#fic: the mechanics of emotion

[the-bar-sinister]

The Mechanics of Emotion (21656 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

December 27, 12:35 pm

Apollo plopped himself down in one of the chairs in the visitor room of the minimum security area of the prison and waited for Aura to be led in. It was nice, at least, that there wouldn't be bars between them this time.

He rubbed his eyes, knowing there were dark circles under them. He'd gotten some sleep– a couple of hours before coming. But it wasn't enough.

He didn't know if it could ever be enough after the week he'd had.

The sharp beep of the locks disengaging heralded Aura Blackquill’s arrival as they pushed open with the gentle clink of chains, and the murmur of a guard as he stepped in with her.

Apollo got a good view of her as she stood there with her handcuffed hands outstretched before her as the guard unlocked the cuffs for her visitation. 

She looked as rough as he did, her dark hair down from it’s usual twin buns and falling around her face in thick and messy curls…her eyes bore dark circles of their own under the round rims of the glasses that replaced her usual visor.

There was a low, gurgling croak from the starkest difference…a large and sleek feathered bird perched atop her shoulder. A raven, with clever little eyes and an obsidian beak that seemed to turn and regard Apollo with curiosity.

In the striped uniform of the state penitentiary, her curling and mussed hair, and her old labcoat draped unopened over her shoulders with the bird glaring from atop them…

He could really see the family resemblance between her and Simon, clear as day.

She sneered something to the guard, who pulled the cuffs away with a nervous laugh before she turned and seemed to brighten considerably upon seeing Apollo.

“It’s been a few days, cutie.” she purred in a low voice as she walked over under the guard’s careful stare. The bird ruffled her feathers atop her shoulder and let out a sharp caw, earning the quiet ‘tch’ and a reprimand from Aura “...behave, Morrigan.” 

"Sorry, Aura. I would have come sooner, but I had a surprisingly long week." He smiled wanly at her. "Nice bird. Morrigan, huh?"

Aura sat opposite him with a sly smile, brushing her hair over her ear. 

“I won’t say I wasn’t wishing you might come along a little earlier, but I can understand a ‘long week’. You’re graciously forgiven.” She gestured to Morrigan with a chuckle. “as you can see, as my brother had requested, I'm already making friends here in the clink. This is Morrigan…some kind of animal therapy rehab project gave her to me as a companion…my only guess why they chose a bird is to have a laugh about another Blackquill in prison. But she’s charming enough.”

Morrigan made a low croak of a trill before she flapped up into the air and landed near Apollo, looking at his bracelet with keen interest. 

Apollo rubbed his bracelet, noticing the bird's interest and he chuckled nervously.

"Well, she does seem charming, even if people are laughing. It's nice to know at least you aren't completely alone in here." He gave her a wan smile. "Missed you the last week. I was out of the country."

Aura’s hand reached out and rested on the middle of the table near him as she gave him a tired smile. The playful cockiness he’d come to know before everything had gone sideways was still there under the clear exhaustion.

“Missed you too, you know. Spent Christmas wondering if you were gonna drop by, or send me one of those poems we talked about....you too, huh? Lemme guess…the same thing Simon was away on, yeah? That whole thing with Cauli and…” she leaned in to whisper. “the capture of some…or one… of that rat bastard’s superiors?” 

"So you already know some of it," he murmured back, leaning toward her, his voice low. Had Simon told her all of it? He doubted it. "Yeah. I was in Cauli. I missed you on Christmas. It was a bad one."

Aura nodded as she looked into his eyes. 

“seems like that was going around…bad Christmas’. “ Her nails scraped against the table between them as they shook “wish I coulda been company for you.”

Morrigan thumped her head against Apollo’s wrist with a low squawk, as Aura took a deep breath. “Simon told me a bit…about that bein’ why he didn’t visit me either. Gave me the good news. Begged me to let him use the Blackquill Manor for a while. That sort of thing…but how about you, huh? Wanna talk about what made it so rough?” 

"I'd rather hear what exactly Simon thought the good news was." He reached over, and tried to give the bird a little pet on the head.

I'm gonna guess it wasn't about 'Halblicht'. Or she'd be in a way worse mood.

No kidding.

“About them catching the guys who sent that wretched Phantom to our doorstep.” Aura’s lips twitched in a cruel smile “...I may be too late to end his life myself, but the idea that his superior will go down in flames with him is a small comfort to warm my ugly little cell.”

Morrigan’s feathers ruffled in surprise at being pet– but she soon seemed to be amenable to it, hopping a little closer. 

He stroked the bird's crest thoughtfully, and looked up at Aura with big eyes that he was sure were too dark. He could feel Clay and the anxious anger inside him pushing up against his thoughts.

He sure didn't tell her alright. That means it's up to us.

It's going to really spoil her mood.

"So that's what he told you." They nodded. "It's true, they have his superior, and they're tugging away to bring the whole organization down like a jenga tower."

Aura’s smile grew a little wider. 

“...burning it all down, as it deserves to be.” She brushed her fingers through her hair “for what they did to us. To Clay, to Metis…” The woman’s voice broke , and she took a moment to compose herself while Morrigan preened against his hand. “They all deserve to burn. It’s a comfort to hear they’re at least doing that much.” 

"Yeah…" There's our opening. "About Clay and Metis, Aura…."

Aura leaned on her hand curiously. “...about them?” 

Her tone had turned hesitant, almost tense, as she listened with that frown she’d often worn while tinkering with Clonco’s head. 

"Can I ask you a frank question? You won't like it."

She is not at all going to guess what you're about to ask.

Aura laughed , and her hand slapped the table hard in rapid succession, startling Morrigan and sending her flapping up to land atop Apollo’s head with an indignant screech.

“I’ve gotten pretty used to things I don’t like lately, Apollo Justice!”

"Relatable," he drawled, wincing as the heavy bird landed on him. "Ow… hey, come on, Morrigan, you're spoiling the dramatic mood."

Aura laughed even harder, her eyes closed as she slapped the table again. 

“she hates when things get too serious. It means there’s more eyes on her when she tries to steal her little trinkets, isn’t that right?”

Morrigan hopped down onto his shoulder…the same arm that had his bracelet…and seemed t0 ignore her barb.

“But…go on. I’m listening.” Aura said as the laughter died and her expression sobered. 

"I think she's trying to get my bracelet," he chuckled. He shook his head. "But, look… Aura– I'm serious when I say this. Do you believe in ghosts?"

Aura’s lips twitched slightly. “uh…huh. I’ve never exactly been a spiritual person. Metis…she’d always been the one to believe in fairy tales like spirit mediums and vengeful ghosts.” 

"Yeah," Apollo nodded. "I wasn't exactly one to believe in them either. But… what if I could prove to you that they exist?"

Are we really doing this? I thought we were going to keep quiet about…

If anyone deserves to know, it's Aura.“Then you’ll have absolutely blown a scientist’s worldview open” she leaned on her hand. “and give me a lot to think about in my little cell.” 

"I'll have even more to tell you once I prove it," he said. "I don't want you to think I'm making wild claims out of nowhere, you know?"

