#I'm thinking of posting a few snippets of these notes I have taken when I finish season 1. Cause I have some highlights for u all lol

[wiredalienvampire]

he's so itty bitty ^_^

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

Chapter 1: He's got the whole world falling at his feet

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s– didn’t overdo it and kept it true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept– you could just ask our local priest about that one, who often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he’d been pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. 

It was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents would soon retire from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum. 

Which sounds sad speaking about it, but still true, I’d had a real tough go of it back in school. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled throughout the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above. 

The name had mostly started due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company whenever other kids were mulling about. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to deal with it and grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up– because that was how it’d always felt with us– she had constantly had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now. Sometimes if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely when a storm hit, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she would clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long downpour, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. The brass  pavilion would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my father.

And I would just lose myself in it all. 

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it could make a person think and feel. 

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

It was actually Twitter that had eventually led to all of this. 

The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the few users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then one day I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, the very idea that people cared enough to stop and read my thoughts, but it was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades quickly turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So I had ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or this new EP. 

The account had grown rapidly shortly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I had wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, the account I used had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d since dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it further, somewhere bigger, make it into something that people could actually tune into and not just read about. I had taken the consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll soon get into that.

So with it all, I ended up making an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I currently am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d reclaimed it. 

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners apparently admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved. 

Ultimately ended up doing things that other radio presenters were too afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, I had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any of the backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only, a few years had since passed and now it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East London, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain that the city had to offer. 

Anyway, I forced myself to adjust my headset over my right ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the one too many monitors and power cables I had to constantly avoid, and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I silently waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording. 

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically whilst Adi merely shook her head in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track seeing as there was still an awful lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed on into the mic and rubbed my palms together, eyes flitting over the few sheets of paper I had perched before me, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, over on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about? Makes me wonder where he’s finding the time.”

I shook my head briefly at the bulleted point I’d been given and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound. 

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before peering down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, playing up the whole thing as I stared down at a few images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me. 

There were four of them, a quick succession of pictures that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat as soon as I read the headline. “Oh God! It appears Matty Healy is– wait for it!– back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop of my desk and, as stoic as I possibly could, I then added, “A joint!” 

A smug grin slid its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I actually saw an article about how he took his tea this one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah?” I rolled my eyes but relented, “A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, gently clucking my tongue as I shook my head at the so-called news that had made the front page. “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a real time rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But really, how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point in his career, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents amongst the shadows of their fame before he eventually stepped out and made an actual name for himself. Saying that, it still is insane to see how much he’s changed!”

And it was. Healy and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music everywhere, they sold out shows constantly and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes that shone through in all the news and gossip that ran riot.

“But, if I am being truthful.” I went on to say, thumb toying with the page’s sharp edge, “And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap– publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or maybe just him being an idiot, a young lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras consistently on him and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. Isn't it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together that he probably could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians entering the scene. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. Still, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, chewing on my lower lip, “But honestly, I just hope that he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some shut eye, some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

In truth, I really did think that Matty had real talent, that raw kind, and he seemed like a nice enough guy– or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. 

Now though, the man just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I say or do? I'm nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh it all off and only felt a little more at ease when I finally glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, shall we? What was it last week, Ads, those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

--

“Oi, will you two please stop mucking about? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any actual heat, shaking my head as I held back a chuckle, forever amused by the infamous pair stood a way away from me. 

I’d not long since left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby tube station so that she could hop a train home before I had headed on over to Finn’s. It was a typical route for me and not too long of a walk, but since arriving I’d been roped into packing up the many belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was so often seen carrying about.

My gaze skittered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction whilst his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth lift upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever it was the toddler had just said to him, tickling the boy’s sides as he did. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible. 

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal high above everyone else since the day he was born. 

Finn was always free to take Teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head so long as he was around. 

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down low to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily whilst he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was expecting. 

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s advancing hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually the lovely Olivia, Finn’s newest fling– only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really. 

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered mostly to himself before he hurried on over to his desk in the far corner. I could only laugh quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watched on as Finn hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, and somewhat out of breath, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our mirth. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression. 

But with that all done and over with, I simply pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at the two of us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind him, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse

102 @/user2  Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:)

Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up://

Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down. 

Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree??

Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack.. 

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were all fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a small snippet, caught the last of a conversation on it in a cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he had listened. 

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time. 

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket and watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d gone and brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of them little bottles from the minibar before he had decided he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world just fading around him, and the cigarette was suddenly enough.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered on his phone. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a simple second. To stop and just leave him alone for a bit. To have the world let him wallow in the dark dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey?

Carelessly, Matty thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and he breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d been attempting to curate, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. 

He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the repercussions would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway? 

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie? We all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids! Open your ears!

He laughed silently after, thoroughly amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so that he wouldn’t have to look at it again. 

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

[lady-harrowhark]

hello, can you explain to me in more clarity your “waxen” theory regarding Ianthe? I’m not picking up on what this implies but it’s making my brain itch.

Sort of! Totally fair question, I just don't have a lot of clarity myself in that I don't have a fully formed theory lol. There's definitely some links and parallels in verbiage that are pinging on my radar, so I do think something's funky, but I wouldn't say I'm fully on board with this yet. I'm just playing in the sandbox Tamsyn has provided us, tossing out ideas and thinking out loud. But I can go into some more detail, and add some more thoughts that have occurred to me since I posted that last night.

(Here's a link to the post in question, for context)

Anyway! So let's first lay out all the times we get someone described as some type of wax. At various points in HtN, we get the descriptions "a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture," a "wax figure in a pink dolly dress," a "wax figure in pale purple chiffon," and "waxen face" for Ianthe. We also see that descriptor used a few other times for other people throughout the series. In GtN, Harrow's parents' bodies are called "waxy" and the first introduction of Protesilaus (as the beguiling corpse) says he was "waxen looking in the sunlight." In NtN, Kiriona's skin is said to have a "weird, waxy quality," then Naberius's skin is called "waxen" when they first meet up with Ianthe, and again a few pages later it again references the "waxen, handsome face". What I'm getting at here is that every time this sort of description is deployed, it's in reference to a dead body that's been preserved, manipulated, and is essentially masquerading as a living person... except for Ianthe.

We also know there are a multitude of times that she's described as looking like a poor copy of Coronabeth. There's that "shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture" line, her first introduction calls her a "starved shadow" of her sister ("or the first an illuminated reflection [of Ianthe]," and actually, off the top of my head I don't know that we ever see their descriptions framed that way again... I'd have to investigate this more later, but this might be the only time that Corona is described as a "better" version of Ianthe, rather than Ianthe being a "worse" version of Corona, which is interesting), there's a point where it says "The second twin was as though the first had been taken to pieces and put back together without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but on her it was a beautiful shroud on a mummy," etc etc etc. I know there's more, but I'm too lazy to go pull the rest of the quotes and you get the picture by this point I'm sure. So nearly all of these situate her, at least visually, as a copy or approximation of Coronabeth, and one that doesn't quite live up to original at that.

So now let's pick apart this snippet of conversation we overhear between Silas and Ianthe at Magnus and Abigail's dinner party a bit. Ianthe says she was born via "surgical means," which I'm assuming is referring to a C-section delivery (or whatever the necromantic equivalent is) and notes that Corona is a few minutes older. Silas seems surprised (or perhaps concerned?) that they "risked intervention" and Ianthe says Corona had "removed [her] source of oxygen". At this point Silas says, "A wasted opportunity, I'd think." I had always taken this for him just being a dick and implying he wished she'd died in the womb, but coming back to it with this new angle... well. She says "Corona's birth put my survivability somewhere around definite nil." And I'm wondering if that doesn't tie to Harrow's comment about infant deaths generating "enough thanergy to take out the entire planet." Basically, could Silas have been implying that the Tridentarii's parents wasted an opportunity to use the thanergy from baby Ianthe's death to power up Corona?

