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corrodedseraphine · 1 year

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have mercy on me | #3 hold me while you wait

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

chapter summary: As the tears from your cheeks dry up you find yourself longing for someone who was once your favorite person in the world. Eddie still doesn't give up and fights for your attention. In between, there is a tender moment of weakness, and an irresistible proposition appears in front of you. Also, you begin to realize things you hadn't thought of before.

the story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

song that I used: Lewis Capaldi - Hold Me While You Wait

@i-me-mine thank you for being here and looking at my stuff with your talented eye before it gets published, dear ♥

I think we can say that this chapter will focus on Eddie a little bit more, I hope it's fine! Plans have changed a bit and instead of three chapters, there will be four, thank you very much to everyone who shared their opinion about it and helped me decide! Thank you also for being willing to wait for one more chapter!

It took a very long time before you stopped crying. You were no longer able to count all the nights you had cried. However, the fact that the tears had stopped flowing did not mean that the pain had stopped. Now, instead of crying into your pillow, you spent hours before bedtime staring aimlessly at the ceiling and couldn't help thinking that all you wanted at that moment was his arms wrapped around your body. You longed for him. Longing was fighting with pain, you didn't know what you wanted anymore. Part of you didn't want to see him ever again, while the other part couldn't stand the craving. The two contradictions were at war within you driving you crazy and causing sleepless nights.

Eddie took a completely new plan. Since you actually needed the space he wanted to give it to you, but he also made sure that he didn't completely disappear from your daily life. He paid special attention to always make at least one appearance. When your eyes met in the school corridor he immediately smiled genuinely and waved at you. Even if at first your gaze immediately escaped in a completely different direction, it didn't matter. The important thing was that you noticed him. That you knew he noticed you. Every few days, first thing in the morning when you opened your locker little notes flew out of it, which always wished you a good day. You knew perfectly well who was writing them, you would recognize the handwriting anywhere. When you entered the class you shared together a carefully wrapped cookie was waiting on your seat on the desk, and attached to it was another piece of paper. A slightly larger one, on which he left various drawings or silly riddles and rebuses. At first you guarded against it. You gave all the cookies to Robin, and quickly hid the riddles and drawings at the bottom of your backpack. Eddie, however, did not give up. There were days when he was your daily routine, when you spent almost twenty-four hours in each other's company, and it still wasn't enough. Now he had to fight for every second, but he didn't mind. He knew it was worth it, especially when, a few weeks later, he saw you once again roll your eyes at the sight of a cookie, but this time you didn't immediately throw it into your backpack. Instead, you ate it and then looked at the attached piece of paper, where there was a particularly silly rebus. When he noticed the gentle smile that flashed across your expression he felt like getting up from his seat and falling to his knees in front of you begging for forgiveness, because he again wanted to be the reason for your smile. This time, unfortunately, he couldn't take the shortcut, but that didn't scare him anymore. Lately his life had consisted of quick, convenient and reckless decisions that did not end well.

After a whole week of barely sleeping nights, Friday was a challenge for you. You felt as if you were behind a fog, completely like the outside world was not reaching you. Like a shadow you roamed the halls following Robin and trying to keep up with her. At each class your eyelids became incredibly heavy, and the teachers' voices seemed to become much more monotonous and soporific. To make matters worse, after class you had to deal with an essay that had a deadline on Monday.

A pleasant silence greeted you in the library. All the tables were occupied so you were not the only one who left everything to the last minute. You moved straight to your favorite place. In the fantasy section you sat on the floor between the shelves, looking around. Whenever you came here with Eddie you sat in exactly the same place looking here for inspiration for songs or his new campaigns. You involuntarily smiled at the memory of the hours you shared together between these bookcases. The closeness that was between you, the warmth that filled you from the inside but also enveloped you on the outside. You missed it so badly.

Giving in to nostalgia, you reached to the very bottom of your backpack where all the messages and drawings he had left you recently were still lying. Of them all, one in particular caught your attention. A sketch of a lighthouse with sea waves crashing against it. Feeling the familiar sting in your heart, you put the rest back in your bag and took out your textbook, wanting to change the course of your thoughts. Unfortunately, it wasn't easy because the thought of whether the storm was definitely over came back like a boomerang. Resigned, you closed your eyes for a moment, resting your head against the cold wall. Inhale, exhale...inhale...exhale...everything will work out. Someday. Eventually.

The Hellfire campaign had just come to an end when Steve walked into the drama room to pick up the kids and drive them home. When everything was cleaned up everyone left the school. Eddie kept a few steps behind the teens and Steve.

"Steve! Holy shit, Steve!" Robin ran out of the school panicked. "I can't find her anywhere!"

"Robin, calm down. Who can't you find?"

"y/n! We were supposed to meet after band rehearsal, she was supposed to be waiting for me in the library because she was working on some essay, but when I went there all the tables were empty, I searched all the classrooms but she's nowhere to be found, I even called her house, but her mom said she's not back yet, I'm already running out of ideas!" Robin's worry was justified. The three of you met when you started working at Scoops Ahoy, and what you went through together made the very worst scenarios pop into your friend's head.

"Calm down, I'm sure you must have passed each other somewhere, or she just forgot that you were supposed to meet." Steve tried to calm her down.

"We need to split up and look for her!" said Dustin.

"I'm sure she's somewhere in the area!" added Lucas.

Eddie listened to the conversation. He knew that you would never forget meeting with Robin, which also began to worry him. While the others were conferring about where you might have been he unnoticed returned to the school.

You were standing on the beach at the shore. The water was gently brushing your feet and the sun was pleasantly casting warm rays on your face. Eddie was calling your name from afar, you turned with a smile in the direction of his voice but you didn't see him anywhere. You started looking around but still couldn't see him anyplace. Suddenly the sky was obscured by dark storm clouds, and in the blink of an eye the calm surface of the water began to storm, and the waves piled up and smashed with loud bang against everything they encountered in their route. Only then you saw him. He was fighting the element, trying with all his might to stay afloat. The water swamped him at every moment, he was desperately catching air waving his arms while still calling your name. This time, however, it wasn't in a warm and cheerful tone like the one at the beginning, now he was begging for your help, with horror in his eyes as he watched you stand motionless on the edge. It's not that you didn't want to help him. You wanted to, in fact, so badly, but you couldn't. You were paralyzed and, despite your inner struggle, you were unable to overcome the force that held you down. You felt like screaming, but your mouth wouldn't open either. "He is drowning. He's drowning because of you." some voice whispered it in your ear. You were a prisoner of your own body and of a voice you had never heard before. His cries for help were getting shriller and shriller, the more you wanted to move you were met with more resistance. Suddenly, the light of a lighthouse was pointed straight at him. "This is your fault. Now take a good look because this is the last of the breaths he will take before the water floods his lungs and consumes him."

"y/n!" Eddie immediately knelt down next to you when he found you hunched over and leaning against the bookshelf. You were mumbling something under your breath; he could see you were having a nightmare. When Robin said you were not sitting at any of the tables in the library he knew where to look for you. He knew perfectly well that he would find you in your place. Nevertheless, he did not expect to find you sleeping there. Beside you lay a textbook and on the textbook was a drawing of a lantern he had left for you.

He gently grabbed your arm and, repeating your name over and over, began to shake you slightly. After a while you woke up terrified. Your eyes jumped around the room quickly and in panic until they finally stopped on his face.

"You're alive." you said still not fully conscious. Not in control, feeling as if it was still a dream you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Eddie was in shock. Why would he be dead? This question, could wait. After a moment's hesitation, he reciprocated the hug feeling as if he was on cloud nine having you in his arms again. He nuzzled against your neck, snuggling his face into its bend. He felt like crying. The warmth that emanated from you instantly chased away the coldness in his heart that was there, it was overwhelming. He did not say a word for fear that the slightest whisper would frighten you away.

Your breathing was still rapid and irregular. Whatever you were dreaming about must have been really scary. With one hand he began to stroke your back, remembering that this was one of the gestures that always calmed you down in nervous situations.

Neither of you expected the moment of closeness, but you both allowed yourselves to enjoy it. No matter how much he broke your heart it was still only in his arms that you felt safe. You wanted to melt into his embrace and stay there forever. Unfortunately, when you finally calmed down, the shock of the dream passed and you realized everything that was happening you quickly moved away and got up from the floor. Eddie with sadness in his eyes watched as a thick, unbreakable wall grew between you again.

"I'm sorry. It was a moment of weakness." You said quietly picking up your things from the floor.

"Right..." He didn't even hide the sorrow in his voice. "You should...uh- you should go to find Robin, together with Harrington and the rest are out of their minds what's happening to you." You nodded and in silence you both walked back to the parking lot.

"Where the hell have you been?" shouted Robin running up to you.

"In the library, I kinda fell asleep..." you replied embarrassed.

"Robin was already thinking that the Russians had kidnapped you." Dustin laughed.

"Fortunately, no. Can we go home now?" you asked looking at your friend.

"On condition that you will stay with me tonight. Someone has to see to it that you finally get some sleep." replied Robin rolling her eyes. "Since you won't take care of yourself, someone has to do it for you."

Eddie and the rest of them watched as your silhouettes moved away as you walked faster toward your bikes. He was glad that you had Robin with you and that Robin wanted to help you, wanted to take care of you, but he couldn't overtake the desire to be in her place. He was the one who wanted to take care of you. He would give a lot to be able to take you home now and tuck you to sleep in his arms.

"How did you know where to find her?" asked Steve.

"She was in the library." Eddie shrugged his shoulders.

"Robin said she wasn't there," he said.

"She said she wasn't at any table, and she was right, which doesn't change the fact that she was in the library all that time." he smiled nostalgically. "She was, um... In our favorite place," he said.

"You have to be patient." Steve sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks for your help."

He knew patience was never his best side but what else could he do? Even if he never gets you all back like he wanted, maybe one more moment of weakness like today will come along?

"Robin! Holy shit, Robin!" you ran through the corridor straight towards your friend. On the opposite side of the corridor stood the entire Hellfire Club looking at you with curiosity. You were bursting with excitement.

"What happened?" she asked catching you in the middle as you stumbled and almost fell over.

"Do you remember The Soul? Where the competition was?"

"yeah, I remember."

"This morning they called me and asked if I'd like to perform on Friday night! They are organizing some kind of 'evening for the broken-hearted'" with your fingers you made a gesture of quotation marks. "And they said they would love to hear more similar songs performed by me like the one I sang at the contest."

"Oh my gosh that's wonderful!" Robin exclaimed and the two of you started jumping up and down with excitement.

"Hey y/n!" shouted Gareth after overhearing all your conversation. "Congratulations!" he and the rest came up to you.

"When is the performance?" asked Simon.

"Saturday at 8 pm." you replied. The smile didn't leave your face. It had been a long time since Eddie had seen you so radiant. At this sight, a smile pressed itself to his lips.

"Can we come?" asked Dustin.

"If you guys want to, sure you can. I could use a little support." You laughed nervously, and after a moment your gaze fell on Eddie who was standing at the back. He smiled at you. I'm proud of you. He wanted to convey that. You only reciprocated the smile slightly and turned towards Robin saying that you must go now.

Saturday turned out to be a very hard day. Eddie had not had the strength to get out of bed since early morning. Overwhelmed by everything, he lay hugging his pillow letting his own brain plunge him even further. Stupid. Worthless. Hopeless. These and many other unpleasant words scrolled alternately in his mind. The hatred he felt for himself was slowly beginning to scare him. As it reached four in the afternoon, he heard a quiet knock on the door.

"You okay, son?" Wayne asked, stepping inside. Not knowing what to answer, the younger Munson remained silent. "Listen...I don't mind you spending all day in bed, but why don't you at least eat something? I made soup." The man sat down next to him on the bed.

"What if I'm the same as him?" a whisper filled the room.

"Who?" Wayne answered only after a longer moment.

"My father."

"Eddie what the-"

"No, Wayne. Listen." The boy quickly broke off and sat down, interrupting his uncle. "Problems with the law? They're there, I'm a fucking drug dealer, just like him, I hurt everyone who loves me, I destroy everything that comes across my path, I'm a goddamn failure, just like him! What's next, will I kill someone too? Maybe I should sooner do it to myself-"

"Edward Munson!" Wayne cut off before Eddie could finish his sentence. He hadn't raised his voice at him in years. The last time was in his teenage years when he started to get into selling drugs. "Under this roof, you don't have the right to talk about yourself like that, do you understand?" His voice was serious and firm. "You're not like him, and I know because-" the man was at a loss for words for a moment. "Because I raised you! And I raised my boy well enough to know that he didn't do these wrongs on purpose. You have a good heart, just like your mother, and nothing will change that, no matter how large of a monster you think yourself to be." He sighed. "You lost your way son. You had a right to it, but just because you got lost doesn't mean you'll never find your way home again. I know it's hard to deal with, but never in your life compare yourself to that man. You can't." His uncle's stone face was now replaced by a worried expression. They had always avoided the subject of his father like a fire, and both probably didn't expect such a strong reaction.