Aura’s smirk flickered back to life. “Well, well…now you’ve got me interested.” 

"Alright," he leaned closer to her. "Ask me something only Clay Terran would know the answer to."

Aura’s eyebrow raised below her thick glasses. 

“...hard question. I know you two were close.” She traced her fingertip on the table as Morrigan made a grab for his bracelet with her beak. “Gimme a sec.” 

"Maybe a conversation in private," he murmured. "Or something leading up to the day of the launch."

He felt his chest tighten at the thought of actually talking about the whole thing. But he was committed now.

Aura took a deep breath and smiled at him. 

“...I got a little drunk at the Cosmos Center pre-launch party. I wound up leaning on Clay half the night and talking his ear off.” Her eyes flicked down as she muttered “eventually he helped me to the Robotics Lab where I told him something I hadn’t told anyone before.”

Apollo bit his lip and felt his eyes sting as tears beaded in the corner. The memory of the moment welled up in their mind from Clay's perspective. Aura, drunk and nostalgic leaned against him, his arm around her. Sober as a stone and just happy for her company.

Clay swallowed. 

"It was Metis' last words. Before the HAT-1 launch. You told me what she'd said to you. That when the probe came back– she hoped it was a kinder world. And you didn't need to hide."

His fingers tensed, and he clenched away from Morrigan as she pecked at their bracelet. 

Aura’s breath caught in her throat…and her cocky little smile died on her lips as her eyes narrowed in surprise. She physically flinched. 

“How…” Her voice broke again, and he saw the first beads of tears glistening on her long eyelashes as she scraped her nails against the top of the table “how…I…I only ever told that to Clay just before he died.” 

"Yeah," Clay sighed, leaning toward her now. "I know. You were drunk as hell. It was cute. Shame I didn't drink at the party due to the regulations. Wouldn't have mattered in the end."

Aura blinked several times over the grimacing line of her mouth, and a single set of tears dripped down the contours of her tired and tear-bruised face. She quickly wiped them away with a shaking breath.

“Cute, huh? I should get wasted more often. Get wasted with me next time, instead of following Yuri’s boring old regulations” her dark eyes focused on him under the messy fringes of her hair as she took a shuddering breath “...”

“Clay, that can’t possibly be you in there…it’s…scientifically ridiculous.” Still, she referred to him by his name. She may have really wanted to believe it. 

"I know," he said. He reached out his hand toward her. She was echoing their own thoughts of the last few days. "It's stupid isn't it? I should just be gone. Nowhere. Returned to stardust. But I'm here…"

Nausea swam in their belly, Apollo lurching at Clay's suggestion that he should be gone. 

I'm glad you're here, he promised him again for the millionth time. I don't want you to be gone.

Aura’s grabbed his hand, staring deep into his eyes for a long moment with that stare that was so very much like her brother’s. 

After a moment she sighed out a soft breath “...well I’ll be damned,” Her shoulders shook with what was either a laugh or a sob. “Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable. But Mr. Justice looks a lil’ different when…when you’re talking. Just like that damned clown show of a case way back when.”

She gave Clay a familiar old smile he’d seen a lot in the cosmos center, reserved for very few...including himself… in those days when Aura stormed through the halls like an antisocial stormcloud. “Consider my disbelief suspended….I missed you, spaceman.” 

He squeezed her hand, and gave her an embarrassed smile. "Missed you too, doc. Heh… guess I took a wrong turn. Ended up exploring a different final frontier than I planned."

“Apollo Justice’s body?” she asked with a sharp and teasing smirk “one I was hoping to explore too, before this whole shitshow happened.”

She broke out into one of her laughs, slapping the table again and startling Morrigan who’d gotten her beak around the bracelet only to be startled into flying over the table with a frustrated caw. 

Clay and Apollo jolted as one, and made a choked noise. Clay rubbed the back of his neck, flushed. 

"No uh, I had that one covered beforehand," he murmured. "But uh, yeah… big surprises this week. Something something, dreamt of in your philosophy, am I right?"

Aura grabbed his hand again, her fingers curling against his as she chuckled. “I bet you did. But…seriously…the spirit world exists in some fashion or another…it changes things. That’s for certain.”

She met his eyes “that in and of itself must have been an earth shattering surprise.” 

"It fucked me up, Aura," he admitted plaintively, staring deep into her eyes with his– or whatever approximation of them he and Apollo shared. "We didn't believe it. We thought– we thought we were going crazy. Apollo thought he was going crazy. Couldn't blame him. So did I."

“I feel like I might be going crazy and I’m only hearing about it.” She admitted with a thin smile, squeezing his hand tighter “...I can’t even imagine hearing…hearing the voice of someone I loved in my head and having to figure out if I’d just finally snapped or what…” 

"It was a hell of a week," he said with a small smile. He squeezed her hand. "What made me finally believe it was… well.. Mr. Wright's friend, Pearl Fey. She's a channeler, you know?"

“...a spirit channeller. That spikey haired attorney has a friend who’s a goddess damned spirit channeler…” Her thumb brushed his fingers thoughtfully as she tilted her head “...alright. I’ll bite.” 

"You know how you said you can kind of see the difference in my face?" he murmured. "When the Feys channel somebody, their whole body– mostly– transforms. It's really… obvious. Undeniable really. Like the video of California Vs Sister Iris. It's almost scary in person."

“So that wasn’t some kinda camera trick then.” Aura whistled low under her breath. “...it sounds like it’s a horror show, and it sounds like it’s one you got to see.”

"It's the only reason we believed it was real," he explained. He squeezed her hand again, remembering it. Remembering seeing…. her. "Aura… Pearl channeled… she channeled…"

He felt his breath hitch in their chest as they struggled to say it to her.

Aura’s eyes widened behind the lenses of her glasses, and he got to watch the color drain from her face as she guessed it…

“Don’t tell me they channeled Metis…” 

They nodded slowly, and swallowed. "Yeah. They did. Pearl said she's happy to channel her again– when you can see her. She wanted to see you. She asked where you were. She– she wants us to throw a party."

They fought down a fit of nervous laughter at the idea.

Aura choked, and her fingers tightened sharply around his. 

“She asked where I am…Metis I’m in fucking prison.” She laughed and fell forward on the table until her forehead rested on his hand. “A party…probably full of her favorite dark jokes and ironies, knowing her. Hell…Sounds like a blast…a real blast.” 

"She was cracking dark jokes the whole time," he said, leaning until his head touched hers too. "Even if I couldn't see her face, I would have believed it was her. She said… she hasn't moved on yet. She isn't ready. She's still lingering with us."

Aura Blackquill was a proud woman, he knew that she always went out of her way to hide her tears behind a sharp barb and a laugh, but when he said those words she began to cry. Tears fell against the back of his hand as she took shuddering, shaking breaths….

“She’s always been a sentimental old fool,” she murmured with teary affection. “she’d best not move on until I get there.” 

They felt a thick tightness in their throat, and choked back a little sob. "I think she might be waiting for you."

Aura gripped his hand tighter, a sharp and strangled sound in her throat as she cried atop his hand.