Harrow says that twins are an ill omen, but the text hasn't come back to that as of yet. Given the difficulty necromancers experience with pregnancy, I'd imagine twins would could be especially dangerous and that in and of itself could be considered an ill omen. Ianthe's comments certainly suggest that their mother carried the pregnancy, although I don't think we know for certain whether she was a necromancer. I am so intensely curious about the Tridentarii's childhood and their parents; we get so many gestures towards some really twisted family dynamics, but very little in the way of concrete explanations. Particularly relevant here, I'd love to know more about their father wanting a "matched set" and how that came about. Did they intentionally plan for twins from the start? Was it only once they knew they were having twins that that became a factor? What's the significance there?

Outside of those "waxy" descriptors, Ianthe tends to be described as much more sickly looking than even other necromancers. We know that necromancers on the whole tend towards a phenotype of physical weakness, but even still, there's an emphasis on this with Ianthe beyond that. This might be due in part to narrator bias (coughGideoncough) or the direct juxtaposition between her and Coronabeth's vivaciousness, but what really jumps out at me as contributing to this effect is how frequently she's described as being colorless, pale, washed out, bloodless, pallid, anemic, etc etc etc. It very much makes me think of the way the color drains away from Colum (and even the rest of the room and the others in it) when Silas is siphoning. Silas himself is also often described as colorless ("mayonnaise uncle," "milk man") but not so much in a way that implies frailty as much as I read it as implying a stark coldness, in line with the very black-and-white moral authority he presumes to wield, a purported "purity", much different than Ianthe's colorlessness. With Ianthe, you get a sense that her palette ought to have been or perhaps was closer to Corona's, but the color's been drained away; where Corona's hair is described as golden, Ianthe's is "canned butter", for example. Almost like the life's been siphoned out, one might say.

So to kind of circle back around, do I actually think Ianthe is dead or a corpse like the other "wax" figures we've seen? Nah. Between Harrow and Palamedes, and especially Palamedes's medical necromancy, I think we would have heard about it by now if that were the case. But I do think it's entirely plausible that she's had a bit of a brush with death and that perhaps she's never quite fully come back from, and I do think she's being intentionally positioned as somewhat adjacent to death. If their parents were wanting twins from the outset, perhaps they used necromantic means to encourage the conception. Or if the pregnancy was as high-risk as I suspect it was, perhaps she'd died or nearly died at birth and been resuscitated. Their parents may have gone to extremes to keep her alive, to maintain their matched set. Given the themes of this series, I do feel it's necessary to draw a distinction between "resuscitation" and "resurrection" although they are curiously adjacent to one another. For all the text has grappled with dying and staying dead, dying and coming back, dying and choosing whether or not to return... we haven't touched on what something like a "near death experience" would look like. I'd imagine having that sort of experience, even at an incredibly young age, might lead one to be fascinated with, to use Ianthe's own words, "the place between death and life... the place between release and disappearance."

[agentplutonium]

Hear me out:

Arranged marriage au David & Sweetheart who are absolutely distraught at the idea of marrying a stranger but willing to do it out of duty but then become friends when they realize they don’t actually have to kiss and also… the other’s personal guard is pretty cute (Milo is David’s guard and Angel is Sweetheart’s vv)

I'm finally getting around to this, be grateful (/j)

No, but seriously, I've been thinking about this strand of AU for so long (as Max can attest because he lives with me and therefore is subject to the horrors of my rambling) and I will take this AU to my grave. Moving on, a small snippet based off of this (with the whispers of this being updated in the future/made into a series).

(small note: Sweetheart will be referred to as Culver for the most part, and David will call them Dear/my Heart for appearances. Angel will be referred to as Red for the most part. Of course, the pairings will use the canon nicknames but I have to stretch a few things.)

Pairing: David & Sweetheart, David/Angel, Milo/Sweetheart (technically, they just aren't prominent atm)

WC: 1355

Rating: Gen.

max is talking about this post.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"I cannot believe this is happening," Culver said, stretching out their back. The horse ride wasn't that far, but they hadn't taken a break yet and it's already been a few hours.

"Cheer up, Culver," Red chirped. "I hear that this king-to-be is very handsome."

"You know I've never been one for looks, Red," Culver said, rolling their eyes.

"I also hear that he's a great leader. In nearly every circumstance you two will be perfect for each other," Red said.

"Or, we'll be at each other's throats because we have different opinions," Culver muttered. "Besides, I don't know him! He could be a complete tyrant for all I know," they continued, back at their normal volume.

"Do you really think your parents would do that to you?" Red asked.

"They would send me to someone they thought that I could "fix"," Culver defended. "You know how they are."

"Aye, I do know how they are," Red caved. "I'm sure it will be fine, either way. You're a lovable person. It'll be easy for him to fall in love."

"I don't want him to fall in love after we're married," Culver said, barely keeping the whine out of their tone. "That's cheating. It isn't genuine, it's a forced proximity thing."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Red sighed. "But I will always be here to support you, your grace, you know that."

Culver relaxed, a small huff escaping their lips, "And I thank you for that, Red. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Red gave them a wink, turning back to the trail in front of them. As they came up to a bend, Red trotted ahead of Culver to ensure that the coast was clear.

