "I've never done this with you before, if that's what you're asking."

It wasn't, but you didn't want to know who else would join Lockwood in his idiocy.

You followed suit and mounted your broom, allowing yourself to rise several metres to feel the bite of the nocturnal chill.

"It's an amazing feeling, isn't it?" Lockwood shouted, his two feet still on the ground.

"I'm not going to admit that I enjoy breaking the rules," you responded, flying modest circles while taking in the scene.

While the wind whistled in your ears and tousled your hair, he wheeled a box out of storage and flipped the latches.

You squinted, trying to see what he was doing but his back was covering the contents of the box.

"What's that?"

A golden streak of light veered away from him. Even as the breeze bellowed in your ear, you could hear its tinkling wings.

The Snitch.

"Can't have fun without a challenge," Lockwood said. His boisterous laughter echoed in your ears as he hopped onto his broom and zoomed up, up, and up, already chasing the golden menace.

He passed you, his robes grazing your elbow. You didn't think twice. You gave chase, following the direction you had seen the Snitch blitz to.

Lockwood's curls fought against velocity. You were almost tempted to comment on it before you saw a glimmer in the corner of your eye.

You and Lockwood swerved at the same time. Waves of black, blue, and green flagged through darkness as you bent forward, urging your trusty broom to overtake Lockwood's. You were closing in on the Snitch, stretching your hand to reach for it.

It's buzzing crescendoed in your ears, forcing your blood to pump as Lockwood did the same.

Oh, so close.

The Snitch brushed your fingertips before it zagged. Spinning in the air before rushing right at you.

You bent your body, narrowly missing a Snitch to the nose. The same couldn't be said for Lockwood.

You heard the thump of the collision before you saw him clutching his mouth. It was futile for you to hold in a laugh.

"You alright?"

His glare only made you laugh harder.

"Ouch," he hissed, taking his hand away from his mouth.

You snorted after seeing the damage.

Luckily, nothing was broken, but there was a faint pink smudge across his bottom lip and cheek.

You raised a brow. "You wear lipstick?"

"It's lip balm," he said haughtily, wiping away the smudge. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," You held a laugh long enough to reach across to wipe the smidge he couldn't quite swipe away. He stiffened at your touch. You did your best to hold in a reaction of your own. "I just didn't expect you to be a lip balm sort of guy."

"Do I look like a lipstick guy?" he inquired, regaining himself. "Thank you for thinking so, but you can keep your pigmented cosmetics to yourself. They look better on you anyway."

"Complimenting me now? You're sure your noggin's alright, chap?"

"Don't 'chap' me, sweetheart. It makes me feel old."

"I thought you liked the seniority," you taunted. "'Being in seventh-year means the youngest look up to us' and all. Your words, not mine."

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

You gasped, clutching your chest. "How can you say that when the moon is out?"

"Oh, bother." He bristled. "You've shown greater concern for the moon's feelings than you have mine for the past six years. You wound me."

"That's because the moon listens. You never do," you pointed out.

"I do," he replied. "Only for things that matter."

"So, the camel-llama debate didn't matter?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "You're still on that?"

"I always will be. What muggle can't tell those animals apart? You should be ashamed."

"We were eleven!"

"Old enough for you to have admitted defeat, but no! You kept getting them wrong and saying you were right." He pinched his nose as you went on. "Then you started bothering me because you couldn't admit defeat. Now look at us. Six years later and I'm still right."

His eyes met yours, creased with an impending smile. "When we passed the hourglasses, Slytherin was ten points above Ravenclaw."

"You prat—"

Your head was thrown sideways as a flit of gold smashed into you. Your lip pulsed. Luckily, you had the mind to stretch your hand and catch the golden bugger.

The Snitch fought in your grip. Eventually, its wings tucked in. Then, a bated silence. Only for a moment. Lockwood snorted as you massage your jaw.

You gave him a nasty glare. "Not a word."

"I wasn't going to say anything," he lied. "Except, your lipstick smeared."

"Rowena..."

"Here, let me."

He sported a boyish grin as he reached across, mirroring your actions from earlier. You swatted him away and he simply laughed in response.

—

With your feet on the grass, you were glad to be done with your excursion; More relieved that he let you take the win.

You're not sure a bleeding lip was worth it though, but, at least, it was over.

After packing up the Snitch and putting away your brooms (plus making it seem like you two had never been there at all), you started the walk back up to the castle's medical ward.

Somewhere on the cobblestone path, Lockwood had drawn a curious notebook and quill from his robes. "So," he flipped to a page that had been sectioned into two, scored by stick lines. "What have I missed while I was bewitched?"

You eyed the notebook. "Is that... a tally?"

"Yes," he replied. "Now, what did I miss? I had one up on you before my memories went hazy."

"Just start a new one," you urged him.

Thinking of what you achieved while he was out of it was in the same league as winning a race against a slug. There was no fulfilment.

"C'mon," Lockwood cajoled, stepping closer to you. "I've been tallying since fourth year."

You raised a brow. "Fourth year?"

"The class on the Patronus charm inspired me," he replied. "Since we're always butting heads, having a tally made it feel official."

"How do I know you haven't picked your wins and excluded mine?"

"Have you no faith in me?"

"Do you want a real answer?"

He pursed his lips, earning a laugh from you.

"I respect you, you know. Even if you are the way you are," he told you, turning the notebook to show you the tally.

The first column was his score. The second one beheld 'vexation' instead of your name. The scores were neck-and-neck, save for the singular tick on his side that put him in the lead.

He quickly drew one more stick under your column, putting you two at a draw once more. "I'll count this impromptu Quidditch match, on the condition that you won't tell a soul that it was me who snuck out first."

"You must be dedicated," you chortled. "Just count from here on out. I haven't done much, honestly."

He quirked a brow, speaking slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why are you talking like that?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised." He closed the notebook and pocketed it with his quill. "You're usually more competitive."

"That's when I don’t spend an afternoon running for my life, Lockwood."

"You make a fair point."

You were making your way into the thresh of the castle now. The torches warmed the air, thawing the chill as you flounced forth.

There was a peace in the silence and a sweetness in the solitude. You felt Lockwood's hand brush yours and found that you enjoyed it more than you thought. Not that you would say anything about it.

You're not sure whether he caught on to the lilt of your lips before he threw his arm over your shoulders, just like old times.

This time, it felt different. The heat he let off was a juxtaposition to the bite of the night, and you found yourself melting into him even more.

You would have been fine in the quiet, but Lockwood had never been friends with it.

"George told me you were scheming to cure me. How were you planning to do that exactly?"

He kicked a pebble out of your way. You withheld the urge to smile.

"It was an amplified version of a regular love potion reversal. Same one we did research work on last year."

"What did you change?"

"Thrice the dose of rosemary and dried salamander. I also added a touch of pig tongue."

"Wouldn't doubling the wormroot do the same thing?"

"No," you scoffed. "That would expel the fragrance, but it wouldn't counteract the effects of the love potion."

"Doesn't the dried salamander do that?"

"Rosemary thins out the viscosity of the love potion and the dried salamander washes down the magic that messes with your thought process."

He smiled but there was no commitment in it. "Apologies, I'm no love potion whiz."

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling me crushed jasmine will cure insanity."

"I get it, sweetheart. That doesn't explain the pig tongue."

"I was hoping the horrid taste would wake you up from your delusions."

"I think it would have worked."

"It would have," you boasted, "if you had any sense in you to try."

He chuckled, apologising in smiles. Lockwood closed the distance by ruffling your hair. You waved him away, but that did little to stop him.

"You got the higher mark on that research paper," he recalled.

"I did." You glowed with pride. "As is always the case for Potions, and Transfiguration, and Charms—"

"What are you planning to do when we're done with Hogwarts?"

His expression turned dire, like he had been agonising over when to ask the fated question. It might have been a trick of the light, but his eyes glazed.

You considered his question for a moment. "I'm expanding into healing magic." Just envisioning how far your knowledge could go brought a smile to your face. "I'm good at the cardinal subjects for healing. I enjoy them enough to see myself heading in that direction."

"That's serious," he said, genuinely taken by your answer. "You have to be recommended by a professor to take on a role at a hospital or ward, don't you?"

You tried to keep your smile humble. "I already have a recommendation."

He tilted his head so you could see the surprise on his face. "Really? Who?"

"Madame Pomfrey. I'll be her apprentice next year. Hopefully, I'll move to St. Mungo's in a few years."

"Funny," he jested, bumping your hip with his. "What would she say to the bludgers you've batted at me?"

"Your insults about me are tantamount to nothing in her eyes. She adores me."

"Because you're a kiss-up?"

You stopped, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Because I have wit."

His lips lilted into that smile you knew so well. The right of his mouth rose higher than the left, short of turning into a smirk. "You have a lot more than wit, sweetheart."

Your heart did unspeakable things. For a heart-stalling moment, you forgot to say something back.

You looked at him, he looked at you. He was closer than you'd thought. Lockwood was unfairly dashing in torch light. Windswept hair, sweat on his brow, and everything.

He seemed to drift closer and closer, but it's you who inched forward. The lesser the distance, the more honest you felt.

His eyes dipped to your lips and—

A shriek, high and shrill, broke the spell. Both you and Lockwood leapt apart. You dusted off your cloak and he rubbed his nape.