"'m sorry." Eddie muttered.

"It's alright, son." the man replied more calmly. "Do you want to come out of your den and eat soup with your old man?" He smiled slightly.

They both sat down at the table and began to eat in silence. It was a pleasant family silence, during which they simply felt comfortable in each other's company. Eddie knew that no matter how hard he tried he would never in his life be able to show his uncle how grateful he was for his presence in his life.

"Y/n has a gig tonight, she's going to sing her songs." said Eddie looking at the table.

"Aren't you going to go?"

"I don't know... I don't know if he wants me to be there."

"Listen to me boy, even if things haven't been very good between you two lately...That girl has always been there for you, I think you should be there and support her no matter what."

Just then, a knock on the door sounded in the trailer. Without waiting for an invitation, the entire Corroded Coffin rushed inside greeting Wayne.

"What the hell dude? You don't mean to tell me you want to go to her show looking like that!" Gareth made a disgusted face looking at his friend. Wayne involuntarily snorted with laughter. "Go take a shower and get dressed somehow nicely so we don't embarrass her!"

"Don't even try to say you're not going, that option is out of the question." Jeff added while threatening him with his finger. Munson just nodded his head and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

When they arrived at the place you were slowly getting ready to go on stage. Robin held your shoulders and Steve said something quickly while you took deep breaths. Eddie immediately remembered how it was you who calmed him down before his first performance by holding his hand and repeating over and over that it would be okay. That girl was always there for you. Wayne's words rolled around in his head. Unfortunately, no matter how much he wanted to do the exact same thing for you, he knew it could have made things even worse, so he sat down at one of the tables in the back without taking his eyes off you. You looked around nervously, stopping your gaze at all the familiar faces that were there. The kids were sitting in the front row stealing all your attention by smiling at you and waving. You could see with the naked eye that their presence and excitement touched you. Your gaze traveled farther until it found Gareth, Jeff and Simon who also gave you wide smiles of encouragement. At the very end, your gaze stopped on a familiar storm of curls and dark brown eyes that you would have found at the end of the world. Good luck. He mouthed and placed his hand slightly above your heart on his guitar pick necklace that you had given him. I'm here for you. You're going to be great. There were so many things he wanted to convey to you with that one simple gesture.

You sang some covers and songs, and those songs you wrote yourself. He was proud of you. Your songs were so beautiful that they touched everyone in the hall, looking around the room he saw some people wiping away tears surreptitiously. He himself found it hard to hold back, still remembering that he was the main inspiration for writing these songs. The last song was a new one, he certainly hadn't heard it, but like each of the previous ones, it went straight to the heart.

I'm waiting up, saving all my precious time Losing light, I'm missing my same old us Before we learned our truth too late Resigned to fate, fading away

So tell me, can you turn around? I need someone to tear me down Oh, tell me, can you turn around? But either way

Hold me while you wait I wish that I was good enough If only I could wake you up My love, my love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while?

Tell me more, tell me something I don't know Did we come close to having it all? If you're gonna waste my time Let's waste it right

And hold me while you wait I wish that I was good enough If only I could wake you up My love, my love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while?

I wish you cared a little more I wish you'd told me this before My love, my love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while?

This is you, this is me, this is all we need Is it true? My faith is shaken, but I still believe This is you, this is me, this is all we need So won't you stay a while?

And hold me while you wait I wish that I was good enough If only I could wake you up My love, my love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while?

I wish you cared a little more I wish you'd told me this before My love, my love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while? Stay a while Stay a while My love, my love, my love Won't you stay a while?

Somewhere in all the hurricane of pain, he noticed something else. Listening to the words, he saw things he had been yearning to see for a long time, but was still unsure. Did you miss him? Were you missing the same old you? He would hold you and stay a while, he would stay for as long as you wanted him to. My faith is shaken, but I still believe. These words were his lifeline. He grasped at them like a drowning man grasps at a razor. Yet it wasn't that simple. What if he misunderstood everything? What if he interpreted everything wrong and is only getting his hopes up unnecessarily?

When you finished playing people stood up to start applauding you. He felt himself starting to run out of air, it was too crowded. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, he quickly walked out in front of the building. With shaking hands, he lit a cigarette and leaned against a brick wall. Deep breaths, Munson. Deep breaths. He repeated to himself in his mind, but those inhalations were getting shallower and shakier.

"Eddie?" at the sound of your voice he jumped up and quickly extinguished his cigarette by throwing it into a trashcan nearby. He looked at you as if you were a ghost. A figment of his imagination, because after all, it was impossible for you to choose him out of everyone who was there for you, right? His intrusive thoughts started working at top speed saying that you were definitely here just to yell at him for coming here. To remind you that he shouldn't be here because you don't want to see him anymore, and that he should finally give you a break and disappear from your life.

"I know that because of what I did to you you think that I didn't care about you and that's why I chose her. But that's not true, I did care and still do." he said. He was losing control of himself, something inside him was breaking. He couldn't hold it in anymore. "You think you were not good enough, but that's not true. You were more than good enough."

Now you were even more shocked than he was. In fact, you had come here with the intention of talking, but you didn't expect such sudden confessions on his part. His cracking voice made you want to approach him, but you still stood motionless waiting for his further words.

"I am not...I am not worthy of your love. I think I chose Chrissy at the time because I was afraid that you, too, would in time find that you were treating me too good and would stop." He began walking nervously around while combing his hands through his hair. "And if I had already felt all the love that you wanted to give me, if I had let you- I would not have been able to give it up. She broke my heart, but if the same thing would happen with you, if I would let you love me the way you wanted to, and then you would see that I don't really deserve it because I'm as hopeless as everyone says, and you would decide to take it away- It would kill me. It would also kill me that I will never be able to give you what you deserve. I'm a walking life disaster, and you deserve a life like a fucking fairy tale!" Pandora's box opened releasing all the demons out of him. "Chrissy never treated me well, never made me feel loved. She treated me like everyone else all my life, she just covered up well with that- She treated me the way I deserved to be treated. She treated me like the worthless piece of shit which I am, that's why I chose her. I was terrified of all the good that was connected to you. It still scares me. I'm trying so hard to control it all, you don't even know how hard it is for me to pretend that it's okay. Nothing is good without you y/n" he felt himself falling apart. With each new tear, a piece of his heart flew out of him. "I would give a lot, really a lot for one more moment of weakness, y'know? But the worst thing is that I have nothing to give! I have nothing valuable in my life that I could give away, and I don't deserve it. I am fucking unworthy."

"Eddie..." His confession opened your eyes to things you hadn't noticed before. Your own pain focused all of your attention, causing you to overlook what effect this whole situation was having on him. You reached out wanting to grab his hand but he moved away.

"I would die for one more moment of weakness like that, but I know that since it was just a moment of weakness you didn't really want it. And I don't want to force you to do anything. I can't. I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry. For everything." He wiped his tears with his sleeve and turned away.

"Eddie, please wait!" you shouted after him, but it did nothing. All you could do was stare at his receding silhouette. At the same moment, you began to realize many things you hadn't thought of until now. They began to bombard you with unimaginably great force.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @chrissymjstan @sidthedollface2 @bakugouswh0r3 @tlclick73 @aysheashea @1paire2vans

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lulu2992 · 6 days

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This interview with Drew Holmes, now the IP Director of the Far Cry franchise, is two months old and I haven’t talked about it yet, but there are a few things he says that I really like and think (hope) bode well for the future of the series!

Like what he said during the 20th Anniversary livestream, the article confirms they’re aware many fans love the villains, but what’s even more interesting is that it suggests they know some people would like to have the possibility to side with the antagonists. This has never been an option (except in New Dawn, sort of) but we know it’s an idea they’ve been considering at least since Far Cry 4. When I read,

“Some players may see that the villains are going too far, but also see their point, and think: ‘If I work with them, I can make them see the error of their ways and change them.’”

or,

In continuing to fight the antagonist, all the woes of the world are not resolved; and in joining them, society does not collapse. “Defeating the bad guy may seem like the thing that you should’ve done,” he continues, “but what are the things that you’ve done along the way to get here? And if you joined the bad guy, is there a glimmer of hope? What happened to the people you met along the way?”

it makes me think they might seriously consider finally letting us join the villain(s) in a future game. As he implies, making such a choice would surely have big repercussions on the story and characters, but it’s part of the reason I would love to have this possibility. I’ve never seen that in any other game I’ve played, and I think it would be a bold and interesting decision if it became an option.

I like this as well:

Drew mentions that [Far Cry 3] holds a mirror to the player and asks: “Look at the things you’ve done. What do your actions say about what you value?”

It’s pretty much what Jeffrey Yohalem (Lead Writer) and Dan Hay (Executive Producer and basically Drew Holmes’ predecessor as head of the brand) said about Far Cry 3 at the time (for example here), so seeing that they’re all on the same page is great. Of course, you’d expect an IP Director to have a good knowledge and understanding of the franchise, but since I’ve already seen Far Cry 3 devs completely contradict each other in interviews, that wasn’t guaranteed… At least, and even though he wasn’t even working at Ubisoft when the game was released, I’m glad he knows what he’s talking about!

I also really like the parts about how Far Cry games are supposed to make players feel uneasy or are really about how far someone (protagonist or antagonist) is willing to go for what they consider right because what seems “moral” can change depending on the situation we’re in, and everyone, in very specific and extreme circumstances, can potentially “become the jungle” that initially looked so scary and foreign to them.

Usually, in Far Cry, the characters’ motivations are clear, and even if we rarely agree with what they do, we can almost always understand why they do it and even have sympathy for them. As he concludes:

“When we help each other, what is the reason behind it? When we hurt each other, what is the reason behind it?”

These questions have implicitly been asked many times in the series, but no clear answer has been provided because, as the interview explains, Far Cry games are supposed to “evoke feelings and make space for introspection”. In the end, only we, players, by experiencing the stories and meeting the characters, can find out who we truly are.

In my opinion, it appears the franchise is in good hands, and for now, I have hope for the future :)

#drew holmes #please don’t disappoint me #also give me many choices in the games #it seems you want to do it so don’t be shy #if they ever let us side with antagonists I think would do it just because I can and want to see what happens #who follows you? who becomes your enemy? is this how you win? at what cost? can we actually 'fix him'? fascinating!#far cry 3 #jeffrey yohalem #I should finish that post about that other fc3/fc4 dev saying the opposite of what JY explained about fc3 #also what the fc6 dlc scriptwriter said about vaas is the contrary of what he revealed about the character so yeah #I’m not kidding when I say devs contradict each other sometimes...#dan hay #I like what he did with the series and I hope he’s doing well now whatever he’s working on #far cry 4 #far cry 5 #far cry 6 #far cry new dawn

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darklight572 · 5 months

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Lumity is my Favorite Ship

So far I've only talked about She-Ra, specifically, about takes the fandom have I find....uncritical of the media. Just talking about the negative and analyzing that is only half of the human experience though, and I really don't like contributing to the 'social media hate cycle' so to speak.

Lumity is my favorite ship in all of media, and -imo- probably one of the most well written ones too. For those unaware "Lumity" refers to the fictional characters Luz Noceda and Amity Blight's romantic relationship within The Owl House. Being too broad it follows the "enemies to lovers" format of taking two superficially opposed characters and having them slowly understand how one or both of them aren't actually opposed, comulating in a relationship. And yes, I do think enemies to lovers is about superficial differences, come at me.

Anyways, first I want to establish the context of the relationship- who are the characters, how they interact, and how do their interactions produce the best and most wholesome romance relationship in fiction? So- starting off, context

CONTEXT (Luz the Misunderstood) Luz Noceda is a 14 year old dominican americal girl who expresses herself blatantaly as neurodivergent. Dana Terrace has explicitly called Luz adhd, and as a adhd-er myself i absolutely think she nailed at least one version of adhd. Luz can be easily distracted or focus so heavily on something she neglects others, she goes off on tangents, and worries that her interests scare people off- cuz they do.

She's also incredibly creative and expressive, showing off her unique style and presentation to all without any hesitation. To the point she uses real life snakes in a presentation and has backup snakes (also fireworks, which, yeah). After the aforementioned presentation went... off the rails, her mother and principal decide its in her best interest to attend a place called "Reality Check Camp". Now, this has spawned a lot of discourse within the Fandom, but for now lets leave it at her mother wanting her to try to make real friends because "your (Luz's) fantasy world is holding you back."

