#There are two autumns in this one school year xD

[yaminerua]

There’s no consistency across the clamp school timeline and it’s hilarious bc everything is all over the place and god knows when these kids’ school terms begin and end lmfao

[flusteredfools]

First off, love ur work & ur au.

The LoZ au was such a good read & I absolutely love the fluff & hurt in Feafull hearts.

Keep it up~

On a different note had artisan y/n ever thought of making candy? I can't help imagining sprite sun getting a sugar high & zooming around.

Aww thank you!! 💕💕 I'm so glad you like them! The LoZ AU I know seems like a weird crossover to some but I'm glad overall people liked it! I'm still looking forward to the drabbles I have planned for them. And I'm already getting sad that Faeful Hearts is starting to get closer to the end; it was originally only meant to be a 10 chapter short story but I've fallen so in love with my own creation that it's now been spread out over 20 chapters and still going... XD As for your question, yes! Artisan Y/N loves to dabble in a bit of everything and anything, and candy making would be right up their alley! From simple candies like milk caramels and chocolate melts to finer skilled ones like sugar sculptures, they'd want to try it all; and much to their Fae partners' delight. Assorted candy trays make great holiday gifts after all. If Sun and Moon had their way though, Artisan Y/N wouldn't be sharing any of their sweet creations with anyone but them; but after letting them sample all the treats one day only to find the myth of a sugar rush for humans is not a myth for their Fae Neighbors, well they had to pay a bit more attention to how much they spoil their loving Fae spouses.

If you'd like, please enjoy this small drabble inspired by your ask that's below the cut!

Sugar Highs & Hayrides - Part One

Faeful Hearts Side Drabble - Artisan Y/N x Fae Sun x Fae Moon (word count: 1353)

CW: kisses and playful Fae, very minor main story spoilers (I think that's it but please let me know if I missed anything)

The Autumn breeze blows chilly air across the wind chimes outside the kitchen window, while you work on the final batch of treats for the Many Hands Shelter’s Halloween party tonight. With no children of your own and your home being too far outside the small town, you wouldn’t be seeing any trick-or-treaters, no littles dressed up in spooky or adorable costumes gracing your doorstep with small riddles or silly jokes. You can’t say it was a holiday you used to look forward to while you were growing up, though the boarding school did host a small dance and banquet, inviting family members to come and join in the festivities and show off what the students have been up to throughout the year; you never really partook in more than just the meal. 

Gregory would invite you to join him and the Glamrocks in a makeshift patrol of trick-or-treating; Gregory visiting houses for candy while the Glamrocks would split up and watch over children and help steer them from trouble. Though occasionally, the Fae would pull small pranks of their own on rowdy teenagers or those up to no good. But you’d politely decline more often than not. No costume to wear door to door and not usually feeling up to the pranks. So instead you’d retire back to your dorm room and keep yourself entertained with self-study, crafting or reading. 

But this year is different, this year you’re back home and have two loving husbands who greatly enjoy the holiday. They’ve told you tales from years in the past, how they’d take the time to relax and celebrate on Hallow’s Eve. Sun would spend time swapping in and out of his Glamours to be around the children, helping lost ones find their parents, picking up abandoned wrapped treats, admiring all the decorations humans would hang and place around their yards; and Moon would delight in startling anyone who crossed his path while he clung to the shadows in his animal Glamour, laughing alongside children and adults as jack-o-lanterns lined the sidewalks with a warm glow before claiming fallen candy as a reward for his tricks. 

You were more than happy to let them have the holiday to spend however they wished, even if it left you at home alone in the small cottage; after all you had no magic that would allow you to join in their pranks or guidance. However, Sun said he had a better idea and pulled out a flier from the Many Hands Shelter advertising a Halloween Party and requesting volunteers and donations and, well, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day. 

Moon volunteered to help them decorate the venue they rented and even offered to help make a haunted house attraction, and you had to remind him to make sure he didn’t go overboard, small scares were fine but you didn’t want any children or parents terrified; to which he replied “no promises~” with a sharp smirk. Sun had already been picking out the best pumpkins and squash from his garden to help children carve and paint their own jack-o-lanterns, as well as offer his truck and trailer for a night time hayride. 

In between helping them both with their projects, you decided to do the majority of baking treats for the event. Wanting to make it extra special you decided you’d make candy this year to go along with your cookies, cakes and brownies. You’d done a bit of research, getting everything you’d need to make your own sugar sculptures and chocolates; though most of the work could be done through candy molds. 

You just finished a tray of caramel and candied apples and slices, and were now working on dipping some blueberries and strawberries in colored melted sugar, planning on sculpting the blueberries into small spiders and the strawberries into bats; working the melted sugar similar to how you’d work glass. You wanted small works of art that children and adults could enjoy, posing the spiders on white candy sticks as if they were hanging from a web and the strawberry bats on pretzel sticks as if they were hanging from a branch. Figuring it would be an easier way to eat the treat without anyone getting their fingers too sticky. 

That’s not to say you didn’t have your fair share of mistakes with the candy; a decent size pile of broken sugar shards and chocolate chunks fill a bowl on the counter beside you. Though the bowl of misshapen treats isn’t as full as it once was, Sun keeps sneaking pieces out of it when he thinks you’re not looking when he comes in to help load up your trays of goodies for the party. You’ve let him get away with it a few times now, just so the bowl wouldn’t overflow while you still needed it, but now that you could see the bottom of it again it was time to cut the light Fae off. 

“Sunshine.” You lightly scold once you hear him approaching again as you finish packing up the last of the treats to load. His attention turns to you, hands that were about to reach for the bowl on the counter wrapping around your body instead.

“Yes, my Sweet?” He coos, placing a kiss to your lips before trailing them across your cheek. 

You giggle away from his kisses, “don’t you think you’ve had enough sugar for now?” He gasps and nuzzles his face against your neck, trailing new kisses as one hand draws circles into your hip.

“Never~ There’s no such thing as too much sugar, especially from someone as sweet as you~” he teases between kisses, drawing them back up your neck to your lips. You giggle again, pressing your own kisses back to his lips as you trail your fingers down his shoulder and arm of the hand not on your hip. 

“As kind as it is of you to say that, Sunshine, I would have to disagree.” You continue your path along his arm until you’re able to grip his wrist and remove the candy he was trying to steal literally from behind your back. “And I think a bowl full of sugar when I know you plan on having more at the party tonight is too much.” Sun clicks his tongue in disappointment of getting caught sneaking the candy, having thought he was distracting you well enough. He switches to a pout, trying to use his puppy eyes on you to make you give in like you always have before. You spread your free hand over his face to block it out and you turn your eyes. “No! Don’t even think about giving me the puppy pout. You know how you get when you have too much sweets and you have a group of children looking forward to a hayride tonight.” 

“But Blossom…” Sun whines at you, taking advantage of your hand across his face to place more kisses into and you feel your resolve melting away like the sugar still in the pot with each gentle touch. You let out a long sigh and you can feel the corners of Sun’s lips upturn into his winning grin. 

“You don’t get more now, so wipe that smirk.” You playfully huff at him, “but as long as you don’t get too hyped up on sugar that it will affect your driving, you can finish the bowl before we head over to the venue.” He places a firm kiss on your temple as he pulls away from you to load up the final dessert tray you finished. Sun spins himself and the dessert tray happily as he hums a tune in his victory as he leaves the kitchen. “You’ll still have to cut back on the desserts at the party!” You call after him and while you know he heard you, he didn’t respond. You let out a groan of mild regret as you start cleaning up the remains of your mess; trying not to think of the mess you’ll have on your hands later tonight when Sun doesn’t heed your warnings.

[jamesunderwater]

Tell me about your writing history! Is this your first fandom? Had you ever written anything else before? Maybe embarrassing poetry or a diary?

Wow this ask had me pulling out my old hard drive to look at the oldest writings I could find I actually went into my old boxes and found the one remaining notebook from pre-college, as well. So this turned into a VERY fun adventure xD Thank you for sending this, Anna!

So my journey into writing is really intertwined with my love for HP. I'd definitely say it was my first fandom, and it's absolutely been my most long-lasting one. I was very into Supernatural in middle school as well (it had just come out), but nothing captured me like HP, and eventually, the Marauders. I remember writing a story when I was like 9 for this monthly contest we had in school, and I specifically said to myself, "I'm going to write this in the style that JKR uses," and because of that, I was SURE I was going to win the contest. I even remember using "he said, matter-of-factly" in the story, because I'd looked up what that meant when reading HP (about Hermione, of course) and thought it was just next-level writing. I did actually win the contest that month, too! xD So I would say I really started getting into writing and enjoying it because the Harry Potter books made me fall so in love with reading.

So jump ahead to early middle school, around 11 years old, I'm on fucking Neopets, and I discover a roleplaying forum. And a thread seeking someone to play James at the Yule Ball......and thus, my Highest Self was born. 😆 It felt like I'd discovered a whole new world where I could really be myself and do the things I loved with other people who loved it, too. So I started roleplaying (on myspace lmao), mostly as Sirius or James and eventually also Dean Winchester. I discovered ff.net and hpff, and wrote some stories, but mostly I really loved interacting with other writers through rping.

Most of what I wrote outside of rp was either poetry or short stories, and most of it was really dark, cause my life in general was really dark. In college I took a poetry writing course and a fiction writing course and fucking loved them both, but I didn't end up going any further in those courses. I roleplayed off and on throughout my 20s, wrote poetry off and on, little fics and drabbles here and there. Came up with ideas for books I never wrote. So really, what I'm doing right now with Dead to Me is the most "serious" I've been about a multi-chapter story before, unless you count the ongoing stories I technically wrote as a roleplayer. Like, I know I'm actually going to finish this one, whereas so often in the past I just let things fall away (thank you, adhd).

As for old writing/embarrassing stuff - the oldest fandom thing I found was actually a short wolfstar fic I wrote in 2011 that made me smile so much! I might post it. 😊 Which is so funny because I don't even remember writing it. I did easily find some embarrassing poetry, though. I picked one out from my hard drive from 2011 before I found my old notebook from high school, so congrats, you get two embarrassing poems for the price of one. Under the cut, cause geez, I've already talked a lot xD

From my first year in college...feast your eyes on a gross poem about my first real boyfriend, who was (shocker) an absolute asshole:

It’s your back, the way your skin crawls across it like caterpillars stretching tight while you blanket over me.

It’s your hair, those thick tendrils of brown leaves falling over me like autumn when it starts and it feels like the sky is falling.

It’s your laugh, that low baritone. That tuba in the brass section that gets all the attention and earns glares from the girls in football stands that can’t hear over them, but I become a puddle to that sound.

You are a warm blanket in an ice locker – relief.

Watching you live is like videotaping a child’s first years. Their first giggles that grace the world, first few steps and words and birthdays, bed time stories and grandparents’ laps. All in all, true happiness.

You are all the reasons in the world to smile, and so I am.

Andddd from my first year in high school, please enjoy this poem about having your heartbroken by someone on the internet:

You were like a magnet I, a piece of metal could do nothing but give into gravity and fall into your hesitant arms

I couldn't trust you to catch me

When I came crawling back you made me swear never to leave again I made the vow sealed myself in an envelope that never made it to Ohio

You refused to open me up I just begged and pleaded for your love

In the end the magnet will pull away and leave me a useless piece of rust Too drained to give up Too defeated to get up

When you left, so did all my hope

You wonder why I take the lead You wonder why I always leave the first time

Real talk, I actually MUCH prefer the second poem. Maybe it's because I still remember lines from it to this day, or because the idea of writing a lovey poem to an asshole is more cringey than writing a heartbreak poem in general, but.... I don't hate those last two lines 😆

[3milesup]

For the writer ask thingy: ☕️ 📒 📚

☕ what's your go-to drink while writing?

Welll... at home it is definitely a tea! I drink ungodly amounts of various infusions 😅 (actually brewing a nice strawberry and grapes one while i'm writing^^)

Back home, i had my cafeterias of choice where i used to sit and write and there, my thing was a chai latte... it was freaking delicious 🥲 but when it wasn't the season, i would get a cappuccino - yes, at any hour of day, idc, coffee without milk gets me sick... - or, surprisingly, a tea xd

📒 - where do you jot down your ideas?

Notebooks!! I have numerous, they are pretty hardback ones, or like those thin school notebooks - also pretty, i sometimes think i must look weird in the stationery shop checking out all the A5 school notebooks and then go away with one (1), with some beach sunset or autumn forest picture on it... but i can't help it, i need to "connect" with the notebook if i am to be comfortable writing into it... yes, i'm a freak 🙈😅

you know my fav one, actually, it is the ravenclaw one - there are still pages left in it!^^ then i have one super cool that is covered in sequins and has two different writings depending on which way you flip the sequins, i am in love and hope the sequins will never start to fall off from how much i brush them this way and that 😂 it says "i kinda like the new me" and underneath it, when you flip the sequins upside down, "i kinda liked the old me, too" and i couldn't relate more to it...

Then of course, there's the phone, when i'm not at home or don't have time to get comfy with the notebook... Then, i mostly use the the laptop just to rewrite the parts from the notebook and string them together, with some filler parts etc... but i don't like looking at the screens for too long...

📚 - who's your favourite author (or a few of them)?

Oh, a difficult one!! I'll always say, the writer of my heart is E.M. Remarque...

Then there is one local writer that is an ex detective from Homicides and he writes about their squad throughout the years, he has published many books fortunately, and i can't get my hands on them here but luckily, a lot of them exist as audiobooks so i often listen to them in my car or while doing crafts^^ they are awfully suspenseful, so well written and the squad has perfect chemistry and black humour...

(I might add that Taylor Jenkins Reid might be on her way to become a favourite, i need to read more from her because the little i have read so far, i am in love with^^)

Thank you so much, my dear!^^

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Bells in Autumn

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Eleven

A JSE Fanfic

You guys voted for it, so this week we have a PNPT chapter! A whole bunch of stuff happens in this. It’s the first day of school and that’s a busy day for anyone school-age—AND it’s Schneep’s birthday, too. So I’ll try to sum up what happens. The boys all go to school, and once there, Chase is confronted by a familiar face. She wants to know what’s going on. Then, afterwards, they all gather at Chase and Schneep’s house for a birthday party :) Nothing goes wrong at all! And for once, I’m not being coy about that XD Enjoy!

++++++++++++++++++++

“Chase? It’s time to get up!”

Chase groaned and rolled over as his mom turned on the light to his room. It was happening. As much as nobody wanted it to come, it was inevitable: the first day of school had arrived.

“You know you’re going to have to start waking yourself up soon,” Mom said. “I can’t do this forever. Anyway, Henrik is already downstairs. Better make sure he doesn’t take all the chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Chocolate chip pancakes?!” Chase threw aside his blanket and sat up straight. “No, wait, I’m coming!”

“Shower first,” Mom said firmly. “It’s the first day, after all.”

“Did Henrik have to shower?”

“He took a bath last night, remember?”

Chase made a mental note to consider showering at night. “I’ll be right there,” he promised, standing up.

Ten minutes later, he was hurrying down the stairs, fully dressed with empty backpack in hand. He could smell the pancakes from here. Though he usually preferred waffles over pancakes, that all went out the window when chocolate chips were involved. He walked into the dining room to see Mom and Schneep sitting at the table together. “Good morning, Chase,” Schneep said, giving a little wave.