At some point Morrigan had lost interest in his bracelet…or perhaps cared about her new charge…and come to roost back on her shoulder.

After a long moment, she rose and wiped her eyes. 

“Gah…then we’d best hold that party once I’m free of this dump. See if we can convince her to stick around a little longer.” 

They gently let go of her hand, and wiped their own eyes. "Yeah. I know she'll be happy to see you."

“Good…good.” Aura took a deep breath and scritched Morrigan’s crest. “...so that’s why you’ve had such a long week. Given…seeing her again so unexpectedly…I can see why you’ve been kinda sleepless.” 

"There's more than that," he said. "It's not all good news, but it's hard to explain, and I shouldn't say too much, or Miles Edgeworth will kick my ass."

Aura’s expression knit in anxious anticipation. ‘...well. I’m listening. Miles Edgeworth can complain to me if he’s pissed.”

"There's another ghost other than me walking around, Aura," he said, feeling the tension in his jaw.

Aura’s jaw set. “..and it’s not Metis or someone else I might be happy to see, or you’d have told me already.” 

"No," he shook his head. "Well. Admittedly, I don't know if you'd be happy to see their ghost or not. But their host? Absolutely not."

He could see the way Aura prickled, and feel her fingers tighten against his. “...who. Who the hell is it?”

Apollo lowered his voice to a whisper, and made certain that his hand was covering his mouth in view of the camera. It would;n't get him kicked out. He was a trusted and respected lawyer.

"Bobby Fulbright."

He saw the obvious recognition as the other piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Aura Blackquill’s mind. The widening of her eyes in shock followed by the sudden simmering anger as her expression twisted into a snarl.

“So that’s who’s walking around…How much of the monster is aware? Is he like…like you two? Does Simon know? ” Even through the growl of fury in her voice…he could hear the hurt as she spit out the last question.. 

Their gaze darkened as well. "Simon knows. They were working together on the case in Cauli. Moving up the chain."

“Moving up the chain.” The hurt showed briefly on her face before it drowned in the furious snarl that crossed her features. The edges of her lips twitched as her fingers left his hand to turn into tight fists.

Morrigan, sensing her distress, hunkered down as her features bushed up in reciprocated anger with a sharp caw.

“With the Phantom by his side. How…” she laughed, though there wasn’t a shred of her usual humor in it. “how hilariously ironic! My own brother working with the bloody Phantom to ‘work up the chain’. All while lying to my face because it’s not like his sister, locked up in a mess of her own making, will ever know! Better tell her he’s dead and rub salt in her wounds!”

Her fist struck the table as the first angry tears began to fall “Miles Edgeworth can take up his fury with me, Apollo…Clay..”

She jerked her head up, looking him dead in the eyes with a flash of her own “Did they toss the bastard in a cell when you got back, or is he walking free?” 

"We got back this morning," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't stick around to find out. But you know what? I'm gonna send Mr. Edgeworth in to answer to you, Aura. How's that sound?"

Aura Blackquill’s fury was palpable as she dragged her nails against the table. “...that sounds lovely, my dear.” she managed to say in a shuddering and whispered tone.

“I think he has a lot to answer for in this little confidence game of his.” 

"He does, that's for sure." Clay sat with her, stewing in their shared, sullen anger for a moment. He glanced at the clock. "Aura, I don't have a lot of time left before they're gonna kick me out."

Aura looked up at the clock , pushing her hands up below her glasses to wipe her eyes before she glared at the time.

“Of course. Can’t let me enjoy good company for too long before they throw me back in the pit.” She made a sharp ‘tch’ sound. “dammit…fuck.”

He put his hand on her face and smiled a sad little smile. "Before I go, I actually have something for you. A present. I know it's late. I meant to give it to you after, well–" Clay shook his head.

“...” Aura briefly snapped out of her fury to turn her gaze back towards Clay with an attempt at a grin “A present huh? Y-you’re spoiling me, Clay.”

She eased herself back down into the chair, and pushed up her glasses with a curious tilt of her head.

He slid his hand into their pocket and pulled out a small package, about the size of his fist, wrapped in crinkled Christmasy paper, with snowmen on it. He offered it to her.

"It's really not much," he said. "I would have gone bigger, if I had known. But at least it's something they'll let you keep in here."

The guard gave him a look from by the door…but Aura didn’t hesitate in taking it and holding it for a moment with a big grin. 

“...a christmas present, too..” She looked up at him with a trace of a dark flush on her face over her sharp and playful smile. “what a romantic. Sorry I couldn’t…couldn’t get ya anything in return.”

She opened it, carefully removing the tape and opening the paper. “I really wish I could, but..well.” 

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. When you're out, you can buy me flowers."

It was a dark joke, but Clay made it all the same. Aura was used to that kind of humor.

When the paper was torn away, inside was the small toy he'd bought her in the days before his death. A stress ball– a little rubber toy– but in the shape of a science-fiction robot.

“I’ll get ones that match your headstone.” she said with a broadening grin as she held the toy up to the light. 

“My own little pocket sized Clonco…” She looked down at him with a flicker of genuine happiness in her smile, before Morrigan flapped off her shoulder and she slid around the table to grab him by the shoulders.

The toy squished against him as she leaned closer, her nose close to his as she glanced up at the camera and the frowning guard. Her smile inched a little wider, a little more mischievous, as she closed the distance. “Love it, spacemen” she murmured a second before she pulled him into a kiss. 

It was normal, natural for Clay, and he melted into the kiss as he'd often done for the last year or so. It surprised Apollo a little, but he only made a soft noise before he too surrendered to it. They put an arm around her.

Aura held him tight for a moment in a kiss as passionate and fierce as she was before she finally broke it when the guard cleared his throat…

For the third time.

As their lips parted, she held up the toy and gave it a squeeze. 

“Gonna think of you every time I torment the little thing” she teased. 

They laughed and rubbed their face. "Of course you are. I'm touched."

Apollo glanced over at the guard with a semi-apologetic look. "Looks like we're on our third warning. I better go before they decide I'm not allowed back.

“Yeah…the guards are allergic to fun in this dump.” Aura chuckled, as she put her hand on her hip. "...you…two, I guess. I’m gonna miss you. Make sure to visit again soon, alright? I’ll..” she performatively sighed, “make some new friends so I can have some fresh gossip to bitch about to you.” 

They chuckled. "Promise we'll visit soon. I'll be excited to hear about your friends. And let me know how that conversation with Edgeworth goes."

“You’ll be the first to know.” she said with a jagged grin. “Kisses, boys. Don’t have too much fun without me.” ”

[cherry-pop-elf]

Hoof Race

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can be read as platonic

I’m going through ALOT because of a dickwad of a piano teacher. So imma just project and vent here. I love piano, but I don’t love the piano teacher. My own personal Umbridge. Bleck. So it’s gonna be sloppily written, projective, just. I’m going through a lot right now. A lot a lot.