Culver still wasn't looking forward to any of this, though.

~~~

"I can't believe this is happening," David muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt. It was hot outside, too hot to be wearing his full regalia.

"I hear that your betrothed is very good at governing," Milo offered, trying to cheer David up.

"Really?"

Milo shrugged, "It's all I have left. You shot down the fact that they're the handsomest person in their kingdom. You shot down the fact that they were beloved by their people. You shooting down this. I don't know what to tell you that will get you excited for this new chapter in your life," Milo said.

"You're not going to. They're a stranger. The only reason I'm going along with it is because it would be stupid to turn down such a powerful alliance."

"Well, the good news is, once the wedding is over, you don't have to interact with them outside of publicity events," Milo offered. "Or, you fall in love with them after the wedding."

"That's superficial," David grumbled. "How do I know if I really love them or if it's just because they're here?"

Milo shrugged. "Only so much I can do, boss," he said.

A guard signalled the arrival of someone at the gate, and before David knew it, two horses were trotting down the path. David took a deep breath.

"Here we go," he muttered.

One thing is for sure, the rumours about their beauty weren't a lie. The royal was very attractive. It didn't make David feel any better about this arrangement. They slipped off the back of their horse, assisted by their knight. They approached, smile on their face. once they were a few feet away, they bowed.

"Your Majesty," they said. David approached as they straightened. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," David said, bending to kiss their hand. "Please, come inside, my dad will be pleased to meet you."

Culver accepted, taking David's outstretched arm, interlinking them. David led them into the castle, followed by the two knights. Culver kept their eyes dutifully forward. David half wondered to himself what their intentions were. Were they excited for this? Did they have any plans? What did they know? How much power were they looking for?

Gabe was in the study, as he knew he would be. He always was here when they were expecting guests. He said that it made people feel more comfortable, and he got better arrangments out of it. It was in this room that it was decided he was to marry this stranger. David wondered just how much good luck it actually brought.

The conversation with his dad went off without a hitch. Culver was a hit with him, making him laugh and smile. His parents loved them. They seemed to know exactly what to say, and knew how to correct their mistakes (which were few and far between). David had no doubt they were a beast in political settings, getting what they wanted in the most efficient way possible.

Eventually, his dad excused himself.

"I should leave you two alone to get to know each other," his father said. "I should check up on your welcome dinner, anyway. Only the best for my son's spouse."

"Dad," David muttered.

"I'll see you two later," Gabe cut him off before leaving.

Culver seemed to deflate the second that the knights closed the door behind him. David was surprised, to say the least.

"Listen," they started, rubbing at their eyes, "I'm sure you're a nice guy, but you have to know."

"Know what?" David asked, shifting in his chair.

Culver took a deep breath. "I don't want to marry you. I never had any interest in marrying you, I just know that this will help my people. That's the only reason I'm here."

David felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank god," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" Culver asked.

"I'm so glad we're on the same page about this," David said. "I admire you being upfront about this."

"What else was I going to do? Lie? I only lie if I need to," Culver said. "It wouldn't benefit me to lie to you now. Especially since I was under the impression you wanted this."

"No, not at all," David said. "I was told that you were the one with the idea, actually."

"You're kidding," Culver said. "Is that what my parents said? No surprise, I guess, but still. Lord, cannot believe they would lie like that."

"So you don't want to get married to me?" David asked.

"Not at all," Sweetheart assured. "I'd much rather be running my own kingdom right about now, but this was the best thing to happen to my kingdom since I was young. This contract will be promising to my people."

David felt a smile creeping across his face. "That's how I feel, as well."

"That... was surprisingly easy," Culver said. "You're really okay with me having no interest in you whatsoever?"

"Absolutely," David said. "So long as you agree to keep up appearances and not fuck over me or my kingdom."

Culver chuckled, and it didn't sound at all like how they laughed before. Was David close to hearing what their real laugh sounded like? "Well, I definitely don't have plans for fucking you over. I'll keep up appearances if it means that I'll have my parents off my back, among other things."

"Well, good," David said, nodding.

There was a knock at the door, and then Milo was poking his head in. "Sir, you're being summoned by your father."

"I'll be right out," David said. "In the meantime, show Culver and their knight to their rooms, please?"

"Right away, sir."

David stood up, holding his hand out to Culver. They took it, standing up themselves. "I will see you at dinner," David said.

"Yes you will," Culver smiled. They were ushered out of the room by their knight.

David followed after a moment, Milo holding the door open. Once he was out, Milo shot him a look before leading the other two down the hall. Culver turned slightly to wave at him, that smile still there.

Perhaps this could work out, David thought, since they were already so in sync. Maybe they could be friends after all of this.

Only time would tell, he guessed.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wips on Wedsdays

He kiddos, it's actually my Wednesday so imma post a few wips. tagging @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @kookaburra1701 @rhiannon1199 @viss-and-pinegar @saltymaplesyrup @rainpebble3 @throughtrialbyfire @rosette-dragonborn @mareenavee @snippetsrus @snowy-weather No pressure, this is all just for funs <3

We got art and a smidgen of writing:

Starting with a close-up of the tat details in the render I'm working on. This redo that isn't purely a redo is coming along well. Just gotta add three more tattoos and alllllllll of his scars. Full art and a writing snippet under the cut.

IDK I think it's going well so far ;) and a snippet from Sleepers Awake chapter 7

Teldryn hated tombs. He hated tombs, the undead, the fucking bleached ash that covered the floor after centuries of recycling the same old fucking urns! He hated the way the tombs would wind like a maze. These halls had turned him around to the point of utter confusion! Teldryn hated having to enter the halls of the Dunmeri dead. It creeped him out, to put it bluntly. He had complained about this assignment, of course. It was the last thing he expected when Cosades sent him to go meet with a Blades informant who studied over at the Balmora Mages Guild. The old sugar-tooth had been vague about what this might entail. Just telling him that the notes he got from his last mission weren’t fucking enough and he had to go bother some mage about a fucking myth! The Nerevarine, how fucking ridiculous! The expectation with these missions seemed to be something along the lines of ‘a favour for a favour’ and the mage he’d been sent to, an orc named Sham gra-Muzgob was asking one hell of a fucking favour! She was after the skull of some poor sod named Llevule Andrano. That meant he had to break into the Andrano Ancestral Tomb out on the Bitter Coast. Shit was pretty much a one-way ticket to an execution if he was caught. When he’d mentioned that, the woman merely replied- “Then don’t upset the natives when you do it.” Cosades had said this would be a ‘silly little errand’. How the fuck is desecrating the remains of a member of a fucking hugely influential family in House Redoran a silly little errand? Then there was the justification gra-Muzgob gave him for all of this shit. Something about his people’s death practices being primitive, superstitious nonsense. Teldryn had held his tongue as best as he could. The last thing he wanted was to be thrown in fucking Fort Moonmoth again. The shit they did there…he was glad they’d only pulled out his toenails. Teldryn sucked in a deep breath, trying his best to calm his nerves as he stepped into what he hoped was the chamber that this skull was being kept in. “Look for the one with the ritual markings,” he murmured under his breath as he pulled down the old, silk scarf he’d taken from Suran. A keepsake he allowed himself amongst the things of his that his mother managed to save after his grandfather had thrown most of his belongings into the fire. Llaro had really tried to erase his existence entirely. He wanted to shake the hand of the guy who killed the miserable old cunt! Teldryn tapped his fingers on the rough chitin of his pauldron as her scanned the small, sand-coloured room. Carved into the earth thousands of years ago, the clay walls were smooth and rounded around the edges. His eyes fell on what looked like a small altar at the lip of a pool of ashes. An enchanted chitin dagger and a skull with something carved into its forehead, Daedric runes by the looks of it. Red pigment coloured the thin grooves in the bone. It made him shudder as he knelt down by the altar and stared into Llevule Andrano’s hollow eye sockets. He wondered if he should say something before he went and just took the thing. He knew that there was some sermon that one would recite when they visited the dead. Something that eased the ancestor’s spirit of some shit like that. He had never actually listened to what was said in those sermons. Never listened to the shit spoken by the temple priests either. Honestly, he found it boring, preferring instead to disappear into his own head whenever they started to rattle on. Shit was way more entertaining…until his mind became the enemy of course. He longed for that simplicity. Shit was folly. Teldryn wracked his brain for something appropriate to say. Sure, he might not have cared much for the Tribunal’s teachings as a kid but fuck if he wasn’t bitterly fucking aware of how wrong this all seemed. Teldryn sighed as he took the skull into his shaking hands, opting to mutter a simple “Sorry,” to the spirit before he pulled his scarf from around his neck and wrapped the skull in it before he carefully placed it into his pack.