This is key to understanding Luz as a character, her fantast world was in fact, not holding her back. While there is absolutely credence to the fact that Luz was planning to use fireworks at some point, and should probably be checking to see if her snakes were safe, the key point here is the framing of Luz's interests as "holding her back" from making real friends. This is extremely interesting due to the fact that her love of fantasy is seemingly inspried by Azura, a book her late father left for her. Its also notable that people can like all of the things Luz likes and not create dangerous situations. A key point here, regardless of if Camila is justified or not, is that there is a fundamental misunderstanding of the problem.

All of Luz's interests are not what creates the conflict, its a lack of awareness for some of the consequences of her actions, which isn't unique to Luz at all- just displayed differently. I think this is something a lot of neurodivergent folk can relate to, believing that we are uniquely troubled people who hurt people. No, in fact, we are not. What Luz needed wasn't a "reality camp" it was a place where people accepted her, so that she could have the space to open up and the real problem could be addressed. Luckily for our protag, this is exactly what the boiling isles present.

CONTEXT P. II (Amity the Lonely) Amity Blight is a 14 year old witch of the wealthy blight industries. She starts the show as demeaning and cruel, and in some ways is that way, but is later shown as kind and overwhelmingly loyal. This is not a contradiction in her, but dichotomies and growth. Amity is abused her parents, this is just the objective fact of the matter, her friendship is weaponized to make her feel lesser and is actively threatening said friend's future.

Willow isn't the main point of this post, but she is vital as a perspective to view Amity, as children they were best friends. But Willow wasn't as naturally talented at magic as Amity was. Amity, being 4, didn't necessarily see this as a bad thing- but her parents did. They have a toxic idea that the Blights should only interact with those fit to interact with them, usually in the context of social or literal power- though an emphasis on social. So when it became apparent that Willow wasn't progressing fast enough, they threatened to have Willow never able to go to hexside (the magical school the characters attend).

This is- a lot- but afterwards Amity uses Willow's seeming powerlessness as the justification for the breaking off of their friendship, and as time goes on, begins to bully Willow from some amount of geinune distaste. It should be EXTREMELY clear however, that Amity's bullying is very directly linked to her mother's expectations. Lets get into that a bit, Odalia Blight expects perfection from Amity- her grades, her social standing, her appearance. All three of the Blight siblings must create an artificial layer to appease their mother.

Amity in particular is practically forced to die her hair green to fit in with the majority of the family, even if she doesn't particularly like her green hair. All of these are expectations, and more importantly, conditions for Amity to attain any sort of love or affection. Her father neglects all of his children, and her older twin siblings harass her with jokes. Her only form of attachments are Boscha and Skara, two people picked out by her mother as "appropriate options" for friends. That is to say, Amity actually has no one, she is- alone.

Amity volunteers at the library to read to children, and at least at some point, works there. She has a place where she can indulge in her fantasy books and not have to care about expectations quite so much. The person who treats her most kind before the start of the series is her librarian boss.... thats a very low point- especially for a 14 year old.

INTERACTIONS (The Enemy Part) Luz and Amity first collide in "I was a Teenage Abomination", and in fact, is the first episode featuring Amity at all. For context, in this episode, we see Willow belittled by Amity for her lack of skill with abominations, and Luz disillusioned by Eda's non-teaching brand of teaching. So they make a deal, Luz will pretend to be an abomination so Willow can make a better grade and Luz will get to see some of Hexside. Until this episode, Amity is the "top student" of the abomination track.

With Luz's ability to speak and do more complex orders (as...she's a person), Willow is granted the top student badge. We see throughout the rest of the episode that Amity is suspicious and eventually tells Principal Bump- who seems to ask Willow to disect Luz. When they run away, Amity chases after them, and its only Willow's plant magic prowess that allows Luz to escape. Thats- a lot- but some key points we need to remember: Bump, in the end, doesn't disect Luz- and later on is nonhostile to her- its fair to say that the dissection was just a ploy to get Willow to admit her friend was an abomination.

It should be clear why Amity is so upset based on the context we established earlier: Amity is pressured to be perfect, she is socially isolated, and she is mandated to keep Willow's and her ties cut at consequence of Willow's future at hexside (this is later shown to very much not be an empty threat). To me its clear that she's not actually upset at Luz here, she's angry that her only form of validation she can get- being the best- is taken by a cheater. She takes this so seriously because the ONLY affection she receives (calling it affection is overexaggerating even) is when she's perfect.

The next time they interact in a major way is in episode 5 "Convention," Amity is frustrated at Luz when she runs into her because she blames her for her loss of her "Top Student" status. Which isn't unfair, her actions afterward are, but Amity has a legitmate point here that Luz's actions have negatively impacted her. This is important for Luz's character development and for understanding Amity's actions. Luz is not perfect here, and we've seen throughout the beginning episodes how Luz struggles to reconcile her preconcieved notions with the reality of her situation, the consequences of her actions.

Luz accidentally accepts a deal that would permanently have her stop training in magic if she loses a duel with Amity, and then loses, sorta. You see both Eda and Lilith (Luz and Amity's mentors respectively) cheat to give their student an advantage. Luz knows and tries not to let Amity fall into the magic mines Eda plants but Amity does not know about the sigil on her neck until Eda reveals it. Amity runs away and blames Luz for humiliating her. Now, this isn't quite so fair, Eda was responsible- but as Luz explains her desires and that she geniunely didn't mean to Amity listens and we see the first tender interaction between them.

Its really not even calling them friends at this point, but it does start to shift them away from "enemies" and make them... rivals? Its complicated and messy, but Luz starts to understand Amity here- understands that she did harm Amity with her actions and learns what she has to do to be better.

INTERACTIONS P. II (Friends) The next time they have a major interaction is episode 7, "Lost in Language", this is when Luz see's Amity reading to children in the library and first seriously shows her desire to befriend Amity. This is possible because Luz has already gotten the "primer" so to speak in understanding Amity. Luz is able to see Amity more clearly because she was previously able to extend compassion past an apathetic or even cruel exterior and take responsibility for her actions.

Amity is hostile at first, but not aggressively so, and puts up with Luz much more peacefully than prior. Though she still doesn't necessarily like Luz due to Luz's previous transgressions against her, calling her a bully. Luz seemingly proves this when, after being peer pressured by Amity's siblings, accidentally reads her diary. After some Owl House shenanigans where Luz tries to save Amity, Luz reaches out and gives Amity her fifth Azura book. This episode is important in correcting Amity's impression of Luz- she wasn't trying to harm Amity, she just- wants friends and tends to be pretty reckless at times.

Seeing Luz's continued insistence also lets Amity reflect on her own behavior, while she's done so before in releasing Luz from their magical oath, this is the first time she outright states that her behavior isn't good. All of this is vital to slowly developing their friendship, maybe they aren't friends by the end of the episode, but they can firmly say they aren't enemies.

Next episode they interact is episode 12 "Adventures in the Elements" and is a pivotal part of their development. This Amity is the least guarded around Luz, while she still isn't showing her geniune emotions at first, she isn't hostile to Luz at all. The only conflict in the episode is caused by Luz stealing Amity's training staff and waking up a Slitherbeast (an otherwise neutral beast) who steals Amity's siblings and Eda.

Amity puts Luz in a forcefield to protect her, not believing that Luz is up to rescuing her mentor. After Luz shows her wrong and they save everyone, they have another positive interaction- at this point- it is fair to say that they have become friends. This isn't the first time Amity has tried to help Luz, she did in "Lost in Languages" too, but this is the first time she does so proactively and not when she is in direct danger. Amity cares about Luz.

The next three episodes they prominently interact in, "Understanding Willow" (15), "Enchanting Grom Fright" (16), and "Wing it like Witches" (17) all develop this friendship into something more- at least for Amity. Starting with Understanding Willow, this episode further illucidates Amity's issues, finally revealing why she cut off her friendship with Willow and her parents part in that. Willow doesn't immediately forgive Amity, but it does allow her to understand Amity better (as do the audience)- i think this is the episode where people start to align with Luz's perception of Amity.

its also the episode, imo, that Amity firmly establishes her crush on Luz. In this episode, despite Amity's blatant mistake and cause of the problem, Luz reaches out and gives her compassion. Not judging her, just asking her to take accountability for her actions. And although she does try to hide some things, ultimately what shes really hiding is what her parents did to her, very understandable. Its also notable that the reason Amity tries to burn that memory in the first place is no doubt trying to hide any relationship with Willow- as her mother might still be on the prowl and hurt Willow that way.

This is the second time Luz manages to make Amity blush, but even despite that, their friendship is still slightly rocky. Amity raises her voice at Luz when she tries to convince her to fix the core memory- we understand with the context of the memory itself that Amity is desperately trying to hide from what she did- from what her mother made her do- at least partially. Most importantly, at the end of the episode Amity finally takes full accountability. Even though her mother did make her sever their ties, Amity still bullied Willow- and its clear both of them know that.

Amity at this point has seen Luz make mistake after mistake, hurt people over and over, but she's also seen that Luz is always accountable for her mistakes- and always do her very best to make up for them. Luz, on the other hand, is learning to be more careful about what she does- though thats not fully driven through at this point, the embers are there. I think the compassion and her learning from Luz here is what first lets Amity begin to crush on Luz.

Next, and one of the most important episodes for Lumity, is Enchanting Grom Fright- where Amity is afriad to ask Luz to Grom - and Amity herself is slated to fight Grom- a magical creature one student has to fight every year that can manifest their worst fears. Given that, Amity of course is extremely grateful when Luz volunteers to be "Grom Queen" instead. This however, doesn't go as well as it could have, when Luz runs away when her mother is what Grom shows her- displaying Luz's fear: that her mother will find out where she's been and believe Luz was lying to her out of- a lot of reasons.

Amity goes after her and faces her fear with Luz to defeat Grom- Luz see's Amity's fear- vaguely being rejected - and isn't aware Amity wanted to ask her to Grom. Luz offers to be her date instead (she did not assume Amity wanted to ask her), and they dance and have a nice night. This is the first real time Luz really expresses any sort of romantic interest in Amity, and could be reasonably interpreted as her being bubbly and friendly. Though it is notable that Luz is very insistent on being Amitys friend even before this, so its not like its unreasonable to assume Luz was already- maybe subconsciously- crushing on Amity prior.

Finally, for this section we have "Wing it like Witches" episode 17- and the last time Luz and Amity majorly interact in season 1. In this episode Luz pushes her friends too hard when shes trying to help them, this pushes Willow and Gus away and Luz is in trouble without them. Amity rescues Luz by reminding Willow that Luz didn't have any bad intentions she was just trying to help. Luz still takes accountability though, and even begins to change the "enemies" by showing them compassion. This episode is almost like a mini-arc for Lumity- Luz messing up but always taking accountability, and changing those who would be her enemies into friends with compassion.

LUMITY (Partners!) Finally, we arrive at S2, and where things start to really head toward endgame Lumity. The first major interaction between the two is in episode 2 of season 2 "Escaping Expulsion". Odalia cashes in on the threat she made so long ago, after finding out that Gus, Willow, and Luz are Amity's friends she arrives and has them expelled from school. Amity is too frightened of her mother to speak back at first and doesn't help Luz when she wants to speak with her mother. This continues Amity's trend of trying to protect Luz in her own way, under the manipulation of her mother.

Later on, when Luz makes a deal with Odalia anyway, Amity-Willow-and Gus go to save her from her parents- as Odalia doesn't plan on letting Luz go (presumably she's going to MURDER Luz in front of her investors which- wjsdf yeah Odalia is a horrible person), Amity saves Luz and we see for the first time Luz blushing at Amity- this is probably when you can first say Luz might be crushing on Amity. This shows that Amity is willing to stand up to her abuser for Luz, and yes Willow and Gus- but i think its evident that she is especially willing- some might even say seeing Luz get hurt is the motivation she needs- to stand up to Odalia.

Episode 5, "Through the Looking Glass Ruin" is very very important- because here they practically both admit they like each other. So- some set up- at this point Luz had to destroy the portal back home so that Emperor Belos (the real antagonist) couldn't use it for his own purposes- after some research she's finally discovered that another human was in the isles before and donated his diary to the library. Amity offers to help Luz find it among the "forbidden stacks" where no one is allowed to go. This is also when Amity reveals that her boss is the one that gave her her secret hideaway.

Luz is too loud when they discover the diary has been eaten by an Echo Mouse and Amity loses her job. During this episode we see Luz try not to pressure Amity in, but Amity helps Luz anyway- motivated by her crush on Luz- and just, wanting to help her. In the end they both admit that "they do stupid things around" the other- and Luz goes back in to get Amity's employeship back- and has to do trials to do so. After explaining things Amity kisses Luz on the cheek and perhaps the most wholesome seen in all of disney plays, only challenged by later Lumity scenes. Anyway- take aways: once again Amity is reminded of Luz's never ending compassion and continued commitment to taking accountability for her actions and most importantly- her mistakes.