Summary: Your first detention with Umbridge. Needless to say, very traumatizing. At least you have a pair of red heads to comfort you. Along with formed an escape plan to get you out of there. With some help

Warnings: Umbridge, scars, blood, depression, anxiety, stress, crying, trauma, Umbridge being Umbridge. Physical Violence against Reader from Umbridge, Humanism(Racism against other species) Surprise Guest Appearance for the Book Lovers from one of our favorite Divination Teachers

“Where is our little lab rat?” Fred huffed, as he was looking around for you. With George trailing behind. Looking in all the directions that Fred wasn’t looking. You had promised to meet them at Hagrid’s to test out a new product to help with calming animals. Something that was more so a Comission’s for Hagrid than anything else. Would be a nice little treat. Tea, fang, and laughter. Just one problem. Where are you?

“Should have never given Harry that map.” George would grumble, as he was getting worried now. Where were you? You aren’t one to break a promise. Especially to miss out on hanging with Hagrid. Who wants to purposely avoid a cozy evening with him? Especially since the twins had hoards of candy to share. If you missed a treat like that, it has to be beyond your control.

“Checked the dorm, checked Myrtle, checked the Requirement’s, checked the green house-“ The twins would finish each others sentences, as they walked. Trying so hard to think of where you could be. That’s when they stopped infront of the Defense Room Doors. They were open, but the office door was closed. They slowly looked to each other, before bolting inside.

“But Miss Umbridge, it hurts-!” They heard you shout, now that they were pressing their ears to the door. “It’s not suppose to feel good, darling. I should have expected such idiocy from someone who found it wise to speak out of turn-“ Umbridge would huff, as her heels could be heard pacing. A mixture of sharp clicks, and your hiccups.

“Mr. Firenze is not a THING-!” You snapped, only for a sharp smack to echo in the room. Made the twins wince, as you hiccuped again. “That beast is indeed that. Why defend that vile creature, when it even identifies itself as a beast-? Hm? Shouldn’t expect much from an idiotic child like yourself.” She lectured on.

“What do we do?” George whispered to Fred. What could they do? She was still a professor after all. Regardless, they had to do something. Anything. SOMETHING. They had to think fast, before you got even more hurt. Or worse. Expelled.

“Twins-?” A voice called itself, making the duo look over. The familiar blonde hair, and clips of hoof steps, made it clear who it was. Their newest teacher, given Umbridge very literally fired their old one. What a god send, as the twins were able to hatch a plan.

“Please please-“ They made praying hand gestures, as they pointed at her door. Making dramatic movements to try and convey they needed a distraction. Not wanting to get detention next. Never thought detention could be worse than anything Snape could offer.

The echo of another slap was what made the ever calm teacher connect the dots. Oh how he dispised such treatment. It was inhuman. That’s saying something from a man who used to live with trantulas the size of buildings. He would quickly motion for the red heads to quickly go hide under the stairs, before he cleared his throat.

“Mistress Umbridge? I need to speak with you about a matter at hand-!” He called, with a hoof stomp for added volume. The duo was quick to run under the stairs, and narrowly miss her gaze. An ever-plastered fake smile was on her lips, as she would walk down the stairs. A twitch to her eye was given, as she was now forced to speak to the centaur.

"Yes, Firenze? Whatever could you need at this late hour?" She asked, while the twins were quick to rush into the classroom. Left quite a sight. There you were, with bloody hands. To bloody to even make out what scars she had to make your write this time. Along with a firm bruise on your cheek, from her had no less. They were enraged, to put it lightly. This was the last time she would ever do this. That was their promise.

They were quick to your side, as you wrapped your arms around them. Your savior. "She just kept insulting him, and it wasn't right. He's a good teacher-" You would sniffle, as George would use his wand to try and clean your hands. He sneered at the words on your skin. Busy with tending to your immediate wounds, as Fred tried to calm you down and explain the plan.

"WAIT WAIT-I UH-I AM JUST A CENATUR! A WITCH LIKE YOURSELF KNOWS MORE THE I!" Firenze shouted, making the twins realize their time was running out. "Just be quiet, and follow our lead-" Fred just said, and you listened. Typical behavior, after all. They were always scheming, and you were happy to get into any mess they offered.

"Well....You are just a centaur. You aren't modern, or cultured, such as myself. I suppose i can remind you how we properly function here." Umbridge would smugly say, as Firenze tried so hard to not roll his eyes. Was worth it, as he was able to watch you be escorted back under the stairs. That firey red hair hidden away. Just in time, because even his calm soul can only take so much.

"Oh dear, Mar's is infront of Saturn. You know what that means, I better return to my classroom-!” She had no idea what that meant, no one did since it was a big lie. Least it sounded good enough to make her scoff. Feeling as though she wasted her time with him. Regardless, she gave a friendly smile. Now walking back towards her office.

The second her back was turned, the blonde stallion quickly motioned for the three of you to hurry to him. Fred and George basically carried you, as they did. Needing to work fast. Was just yanked around like a doll, but there was no choice. The moment Umbridge had gasped, noticing you were gone, you three were on his back.

“Where did-“ But it was faded, as you three were not having a horse ride of your life. Escaping her, this night. Quite the adrenaline rush. Riding the back of your teacher, as he tried to not trip down the stairs. Least you had Fred and George to comfort you. Holding on to the straps on their teachers body, for his supplies, and comforting you.

“Well clean you up, and make sure that this is the last time she ever hurts anyone.” Fred said, with a firm nod. You never thought the twins could look so angry before. Was scary, but also a morbid reassurance. Given Umbridge’s gaslighting was getting to you. Thinking you were a burden, failure, worthless, just horrible. Didn’t even noticed you were starting to cry. It was all too much. The boys would hold you close, and just hold.

“Dreadful woman. Dreadful dreadful just oh so dreadful-“ Firenze would keep on muttering, as he tried to not break an ankle on those ever moving stairs. Full of much spite as anyone else. Suppose that meant the twins had someone on their side, at least.

“You are gonna crash with us tonight.” Fred said to you, as Firenze took that as advice on where to go. Now heading to the Gryffindor common room. “Think of it as a big sleep over. Chilling in the common room’s living space.” George echoed. Childish, but there is joy in childhood. Had you smile in approval.

“Here, allow me to offer some assistance.” Firenze then spoke, as he rummaged in his bag. Still trotting along, as it was just a hallway roam now.

“This should help with your healing and recovery. Sometimes spells can not solve all problems.” And a small bag was offered to you three. Most likely a herbal of some kind. The kind textures were very reassuring. A reminder you weren’t crazy. That she was in the wrong. Not you. Still, made you tremble in fear.

“Gonna be ok. She’s not gonna hurt you anymore.” Fred reassured, with a kiss to your head. Followed by George hugging you tightly. Just helping ground you, as the centaur finally stopped at the painting. She didn’t even ask for the password. As if she wanted to delay much needed rest.

“Rest, if you can. When you join me for our class, tomorrow, you are permitted to not join. You may just relax, and star gaze. That often times relaxes myself.” Firenze offered, as he laid down at the open wall. Allowing you three to get off. He understood you were a victim, and offered sanctuary where he could.

“Thanks…” You sniffled, as to not be rude. He knows, he knows. He gave you a pat on your head, and a smile, before taking his escort away. Leaving you three with your thoughts. The twins mostly thought of how to make whatever happens to Umbridge look like an accident, while you were still shaking from the ordeal. Murder plots can be for another time. You were first.