[mellancholy-morose]

@puppys-teeth You said you wanted Au's and silly thoughts in this post. I'm finally getting around to responding like I wanted to. I made it it's own post cause it got long and this is basically just gonna be a list of my WIP's with some general information and thoughts with some links to some snippets I've shared previously.

Longfics:

Knowing Spirit Albarn is a Drag Current WC about 14k

This is the current longfic I'm trying working on. Spirit ends up doing drag at chupa cabras, Stein comes looking for Spirit and finds out his secret and is thoroughly amused. Stein keeps coming back cause he finds it entertaining and is trying to understand why Spirit's doing it. But Spirit's double life takes a toll on him.

A few snippets I've posted so far:

Here, Here, Here, and Here

Graves/Fountains (a Wip title) Current WC about 3k (not counting notes that are just dialog spread around my note taking locations)

Stein and Spirit go on a mission and things go wrong, they're both left unable to resonate with anyone, as they're both ignored their problems for so long their souls have gone into what is basically a perpetual state of self defense, so LD puts them both on mandatory leave until they can fix their shit. They end up working at Deathbucks to pay the bills when its been a while with no progress and LD is like 'we can't keep paying you'. They eventually are going to have to go into each others mindscapes and help each other deal with all these things they've buried deep. The wip title is in reference to the imagery in their respective mindscapes.

Pacts Writ in Flesh and Blood Current WC about 27k

A resbang I was unable to finish, as it got a bit too depressing at the time. I will come back to it eventually, but it might yet be awhile. It's present stein/marie and past stein/spirit. It's a supernatural horror au, that started from the idea of Faustian deals, if you know 'the magnus archives' there's also some inspiration taken from there for this one. The promo from resbang will give you a better idea what it's about and has some excerpts:

promo

P.I. AU Currently just notes

More like a very long fic. Its ensemble cast and its scope scares me, it'll probably be a while before I tackle this one, simply cause juggling an ensemble cast this large, and having to make sure the murder mystery makes sense is going to be a lot balls in the air. When it was first conceived it was intended to be Stein/Marie but I'm likely to pivot it slightly to make it still that to and extent but likely end game Stein/Spirit. Idk it's not currently very fleshed out besides some general beats I want to hit with things. Stein is Frank Stone (I think it's hilarious and this choice of mine will never stop amusing me) private investigator who's investigating his buddy Sid's death. also did I mention its the 1920's? cause its the 1920's.

Oneshots:

none of these titles are finalized and are more just ways for me to tell them apart from each other

Carnival Currently just notes

Based off that one ending image of Stein making Spirit puke on the teacups, Spirit is there to chaperone the kids, and asks Stein to come a long. Marie upon learning this implies its a date, which worms its way into Stein's head, leading to something of a disappointing experience when they go.

GD Current WC 2.5k

(I don't want to say the title of this one as it gives away something small that I haven't decided if I want the reader to go into the fic knowing about yet)

Current oneshot I'm working on, after a mission Spirit convinces Stein to visit his parents when he learns they're in the area. It is a bit awkward for all involved but Spirit is learning things about Stein he never knew.

A snippet of this one can be found here and here.

Two fucked up little guys Current WC 1.6K

This one admittedly is almost done, but I haven't felt up for finishing it. Set after Stein and Spirit stopped being partners and after Maka is born, but before the anime. Neither have good coping mechanisms for their stress and end up instinctually reaching out for each others wavelengths, and connect while half way across the city. It's angsty, there's some hurt/comfort but it's not got a happy end coming for it. Though this one is also one that after I post it and people are interested I might end up coming back to and expanding the story on later (and giving it a happier ending most likely)

Misc:

These are things that are minimally fleshed out and tend to be more prompts then actual Wips atm

Gay Pirates:

Spirit used to be steins first mate, now they both have their own crews, and spirit keeps boasting about his getting them into trouble. Maka mutinies her dad stranding him on an island but still kinda feels bad about it so sends Stein a letter addressed as if from Spirit for a duel to the death, and Stein ends up getting stranded on the island with him cause his crew get drove off while he's off board by the navy.

Road Trip:

Been sitting on this one for awhile, but @bcbdrums reminded me it was in my wips by mentioning her own road trip ideas on some posts. I was gonna work on this on the side of my long fic but it grew past oneshot territory and is likely gonna be a medium length fic so it went back on the backburner. It's normal world au and is a last road trip before Stein leaves for med school. But there's gonna be a time skip after the trip to after med school

Verbatim from my notes:

"You've got mail Au but with more dicks and its grindr, cause its 2022 my dude" (can you tell how long these idiots have been plaguing me? The ideas and wips are constantly stacking up)

Theater kids au:

Stein is a teacher, Spirit is parent who wont fucking go home

Some Stein/Spirit/Marie poly thing

Doesn't have much to it currently besides my thoughts about similarities between Marie and Spirit

Incubus Au

Likely to be a longish fic, Spirit is a incubus that's hanging around Stein for reasons (one of those not sure if i want readers to know going into it things) and Stein is a kind of John Constantine type

[notthestarwar]

Cody and Boba spn au? 👀👀

Oh my god so I started writing this in November and then totally forgot about it till earlier this week when I saw a spn post 😂 I've just had to hunt down my notes which are spread between docs, the back of a cardboard box, a discord conversation, my friends memory (because I told her about it on a voice call apparently) and a notepad before I could figure out where the hell I was going with this one 😂😂

@thesunlikehoney i know you asked about this one too

OK so it all started with this

Which just felt so Jango to me???

So there are no monsters and Jango had raised his 4 kids to be bounty hunters. Alpha leaves when he's old enough, Rex dies, and eventually Cody gets out too leaving Boba and Jango (imagine boba as Dean here). Fast forward a few years and Cody is living a normal life, living with Alpha, and is very dedicated to his normal person job, all until Boba turns up in the middle of the night, dean style.

He explains that Jango has gone missing on a hunt and it turns out that he and Boba had started hunting force users since Cody left and Cody is like. you what??? thats a big no no. very dangerous. Cody agrees to go with him but only for the weekend, he has to be back on monday for his job interview. they investigate the case and find jango's journal but no jango. cody is like. right. i'm going home now.

but he arrives home to find the place burning with alpha (dead) inside and a calling card from ventress, the force user jango had been tracking. boba tells cody that now ventress is on his tail, he cant stay, or she'll burn down his work and everything else, so cody goes with him to stop ventress so he can return to his normal life.

things pretty much go as per spn s1, with jango leading them on and them following after him thinking they are going to find him anytime. theres lots of arguing between the two of them over jango and rex and their upbringing ect.

obi wan makes an apperance as boba and jango's ex jedi hunting consultant and helps them in the hunt for ventress. obi wan is also cody's ex, and they broke up because of jango who refused to tolerate him (but clearly changed his mind at some point after cody leaving) and then cody doesnt contact him after he leaves jango and boba because he wants to get out of the hunting life.

the whole thing is largely about jango being a shit dad but its also about the knockon effect that had on all of them. cycles of trauma. in some ways ending up like the parent that wronged you and having to confront that. rex is pretty much haunting the narrative as nobody has really dealt with his death and theres a lot of anger and grief and not wanting to speak about him. its also about running from your life after something bad happens that you dont want to face (cody with jango and boba, obi wan with the jedi) and how that act of running stops you from letting go of anything, and how there was an alternative, of cody staying in boba's life, of obi wan staying in contact with his family (the jedi), so in some ways its also about balance

tbh its very fun and i'm minorly obsessed with it again now i've revisited