“Morning!” Chase sat down at the seat next to him, where Mom had already put his plate with pancakes and a glass of milk. He reached over for the syrup and started drizzling it over his pancakes.

“Chase, don’t get it on your sleeve!” Mom said worriedly. “You only have one uniform jacket!”

“Sorry.” Chase jerked his arm out of the way of sticky syrup. Today, he and Schneep were dressed identically in the uniform for Hollewych Secondary School: a white button-up shirt, black pants, a dark green dress jacket, and a green-and-gray tie. It was so lame. Chase just knew he looked like a nerd. At least he wasn’t wearing the alternative to the regular tie—a bow tie. Then he would look like a preppy nerd. And at least the school didn’t regulate shoes so he could wear his favorite sneakers. And technically, he could wear his cap at lunch and breaks.

“Alright. I have your timetables here.” Mom held up two envelopes. “It can be hard to keep track of your classes, so you two need to keep hold of these. I also have backup copies that are on the fridge. Those stay in the house. And Henrik?”

Schneep jumped a bit. “Ja?”

“I know the school system is different here, so if you need any help, you know you can talk to your teachers, right?” Mom said gently. “Or Chase. Or even me, if you want.”

“Yeah, you can ask me anything!” Chase agreed. “When we moved here, I had to figure out how school here was different from being in America, so I get it. Here, you can ask me a question now.”

Schneep laughed a little. “Thank you, Chase, but Aunt Jess already explained to me the basics. It is very different, though, so I think I will have to ask you again later.”

“It can’t be that different,” Chase said. “You were in secondary school, right?”

“Yes, I was in the first secondary school, in Gymnasium.”

Chase blinked. “Like... P.E.?”

Schneep laughed again. “No, no. Gymnasium is a type of school. See, this is what I mean.”

“Oh! Huh.” That was confusing. Chase hoped he didn’t have to explain too much. “By the way, what year are you in? Did you have to, like, take a test to figure out where you fit or was it just based on your age?”

“Was I supposed to take a test?” Schneep asked nervously.

“No, you weren’t supposed to take a test,” Mom reassured him. “It’s just determined by your age. You’re in the same year as Chase. In fact, I asked that the two of you share some classes. I know you both got the same homeroom—it’s labeled as ‘form’ on your timetables.”

“Ah.” Schneep looked relieved. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Mom smiled at them both. “Now you two hurry and finish your breakfast. We don’t want to start off the school year late.”

++++++++++++++++++++

BRAAP! BRAAP! BRAAP!

“Oh my fucking goddddd.” Marvin buried his face deeper in his pillow. “Shut the fuck uuuuuup.”

Beneath him, he heard JJ shift about on the bottom bunk, and then the annoyingly loud alarm stopped. The bedframe squeaked as Jameson stood up and pulled open his dresser drawer, no doubt taking out the carefully folded school uniform that he’d triple-checked was there the night before. Meanwhile, Marvin refused to open his eyes. Maybe if he just stayed asleep Mam and Dad would leave without him and he could stay home.

He might have actually fallen asleep for a little bit. Because he was suddenly jolted awake by someone pushing on his mattress from below. Repeatedly nudging him in the ribs and stomach. “I get it, JJ, jesus.” Marvin finally rolled over. His top bunk was at the exact right height for JJ to meet his eyes while standing on tiptoes. Which he was doing right now. JJ grinned and waved. “Don’t be a smartass,” Marvin mumbled. “I’m getting up, okay?”

Better hurry, JJ signed. You don’t want to miss breakfast. Dad won’t wait.

“I know, I know.” Marvin sat up, as straight as he could without his head hitting the ceiling. He took one moment to sigh in dread before descending the ladder from the top bunk.

JJ was already showered and dressed. His uniform jacket and pants were neat and unwrinkled, and the green-and-gray bowtie was perfectly straight and spiffy. His bookbag hung from his shoulder. And he was holding Marvin’s school uniform, which he held out for him to take.

“Thanks,” Marvin muttered. He grabbed the uniform. “Now leave so I can change.”

JJ gave him a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile before turning and leaving the room.

Two minutes later, Marvin joined him in the hallway, now in his school uniform, complete with backpack—though the tie was undone. “Alright, down the stairs of doom,” he said, and started walking.

You know I hate when you call them that, JJ said, frowning.

“Why not? It’s appropriate.” The staircase in their house was narrow with steep steps, and the bannister did a strange turn at the bottom that blocked off a fourth of the space at the end. Marvin had once joked that it was easy to fall down their staircase, and if that happened, someone might just hit their head on the end of the bannister. The “stairs of doom” had just stuck after that. For him, at least.

It just seems like a bad omen, JJ said. We walk down these every day, and you’re tempting god or the universe or whoever every time you say that. You’re a witch, you should believe in karma. 

“Yeah, but I don’t think that joking about doom would cause karma.” The two of them were now descending the stairs in question, which creaked loudly—another reason they were the stairs of doom. The wood sounded like it would break any moment, even though their parents assured them it was solid.

Well, speaking of tempting bad fate. As soon as they reached the bottom JJ held out his arm, preventing Marvin from walking forward. You don’t think they’ll say anything about the cape?

Marvin had indeed come out of their bedroom wearing his black cape over the school uniform. “Oh, I hope they do. It won’t stop me. I’ll just put it in my bag and smuggle it in. I double-checked, you know, there’s nothing about capes in the dress code so it’s technically school legal.”

JJ smiled. Well, if you’re sure.

The two of them continued into the kitchen. Mam and Dad were already there, sitting at the small square table with a plate each. Omelets. “There you are!” Mam said. “I was starting to t’ink I’d have to go on up t’ere and get you! We could be late at any minute!”

Sorry Mam, JJ signed. I wanted to be sure everything was ready. We have everything here. Meanwhile, Marvin walked around the kitchen counter and started loudly opening cabinets, looking for bread and cereal.

“Well don’t you look handsome,” Dad said, lowering the newspaper and nodding approvingly. “Have everything in your bag? All your books?”

Yes, Dad, JJ said.

“Hey JJ do you want the one with the fruit or just flakes?” Marvin asked.

Fruit, JJ replied, joining Marvin on the other side of the counter to help him get bowls and dishes.

“You better know t’is is the year school gets serious—for the both o’you!” Mam began the same speech she’d given every first day of school the twins could remember. “T’ere’s more weight placed on exams, and you’ll have to choose your classes seriously, because t’ey could impact your future careers! People love a man who can do maths and sciences, so you better focus on t’at for the year...”

Marvin looked at Jameson. Does she know that you’re in theatre? he asked, hiding his signing behind the cereal box.

JJ nodded. Does she know YOU’RE in remedial math? he asked, hiding his signing beneath the counter.

Marvin made a face. Well the school had to tell her, right?

Mam talked all through breakfast. Dad didn’t say anything of his own, but he did repeat what she said with more emphasis and detail. The twins just let them go on, until, finally, Dad looked at the clock on the wall and folded his newspaper closed. “Well, if we want to be on time we’ll have to go now,” he said. “No time to grab anything else, so I hope you have everything.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Marvin said, and JJ nodded.

“Great. To the car, now.”

The twins stood up and followed their dad to the front door. “Have fun, you two!” Mam called. “Do us proud!”

“Yeah, bye!” Marvin called back. Jameson waved goodbye.

As they stepped outside into the cool morning air, Marvin couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that neither she nor Dad had commented on his cape.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Oh no, we have Mr. Bartley first thing in the morning?” Chase groaned. The first thing he’d seen walking into the classroom was the name written on the whiteboard, front and center. He pulled the timetable Mom had given him out of his pocket just to double check they were in the right room. They were. And not only that, but: “I have him later today, too?! Nooooo.”

“What is so wrong?” Schneep asked.

“I had him for English last year, and he’s not only boring, he’s super strict. He doesn’t accept late homework, and if you miss a day you only have one day to make up for everything. And there’s going to be a lot of stuff to make up, because he gives out a bajillion worksheets.” Chase sighed. There goes the hopes of having a better grade in English than last year.

“I have never had any problem with teachers,” Schneep said.

“Really?”

“Well, I have always worked very hard, and been very quiet, so they always liked me,” Schneep explained. “They say I am a smart kid.” He paused. “The last teacher I had...was very helpful. He listened to me.”

“...huh. Well, that’s good. I don’t know if any teachers like me.” Chase paused. “I don’t think they hate me either. Maybe. There was Mrs. Harvey two years ago—okay, maybe one teacher hated me, but I think she hated everyone. Anyway, let’s sit down.”

“Can we sit together?” Schneep asked.

“Well, all the teachers will probably make us sit in a seating chart, but we can sit together at first,” Chase said, walking over to a desk. The second row from the window, in the middle-back. You never wanted to be right next to the window because the teachers would call on you more to be sure you were paying attention, but you wanted to be close enough to see the sun. Schneep followed him and sat in the desk next to him—the third row from the window. There were other students dotted about, either also sitting or standing and talking. “Oh yeah. Schneep. Since you’re new here, the teachers will probably make you introduce yourself.”

“Introduce myself?” Schneep repeated. “Can they not do that for me? I will say hi, of course, but can they not explain everything else?”

“They probably can, actually.” Chase had never thought of that. “But I think they make you do it so people can get to know you. Some teachers might let other kids ask you questions, too. Or they might make you give some fun facts about yourself. So start thinking about stuff like that.”

“Can I tell them unfun facts about myself?” Schneep asked. “Because I am not a very fun person.”

Chase laughed. “You’ll do great, bro. They don’t need to be ‘fun,’ just, like interesting stuff. Talk about your favorite animal or something, I’m sure—”

“It’s you!”

Chase looked around. He recognized that shout. Was it really her?

It was her. Pink Glasses—Stacy Siegel, Heather’s sidekick—was weaving her way around the desks on her way to where Chase and Schneep were sitting. “Chase Brody,” she said, stopping in front of his desk. “Omg. I have been waiting forever to talk to you again.”

“Uhhhh...” Chase’s mind went blank. He glanced at Schneep, who was doing his best to slowly sink under the desk without anyone noticing. The last time the two of them had seen Stacy, she’d shouted at them for being on her front lawn, and then suddenly left when she noticed the monster dog across the street. Neither of them knew how to deal with that. “Whyyy?” Chase finally asked, drawing out the word in uncertainty.

“Why? Why?!” Stacy leaned onto Chase’s desk. “Because there was a freaking giant dog with glowing eyes! A-and you and your friends, you all—I-I don’t know what you did, but there was a lot of green light! What the heck was that all about?!”

“Uh... well you see...” Chase shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Maybe... you’re mistaking me for someone else, cause I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Chase, despite how you don’t remember my name, I remember you perfectly clearly,” Stacy said, leaning back and folding her arms. “And I remember your friends, too. The Jackson twins were there, and that guy whose dad runs the PTA, and you were there too!” Stacy spun to look at Schneep, who had slumped a good few inches in his chair. “You—you’re his cousin, you’re—” She paused. “Sorry, I literally just forgot your name.”

“Henrik,” Schneep said, sitting up straight. “And for your information, none of this is your business.”

“How the heck is a giant dog with glowing eyes not my business?!” Stacy whisper-shouted. “It was right outside my house!”

“Well, it’s not outside your house now,” Chase said. “And it’s never gonna be again.”

Stacy’s eyes went wide behind her glasses. “Did you kill it?!”

“No!” Chase glanced around. Stacy had shouted that loud enough for all the nearby students to look over at them. “Schneep is right, it’s none of your business,” he whispered.

Schneep nodded. “This is something that we and our friends do. Surely you have things you do with your friends, too.”

Stacy’s face shifted. For a moment, she looked sad. Then she got over it. “Well I don’t know why you guys are in charge of—of taking care of giant dogs. I think that’s something the police or animal control should be doing.”

“Are you going to tell them?” Chase asked. “Do you think they’ll listen to twelve-year-olds?”

That seemed to stump Stacy. She stared at Chase silently for a good few seconds. He stared back. Neither of them wanted to break eye contact first. “Alright,” Stacy said. “Listen, Chase Brody—”

“What are you all doing out of your seats?!”

Chase had never thought he’d be glad to see Mr. Bartley. The teacher had just walked into the room, carrying a large briefcase in one hand and a clipboard in the other, like he was attending some sort of business meeting. Mr. Bartley was a very tall man, with a very long face and a ring of dark hair surrounding his bald head. He glared at all the kids in the room. “The moment you enter my classroom, you will sit and not stand until I say so, even if class has yet to start. Understand? Now sit!”

All of the kids immediately scrambled to find a desk. Stacy grabbed the first available desk—which happened to be the one on Chase’s other side. Well. At least that wouldn’t last forever. Bartley was sure to put them in a seating chart the moment the bell rang.

Bartley walked over to the teacher’s desk in the corner and sat down his briefcase and clipboard, beginning to rummage through his stuff while grumbling. Chase could hear him from here, something about respecting authority and “what a state this country is in!” Ugh.

Nobody dared say a word. Chase glanced at Schneep to see how he was handling this. His face was carefully blank as he sat rod-straight in his seat. Chase waved to get his attention, then gave him a big smile and two thumbs up. Schneep smiled a little back.

And then a piece of folded notebook paper landed on Chase’s desk. He glanced down at it. Then over at Stacy. She was staring at him intently.

Well, he had to take care of this quickly before Bartley saw. Chase hurried and unfolded the paper. The pencil handwriting was neat, with hearts over the lowercase I’s instead of dots. It simply read: Tell me more. And if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone in school.

Chase looked at Stacy. He dug into his backpack and pulled out a pencil, scribbling under the note. There’s nothing more to tell. And he threw the paper back onto her desk.

Stacy replied quickly. I know there is. You and your friends did something. Was it actually magic?

You won’t believe us, Chase replied.

Yeah I will.

She was persistent. He needed to stall. I need to ask my friends. Give me time.

Stacy paused for a while before writing her reply. Fine. If you don’t tell me by next week, then I’ll tell everyone.

Chase wanted to call her bluff, or to say that no one in school would believe her. But he knew that wasn’t true. A lot of the kids would believe her. And there were some serious gossips in school—like Heather. They would relish any good story no matter how believable it was, and if the story spread far enough, Chase would be known as the “weird dog magic guy” for the rest of the year. Maybe even the rest of his life. So... he didn’t have a choice. He looked over at her and nodded, then crumpled up the note and shoved it in his pocket.

Stacy nodded back, and looked away. Just in time for the first bell to ring.

“Alright.” Bartley stood up and walked to the whiteboard at the front of the class. The faint murmuring that had started up died down again. “For those of you who don’t know me, I am Professor Bartley. You are in my class for form, and I will not have you thinking that you can prattle on because this is the first class of the day. There will be no talking in my class except when I give you permission. You are here to learn, not to socialize. If you haven’t started taking your schooling serious by now, then you had better learn to do so soon, because I will not be holding your hand through my lessons.”

Blah blah blah. Chase zoned out for a little while. He knew what to expect from Bartley by now.

“—I understand we have a new student transferring in from a different country this year.”

He snapped back to attention.

Bartley looked down at his clipboard. “Henrik von... Schneeple-stain. Stand up.”