Escorted to the common room couch, you were as pampered as you could be. Hands properly wrapped, the herbal deal brewed, helping clean up the blood stains, using their latest invention to help clean up your bruise. Just doing what they could, as you sniffled and hiccuped.

Once done, you were soon lying against Fred. With George semi on top of you. As if some kind of pressure therapy. A means to make sure no one could touch you, or sneak up on you. Was nice. What was nicer was the random fellow classmates who walked around. May it to get something to drink, unable to sleep, what have you.

They took notice of you, could quickly grasp it was Umbridge, and let you have your comfort. May it be making sure you three had a blanket, staying extra quiet to not disturb you, or asking if you needed anything. Just some humanity against the darkness.

The comfort of the twins, the easing calm of the tea, and the sound of the ever lit fireplace. It helped you come back to earth again. Just what you needed. Reassurance that you were the victim. Not the other way around. Just deep breaths of fire, cinnamon, and gun powder.

You’ll be ok. You’ll be ok, and the twins promised.

As if they ever would break a promise.

[ike9306]

So, uh. Hot Dad Donovan rights.

Do you see my vision.

Donovan and Mechanism!Elias belong to @therealandian in the fic Search Through The Stars ( go read to have more of ✨️ the gay ✨️)

[un-pearable]

i still stand by my cole has anxiety hc. dudes just been sublimating it by force in order to tolerate a life on stage and the moment he got the chance he moved to the top of a mountain. not normal behavior. learning to wield a kickass scythe was just a bonus of finally not having to be stressed about being Perceived all the time

[hybbat]

You know a world where your ability to carry something is determined by quantity rather than size or weight is very easy to accept in a video game, because of mechanical convenience, but would probably be so strange in a story in any other medium, and I think a few more books and shows could stand to get a little funkier with the fundamentals of their reality like that.

[phoenixcatch7]

Having been on several fanfic sites for several years, I can hands down GUARANTEE you that anything 'classic media' has done, fanfic has done better.

[floorpancakes]

i refuse to let clamp off the hook for underutilising himawari's fucking fascinating character setup and traits but on a less serious level im obsessed with the concept of her as an instigator of chaos.

like she's way less airheaded than she seems and it doesn't come off like Default Airhead Girl Behaviour or even Default Girl Companion That Ships Her Friends primarily (like not as hard as some other series by comparison I mean she's very I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE by default) specifically she just seems like someone that thoroughly enjoys being a little shit in a sincere way and giggling at her dumbass friends and has a shade of high emotional intelligence about it all. like she's just girl of all time. she's i don't know where im going with this just take this low effort meme from when i watched the holic stage play on youtube this isn't a coherent thought it's like 2am ill come up with better thoughts later

[displayheartcode]

Sometimes when people have crushes on someone but they don’t really know them and they they tend to build up the person in their head and on a pedestal and don’t see the persons flaws…did Gideon do this with halley? What did he get right or wrong about her …also what surprised him the most about her as a person when he got to know her and they fell in love?

Yes!

Having been told stories secondhand from Rory/Ron and the general vague mythos of being the Girl Who Lived, Gideon builds up the idea of the perfect hero. Someone who is never scared, is always the bravest in the room, etc.

(He’s right about her trying to be brave. When Halley is given the chance, she’s viciously brave to the point of martyrdom.)

But the truth is she’s like any other angry girl in the world. Halley’s scared of the Dementors, of losing Sirius, how her fate is entwined with Voldemort’s, fumbling during a Quidditch match… She’ll slack off with her homework and make petty choices without learning her lesson from before. Also she can be something of a heroic dick. Forget telling the adults, she knows what she’s doing and will march to her death.

This is also a girl who is starved for affection. A scrappy orphan wanting someone to love her unconditionally, flaws and all.

[mongooseblues]

hi hi hello friends I am officially trying to catch up today so if you see a whole lot of fic reblogging from this account please reconcile your possible annoyance at the sheer volume of rbs with the knowledge that everything I’m about to reblog is Real Good.

I missed a lot and sicktember raised that amount to a Whole Lot and I’m not gonna be able to catch up on absolutely everything but there’s so much amazing content here and I get to binge it and that’s amazing and I love this lil community and I missed it dearly! There are some lovely messages in my ask inbox that I intend to respond to ASAP as well!

[the-bar-sinister]

The Mechanics of Emotion (17440 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

Simon had spent the past year living like it was going to be his last year on earth– because it was. But now he is still alive, and there are questions unasked that demand answers. Just what is his relationship with the detective going to be going forward? And what complications of his own does Bobby Fulbright have up his sleeve?

Not to mention that there are two more members of the Phantom Organization who've been captured that Simon now needs to prosecute, and Athena must defend. Love and chaos in LA. In justice we trust– but who understands the mechanics of emotion?

-

December 27, 10:35 am

Simon and Athena had been poking around the so-called "Blackquill Manor" for the last half an hour.

The house was a bit of a mess– mostly from the various unused rooms having accumulated dust and cobwebs, save for the staple rooms of the ‘kitchen, living room, and bedroom’...as well as a room it seemed Aura set up as a home lab, complete with various robotics half completed on a worktable that looked like it’d seen it’s fair share of experiments pass it’s surface.

Athena had had a sneezing fit when she tried entering one of the bedrooms. Simon’s parents bedroom…and gotten a noseful of dust and negligence. She’d been surprised when Simon’s old room had been neat as a pin, and even MORE surprised when Aura’s room wasn’t a mad scientist’s rats nest, and more… elegantly comfortable.

It was clear that while it would make a pretty good living space for Simon– it’d be a bit of an ordeal to get it as clean as it should be.

“I guess she tended to get so wrapped up in her work that she kept forgetting to come home, or ah…to dust the rooms she didn’t think about.” 

"Yes, it seems you were right to be dubious about my father's bed," Simon drawled as they made their way back to the living room.

“Yeahhhhh.” Athena grimaced as she sagged. “Don’t even wanna think about how many spiders may be in that thing.” 

"Disgusting. The worst of it is that Aura will likely get cross with me if I decide to clean it up."

“You really think so?” Athena’s eyes widened. “Huh…I mean…yeah actually knowing Aura you’re probably not wrong about that. She’d either laugh at it triggering my allergies if I helped, or get pissed with you messing with it…”

She tugged at her hair. “but your room’s really clean, at least.” 

"So I noticed." Simon crossed his arms, and glanced away. "My sister has clearly been taking care of it in my absence."

“She was hoping that she could save you before your execution.” Athena mused, thinking back over Aura’s furious defiance of fate. The desperation that led her to force a retrial no matter who may get hurt.

She couldn’t say she wouldn’t have gone that far herself if she’d somehow failed to become a lawyer in time. 

"Well, I suppose she got her wish– devil's bargain that it was. I hope she's enjoying the fruits of her labor." Simon's smile twitched, and Athena could feel his apprehension. It was clear that the thoughts of his sister were difficult for him.