After this, we finally get to their relationship starting: Episode 8, "Knock. Knock, Knockin' on Hooty's Door" Hooty attempts to solves all of the Owl House inhabitants struggles- and in that quest- kidnaps Amity and makes Luz and Amity go through the tunnel of love together. In her embarrassment Luz tears things down and accidentally hurts Amity. At this point, Amity probably believes Luz hates the idea of being with her, but this is quickly slashed after Eda encourages Luz to just ask her. Both of them are reduced to blushing messes but they manage to ask each other out and hold each other's pinkie- in again- an incredibly adorable scene.

This works so well because of the consistent set up- both of them have developed so far to get to this point- both of them have learned and become better people than they were, and have become close friends willing to help and support each other when they need it. Its not just that its adorable, its that it helped develop both characters grander arcs and is healthy.

Relationship (The Pay Off) I could continue to break this relationship down episode by episode, and at some point i will, but this post is already long enough- so im gonna hit the major points. Luz and Amity's adventures going forward are so great because they continually show a healthy, adorable, and positive relationship. That is to say, they help support one another, they continue to be friends, and they both continue to develop.

In Eclipse Lake, Amity mistakes Luz's message (with some nudging from the Golden Guard- long story: he's an antagonist kind of, mostly just another abused kid) as a condition for their relationship, but comes to the realization with King's help that their relationship - unlike so many in Amity's life- isn't conditional. In the best episode of the show (don't @ me) Reaching Out, Luz learns to - lmao- reach out when she tries to hide that she's hurting by insisting on helping Amity. She ends up lying to Amity to continue hiding, and hurts her- but its revealed that its the anniversary of her father's death.

Luz, again, takes accountability for her actions- but Amity still comforts her and supports her- Luz learns (at least partially) to reach out for help. Every interaction of Amity and Luz isn't wholeness heaven with no bad things happening, these kids make mistakes and sorta tumble through their first relationship together, but... they learn. They take account for their mistakes and work together to fix the mistake, they learn to confide in each other, that their relationship isn't dependent on conditions.

The reason Lumity's my favorite ship? It shows two queer kids finding each other, starting off against each other, but through compassion and understanding they become friends and something more. Then, they maintain that relationship, while maintaining their indviduality. They are not absorbed by their relationship, instead they are helped and improved.

"We can fix this together."

#owl house #lumity #luz noceda #amity blight

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flipping-the-coin · 7 months

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Ratchet whats the worst thing about being with a Prime?

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡: ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 ℑ𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔫 -

ℭ𝔶𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔰 -

𝔊𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫��𝔢 𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 -

To clarify before I begin, there is nothing that I can say is awful about being with Optimus. He has his issues and shortcomings, but they are things we can work through, small issues that ultimately mean nothing in the wake of eternity. I could never hold any true anger toward Optimus for long. I love him too much for that. However with that said, there are many things that I despise about his station and what it does to him, mainly those things which he cannot control.

Now, to answer your question, the worst part about being with a Prime is simply that he's... set apart. That alone is not the issue. Optimus's oddities are things I have long accepted and done my best to understand. No, when I say I find that to be the worst part, what I mean is that I hate when that separation is exemplified by the fragging relic Optimus carries within him.

I hate the Matrix almost as much as I hate Megatron. That relic has done nothing but make Optimus's life even more of a torment. It gives him wisdom and strength, but at what cost? His mind is wrapped up in it, unable to separate from the Matrix due to the grip it has on his spark. I've been Optimus's doctor for as long as he has been alive. I know what the Matrix looks like, and I can safely say it is terrifying. Its clawed hinges wrap around Optimus's spark like a threat of impending doom and its wires dig into the walls of his spark chamber in what I think any other would find to be an agonizing manner. It is not exactly common knowledge, but Optimus's spark is not even fully in his spark chamber. The Matrix keeps it hovering within the space, but the connectors and converters that would otherwise surround his spark are unable to reach it. The fact that he is even alive is a miracle. If it were any other mech, they would be all but dead, barely alive enough to function but without the strength to move.

It feels like a cruel joke just as much as it is a stark reminder of what Optimus is. I can forget occasionally, but he is not Cybertronian, not like me or anyone else at any rate. Did you know that his frame is hardly holding together? I don't think Optimus can sense anything, but all his scans show that every single one of his systems is always on the brink of exploding. His spark is simply too powerful to be confined in a regular frame, and even with one modeled by the Matrix, he can hardly be contained. I think it is because of this that his spark is not allowed to fully rest in its chamber. The Matrix is trying to keep him contained enough to use a mortal frame, and in doing so it also wraps itself around his mind, ensuring that he cannot go too far. The reason I mention this at all is because I hypothesize that it is the separation of spark and frame that creates a lot of my issues with Optimus's nature.

He does not feel. I do not mean to say he cannot experience emotion. No, that is a direct contradiction of every action he has ever taken. When I say he does not feel, what I mean to say is that he does not fully understand emotion and its uses. He experiences them, but the Matrix keeps him from comprehending and fully feeling the effects of his emotions. At the same time, certain emotional responses are also amplified by the relic in a strange and cruel form of control. During the war I largely assumed that his dogged pursuit of victory was simply because there was no other option. But now that our war is over and he still drags himself along with that same depressing determination, I see that it is not natural. He is not thinking when he acts half the time, not truly.

To help explain what I am trying to convey, I will give an example. Optimus will spend cycles at his desk working through a never ending mountain of work, unable to feel his frame and its exhaustion or the weariness that others would normally deal with. His spark being separated from his frame has the practical effect of making lethargy and other such things bother him less. That goes for pain as well, as seen with his unnatural endurance of Orion's EM attacks. Where others would be bored, angry, or otherwise upset with the amount of work to do, Optimus does not seem to care. He views the work with apathetic optics and continues on, often not paying much attention of his own needs or those of the mecha around him. He sets his mind to a task and throws himself into it until he literally cannot endure any longer. I despise it because I can see how weary his spark is below the Matrix's touch. He desperately needs rest and time to work through all he has suffered in his life, but I have only seen him really escape the suppressing and thought controlling methods of the Matrix a grand total of perhaps five times.

The Matrix adjusts his emotions and it seems to even speak to him. It directs him where it wants him to be. It tries to crush emotions it does not see fit for him to feel, and it also appears to have a memory suppressing effect. I cannot confirm that last claim, but considering he had no visible knowledge of Orion and Megatron's relationship during the war, I assume that information was kept from him despite the fact he had many other of Orion's memories. I hate it with a passion. I despise the Matrix for eliminating so much of Optimus's ability to think beyond the bounds it sets. I wish nothing but destruction upon the relic that ensures Optimus can never really see what is going on around him of understand where he is.

Do you have any idea how horrible it is to watch Optimus become so lost and confused when greeted with a negative response toward what I can only assume are instinctual decisions for him? The way he speaks, the way he acts, the tasks he gives priority. All of it. He does not know what he is doing half the time and I can SEE it. He has been given a mold to fit and he can't seem to break from it except when he is dragged kicking and screaming away. I have never seen Optimus act more like himself than when he was given the chance to observe the stars for the first time without pain. He looked so youthful and his optics were the brightest clearest blue I have ever seen. Then just as quick as it came, his optics returned to that sickening white and his focus was diverted back toward his work.

The hardest and most horrible part about being with a Prime is that my Prime is little more than a puppet in the most insufferable way. There is no mastermind to eliminate, no foe to kill to rescue him from his prison of mind and body. No, the thing that keeps him bound in chains is also the device that ensures he continues to function. Without the Matrix, Optimus will die. And yet with it, he cannot ever be free of its grasp. Its will is his when the Matrix decides to make itself known. In that regard, as much as I despise Orion, I cannot help but be somewhat thankful for his and Optimus's connection. Orion seems to awaken something in Optimus that not even the Matrix can fully quash. An innocent and wistful wish for... something that I do not understand but can see all the same.

I know that somewhere behind the veneer of the Matrix is a mech so loving and passionate, thoughtful and wise. But until the cycle arrives that Optimus can pull his mind away from the Matrix's web, I can only cling to the small moments where I see that mech. I can only relish in the instances where Optimus looks at me with clear blue optics, untainted by the chill white of something so other it is all but unfeeling.

I hope that answers your question anonymous. I am sorry for my wandering thoughts.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 - ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

#maccadam #transformers prime au #transformers #transformers prime #two sides to a coin au #orion pax #optimus prime #ratchet responds #ratchet #the matrix of leadership

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dungeonmalcontent · 8 months

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High level spellcasters in 5th edition d&d automatically win any combat encounter by doing nothing.

I've talked about the magical girl transformation chamber strategy, which I think is fun and balanced (because of the cost and the time it takes to set up and then the time it takes to activate). This is not that fun.

To be frank, it might not even work. It's complicated and involves a tiny bit of word twisting.

This is the contingent nuke.

As soon as you have a 7th level spell slot, upcast glyph of warding at 7th level to spell glyph store a contingency spell which triggers when a creature walks over the glyph of warding's glyph (I imagine you have to place the contingency component on the glyph and the creature walking over it would have to collect it). This is where it gets complicated, a contingent spell remains active for 10 days but "you can use only one contingency spell at a time. If you cast this spell again, the effect of another contingency spell on you ends." But by using a glyph of warding to subvert the self target requirement, because the glyph casts the contingency spell (not you, per se), and the contingency spell is no longer being cast on you (the glyph setter-upper) and so it can stack.

But then there is the matter of the contingent spell. Contingency only allows spells which target the "caster", as in spells with a range of self. And there's a few good spells for this. I really like destructive wave for this (because it a big aoe), but that's a difficult spell to get on a character that also knows glyph of warding and contingency. But the very easy solution is lightning bolt.

So. A 13th level wizard. One 7th level slot to glyph, one 6th level slot to contingency, and one 5th level slot to store a contingent lightning bolt (upcast) or a destructive wave if you can manage that.

And this is why it's a nuke, if you haven't put the pieces together already. For every set of three slots you use (as outlined above) you create a glyph on the ground which lasts until dispelled. Walking over that glyph causes it to stack one stored lightning bolt or destructive wave (which will trigger on your preferred condition, such as "the creature stands within range of and faces a specific creature"). You can walk over... a lot of those over the course of 10 days. So, say, you spend months prepping glyphs in a warehouse and then walk over them all at once, you have that many contingent spells which will trigger all at once on their shared trigger.

Just imagine. You stand in front of the king. You turn to face him. 80 5th level lightning bolt spells erupt from your body all at once. 800d8s of lightning damage. An average of 3,200 lightning damage to everything in a 150 foot line in front of you. Assuming average damage and all successful saves, that's still ~1,700 damage. And bare minimum (assuming your target doesn't have evasion) that's still 400 damage.

You would rip a hole through space time.

Total gold cost: 136,000 gold in materials and a trenchcoat big enough to hold 80 small figurines in the pockets.

Reasons this would not work:

There's a couple of reasons your GM might not allow this rules wise. Here are the ones I see right away.

+ "You can use only one contingency spell at a time." This line is the contingency spell is not particularly clear. The structure of the paragraph would lead you to infer that you can only benefit from one contingent spell at a time, however the phrase "contingent spell" could also refer to the spell being stored for later use and "use" may refer to the act of casting. Under the circumstances outlined above, you might end up sputtering out one lightning bolt every round for 80 rounds if they can only go off one at a time rather than all at once. However, this contradicts the prior paragraph of the contingency spell which states that the contingent spell activates immediately when it's conditions are met.

+ "You can use only one contingency spell at a time." The "you" is a little ambiguous as I've set this up. Because it's set up with glyphs acting like little autonomous mages, the you is generally supposed to be the glyph. But I. Could also be the glyph setter or the creature walking over the glyphs. And this could make it complicated because depending on how you interpret the phrasing, it could not work on you (the glyph setter) or not at all because the creature walking over the glyphs becomes the "you".

#d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #5e #ttrpg #fantasy #writing #game break #contingency nuke #the contingent nuke

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itshype · 5 months

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Loveweaver (Wednesday ficlet)

Child Wednesday Addams casts a spell on herself to ensure she never falls in love. Her parents spend all their time making smoochy faces at each other and it was not only revolting but completely unproductive. Wednesday would never be able to breed herself a scorpion large enough to ride if she had to spend all her time kissing another person.

Her mother wouldn't have even had enough hours in the year to cross pollinate a rose with a carnivorous sundew if Wednesday hadn't taken one for the team and glued her dear father's mouth shut. She was still awaiting her letter of thanks from the entire field of botany.