The shrieking voice returned. "Dragon!"

Dragon?

You lurched for the entrance. You couldn't see much in the mouth of the castle. Neither could Lockwood, but you felt it. The buzz before the chase, the stacking of adrenaline and the thrill of trouble creeping up on you.

Your eyes locked with his, and you knew you're thinking the same thing.

When the winds of a Romanian Longhorn flattened the trees and blew out the torches, it was the flag at the beginning of a race. You and Lockwood were running for it.

—

You found that sprinting in the dark was akin to swimming upstream. You'd tripped over several roots and rocks, and you still haven't found which pocket you hid your wand in. It was a humbling experience, being in the throes of losing something with extension charms in your robes.

After furiously tapping himself down, Lockwood found his. He flicked his wand and yelled into the air, "Accio Brooms!"

"Why didn't we do that earlier?"

Lockwood flashed a smile. "We have an excuse to destroy the storage room door now."

You were on the verge of yelling. "How would we explain why we're out here?"

"Don't think too hard, you'll hurt yourself." He made another gesture with his wand before a glow illuminated from the tip of it — lighting up the path. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, sweetheart. We have a dragon to catch."

As the Lumos rose in intensity, the path turned treacherous. The cobbled walkway was turning into pointed stones and angry branches. The trees began to move, contorting into all sorts of grotesque shapes and snares.

Lockwood had taken the lead, taking the brunt of their greedy clutches. You had to grab the back of his robe to make sure he didn't get snatched away by the foliage.

You would have buckled at the wooden stakes that bent toward you if your brooms hadn't snapped through their grappling, snapping inferior splinters before you found your grip.

The uptake was sharp, desperate to get away from the furious trees. You clung to your broom and swallowed down the urge to retch.

Lockwood, who had levelled beside you, looked fine. You would have thrown a rock at him if you weren't turning green.

He set a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles as he surveyed the area. You appreciated the gesture.

"It's heading for the Quidditch Pitch. If we get there fast enough, we can trap it there. Easier to manage in a controlled area."

"It's a dragon, Lockwood. It would burn the place down." You straighten up ever so slightly. "On top of that, it's a Romanian Longhorn."

"I know. Endangered species. We'll have to be cautious. She could turn us into a kebab." His lips tilted into a smile. "I wager we can tame her in less than an hour."

You exhaled the last of your nausea. A grin forming on your face. "Think half."

"Ambitious, aren't we?"

You flew forward, seeing the whiskers of fire curling in the distance. "Scared, serpent boy?"

There were flames in his eyes as he sped ahead, robes soaring behind him. "Never!"

—

"You distract her. I stun her," Lockwood prompted as soon as the Quidditch Pitch came into view.

Metres above you, the Longhorn huffed plumes of smoke down on you. You tried to be quiet, but you did have qualms with Lockwood's plan.

"You're the faster flyer, why am I the distraction?"

He pointed at his chest, like that was the answer. "I'm still recovering."

"That's rich!" You still haven't found your wand and the tosser was playing sick. "You dragged me out here to fly thirty minutes ago. Don't give me that."

"What? I can't hear you!" He veered further from you. "You're the most capable witch of our age. There is no one else I'd do this with!"

He was gone from sight before you could bump him off of his broom.

Then again, you'd rather die fighting than die a sitting duck. You angled your broom up, zooming into the beast's sight before it spotted Lockwood.

Its breath was sulphur against your skin, fighting the chill but lighting a spark of fear. Its pondering yellow eyes circled on you before its mouth creaked open.

"Lockwood, work quickly!"

In a dragon chase, one must remember three things: your size advantage, the dragon's breath hurt as much as its fire, and the dragon can and will play dirty.

You were an agile flyer, ducking whenever the strokes of its inner fire hurled for you, but even you had to exercise all of your flyer's knowledge to evade its claws. A swipe, a lick of flames, a swipe, another swipe — it was practically toying with you.

The only good thing that came with it playing with its food was the fact that you had lured it right where you wanted it.

The Quidditch Pitch was gargantuan compared to the juvenile specimen. You just hoped the place wouldn't go up in flames.

You hadn't seen Lockwood in a good minute, almost believing he'd shirked you, but then you glimpsed a flicker of serpent green in your periphery and ease up.

Before long, the dragon grew tired of the play and decided that she wanted to sink her teeth into something real.

You felt a nip at the end of your broom and zagged in the air. You steadied your mount before feeling your blood rush faster.

She was snapping at you. You chanced a glance and found the black in her eyes flattened to slits, hunger dancing in the embers of them.

"Lockwood!" you cried, narrowly dodging an eager claw. "Double time!"

"I found a soft spot! Give me a minute!"

"We don't have that much time," you surmised based on the increased momentum of the beast's strikes.

After a full turn-around to swing her tail at you, you dove. Nose aimed right down to the grass. You didn't even want to look back and see how close she was.

Gravity would be on her side but pulling up now could mean flying right into her furnace of a mouth. You didn't know which gruesome death was the lesser of two evils.

In the distance, you heard Lockwood. "Stupefy!"

The dragon nipped on your broom once more before you felt a tug on your robe. Your grip slipped, your broom flew in the opposite direction. Leaving you to crash and roll into the grass, ignoring the pain of carpet burn as you helped yourself onto your feet.

You didn't get far before your legs collapsed, your whole body weight crashing on your shoulder. You were never the type to go down without a fight. You kept kicking in a desperate attempt to escape the giant.

"Lockwood!"

"Wait for me!"

You felt its breath. Molten and fear-rushing, melting the hair on your legs as you watched your own reflection in its eye.

And then, its head hit the ground and its jaw lulled. Craning open but never snapping, just barely missing your foot as you pulled your limbs towards yourself.

The lines on Lockwood's face were deeper when you laid eyes on him. When he saw that you were alright, his expression flipped like a switch. A smile formed on his face, like you didn't almost lose your life.

He hopped off of his broom and approached.

"I didn't know you could look scared."

"I was almost a dragon's dinner," you spat.

You didn't fight him as he hooked his arms under yours and hauled you up. He kept an arm around you while the feeling returned to your legs.

He chuckled in a way that could make anyone believe he was faultless. "Sorry. It was a bother finding a soft spot. This big girl has pretty solid armour for a juvenile."

"That is the last time I ever follow your instructions. I knew getting mixed up with you was a death sentence."

"Yet," he chirped, brushing off the soot remains of the edges of your hood. "you're standing here, alive."

"I regret trusting you."

"No, you don't." He flourished a hand at the slumbering beast. "Just look at what putting your heads together did."

"It won't stay asleep forever," you whispered.

Just standing there, right at the alcove of its jaw, felt like standing on the tightrope of death. Suffice it to say, you wanted to be elsewhere.

You tasted the sweet, cool air as you replenished the oxygen in your lungs. Annoyance crept in as you realised that, despite your best efforts, you were still heaving. Adrenaline refusing to crest.

You tried to shove Lockwood but he had caught your arm. "Had to wait 'till the last minute, didn't you?" you nipped.

"I just told you, it's not easy to look for a chink in a dragon's scales. Be optimistic. I could have let her take your legs."

"You wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't, but it's nice to imagine that I could be spiteful."

You snorted, trying not to flinch as the beast blinked its bleary eyes at you. "Let's put the big guy to sleep. Whoever takes care of him must be worried."

"She's a lady," Lockwood corrected.

You forced a smile. "My apologies, I didn't have the time to check in the midst of my near-delimbing."

"Easy mistake." He shrugged. "How about we tie up those loose ends?"

"We would've had it done by now if you stopped chattering."

"Last I checked, you were chattering back."

"You—"

The dragon blew out a warm breath, chilling you. You would've crumpled if Lockwood wasn't holding you up.

"Never you mind," you rectified. "You know the Sleeping Trance Charm, don't you?"

He balanced you on one arm, his hold snaking around your waist. With his free hand, he raised his wand at the dragon. "How to Pacify A Dragon 101. Of course, I do."

"Semi-circle motions," you reminded as the giant gold eyes blinked at you.

"I know that already, sweetheart. You know," Lockwood trailed off. His eyes landed on you. You ignore it for the sake of your already racing heart. "We make a pretty good team."

You allowed yourself a smile. "When you're not being insufferable."

"You always think I'm insufferable."

"So, you are self-aware."

"Oh, shut up." He didn't sound like he meant it.

The world must have been pitted against you, because the drowse in the dragon's eyes disappeared before Lockwood could even mutter the spell.

Its jaws widened, and Lockwood pulled you back just before they snapped. Half a foot from taking a chunk out of you and Lockwood.

"That's not good," Lockwood grunted. He accioed his broom closer. By how hard he was pulling you, you assumed he was trying to get you to clamber on as well.

That would be dooming the two of you. Being a singular target was like turning yourselves into a barbeque.

You pushed him away, catching the panic in his eyes for a moment.

You threw your arms out, signalling him away. "Go!"

Lockwood stalled, hand on his broom. "But—"

"Go!"

He mounted reluctantly. Taking off to grab the Longhorn's attention while you were squabbling for your broom.

When you found it, your worst fears were confirmed. The world really did want you dead.