Here's a very unedited snippet from the start:

[...]He’s more than able to defend himself without resorting to weapons.

It’s as he’s thinking this, that something heavy and solid barrels in to him from the direction of the kitchen.

Caught unaware, maybe he is getting rusty, he tumbles to the floor.

The intruder is armoured, beskar if Cody isn’t mistaken. Cody is naked but for boxers. It shouldn’t be a fair fight: Cody hasn’t always been a fair man.

He targets the joins in the mans armour, rolls them over, and its then, that a cloud shifts. A beam of moonlight falls on them and Cody realises, with a drop in his stomach, that he knows this armour.

“Boba?” he asks.

There is a snort from the vocoder. “So you do recognise me?”

“Of course I do! Boba. What the hell?”

“I could ask the same of you. Did you have to tackle me like that.”

Cody is taken aback for a second. “Did I have to…You attacked me! In my home! What is wrong with you?”

Boba sighs, the vocoder clicking off, his brothers true voice filtering though. “I was disarming you.” He says, like it’s obvious. “Didn’t want you to shoot first ask questions after.”

“I wouldn’t…” Cody shakes his head. “I’m not like that anymore.”

He’s still hovering over Boba, holding him to the floor. He comes back to himself, climbing to his feet and holding out a hand to pull Boba up.

“Boba. What the hell are you doing here?”

Boba shrugs, releasing his helmet with a hiss and hooking it to his belt.  He raises an eyebrow. “I could ask the same of you.” He looks around unimpressed.

“No. You could not.” Cody tells him blankly. “This is my home. I live here Boba. Not with you, I got out, remember?” He scoffs. “Haven’t seen you in ten years. So what the hell are you doing here now?”

Boba gives him a long look. “Looking for you.”

thank you for asking!

[tenrousei-kuroi]

i came to ask if you’re planning on posting the sequel rapture on the lonely shore but now i’m desperate to hear about the remus/regulus fic!!!

Yes! I am just going to post it. I was originally emailing copies to people but 1. I think I missed a few emails along the way, which is embarrassing, and 2. That was soooo long ago when I thought that what I'd written was too scandalous for the public world and meanwhile I've sailed *way* past that point now, so I think it can just be posted lol. Just gotta' dig it back up out of whatever folder it was festering in on my old laptop. Might should clean it up a skosh, too, that was teenage-me writing, who knows how well it's aged TT.TT

...In regards to the other fic, I too am desperate to hear about my Regulus/Remus story, because my brain's been cockblocking my progress on the very final chapter ೭੧(❛〜❛✿)੭೨ (I kid, I kid, it's getting there. The finish line is in sight, I'm just moving at a snail's pace lately and I'm trying to train myself not to post so many WIPs until they're closer to *done*...)

But here's a snippet of the general vibe, if you're interested:

┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

On the last day of term, Lupin found him by the lake.

“Oi, Regulus, get through potions all right? I heard you were a mite nervous about that one.”

Regulus looked up from his sandwich. “Who told you that?” He’d been relaxing beneath one of the somber willow trees by the water with a few of his classmates, but they’d both taken off to swim, leaving him alone when Lupin approached.

“Just something I heard,” Lupin said. “So...did you survive without too much strife?”

“Yes, thank you,” Regulus said with a curt nod. His skin tingled warily as Lupin sat down beside him. Regulus looked around nervously.

“Relax,” Lupin assured him, tossing his bag next to Regulus’s and stretching out, arms behind his head on the grass. “I’m not about to start snogging you in public, just visiting. Nothing suspicious, I swear.”

Regulus coughed, choking a little on some bread. “Not as if—I mean, you’d not want—you’re not here to ask that of me, are you?”

Regulus averted his eyes. Lupin chuckled lightly beside him, leaning up onto his side. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against Regulus’s crossed legs. “I don’t know, what would your answer be?”

Regulus sighed deeply. “I suppose yes.”

Lupin sat up fully, looking at him curiously. “You suppose?” he asked.

Regulus shrugged. “Well I’ve not got much choice, have I? Given everything you overheard in the library between me and my brother...I suppose I’m not really in a position to refuse you anything, am I?”

Lupin frowned. “I didn’t overhear much of anything, Regulus. Sirius told me.”

“He...he did?” Regulus gasped, a hotness prickling at his eyes.

“Yes,” Lupin insisted.

“I can’t believe it,” Regulus muttered, dejected. “He swore…”

“And you believed him?” Lupin laughed pityingly. “Poor thing,” he carded a hand through Regulus’s hair, and Regulus merely swayed back and forth from the force of it, a blank look in his eyes.

“O—okay,” he said shakily.

“Okay, what?”

Regulus sat up a bit straighter. “Okay l—let’s do your suggestion. But later somewhere. Send me a note or something and let me know where to find you,” he added a bit more confidently.

“Do wha—oh, you mean kiss?” Lupin was smiling fondly.

“Yes,” said Regulus firmly. He stood up and began to gather his bag and cloak. “And...and whatever else that we’re supposed to do.”

“Great then,” said Lupin. “I’ll send for you tonight.”

“I’ll come,” Regulus promised recklessly. Then he dashed away before he could change his mind.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

How do you go about writing your fan fictions? I personally kind of just go for it, but I end up loosing the flow and it gets all jumbled up and doesn’t really make any sense.I’ve noticed in a few of your sneak-peaks sometimes your writing is written like a script, or they are random short snippets.

I’m hoping to fix the flow of my writing, and not loose motivation as quickly.

I also usually just start writing. For the most part what I publish is almost exactly what I wrote for my rough draft with just some grammar/spelling edited (if I remember to bother with it before just throwing it up, or if I'm not practically falling asleep before I publish it).

The screenshots that are snippets are taken from scenes that are already fully written, then I just decide on a paragraph or two that I think get the idea across most clearly. The screenshots of writing that looks like it's formatted like a script are probably specifically from my Data Leak WIP, where I'm showing text messages from the characters! That's a way to represent those texts stylistically, and not how I typically write/draft.

When you guys see anything with bullet points, that's my outlining process. Normally that happens after I've already written a chunk of the story and determine I need some of those notes to make sure I don't forget about elements that I was foreshadowing just in case I step away for a while. For example, here is the chapter summary/outline for chapter 3 of Dalliance:

I knew this one was going on the WIP rotation so I wrote down everything I remembered wanted to be in that scene so I had a play-by-play when I got back to it. If you struggle with maintaining motivation for projects, then outlining with a full chapter summary can help ensure that you remember where you wanted to go in case you take a step back for a while.

But if I know I'm doing something in a bigger chunk I don't bother with that and only make short notes. For the Pet!Shifter Dabi story, this is all I have for my outline:

It's just the bare minimum of notes, but they act as anchor points for my story. These are three scenes that I want to hit, anything around these scenes can change or be adapted, even these scenes themselves can be adjusted, it all just depends on what the narrative is doing once I get deeper into the writing. If you're struggling with your flow becoming incoherent, then setting anchor points in a loose outline can help with this. You can always look at the point you are aiming on getting to, look at your current trajectory and adjust accordingly. Sometimes you might notice that the original plan isn't working anymore, that's okay too, as long as you can replace the point you were originally going to with one that is as concrete/makes just as much sense, then making that change can help your story grow.

As far as losing motivation goes, it really, genuinely does help to share your work with a few people/online who motivate you to keep going. I know that when I was in college I was writing at a similar rate as I am now because I was working on my degree. However, once I left, I slowed down a lot until I finally started posting again over the last year. If you have other writer friends then sharing with them can be a great way to keep going!

And for anyone wondering why I'm working in Comic Sans: No joke, writing in Comic Sans can genuinely help you to write faster/not be as precious with your work. And I'm writing on green with gray text because it helps me with my eyestrain after spending so much time on my computer for writing and work!

I hope this can help, but everyone writes in very different ways, and it really, genuinely can take a while to figure out what works best for you! Good luck, you've got this!

[mxanigel]

fic update: Cut to the Feeling

an Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) fanfic

[Read on AO3]

An in-progress longfic that asks the question, What if they lived?

Chapter 25: Kiss My Scars

With assistance from Orvud's Garrison, Survey Corps forces defeat the massive Titan that was once Rod Reiss. Yet a rift remains between Shion and Levi. With Hange still hospitalized, Shion expects to face the night alone. To her surprise, she doesn't.

Rating: M

Relationships: Levi Ackerman/OC, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë, Hange Zoë & OC, eventual Levi/Hange/OC