Schneep immediately stood. His eyes darted around the classroom, but he didn’t move. Not even to fidget.

“So.” Bartley lowered the clipboard. “Where are you from? And what made you come here?”

“I...” Schneep’s voice squeaked, so he coughed and tried again. “I am from Germany. And I am here because... I have moved here.”

“Parents here for work?” Bartley asked, not looking interested in the answer.

“Nei—no. I am... living with my aunt and cousin.” Schneep looked a bit pale. Chase leaned forward, glaring around the room, daring anyone to ask a nosy, probing question that would make Schneep uncomfortable. Nobody said anything. He chose to believe it was because of his glare.

“Well, at least one of you is polite,” Bartley muttered. “Sit down again, Mr... Schneeple-stain.” He didn’t look too confident in that pronunciation but chose to go forward with it anyway. Schneep sat, relieved. “Actually, stand again. All of you stand. I have a seating chart arranged for this term, and before anything else, you will move to your appropriate desk.”

Yep, as expected. A seating chart. Five minutes of awkwardly shuffling around later, everyone was in a different seat. It was alphabetical, so Chase was moved to the front row, on the end by the door. Schneep didn’t have to move that much. Just one seat to the side... right next to Stacy, who didn’t have to move at all. Well. Chase was a little relieved that Stacy wouldn’t be able to pass him anymore notes about dogs with glowing eyes, but he wished he was closer to Schneep. Or that he was at least within easy eyeshot.

“Now, before we get to serious matters, I am required to pass this out.” Bartley began walking along the rows with a stack of papers, giving one to each student. “Your year is going on a school trip to the planetarium one week from now. The year above you is going as well, so there will be a lot of children in that building. Better not cause any trouble. And better get this permission slip signed by a parent if you want to go.”

The planetarium? Interesting. Chase had never been there before. He wondered... As soon as Bartley couldn’t see him, Chase turned around to look at Schneep. Even from across the classroom, he could see the excitement in his expression.

Well, that was one bit of good news this morning. At least today had that.

++++++++++++++++++++

“So, how was the first day?” Mom asked as soon as Chase and Schneep entered the car.

“It was alright,” Chase said, shutting the door behind him as he got into the front seat. “I didn’t see Chad. I don’t think I have any classes with him yet.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” Mom said sympathetically. “What about your other friends? The twins?”

“Well, they’re older. But I didn’t see them at lunch, sooo...” In truth, he hadn’t gone looking. He’d been too busy trying to find his friend Chad, who’d been away at camp all summer. When he failed to find anyone walking around, he and Schneep got food and sat down together.

“Ah, I see.” Mom nodded. “And you, Henrik? Was it confusing at all?”

“A little bit, but not too much,” Schneep said as he put on his seatbelt. “I think it will be fine.”

Chase and Schneep also had English and Chemistry together. He was glad to see that no one was bothering Schneep—probably. He didn’t know what was going on in Schneep’s other classes. But for the most part, other kids seemed alright with him. A few kids at the same lunch table had commented on his accent, but they were just curious, not mocking. Chase had been concerned about Heather Westing, since she and Schneep had got off on a bad start at the pool earlier in the summer, but Heather and her curly-haired sidekick had been too busy chatting with other girls at lunch to bother with any of the guys.

Strangely enough, Chase hadn’t seen Stacy at Heather’s lunch table. Weren’t they friends? Or... had something happened? Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Should we be driving now?” Schneep asked, looking around. “There are a lot of cars. There might be traffic.”

“Well, we’re still waiting for a couple people,” Mom said.

Schneep blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Chase turned around and looked at him in the back seat. “Remember how it’s your birthday?”

“It would be hard for me to forget that, yes.”

“Remember how we said we wanted to have a party? After school? Well, we need everyone for that, right? So I asked Mom if we could pick everyone up.”

“Oh! I think that’s them,” Mom said, looking through the windshield.

Chase turned around, and saw Marvin and JJ walking out of school together. “That is them!” He gasped. He started to wave them over, but then stopped. There were a lot of kids in the pickup area. He couldn’t help but wonder... would they notice the Jackson twins getting into the car with Chase? That really shouldn’t matter, because the twins were great. But they were still a little weird. Would that make Chase and Schneep weird by association?

Luckily, the twins spotted Mom’s car—and Chase, visible in the front seat—without any help. Marvin grabbed JJ by the arm and ran over, pulling him behind him. Mom smiled at them as they approached, and gestured to the backseat door. JJ opened it and climbed inside, Marvin following him shortly after. Happy birthday! he signed.

“Yeah, happy birthday!” Marvin added, shutting the door behind him. “We’ve been carrying your presents all day.”

“Presents?” Schneep repeated. “You did not have to—”

“We did! Presents are needed for birthdays!” Marvin insisted.

Schneep chuckled. “If you say so. I didn’t know we were picking you up.”

“Yeah, normally we’d ride our bikes to school but we talked Dad into dropping us off for the first day, on the condition that Chase’s mom drove us home once we were done,” Marvin said.

“It was no trouble,” Mom said. “Now let’s get on the road. Your friend Jackie is coming, right? Better hope we get home before him, wouldn’t want to leave him hanging.”

++++++++++++++++++++

They did get back home before Jackie arrived, but just barely. He knocked on the door not ten minutes after Mom and the four boys had pulled up. “Hi Ms. Walker,” he said when Mom answered the door. “Thanks for letting me come over. Is that... What’s that smell?”

“That would be the cake,” Mom laughed. “Please, come in.”

“Jackie! Hey!” Chase immediately ran over and hugged Jackie as soon as he stepped through the doorway.

“Whoa!” Jackie stumbled back, then laughed. “Hey, little man. Where’s the birthday guy?”

“In the dining room. Marvin and JJ are there, too. C’mon!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jackie glanced at Chase’s mom, who waved him ahead with a fond smile.

Chase led Jackie into the dining room. The table only had four chairs, so Mom had gotten two folding chairs out of the closet to add extra seats, making the space feel much fuller than it actually was. Schneep was sitting at one end of the table, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater, while Marvin and JJ sat along one side. Chase took the chair next to Schneep and across from Marvin, and Jackie sat down next to him. In the middle of the table was a cake with blue frosting, two tubs of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, and a stack of paper plates and plastic forks. “It’s the beanie boy!” Marvin shouted as soon as he saw Jackie. “He has arrived!”

“I’ve arrived!” Jackie repeated.

“Hi, Jackie,” Schneep said, looking a bit embarrassed. He clearly wasn’t used to being the center of all this attention and love.

“Hey, Schneep. I got you a present.” Jackie pulled a small gift bag out of his backpack and set it down on the table. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I tried to go practical, I guess. Let me know if you want something else.”

“No, I-I am sure it will be great,” Schneep said. “Besides, Aunt Jess got me three different presents already.”

“We got you a couple, too, remember?!” Marvin said.

Next to him, JJ held up a pair of similarly-sized-and-shaped rectangles, both clumsily wrapped in what was clearly leftover Christmas paper. Sorry about the wrapping, he said, setting them down on the table. We couldn’t convince Mam and Dad to buy new paper.

“It’s fine,” Schneep reassured him.

“And I got you something, too,” Chase said proudly. “So, what d’you wanna do first? Have cake and ice cream, or open them?”

“Ah... we can open presents, then,” Schneep said slowly.

“Did I hear presents?” Mom asked, poking her head into the room. “Just a moment.” She disappeared, then returned with a stack of four different boxes that had been sitting in the front room, all wrapped in blue paper with silver stick-on bows. “Here we are,” she said, setting them down next to Schneep’s chair. Then she walked around and took the only remaining chair at the end of the table. “Oh wait! I should get the camera.”

“If it’s okay, Ms. Walker, I brought my camera.” Jackie reached into his backpack again and took out a camera bag—the same one the boys had got him months ago for his birthday. “You can use it if you want, and I can give you the photos.”

“Oh! That would be great, Jackie,” Mom said. “But since it’s your camera, you can take the pictures.”

“You’re all delaying the presents!” Marvin said. “Schneep, open ours first!”

Schneep gave a little laugh. “A-alright. If you want.” He pulled the pair of presents towards him and began carefully unwrapping.

Don’t worry about tearing the paper, JJ said. It’s not like we’re going to use it again.

Another little laugh. Schneep went a bit faster, but still tried to be careful. When he was done, he was holding a pair of books.

“You like to read, right?” Marvin asked. “It looked like a lot of the books in your backpack were kinda the same, though, all nonfiction and stuff. I mean, obviously you like those, but we thought you might like new stuff too! So we got you books with stories! You know, fiction. The first one is from me, it’s really funny and it’s all about Greek mythology so there’s some fact stuff in there too, and the second one’s from JJ—you know, the thicker one? It has a bunch of puzzles and fun facts and the kids in it need to find the secret about this weird school called LIVE and it turns out—”

JJ shoved him. Spoilers!

“Oh right, right.” Marvin nodded. “Sorry.”

“I am sure I’ll like them both.” Schneep hugged the books to his chest. “Ah, Jackie? Can I open yours next?”

“Sure.” Jackie pushed the gift bag closer. “Like I said, it’s more practical than fun.”

Schneep took the tissue paper out of the gift bag, reached in, and pulled out a small case with a pattern of stars on its surface. “Oh! This is for glasses, ja?”

“Yeah.” Jackie laughed awkwardly. “I-I didn’t know if you had one, but I thought it might be useful. There’s also a special cleaning cloth inside.”

“I did not have one.” Schneep opened and closed the case a couple times. It made a satisfying clap whenever it shut. “Thank you, Jackie. Ah, Chase?”

“No, I wanna go last,” Chase insisted. “Open the ones from Mom first.”

“Ha. Alright, if you say so.”

The three from Mom weren’t all that interesting. A new pair of shoes, a desk meant to sit on your lap, and a toy jellyfish, small enough to fit in a single hand. Chase knew his present was better than all of those, and he wanted to end on a bang. Until, finally, it was time. Schneep unwrapped the big box it came in, confused and interested. And then it was revealed... a science kit, with supplies for all sorts of experiments like test tubes and beakers.

“Oh. Oh!” Schneep turned the big box over. His eyes were wide, and they looked even wider through the glasses. “This is—is—” He laughed. “Ich kann es nicht glauben! Chase, a-are you... sure? This is not a joke?”

“No way, of course it’s not a joke!” Chase had thought long and hard about it. He wanted to get Schneep something that was fun, but that was also smart, like him. “Do you... do you like it?”

“I do, I do!” Schneep laughed again. Then he glanced at Chase’s mom, and looked a little nervous. “But... would it not be messy...?”

“Of course it will, but that’s not a problem,” Mom reassured him. “Just do it in the dining room or the kitchen, okay? Someplace without carpet.”

“Don’t worry about Mom, she wouldn’t have let me get it if she wasn’t okay with it,” Chase said. Indeed, Mom had to be the one to buy it. It had cost twice as much as Chase’s allowance, he wouldn’t have been able to get it on such short notice. Mom had been delighted at the idea when Chase asked.

“I see.” Schneep nodded. “Well, thank you, Chase. Thank you a lot.” He started reading the back of the box, which included a list of possible experiments. Chase saw his eyes light up again.

“Alright, now it’s time for cake, isn’t it?” Mom said. “We don’t want the ice cream to melt. Clear the table. Put all the wrapping paper in this bag. I’ll go get the drinks from the fridge, and the candles.”

They lit twelve candles in the blue cake and sang Happy Birthday. Jackie took pictures, capturing Schneep blowing out the candles in a series of still images. Mom sliced the cake and poured soda into plastic cups, then took a slice for herself and went upstairs, letting the kids have some time to themselves.

They talked over cake and ice cream. Casually at first, about how school went (sucked to be back, most of them agreed) and about TV shows and video games. And then Marvin pushed his paper plate away. He suddenly looked more serious. “So, uh, this has been the first time we’ve all been together again in a couple weeks,” he said.

“Yeah?” Chase prompted. He had a feeling where this was going...

“Do we want to talk about...” Marvin lowered his voice. “The weird stuff?”

“You mean what happened at the church, ja?” Schneep said quietly.

“Yeah. I mean—we all saw the shadow guy become more like a real guy, didn’t we? Well, except for Jackie, he was knocked out.”

“I know you guys filled me in on the ride back home, but can you tell me again?” Jackie asked.

The four boys took turns relaying what had happened at the church a few weeks ago. How the dog had rampaged about until JJ threw a knife at it, cutting it slightly. And then the dog had shrunk, returning to normal. The shadow had appeared—Anti, as they now knew he was called. He looked more human, specifically his head and hands which were no longer semi-transparent darkness. And he’d been impressed with them. He asked them if they knew what the “greenlight” was, and said they were going to find out.

Greenlight has to be what’s causing all of the weird stuff, JJ said. It would explain why everything glows... well, green.

“That would make sense,” Chase muttered. “But then, where does it come from? And what’s going to happen with it? And what even is it, really? Some sort of magic? Or weird energy?”

“You said that Anti had a cut on his neck, right?” Jackie said.

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know... that just worries me.” Jackie’s voice was quiet.

“Maybe Anti’s a ghost,” Marvin said. “And he’s a ghost because someone... you know...” He drew a finger across his throat. “That was what it looked like to me.”

“In any case,” Schneep said. “What are we supposed to do about any of this? Is there anything we even can do? There is just five of us.”

“Uh...” Chase coughed. “Well. Sort of related to this. Do you remember how that day, we talked with a girl named Stacy? She, uh, sort of saw... us doing stuff with the dog... and said there was weird glowy stuff... and now she wants to know all about it. She, uh, says that if we don’t tell her in a week then she’ll tell everyone else.”

The others were quiet for a moment. Well, ARE we going to tell her? JJ asked.

“I don’t know! This is—this is our thing!” Chase said.

“Does not mean we cannot let new people in,” Schneep said.

“I know, but... but... why her?”

“Ohhh, I get it.” Marvin nodded slowly. “You don’t want to tell her because she’s friends with that girl you hate.”

“Well—yeah, that’s it!” Chase nodded. “Even if they stop being friends, I don’t know about anyone who’d be friends with Heather Westing. What if she turns out to be a jerk?”

“She seemed nice enough when we stopped on her lawn,” Jackie recalled. “Maybe a little annoyed. But that’s not a good basis to judge someone on. I would’ve been annoyed, too, in that situation.”

Do any of us have a problem with this girl knowing? JJ asked. Besides Chase. The other three all muttered various “no”s while Chase sat there with crossed arms. So I think it’s up to you, then, JJ said, looking at him.

Chase sighed. “Fine. Fine. I’ll think about it.” He really, really wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want Stacy to tell everyone, but he didn’t want anyone else to butt into their group. This was special. And he didn’t want to risk that being ruined. Still, he didn’t want everyone at school to find out about the weird “greenlight” stuff happening, either... 

“Enough of the serious tone,” Jackie said. “This is a birthday party, isn’t it? We’re here to celebrate.”

“Yeah!” Marvin nodded. “Happy birthday, Schneep!”

“And many more!” Chase added.

Happy birthday! JJ said, grinning. I hope it’s been great.

“It has been... very good so far.” Schneep had a small smile on his face. “In fact... I-I think this is the best birthday in my life.”

If his eyes were a little wet, nobody said anything. They wished him well, and stayed until the sky grew dark.