Your broom was snapped clean in two after colliding with the base of the highest hoop. Mourning your trusted companion wasn't an option, because the dragon had spotted you. Its neck craned, rearing like a snake before it struck.

You tapped your pockets, desperate to find your wand. Not in that pocket, not in that one—

At long last, you fished it out of your most unused pocket. You pointed its end at the beast but a flash of green and silver disrupted your vision.

A tug on your arm and the feeling of rising winds brought you to the present. Lockwood had grabbed you and given you a seat on his broom, saving you from a very fiery end. The patch of grass you were standing on was charred to a crisp.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I can feel you shaking." His mouth was at your ear. You shrunk even more to hide from his view.

Your heart lurched as the Romanian Longhorn roared. You leaned closer to Lockwood, feeling the steady lub-dub through his shirt. It sang your anxieties to repose.

"We need a new plan," you told him, trying to keep your mind in one place. "I don't think she'll fall for another one of our two-person schemes."

"We're one broom down, so, how do you suggest we do that?"

You two watched as the Longhorn stretched its wings, kick starting your panic.

Lockwood leaned forward and tapped your leg. "Hold on tight."

Your hands on the broom fastened until your knuckles turned bloodless.

With renewed determination, he said, "We have to try the Sleeping Trance Charm again."

"While it's wide awake?"

"I'm sorry, would you like to ask her to sit and make it easier for us?"

You pinched his arm in response. The gesture was returned with Lockwood twisting his broom to have you two dangling upside down. One hand jutted out and grabbed Lockwood by the cloak.

"Lockwood, you prat!"

"Say sorry."

"You — Gah! Sorry!"

He smirked as he righted the broom.

Given a new perspective, you wheezed. "We have to do something before it burns down the whole pitch."

"We could summon the rest of the brooms," Lockwood suggested.

He flew higher as the Longhorn swiped for your legs.

"That would just make a mess. She can burn them. Then we'd have a bigger mess to clean up, plus a debt to whoever owns those brooms."

"Well..." Lockwood looked down at the dragon. "I could offer a special deal on pens to rack up enough pounds to pay it back."

"Pens?"

"A muggle writing device. Better and cleaner than ink and quill," he quipped. "I sell them to earn a few pounds. Don't give me that disapproving look, I gave you one for your birthday."

You reeled. "That's what it was? I didn't think 'pens' looked like that. They're supposed to be made of metal, no?"

"The archaic ones, yes. Now, there are plastic, ballpoint pens."

"Why are we talking about this? We can be turned into crispy bacon at any second now."

"Sweetheart, it's either we sacrifice the brooms or we turn into bacon, as you so nicely put it."

Your heart lurched. "My mother would kill me if we fell into debt, Lockwood. Thinking about it now, she'd behead me if she finds out about this mess."

He was genuinely perplexed by the fear that laced your voice. "I thought you were from a pureblood family."

"I am!" You trilled, sounding like you needed to prove something. "But things aren't that easy. Things are earned."

"They would understand. This is a life or death situation here!"

"No, I– Just– We can't."

"Okay..." He did his best to calm you down. It didn't help that he could practically feel the dragon's breath at this distance. "We ditch that idea. How's a firework charm?"

"Yes! Good idea."

You readied your wand. Only to stop short as silver-blue figures circled the dragon. It didn't take a genius to spot a patronus, a handful of them. You spotted a silvery cat crash into the dragon's side.

A non-corporeal patronus materialised at your side, speaking with the voice of Professor Flitwick. "Do your best not to use explosives. Her caregiver's orders."

More patronuses rose like shrouds of smoke and magic, disorienting the dragon in the midst of them. Some were fully manifested, some were faint — like they had been casted by a novice.

One look down confirmed your thoughts. Students and teachers alike were casting patronuses to keep you and Lockwood from turning into Dragon Dinner. Others were busy casting a large-scale protego to isolate the creature.

The Romanian Longhorn's only choice was to fly higher and higher. Lockwood followed, strategically hiding behind patronuses as they passed.

"You have your wand?" Lockwood inquired as the air began to thin. Breathing was a task you had to do consciously to stay awake.

"Of course, I do."

"This is our chance," he told you. He poised his wand.

You raised yours, too. "I'll cast a patronus to hide the glow of the Sleeping Trance Charm."

"Here's to hoping we keep all of our limbs."

He eased closer. You readied yourself, going through all of your best memories. You didn't go back to thoughts of your favourite books or your academics—No. Your mind kept circling back to your earlier moments with Lockwood: the sneaking out, the snitch, that moment at the threshold...

Blue sand trickled from the tip of your wand. Kicking up magic that twisted into the form of a crane. Your brows furrowed as you muttered the enchantment again, only for the patronus to stretch its wings and soar towards the dragon.

You threw a glance at Lockwood from over your shoulder. "I told you I would cast the patronus."

"You are," Lockwood quipped. He did a terrible job of hiding his smile, voice pressed like he was using the last of his air to say it. "That's your patronus."

"No, it's yours." Your tone lacked conviction, and substance — seeing as the crane did burst from your wand.

Lockwood chanced a glance at you, giving you a glimpse of that smirky smile that you'd recognize even in another life. "Have something you need to tell me, sweetheart?"

"Piss off," you said. You pulled his cheek forward, forcing him to face the winds of the dragon he was supposed to be charming. "Focus on what you have to do!"

"We'll get back to this."

He aimed at the dragon and muttered, "Dormitus."

Its eyes were locked on your patronus, following its path, unaware of its eyelids drooping and its waving wings slowing.

Slowly, the dragon began to lose altitude. Closer and closer to the ground as students and professors scuttled out of the way.

The winds dissipated as it laid its scaled head on the grass, finally quelled.

You expelled a breath you were holding in. Lockwood did the same, you felt his chest flush against your back as he laxed.

Lockwood landed a ways away and dismounted first, helping you off but never actually letting you go. Your connected hands dropped between you as you both took the time to calm your heartbeats.

A deranged laugh slipped from your lips. "If you weren't such a danger magnet, you'd have a promising future as an auror."

He looked at you, a confusing mix of disbelief and hope on his face. "You mean that?"

You shrugged with a lipped smile. Not even his habit of looking at the floor could hide his smile from you. You could see it clearly as the sun rose higher.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the furious shuffling of boots on grass. You raised your heads and spotted the unmistakable figures of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Hagrid.

"There you are." Lockwood said charmingly, casting a smile to match. "We were just about to come and ask what we should do about this—"

McGonagall called you both by name. Even you flinched at her vehemence.

"Why, I never!" She looked between you, clear aggravation carved into the lines of her face. "In all my years, I have never seen such a display of recklessness! You could have died. How could we ever explain that to your parents?"

You watched Lockwood's smile widen. A precursor to him saying, "Professor, with all due respect, my parents are dead."

Professor McGonagall was speechless, momentarily at a loss.

You took the chance to fill in the silence. "And I do believe Mr. Harry Potter has done worse."

Her eyes hardened as she wound her cloak tighter around herself. "I apologise for my earlier statement, Mr. Lockwood, but this kind of disobedience and endangerment cannot be tolerated. I expect you both to know where this is leading."

"Cleaning the toilets?" you two said in sync.

"Worse," Professor McGonagall looked quite proud of herself. "Detention."

You and Lockwood sobered.

"Professor, I'm a prefect," Lockwood reasoned. "And still in recovery."

"And I'm your best student," you chipped in. "Certainly, that means something."

McGonagall tipped her chin. "Then you'll be pleased to hear that the pair of you are the first to make it to detention with those accomplishments." Her tone turned frosty. "Friday evening. You know which room. Good day."

You were still reeling when Professor Flitwick motioned to his mouth. "You two should clean yourselves up, lest some misunderstand the smudges on your lips."

Hagrid flashed you two a friendly smile as you and Lockwood disconnected arms to swipe at your lips.

—

Detention didn't last too long. After a good three debates where you and Lockwood vaulted between being friends, being enemies, and being on the brink of committing murder, the kind, ghostly professor in charge let you free for his own sanity.

—

By the time you two returned to your regularly scheduled programming, Cai had been expelled and given a fancy room in St. Mungo's. Lockwood was properly compensated by the BOF company, and the pair of you received an additional fee to assure your silence. You gave your word, but one, James Potter, never made the pact. He reported the happenings to his father and promptly had the company shut down for misuse of magic.

Best wingman, indeed.

In the aurora of a half-realised friendship, you allowed Lockwood to keep his arm on your shoulder as a form of gratitude. He took every chance he got to practise his privilege.

He pulled you closer, practically nuzzling your hair. "You do appreciate me, after all."

"Barely," you replied.

The admission was enough to bring a smile to his face. If you got too soft, he'd assume you transformed into someone else entirely.

Lockwood, himself, had returned to his usual self; disputing you in class, outdoing your word counts, and (a recent development) stealing your quills to replace them with pens. How the professors didn't notice was beyond you.

You missed the banter and the thrill of the competition, but not the dingy smell of the DADA classroom. It was as pungent as always.

"Seventh years." The Professor's tone was different compared to the hundred lessons you've had before this. Dare you say she even sounded melancholic. There's a gaggle of students that laughed about it but she was more lenient, she said nothing to them. "This is your last year in Hogwarts and your last year under my tutelage. This year, we focus on practicality and efficiency. Using your knowledge against another witch or wizard."