Additional Tags: They/Them Pronouns for Hange Zoë, Hange Zoë Being Hange Zoë, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Friendship, Banter, Swearing, Lots of Cursing, Angst, Love and Loss, Asexuality Spectrum, Levi Ackerman Is Obsessed With Cleaning, Falling In Love, Literal Sleeping Together, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Canon Divergence, Nightmares, Torture, Blood and Injury, Demisexual Levi Ackerman, Bisexual Hange Zoë, I'm writing this because it's taken over my brain, I have spent so many hours on the wiki lol, Eventual Romance

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Shion throws herself into her duties for the next few hours—such as dismantling the unused set of explosives and interviewing soldiers for her report to Hange—stopping only when ordered to eat dinner. After the meal, she visits Hange’s hospital room to find them sound asleep. She leaves a scribbled summary of today’s battle with a personal note at their bedside before navigating a maze of halls and stairs to reach her assigned quarters.

Fuck, this room is excessive. Granted, this is one of the fanciest buildings in Orvud, but it’s surreal to experience that opulence, to think about how much money was wasted here instead of rebuilding Stohess or supporting refugees fleeing Titan activity.

Over a dozen candles burn in wall sconces, most of which she blows out to conserve them. A four-poster bed more than double the size of a captain’s bunk sits against one wall, far too many pillows piled on top of it. The oak dresser is as wide as she is tall; Zane would probably admire its construction. Situated on its polished surface is a washbasin, the softest linen cloths she’s ever touched, and an ornately gilded mirror.

Oh, she’s a terrible sight. She diligently brushes knots from her hair before braiding it again so it’s out of the way while she reviews her notes and begins drawing the grotesque not-face of the Titan per Hange’s request. When she can’t stare at her third sketch attempt any longer, she wearily flops backward onto the bed, exhaling as she drapes both arms over her face. She’s running out of distractions. Perhaps the best course of action would be to try to sleep, nightmares be damned—

Knuckles rap against her door. Who’d swing by at this hour? Hange wouldn’t knock. Historia’s a possibility, though her movements are likely restricted now, or it might be Sasha. “It’s open.”

Shion barely swallows a gasp when Levi steps inside. He slumps against the closing door, his head bowed, looking as exhausted as she feels. But he doesn’t speak. When she can’t stand the dead air any longer, she murmurs, “Hi.”

He merely grunts.

Distance yawns between them as silence returns. She doesn’t know why he’s here. She isn’t sure whether she wants him to be here. But it’s the first time he’s sought her out since their disastrous reunion after the Stohess ambush. This heavy atmosphere is better than being alone. Right?

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tag list (thank you~ like/unlike this post to be added/removed)

@poetikat @arendaes @captastra @outpost51

[pprodsuga]

omggg a snippet just for meeee i'm so honoured u wanted to share something with lil 'ol me. stop it before i develop a parasocial relationship with you...

on a different note, if u will allow me to rant for one wee second.. this is completely irrelevant to anything but i was looking for some romcom novels to read (bc i need to stop letting fanfiction consume me), and tell me why authors pick the ugliest most generic ytest names. i haven't read a real book in a while and i'm so used to reading ff now where even side characters have korean names that the switch over back to western books is awful. i had to stop my search bc wtf is GARRETT and TUCKER. ik a korean name is just a name, there's nothing objectively special, but it's just more unique in the sense that i don't see it often outside of media. the only way to get around this is fantasy books where the names aren't even real names (thank god the book im currently reading is fantasy). PLEASE can i just get an ethnic name and maybe more ethnic characters or something... sob. i just want a college romcom to cope so i can get away from college au's😭 yeah it's fucked for me. thank u for listening to my unsolicited bitch sesh

-comet

just for you, for always being so thoughtful in your words. more under the cut to spare the dash.

your first messages back in june struck a chord within me for two reasons: talking about my writing was an incredibly kind thing for you to do and it validated the hell out of my work. but also, i was experiencing a lot of friendship turmoil that i had to navigate (re: why i wrote never to keep).

i don’t know if i’ve ever expressed just how grateful i am to have read your messages at that time because for that entire month, i felt like i did not have anyone in my life to back me up when i stood up for myself. knowing that you thought i must be someone with a great deal of empathy and kindness restored a bit of faith in me and who i am as a friend. i reread your message over and over again until i could remind myself that i am who i am for a reason. so thank you.

character names are something i think about a lot, both in fanfics and regular fiction. i’m oftentimes taken out of the story when it feels so incredibly yt (but go figure, i’m not white but have a “white” name so i understand that there is some nuance sprinkled in there). but sometimes we just crave that subtle representation in an ethnic name so i don’t have to wait for the author to explain that they’re not….white. in every sense of the word. but like if you’re gonna pick a white name then at least make them sound HOT?

onto the snippet! i’m excited to post this one. no idea when i’ll finish writing/editing but i’m excited that you’re excited. not providing context bc im a menace and will make you wait. 😎 (thank you for being excited.)

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Sunghoon turns to look at you. “You were always the most unpredictable part of my day.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah. You moved into the apartment next to mine and running into you a few times a week kept me on my toes. I don’t know. I guess I saw you as someone I would have potentially befriended. I could at least pretend I was coming home to talk to someone who cared.” 

“That’s…very sweet. You’re a nice person, Sunghoon.” 

He sighs. “I don’t feel that way. I don’t know when I’m gonna see my family and friends again and explain all of this, but I'm starting to get the feeling that they’ll never hear from me and they’ll never know what happened tonight.” 

“You know,” you begin, “a lot of my life was spent moving from place to place and never having anything or anyone to call home. I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you to leave everything behind. For that, I truly am sorry.”

“It’s really not your fault,” Sunghoon says dryly. “Whoever tried to kill you should get a bullet to his head.” He hears you laugh awkwardly.

“Yeah, well that likely wouldn’t solve our problems.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t think that man acted on his own accord. It’s too professional to assume he’s working alone.” 

“You’re saying he’s working with someone else?” 

“Or, he’s working for someone.” 

Sunghoon gulps. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“The price of freedom is high. Remember that.” 

“You know, none of this explains how you know what you’re doing. If you know, for that matter.” 

He doesn’t hear you move for a short while and closes his eyes shut. Once again, he’s found himself slipping up and saying things that don't translate well. Too afraid to speak, Sunghoon considers sleeping and dealing with his actions in the morning. 

“I know what I’m doing because I’ve done it before,” you say through the darkness. “When your whole life revolves around survival, you adapt to the best of your ability and do anything to stay alive. I’ve learned a few things from my time on the run so please know that I know what I’m doing.”

“Who are you?” 

The room is silent. 

“Someone you can trust.” 

[lowat-golden-tower]

I’m sorry but how was striker's core kept intact? He’s like a parody of his former self in the latest episode and a bad parody at that.

Ohhhh anon, anon, anon. I am more than happy to extrapolate on all things Helluva Boss! You have come to the right place for my personal hot take on why Striker is awesome and the latest episode hasn't tarnished that whatsoever.

I made it quite known back when he was the latest "controversy" in the tag that I disagree with the critics and thoroughly enjoyed not only the episode, but his portrayal, and saw no diminishments from our first introduction to him. I've explained my perspective on this in snippets across a few posts, and it's been some time, but I'll do my best to explain it all here yet again!

This may get ramble-y. I'm putting it under a cut.

Firstly note. We've seen this character a grand total of TWO TIMES. Two. That is two instances for us to learn about him and witness how he acts and reacts to the world around him. Doesn't sound like a lot of time, right? Yeah. That's 'cause it's not. For all we know, there's more layers and nuance to this character that's yet to be explored and explained. Remember, Spindlehorse has this series mapped out to the end for the most part. It's how Vivzie could tell us the number of seasons. They obviously have more plans for Striker and more episodes to explore his character in. Probably answer a lot of questions raised by his second episode as well! There's no real telling. We aren't part of Spindlehorse. But that's part of the fun and excitement of watching a show.

Now, everyone and their mother wants to cry "flanderization!" and "bastardization!" and "oh they ruined him, he's not like before, they made him a giant joke." Do people realize the Striker we got in the first episode was literally a played up caricature? The character was playing a character. It's so obvious after his second episode. Think about it.