Unfortunately, she couldn't find a spell to remove all love from her heart forever in the family grimoire. The favour Pugsley owes her will only entice him to distract their babysitter – Uncle Fester – for so long. She has to find the spell and cast it as soon as possible. If her parents had been home, they would have found her in the family dungeon way too fast, luckily for the first time in forever, the Addams parents had taken their biweekly date outside of the family estate. That was Wednesday’s big break, but she was strapped for time.

And that’s why she latches onto the first love spell she finds. The Loveweaver. A spell that would allow her to become the architect of her own love story. Good, she knew exactly how to write a good tragedy.

It was bafflingly straightforward; these candles there, those bones like this, Morticia had even left out a few dried green tulips, clearly forgotten in the back of the rack usually used to dry bloomless rose stems. Another moment of good fortune, drying flowers took forever and there was no way for Wednesday to accomplish it without the flowers being noticed at some point, even if she put off the actual spell cast for another few weeks. She knew she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this for long enough as to be unimaginable to someone at her age.

Everything was ready much faster than Wednesday could have imagined. She hadn’t even started to think about the criteria she would implement within the spell. Well, she was good enough on her feet to be able to think of something. All she had to do was choose a love who didn’t exist and then she would have all the time in the world to breed Nero’s grandchildren into venomous stallions, maybe she’d even write a book about it.

Wednesday read out each word faithfully before working to fill the space. Maybe rhyming wasn’t her strongest suit.

By moonlit night and whispered plea, I call upon the magic, see it bleed. In search of love, forever true, Through this spell, I'll find only you As this spell concludes, I set it free, To manifest the love meant for me. With open heart to receive and hold, My love will be, destiny unfolds.

Upon enchanted winds fate must caress, I conjure love's magic, I must impress. Seeking a soulmate, a love to address, In destiny's embrace, my one true love will possess…

"Rainbow eyes, ones with all colours combined,” She begun shakily, “Normie and Outcast, both worlds entwined.” That was a solid rhyme, maybe it wasn’t too difficult.

“A monster who’s pure, no sins that they must confess,” This was the most difficult thing anyone had ever had to do, maybe Wednesday should have written this all before starting the spell. “A drug dealer who is lawful, causing no stress."

That was it! A terribly forced rhyme, but a contradiction drastic enough she felt confident ending the spell by blowing out the candles in compass order. It was all over, Wednesday would be safe forever.

Gomez Addams sits back in his chair, pretending magnanimously not to notice the uncomfortable, and occasionally outright fearful glances from the other – Normie – patrons of the fancy restaurant.

“Tish, my withered rose, you know I’d follow you anywhere,” He eyes the sleek, bright décor dubiously, “but can we return home yet?”

Morticia smiles at her husband over her wine glass, running a sharp fingernail over the rim hard enough to make a ringing sound. “Not just yet, darling.”

#i had way too much fun writing the spell #wednesday #wyler #netflix's wednesday #weyler #mine #ficlet #someone remind me to archive this to ao3 at some point lol #caffeine is a drug!#hehehe

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maslimanny · 5 months

Text

Two days separate us from the end of a year and the beginning of a new year, during which expressions of congratulations, greetings, and scenes of joy and jubilation are repeated to welcome the new comer. Some see it as the end of a bittersweet chapter of their life and the beginning of a new chapter that they hope will be full of positives. Others believe that it is a continuation of what is in it, and that the digital divider is nothing but an illusion.

In fact, we are trying to steal a few hours of fun and fabricate hopes and aspirations because it is difficult to achieve them with the complexities of life and the pressures we face at all levels. We are trying to do so in accordance with the proverb that says, “How narrow life would be without the space of hope.”

This thin line between two years is an opportunity for each of us to evaluate our decisions and actions in the year we leave.

There is no doubt that it combined the contradictions between wonderful days and bad days. Days when we soared high after seeing a faint light shining from afar. Some people were right in what they saw, so they continued their path to reach it. They may or may not reach it. The honor of trying is enough for them if they fail. Some people were wrong, as the mirage they thought appeared to be a light, but they collided with a reality contrary to what they thought. Some have lost loved ones who took a path from which there is no return, and are now in the hands of God. These people are still living the pain of loss and departure and living on the memories that brought them together. Some people have their dreams and hopes shattered due to the loss of a loved one for a reason or another, and their wound is still bleeding and they hope that the coming days will heal their wounds.

With all this, we can only try, with determination and persistence, to remove the dust of despair and pain from our exhausted hearts and rise again. Each one of us has someone who needs him, a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a husband, a wife, a son, a daughter. For the sake of these, we must stand up again with all our strength and extend our hands to them and to everyone who cares about us. The beginning must come from within us, because no one can hold our hands and lift us from where we are indefinitely if we do not have the will to do so. This does not mean that we will forget a period of our lives, both sweet and bitter, but rather it will remain in our memory and we will return to it from time to time to provide motivation for us to make more efforts to move forward. And, if it was a bitter and harsh period, we can also benefit from it to know where and how we made mistakes and avoid them in the coming days.

In both cases, we must thank those who were the cause of our joys or our sorrows. Our joys made us sparkling stars that brought us close to the moon, and our hearts danced to the rhythm of a joyful piece, even if its melody was not complete. As for our sorrows, we made a candle out of them that illuminates our souls in the darkness of our souls and guides us to the path of light...!!!

#maslimanny #new year #feelings #life

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princessmisery666 · 1 year

Note

baseball bat, apple, car... with this guy

Crazy Angel

Warnings: smut, angst.

W/C: 800

Betas: @writercole

A/N: Thanks for the inspo 😍 Kym, I love you!!

Master Lists: All The Fandoms

Gif Requests info.

Some people don’t know when to quit. Dean was one of those people.

Can you come over?

He only ever finds the words at the bottom of a hundred proof. You used to answer the message every time. And whenever you left the next day, his head was as messed up as the bed sheets you’d ruined. Sober Dean didn’t think about it, made a conscious effort not to think about you. Kept himself as busy as possible. But drunk Dean couldn’t get over you; there was no hangover quite like you and it didn’t matter how many times you said you wouldn’t do it again, he always sent the message.

Can you come over?

It goes unanswered for too long and he’s almost at the bottom of the bottle.

He’d felt listless all day, his thoughts scattered and completely unfocused. He’d scratch the itch, if only it would keep still. He pushed the door to the bar open and as he crossed the threshold he convinced himself it had been an unconscious decision. He’d just been driving with no destination in mind and Baby had carried him back to the place he knew you’d be. Evidently, his destination hadn’t been a place but a person.

You look up when he enters and he sees the accusation in your eyes - you shouldn’t be here. But he can’t help himself.

The first time you met you’d almost taken his head off with a baseball bat. Sam had stopped it. You’d apologized by fucking Dean so well he’d forgot his name for a while. That’s part of the reason he comes back. You make him forget. You’re one of those crazy angels. A walking contradiction. A sweet girl next door, butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. Until you're naked. A wicked smile that should come with a whiskey warning. That’s all it takes, a few shots of whiskey, a jukebox quarter and you give into him.

He approaches the bar, and waits but you purposely stay down the other end, so he orders a double and takes it to the back of the room. He watches you, serving customers, restocking the fridge, cleaning glasses. You’re doing everything you can not to look at him, but somehow your head is always turned slightly in his direction.

He finishes his first drink and stands to put a quarter in the jukebox, selecting your favorite song and as the first opening bars fill the room you finally look at him. You hold his eyes as you shoot back a shot of whiskey and nod your head toward the door.

“Hey,” he says as you slide into the back of Impala where he waits.

You don’t speak, instead greet him with a hard, passionate kiss. You taste like apples, it’s probably all you’ve eaten today, he wants to ask how you are, but he already knows. You wouldn’t be there if you were doing okay. You shuck off your jacket and it’s the urgency that tells him you don’t have time for small talk.

It’s a practiced routine, getting each other naked in the confines of the backseat and within minutes you're straddling his lap, hungrily kissing him.

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your velvety heat envelope around him as you sink down onto his cock.

“Dean,” you sigh, fingernails digging into his shoulders. “I need…”

He thrusts and you forget your words. “Uh-huh, I know,” he breathes, “I got you.”

He rocks his hips, he pushes up and you slam your ass down. Flesh slaps loudly, echoing in the small space. The car bounces with the rhythm and the windows soon fog up.

You whine and moan his name in between kisses. He loses himself, feels the sweat trickle down his back and get stuck between the leather and his skin. Baby will smell like sex for days and he’ll revel in the memory as long as he can.

“Holy shit!” Your movements stutter and he feels your walls clench, holding him in place. “Dean, oh, fuck.”

“Y/N, I’m gonna…” he warns.

“Me too,” you say and as you kiss him again you come together.

Ten minutes later you're back behind the bar and he’s back at his table. He watches you flirt and work, avoiding eye contact with him again. It’s not shame that keeps you from looking at him, it’s a game. A game he likes to play, because he always wins. He finds a quarter in his pocket, takes it to the jukebox and as your favorite song starts again, you lock eyes. This time you nod toward the bathrooms.

He wets his lips, eyebrows raising in a silent question, “really?”

You answer by taking a shot of whiskey and he can’t wait to lick the taste from your mouth.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #reader fic #gif requests #friends #smut #angst #smangst #dean winchester smut

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aronarchy · 1 year

Text

https://twitter.com/butchanarchy/status/1343704323302178817

The Revolution Starts at Home, and So Does the Revolutionary.

How to Find Our Place in the Struggle for Liberation: A Thread

[image ID: a series of concentric circles. The centermost circle is labeled with the text “You.” The next circles around it are labeled, in order from innermost to outermost, “Your relationships,” “your workplace,” “Your neighborhood,” and “Your town/city.” /end image ID]

What I’ve pictured above is an example of how you might map your various spheres of influence. Many of us become awakened to join the struggle and want to leap headfirst into radically changing our entire city, but don’t know how to even start.

My suggestion: start with understanding and mapping out what is in your personal reach. What is in your greatest ability to change/influence? Begin there. By strengthening that sphere, you will build your power to influence and strengthen others.

You: you have the most power to change yourself. Attend to your own internal contradictions. Unlearn the toxicity taught to you by Empire. Learn the history of struggle. Figure out your values, discover how to act in integrity to those values.

You → Your relationships: When you strengthen your own sense of your values, when you build your understanding of history, when you learn how to speak to those values and to challenge Empire’s propaganda, you will better be able to bring that into your relationships.

Your relationships: Family, friends, partners, co-workers, classmates, neighbors, etc. You have the most influence and impact with those closest to you. Challenge their oppressive understandings. Offer new possibilities. Practice healthy communication and accountability together.

Your relationships → Your workplace: When you strengthen your relationships and communally build up shared values and with them shared power, you can bring that power to bear on larger social spaces and collectively affect the conditions of those spaces.

Your workplace: shorthand for anyplace you engage with a larger community. Your work, your school, the place you volunteer, etc. A space that structurally holds power in your community, and thus takes significant collective power to change or disrupt. Use your relationships of shared values you’ve built to apply pressure within the range of those collective relationships. With coworkers, that might be unionizing or starting a co-op. With fellow organizers, that might mean changing the goals/standards/practices of an org. What you can do here is entirely dependent on the relationships you have. What does your collective power allow you to begin doing that you otherwise could not have done alone? Be creative, there are so many avenues where one might apply collective power in the struggle.

Your workplace → Your neighborhood: Building new ways to relate to one another in the work we do, as well as finding ways to work together under our shared values can free up all involved to reach further into the community and use collective resources to affect it.

Your neighborhood: shorthand for a sphere of influence beyond a single workplace. This can mean helping build larger networks of worker co-ops or unions. Or organizing actual neighborhoods to resist gentrification. Similar to the workplace, what you can do within your “neighborhood” is dependent upon the smaller organizations of people within them, which are dependent on the relationships within them, which are dependent on who the individual people are within them.

Your neighborhood → Your town or city: Building up large networks of communal power under shared values is what allows for change on a larger scale. This is what allows for autonomous zones to be built, or general strikes to be called, that can affect a much larger social space.

Your town or city: You can meaningfully and sustainably begin to change large swaths of the social landscape by building communal power and understanding the specific context of that landscape. Learn where power can be most effectively leveraged with the least cost. Use your collective knowledge to root out the spaces where the power of Empire is weakest, and also where your collectivity is the strongest. Build Dual Power—strategic direct action against Empire on one hand and new mutual aid based infrastructure on the other.

This is all an single example and should be treated as such. What I am suggesting here is not that everyone must follow this exact formula, but the opposite. What is within range varies person to person, community to community, and that’s a GOOD thing.