She flicked her wand and the crowd parted, pulled in opposite directions by invisible hands.

Gasps rang out, friends clung closer to each other, and you grabbed Lockwood's sleeve when you were shoved aside. His arm dropped to support your weight by the small of your back.

You looked up and he was smiling down at you, the right side of his smile higher than the left. Familiar. Though, he was rather close.

You opened your mouth to complain, only to shudder at the sound of glass breaking. The chandelier above fell, and Professor proceeded to transfigure it into a glass cage of sorts.

She looked pleased with herself as the crystalline cage settled into a dome shape, resting both hands on her wand as she beamed at the parted crowd. "Today, we duel!"

You covered your ears at the sheer volume of your classmates' bellows. Several students looked forward to this day. They could finally let loose and cast spells like they were meant to. The girl to your right bit the end of her wand, looking a lot like a panther ready to lunge.

You grimaced and sent your prayers to Rowena Ravenclaw to save you from the hungry ones.

"Looking forward to it?" Lockwood asked, glueing himself to the spot next to you, chivalrously blocking you from the onslaught of moving bodies.

You could barely see him because the lights have been dimmed to bring all eyes to the duelling cage. You didn't know why you were even searching for his eyes in the first place.

"No," you finally answered. Your eyes landed on the cage, catching the faint veins of blue shift in and out of existence around it. Kind of like the webs of light at the surface of muggle pools. You would have missed them if you weren't squinting. "I aspire to be a healer. This is the type of thing I advise against."

He caught on to the magic, too. "Don't stress too much. The cage is enchanted to snuff out all malignant magic to avoid injury."

"How do you know?"

"That's a large-scale protego charm. Knowing the professor, she tweaked it to limit anyone who goes too far." He nudged your side. You heard the smirk in his tone. "Not bad for an aspiring auror, right?"

"Right," you agreed.

You didn't expect him to sputter. You shushed him when several heads turned your way.

"What was that?"

He patted down his robe, like it would help him collect himself. "That was surprise, sweetheart. I didn't expect you to agree with me."

"Are you suggesting that I'm unnegotiable?"

"No," he answered. "You simply... oppose me most of the time—all of the time."

"You're very easy to oppose. I just pick the choice that has a lower mortality rate. You always seem to be doing dangerous things, Mr. Lockwood."

"I'm Mr. Lockwood now, huh?" That smile again.

"Yes, you are."

"Could you call me that more often?"

His smile made you conscious. You crossed your arms over your chest, like that would protect you. "Why?"

"I like how it sounds," he replied. "I'd do just about anything to hear it again."

"Hm..." Your eyes drifted to the sparks of spells being swished back and forth. The cage turned into a mirrorball. "Win your match."

Lockwood drew himself up to full height, rolling his shoulders back with a confident grin. "Easy."

"Really? Easier than being love-spelled by a fangirl?"

Your stomach turned. That's how you knew you'd said something wrong. Your stance changed. You almost hit yourself for saying something so uncalled for.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but the Professor's voice cut through his.

"Anthony Lockwood and James Potter versus Daria Thomas-Finnigan and..." She dragged the silence on, smirking as she finally uttered your name. Professor Loathes-Your-Guts clearly, still, loathes your guts.

The room divided into two once more; those cheering for Slytherin and Gryffindor, and those cheering for Ravenclaw. The energy could rival that of a Quidditch match.

"May the best team win," was Lockwood's cold farewell. He was gruff and unjesting—a complete departure from his usual visage that it scared you. He had never been so forbidding to you, even as rivals.

He and James entered on the right wing, and you and Daria entered through the left. The circle under you lit up blue. The Professor's magic gripped you, encompassing your whole body.

Lockwood had been right. Professor kept strict tabs on everyone in the cage, and you regretted stepping in when you looked across the way.

Both Lockwood and James were ready to kill. It was an exaggeration, but you'd never seen either look so deathly competitive.

Daria's hand on your shoulder reeled you back to the present. She graced you with a smile. "Gryffindor might have good fighters but we've got something better." You were tempted to say 'female anatomy' but she spoke over your thoughts. "We've got brain."

You drew your shoulders up and gripped your wand fiercely. You faced forward as the Professor yelled, "Start."

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

SWEETHEARTS ➺ @kiyasoup @toddandersondupe @locknco @onecojg @avdiobliss @mentallyillsodapop @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @bella-rose29 @wordsarelife

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[eternity-just-fangirls]

Chapter 5: Star awards Festival

Previous chapter

Did you all enjoy the last bonus chapter? Well be prepared for more Nacht x Astrea moments. Savour them as long as you can.

“So Astrea, who caught your eye?” One of her squad members asked.

“What do you mean?” Astrea replied

“So cute. It’s the first time you got dressed up for the festival without anyone forcing you.”

“Astrea Senpai likes someone?” A rookie asked excitedly.

“I don’t like anyone,” Astrea blushed.

“You are blushing,” Another squad member pointed out.

“Hey, Stop teasing me, all of you,” Astrea’s face turned red as a tomato and she looked away and her eyes caught the man she was so badly hoping to see again. He was looking at a bracelet sadly at one of the stalls in front of her.

Looking at him made Astrea feel like time had frozen around her. Her heart started to beat so loud and fast in her chest that she didn’t  pay attention to her surroundings till she was suddenly pushed towards him. 

She immediately closed her eyes preparing herself for fall, completely caught off guard.

But an arm wrapped around her waist. When she opened her eyes she saw the blue eyes that were so cold and distant yet beautiful. Her cheeks immediately turned red.

“Thank you, vice-captain.” She thanked him as he helped her stand up.

“Nacht.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Nacht. We are not on duty.”

“I see,” She smiled, controlling her urge to start jumping because she finally found out his name.

“Umm…” She turned to look at her squad members but they weren’t there.

Why did they disappear now of all time? Astrea mentally facepalmed.

“So, do you like the festival?” She asked awkwardly.

“It’s bearable. I don’t see what’s the big deal.”

“Wait, is it your first time?”

“Yes.”

“But how? If you are a vice-captain you must have joined long back?”

“I was sent to spy on the Spade kingdom right after I joined.”

His face was stoic but she felt she might have triggered an unpleasant memory.

“Come with me,” She grabbed his arm, “I’ll show you around.”

Before he could say anything she dragged him to different stalls. She occasionally asked him about his likes and dislikes. They soon reached the game stalls.

“Can you win a prize without magic?” She challenged him.

“Whatever” he said walking towards the nearest game, an archery game stall.

Nacht paid for the game and picked up a bow and shot an arrow and it missed. Nacht frowned and shot again and again but they all missed the target.

Astrea giggled “That’s not how you do it,” she stood next to him.

“The stance is wrong. Stand like this” She corrected him

“And” she wrapped her hand around his hand that was holding the bow.

“Now you pull it like this.” She said holding the elbow of the other arm that was holding the string and guided it. “Now aim …..and shoot.”

Nacht shot the arrow and it managed to hit one of the outer circles of the target.

“Not bad”

“Let me guess, is it one of your hobbies?” He asked, turning towards her.

“Used to be.” she smiled bitterly.

“...”

“Never mind, pick a prize.”

“Not interested.”

Astrea ignored what he said and picked a black pocket watch.

“Here this suits you.” She said, giving it to him.

“You helped me. You should keep it.”

“You won it and if you want to repay me, get me something better for christmas.” She laughed softly.

Just then the fireworks started and Astrea looked up, her eyes wide with amazement. 

“So beautiful!” she exclaimed but Nacht was just looking at her.

Yes, so beautiful a thought dashed in the back of his mind.

Author’s note:

This chapter was fun to write. I originally planned Nacht to look at the stars sadly but I felt it was OOC so I changed it to a bracelet that we all can guess what it looks like.

And I planned to have the game to be knife throw that was rigged and Astrea deducts it and threatens the stall owner like Karma does in Asssassination classroom but that felt OOC too so I decided to write the archery scene. It is inspired by a scene in a movie I watched long back and cannot remember its name. The female lead is helped by her love interest in a similar manner. I decided to switch genders because I felt it would be cute. 

While writing the fireworks scene ‘a silent voice’ and ‘orange’ popped in my mind. Watching fireworks are usually dramatic in anime but I wanted to make it simple.

[oc picture in header was made on picrew]

Thank you for reading. If you can please give feedback or let me know your thoughts. I'll appreciate it a lot

Next chapter

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: Saru-mun

PRONOUNS : He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : IMs or Discord. Definitely not tags I am horrible at them and sometimes forget to even read them. Sorry!

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Cyno is the overlord of the blog, with my Sephiroth sideblog as the strongest second. With that said, I have many other muses from other fandoms. Currently they are on a by-request basis, but I might throw them in the dash if the mood strikes!

BEST EXPERIENCE : This is tough because it cannot really be replicated on Tumblr, but group roleplay on FFXI and FFXIV is where my heart is at. I truly miss roleplaying the game story with a colorful cast of friends.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :

- Trivializing my character's challenges. I do not mind writing with powerful characters with all sorts of abilities, but if you go out of your way to make your character effortlessly rid mine of his problems or adversities he's currently facing (such as insta-healing him when he's down for the count), I won't be happy. Make sure your character's actions have a greater purpose than just showing off what he or she can do.