When we meet Striker, he's this badass, untouchable, suave farm hand. Clearly he knows what he's doing and it's so obvious he's worked hard to impress and charm Millie's parents. For the best view he can get of Stolas's head, of course. Make a good impression, gain their trust. Look at how he talked to Blitzo! Total manipulator. But even in this episode you can see the cracks.

During his fight with them in the attic, he loses some of his cool. Gets emotional. Loses his manipulative edge. He tries patching it back together to act unbothered but it's clear man's got an ego and it's been bruised.

Jump to episode two. Not only do we see Striker again, we have loads more time with him. Just him and Stolas, they have a huge chunk allll alone together. We get to see so much more in-depth. The outside layers are peeled back. Striker is skilled and confident and egotistical, but that isn't all there is to his character. His lair is a testament to that. Him bitching at the singers on the way to said lair speaks volumes.

Everyone bitches about the statue but you know what? Striker's ego is enormous. I wasn't shocked at all. His ego is similar to Chaz's, however, unlike the dumbass shark he's actually capable. He knows how to put on a real façade. He tries maintaining it while dealing with Stolas but Stolas breaks it down, and Striker probably feels more comfortable removing the mask thinking Stolas is going to die. Dead men tell no tales.

He's defensive. He's prickly. He wants, desperately, to be taken seriously- just like Blitzo. He mentions having some kind of tragic backstory which probably influenced all of this, and will likely be explored in future episodes. He's deadly but he isn't some untouchable mastermind. He's a person. Someone with feelings and vulnerabilities and weaknesses. Defense mechanisms.

Stolas doesn't take him seriously even when Striker is torturing him. It probably taps into that trauma. It makes him lose his cool. And that scene during the fight, when Moxxie sexually teases Striker to gain the upper hand? Striker took that the same way. He wants to be viewed as a threat.

His fight with Moxxie and Millie was epic. He literally almost killed them both. He came so fucking close but people act like they stole his balls. Like he's no longer threatening. I guess they watched a different fight scene?

Personally, I think an additional reason he may have reacted oddly to the sexual teasing from Stolas and Moxxie could be that he's some flavor of asexual. Where he'll utilize sexual manipulation, as he did with Blitzo, but if it's thrown back at him he can't stomach it. Maybe he's caught off-guard by anyone trying to manipulate him back- use his own tactics against him. That's a common response for egoists and narcissists. The giant boner on his statue? That's an ego flex. It's Hell. Of fucking course it is.

At the end of the day, we've seen what is clearly a very complex character twice. A character who is obviously going to get more screen time. Maybe, just maybe, instead of people automatically assuming the surface level is the end-all of a character, they can wait and see where the team takes them. Characters have arcs. They have depth- good ones, anyway. And I'm so fucking excited to learn more about Striker and the reason he's like this. So excited.

And as a bonus note? If you don't like the humor used in the show? Too fucking bad. Some people do. No media can please everyone. Go watch something else.

[necroangelz]

🪽 I need the angel OC lore NEOWWW!!

angel oc lore? how about lore for an oc that's literally an angel!

『 🪽 』

infodump about an oc

the oc i will be discussing today is an scp oc i made named raziel. their pronouns are they/them. i don't have a very developed storyline fur them so i can't share a lot of info. I'll probably show off a lot of picrews i made of them though. (no links too lazy. ask fur link if uu need)

present day raziel vs past-ish raziel. present raziel here is one of my most favorite picrews I've ever made of them and it's basically their design. and once again, warning, this oc is for the scp foundation and I'm too lazy to explain stuff about the scpf, so I'm going to infodump assuming that the readers of this post know what I'm talking about. and if uur curious or confused and uu care at all just ask

as a bonus here's a link to a playlist that i associate with raziel a lot. i listened to it when i daydreamed about them and stuff

so yes, raziel is a literal angel walking amongst mortals. i made my own lore for how angels work in this universe, based on like some info i read online about the different classifications of angels and what they're like. conveniently I've stored screenshots of the notes i typed (i typed them in a private post i made in this Tumblr account back when i still used this for private notes...) so uu can read these if uu wish

sorry if none of it makes sense i wrote allat like 3 yrs ago and i still think it wouldn't have made sense if i wrote it now

but anyway. RAZIEL LORE

they're insanely tall like 7ft tbh. their form looks a bit unnatural fur a regular human but no one else notices they look out of place. some people who can notice anomalous traits in objects and entities can notice and sense that raziel isn't human. they may also see raziel glow and see raziel's halo. they would also be able to see raziel's wings but raziel has an... absence of those. after their wings got ripped out as ordered by God. yeah

raziel also has a special anomalous trait where they absolutely cannot be photographed, because anyone who sees their face becomes infatuated with them and begins worshipping them, the effects and intensity of the obsession worsening over time. a few people have died because of this. the foundation is aware of this, and destroys any photos of raziel's face they can find, and provides amnestics for anyone who has seen their face. raziel is compliant in the security measures regarding this and hates when photos are taken of them

they also wear a lot of bandages on their body. i contemplated making it so that their body cracks like porcelain sometimes. i thought it'd be cool

raziel's main department is astronomy but they also have a lot of expertise in theology (wow i wonder why). they like to ignore their theology expertise but somehow, situations always happen where their theology knowledge is Needed, and Acknowledged as a result

like i mentioned in the universe lore, powers are split up into legions like task forces to do different jobs. raziel does a quite boring job, on earth, where theyre the equivalent of a hitman who tracks anomalous objects and eliminates them. this is how they got involved with alto clef during his GOC days

more raziel. this picrew didn't have heterochromia options but raziel's right eye is brown and their left eye is red

Look idk much about the lore with popular scp characters, I'm interested there's just .... A lot of reading to do and i can't read nowadays, so clef's story and character here is based on scp 4231 bc I've read that as well as just my own ideas fur him

raziel and clef met when they were on separate missions to raid and ambush the same reality bender. they met each other by chance and decided to temporarily team up. i imagined a few snippets of this—raziel heavily smoking cigarettes bc they knew they couldn't die anyway, and back then they were less uptight that they are now; raziel and clef fighting the reality bender in an abandoned factory; and the two of them setting the factory ablaze and blowing it up

they settled into some sort of relationship where they're not really friends and they don't like each other but something draws them together and so they spend a lot of time together. they don't open up to each other, and raziel knows about clef's struggles with Lilly because they can read his mind, but they don't help him or talk to him about it at all. clef can also see that raziel is an angel, he sees their halos and the eyes on the halos, their giant wings, their glow, and he doesn't mention it either. so yeah they have that kind of friendship

idrk what happens between Then and Now, i just know that raziel transfers to the site clef works at, and clef Instantly recognizes them and knows they met before. and then he tries to investigate them or whatever and learn more about them bc he feels like something's up and he doesn't know enough about this Mysterious Person whos somehow returning to his life again IDFK DUDE LMFAO throws these blurbs at uu

okay WOE PICREW DUMP UPON YE!

honestly i think the main difference between present day raziel and past raziel is that past raziel used to Live like a Human. i mean they didn't feel like a human nor did they behave like one but back then they at least had a fake life like one. they were rich, they had an apartment, they cared a little about their fake appearance and made sure their hair and clothes were always beautiful and fancy, they indulged in human vices bc they knew these vices couldn't affect them, etc. and then along the way something changed. and they cared less until they stopped caring altogether. and their life became hollow and empty

also why does raziel wear a devil horns headband? idk either i just thought it'd be cool and figured, fuck it, it's scp, it's not the weirdest thing a character has in their appearance, and i could just make it so no one questions that part of their appearance either. so yeah

[ingravinoveritas]