There is too much shame flying around about what is or isn’t “real” revolutionary work. Not every person/group needs to amass enough power to engage in city-scale direct action. What’s important is that everyone be engaging in the struggle within their range as best as they can.

Your range might only ever extend to yourself and your relationships, and that is still valuable work! For every person connected to the struggle, we have a whole other set of ranges and power to build upon, and that’s what revolutions are made of.

All that, imo, liberatory work asks of us is for us to be honest and accountable to what is in our range, do our best to strengthen it outward. That is inherently going to look different for everyone, and that can make us all collectively powerful.

Also, you need not make yourself the perfect revolutionary before you work on your relationships, nor do your relationships need to be perfect before you reach out into your workplace or neighborhood. We ALL are constantly working on building up everything within our range.

The point is that the more you build yourself up, the better you’ll be able to show up in your relationships. The more you build up the people in your life, the more you’ll be able to collectively act in your larger community. But this work can and does happen simultaneously.

As the saying goes, many hands make short work, and all that we need from each other is that we work within our power as best as we can. If we establish this as our communal expectation, revolution will be sure to follow.

Thanks for reading.

Love and Solidarity ✊💚

#repost of someone else’s content #twitter repost #butchanarchy #101 #activism #direct action #leftism #anarchism

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granulesofsand · 8 months

Text

Subtypes of Multiplicity

It’s been a moment since I’ve looked at Kluft’s DID subtypes. I first read it at https://www.nurseslearning.com/courses/nrp/NRP-1618/Section%207/index.htm trying to figure out what polyfragmentation was.

It’s easier to read but shorter than a scan copy, which you can get at http://www.traumatys.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/Dissociation-DID-Kluft-1991.pdf.

We read these a lot as a shelter from discourse; it’s scary to see people fighting over the correct way to be a system, and nobody fits every contradicting ideal. Our system is largely critical of basically all authority figures, including Kluft, so here’s your reminder that you can take pieces that benefit you without accepting every detail.

🗝️🏷️ example for context and syscourse below

Our Subtypes (Example)

We are often told we have a Classic presentation, with obvious alters and amnesia. Though we’re distinct, there are also a lot of us. Bewilderment is common for us, as described in the Polyfragmented variant.

🗝️🏷️ RAMCOA

Despite our overt nature, we have difficulty keeping out of the Private subtype because we were raised multiple and taught to hide. Our entire system is Modular. We are made of lots of connecting fragments which can reshuffle, and for us it appears like computer coding because it is programmed.

Subtypes in Discourse

Many of our subsystems or past frequent fronters have fit other labels, and some of them I want to draw attention to.

The community often says that no alter can create others, but Ad Hoc MPD (DID) would be just that, albeit for shorter periods. Thoughtforms could fit easily into Ostensible Imaginary Companionship. Extremely similar alters, alters without time loss, brief periods of overtness, all of these are described in the paper.

I don’t like Kluft, but even he is willing to see subjective experiences as true and valid within the parameters of DID. I still hold that traumagenic CDDs should be recognized as separate but no more acceptable than other forms of plurality, and here is a clinician account that such things are possible.

Kluft also has papers out on causes of DID and polyfrag DID, which cite trauma frequently. Frequently, but not always. Not every system has a visible history of maltreatment, and it’s okay that they exist without having to justify themselves.

There are plenty of presentations of plurality that fit under the current definition of DID, and until we change that definition, they are not in the wrong place. Holding space for each other, even when it seems our experiences are irrelevant, paves the way for accepting similar traits when they are.

Multiplicity, not even plurality, is a varied and complex existence. We don’t need to be arguing about who is allowed to be when they already are. Speaking from experience is not misinformation, even if we don’t have the words yet. We don’t get them until we sit with each other and actually learn.

Links (Again)

TL;DR there can be lots of presentations of multiplicity and plurality without any of them being wrong

#syscourse #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #osddid #traumagenic system #endo safe #ramcoa #polyfragmented system

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screaminglillith · 1 year

Note

Groped on the Bus.

You were standing & waiting at the bus stop, the searing heat of the city reflecting off tall skyscrapers and burning your skin. The air was heavy with humidity and you were sweating. Wearing black was a good call last night when drinking with your bestie but now, in this heat you felt you were being slowly cooked. Your gorgeous skin was glowing with sweat when you noticed something. Across the street was a man dressed head to toe in black. Wide shoulders, bit of a stomach on him but he was attractive still. He was staring, brazenly, at you. Even when you looked directly at him, his gaze unwavering. Eventually he turned and entered a nearby shop and you were just happy not to be getting eye fucked by some stranger.

Almost within minutes of this, the bus you needed to take home arrived and you climbed on. It was crowded with barely any room to stand but the air conditioning provided some respite from the brick oven like outside. You breathed deep and paid your fare, moving towards the back of the bus and standing overlooking a lady who was half asleep. You found it amusing that she could fall asleep in public transport like this as someone brushed against you and you felt your mind rush into its deep, fantasising self. You felt the tinge of ‘please brush against me more…’ but you almost immediately dismissed that thought. But, that’s when you felt it again. Someone brushed into you again. And this time, it felt deliberate. Like this person wanted to touch you. So you turned your head in the tight space and noticed the edge of the shoulder of the person behind you and you realised it’s the man from opposite the bus stop. You immediately tried to move but there was no room in the bus and you had to stand there as this man now blatantly moved his hands onto your ass, gently caressing you through your yoga pants. He let out a deep sigh when his hands travelled up to where underwear would normally be, because he realised your commando. You moaned a little and pushed back onto his hand but said ‘stop it please’ in a low voice. He shushed you and spoke to you for the first time in a deep voice… ‘what a contradiction you are, no undies on… wiggling your ass closer to me and yet, asking me to stop??’ You felt his breath on your skin and felt him grab your ass for real as you let out a loud gasp. It shocked you to be touched like that but more so that no one noticed you making a noise. Not one person looked at you. This man continued to touch and grope you, the bus moving through broken roads making sure his hands were all over your ass and pussy. You tried to stifle your moans when you heard him say ‘don’t hold back. They can’t hear or see you. They’re under my spell. They wouldn’t even see it if I murdered you right in front of them…’

When you heard that your heart skipped a beat but it really started to pound in your chest because you could feel his bulge rubbing against you as his big hands grabbed at your stomach to pull you closer to him. You could feel he was probably the biggest dick you’d ever been even pressed up against and your hips instinctively wiggled on his shaft. He chuckled and called you a pathetic slut as he ripped your yoga pants open and dropped his pants, rubbing his rock hard cock between your thighs and mocking you for being so wet. He adjusted himself to get closer, groping your tits and kissing your neck, breathing in your sweaty smell and saying that he loves how vulnerable you are in his arms. You tried to protest by saying ‘please stop this… stop it now…’ and he shushed you again. He slapped your face hard and slid your panties aside, rubbing his tip at your hole. You moaned when he did this but no one noticed and that’s when he reminded you that no one can hear or see a thing.

This man was no ordinary man, clearly had magical powers of some kind and that made you feel so gushing wet for him. He felt it too and he said ‘I’m gonna use you now. Like a flesh light. Gonna be rough and hard because your stop is coming soon and I need to cum…’ as he slid his thick cock into you. You cried and shouted, protesting that he was too big but he just held you in place and thrusted. You had never felt deeper or heavier strokes in your entire life, your cunt gripping his thick dick for dear life as he pounded you. Ample tits jiggled as he reached around and exposed them, kneading them in his hands as he used your holes in a trance like rhythm. Your slutty instinct took over and you started to meet his strokes, throwing your ass back on his cock, matching his force as you both let out lewd sounds. Your pussy clenched when he grabbed your neck and brought you up against his body to lick your face and slap you. You felt his cock flex and pulse, strokes getting more energetic but erratic. You knew he was close and begged ‘please… please not inside me!! I’m ovulating today please.’ And that’s when he said ‘I know you are baby… I can sniff out a girl at her peak breeding capabilities from miles away. That’s why I chose you. You’ll make such a beautiful mom…’ he grunted as he slammed his hips deep into you, growling in a deep voice as he painted your insides with his thick and hot cum.

He fucked his cum deeper into you, before kissing your neck and holding you straight upright. He covered up your tits again and slid your undies back on, making sure his cum never escaped from you. He kissed and nibbled on your shoulder, giving you the smallest of marks. Your legs shuddering from being taken like that and cumming so hard before being filled by a fat load. You heard your destination being announced on the bus and you smiled, in a dream like state as you floated towards the exit door. Just before you got off, you looked around and didn’t see him. The mystery man who groped you in the bus. But you felt him. In your torn yoga pants, in your sore thighs and throbbing pussy. On your shoulder in the hickey and most importantly, inside your womb where his seed was embedded into you, breeding you like you deserved to be.

You walked hurriedly home, getting wet at the thought of what just happened to you in that bus. Wishing it would happen again. You made a promise to yourself, in your mind, to visit your best friend more often. Hoping to see the man who groped you om the bus, again every single time.

🥵🥵🥵yes please touch me on the bus and don't let me say no

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saveregblackordie0726 · 3 days

Text

Sombre et Pur'

Chapter 5

Sixth Year – 1976

A peculiar sort of tension gripped me as I boarded the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It wasn't the usual back-to-school jitters, a mix of excitement and the dread of looming homework. This was a different kind of unease – one born of the long summer and the unsettling knowledge that things couldn't stay the same.

Change, I'd discovered, was an insidious beast. It seeped into your life, leaving subtle shifts and unexpected scars. Sometimes for the better, sometimes… not. When I’d left Hogwarts a few months ago, I was a tangle of contradictions – fiery and freckled, stubborn yet uncertain, forever caught in the clash between the world I longed for and the one I begrudgingly inhabited. The summer, however, had been a catalyst.

The first difference was obvious the moment I caught my reflection in the train window. My hair, usually a riotous shade of orange, had mellowed. Sunlight and days spent outdoors had bleached streaks of honey-gold through it, a welcome change from the girlish vibrancy I used to sport. I'd grown an inch or two as well, a fact my mother celebrated with the purchase of several new robes that actually fit properly. Gone was the awkward, too-big look. Now, a leaner frame had emerged, honed by hours of flying practice with an old broomstick at the nearby park.

The biggest change, though, was one I couldn't fully see. It resided in a quiet acceptance within me. The anger and guilt over my friendship with the boys after what they had done to Severus remained, a wound still tender, but I also carried a flicker of newly found resolve. This year, things had to change. It wouldn't be some grand gesture of reconciliation, more an attempt at a peaceful coexistence. After all, I had Sirius to worry about now, and a lingering, unwelcome worry about his brother, too.

As if summoned by my thoughts of her former friend, Lily appeared. Her flaming red hair was as distinctive as ever, but she held herself differently. Gone was the sometimes brash, confident strut of years past. Now as Head Girl, her steps were more measured, her smile held a practiced softness meant to reassure the younger students.

We exchanged a tentative hello, the space between us echoing with the unspoken hurts of the past few months. Yet, I also caught a flicker of something hopeful in her eyes as she handed me a crisp, gold prefect badge. I had somehow managed to keep my position despite the turmoil of the previous year. A reward, I suspect, for not being involved with the events of last year. It seemed not all bridges were burnt. With a sickening certainty I knew I had Regulus to thank for that, his insistence I not get myself involved as we witnessed his brother and my friends torment Severus. With a resigned sigh, I made my way through the familiar chaos of the train, seeking out the prefect compartment. As I entered, a wave of greetings and familiar faces enveloped me, and I returned them as I took a seat next to the window, so I could tune out as much of this meeting as I could. Yet, the air of easy camaraderie quickly dissipated as a figure slid the compartment door open loudly, the chaotic sounds from the rest of the train seeping into the space.

Regulus Black.

If, a few months ago, catching sight of him had startled me with its unexpected politeness, this… this was something else entirely. He was all sharp angles and regal smoothness. An impeccably tailored black outfit of a button-down shirt and trousers replaced his wrinkled school robes. His dark hair, now longer, fell in sleek curls that nearly reached his collar. His grey eyes seemed to hold a colder light than I remembered, or perhaps it was my own perception that had shifted. This was a different animal altogether.

Another thought pounded itself into my gut, he was now the heir to the house of Black. That came with its own darkness and malice that I could now see covering him from infuriatingly perfect hair to his expensive dragonhide boots.

"I apologize for being late, Evans. I had prior business to attend to." His voice resonated through the compartment, deeper now with a raspy edge. He addressed Lily and sat directly across from me next to the window. It was an audacious move, calculated for maximum effect. My jaw tightened, and I had to tear my gaze away to accept the patrol assignment form my sister was handing out.