MUSE PREFERENCES: Canon filler. This is the words I use to describe plotting and writing events that can believably fill holes in a muse's canon timeline without contradicting the lore. I also love to write story divergences that may result from canon filler plots! Overall, I am a sucker for going back in time and tell the story of our characters from their childhood and upbringing.

PLOTS OR MEMES : Both~ Memes are great for icebreakers, and often get the juices flowing to plot bigger stuff!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : Both! The length of my replies varies with the pace of the scenes. Combat and arguments are quick paced and will therefore create shorter replies. But if your muse does or says something that will kick mine into deep self-reflection, you can expect a multi-paragraphs post.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : I find that inspiration strikes me best late at night, just before bedtime. Not good for my 9-5 working schedule but what can I do? xD

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : Not much. Some muses have certain aspects in their story that resonate with me personally, but it's never a 100% relatable situation. Experience taught me that the best way to keep IC and OOC separate is to write muses as far removed from yourself as possible, and I try to stay true to that lesson.

Tagged by: @grislyintentions (there ya go you stalker!) @shouga-nai (here it is!)

Tagging: @azure-steel, @soldier-lodbrok, @charlatanry

[ttheagcd]

Do you listen to music whilst writing? If so, what kind of music?

Who are your longest rp friends?

Least favourite thing about roleplaying?

♡ Munday Meme ♡ / nonnie

1 - yes, i do. depends on the mood. if i am vibing i’ll be listening to my taylor owns me playlist which is a playlist of all the songs blondie owns. i listen to a LOT of old school regg.eaton and i end up just vibing and dancing / singing and forget to do my rp stuff lol. i also have an edm playlist i love using which pumps me up. if i’m sad and alex also feels sad, i’m listening to my sad spanish music, it’s great.

2 - @thcrealheroes this bitch della has been one of my bestie, ride or die homie for like almost 8 years now. meet her when she was single and working at apple.bees and now she got 3 kids and could write her own book of horrors from working at apple.bees. we don’t write as much anymore but still follow / yell over on dis.cord and she’ll always be my little spicy me.xican hoe.

@ssolessurvivor / @hstoryhuh / @dearsgcd / @westwingsolo are the longest homies i have made since i started alex. actually i meet britt and A thorough other fandoms.

@poisonedfire is another one, almost 5 years with this babes. the funny thing is i saw them on my dash bc of a mutual and i went to message them like BITCH IS THIS YOU? bc i didn’t know of this blog. i knew of the idea since i had heard about it when it was still an idea but the face claim gave my homie away lmao

3 - where do i begin???? there’s a lot. fucking policing and trying to control who writes what. like if it doesn’t involve you or your muse? do not get involved and let ppl do as they want. this is a hobby not a jobby. blacklist if you have to.

another thing i don’t like is people who godmod and don’t even notice it. i’m all for plotting and a little bit to fill a thread if needed but throwing a whole ass plot without telling me ooc? nah, dude, that ain’t cool because i don’t know how to react to it and neither will alex and the reaction you expected to get will not be met.

i have a lot of things i don’t like about roleplaying since i’ve been on this hell site for like 10 years or so in rp land from fandom to fandom 🙄

[noisymutantherelol]

" Oh Dear........."

(TW:ANGST,GORE,BRATTY EX,A FLUFFY ENDING,TORTURE,OOC,GIRLBOSS YING)

Kaiju An exited the Dream Domain and started heading back home.It was late very late so Kaiju needed to get home before her mother started to worry and as she was walking back home she noticed a weird person following her,at first she thought she was tripping but she wasn't as the guy continued to follow her she made a turn into a alleyway and hid behind a dumpster,the guy walked in and looked around he took off his hood as he started to complain, "Dammit,I lost them.......", he said as he left the alleyway,'WHY IS MY MOMS EX FOLLOWING ME-' ,she thought as she walked out from behind the dumpster and then everything went black the last thing she heard before she passed out was, " Gotcha ".

(Third person POV)

' Everything is dark,I feel limb and i'm really dizzy what happened?'.........then it hit her,' am I being kidnapped!?! ',Kaiju opens her eyes lazily as she looks around and the first person i sees him," good,your awake now you can help me. ", he said as he grabbed a chair, " What do you want.... ",Kaiju glared at him as he sat down on the chair," Important things that requires your magic......and blood but I know you will do those things willingly....wither you like it or not...",Kaiju was filled with rage and decided to use those words Macaque taught her, " YOU F-CKING B-TCH WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TRAPPING THE GUARDIAN OF DREAMS AND THE- ",She was cut off by Dong grabbing her by the neck and choking her almost killing her, " YOUR TITLE MEANS NOTHING TO ME........YOU MAY HAVE STRONG AND POWERFUL FEATS IT'S NOTHING COMPARED TO ME....", he let go of her he looks at her in annoyance,Kaiju was taking multiple deep breaths as she gathered breath for her lungs," You are nothing more than a sheer tool for my fame " he said as he injected a potion into her making her fall asleep. then a certain monkey went to go alert the mother.

{WITH YING}

"When is she coming back......" , Ying said to herself it was 2am and Kaiju hasn't came back yet making dear Ying worried as its been 4 hours straight.... Knock knock Ying freaking dashes for the door hoping it her daughter but opens it to see everyone's favorite hot topic monkey,Macaque," YING-,don't close the door on me........it's about Kaiju ",Ying creaked the door open to see the monkey man and bluntly tells him," tell me everything......."

{BACK TO KAIJU}

she woke up after having a terrible dream of times when her life was crap and got interrupted by Dong harshly grabbing her and throwing her harshly on the floor , "So.........tell me ", he said as he walked towards Kaiju An in her weakened state , " Where is the Medalent? " he asked as he towered over her," I'm....n-not telling you anything you bitch-",that seemed to in rage as he kicked Kaiju in the stomach sending her to crash against the wall, " TELL ME NOW ",He yelled he was slowly losing his composer," No... ", That made him even more mad,He grabbed Kaiju by the tail and threw her against a table breaking it," OW- " ,this continued for 19 minutes straight,he was ruthlessly beating her up,Kaiju An was terribly beat up,sore,bleeding and she had a few scars,she saw Dong walking up to her but then.....SMASH Kaiju An saw flashes of light and dark purple before passing out.

{WITH YING AND MACAQUE}

Ying was choking Dong,her eyes filled with rage she was not about to leave this place without letting him have it,she was punching him relentless of the blood being splattered on her face.Macaque went to retrieve Kaiju Ann and was horrified at her state," oh kid.............. ",he examined all the scars and saw how terribly beat up she was and her ear and right hind leg where in a Terrible conditions," Ying! I got-.......",he saw Ying on her knees with her covered in blood,and Dong beat up and half of his face ripped off he is just lying there bleeding Macaque used his shadow portals to teleport's all three of them back to Ying's House," Ying....Ying? It's gonna be ok... ",he pulled her close to him embracing her,even if she has bloodstained clothes," Kaiju is gonna be alright....... ",Ying pulled away from Macaques hug and went to go find the first aid kit but she used up all the supplies so she went to text Sandy if he could help out

Sandy? yeah? Can you come over? Kaiju An needs help

o Ofc! on my way rn

thanks

(time skip cuz I'm lazy)

" I'm here! "

PT.2 soon.....

@yingjiaoyue

[saffronmidnightparade]

As the sun sets...

Clean up from the previous nights events is short work with everyone chipping in, and most festival goers returned home for a well earned rest. The next day was the final day of the festival, the games and food stalls were open for a tiny bit longer, and soon the festival goers were called to the big stage in the center for the closing ceremonies...

The Organizers take the stage: Rika, Janine, Matsuba, Looker, and the head Ghost themself, DJ Nightshade!

"This was a massive undertaking, and despite the hiccups and bumps in the road, this event went off with flying colors. We set out just to throw a party and celebrate the season, but it seemed the universe had other plans. I want to thank each and every one of our organizers for their tireless work, for without them this event literally would not have happened. We're already planning events, and hope to bring you an even bigger and badder festival next year! That said, from the bottom of our hearts- Thank you for joining us, and may you have safe travels home!"

----

A quick OOC word from our organizers:

"I cannot thank you lot enough for your enthusiasm and unbridled excitement for this event. The scale for this quickly ballooned from humble beginnings because of everyone around me, and I cannot thank them enough for all their incredible work. We sought to bring silly halloween fun to the dash, and I like to think we succeeded. We hope you'll join us next year! Thank you so much!" - Shiro (@monterraverde) , MC and combat scenario lead.

"This program was made possible by viewers like you. Thank you." - Syd (@soul-badge and @earth-master) Banner artist, Festival games and Costume contest lead.

"Happy Halloween, stay scary and have fun!" - Vlad (@cursedmystic), Haunted house creator/lead and Parade designer.

"Thanks for coming along for the ride and stay spooky my friends." - Allie (@specialagent836), Scavenger hunt lead, wellspring of ideas.

"Thanks for partying! 😁🥳" - Cas (@redlegend and @prestochange), Rave lead and DJ.

"Happy Halloween & Feliz Día de los Muertos!" - Ro (@poison-patriarch / @rosemallow-labs) Google Docs and Idea Support.