[endlesscrimson89]

FFXIV Write2023, Prompt 8: Shed.

[This time, different of my universes]

22nd October

I always loved cats, I admit. There's just something in their graceful shape that caught my attention. I prefer their independent nature as opposed to dogs. Not that I don't like dogs, mind you, I'm just definitely a cat person. 

Growing up, my brother and I weren't allowed to have pets. I mean, I think if we would want like a fish or a turtle, our parents would be fine with it - but as with many things, we both wanted a cat - and if we couldn't have it, we resigned ourselves to the 'no pets' policy. Only once a week, as long as I can remember, we would bother the staff at the small shelter in our town, later - as we were older - helping in it as volunteers throughout the summers and holiday breaks. 

(Before my life changed so drastically, I started to consider that after finishing high school, I might be tempted to pursue a further education in veterinary].

All of that, honestly, was caused by the fact that our mom is severely allergic to cat fur. Or to the fur in general, I suppose. Thankfully, we didn't inherit that from her (and all things considered, wouldn't that be awkward? xD), but for her sake, before coming home from the shelter, we would change clothes and wash there to not bring any fur on us and spike her allergies. 

Of course, back then, we had no clue that due to the inheritance on our dad's side, we're part Miqo’te... and, ignoring everything else, it's been a tad awkward for our family. 

Because Miqo’te shed... like: a lot. 

The topic came up one day while we were still extremely new to the whole idea of being an Allag. A day or two into our stay at the lair of shapeshifters, when we were chilling with Damon - alongside our respective boyfriends - in one of the guest nooks as the neutral ground, my twin jumped out with a question about their nest to Ares. I didn't even consider it to be in any way weird that ours as well, mostly consisted of furs until, with the usual curiosity, Damon asked his lover about the fact that the furs creating their nest are the exact same shade as our Alpha's ink-black fur. 

Ours, too, mind you, matches Senri’s perfectly, but I assumed that he simply created it - as anything else in our nook. Logical, yes? 

Well, I've been wrong. 

Overall, the whole thing led to us learning something new about what to expect from our new biology! 

It's autumn now, obviously, so we have some time to prepare ourselves - mentally, I guess - for the fact that, as Ares said with a careless shrug, around the time between spring and summer, they - Miqo’te - are shedding fur in fucking handfuls. 

I mean, considering our experience with normal cats, I guess that's not that surprising, right? Or at least, shouldn't be, but while I'm still getting used to the idea of not being exactly human... I admit it sounded a bit surreal. I know cats shed fur in preparation for the hotter temperatures, right? In relative to cats, for my brain, it's perfectly normal... I just have an issue translating that into thinking about myself, that's all. 

As we learned that day, there's actually a whole set of nooks deeper inside the lair dedicated to turning the heaps of fur achieved by that whole process into the pelts later used by the furs' owners for their nests. Senri, with his usual adorable cheer, announced that he couldn’t wait for the next year to add a crimson pelt to our nest... and I admit, my brain balked at the idea. I'm glad we have enough time to get used to it... But yeah, I can't help the fact that it sounds absurd to me. Damon simply nodded like it was something he already suspected, and I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case...

...but that made me wonder, what will we do about our parents? 

I mean, so far, we have been staying in contact with them via phone, calling them every day to reassure them that we're doing fine. We know that Ares designed two Seekers for watching our dad from a safe distance after he - though quite baffled by it, as he admitted - found that their fur aggravated our mom's allergy. For that reason, apparently, while watching them, the guards were taking a 'furless' shape, which I suppose is very considerate from their side. 

And I guess that's what we'll have to do whenever we think about visiting them, right? 

At some level, it amuses me to no end, I admit. You know... my mother is allergic to me now, and somehow, it feels like another day, I suppose. 

My life is weird, only getting weirder as time goes on, and by this point, I guess that's just another thing to get used to. 🙃 

[dreamin-in-green-and-black]

Day two! Cemetery!

I'm a touch better at posting it AO3 just if you're on the edge of your seat waiting xD

Nightfall

Cold earth pressed against the flimsy fabric of Severus’s trousers as he kneeled beside the pale grave. It was All Hallow’s Eve again. The day he rounded up his courage and visited cemeteries to apologize, pay his respects, and visit old friends. This was his last stop. The one that of course required the most courage. Albus never made things easy, not even in death.

“Bastard,” he whispered.

Affection managed to creep into the word, making it soft against the recent snowfall.

He set the pale blue bouquet of Delphinium against the tombstone. Severus had harvested them from his personal garden just earlier that day with some measure of delight after seeing them bloom a second time. The blue was just the right shade of mischief to match the late Headmaster’s eyes. It was why he had planted them in a fit of tears after the war. 

The blue caught the mid-day rays of light reflecting off the snow but against the white slab of stone, the blue was dark. It dimmed the absurd brightness of Albus’s grave.

“I’ve preserved them,” he said softly, gently rubbing a soft petal between his thumb and forefinger. “But they will die. I know how you detest permanently preserved plants.” He drew his hand away from the flower. “Detested.”

He covered one side of his face with his hand, unconsciously blocking himself off from Albus.

“Harry insisted I visit.”

Severus could almost hear the smiling response. “You were going to let an old man like me wither under my own thoughts?”

“You would hardly wither,” he grumbled. “He is doing fine. Well, even. Some nights he struggles with the nightmares, others he doesn’t sleep at all but…” 

Severus paused. “And how would you know what his nights are like, my boy?” It had been two years since he had last visited Albus. So much had changed. Nothing short of his whole life.

“Ah, no use keeping a secret. We will be bonded in December. He is teaching Defense at Hogwarts. I am…still Headmaster. Somehow the children no longer detest me. Tch. The Golden Boy hanging on my arm has permanently ruined my authority.”

He snorted. The sun was warm against his black robes. The past week had been unseasonably cold and it seemed at last, at Albus’s grave, he had found some sense of warmth.

“I have started an owl delivery potion service. It’s limited due to the demands of the school, but in the summer…” He tapped a nail against the tombstone. “You always wanted me to have more wealth. More security.”

Severus sighed. There was so much to tell and not nearly enough time. 

“So much has changed, Albus. Ms. Granger is with child, married to Mr. Weasley for four years now, fresh out of Hogwarts. Draco works for the Department of Mysteries and established a charity for muggle-born orphans, if you would believe that.” He inhaled the crisp air of late autumn, fresh with snow. “I am…happy. Rest assured you need to worry no longer.”

Grief flickered across his features. He pressed a hand to the slab of pale marble with a long breath. Six years now. It had been six years since he had been forced to kill Albus. His mentor, his friend. The man who stepped in as a father for so many years. The marble was freezing beneath his palm.

He stood abruptly, turning his back and moving several paces away from the grave and its flowers. At his side, his hands had gone into fists. His breaths were quick with sorrow as tears fell through dark lashes clenched shut.

“I still cannot forgive you.”

Severus took one step away from the grave when a familiar voice said, “I would not dream of it, Severus.” 

He turned sharply, looking over his shoulder fast enough to kink his neck. 

No one was there. 

[greypetrel]

For the very juicy prompt list (if you are taking requests!) What about 10. “You fucking lied to me and wasted my time, yet you have the audacity to cry about it and make it seem like it’s my fault things ended badly?” 

For whoever you think fits best !

You thought I forgot? Well I didn't! xD

I just had to turn the prompt around in my hands for quite some time, I had ideas but they never fit perfectly. Until it came the realization that it is peak Solavellan. So here, on a silver plate with a side of extra angst, enjoy!

Tis the prompt list

Severance.

[ Female Lavellan x Solas | 2262 words | Trespasser. Post-breakup scene. A most necessary confrontation. Not a happy reunion, no "Var lath vir suledin". Canon divergence. ]

10. “You fucking lied to me and wasted my time, yet you have the audacity to cry about it and make it seem like it’s my fault things ended badly?” 

Just one small step, and yet everything changed from one to the next.

A metallic sound, as she crossed the last eluvian, leaving behind roars and thunder and an ongoing battle, what had been her friends and what had been her sister, to find quiet.

A perfectly still and quiet afternoon on a ledge of rock gently climbing up in the shadow of a mountain, cool and shaded enough so that water puddles couldn’t evaporate. The grass was luscious and damp, and the very light told of rain. Stark and clear as it is just after a heavy summer rain, the sunset painting the forest in the distance, the mountains and hills in vivid greens speckled in the first autumn yellows. Now it was all golden.

Perfectly still and quiet as the statue of the Qunari, frozen in stone in battle snarls, throwing spears or raising swords and axes, that formed some sort of corridor leading forward and up to-

Radha ignored how eerie it was, and took advantage of it. Her hands hurt as she clenched her fists on the hilts of her daggers, both drawn, as she stepped to the side. No stoney Qunari seemed to mind if she used them to hide as she progressed. Steps quiet, eyes focused on the target, ears sharp to try and hear what they were saying.

The Viddasala spat something she couldn’t hear, and as she rose her spear, tall and fierce and terrible, something blinked blue in his eyes, and under Radha’s eyes her skin took a deeper shade of grey, her clothes solidified. A blink, a breath caught, and the Viddasala was stone too.

Which left her-

“I know you’re there.”

Solas.

Of course he knew.

Two years ago, she would have been flattered that he did. That no matter how much she could try and disappear in a crowd, make herself unperceivable, there to listen and observe, never to speak, he always seemed to notice her. He always seemed to mind her and what she thought. Prodded her for her opinion, as much as he loved to explain his own he had always attention for what she had to say.

Radha hated how it still made the butterflies in her stomach swirl and turn. It had a bitter aura to it, but-

No.

She schooled herself, clenched her daggers more, and stepped to the side, out of the shadow of a warrior brandishing a two-handed axe and into the corridor left.

Not saying anything, but saying enough with her eyes.

He was already looking at her, tall and dressed in armour. Different than she remembered and yes, beautiful. More at ease in his skin than he’d been in Skyhold, stepping towards her with otherworldly grace.

“It’s good to see you.”

He told her, with a bitter smile. She didn’t buy the emotion written plain on his face, subtle but there. She had spent a good year observing him, it was enough to read his expression. She didn’t care if he was remorseful. She couldn’t care.

She worked two years to be there, ran throughout half of Thedas, never stopping, exactly to be there. She couldn’t falter.

She said nothing at all.

“I was not expecting to meet you here.” He spoke, instead “I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me ever again after Crestwood.”

His eyes travelled down, down to her daggers still clenched tight in her hands. Blades naked and bloodied already. Radha didn’t flinch nor lowered them, and Solas frowned.

“But I see you’re not here to talk.”

“You used us. You’re killing her.”

A deeper frown, more remorse on his face. Radha’s blood boiled in her veins.

“If it helps, it was never my intention to involve either of you. If things had gone according to my plan-”

“-But they didn’t.”

“No, they did not.”

To his honour, he had the good grace to not step back as she stepped forward, daggers in hand. Ignore the pain that clenching her hands so tight brought. She knew her limits, that wasn’t it. Not yet. Not until she did what she had to. For herself, for Aisling, for what he broke and took away. For her family and the faith she had lost.

“Radha, if you would just listen-”

“I listened to you enough.”

“Can I just explain?”

“What’s there more to explain?” Radha snorted. “I may not be a Keeper, but my memory is just as good. You told me you’re the Dread Wolf.  You told me you plan on tearing the Veil down, even if it means casualties and the possibility of this world ending. What’s more?”

Something hardened in his expression, but his voice remained calm, poised as if he was explaining to a child that boiling water will hurt your fingers.

“The reasons. I didn’t want to upset you more, in Crestwood, but if you knew the full picture, I’m sure you would understand. You would agree, even, that-”

“You didn’t explain in the next two months in Skyhold.”

“I seem to recall it was you avoiding me. And after Corypheus, I couldn’t quite track your movements.”

No, he couldn’t. She travelled, in the last two years, on her own, looking for old ruins, libraries, anything that could give her any clue or hint on where to find him. She didn’t follow a clear path not to attract any attention, not only to avoid raising suspects over her research, but first and foremost not to let him know she was coming. It figured out, she thought.

“I only respected your wish, you didn’t want to see me. It hurt that you didn’t, but I understood. If now you would allow me the courtesy to speak, before raising your daggers, I would be grateful.”

She didn’t, in fact, gave him the time. The accusation made her blood boil, even more than it already was. If she could have been brought to listen, that was really not the right way for it. Not after a crazy rabbit chase in a maze, running away from the Viddasala and a group of Ben Hassrath. She had trained with the Iron Bull long enough to know exactly that she couldn’t hold herself up against all of them together, so she ran. Lost all her notes in the Library. And wouldn’t have made it there if it wasn’t for Aisling, who freed her when the Saarebas caught her. Aisling’s face - consumpted, pale, deep eyebags and the stark line of cheekbones that never showed up – would haunt her in her dreams: she owed her that. Owed her for allowing her to be there. She knew her sister like the back of her hand, and she saw that was the end of her line. All she could do was to clear all the Viddasala’s accusation from her, her work, avenge her death.

So, for herself, for Aisling, for their family, their clan that got targeted, their people that would get their chance by dying or being blamed yet again for the actions of a mage with evil overlord fantasies, for seven months of butterflies in her stomach and two years of misery and pain and betrayal, Radha rose her dagger, and flashed forward, slicing with one and stabbing with the other.

The slice was ducked, the stab collided with a barrier, but she didn’t step back. She grew up with mages, she knew how to fight a mage.

“You fucking lied to me and wasted my time, yet you have the audacity to cry about it and make it seem like it’s my fault things ended badly?” 

“I’m not the one attacking. Please, Radha-”

“No.” Crouch, side-step, keep close to him, don’t leave him space to cast, aim for the kidney. “Our clan almost died for your plans.”

“I’m trying to avoid that happening ever again.” Another barrier, he turned, she followed. He casted way quicker, way effortless than she was used to. “Elves too would benefit-”

“We would just be blamed for your actions. As the clan has been blamed for Aisling’s. They would hurt us to hurt you, in the end, you would hurt the People you’re trying-”

It was like the air solidified in front of her, and pushed. She saw strong winds on the coasts of Rivain, so strong the trees bent, their trunks grew close to the ground. She saw him mind-blasting enemies already. This was worse, and she was pushed physically behind, even if the tried to turn and offer her side to the wind. All that she could do was stumble, without falling.

“The Dalish are not my People.” He hissed, now positively angry. “I tried to reason with them, when I woke, they only shunned me like a madman. You’re all free because of me. And all I get is distrust and now this.”

It struck Radha. He had never been cruel, not even in breaking her heart and leaving her on her own. Never. And that…

“I love you, and you killed my sister.” Was all that came to her lips, as an answer.

It struck him too, his barrier came up just a second later, and it shattered just short of having her actually hitting him. Something in the back of her head sounded an alarm, her heart clenched still, but she listened not. She listened just to the rage, and to the memory of the Viddasala implying her sister was working for him, against their people -an idea she didn’t want to entertain- the memory of Aisling looking one step away from death, because of him. The first time she looked at herself in the mirror and saw her face without her tattoos. Because of him. He had the good grace of not answering, at least, so Radha could continue speaking, and lounge forward again. Another barrier shattered, but he stepped away in time.

 “I trusted you, I fell in love with you, you told me you loved me, and then left me after shattering my whole world.”