So I have question and I thought maybe you would have insights. I'm not British or American, so maybe things work differently than I understand. Michael's new drama on BBC Best Interests had started this week. I was surprised there was no interview with Michael about it from what I've seen. Usually when a TV show go on air there are at least some articles or talk shows with the main actors, so why he is so silent? He also didn't post anything about it or good omens s2, which also made me a bit worried. I know he's directing a series now but I expected he would at least post something about them. I don't want to be pessimistic but I'm preparing myself for a letdown with GO s2 promoting. Neil already said something about the fact that second seasons don't get the same level of events if I remember correctly, and he wouldn't be able to promote it due to the strike, and I was really excited about all the new Michael and David content we will get but what if there will be nothing almost? Is it a possibility? If best interests isn't being promoted by him maybe GO will not be promoted too? That will break my heart a little.

(Also I saw one episode of BI and I thought it was interesting, moving and Michael and the actor who played his wife were incredible. It is such a different character for him, his range is truelly incredible).

Hello, Anon! Again, apologies for being a bit delayed in answering this, but I appreciate you writing in to me.

So yes, Michael's show Best Interests did air a few weeks ago (I've seen almost all of the episodes and am hoping to write a review of it as I make my way through all my Anons). I can tell you that he actually did do some interviews for it--this one here in the Guardian, and this one in the Telegraph, and there might have been others that I've missed, though @invisibleicewands would probably know for sure.

I think there are a couple of things that happened with these interviews, which is that any promotion to BI unfortunately got overshadowed by the clickbait headline on the Telegraph article that ultimately led to a few clashes on Twitter between Michael and Laurence Fox (Billie Piper's ex, of all people?) about Michael's comments related to non-Welsh actors playing Welsh roles. So that, along with Michael continuously working on The Way (the series he was directing) nonstop is what I think kept him off of social media up until now.

(I will say, though, that it is curiously worth noting that Michael didn't do any kind of promotion for Staged 3, and all of that seemed to fall to Georgia and AL to repeatedly post about on their socials instead...)

As for GO 2, yes, it is true that the Writers' strike and possible impending SAG strike have thrown multiple wrenches into the proceedings (for instance, the GO 2 panel that was to have taken place at SDCC has been cancelled, as has the signing that was scheduled there). But there have already been snippets from an interview with Michael and David in SFX magazine floating around (along with another article in Radio Times that has invoked the ire of much of the fandom). Also, with any luck, you've been on Twitter today, because our Michael seems to have returned to form with a vengeance. His header photo is now one of the GO 2 photos of Aziraphale and Crowley:

And he's been tweeting up a gloriously chaotic storm this evening, after months and months of silence (and probably being locked up in Neil's basement):

My guess is that whatever kept Michael from talking before now--probably an NDA, per the contract he signed for the second season--has expired, and now he's coming out swinging. I've previously talked about the kinds of things Michael tweeted when the first season came out, but if you weren't here for that, it was basically a level of feral that he seemed to strive to surpass with every successive tweet. Given how much has happened since then, I think we are in for fandom-breaking tweets the likes of which probably go far beyond what any of us have imagined.

And--perhaps best of all--we do have one confirmed talk show appearance with Michael and David, on the One Show on BBC 2 tomorrow! (I've gotten an intriguing Anon about that as well, which I will be answering shortly.) So take heart, Anon, for all is undoubtedly not lost. It's likely that these interviews were planned well in advance, which means there could also be more interviews still to come. This press tour may not have the breadth and scope of the first season, but if Michael and David together, it's more than guaranteed to be something special.

I hope this has lifted your spirits some, Anon. Thank you for writing in! xx

[romaine2424]

The Azkaban Letters: Chapter 12 is Posted!

Chapter 12 Summary: The Office Remus becomes overwhelmed reading the note from R.A.B. The castle is being decorated for Halloween and Samhain. Harry brings Ron and Hermione up to his office for the first time. Harry meets someone in his office, which makes him wish Draco had elaborated on his discussions about wizarding marriages.

Here's a Longish Snippet:

"One day, you'll have time to explore," a lyrical voice said. Harry jumped to a standing position. He scanned the room but focused on the fireplace. That is where he thought the voice originated from. The one framed picture on the mantel seemed still, but then he saw a quirk of a smile on the striking black witch in formal heather robes and fanciful hat. The first time he had entered the room, it had struck him as odd why the portrait was there. He closed the desk drawer and wandered over. "Hello," he said. "I'm Harry Potter. James' son." "Of course you are. The Potter boys always had that unruly hair. I'm sure Fleamont won't be pleased seeing you're not using his product." Harry quickly swiped back the locks of hair covering his eyes. "I'm sorry, but who are you?" "Elizabeth. Henry's second wife," said the woman in the portrait. Harry's eyes narrowed remembered seeing a glance of his more distant relatives in the Mirror of Erised, and this beautiful black witch held no resemblance. She was sitting in a wingback chair drinking tea. The backdrop was the flowering tree and stained-glass windows in Narcissa's sitting room. The chair he recognised, too. It and its mate were in Ron and Hermione's sitting area. "I suppose I should clarify, I'm Henry's second wife, though not officially married. Fiona is his first and legal wife." "Second wife? I thought Fiona died after I was born. Did they divorce?" The generous laugh startled him. "No, no, my dear boy. Henry took a Mistress…me. Fiona and Henry's marriage had been arranged. I believe they called it a Marriage of Convenience. They were close friends. We three were close friends. Fiona preferred female lovers. I was her favourite. It's a shame that their portraits are no longer here. Do you know where they went? I so miss our conversations." Harry knew he was staring as he was failing to put the pieces together. "My great-grandfather Henry had a wife and a mistress here at the castle…at the same time?" "Oh yes. It was quite common in arranged marriages. The first marriage produced the heir, the second—a mistress, if taken, was for love. More often than not, though, the wife wouldn't allow co-habitation. The husband often disregarded her preference and moved his lover into the house anyway. However, in our case, they both loved me, and I loved both of them. Maybe one more than the other." Harry took a deep breath. He wished he could owl Draco right this moment and ask him why the hell he didn't tell him about this type of arrangement. "Do you think you could find their portraits? We had them done on the same day." "I—I'll try and will ask the house-elves. I do have to get down the main entryway right now, though." "Oh—oh no. Don't ask the elves, darling. They were not happy with our arrangement. I'm sure they're the ones who moved some of the books and put Henry and Fiona's portraits somewhere else in the castle after their deaths. Henry had put a special house spell on my picture so it not be taken out of his office. He was concerned they would try." Harry felt like he had just stepped into a British drama that Aunt Petunia used to watch on the telly. "Okay. I have a few guests staying here; I will ask them and look when I have time. It was a pleasure meeting you, Elizabeth. I'm sure we will be talking more."

Updates are every Tuesday!

[hollywoodsargeant]

Definitely did not expect you to drop ch 10 on random Wednesday afternoon (where I am). It felt like christmas gift coming way too early but I AM NOT COMPLAINING AT ALLL.

If my memory serves me right, you said every chapter ends with Logans birthday or smthng so chapter 12 will be final year high school, and boi do I know what that means. I also remember airport scene somewhere along your ask post, PERHAPSSSS *bombastic side-eye mode* [Narrator: this anon does not know shit but props for blind confidence].

Chewing glass because my roommate is probably wondering why I kept uttering "he is crazy" to my phone. Your Logan is an absolute mad man I want to observe his brain which probably contains a lot of Oscar-related-neurons but whatever he is SO DUMB YOUR HONOUR.

Ao3 user Miamis you are a legend.

i update boyish on no schedule and just post the chapters whenever they are done which usually is some stupid time in my timezone and at random. and without warning. bc i think it is more fun that way

AND YEAH. chapter 12 will be the second half of their senior year of high school. the list of things i need to make happen in that is long and there is one specific note on the list that scares me more than all the others... but amongst the things is senior prom (which i have plans for) + graduation (which the most those plans extend is me daydreaming about their post-grad instagram posts. for some reason)

there is an airport scene... i've written it (it needs to be edited) and it is sitting on my secondary doc amongst several other scenes for college. again there's a snippet i posted somewhere that only got a few notes lol but it has the answer implicit. when did i become some evil writer sending anons on scavenger hunts I'M SORRY it's in the boyish.miamis tag somewhere i have taken a new liking to Vagueing On Main. i apologize

AND LOGAN IS CRAZY. i know i wrote him but also no i didn't he does what he wants. can you stop kissing your friend's face while you're literally carrying your girlfriend on your back you're crazy