"It's all right, Black. I was just handing out patrol assignments." Lily's voice was the model of Head Girl composure. She passed him a slip of paper and continued with her duties, a practiced mask of neutrality hiding whatever emotions she might be battling. My eyes raced down the assignment sheet, hoping for a distraction from the simmering tension in the compartment. When I found my name, a small, pleased smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Charms corridor and the Astronomy Tower – excellent choices. Yet, as my gaze skimmed downwards to my assigned partner, a chill coursed through me. Written in my sister's elegant scrawl,

Regulus Black

A sharp breath escaped me, a mix of surprise and a flicker of trepidation. I forced my eyes upwards, desperate to meet his stare, yet finding my gaze snagged on the pulse beating steadily at his throat. Had it always been so visible?

Finally, steeling my resolve, I looked him dead in the eye. The teasing softness I’d witnessed on the train months ago had vanished. His grey-green eyes, mirroring the stormy sky outside the window, held a dark intensity that was equal parts frightening and fascinating. This new iteration of Regulus Black was a puzzle I had no idea how to solve, and a dangerous game I wasn’t sure I wanted to play.

We remained locked in a silent battle of wills. The other prefects continued their chatter around us, voices fading away like whispers as the train lurched forward, breaking the tense stillness. Regulus arched a perfect eyebrow, a hint of a challenge lurking beneath the polished facade. The rest of the train ride passed in a blur of awkward silences and pointedly ignored stares. When we finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station, the familiar crush of students was a relief compared to the suffocating atmosphere of the prefects' compartment. I disembarked as quickly as I could, desperately needing the cool autumn air.

Once on the platform, Lily joined me. We watched as students excitedly reunited, their laughter a stark contrast to the tense encounter I'd just endured. My sister didn't say anything at first. She simply fixed me with a searching look, her brow furrowed slightly.

"That was…" she began, then sighed. "That was a lot. Are you… alright?"

I managed a shaky nod. "I will be. Just surprised. He's…changed."

"He's not the only one," Lily said, her voice quiet. Then, with a small, hesitant smile, she added, "I think you have too, Clem."

“Did you have to pair me with him, Lily?” I whined as we continued side by side. She shrugged and gave me a sympathetic look.

“I couldn’t pair you with Remus for a second year, it wouldn’t have been fair.”

I couldn't dispute that. As I followed the other prefects towards the carriages, a strange sensation pulsed through me – a mix of uncertainty and an undeniable thrill. Hogwarts, with all its secrets and hidden complexities, had always been my true battleground. But this year, it was more personal. This year, my war was not just with Slytherins or a house system that seemed forever stacked against me. It was a battle against my own fear, my doubts, and the lingering question of who I was becoming in this shifting world of light and shadow.

The journey to Hogwarts in the horseless carriage was strangely subdued. Normally I would chatter with Marlene or listen amusedly to James and Peter boast about Quidditch prospects. This time, though, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions. The other prefects likely sensed something was up with Regulus and me, though their common sense thankfully kept them from asking overly prying questions.

When we arrived and filed into the Great Hall, the loud buzz of voices and the warmth radiating from the floating candles was momentarily overwhelming. My gaze sought the Slytherin table instinctively, searching for a familiar dark head. I found him easily, surrounded by the usual cohort, but he didn't glance our way. Instead, his eyes were trained on the head table, where Dumbledore stood to give his opening address.

As the old wizard spoke, his words about unity, fresh starts, and facing challenges echoed off the ancient stone walls. I couldn't help but think how ironic those sentiments seemed for me. Unity felt like a cruel joke, and whether this year was a fresh start or just another chapter in an age-old war remained to be seen.

The irony of Dumbledore's words was an icy weight pressing against my chest. Unity? At a time like this? Voldemort's quickly paced rise to power wasn't just whispered rumors and shadowed conversations, it had become a tangible fear, a darkness that slithered into every corner. Trust had grown fragile, every glance weighted with silent questions: Whose parents whisper in shadowed parlors? Whose friends disappear on moonless nights? I knew I wasn't alone in this newfound wariness, the glances exchanged between houses were strained, hesitant, as if long-held assumptions had disintegrated.

It had never felt so lonely at Hogwarts. I used to find comfort in the predictability, the rhythm of lessons and Quidditch matches, but now even those familiar spaces thrummed with an undercurrent of unease. Friends were scrutinized with an intensity that had only ever been reserved for our Slytherin foes. It was as if the specter of Voldemort forced us to redraw the lines, to re-evaluate every loyalty we'd taken for granted, creating a chilling echo of the house divisions within our own ranks. My eyes, almost against my will, drifted towards the Slytherin table again. They were a sea of emerald, green, yet the defiant pride they usually radiated seemed… muted. My gaze found its usual target, Regulus Black. He stared ahead, face an inscrutable mask, but a flicker of tension in his jaw betrayed something like unease. Was even he, so proud and poised with that pureblood arrogance, feeling the chilling weight of a world spun out of control?

After the plates were cleared, and goblets refilled with pumpkin juice, it was time for the Sorting Ceremony. The first years shuffled in, a mixture of wide-eyed nervousness and bravado evident on their young faces. I had a sudden urge to reach back six years, to when I'd sat there trembling, the Sorting Hat wobbling precariously on my head. So much had happened since that fateful day, so many moments where I'd grappled with the weight of its decision.

After settling the nervous gaggle of first-year Hufflepuffs into their new dorm, I retreated to my own room, exhaustion washing over me like a cold wave. Mary, Amelia, and Emmaline were already soundly asleep, the room filled with rhythmic snores and soft exhalations. It was usually a comforting sound, the symphony of shared space, but tonight the steady beat felt more like a taunt. Sleep wouldn't find me so easily this time.

My mind raced, spinning in dizzying circles. Regulus Black, of all people, somehow kept forcing himself to the forefront of my thoughts. The image of him in the prefect compartment, with his sharp angles and even sharper gaze, was branded in my memory. The Regulus Black of years past was a prat, no doubt about it. Slytherin arrogance had always dripped off him in waves, and his snarky comments had fueled more than one heated argument in the corridors. Yet, beneath that posturing, there had been a flicker of something softer, a hint of a smirk rather than a sneer. Now, those edges had hardened into something cold and brittle.

The summer with his family must have been pure hell. Of course, I knew his parents were monsters, but there was an abstract quality to that knowledge – whispered rumors, secondhand accounts that were easier to distance myself from. Seeing the physical manifestation of their cruelty, the echo of it etched into his very posture, was different. It was raw and undeniable.

A pang of something dangerously close to pity twisted within me. What was it like to face the world with that darkness at your back? What sort of armor did that require? The thought lingered, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. I should have felt a surge of triumph at his transformation, a grim vindication for his usual snide asides. But there was no victory in this coldness, no satisfaction in the way it echoed, in a warped way, my own hardening edges.

Questions swirled relentlessly through my head. The why, of course, was easy enough to grapple with. His parents, the looming shadow of Voldemort, the poison of pureblood doctrine… It was the how that left me feeling strangely unsettled. How does someone vanish kindness from their eyes so completely? How long does such a transformation take? And most worryingly, was there some echo of a similar process happening within me, fueled by different circumstances yet leading to the same chilling destination?

My hand reached absently beneath my pillow, fingers tracing the weathered surface of my father's old pocket watch. A steady ticking filled the silence, a comforting tether to the familiar. The Muggle world might have its limitations, but it was devoid of this soul-deep, generational darkness. My parents argued about chores and balked at the increasing cost of groceries, not about blood purity or whispered oaths in moonlit gardens.

Finally, with the exhaustion winning out, my eyelids grew heavy. The image of Regulus Black, his face a mask of cold indifference, flickered at the edges of my consciousness. In its place, the rhythmic ticking of the watch turned into the steady thudding of a Quidditch Bludger, and the tension in my shoulders began to ease. Tomorrow, there would be Charms homework, Quidditch tryouts lurking on the horizon, and the Slytherins to spar with in class and out. Those battles were familiar, expected. But something told me the war I was fighting with Regulus Black, the silent one simmering beneath the surface, would prove a far more complex sort of challenge.

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My first day of classes started with a double dose of Transfiguration – always a mixed bag. McGonagall was as sharp as ever, but the sixth-year material made my brain ache, the complexities of advanced transfigurations requiring a level of focus I wasn't sure I possessed after the chaos of the summer. Thankfully, I was seated next to Pandora, who'd become a surprisingly close friend last year. Her chaotic Ravenclaw energy balanced my Gryffindor stubbornness perfectly.

"Do you think she actually knows what's on the N.E.W.T. exams?" I whispered to Pandora midway through, as Professor McGonagall launched into a rather terrifying explanation of vanishing complex organisms.

Pandora, her silver-blonde chaotic hair pulled into a messy braid, snorted. "Clem, she writes half the exams. Of course she knows!"

"Still…" I grimaced, staring at the gargoyle-to-teapot transfiguration I was butchering with alarming consistency. The idea of that level of scrutiny felt akin to facing down a particularly vicious Hungarian Horntail.

Yet, even amidst the stress, I couldn't deny the rush of satisfaction that came with tackling more complex spells. It was like a complicated puzzle, a dance of wand movements and focus. It offered a welcome distraction from dwelling on the darkness that hovered at the edge of my thoughts.

By the time the final bell rang, my brain felt thoroughly fried. I stumbled out of the classroom with Pandora, both of us mentally preparing for the horror that was History of Magic. Professor Binns, a ghostly specter, had the uncanny ability to make even the most fascinating subjects feel like a torturous dirge.

"Just breathe," Pandora advised with mock seriousness as we made our way towards the dullest classroom in Hogwarts. "Focus on how soft the chairs are. Maybe Binns won't notice if you take a quick nap?"

The class was exactly as I remembered: Binns' monotone voice droning on about goblin rebellions, half the class slumped over their desks in various states of slumber. I fought valiantly against the overwhelming urge to give in to the siren call of sleep. Instead, I resorted to my time-honored tradition of doodling Quidditch plays on the corner of my parchment.

An eternity later (or, more likely, a regular forty-minute class period), Binns finally released us with a spectral sigh. As I left the room, blinking rapidly like an owl caught in a sudden downpour, I spotted a familiar mop of messy dark hair down the corridor. A jolt of excited anticipation shot through me – it was Sirius.

Next to him, James was gesticulating wildly, his laughter echoing down the hall. I broke into a grin, any lingering tiredness replaced by a rush of warmth. Some things, at least, remained wonderfully, reassuringly the same.

I jogged to catch up with them, relief and joy bubbling within me in equal measure. Sirius had a wide grin plastered across his face when I reached them.

"Kit! Back to torture us all with your reckless flying again, are you?" he said, the warmth in his voice chasing away the ghostly whispers of History of Magic.

"Only if you and Prongs are up for a challenge," I retorted, tossing my bag over my shoulder. "Free period, and the Quidditch Pitch is empty. I was thinking a little two-on-one might be good practice."

James was already nodding enthusiastically, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You're on, Evans. Prepare to be thoroughly trounced."

We wasted no time grabbing a set of practice brooms from the equipment shed. The autumn air was cool and crisp as we made our way onto the pitch. I could already feel the tension of the school year fading away, replaced by a familiar surge of adrenaline.

Sirius and James positioned themselves close together, ready to pass the Quaffle between them in a dizzying dance that was meant to disorientate me. I took a deep breath, pushing back a flicker of uncertainty. Flying was where I truly felt free, where I could be bold and daring without the weight of house rivalries or the lingering darkness that clouded so much of my life.

With a sharp whistle, James released the Quaffle straight into the air. I shot away from my starting position, weaving between my opponents, my eyes glued to the glint of red leather amidst the swirling afternoon clouds. Sirius darted close, nearly clipping my broom, but I swerved away with a laugh. My robes billowed around me as I picked up speed, chasing the Quaffle like a hawk after a field mouse.

For the better part of the hour, we tore through the sky, our laughter echoing against the stone walls of Hogwarts. Each stolen goal, each near-miss, was a victory. I felt lighter, brighter, like some version of myself I hadn't had access to in a long time.

When we finally sank back down onto the grass, my face ached from smiling. James was sprawled out on the ground, his chest heaving from exertion. Sirius, to my surprise, looked contemplative rather than his usual cocky self.

"You've gotten better, Kit," he admitted begrudgingly. "Honestly didn't think I'd have to try that hard."

The compliment, so unexpected, warmed me more than any Quidditch victory could.

The three of us stayed silent for a moment, the only sound passed between us was the heavy pants as we struggled to catch and calm our breath. We lingered on the Quidditch pitch, a sense of unspoken tension settling over us. The easy laughter from moments ago had faded into an uneasy silence. I studied Sirius, noting the fine tremors in his hands, the way he picked at a loose thread on his robes, avoiding eye contact. It was an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, a stark contrast to his usual bravado.