And once more a great big thank you to @bluesthebest for that wonderful art of the Gourgeist, thank you for allowing me to take inspiration from your art like that and make a whole battle out of it <3

Once more, thank you all for joining us, we hope to see you next year!

[saiyanandproud]

6 and 8, and 25! :0

Munday Mumbling Asks - send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics!

6. Excessive OOC

I must say I only had a few occasions on this blog where I have witnessed excessive OOC behaviours. Also, it's a bit hard to determine what is 'excessive', it's all very subjective, so I will list a few examples that come to mind and could fit the definition.

First of all, I don't mind OOC posting about a mun's worldbuilding, characters, writing approach, headcanons on their muses and so on. If anything, I really like to read about them, they give me a lot more insight on their creative approach and are a big source of inspiration for threads to suggest them! The only excessive aspect I might think of it is when there is A LOT of that and... None of the actual interactions. Aka: it's great to read about all this stuff, my friend, but if you don't actually offer any chance to put this into practice and roleplay with you, it might feel a bit pointless. I had instances of finding very interesting blogs, but once I scrolled through their posts, it was a lot of OOC talking and... None of the writing. Which makes me a bit suspicious about what to expect from it, so I might choose not to followe because I like to keep my dash focussed on RPing as much as possible. The fact that I live in a GMT zone which is different from most of my mutuals makes it challenging to follow dash activity already, so I'd like not to fill it with content that wouldn't be relevant to my hobby here if possible.

Another instance of excessive OOC that comes to my mind (again, according to my perspective), is toxic OOC. We all get salty, it's human, but if every post a person makes OOC is to throw shade and sourness at others / the dash / anything in a constant manner without ever considering dialoguing, my wish to interact with them will plummet. It's not too different from real life stuff -- no one likes to engage with someone who is constantly negative and criticises everyone and everything, and I personally prefer when issues are discussed (and hopefully fixed) rather than casually dropping complaints and never being proactive in making the situation better (and fixing the issue in private where it's due rather than ranting about it publicly). The odd moment of irritation is fine, but if looking back one realises that they are constantly irritated about anything, well, maybe they should consider if it's not a matter of the way they process stuff, and whether it would be worth changing approach. Again, this is just my two cents on the matter.

8. Reblog karma

I am a fan of reblog karma -- in fact, it's in my rules. This is for a couple of reasons: one, I have been treated as a source of memes by certain blogs that followed me but never cared to interact, write, or even reach out, only reblogged the memes I shared and that was it; as I find it quite rude, I usually give it three strikes until I choose to block the blog because of it. Second, which is kinda linked to the former, because RPing, while being a personal hobby, does happen in a community, hence why I think that, as a common effort to keep the fun going and interactions flowing for everyone's amusement, it's a simple matter of kindness to send an ask to the blog we reblog a meme from -- it takes 0 seconds, it fulfills the purpose that meme was reblogged for by the RPing blog in the first moment, and it enhances the possibilities of more people engaging in the meme/game and make it all more enjoyable for everyone.

I completely understand that sometimes you might not have a way/reason to send a certain ask to said mun, not even on anon. But that's why I think that, in this case, is just better to reblog the meme from the source (that's what memes blogs are there for!). I personally prefer to engage as much as possible, but if people don't, reblogging from meme blogs/sources helps them thrive, takes nothing, takes the burden off your shoulders, and doesn't make the other user feel 'used'. Again, a personal opinion.

25. Your character

Oh boy. What to say about Mariko? I can't believe I have been writing her for... Eight years now. It's sweet to say how she has changed in the meantime, and at the same time, how she hasn't changed at all, which makes me both proud and annoyed about her.

Well, let's start with the positive stuff I guess. I am happy that Mariko seems to draw in sympathy from the crowd. I've had a few people telling me she's well written and feels 'alive', which I'm glad to hear (especially considering that I really could treat her in a way more serious way when I write her). I do my best to make her flawed and as imperfect as possible, not becuase of the 'Mary Sue' complex (we all grew past it I think), but mostly because I think flawed characters are the most intriguing ones, and imperfections are great triggers to spike rich threads.

On the other hand, I wish I could write Mariko in a more 'serious' way sometimes. Part of the reason why it doesn't happen is my own selectivity, both in terms of mutuals (not a massive issue here, I consider myself kinda lucky, it's just that simply I need the right muses sometimes), and in terms of story. There are certain narrative knots in Mariko's storyline which I wish could go in a specific way, but I don't want to force anyone on it. Like, the way she finds out she descends from Goku -- it would really challenge her perspective on her life, her predjudices on his historical figure and so much more, and I would like to dedicate it as much time and introspection as possible, but I know this is my need and mine only.

The issue with Mariko is that she isn't born out of a story I had in my mind already; I just wrote down the premises (her life on Earth) but everything about her story from once she arrived in Conton onwards has been litterally shaped by RP interactions. Which has been beautiful, and unexpected, and lots of fun! Some key threads (like the ones with her mentors, with Fu, with Shallot) did a lot to make her grow in Conton, and by accomodating to mutuals turnover and so on, other opportunities to develop her came naturallly -- Mariko's devotion to her mentors, for example. The mutual who wrote both Nappa and Raditz back then is no longer active, which sparked a sense of 'abandonment' in Mariko's character, a nostalgia for her acquired family in Conton, and a need to cling on their figures whenever possible, reflected in later threads with @risingsouls). So yeah, by extension, Mariko's storyline relies a lot on the interactions I get here. Which, while it can be creative and surprising, it can also limit my chances to explore the character because of this approach, based on the availability or people/threads/muses/anything.

Another "issue" (kinda) I have with Mariko is the way she grew. I decided to progressively age her at some point, so each year that passes is a year she gains. Mariko is currently 23 (or 24? Did I update it this last July??), and I might decide to stop at some point, or not. However, not sure if because of her faceclaim appearance, or because of her attitude, or because people first interacted with her when she was younger, I still struggle to make her come across as more mature -- she seems crystallized in a trope that I struggle to free her from, and it can be frustrating because sometimes I feel like it hinders chances of more serious topics and threads involving her. Maybe it's also the way I write her, and the bratty attitude she has at times. Then again, it is really part of her personality, and while she has become more mature over the years, it's hard to picture her without her 'youthful spark' at times. Not sure. Inputs and constructive criticisms are more than welcome, as always.

[grimulf-of-the-wilderness]

SHIPPERS GONNA SHIP -or not

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

what’s your OTP for your muse(s)?

I do not have one and when I created Grim that was the last thing on my mind. Ironically it was ONE of the first questions I was asked too.

I have learned to NOT have high hopes for GrimShips. I think this will be the one and only muse that I have written for that will have many friends and minimal lovers. He's flirt tho' he tries. HA.

what are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

I adore writing romantical threads, fluff, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers with the right writing partner, little bit of angst -not too much. Even friends with benefits I'd be down to write as well. It's lovely when things happen between muses organically but I'm not opposed to pre-plotted ship scenarios but that depends entirely upon the rapport between me and my writing partner.

Also I throw Grim everywhere. I feel like Genshin RP on tumblr is kinda ded or worse anti-hilichurl so Grim is not locked into Genshin-only ships. I toss him into crossovers more often than not.

Not into infidelity, pregnancies, icsts, non-con or age play or cest. I politely pass on the ol' 'my muse is a virgin scenario' too. Grims bio contains more deets for hard passes in his NSFW section if you're reallly curious otherwise just ask me.

how large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

Both muses have to be adults. No minor muses or muns. Period.

Tech Grim is 500+ years old. I picture him being a twenty-something year old when the cataclysm happened and he was cursed. He ages super slow, even his hilichurlian evolvement is stalled. SoooO, hes a grumpy old man!

are you selective when shipping?

Chemistry is crucial on the dash or in the thread.

It's nice when you have a connection between muns BUT I have done ships without that, even though it's a bit more risky and things can flop for one reason or another and you just wasted ALL of your time. I prefer to have a good ooc banter with a partner I'd be down to ship with, it is more comfortable that way and the open line of communication is valuable to have.

IF I am shipping with you/yr muse YOU are not 'bothering me' when you send asks, Dm's, brain dumps about the ship. Or even just chit-chatting about it and proposing what IF situations.

I do prefer a ship with someone who matches my energy, If I'm putting in the effort are they? Am I giving their blog, muse and storyline so much of my attention and they are giving me nothing or worse --> half-assed? That one-sided feeling can sink a ship really fast for me.

The only time I get truly 'selective' or discerning is if I smell the crazy on you. If I see you becoming possessive and like HOARDING my muse away from other writers, or jealous of my muse or someone else's muse, I will shut that shit down fast. I have experienced my share of crazy RP-ers and I can tell you some horror stories.

how far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

Because Grim is what he is the moment he kisses someone it's getting tagged as NSFW.

He's a MONSTER not everyone wants to see him giving some muse the tongue ~

If a conversation veers towards a mature topic it gets tagged.

does one have to ask to ship with you?

Not necessarily. Sometimes it JUST happens on its own.

And you can always ask if you're really curious to know 'would Grim be attracted to my muse?' or 'would Grim be romatical towards my muse?' and I can let you know if there's a shot or if he would be uninterested before you get too far and invested.

how often do you like to ship?