If another plotoon of Qunari had come running at them in that moment, she wouldn’t have noticed. It was two years she had those words stuck in her throat, and it felt good to finally tell him just so. She stroke him, but a scratch high on his cheekbone, It didn’t feel as satisfying as she thought it would have. It tempered her down a little, and him as well.

Radha stopped, breathing heavily but still refusing to let her eyes down, or let her daggers go. Her hands hurt, her grab on them trembling, and her eyes pricked with tears she didn’t want to shed. Not there, not in front of him. She could cry later. She had one last accusation to bring.

“I gave you my mother’s bonding gift.” She vomited still. “And you accepted it.”

If he had turned and asked her what did it mean, it would have been better. He didn’t accept it knowing what kind of gesture it was, he couldn’t know. That would have been better.

Instead, he just nodded and lowered his eyes, frowning deep but looking at her straight in the eyes. If that was pain what she saw, she didn’t want to consider it.

She could not.

“Do it.”

As simple as that.

What she had wanted, cemented day after lonely day in the last two years of resolutions. Salvation, for her and her people, revenge for Aisling. Revenge for herself.

She waited a moment, frowning in a silent question. He nodded, and close his eyes, raising his chin a little in a clear offering.

That was it, moment of truth.

The little voice in the back of her head screamed, but she heard it not. She had spent too much time thinking that that simple gesture would fix everything that still could be fixed. Not her sister, not her role in her clan, her faith or how elves were treated, not their missing history or what Morrigan having drunk from the Well of Sorrow could mean.

Her arm felt heavier than before, but she pushed it through. She had killed, many people, so many she had lost count. She wasn’t proud of it, and could live with knowing that it was all out of protection, for herself or for the people she loved. This killing wouldn’t have been different. Kill him, kill Solas, to save how many?

One step. Two step. Her dagger high.

She jumped, a scream coming out of her throat, half rage and half mourning, in advance.

First it was time slowing down, as if every moment lasted longer, so deep in concentration she was.

Then the sensation heightened: everything tinged in gold, and it was like falling through honey. She blinked, and she wasn’t moving as quick as before. She could see Solas, right in front of her, opening his eyes again to look at her, his mouth opening in realization.

He turned to the side, but Radha didn’t need to. She knew whose spell it was, and it hurt her even more than the man in front of her did.

She pushed, she pushed more, knowing that it was a complex spell, and in that state-

- The bubble broke, and she fell heavily on her feet, hit amiss. She didn’t turn to look at who was it, but she turned to look at Aisling’s face -haunted, tired, skinnier than she ever saw her, pale in a sickly manner, curling on her arm and screaming in pain.

“So it’s true. You are working for him”

[aquaburst3]

I’m bored. Instead of working on the next chapter of my fic, I want to take a bit of a break and do Jamil and Kalim’s birth charts and say what some interesting aspects of it means for their characters. Just for fun. 

Disclaimer: I’m not an astrologer, so some of the info might be off. This is according to astrology, so not everything will tie neatly back into their characters. (There is one example from what I can see seems OOC for Kalim.) 

Before we begin, these are some things that I took into account. 

The game came out in Japan on March 2020 and uses the English school year calendar. (Starts in the autumn and ends before summer in a general sense.) This means that the school year in universe would’ve started the year before in 2019, and the “new year” would be 2020. With this in mind, I made their birth years 2002 instead due to pushing back the clock a few years. (Since someone who is 19/20 now would’ve been 17 back in 2019/2020 depending on their bday.) 

Since birth charts depend on where you are born and their hometown doesn’t exist, I’ll be using Dubai as a stand in. 

Taking that into account, these are Kalim and Jamil’s birth charts...

Jamil Viper

Sun Sign: Libra  

Rising Sign: Virgo 

Moon Sign: Scorpio 

Some interesting tidbits we can glean from this... 

His Saturn and North node are on the Midheaven. People who usually have this placement in their birth charts mean that they are super insecure about achieving success and being criticized in work settings. 

Pluto on the nadir. This can make the individual intensely focused and extremely grounded in their inner power and hyper focused on goals. 

Uranus in Aquarius is in the sign of its rulership. Intellectual, progressive, and detached. 

The ruler of the 10th House (Mercury) in the 1st House. These people are ambitious and actively try to improve their social status.

This also means, at least according to astrology, that Danger Noodle is inquisitive and smart, trying to learn new skills and find connections in things. 

Most of the inner planets are located in the bottom hemisphere.

The top right quadrant is empty.

His 7th House Ruler is in the 3rd House. His future partner would be someone who’s witty and intelligent with good communication skills.  

His DK planet is the Venus. This means that his future partner would have Libra or Taurus as their Sun, Moon or Rising, or have either of those two as 2nd House placements. They would be artistic and luxurious. They would be psychically attractive. They’ll be diplomatic, social, balanced and fair-minded. They’ll also like to indulge him. On the other end, they can be judgemental and materialistic. Since his Venus is in the 3rd House, he will likely get a mixture of both, but leaning towards the positive.

Adding onto the previous point, he’s destined to marry rich. So, yes. He’s gonna live out Aladdin one day. (Which is funny in regards to my own “Yuu”, since she comes from a rich background back in her world. I think @thosebrookfieldgirls​​  would also get a kick outta that due to their own OC who they ship with Jamil being rich. Do with that information what you will Jamikali shippers, I guess.)  

Kalim Al-Asim 

Sun Sign: Cancer 

Rising Sign: Leo

Moon Sign:  Capricorn

Interesting tidbits we can glean from this... 

His birth chart is see saw shaped. Indecisive and interested in finding balance in life and relationships with others. 

Neptune is descending. (Not sure what this means) 

The Cardinal mode is dominant among the inner planets. Opportunistic, driven and ambitious. (Are we sure we didn’t get these mixed up with Jamil? xD) 

Being a Leo Rising, his ruler of the ascendant is the sun. This means that he can be indecisive, energetic and is often influenced by those around him. 

Uranus in the 7th House. This means that he might find a partner in a different person than he expected. On a possible downside, he might be prone to turbulent marriages. But he can manage this if he puts the effort in. 

His 7th House Ruler is the Moon, which is in the 6th House. His future partner is likely in a service oriented profession. Humble and practical, liking to help others. 

His DK planet is the Sun. His future partner likely has Leo as their Sun, Moon or Rising Sign or have Leo as their 5th House placement. Someone who is dependable, dedicated, ambitious, sturdy, loyal and confident. A true leader. Possibly someone famous. They also be egotistical, self centred, controlling and domineering. His Sun is in the 11th House, so he will likely get a combo of both. 

[star-lemonade]

The Altar

Ateez San x Reader

Genre: smut, candy shop au

Cw: smut, San likes it when you say his name

Rating: R

Word count: 5 k

Thanks to @yutasgalaxy​ for giving feedback. I changed a lot since you read it xD

“You should really go there.”

Your friend’s voice still rang in your ears. These words had been said to you so often lately. Your friend had heard good things about it, although you suspected it was first-hand experience. You felt frustrated about the lack of men in your life. It was hard to meet someone new and the few times you had actually met a nice guy, they had not been interested in you. Afterwards you felt the drought in your bed even more than usual. Maybe it was time. Time to go there. The Candy Shop.

You went to the address your friend provided. That was the first unusual thing. When you had looked for it online, you had not been able to find an address. How could there be a place that can not be found on the internet? The building was as mundane as a grey house between other grey houses could be. The entrance did not look like a shop either. The window next to the door was small and drapes obscured the view inside. Only the “open” sign at the door indicated that this was the right place.

You opened the door, and a bell announced your entrance to the empty room. It was a small space for a store, and it was filled to the brim with boxes. Boxes on shelves, boxes on the floor, in giant box towers, boxes hanging in nets from the ceiling. The oddest thing was their color; all of the boxes were the same warm grey. No writing. No pictures. How did anyone know what was inside the boxes? Maybe I’m wrong here? You turned to leave.

“Oh, there you are.”

The voice came from behind you and it sounded familiar. The woman looked exactly how you remembered her, Ms Lee, who had been your homeroom teacher in middle school. She wore a tie-dye tank top that showed off her wrinkly arms.

“Ms Lee?”

She smiled like a proud mother, not something you wanted to see in a sex toy shop. Her smile had always been an attractive feature of her. You could see why she had been the most popular widow at the school.

“No, dear. I’m the Owner.”

Even her voice sounded the same. At least you thought she sounded like Ms Lee. On the other hand it had been years since you had see her.

“Oh, excuse me.”

You could have sworn that she was your old teacher, but she was not. Good. Imagine running into your old teacher in a shop like this. Awkward.

“Ehm, I’m looking for something.”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed now. You had already entered the sex shop, but you still felt your face burn. If you act awkward, it will just be more embarrassing. Get it together! You were about to elaborate further when she said:

“Of course. I think I have just the thing. Follow me.”

How could the owner sound so confident, when you had not given her any information? She turned around and walked to the counter in the back of the shop, and you followed. Surprisingly the counter was not made out of boxes stacked on top of each other but from wood.

“Wait here, please.”

The Owner went behind the counter and left through a door. The side room too seemed to be filled with boxes, as much as you could see of it. You still wondered how she knew what was in each box. Did they all have the same things inside? Maybe there had been a shipment of something, and now it clogged up the place? She returned with a smile on her face.

“Here.”

She held the thing out for you, and without thinking, you took it from her. Why did you do that?

“A walking stick?”

The long wooden stick was knobbly and looked like it had been a small tree that someone debarked. It was not carved but it had grown relatively straight. The surface was polished and waxed, shining in the dim light of the shop.

“Yes. You should go and have a picnic.”

You stared at the stick and back to her incredulously. This must be a joke.

“But-”

“No problem,” The Owner waved you off. “That’s on the house. Have fun.”

She smiled before leaving through the door behind the counter. The lock clicked into place you were alone with your stick.

“...should I stick this in my butt or what?”

You shouted after her but the Owner did not return. Reluctantly, you left and went home.

That night you had a dream about your childhood house where your parents used to live. It was small and cozy in a tiny town near the mountains.

The mountains.

Yes, you missed going up the hidden paths to the tops of the small mountains. The forest that covered them had been your place to play when you had lived there. You had spent the years of your childhood running around in the undergrowth. In your dream the sun was shining from a bright blue sky that only came in autumn. You walked up the mountain as you had done many times. It was not clear to you if this was a memory or not but you almost felt the sun burn on your face. You reached the top of the mountain in what felt like a record time. Here stood a bench that overlooked the valley and your hometown. It was beautiful.

When you woke up, the dream had left a hole in you. You yarned for the home, that was not your home any more. You decided that you would go there.

Today. Now.

You got dressed, packed an overnight bag and ate a big breakfast. The ride to the town would take two hours, but you did not know if you would be able to return to your apartment in time. Hiking was exhausting and maybe you would be too tired to drive back to the city.

You grabbed the walking stick and went to your car. The drive was familiar. You had done it lots of times. Today the time flew and you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the only supermarket of your hometown.

Maybe I should get some food? I will be hungry when I’m up there. You looked at the mountain that barely classified as one. Today the air was humid and mist hung over the forest beyond the town limits. Thegrey sky looked about ready to release more on the land. You did not really pay attention to what you bought. The old man at the counter looked up and smiled. You paid and left the store.

The parking lot where the hiking paths started was empty. It had just rained and most people had stayed at home. You packed the food and drinks into your backpack.

The path was slippery and your shoes sank a few centimeters with every step. This made the hike much harder and slower than you had expected. You knew the path well, even after all this time, your body moved on its own now. Pulling one foot out of the mud and planting it further up the path. Repeat with the other foot. In the forest you saw some trees that had fallen over. This was always the case of course but they were different from last time you had been here.

Some time later you found yourself at a bench, and stopped there to drink something. The next part would be a bit steeper so you pulled out the walking stick.

The ground was wet and the path was getting muddier the higher up you went. Maybe I should take a short cut to the top? If you went straight through the trees here, you would be there faster than following the path. You were impatient today and turned left into the forest.

The ground here was less muddy but you had to step more carefully. Holes in the ground could be hidden by dead leaves and small plants. Breaking your ankle in the middle of the forest did not sound like a good idea. The forest smelled of the herbs that grew all over the place. You considered picking some of them, but you were not sure which ones were really eatable. Ahead the trees grew less dense.

In the glade you saw something and walked closer to check it out. It was a slab of stone that was overgrown by moss and vines. You examined the stone closer and you noticed the top was smooth and the sides were covered in patterns. It was not an ordinary stone; It was an altar.

The altar of a forgotten deity. Lost in the forest and being consumed by nature without the care of the believers.

I don’t believe in gods, but it feels like I should pay my respects. You never know.

You set your backpack down next to the altar and picked up a stick that was lying on the ground. The moss grew mostly on the sides which would not be easy to clean but the top should be easier. You used the stick to scrape off the vines and grime that had accumulated there. It did not come off well but at least the altar looked a bit better than before. You drank some water from your bottle and looked into your backpack.

Maybe I should leave some offerings too?

You picked up a leaf and used it as a makeshift plate for the rice. The red apple and one of the little desserts would have to do.

“Have a good day.”

You returned to the car without having been to the top. It was still light outside so you decided to drive back to your apartment. You felt exhausted but you really wanted to sleep in your own bed.

When you arrived the sun had set and you were about to fall asleep. You fell into your bed and passed out, sleeping like the proverbial stone.

The next day was Sunday which was good. No work. No need to get out of bed either.

You showered, made yourself a quick breakfast and got back under your warm blanket. Sunday morning was the perfect time to do nothing. You turned on the tv and continued to watch the drama you had started the prior week.

The couple got together in this episode and it made you feel so single. Seeing them kiss on screen made you miss kissing. Yeah, just kissing. What a lie. You paused the video. Maybe I should watch some porn instead? It still bugged you that your trip to the Candy Shop had been so fruitless. Why did you get a walking stick? The stick. You had not taken it with you. It was probably still next to the altar in the forest. Ah, well, my dildo will have to do. Getting off with it was nice, but it was not the same as having sex with a guy. For a moment you thought about the pretty male lead in the drama. How nice it would be to run your hands over his face and body. Sadly, this was not very realistic. I will go on tinder on Monday.

“Is it too much to ask for a cute, caring boyfriend to have hot sex with?”

You groaned and looked at the ceiling as if that was where your fate would be decided. It did not answer.

“That’s your wish‽”

You almost jumped out of bed. The voice came from your right, the side of the bed that had just been empty. It was not anymore. The man blended into the white sheets with his white clothing. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“What the fuck?!” You shouted. “How did you get in here? Who are you? Get out!”

You backed away. There was no bed left behind you. You fell over backwards but did not hit the ground. Your hand was caught in an iron grip.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

The man pulled you back into the bed. It brought you close to him. He had long hair that was tied at the top of his head. Something you expected to see in a historical drama not in your bedroom. He had a stunningly beautiful face. Intense eyes, full lips and a sharp jawline.

Why are all hot guys psychos?

“Let go!”

“You will fall again.”

His voice was so gentle it made your heart skip a beat. It was familiar, like a deja vu. This was not someone you had met before, but it still seemed like you knew him. Get it together, the guy broke into your house, don’t be lulled in by his looks.

“How did you get in here?”