Athena reached out to put her hand on his arm. 

“I don’t know…I.. I can’t bring myself to visit just yet. But Simon, if you’re not ready to talk about her, or if there’s something you’re worried about..” 

He leaned a little into her touch, and sighed. "There's plenty that I'm worried about, I'm afraid, Athena. We both know it wouldn't do any good for me to try to hide that from you. I visited her this morning and I… said very little about the last week."

Athena felt a ping of nerves as she murmured “...Halblicht?” 

She could imagine Aura’s reaction upon finding out, not only that the man who killed Athena’s mother was still alive, but was in some sort of ambiguous relationship with her brother…and that Simon had been lying about him for days.

It wasn’t only that– Athena had no idea if Aura even forgave her.

No, every detail of the past week was a time bomb waiting to go off in Aura Blackquill’s already tumultuous and volatile heart. 

"Halblicht," Simon agreed with a leaden tone. "I can't imagine explaining it to her. Saying it to her face."

Simon's anxiety and sadness warred together in an emotion she didn't often feel from Simon– shame.

Athena’s own emotions were complicated– unsure and nervous about her own future, but she knew one thing.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed , Simon. ” She squeezed his arm. “I don’t know if she’ll understand. Probably not right away. But you don’t have to feel ashamed of your feelings about him. Aura…I care about her too…but her wounds of the heart aren’t healed and it means she’s prone to lashing out. That’s not a reflection on your feelings.” 

Simon put his hand on her arm, and she could feel the tension running through him. "Whatever you say, and however right or wrong you may be– I still feel that shame. I don't know what might be able to abate it. But I will bear it for now, because well– "

Athena felt the pulse of joy from Simon's heart that could only be one thing. Love.

“Because you love him, Simon…” Athena gave him an outward smile. “I can tell.” 

Her internal emotions had dulled to the low and quiet hum she was well used to, the bare flickers of personal anxiety and joy for Simon, and something unfamiliar and flickering

It’s no surprise he loves them. They’re charming, fascinating, kind even after everything, and provided comfort and affection during the worst time in Simon’s life. Even with the heartbreak and confusion, love bloomed easy enough. She quashed her anxieties, her selfish worries of ‘will I still fit’ in favor of nursing the quiet hum of joy to the surface and her smile.

“We’ll figure out what to do about Aura. I– I’ll do what I can.” 

"Thank you, Athnea, I ah…" he trailed off and squeezed her hand. "I feel somewhat unworthy of your endless kindness."

Athena’s smile didn’t leave as she squeezed his hand tightly. 

“Simon, come on. You know you’re not unworthy. You’ve got seven years of missed kindness to catch back up on, right?” She looked up at him “and I care about you, you know? I really do want you to be happy. No matter what.” 

"I appreciate that, Athena. I–" he glanced away, though his hand didn't leave hers. "Why don't we find out if my sister has any bloody coffee in the kitchen, shall we? Instead of standing around in the living room like a pair of awkward lumps."

Athena squeezed his hand and started to drag him towards the kitchen. “Alright, alright…but if she doesn’t, I’ll buy us coffee on Mr. Wright’s dime as SOON as we leave, yeah?” 

"Please do," he scowled, following her toward his old family kitchen. "But, it's not about the coffee in this case. It's about…"

His anxiety flashed bright in her mind.

Athena twitched, a physical reaction to a strong emotion that reverberated through her as she pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside.

“...” she let him continue.

"About us, Athena. If you'd hear me out. Finish the conversation we were having in the car."

He didn't look at her, instead glancing around at the kitchen that must once have been familiar to him.

Athena took a deep, shaky breath , before she flashed her biggest smile. 

“I’m ready to get back to that, yeah. I’ll hear you out. Do you need me to help you look around, or…or should I have a seat?” 

"Why don't you help me if you don't mind? It's not as if I know my way around the kitchen any more,"

The kitchen was pin-neat, but absolutely filled with gadgets of all sorts…many of which looked like they’d never been used. Some kind of modified mixer sat quietly beside a spice cabinet fitted with a gauge displaying a temperature reading and some interface on one end of the countertop…and an absolutely ornate kitchen scale still bearing traces of flour from the last time it’d been used.

Athena wandered, trying to open the spice cabinet first before it beeped at her and she startled back .“Hah!?” 

Immediately, Simon was there behind her to steady her before she could fall over. "Careful there. Or you're going to make a nasty mess on my sister's kitchen floor."

Athena’s heart beat quickly as she leaned back against him “but it yelled at me, Simon!”

She couldn’t help the indignant whine in her voice.

"And? I yell at you all the time!" He huffed, but she felt his amusement and could tell that behind her he was grinning that sly grin of his. He righted her on her feet and then released her. "Another funny surprise from my sister it seems."

Athena huffed. “I’m going to shake her when she’s out of prison. Shake her VERY MUCH for this.”

She had turned pink, and was brushing herself off when she looked up at it again. “Looks like you have to select what kind of spices you want…and it must unlock them? Is this thing temperature and air controlled?” 

Simon observed the strange and elaborate cabinet configuration. "It would seem so. A nefarious barrier between ourselves and our goal."

“She really is kind of a cad, isn’t she?” Athena huffed. “At least it’s only a button press away.”

She reached up and cycled before she found something reading ‘coffees and tea’ and hit the green enter button.

Off to her left, one of the cabinet lights flicked green and clicked open with a hiss of air pressure. 

Simon bustled over toward the lighted cabinets. "Ah, here we are, I suppose? And one of these gadgets ought to make coffee. Shame she doesn't have something simpler."

“I think she thinks it’s organized in her own mind! And it’s probably alright for keeping food fresh for longer, too…” She shook her head. “You’re a samurai with a sister who’s a technology obsessed sci-fi antagonist.” 

"How miserably anime," he drawled. He got down the coffee, and went hunting for something resembling a coffee maker.

“You say that as if you hate anime, Simon.” Athena smiled at him as she trotted on his heels. “...and I know for a fact you’re kind of a huge nerd for it. I still gotta get you and Halblicht to sit down with me for …for..ah..”

She trailed off “Macross, Love across the universe…”

Next to the mixer there was a glass pitcher and some kind of gadget sat on top of it, perhaps her own take on an automatic coffee machine– with a twist. It didn’t look like it was going to explode if they used it.

Simon snorted as he looked over the gadgets poking at them with thinly veiled disdain. 

"Get me some water, Athena," he harumphed. "I think this is the right machine. As for anime, I prefer live action dramas. But I'll admit I was intrigued by the one you were trying to show us."

He measured out coffee grounds, putting them in the filter and giving it a dubious look as he put it into place.

Athena was all but stopped as she went to go grab the water, when she noticed a switch on the machine. “Simon, it looks like it’s connected to the sink system.”

She leaned over and pushed the switch down.

A small arm popped up a moment later, and began to swirl around the pot at a slow and steady interval as hot water poured from somewhere below the machine and into the grounds.

It was some sort of automatic pour over machine.

“You were intrigued though, huh? It’s one of my favorites, you know.” 

Simon stared at the machine in disbelief and betrayal. He shook his head and focused on Athena instead.