I love shipping but Grim seems to be the collector of friendships so there's that.

0 romantic ships atm.

are you multiship?

Yes, I tend to view ships separately. Each thread is in its own realm. Nothing is connected, unless it's plotted out between ALL muns involved and ngl thats not my fav thing to do There is too much leeway for a disaster to happen.

are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

I would not call myself ship obsessed at this point.

I Dooo love me a good ship and I can become excited for things to bloom. But I think, at this point I am more like connections obsessed for Grim because his blog is so NEW and getting a new RP partner to work with is FAR more thrilling to me at this stage.

what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

One word. CAPITANO. That is all.

--I feel sorry for that one rp partner I work with having to put up with my bs. shhh they prolly will not see this. heh.

finally, how does one ship with you?

Jump in and write with me!

Grim may look intimidating but he's a goofball and has a good heart despite looking like a murder beast. Ask me, chit chat. Break the ice or take a risk and just dive into a thread, see if theres even a good click between our muses beforehand.

Tagged by: i stole it >=]

Tagging: ANYONE who would like to do this. I read @piousolus 's reply and thought to myself ehhhhhh you know what I need to do dis for Grim.

[unladielike]

So since it has been brought to my attention some rumours have been circulating about me, I just wanna make a few things clear.

First off, I did not supposedly stalk anyone's blog for years.

If need be, I can even provide my IP address (aka self-dox myself) to prove any screencaps to be false, but I'm nowhere near obsessive enough to check somebody's blog everyday. Like, sure, I might visit blogs of ex-mutuals every once in a blue moon out of curiosity, but contrary to popular belief, tumblr doesn't take up 90% of my time and at best, I would maybe lurk on COAR to read new confessions or refresh my dash once per day just in case non-active partners of mine have returned.

If anything, my time has been mostly comprised of going to work and grinding mobile gachas; in fact, should I notice I have replies to write, I will log in, throw my replies into the queue/save written replies in my drafts folder to queue later, and then fuck off to do other stuff. Honestly, provided someone has beef with me, it's unlikely I would know why unless my encounter with them on tumblr had been rather recent.

To my knowledge, I haven't harassed anyone off of tumblr.

Now, did I have spats with my own fair share of people over the eight or nine years I have been on this hellsite? Yes. Have I made vague posts about ex-mutuals, unintentionally ghosted others, privately vented to friends about people from the RPC I personally can't stand, and commented on COAR confessions? Also, yes.

But that being said, the only one I've ever sent anon hate to was myself and if I played a part in somebody deactivating their blog or quitting tumblr roleplay altogether, then that's certainly news to me, because I don't like participating in public smear campaigns, to the point where I even avoid name dropping certain users in my rules or PSAs I've made. Heck, the way I see it, I can only ever recall myself being relentlessly harassed/bullied, because when it comes to me for some reason, people on this site sadly don't know how to block and move on like normal people.

I also have never encouraged anyone to delete their blogs or chase them out of the RPC and have only ever reported one person due to the fact they would not stop posting about me/attempt to provoke me into engaging in drama on a site that we both frequent despite having me blocked; therefore, I have no idea where the narrative of me harassing people off of tumblr even comes from. Besides, I'm nowhere near popular enough to influence whatever following I have to dog pile on whoever I have grievances with, let alone have many people who would go to bat for me each time I'm being unfairly criticized. Honestly, the one time someone did call out my harasser, it was something I had no control over and they did so without my permission, to the point where I did privately tell them to stop url-dropping me and engaging with this person on my behalf... because again, I just wanted to be left alone.

Furthermore, I make it very clear to mutuals I've vented to that they don't have to unfollow/block roleplayers I've had bad experiences with... so I'm not sure if this is merely a case of the Mandela Effect rearing it's ugly head, individuals making up bad faith reasons to dislike me, or an issue of mistaken identity (especially since I'm likely not the only one who goes by the mun handle, 'Livi', and it has happened before where somebody had wrongly assumed a blog belonged to another person).

Of course, it's possible I could have forgotten stuff, as I have had more than three blogs over the years, so naturally, I won't remember all the OOC posts I have ever shared, let alone every instance before 2022 where I have been involved in drama... but regardless, I refuse to take accountability for things I have never done unless you personally come to me off anon with screenshots that provide evidence.

[wormholxtreme]

Say nice things about 3 random people you want to write with more and tag them xo spread the love for sure

Let Me Tell You You're Pretty | Always Accepting

@denydefeat I mean I could talk about YOU but I think that might go against the spirit of the ask LOL

@wnterslder I've seen Pat from afar so very much because she follows some of my tumblr babies but I have such a hard time coming up with any plots or ideas that I sit in my corner and watch her on the dash.

She is so wonderful. Just how much positivity she tries to post and how much she interacts with people on the dash. Listen that shit is hard. I try to do it too and I often feel like I'm annoying. But anytime I see her in the replies or likes of my own affiliates it brings me so much joy to see someone out there just doing their best to bring love to their followers. And don't even get me started on the actual writing and musings of Bucky. I just love seeing some of the things Pat has come up with. Definitely worth the follow.

@marvelmyriad listen Nyx is an amazing writer I cannot stress this enough. We've had some chats OOC and she is just the sweetest thing. I would love more time to chat and get to know her and ultimately just find a starting place to write but haven't really gotten around to it yet.

I hope she knows that she is a treasure and I hope she knows that I am down for anything she wants to throw at me. I'm sure we'll get there one day. Life is just busy, but she is just too talented a writer and wonderful a person to merely stay as mutual without writing. Listen I brought in V for you and JJ it's gonna happen one day okay???? I adore you!!

@americasdaughter Tara is so sweet like we've chatted OOC and she made the prettiest wreath christmas icon for my tumblr wife and I just adore it. She also is up in here with an MC2 character that I wanna throw my Kaylee at so bad but I just haven't yet. Look I'm more shy than I seem okay like all this reaching out to people lately has been me actively going against my nature ANYWAY

I just love seeing Tara and Liberty on the dash. I love how easy going and lovely Tara is and one of these days my muses are gonna bust all up in there if that's okay??? Like I just really want to write and chat and plot with you so much but empty head is empty. In any case I really do love that we are mutuals and that we've gotten a chance to talk because you are just the sweetest bean.

[starsmuserainbow]

I'm trying really hard to do less OOC because I feel like I'm doing too much of that lately (though then again, without that, I'll just end up being silent for like weeks days on end when I don't manage to write something? feels worse, really), so, let me just throw some thoughts out all into this one OOC post instead.

I love all my chars so much I much too rarely say that. Currently, that's especially Akari, Starlight, Moonshot and Lightning.

I really wish I could draw better - I feel like I just missed out on internalizing some 'logic/perspectives' part at some point and will just forever be unable to do anything other than direct front view at all. I tried to start a drawing recently, and after trying the face like twice, I gave up because it looked really really bad. Maybe starting with the face is also the wrong point to start at, but it almost always is where I start, idk.

I'm trying to get myself a pc android-emulator to use another social media (starts with i and has a camera as symbol) because for some reason the chats over there have certain forms of shared pictures or whatever not supported when you look at it from a computer, also there's more features that the pc version just doesn't have and it's really frustrating and I don't wanna use my phone for it. Also fun fact: the windows store "app" of that media is the same as if you open the website in your browser (when closing it even said something about edge iirc), none of the app features are there, it's really stupid to even have that in your store if I can just visit it in browser for the exactly same result. Wish I could just somewhere say 'just pretend I'm a tablet or sth' to the website so I wouldn't have to bother looking for a emulator. (And I already tried that mobile website view thingie, that doesn't change anything)

I feel like I'm always just, like, attaching myself to others and getting to experience things through those others, always being only, like, an attachment, some annoying little random person that simply clings too hard to that other person that brought me into thing.

I'm trying to keep up writing again, I really don't want to keep having people wait for like a month or a little more. I managed to do it 2 days in a row now, and have something prepared for tomorrow already too, so maybe I'm on a good progress here. Then again, I also kinda had more free time these last 2 days or so bc I didn't feel so well.

It's just so darn hot. Can we please be done with summer already? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the beachy vibes and stuff for my characters and everything, but in person I just never really at all enjoy summer and I just want to stop melting.

When chats are busy, and I say something (which I rarely do) and no one seems to answer to it, I feel so very much like I'm annoying. It's obviously just a brain thing, and nothing actually true, but man I hate feeling like that. It's usually almost impossible for me to try to say the thing again to try to get someoen to answer to it another time.

I really wanna be more active around the dash again. Liking things, perhaps sending things too (if I can get myself that far) - I feel like many of the ppl I see on my dash regularly I have nothing going with and doubt myself that they're even interested anymore even when we're still mutuals, and a part of me goes "you should just unfollow, clearly they're not interested anymore", but I don't want to give up on even more blogs than I already did somewhat recently (some months ago I unfollowed some I think) and I really have to try to find another way to fix this.