You did not know what to do. He held your wrists in his hands, but you backed away as far as possible. Was he going to do something to you?

“I followed you. Yesterday.”

He said it as if it was the normal thing in the world. You stared at him, open mouthed. He had been here since yesterday? Your blood turned to ice. His grip was still holding your wrists. If he had not you would have fallen out of bed now.

“You cleaned the altar so nicely it woke me up from my sleep. It’s been ages since anyone left an offering there.”

The altar. How did he know about that? There had been no one there aside from you.

“Let me go and leave.”

He stared into your eyes. Nothing was hidden from that stare. You wanted to look away but could not. As if hypnotized you stared into his eyes. They were not brown as you had assumed, but a very dark green, like the pine trees at night.

“That’s not what you wished for.”

He kissed one of your hands. His lips were soft but the gesture sent a shiver down your spine. Some part of you was responding to his touch while your higher reasoning was screaming to get away.

“Who are you?”

Your voice was only a whisper, but in the quiet room it was as loud as a scream. He looked at you, reading your face like a book. You did not know if it would be better to show your fear or hide it. What would make him leave?

“I am the mountain.”

He puffed out his chest a bit as he said that. The mountain. What kind of name was that? You had known everyone who had lived in your hometown and no one was called San. Maybe he was a tourist who happened to be in the forest? Then it struck you. The altar. The mountain, San. This man was not a man at all. He was the god of the mountain and you had brought him to your home. That’s what you get from being nice, an uninvited guest. Great.

“And I decided to grant your wish.”

You were not ready to process any new information, but here he was, talking. Was it even possible that this man was the god of the mountain? No one had seen you in the forest. You had been alone yesterday evening and just now when you had made breakfast, the door had still been locked. So unless he broke into your apartment just now… no, you had not heard or seen anything out of the ordinary.

“You doubt me.”

San was clearly disappointed in your lack of faith. He stared at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. You had every right to be suspicious of some random dude who claimed to be a god.

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly and looked around your bedroom. The little pout on his face made him look cuter and less scary, but he was still plenty scary. He let go of your hands and left the room. Maybe I should run for it. You sprang from the bed and in a few steps you were at the bedroom door. Where you almost ran into San. He was both taller and shorter than you had expected. Just like the mountain. His legs were longer than usual for someone his height.

“Here.”

In his hand was the basil plant you had bought a few days ago. It did not look too hot. The leaves had started to hang down and some were already crumpeling.

“Yeah, I should throw it out...”

San was appalled.

“But it’s still alive!! Look!”

He stared at the plant and it became healthy again. With your mouth open you stared at the plant. Its leaves were full and beautifully green again. The smell of basil filled the room.

“So you believe me now?”

The smug smile on his face was almost too much. You nodded reluctantly. San brought the plant back to the kitchen, while you sank down on the bed. There is a deity in my apartment. San sat down on the bed next to you.

“So, what was my wish?”

What dumb shit have I wished for? A smile so mischievous it made the hairs in your neck stand appeared on his face. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear:

“Hot sex.”

Oh fuck. The reason why you had gone to the Candy Shop had been to get something nice for you. It had been so long since you had been with someone. Sex with a good looking guy sounded so good. San was here and he was offering to give you what you wanted. But wait.

“Didn’t I say “a cute boyfriend”?”

San pursed his lips. “Technically, you did. ‘Cute and caring’”

“So, then where is my boyfriend?”

You pushed your jaw forward in a defiant manner. If you were going to get your wish, it had to be the right one. There was no way he could just make a guy appear out of thin air, could he?

“Am I not cute?”

The fake outrage in his voice was indeed cute, but hell would freeze over before you would admit that.

“What? Are you saying you will be my boyfriend?”

He stared at you and you stared back. It was totally absurd. San could not seriously mean he would be your boyfriend, right?

“Yes.”

You honestly did not have a comeback to that. San had said it like he meant it. I guess he didn’t have to make someone appear out of thin air after all. He is already here.

“Can I change my wish?”

You did not look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you. It had been a mistake, actually several mistakes. You should not have gone to the mountain, or cleaned the altar.

“Do you dislike me this much?”

San sounded almost hurt. What had he expected? That you would just lay down and spread your legs?

“You just showed up here, unannounced. What am I supposed to-“

You stopped yourself. Maybe it was not a good idea to yell a god. It was unclear what he could do besides making plants grow and looking good. San shifted beside you and when you looked at him, he lay on your bed.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?”

He looked up at you. In that position, one arm probed up holding his head, he reminded you of the old timey rich people lounging on chairs.

“Why do you want to grant me a wish anyways?”

He hesitated. You had asked a sensitive question.

“I am in your debt.”

“Then make me rich and rest peacefully that you have settled your debt.”

You turned more towards him. He pressed his lips together into a thin line. You had to be careful now with your tone. One wrong word now could have bad consequences, so you just looked at him.

“I can’t do that.”

He pressed the words out and avoided your eyes. The fabric of the sheets was suddenly much more interesting. You wondered if he was telling the truth. Why was he insisting on this stupid wish you had made.

“What is in it for you? If you tell me honestly, I will consider it.”

His eyes flickered to your face before studying the sheets again.

“I can leave the mountain.”

He told the bed. “No one believes in me anymore...”

You wondered what the consequences of that were, but now was not the time to ask. So if he played house with you he could stay out here, instead of being alone in the forest. You were sick of being alone too. All the times you had felt lonely, may come to an end now, if you just said yes to San.

“If I said yes, what would happen?”

He tried to hide his relief, his hope, but failed. A smile appeared on his face. San sat up and his eyes sparkeled with delight and mischief.

“I would grant the more pressing part of your wish first.”

You wrinkled your brows. The more pressing part? He leaned closer and whispered in a velvety voice.

“You want to be licked, to ride on a big cock and be pounded until you come. That's the pressing part.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Yes, that was exactly what you wanted. In that order. He looked into your eyes. The more you looked at him the more beautiful he became. Just this once you did not want to overthink everything.

“So, what do you say?”

“What will happen after that?” You could feel his breath on your neck. His lips brushed over your skin. You swallowed audibly.

“I will do anything you want me to do.”

To make his point he kissed your neck. Gently sucking on the sensitive skin there. You move your head to grant him better access. His lips on you made your head spin already. Who would it be if they were somewhere else?

“Okay.”

You sighed and bit your lips. It was time to embrace this weird situation and be bold.

“Eat me out, San.”

He groaned against your skin, when you said his name. His lips landed on yours and he wasted no time. His tongue begged for entrance, sliding over your lips. You were not sure what you had expected, but you were surprised by how normal his mouth felt. San was warm and smelled of the forest after rain.

Your hands buried themselves in his long hair. You thought about untying it but it would be better to wait a bit longer. His Hands slipped under the hem of your pajama pants and between your legs. You gasped as his fingers touched your clit and slipped into you briefly.

“Apparently I will have to do a bit more to get you riled up, my love.”

San smirked at you and positioned himself between your legs. He made sure that he had your attention before he untied the fastings of his jacket. He did not wear anything under it so you had an unobscured view of his body; and what a nice body it was. The way his upper body tempered towards his waist was breathtaking. You wanted to touch him, ran your hands over his body. Right now was not the time though.

He pulled down your pants and kissed your thighs. San did not waste time and went straight to the point. He sucked and licked your clit, slowly circling it before flicking it with his tongue. You grabbed his hair and he smirked against your skin. His tongue moved down, ran around your entrance and dipped in briefly before moving up again. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your moan quietly. You wanted to close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling of tongue flicking against you, but you also wanted to see him. He slowed the pace down and licked your clit. You felt his fingers circling your entrance before pushing in. The two fingers barely met any resistance and after a few more slow movements he pulled out.

He kissed the inside of your thighs and you groaned. That was not where you wanted his mouth to be.

“How about you ride me now?”

He looked up at you expectantly. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was giving you puppy eyes.

“You’re pretty eager.”

It was only half a joke. You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I am.”

Damn. I guess the immortal god of the mountain is not so selfless after all.

“Lie down.”

He was about to take off the jacket but you stopped him.

“Keep it.”

The way it revealed his chest and abs without being completely shirtless looked very sexy. San lay down on his back and you straddled his hips. The tent in his pants made it very evident how much he wanted this. You ran your hands over his chest and loved how his skin felt. It still seemed surreal that he was there, in your bed. Like a dream. But it was not a dream. He felt as solid and real as one could get. You leaned down to kiss his neck. It was so graceful. This close to him you could see the faint freckles on neck, that made him even prettier. You lightly sucked on the spot midway down his neck. He sighed and goosebumps appeared on his soft skin. You looked at his face to see him looking back at you.

“You’re very pretty.”

There was a part you wanted to make a joke out of it a la “you need to get your eyes checked” but you didn’t. It did not sound like a joke.

“You too, Mr Mountain.”

He smiled at the nickname. His hair was not as neat as earlier. You had tucked on it, while he had eaten you out and now some parts of the hair stood out more. Not many hairs had come loose completely though.

“Can I untie your hair?”

He reached for the tie and released it. How could he look any more stunning? With his long hair spilling over the pillow. He smirked up at you. It was very annoying that San knew how much he affected you.

“Are you motivated enough to ride me now?”

Yes, you were very motivated now. You pulled down his pants. It was going to be very fast, judging by his girth. You aligned yourself above him and let yourself sink down on him. The stretch made you gasp. His hands came to rest on your hips. You could still move freely, so it felt like he needed something to hold on to. You gingerly rocked your hips and heard San sigh beneath you. His fingers pressed into your hips. Moving your hips was the only thing you wanted to do now. You felt so full and so close already. Maybe him between your legs earlier was the cause of that. You leaned back and the changed angle made him press against your g spot. Every move sent waves of pleasure through your body.

San sat up and looked into your eyes. A light blush had appeared on his face. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he closed the distance. The kiss made your heart flutter and clench around him. He kissed down your neck to your chest. Your hand flew to his hair when he took one nipple in his mouth. He sucked and circled it with his tongue.

“Say my name.”

It sounded like a plea. His mouth was on the other nipple now while his hand came up to continue. You moved your hips as much as possible with him sitting up. The light biting and twisting of the nipples send electric shocks to your core.

“Oh, San.”

It felt a bit odd to say that but San hummed against your chest, doubling his efforts. Your hand grabbed his hair tighter and you rock your hips fast. So close. He bit down a bit harder at just the right moment to make the wave of pleasure came crashing down. Without realizing it you muttered his name over and over.

A few more movements and your hips came to a hold. San wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. You sank against him and he held you. Your breathing calmed down as you enjoyed being held. He was still inside you and it felt so intimate that you wanted to lighten the mood with humor.

“So, am I going to birth a tree now?”

San chuckled and kissed your shoulder.

“That’s not how that works.”

You smiled against his shoulder as his hands rubbed your back.

After a quick shower, you and San returned to your bedroom. You put on a t-shirt and sweatpants. San lay on the bed waiting for you. When you looked he spread his arms, waiting for you to fall into his arms. You could not help yourself but smile. He really was cute. You sank into his arms and he kissed the top of your head.

“What you wanna do now?”

You asked his chest. It was nice and warm in his arms. Would it be rude to fall asleep now? Your eyelids felt so heavy, it was hard to keep them open. You were not sure if he ever answered because you drifted off to sleep so fast.

And that is how you got yourself a boyfriend that had been a minor god for some time. The plants in your house never withered and from time to time you would visit your town. The altar was still there, in the middle of the forest, slowly being assimilated by nature, but San always went back to the city with you.

For that one person who forgot, 'San' literally means mountain in Korean XD

I'm willing to write some more episodes in this universe, so if you have a request (idk San meeting your friends for the first time or something like this), send me an ask :))

[murfeelee]

End of Year Collage - Best of 2021

Rules: Find your fave pics of your story or your blog in general and post them up in a collage! :D it can be 1 picture or 100 whatever you want. But just reflect on your fave moments in your story or on your blog. It can be cute moments or pictures you’re just really proud of.

I did this last year and decided to make one for 2021, to celebrate simming, the one source of joy I got out of this crapfest of a year.

I did not sim much this year, so some months have no entries, which saddens me. Hopefully I’ll have more free time this year.

MY THOUGHTS (for each month) under the cut:

January: Misty’s Esoterica

My mission in 2021 was to do A Year of Cyberpunk. I uploaded at least one C2077 set every month, and dried doing as much gameplay as I could before school started in autumn. By far the most well received gameplay post I made (all dang year, in fact) was the very first one, for Misty’s Esoterica, with almost 100 notes, which is bonkers. I’m so glad y’all liked it! ^_^

February: C2077 Gangs Pt3: The Mox

Out of all my C2077 Gangs posts (Tyger Claws, Voodoo Boys, Moxes & Wraiths), y’all really seemed to like the Moxes the most. It’s so insane to me how C2077 doesn’t let us join any gang except those rusty dusty Aldecados, when there were plenty of other gangs people resonated more with, ironically enough. Frikkin sad. 

March: The Mists of Avalon

I was back on my Witcher BS in March, as I finally got around to finishing the swan boat conversion--it only took like a year or more. XD

April #1: Spirited Away to Green Isle

April #2: Dragon Boat Festival 

For April I returned to one of my absolute favorite CC worlds, Crowkeeperthesimmers’ Green Isle. The plan is to turn it into a Sino-Japanese faeryland based on all my favorite myths and folklore. But for April I kept it light, and just did some Spirited Away gameplay, and tested some CC.

May: I didn't post any gameplay in May, so I used two April posts instead.

June #1: Nagron & Bartros C2077 AU - Pride 2021 PtA

June #2: CQL/MDZS Prequel 1a: The Yiling Patriarch

June was dedicated to my C2077/Spartacus AU gameplay. It was 100% inspired by Pretty Woman, cuz I frikkin love that movie, and it’s a really good fit for Nagron, since in canon Nasir was a sex/body slave, and in C2077 the Moxes are sex workers. As soon as I saw the Moxes in C2077 I knew I was going to do my Nagron gameplay, and I like how it turned out. <(^_^)> Once I finished that, I started my The Untamed gameplay, which I REALLY need to return to, omg.

July #1: Farm Sweet Farm - Part 3 🐑🐐

July #2: Yoru no Machi Pt4 - The Bug: Operation Daemon

July was mostly dedicated to getting my Untamed gameplay going, but crazy enough the posts y’all liked the most were from my Sakura & Ryuu 007-wannabe time-traveling C2077 AU hijinks, and me letting Nagron try out GPL’s adorable Sheep Mod. :3

August #1: No Save Point - Run the Jewels

August #2: CQL/MDZS INSP - Gusu Arc Pt4b: HanGuang-Jun

August was The Worst (TM). Not only did I relocate to another state & new school (which I’m not crazy about so far TBH, my department is a mess--thanks, corona >_<), but Tumblr banned me over that whole site-that-shall-not-be-named craziness. At least I had time while I was waiting to hear back from them to do my No Save Point post, with more gameplay of Sakura & Ryuu going around in my C2077 AU causing problems. Another post I was particularly proud of was my Hanguang-Jun post for The Untamed, which I had hoped to post during Hanguang-June Month, but just didn’t get around to in time. U_U 

September: I didn't post in September, so I used two July posts instead.