"One of your favorites, hmm? Well, I'll have to tolerate sitting through it for certain then."

Athena laughed, leaning on the counter as the machine went about its work .

“Geeze Simon, you must be a riot at parties. But if you’ll deign to sit through it…I think you’ll have fun."

Simon smirked and tapped his temple. "I wouldn't know, I haven't been to a party in a long time."

He watched as the machine squirted steaming coffee into a pair of mugs.

“We’ll have to hold one for you special then.” Athena walked over and dropped herself into one of the chairs. 

Simon picked up the full mugs, and plopped gracelessly down into the chair right next to her. He handed her a cup of coffee.

"Are you trying to torment me, then?"

Athena grabbed the coffee with an impish wink. “Maybe a little bit. I’m allowed to have my fun after you kept me busy for 7 years trying to save your butt.” 

"I suppose I can concede that– but I won't let you harass me uncontested. Consider yourself warned." He smirked over his coffee and took a long sip. "Hmm. Adequate."

“I’ve been warned , Mr. Blackquill.’ Athena took a sip of it as well. It, honestly was pretty good, but– she supposed Simon must have had some rigid standards when it came to coffee. “It’s pretty good?” 

"It's acceptable. A bitter brew to accompany a bitter conversation, I suppose." He took another sip and looked over at her. "Would you like to start, or shall I?"

“Bitter conversation…” Athena’s smile faltered. “You should start, Simon. I’m likely to get tripped up trying to manage emotions and …and get nowhere fast.” 

"Alright then, so be it." He took a deep breath, and turned toward her more fully, coffee in his hands. "Athena– for seven long years I lived among scoundrels and the condemned, as a man likewise condemned. As a scoundrel. Such was my company. The dregs of society. The ruffians and outcasts. Such things leave their mark– and I was not so noble a man to begin with."

His dark eyes stayed trained on her, watching her. His torrid emotions had become almost placid– not quiet, but harmonious. Inscrutable.

Athena nodded slowly. “...it’s only natural it’d leave a mark, Simon.”

She folded her hands around the coffee mug to stare him down. “Even if you didn’t commit the crime, socially speaking you were as much a criminal as the rest…”

"So I was. And so I am. I have known many kinds of scoundrels these last seven years. Walked among them. Learned their ways. Been changed by them. I strive to be a good man, Athena, but I am a ruffian."

Athena’s brow furrowed slightly as she listened. It was true, of course, he’d been learning from ‘scoundrels and ruffians’ as he put it for 7 years. Made friends with them, including some who’d stepped back into the people around her’s lives as their sentences abated…

It was only natural that it’d change him from the man she’d known growing up, into the man she faced in court….but… “...can I ask you something, Simon?” 

"You may," he said evenly. "Though I have more to say."

He gestured for her to speak.

“No…” Athena held her hand up. “Go on. This can wait till I hear the rest.”

Are you trying to convince me that you’re somehow not ‘noble’ enough for me?

He took a breath. "Very well. Athena– you deserve a good man. You deserve a prince who will ride into the sunset with you on a white horse. You deserve a man who will devote his whole heart to you, and to no one else. But I am not that man. I am a ruffian. And I know the ways of ruffians."

I knew it. Her shoulders sagged, just the slightest as he continued and her eyes flicked down towards the table.  He’s trying to convince me he’s not good enough. That I’m looking for…deserve…a prince to come riding to my rescue like we joked about that night. But I’m not like most people. My heart can’t…won’t…feel the same things they do in the same ways…and I don’t care if the rules of society say a pure and devoted prince is what I should somehow want. He’d changed since the UR-1 Incident…but did I ever make him think it was a bad thing outside his imprisonment? Between that…Europe’s scene…and the Wunder Bar and the Wright Anything Agency…why would I ever judge him for any of that?

His dark gaze swept over her as he spoke. 

"I don't know if you want a ruffian, when you could have a prince. And I don't know what the hell my dear detective twins want. But if you want a ruffian, Athena, and if they're… amenable to such a thing… we could perhaps come to a rough arrangement. The three– four of us. It's no noble romance that you deserve. But that's all I have to offer you."

Athena startled as he continued, her mouth open to object before he’d continued. Her gaze softened, and she turned a surprised pink. 

“....I don’t think I deserve a noble romance, Simon.” she said in a quiet and even voice, omitting any of her usual projection. She rubbed her arm, and gave him a small but genuine smile.

“And not because of self esteem. I was the one who came on the white horse, but I’m not a prince. I’m unusual– I’m difficult to understand, and I see things in ways most people don’t. I’m not …I’m not looking for a prince , or a noble romance. I’m looking for someone who cares about me, and I care for them back.” She turned a slight pink despite her subdued emotional state. “....and I did find that cramped bed in Cauli strangely comfortable.” 

He lifted his chin, looking her over, and he reached out his free hand and touched her arm. "You said as much in the car. I wasn't sure if I was reading too much into your intentions when you said it, but– it's why I felt like I could say what I just did."

Athena’s eyes hesitantly met with his, and she placed her hand against his fingers with a quiet smile. 

“I’m glad you could say it…and I mean it when I say I’m willing to try it, Simon. Coming to some kind of ‘rough arrangement’ if they’re amenable, I mean. I can’t promise I’ll be smooth or that I won’t falter here and there, I’m still learning a lot about how to process these sorts of feelings , but…” 

Simon's fingers curled around her arm gently as she put her hand on his. "I don't think that I'm far ahead of you, admittedly."

She nodded, and leaned over the table. “We’re both learning, Mr. Halblicht is sure to be too– it’s likely to be messy, but I’m willing to try. You know my feelings for you, and I can assure you that..that I want this, if we’re all amenable to it.” 

"The heart wants what the heart wants, I suppose," he said, looking off into the distance. He slipped his arm around her. "This is going to be messy, Athena, if it goes forward. We're likely going to hurt each other in unexpected ways. But I suppose I'm a selfish man in my way."

Athena leaned into his arm and nodded slowly.

“The heart wants what the heart wants. And I’m– I’m a little selfish myself. I don’t want to give up those moments of joy I started to find in Cauli, with you or with them.” She smiled wanly. “I’ll wade through any mess, or hurt, if it means a future where we can be a part of each other's lives. If we’re all amenable...” 

"I'm supposed to meet up with Halblicht in a couple of hours or so," Simon murmured thoughtfully. "I suppose it will be a good idea to get the conversation out of the way."

Athena took a deep breath, and looped both her arms around him in a sudden gesture, leaning under his arm with a small smile 

“It’s probably for the best. Like ripping a bandaid off. Can’t know how to move forward if we’re still in limbo, right?” 

"No. And I've been in limbo for too long, Athena. Seven years too long. Do forgive me if it means that I rush forward."

Athena leaned up and kissed his cheek “I think we’ve all spent too long in limbo, Simon. I’m…I’m not exactly keen on waiting around cautiously either. So I’d say you’re more than forgiven already!” 

"Thank you, Athena. And I'm sorry too, for all the ways in the future that I will surely hurt you, and let you down. I'm a humble man– I know it will happen."