I'm so glad I found a way to access the yellow text color again. It'll be so nice to be able to use that again. And yes, I know that that color still looks weird even on my theme, but that's not my fault. All the other colors when used are on the theme in "npf-class:joey" etc, but for some reason this color never is. I tried to contact support about that before to get those into classes too which would allow me to style them in my theme (I'm doing it with some colors, if you see posts on my theme you see what I mean) so they're better readable, but they didn't understand what I meant and I can't explain it properly. Now that I looked at it again, it seems they fixed it for one of the colors - I think it used to be both red and yellow having that problem, now it looks like red styled properly - so maybe it's just not getting fixed bc they removed yellow from being an available color in the editor. Oh well.

Okay, that's all I can think of for now. Sorry for the long thing.

[malka-lisitsa]

4, 7, 17, 18, 20, 30 <3 kiss kiss kiss

send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics!

4 and 17 here!

7- DNIs in rules: Honestly they don't bother me. I have thought about a DNI in mine once or twice. People hurt people, and it's ok to want to keep them far the fuck away from you. It's ok to tell people about your experience. They're adults they can make their own choices I do not think someone is automatically toxic bc they put someone in their DNI. I don't think it's toxic to tell people when someone has hurt you. Harassment is toxic, anon hate is toxic, DNI's are not toxic. You should be allowed to keep people off your dash and not want to associate with people who associate with them. Like I said the person reading your rules has every opportunity to decide for themselves which way they want to go on that all you did was put up a rule.

18- Shipping: I prefer ships that are deep. Ships with a story. Ships with chemistry. Ships that arent perfect, ships that developed out of nowhere. I never go into ANY interaction expecting a ship with one of my characters unless it's canon and even then it varies how close x character is to the other depending on how the other person plays them. Katherine has her favourite Stefans and then the Stefans she doesnt like quite as much. Same for Elena. Katherine in general is hard to ship lmfao but Elena isn't so I have an easy shipping muse, and a hard mode shipping muse. What I DONT LIKE is people throwing ships together bc the fc's are hot. I mean do what you want to do its your blog but yes I do judge people for that.

20- Violent threads: I love them. I mean Katherine isn't OVERLY violent at all times but she can and she will fucking HURT YOU and I don't get to explore her doing that enough bc most muses arent that fucking stupid.... tho I did have a thread once with @humanchewtoy where Katherine beat the shit out of Stiles and killed him and to this day that is one of my faves. <3

30- my choice, Im gonna go with 29 blocking: I'm gonna get a lot of flack for this too but I don't fucking care.

I fully support curating your space. What I have an issue with, honestly is when you've established an ooc repour with someone, you even are kinda close with them and have a good time- and then just suddenly block them with no explanation. It's fine for randos whatever.... but I think it's incredibly rude and crass to just block someone you actually got to know ooc. That was your friend even if it was a loose term. If they want to know why you blocked them they have a right to know why they suddenly don't have a friend and it is not TOXIC to want to know why someone you really liked suddenly DROPPED YOU.

Now harassing that person to find out IS toxic, but I still maintain it's valid to want to know why someone dropped you suddenly. You don't owe randos anything, no- you do owe your friends the very bare minimum of an explanation even if you block them right after. It's such a dick move to just drop someone you had a friendship with without the curtesy of saying "Hey I'm cutting our friendship bc of X y and z" because people can't fix behaviors they don't fucking know about. It HURTS to be friends with someone and then wake up or sign on wanting to tell them something and suddenly youre blocked and you dont know why. It's anxiety inducing. It does NOTHING for people with abandonment issues.

So don't be a douche. Don't be a coward. If you want to block someone thats fine. You don't owe a rando anything. But you do owe your (ex)friend the minimum decency of an explanation so they dont spend the next week and a half stressing over what they could have possibly done.

[wisponed]

GRIEF IS NOT A FEELING, BUT A NEIGHBORHOOD. THIS IS WHERE I COME FROM --

WISPONED /  independent sonic forces original character rp blog

character information: below the cut

inspiration from: games, idw comics, select shows + movies

written by celeste ( she/they, est, 25+, 10+ years of rp experience )

rules: i have a full-time job so i won't be here 24/7, i can be a little selective bc i like keeping my dash clean and relevant, i don't care if you reblog stuff from me go for it babes, triggering and nsfw content may be explored but nothing explicitly sexual will ever be present, i'm cool with shipping but don't be weird about it + i need to know you and your character fairly well before jumping into anything, let's have fun and not be dicks to each other!

interacting: easiest way to interact with me is through ask memes ( which i LOVE continuing as threads), i'll be going light on the formatting and might not always include icons so if that's not your style i totally get it, i LOVE talking ooc about our characters ( gives me more drive to respond to things, too ) so please ask for my discord

a study in: anger which is easier than grief which is easier than sitting with loss, scars on your palm from claws biting into flesh, lightning as illumination; lightning as power; lightning as discharge without relief, promises writ in blood, cemeteries that are the size of cities, taking the next step, the next breath, the next shot because you are not sure who you are without this mission

can also find me: @greenhillguy ( sonic the hedgehog ) + @windrule ( jet the hawk )

EVERYONE I LOVE STILL LIVES THERE.

ABOUT

scratch the cat is an original character based around the events of sonic forces

i'll be playing scratch in her early/mid 20s, and probably won't be using any icons for her. she is a tortoiseshell cat with brown, orange, and black fur, and yellow eyes

while scratch is not the avatar that you play as in forces, she is from the same city, and was privy to the death and destruction wrought on the city by infinite and eggman

scratch's parents, older brother, and younger sister were killed in the attacks, leaving her nothing and nobody to go back to, so she throws herself into the resistance, taking on risky missions and front-line defense positions

in the beginning of the war, scratch was definitely not focused on making it out alive, instead just trying her best to make any kind of impact against infinite and eggman. as she survives and hardens over the months, so does her anger, and by the time sonic comes back she's become more focused on killing infinite and eggman than protecting the resistance or any of the people who call her their friend

when infinite disappears, it robs scratch of any semblance of closure. she can't accept that he's really gone because she hasn't seen that he's actually dead. it's a similar feeling when the resistance beats eggman, letting him get away, as if he doesn't have to pay for all the hurt, all the pain, all the death he caused

while most citizens were grateful to give back their wispons and join the restoration effort, relieved the war was finally over, scratch only became more restless. she stole her wispon, the ivory lightning wispon, and set off on her own crusade to find and kill both infinite and eggman

scratch has a close relationship with the ivory wisp that resides in her wispon, naming it blitz -- although blitz doesn't seem to condone her revenge plot, it's loyal to her and doesn't want to see her get hurt. blitz has never abandoned her, although sometimes it will choose not to attack or provide it's hyper-go-on energy if it doesn't agree with what she's doing

after the war, scratch broke into old eggman complexes and workshops, hunting for information about infinite and the phantom ruby. she's working on gathering enough intel to figure out not only what happened to infinite but also how to find him and finally take her revenge on him

in terms of plotting against eggman -- i'll probably play around with idw timelines here in regard to the whole mr. tinker and metal virus arcs

anyway.. lots to vibe with in terms of helping scratch along her revenge plot or trying to convince her of another way. she's also extremely reckless and willing to help with missions or tasks others might deem as suicidal, so if there's something stupidly dangerous your character needs to do, you can probably count scratch in to help

[darkmasterzorku]

Rules of the Shadow Game

1:. No godmodding. No automatic relationships. No automatic friendships. Plotting with me about these things is preferred. This is a villain & dark god after all!

2:. Shipping is to be decided through me first. Discussion ooc first is preferred without a doubt on this. Throwing your muse at him for shipping without discussion might bring about some unwanted consequences otherwise.

3:. No drama ooc directed at me or my partners; I will unfollow & or block. Not liking a ship or whatever is not a justifiable reason.

4:. I will not do NSFW of a romantic nature with anyone under the age of 21+, if at all. I am selective with it. Lying to me about your age will get you blocked asap!! I'm over 21. Let's be respectful.

5:. NSFW of romantic nature will be posted under “Read More.” If it happens at all. Probably won't. NSFW pertaining to violence may not be. But I will tag it if I feel it hits the right milestone to do so.

6:. This blog will have dark themes. It goes with the character. Descretion is advised !! Therefore ….

7:. You let your muse approach 'Bakura' AT THEIR OWN RISK. Yes, I'm the writer, but sometimes he has other ideas and refuses to cooperate. If you mess with the dark god, YOU MAY GET THE HORNS.

-Ryo muses or muns preferring the 'host phase' get the biggest warning: 🗡 remember the manga. Mine can be that bad if not worse. We can discuss an alternative if need be. I know Ryo can be a clever boi and figure something out.

Note: If all your blog does is "crack" and ooc posts, I probably will not return the follow. You're still more than welcome to interact, I'm not mutual exclusive, but I prefer actual threads that may go somewhere. This is my personal choice to keep my dash clear for those I actually wish to write with and who want replies and threads so I can focus on that. Especially since Tumblr doesn't always give me notifications.

This way, I can more freely interact with them and not miss their posts. Some crack is okay, but if your blog is clearly just that in majority, it probably won't get a follow. Nothing personal, again, it's just my preference.

Themes that are allowed and likely to occur: blood, torture, murder, manipulation, BDSM, etc. etc along those lines.

Does not allow: Noncon (unless both muns agree to terms and conditions that apply and are of age), scat/piss play, and of course one giant no is for romance with underage characters.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!