October: Sakura & Ryuu: Meiker INSP Simblreen

I didn’t do a thing this fall, as I was busy back in hell--I--I mean school. Sakura & Ryuu were all over the place this year, I don’t know why. :P

November: I didn't post in November, so I used two August posts instead.

December: Happy (Belated) Birthday, Magnus Lightwood-Bane!

I missed Wei WuXian’s birthday in October, and then I went and missed Magnus Bane’s birthday in December, too. I was so disappointed. But I decided that it was better to do my Magnus post late than not at all. He’s my husband, okay?

__________________________________________________

Thank you everybody, followers, mutuals, lurkers, and all simmers who continue to support me and The Sims 3, and like my content!

Happy Simming, and Happy New Year!

[jackson-t-escobar]

Call it magic

 ~ Chapter I ~

Pairing: Ivar x Heahmund (Modern!AU)

Word count: 1.1 k

Summary: How to deal with a breakup? Ivar still doesn’t know, even after a few months. And when he meets his ex again one day, the chaos is perfect - between immature brothers, sex with the ex and the decision whether to forgive or to forget.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fun, smut, fluff, family bonds, brotherly love, age difference, jealousy.

If you want to be part of the tag list (or be removed, doesn’t matter xD), just send me a DM. I will not post this on AO3, this will be a tumblr story only. I hope you enjoy this!

@youbloodymadgenius​ @jadelynlace​

Ivar stared out the window, watching people scurrying past with umbrellas or something else over their heads to escape the thick drops. They were almost all running, and the street was slowly filling with the cold water - the lights of the cars reflected in the rain, almost bathing the surroundings in a magical, warm atmosphere. Ivar was glad to be inside - his fingers clawed more fiercely into his hoodie, and he rested his chin lightly on his folded forearms while his blue eyes followed the drops on the window.

It had been a few months since Heahmund and he had parted ways. And although Ivar had enjoyed the time off for a very long time, really letting off steam - he was slowly getting to a point where it didn't seem to be going any further. It was now autumn, and the days were increasingly overshadowed by rain and cold; the time when you sat in front of the fireplace in the evening with your partner, in front of the TV, watching Netflix. Autumn days were cuddling, baking cakes and cookies, watching the bad weather. Preferably with a warm arm around the middle of your body, pulling you closer as soon as there was even a slight shiver at the thought of being outside.

The breakup had only really hit Ivar consciously a few weeks after the actual breakup. They had been together for almost a year, but not publicly - since Ivar had still been 17 at the time, and not even close to being of age. It had been best to lie in bed with Heahmund in the evening, while Hvitserk - the only one who had known - had covered for him. Had told their parents lies about why Ivar was gone so often on weekends. And why his grades had gone down just before he graduated from high school, because he had only had the older man on his mind all the time. Heahmund had been 30 when it had ended.

"Hey, do you plan to watch TV like a normal person again sometime, or is someone out there running around naked?" his brother Hvitserk's voice interrupted the silence; Ivar didn't flinch, but cursed inwardly because he had bitten his lower lip slightly when he was startled. He did not say anything at first, but tried to remove his slightly sad expression from his face. After all, Hvitserk didn't necessarily have to know that he'd hit rock bottom once again.

"I like to look outside. Of course, you uneducated cretin don't understand that because your IQ also only lasts from morning to noon," Ivar said quietly; he released the clasp from his hoodie and with a casual movement turned to Hvitserk, who also sat down on the wooden floor with his younger brother.

For a moment they looked at each other, then Hvitserk snorted softly. "Is it still because of him? You need to forget about him for once, honestly."

"How am I supposed to forget him, huh? Unless you mean your tip that you use 90% of the time," Ivar snarked, and Hvitserk raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"Fucking is the best cure for everything, Ivar. Headaches? Fucking. You're late? Never mind, one more round will do. You actually have to work? Lay the colleague." he said, amused, and Ivar rolled his eyes with a slight click of his tongue.

"I'm surprised you get so many women anyway. They must smell your stupidity - stupid fucks well, as we all know. It almost can't be anything else."

"Ah, is that so? And you?"

"Me?" Ivar said quietly; his gaze went back out the window for a moment, then he sighed softly. "I've been trying out, haven't I? You know that, too. But somehow... somehow, they're all... shallow. And stupid, like you."

 "That's no reason to mope, after all, when you can blow something else," Hvitserk said, earning a juicy kick from Ivar against his upper arm in return, which he merely commented with a slight "Ouch!" and a laugh, while Ivar himself couldn't help grinning. Sometimes his brother was really annoying, but his big mouth usually managed to get Ivar back on track. Or at least distract him for a few moments.

"What do you say... We go out for dinner and figure out where we can get drunk to death this weekend. Okay?" Hvitserk suggested, and Ivar took a deep breath in and out.

"Mom will kill me if I still don't know what I want to study after this weekend."

"Dude, I've got a cure for that: fucking a professor."

"Hvit, man. Be serious for once!"

"We'll do it when we drink. That's the best idea, that way we can do both in one go. Ha! Call me genius, my little brother."

Ivar rolled his eyes but slammed into Hvitserk's hand. His incisors dipped slightly into his lower lip again, and Hvitserk snorted softly.

"What was so great about him, please? Besides you being into dilfs, which is really disgusting. Forget him, he broke up with you on fucking Valentine's Day. What guy does something like that?"

For a moment, that sentence hit Ivar deep in the heart. He had repressed that day well all these months, but he couldn't forget it. Deeply it had been burned into his mind; he had planned so much for that day, had wanted to surprise Heahmund. But all he had gotten was an ice-cold breakup on the grounds that he hadn't been sure how he felt. And it had been Ivar's hate day ever since - never again would he feel good about Valentine's Day, and was already planning to poison happy couples in the park. He hadn't been able to explain to his mother why he had cried constantly through two weeks, and why he had hardly eaten anything in the evenings. Even his other, almost terroristic brothers had sensed something, and had left him alone that week.

"All right. You're right. The last time I saw him was a while ago, anyway," Ivar said, letting Hvitserk help him to his feet; and it wasn't until he was standing that he grinned slightly as Hvitserk's warm hand passed lightly over his shoulder.

"Exactly. He's probably grown fat, and much older. You won't recognize him if you ever meet again - unless Gandalf the Grey is suddenly standing in front of you on the dance floor, asking you for a drink."

For a moment the brothers stared at each other, then they both snorted and laughed. It was painful, yes - especially because it was the first time he had been truly in love. But it had to go on, and somehow Hvitserk was right - even if most of his suggestions and advice ended up with having sex with someone somewhere. Ivar took one last look outside before following Hvitserk into the kitchen; the streets outside were almost deserted, and the lightning of thunderstorms could be seen behind the city's skyscrapers. Oh, how Ivar loved autumn.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request. 

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE* 

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.”  Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.”  The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.”   Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

[spockandawe]

What are your favorite chinese webnovels? What are some of the differences youve noticed between cnovels and other types of novels?

That second question is really, REALLY interesting, and I really want to answer it well, and I am REALLY sure I’m going to do a bad job of answering it, so let me just noodle about that first question for a minute while I try to think XD

I went through some of my TOP-top favorite novels in more detail yesterday, but generally speaking, mxtx and meatbun are both at the top of the pack. They’re really good at writing compelling main characters and balancing piles of angst with plenty of humor and pulling everything together into a very satisfying ending (which is something I don’t alwaysssss see, even in some of the novels I really like). After them, The Disabled Tyrant’s Pet Palm Fish (transmigration, ancient chinese prince falls in love with pet fish) and Golden Stage (ancient chinese gay arranged marriage between bitter enemies(?)) are two novels that I love a lot, which both have very cute romances and go a bit lighter on the main character suffering front, and which I broadly recommend to anyone who’s interested in the genre. They didn’t end stick the landing QUITE as hard as an svsss or tgcf, but they still were very nice.

Then, let me see. I’m trying to remember which books I’ve read in the last year, and am doing a terrible job, haha. I will say that a book I enjoyed for like... eighty percent of it and then the ending let me down terribly was The Dreamer In The Spring Boudoir (modern day career woman transmigrates into barely-fantasy ancient china novel as the disliked primary wife of a nobleman), which is also the only straight webnovel I’ve read so far. The main character and romance were delightful, but that ending... haha, wow, I felt betrayed. But I did like the first half very much!! I’m idly contemplating a deliberately-partial reread. Then I’m currently like two chapters away from catching up with the current translation of The Wife Is First (ancient chinese prince lives out time travel fixit fic, determined to treat his spouse better this time around). I’m also catching up on Heroic Death System (transmigration, across MANY universes, where the goal is to die heroically in each one, and also maybeeeee to find his boyfriend in each one. this shit gets fucking bananas. in one of them, he emotionally seduces his boyfriend while he’s a dolphin. in another one, he’s a sentient mushroom. i’m in the middle of a section titled ‘I Am An Evil Pen’. yes, like a writing utensil type of pen. this is the weirdest book I’ve read so far). Oh, and Thousand Autumns (righteous sect leader gets sabotaged and loses a fight, wakes up blind and amnesiac, demonic sect leader is like ‘lol i bet i can turn him evil’ and accidentally catches feelings along the way).

What else... I’m keeping up with (but behind on) some others. First, there’s How To Survive As A Villain (modern terminally ill CEO transmigrates into stallion novel, wakes up as villain, accidentally seduces hero). Then, we’ve got Transmigrating Into The Body Of The Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Childhood Friend (only modern webnovel I’ve read, young man transmigrates into beginning of gratuitous whump book, back in high school, and is determined to protect the protagonist from all the canonical suffering). Then there’s Pulling Together A Villain Reformation Strategy (guy transmigrates into story as the hero’s childhood friend who will eventually become his enemy and get killed, successfully acts out his part and dies, completely fails to realize he’s broken his friend’s heart in the process... and then wakes up in another character’s body). And then there’s The Villain’s White Lotus Halo (a transmigrator keeps bouncing from universe to universe as a cannon fodder villain, who gets like half a line before being killed. he tries to purchase an upgrade package so he can be a COOL villain instead, but accidentally gets sold a ‘white lotus halo’ package instead, so that no matter what he does, everyone is just DEEPLY moved by his appearance and is positive he did nothing wrong). All of those are EXTREMELY delightful. You may notice a running transmigration theme, which....... yeah, I think there are a TON of delightful stories in the webnovel scene that deal with this genre, which seem so rare in English language media.

Which makes a good transition point to what’s different about the cnovel scene! I’ve seen hardly any transmigration stories in English, and I’ve got a couple go-to examples for when I’m trying to explain it, but like. Only a couple. Which is such a shame! Like, there’s the default idea of ‘I was reading this book and then I woke up inside the book!!’ but it’s clearly such an established genre that people are playing with it in all kinds of interesting ways, like in The Villain’s White Lotus Halo or Heroic Death System setups. It’s kind of wild to me, because it seems like such a gimme for a nice easy story structure? Whatever kind of world you want to present, there’s no need to introduce it to the reader from the ground up, or find a good way to hook them in. Either the main character read the book in question and can explain the premise and why we should care in pov, or the main character is new to the universe too, and trying to find their own footing. I enjoy it a lot! I’ve sampled transmigration books that didn’t grab me, but I’ve sampled way more that did. 

And then, the one semi-technical answer I thought of to this question was the way that these novels tend to handle pov. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that regular novels are restricted to one pov, or that pov can only change at hard breaks in the story, but if I saw a bog-standard american novel glide from pov to pov the way these novels regularly do, I would tend to wonder if it was sloppiness or a mistake, or I would grump to myself about how I don’t like omniscient third person pov. And I still don’t know exactly what I think about this, or why it’s different in here, but I’m pretty sure I like it a lot, especially for stories where the romance tends to play a large part :V 

I used to read a lot of Books About Writing, and read plenty of stuff about why you don’t DO this, but.... I like it! In dtppf, Jing-wang can’t talk, and when Li Yu is a fish, he can’t talk, and drifting from one of their perspectives to the other gives me lots of useful information about how they’re both feeling. Could that be conveyed through restricted pov? Maybe! But I’m typesetting the svsss extras right now, and I’m in the bing-ge vs bing-mei section, and we get a few brief flashes of bing-ge’s thoughts, and it���s so NICE. It’s information I would not have otherwise received, because Shen Qingqiu sure wasn’t going to notice it. But early in the story, that pov was withheld from me, which also made sense (or hua cheng’s pov was withheld from me FOREVER, which makes me so sad ;u;). There don’t seem to be any hard and fast rules, which makes me really nervous about writing fic and trying to match the style, but I do like it a lot! 

And I’m definitely not able to articulate this in the way that I would like to, or speak with any real authority (I’m not that widely read in the cnovel scene, and i’m not very genre-adventurous in english), but there’s something about the role that the romances play in these stories that’s different from what I’m used to expecting, and it’s VERY tasty to me. I only rarely read romance novels, because I’m not often interested in the romance as a primary plot driver, but the romances in these books play a more substantial role than I’m used to expecting. And I’m into it! It’s a balance closer to what I’d expect from, like, a shippy longform fanfic. Which covers a lot of ground and is NOT a precise measure, but there’s more emotional weight given to the romance than I would expect, but without the romance carrying ALL of the emotional weight, and it strikes a perfect balance for me in a way I’m not used to encountering. Now, some of this could definitely be due to me not finding the right authors, or right subgenres, or whatever. But in the genres I inhabit, it’s a subtle difference, but one I find compelling.

Oh, one last thing. The cultural differences, duh :P I’m only familiar with things like, say, ancient chinese court etiquette through a lens of fan-translated novels like these, and I didn’t grow up steeped in the culture in a way I’m used to the trappings of something like medieval european courts. But there’s a distinct flavor to the social dynamics of these novels, from the formal levels down to the casual, and I know it’s super intricate and detailed and that authors play with differing degrees of historical accuracy vs fictional fun, and I wish I was better equipped to speak to the nature of any of this. But I find it really compelling! I recognize that it’s only new to ME because I didn’t seek out chinese media before now. And, the point that I originally wanted to get to before I got super distracted: the flirting. The flirting and teasing are a very different flavor from what I would expect in most english language media, and I love it, even if I can’t speak to how much of that is purely cultural, and how much of it is like... the conventions of How Fiction Is Written varying by culture, if that makes sense. I adore seeing what flirting and affection and indulgence and attentiveness look like in different settings, and these books, with their heavy romantic focus, absolutely deliver.

[aj-illustrated]

*pulls up a 97-slide PowerPoint* I’m so glad you asked

Ben is an OC co-owned by me and @finnoky! The short of it is that he’s an orphan who Varian helps save from a life of crime, and who later gets adopted by Quirin!

More about him under the cut:

Age: About 12

Birthday: He has no idea, but thinks it might have been sometime in the autumn.

Likes: Quirin, Varian, farmwork, tending to the sheep, his dog (Achilles), the Challenge of the Brave (spectating and later competing), adventure stories, head pats, strawberries, friendly roughhousing, drawing

Dislikes: Cramped spaces (he’s claustrophobic), people hugging him, carrots, books with complicated words, cold weather, any kind of tight or scratchy clothing

Fun Facts:

Ben meets Varian about nine months after the end of the series.

He’s good friends with Kiera and Catalina! They’re the only kids his age who can beat him in a fair fight.

He eventually grows to be taller than Varian, and absolutely uses that fact to tease him.