Athena chuckled softly. 

“It might. But life isn’t a fairy tale or a noble stage play. All that’s just part of life.” She poked his chest. “I’m sure to let you down , or even hurt you, sometimes too.”

Simon laughed incredulously. "I'm almost looking forward to it. A relationship, perhaps, is like a struggle in the courtroom. But– let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still have to take our case to Bobby and Robert."

Athena winked at him. 

“We know a lot about struggling in the courtroom, Mr. Blackquill.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully “...if we gotta take our case to them…should we prepare evidence?” 

Simon gave her a dubious look and raised an eyebrow. "I'm curious just what you'll suggest we prepare."

“Well…if the things I’ve gleaned from the sorts of shows and comics Mr. Wright owns are true– a powerpoint or slideshow is traditional.” 

Simon stared at her with increasing dumbfounded condescension. "Go on."

Athena shrunk down in her chair, and finally drank a sip of her cooling coffee. 

“you…put…together a slideshow…of…uhm..” she murmured “pictures and pros and cons…” She took a longer sip of the coffee with a flush “OH! M ixtapes! Mixtapes are even more traditional! Mr. Wright even endorsed that one!” 

"A mix tape. A slide-show. And what, pray tell Cykes-dono, do you suggest we include here? Go on. Give me an example of what the content of this would be."

Athena gave him an awkward smile, shrugging her shoulders with a grin “A song that makes you think of the three of us? To uh…really sell it as a polypossibility?” 

Simon put his hand to his face, and dragged it down his cheek, staring at her in utter horror. "... yes I think Bobby would love that."

[unknownmusing]

The Witcher Fanstory - Geralt/Regis Fic: 'The Witcher's Bane'

----------------------------------------

Summary:

After a Contract goes heavily wrong, Geralt of Rivia - the Witcher known also as the White Wolf - is left for dead where is discovered by his long-term friend Regis, who realises he must do something which no Higher Vampire must do - turn a person into one of their own kind.

Months later,after the events of the failed contract, Geralt with no memory of the failed Contract is summoned to Beauclair, Toussaint by the Duchess Anna Henrietta to solve a series of grisly murders being done by a mysterious beast.

However things become complicated when Geralt begins to find himself experiencing strange flashbacks of a Contract he doesn't remember ever doing, a strange person tending to him and feeling they mean something to him.

Will Geralt find out answers in Toussaint? Who is the mysterious person that tended to him? And what is their connection with the Beast, himself and the grisly murders happening?

-------------------------------

Notes:

Flashback in italics

Contract goes wrong for Geralt leaving him heavily injured and near-death

Involves the Bruxa moment from the Witcher game trailer 'A Night to Remember'

Pictures sourced from Gwent Wiki and other various sources

 Fanvid which one created to connect to this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KljvuEXiyWU

----------------------------

----------------

Prologue - 'The Night of when Silver met Fangs' (1 of 2)

Location - Outskirts of White Orchard, Temeria - East of Vizima - Abandoned Farmstead - Late Evening

A vague Contract, half of the writing washed off by the rain or intentionally left out by whoever had written it hangs limply on the Notice Board. 

Taking it down, the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia -  swung himself up into Roach's saddle feeling the glares of the villagers and hearing the snide whispers and occasional spitting on the ground coming from them when he makes his way out of White Orchard to the outskirts.

To them he is just a 'mutant' or 'freak' nothing more, nothing less.

--------------------

Wolves asleep amidst the trees Bats all a swaying in the breeze But one soul lies anxious wide awake Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths....

A lullaby is being sung.

Golden cat-like eyes watch from the shadows as the solitary female makes her way to the shoreline of a large lake - it's waters glistening in the moonlight - nearby a abandoned farmstead, where she bends down picking up a small doll - one a child might play with - still continuing to sing.

For your dolly Polly sleep has flown Don't dare let her tremble alone For the witcher, heartless, cold Paid in coin of gold He comes he'll go leave naught behind But heartache and woe Deep, deep woe.....

Stepping out of the shadows, Geralt, waits until the female fully turns herself around to face him with her hands still clutching the child's doll tightly. 

His wolf medallion vibrating on his chest, indicating she is not human after all, when she steps slightly closer to him - keeping though a certain distance. 

Both of them know the reason why - the unaswered question hanging between the space between them, waiting to come down on the Prey being hunted by the Predator, like an executioner's axe severing the neck of a traitor. 

Have you come to kill me, Witcher?"

---------------------------------------

[fruti2flutie]

me: holy fuck how am i writing so much

me: [regularly uses fanfic to cope with the uncontrollable anxiety abt the current state of my life & decisions outside of my control]

me: oh

[lovelesslittleloser]

What are your thoughts that you acquired a friend through monsterfucking posts?

Kinda fuckin weird but what else would you expect from tumblr

What are your thoughts on how I saw your monsterfucking tag and aggressively befriended you? :)

[one-winged-dreams]

Wakfu spoilers will be under cut because Owen hasn’t seen it and doesn’t know any of them

Catch me rewriting Nox’s death scene with instead of him withering away because he’s lost his will to live, I grab him and tell him that I love him and beg him not to leave me because what am I supposed to do without him?

Because he’s such a GOOD FUCKING VILLAIN, and I guess the og ending was good for him but I want an ending where he moves on from failing to bring his family back because he and I found each other and he has that to hang onto now.

[power-chords]

Can you please explain your dialogue theory of fanfiction?

In short, that dialogue, more than anything, makes or breaks a fanfic. What do posts like "He would not fucking say that" and "They would NOT have communication skills that good" have in common? Talk. Characters expressing themselves to one another. The faithful recreation of identifiable speech patterns is weighted heavily in the evaluation of a fic's quality. By "speech patterns" I do not just mean the semantic content of a given character's expression, but idiosyncrasies of style and slang, vocabulary and idiom, even gesture, musicality, and rhythm.

Of course believable dialogue is far from the only thing that makes a good fanfic Good. And there are forms of fic writing, particularly highly abbreviated ones like drabbles and ficlets, that in practice tend to de-emphasize its significance. But if we are talking about the romantic, erotic shippy stuff that is the meat and potatoes of online fandom, dialogue does the heaviest lifting short of the consummation itself. Arguably more so! It's the real keystone to the catharsis, and often the catalyst for it. Is there a confession occurring? A provocation? An evasion or ultimatum? Zoom out, big picture: What is the most potent and fundamental mechanic for developing complexity, tension, and transformation within a relationship, getting it to go from one thing to another? Making these two idiots talk to each other! Often clumsily and indirectly and maladaptively, at the worst possible time and in the worst possible situation, about anything or everything but what they should be — but talk they usually do.

What makes fanfic specifically so challenging and rewarding in this regard is that the talking is as much a feat of translation as invention, because both reader and writer are working off an existing model. Liberties taken with plot, form, and even narrative voice have wider buffer zones; you can get creative with circumventing the events of canon while still conforming to its emotional and substantive essence.

But the training wheels come off the moment you open your mouth to speak in another character's voice. And man, nothing will break a reader's immersion quite like he would not fucking say that.