He’s an excellent pickpocket, though he hasn’t stolen much of anything since Quirin took him in.

He’s got a knack for drawing— he’s not too good with words, so he finds it easier to express himself with pictures. He’s also a leftie!

He’s been almost adopted several times, but Quirin is the only foster parent who kept him around for longer than a month.

Backstory: Ben is an orphan who’s been given a raw deal in life, and as a result is kinda pissed off at everyone and everything all the time. The orphanage he grew up in was lacking to say the least, and he spent much of his early childhood being routinely abused and neglected, often lashing out in aggression at those he deemed to be a threat (which was most people). He eventually starts getting into trouble with the law and is tossed in prison for multiple counts of petty theft and assault, and it’s around that time that he meets Varian, who is helping to reform Corona’s prison system and is disgusted to see that they’re still punishing children as if they were adults.

He gets Ben out of prison, but the orphanage refuses to let him come back, so Varian convinces Quirin to take him in. Quirin agrees for a few factors: 1. Ben reminds him of Varian when he was going through a rough time, and how Quirin wasn’t able to help him then, 2. He’s not getting any younger and could use some help around the farm (plus Varian has been worried about him getting lonely, now that Varian has basically moved into the castle), and 3. The kid deserves a shot at having a healthy, stable home life.

Ben only agrees to go live with Quirin because trying to survive on the streets is no picnic, and also because he’d really rather not stay in prison for any longer than he has to. He figures that it won’t last, anyway— Quirin will lose patience with him and kick him to the curb, just like every other foster parent/guardian he’s been handed off to. He gets very confused (and a little annoyed) when Quirin turns out to be incredibly patient and willing to give him as many chances as he needs. In response, Ben acts out and does everything he can think of to convince Quirin that he’s rotten to the core, but nothing works.

Ben doesn’t want to get his hopes up or let himself get attached. He manages to annoy everyone else: the other villagers, Varian, even Eugene (who visits sometimes), but never Quirin. The most he ever gets out of him is an irritated sigh.

Throughout all of this, Ben is also finding out that he kinda likes helping out on the farm, and he’s pretty good at it, too. He’s very strong for his age, and a fast learner.... except for one thing: he can’t read. The orphanage had tried to teach him, but it never really clicked and they had long since given up on him, so he just never learned, instead relying on pictures and context clues to figure out the meaning of written words. As he continues to grow more attached to Quirin, he starts wanting to be better, to deserve the love and acceptance Quirin is offering him, so his self-consciousness about reading (among other things he doesn’t like about himself) really starts to bug him.

While he's sociable and generally gets along with other children, he does have the flaw of a short temper. So when he's targeted and called out for his apparent lack of academic intelligence, things get ugly, fast, and he gets in a fight. When Quirin asks later what it was about, Ben is reluctant to tell him, and is even less enthused when Quirin later suggests enrolling him in school.

He eventually admits to Quirin that he’s illiterate, expecting to get belittled or even compared to Varian (who is an actual genius and is kind of intimidating to Ben). But Quirin.... he doesn’t care that Ben can’t read, and even offers to help teach him or find him a tutor if he wants to learn. It’s after letting himself be vulnerable and accepting Quirin’s help that Ben starts to wonder if maybe... maybe he has a shot at being part of a real family.

He starts to let himself feel at home in Old Corona, thinking (or rather hoping) he’s found somewhere he belongs... as much as he hates to admit it, he really likes it here. So he tries to keep on the straight and narrow so he can stay longer, even making an effort to be nicer to Varian (who is more than happy to help him with his reading and is the one to introduce him to the Flynn Rider series). For the first time, Ben’s future is looking bright.

Until he loses his temper again.

On a visit to the capital, he passes by his old orphanage and gets in an argument with one of the kids he used to know (and wasn’t on particularly good terms with). The argument quickly gets personal, and then physical, and Ben takes it way too far— by the time the guards arrive on the scene to break it up, the kid Ben was fighting is a bloody, mangled mess, about a minute away from passing out. The guards don’t care what awful things that kid said to Ben; all they care about is that this boy with a history of violence and petty crime just savagely attacked another child, and Ben is swiftly arrested and taken to the dungeons.

At this point, Ben has cooled down enough to realize just how serious his situation really is. Even if they let him out of prison to go back to Quirin, he’s sure this is the last straw and that Quirin won’t want anything to do with him— he’s violent and dangerous, and no matter what he does he can’t seem to stay out of trouble, even when he really does try his best to be good. He hates himself for blowing his one chance at finding a home and family, and consoles himself by thinking that it was only a matter of time and at least the wait is over (boy’s got some raging self-loathing issues if you haven’t noticed).

Varian gets word that Ben’s been arrested and heads down to the dungeons to hear his side of the story, but Ben is too ashamed to even look him in the eye. Ben was told by the guards that, although he won’t be left to rot in the dungeons or thrown onto a prison barge (as per the new regulations regarding juvenile justice), he’ll be sent away to a correctional facility for delinquents— aka, reform school. Ben has no idea what to expect, but based on what the guards have been saying about it (very loudly, just outside his cell), it sounds no better than regular prison.

Varian is having absolutely none of this and contacts Quirin to tell him what’s going on— Quirin is up at the castle within the hour to try and bail Ben out, or at least renegotiate his sentence. However, since Quirin is not yet technically related to Ben— for the past year or so, he’s legally been closer to a parole officer than anything else— the law states that he can’t actually do much to interfere with Ben’s bail or sentence, especially since the boy is a repeat offender and is now classified as a menace to society.

Instead of giving up on the situation, Quirin decides to become Ben’s legal guardian right then and there, whipping out the adoption papers he’s been keeping in his vest for weeks— he’s been wanting to ask Ben if he’d like to be adopted for a while now, but he could never find the right moment. Now seems to be as good a time as any.

It takes a day or two to sort things out (Nigel and Fred both aren’t too keen on releasing a violent criminal for any reason, even if that criminal is like twelve), but Varian is able to pull some strings with Raps and Eugene to give Quirin full guardianship over Ben. Meanwhile, Ben is expecting he'll be shipped off any day now— when he sees Varian come back down to the prison with a guard, he expects it's to say goodbye... not to remove his shackles and lead him back upstairs to the throne room, where Quirin and Rapunzel are waiting beside a stack of paperwork. They only need one more signature to make the adoption official: Ben’s.

Luckily, Varian and Quirin have been helping him practice writing his name, and once he signs, Quirin tosses Raps the bail money (which she had whittled down to like two coins) and they head back home— Ben’s permanent home.

Ben’s story is a result of many many rambles between me and Feen on Discord, and I don’t think we’re gonna be stopping anytime soon— Ben is such a fun OC to flesh out XD

Feen and I are actually running a Q&A for Ben over on Feen’s Instagram story, y’all should go check it out!

[lunaverseimagine]

Didn’t Think You’d Remember

Prompt: I don’t know if you remember me

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Summary: Reader has been thinking about Ron ever since she first saw him in Diagon Alley. Now that she’s finally made the quidditch team for her house, will he notice her? (Note: y/h = your house, reader not in Gryffindor)

Warnings: None? (Unless - spoiler - kissing counts? xD )

Word count: 1.9k

Fic:

You jumped up and down, muddy, soaking wet, and absolutely ecstatic. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends - you’d just been selected as a Y/h chaser! You had tried out for the team every year, never losing hope, practising whenever you could. Being on a quidditch team had been your dream ever since you found out what the word ‘quidditch’ meant, and you couldn’t believe your hard work had finally paid off; you were in fifth year and you’d made it!

Your team’s practises began the very next day. They were gruelling, tiring, and everything you had hoped for. Apparently training was even harder than it would normally be this time of year, because your captain wanted you to be prepared for your first match - which was against Gryffindor. When you’d found out who the new Gryffindor keeper was, you couldn’t help the mix of excitement and nerves that danced in your stomach.

The first time you saw him was in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. As a muggle-born, you were absolutely awestruck by everything around you. The first thing you did was have your muggle money exchanged for wizard money by a goblin... goblin! To be honest the creatures had creeped you out a bit, and they still do, but you soon got over that when you started exploring all the magical shops. Even the seemingly mundane items, like your History of Magic book, absolutely intrigued you, and you were sure that you were walking around with your mouth hanging open the whole afternoon.

Of particular interest to you were the wizarding families - it was obvious who had grown up around magic and who hadn’t. For one thing, the wizarding families were all wearing quite peculiar clothes, and for another, they were looking at the whacky shops as though they were as normal as a Greggs or a WHSmith. It was when you neared Ollivander’s, where you’d been advised to get your wand, that you saw several redheads, obviously witches and wizards, chatting and laughing outside. You politely squeezed past them to get inside the shop where you saw another two redheads - a boy about your age, and a short, kind-faced woman whom you guessed was his mother. The boy was flicking a wand in the air with a look of determination that you found endearing. Eventually Mr Ollivander gestured for the wand back - it didn’t seem to be doing anything - and the boy glanced over at you with a shy, slightly embarrassed smile. When he was handed the next wand he did the same flicking motion, but this time you saw a glimmer all around his body that looked.. well, magical. The cutest smile you’d ever seen lit up his whole face, although it dimmed a bit when his mum tipped the minimal contents of her purse onto the counter and had just enough coins to buy the wand.

Since then, you’d heard of Ron’s endeavours throughout the years at Hogwarts: that game of wizard’s chess in first year where he nearly died, going into the chamber of secrets in second to year to save his sister who nearly died, that mysterious event in third year where he broke his leg and probably nearly died, and let’s not forget fourth year where he was one of the four treasures in the bottom of the lake to be found in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament (although you don’t think he nearly died that time). And let’s not forget flying his car to school - you knew it was reckless, but at the same time you admired the courage and resourcefulness, and feared that he would be expelled. You were so relieved to see him wolfing down breakfast in the Great Hall the next day.

Despite your attentiveness to activities, you were sure he’d never noticed you. There was the occasional shared smile in the corridor or in classes that you had together, but you thought that was more out of politeness than any specific feeling towards you.

All that was going to change though - he was bound to notice you in a few weeks’ time because you would be trying to get the quaffle through the very hoops that he would be defending. You felt the butterflies in your stomach again.

--

The day of the match had finally arrived. Your training had been absolutely brutal but you were grateful, because at least now you felt a little prepared. After a quick pep talk in the changing rooms, you followed your captain onto the pitch to loud cheers coming from the stands. The Gryffindor team were approaching the centre where Madam Hooch stood, and as you neared them you could’ve sworn Ron shot a smile in your direction. You brushed it off - he was probably just being friendly before the game.

The captains shook hands and Hooch’s whistle sounded. Thoughts of Ron immediately disappeared from your mind as you focussed on trying to gain possession of the quaffle. You didn’t have to wait long - thanks to a bludger heading towards the Gryffindor chaser the ball had been dropped, and you were perfectly poised to catch it. You flew straight for the hoops, feeling the wind rush through your hair, checking around you for any bludgers or players who might compromise your flight. Surprisingly it was smooth sailing to the posts, and you found yourself face to face with him. You shot Ron a cheeky smile - you were always most confident when on your broom - and faked a throw into the right hoop which successfully fooled Ron and allowed you to score through the centre. You heard the stadium erupt with cheers.

Ron had a shocked expression on his face, like he hadn’t quite comprehended what had just happened, and you gave him a wink before flying a celebratory lap of the pitch.

During the rest of the match you had four more attempts at a goal: two successful and two blocked. In the end it was Harry who caught the snitch, leading inevitably to a Gryffindor win, but you were in good spirits regardless. Three goals scored in your first proper match! You’d talked your parents’ ears off about quidditch, and while they still didn’t quite understand the concept (“Why is it 150 points for the snitch? Isn’t that a bit much?”) you knew they’d be delighted to read the letter you were going to send later telling them about your goals.

--

There was a brilliant feast in the Great Hall that evening to celebrate the first match of the season. You took great pleasure in eating one of every type of food that was laid out before you. Your appetite was a force to be reckoned with and your friends always seemed quite impressed at how much you managed to eat every meal time.

As you were making your way through a delicious pumpkin pie, you noticed your friends looking at something behind you. Turning, you saw a familiar face.

“Y/n,” Ron smiled at you. You were surprised that he knew your name, but hoped you’d managed to keep the shock off your face. “Mind if I take a seat?” The people on your left had already scooted along the bench to give him room.

“Of course,” you smiled back, trying to suppress the butterflies that had once again made themselves at home in your stomach.

“Well played today,” he complimented you as he helped himself to a generous serving of chocolate eclairs. If any student in Hogwarts had an appetite to rival yours, it would be Ron.

“Thanks,” you said breezily, hoping he wouldn’t see the blush in your cheeks, “you too.” You busied yourself with finishing off your dessert while Ron spoke to the other people on your table. They seemed very happy to engage in conversation - it appeared it wasn’t just you who thought highly of him. You loved how friendly and open to conversation he was, even with non-Gryffindors. When you’d both finished your food and the hall started emptying, Ron asked if you’d like to walk around the grounds with him. You tried not to agree too quickly.

--

There was an autumn chill in the air but at least it wasn’t raining - not that any weather would stop you from spending time with Ron (who knew your name! and wanted to spend time with you!). You hugged your cloak around you and listened intently to Ron talking about his favourite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, who just so happened to be your favourite team too.

You’d just finished discussing which Cannons chaser you thought had had the best season when you reached the edge of the lake. You both stopped walking and took a moment to just look at each other. His eyes wore a soft expression, and his hair was slightly ruffled from the breeze, which made him look more adorable than usual. 

“To be honest, I didn’t think you remembered me.” You said quite suddenly, not even knowing yourself that you were going to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you in Ollivanders,” Ron spoke gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “You- you didn’t look put off when you saw my Mum emptying… Well anyway, I thought you seemed really decent.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Ron using ‘decent’ as a flirtatious - is that what it was? - word.

“Anyone who cares about that isn’t worth your time,” you replied adamantly, “especially with all the amazing stuff you’ve done over the years.” Now it was Ron’s turn to blush.

“I haven’t really done anything, Hermione’s the brains and Harry’s done all the hard stuff, I just, sort of, tag along.” Is that really what he thought of himself? 

You reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his. He didn’t pull away, so you took his hand in yours and looked straight at him with an earnest expression on your face. “I bet Harry wouldn’t have been able to do half that stuff without you by his side, without your courage giving him strength.”

Ron searched your eyes, trying to work out if you really meant what you were saying. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, because the next thing you knew he was lowering his face towards yours. He paused, barely a centimetre away, as if waiting for consent. You happily obliged, closing the rest of the distance between you.

The butterflies turned into fireworks. You ran your hands through his hair - you’ve been wanting to do that for so long - and it was just as soft as you’d imagined. You gave it a gentle tug and he let out a quiet moan, grazing his teeth against your bottom lip. You pressed your body against his, revelling in the feeling of being so close, of being one, with this boy you’d been thinking about since you were 11. His hands were on your waist, holding you tightly, and you knew that he’d been thinking about you for a while too. You’d only had one proper conversation with Ron, but your lips were so in tune with his that it was as though you’d been doing this forever.

Eventually you came apart, your heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” you remarked. 

With his forehead touching yours, Ron grinned at you and said, “Y/n, that was bloody brilliant.”

End

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