With a tentative sigh, I turned to him, leaning on my elbow as I looked up at him. "How are things with the Potters?" I asked hesitantly, my eyes full of concern and worry for him.

Something akin to relief flickered across his face. It was a small opening, a fragile invitation to share his burden. "They're… they're good," he began slowly. "James’s mum and dad, I mean. They're everything my parents were not."

He described his room – no longer a cramped, stuffy prison, but a space of his own, filled with Quidditch posters and messy piles of books. He spoke of Mrs. Potter's fussing and the endless supply of homemade treats that magically appeared every morning like she could somehow sense his perpetual state of hunger. There was warmth in his voice when he mentioned Mr. Potter, who'd spent hours teaching him the intricacies of obscure wizarding enchantments.

James listened intently, his usual smirk replaced by a softness that was surprisingly endearing. "It's good you're finally with people who give a damn, mate. You deserve it."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius mumbled, a faint flush creeping up his neck, "My mum would probably have a fit if she saw how much they spoil me."

But as he spoke, a subtle change washed over him. The genuine gratitude faded, replaced by a familiar flicker of bitterness in his eyes. I knew that despite the kindness of the Potters, the echoes of his broken home still haunted him.

"I tried speaking to Reg, on the train." He swallows thickly, pain clear in his eyes as he meets mine. "He wouldn't even look at me." He chokes a bit at the end of his sentence and his expression turns bitter. "My little brother, the great Black heir." He spits.

The words hung heavy in the air. James shifted uncomfortably, sensing the sharp twist in the conversation. Regulus, the ghost at the feast of our newfound peace, was a shadow neither of us knew how to dispel.

A complicated cocktail of emotions swirled within me. There was sympathy – a deep-seated understanding of what it meant to have family twist into something toxic and painful. Yet, a nagging worry gnawed at me. Sirius, with his open rebellion and fierce defiance, was easy to empathize with. But Regulus, that quiet enigma… he was a much harder puzzle to decipher. My experience in the prefects' compartment, witnessing his chilling transformation, only solidified that unease.

"Maybe," I began hesitantly, hating the way my voice faltered slightly, "maybe give him some time, Pads. Things… they change."

My attempt at comfort fell spectacularly flat. Sirius let out a harsh laugh, the sound devoid of any real amusement. "You think he hasn't had enough time? Years of listening to our parents' whisper poison while I yelled and broke every rule I could. He chose his path, Clem. Don't ask me to feel sorry for him."

I flinched. His words were a harsh reminder of the fundamental division between us. Even with my own changing perceptions of Regulus, I couldn't fathom abandoning Lily during her darkest moments. That fierce loyalty, born of shared history and unwavering love, was a foreign concept to Sirius. Our experiences might twist and turn, but that core difference remained a chasm too wide to bridge.

"Of course not," I said quietly, pushing down the flare of defensiveness. "I just…" I trailed off, unsure how to articulate the worry I carried, not just for Regulus, but for how this growing darkness would continue to shape Sirius himself.

He stared down at the grass, a muscle in his jaw working. "It's twisted, you know? Having a brother on the wrong side of all this." He gestured vaguely toward the castle, his meaning clear. "He's not just Regulus now, Kit. He's something else now. Something I don't even recognize."

A cold shiver snaked down my spine. The Regulus of our previous encounters, the one who traded polite barbs in the corridor, felt like a distant memory. The image of him on the train, the icy hardness in his eyes, surfaced unbidden.

"He'll grow up, Sirius. It'll just be a different path," I offered, even though I wasn't fully convinced of my own words. There was a darkness brewing within the Black brothers, of that I was certain. But how it would ultimately consume or change them, that remained an agonizing mystery.

James, ever the optimist, wrapped an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Come on, enough of this moping. You're safe now, with us. Let's forget about the Blacks and their whole messed-up family for a bit."

Sirius allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, a half-hearted grin spreading across his face. For the next hour, we returned to our usual Quidditch banter, throwing outlandish ideas for new plays and mercilessly teasing each other. The shadows receded, and for those precious stolen moments, it wasn't about the war looming outside the castle gates. It was just us, three friends bound by laughter and a shared love of flying.

Yet, as we finally parted ways, a lingering unease clung to me. The specter of the Black brothers and the darkness that enveloped them was a wound that wouldn’t easily heal – not for them, and increasingly it felt, not for me either.

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The night that followed was restless. Sleep evaded me as fragments of the day spun relentlessly in my head: Sirius's haunted look, Regulus's cold stare, the echoing laughter on the Quidditch pitch that hadn't quite chased away the chill settling in my bones. At Hogwarts, amidst the comforting chaos, there was no true escape.

My owl, Zephyr, a sleek barn owl with feathers as white as snow, had been a gift from Remus the previous year. He seemed to sense my anxiety, his golden eyes wide with concern as he hopped onto the edge of my bed. I stroked his feathers gently.

"It'll be a long year, won't it?" I whispered to him, the question more of a quiet acceptance than a search for an answer.

The first owls of the morning arrived before I managed a few fitful hours of sleep. Exhaustion made every lesson that day feel like an uphill battle. Charms proved tedious, Potions was a disaster (Slughorn's booming voice felt like an assault on my fragile nerves), and by the time dinner rolled around, I was ready to collapse.

The Great Hall buzzed with energy, the start-of-term excitement mixing with whispered conversations of Voldemort's return and speculations about what the year ahead might hold. Marlene waved me over to a spot she'd saved, a pile of chocolate frogs stacked strategically to defend their territory.

"You look like a zombie," she declared bluntly, shoving a frog in my direction. "Bad night, Evans?"

"Just couldn't sleep. Head too full, you know?" I forced a smile, but Marlene wasn't fooled. She was alarmingly perceptive when she decided to be.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar gleam of mischief replacing her concern. "Was it a certain black-haired, brooding type that kept you awake?" she asked, a sly grin spreading across her face. I rolled my eyes; my closest friends still teased me about my crush on Sirius that had plagued me in my 3rd and 4th year and Marlene was the worst.

"No," I denied. "It's the NEWTs, I swear. McGonagall's lecture still echoes in my nightmares."

"Oh, come off it, Evans," she laughed. "You've always been brilliant in class. This is different. Spill."

Before I could formulate a proper denial that might actually convince her, Lily appeared. Her eyes, filled with a mix of resignation and amusement, met mine. She understood, even if Marlene was still in the dark.

"McGonagall wants to see all of the prefects after dinner," she announced. Her Head Girl voice was firmly in place, yet I caught a glimpse of the same tiredness that plagued me reflected in her gaze.

I let out a groan. "What did we do now? Are the Slytherins already brewing some nefarious scheme this early in the year?"

"Something about patrols and scheduling," Lily mumbled, I sighed, pushing half-eaten potatoes around my plate. The thought of patrolling the halls with Regulus Black was almost as unwelcome as sitting through a double period of History of Magic with Binns. We shuffled into McGonagall's office after breakfast, the usual air of cheerful prefect camaraderie replaced by an undercurrent of unease. The events over the summer hung unspoken between us. Even the silliest of our first-year charges seemed to sense the shift.

As McGonagall began to outline our duties, I glanced around the room. The faces of my fellow prefects were a mix of determination and barely concealed anxiety. Lily sat ramrod straight, her expression focused, a clear attempt to mask her own exhaustion. A few seats away, Bertram Aubrey, the Ravenclaw prefect with hair that refused to be tamed, nervously adjusted his badge. And, across from me, Regulus Black sat perfectly still, the faint light from the window making his sharp cheekbones appear even sharper. He looked more like a marble statue than a living, breathing human.

A small, traitorous part of me wondered if his summer had been as riddled with nightmares and lingering fear as my own. If the change I saw in him mirrored a darkness that was spreading through Sirius as well. The thought was chillingly unsettling.

"Don't worry, Evans, I'm sure you two will be thick as thieves by the end of the year," a vaguely familiar voice piped up from behind me. It was Lucinda, a Slytherin prefect and the new captain of the quidditch team. I'd barely spoken two words to her in the past five years.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. For years, certain people who found my friendship with Sirius odd had taken to teasing me about a supposed crush on him. I'd done my best to ignore it, but with Lily sitting just a few seats ahead, the old annoyance flared to life.

Just as I was formulating a suitably scathing retort, Lily spoke. "Honestly, Lucinda, you'd think by sixth year people would find a new joke. " Her voice held an icy edge that I knew all too well. It was the tone reserved for those who had crossed an invisible line.

Lucinda flushed crimson, muttering a half-hearted apology, but the damage was done. My stomach churned with a mix of embarrassment and a lingering annoyance.

"It's fine, Lily. Honestly." I waved off her concern. "Those rumors faded years ago."

It wasn't entirely true. People still whispered and speculated at our closeness. Now, though, the very idea seemed absurd. Sirius was a walking storm cloud and the thought of navigating his darkness on top of my own was utterly unappealing.

McGonagall cleared her throat, mercifully breaking the awkward silence. "As I was saying, patrols are doubly important this year. There are dangers lurking both inside and outside of these walls. It is imperative you follow your schedules diligently." Her gaze seemed to linger on me and Regulus for a millisecond longer than was strictly necessary.

When she went over the patrol pairs, a knot of dread formed in my stomach. The list was the same one Lily had handed out on the train. Regulus Black, my official partner in ensuring Hogwarts didn't descend into complete chaos. I couldn't even muster a silent groan.

Across the room, I caught his eye for a fleeting moment. If he thought the pairing was as dreadful as I did, he didn't let it show. His expression remained maddeningly unreadable.

The meeting ended with a final set of dire warnings from McGonagall about the importance of vigilance and the perils of wandering alone at night. As we dispersed, a sense of heavy inevitability settled over me. This year, more than any other, felt like a battle, and my assigned partner was the last person I'd have chosen to fight it with.

Pandora and Remus waited for me outside McGonagall's office. My mood, which had already been on a precarious ledge, took a further nosedive at the sight of Regulus falling in line with Lily. At least she'd had a chance to prepare herself, unlike me.

"Lily can’t put in a good word and have you paired with someone else?" Remus asked, his voice low. He could always read me better than the others.

“It wouldn't be fair.” I shrugged.

“Rotten luck.” Pandora shot me a sympathetic look.

"You have no idea," I muttered, trying to tamp down the rising frustration.

Just then, we were interrupted by a commotion further down the hall – laughter, shouts, and the unmistakable sound of several large objects being dropped. As we got closer, we realized the source was James, Sirius, and a group of younger Gryffindors, engaged in what looked suspiciously like an after-breakfast broomstick race in the corridor.

Remus sighed, a familiar mix of fondness and exasperation flashing across his face. "Honestly, is it any wonder McGonagall thinks we need constant supervision?"

Before I could offer a sarcastic retort, a figure detached itself from the crowd and approached us. Regulus Black.

"A word, Evans." He didn't wait for a reply, his voice low and clipped.

I blinked, startled at both the interruption and his blunt request. Turning to my friends, I offered a weak smile. "Go ahead, I'll catch up."

Pandora and Remus exchanged worried glances, but retreated, leaving me alone with Hogwarts' most frustrating enigma. Regulus waited until we were a reasonable distance from the chaos before speaking again, his tone bordering on hostile.

"We have Tuesdays," he stated, glancing down at the patrol schedule in his hand, "and Thursdays as well."

I struggled not to twitch in irritation, did he think I was dim enough to not read the schedule?

He looked up, his grey eyes eerily blank. "We'll meet by the statue in the Transfiguration Courtyard. At seven. I despise tardiness, so don't be late."

He turned and walked away, leaving no room for argument.

My hands clenched into fists. "Did you need my input, or would you have liked me to just stand silently and nod?" I called after him, unable to contain my sarcasm.

Regulus froze mid-stride, his shoulders stiffening. Slowly, he turned back to face me. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes – anger, maybe even a hint of surprise – but it vanished as quickly as it came.

"It would have been much more efficient, Evans," he replied flatly. His voice held all the warmth of a frozen icicle. With that, he continued down the corridor, leaving me to grapple with a jumbled mess of annoyance and a grudging sort of respect. The boy knew how to get his point across, that was for certain.

I spent the rest of the morning attempting to focus on Quidditch tryouts with Pandora and Remus. They both peppered me with questions about patrols, clearly sensing something was amiss, but I deflected skillfully, hiding behind my excitement about potentially snagging one of the open Beater spots on the Hufflepuff team.

The rest of my day played out like a discordant symphony. The familiar routine of classes offered a semblance of normalcy, but it was a thin veneer masking the unease that thrummed just beneath the surface.

Herbology was as predictable as ever. Professor Sprout, with her perpetually dirt-stained robes and ever-present smile, exuded a cheerful pragmatism that was almost contagious. We spent the hour repotting particularly aggressive Shrivelfigs, their spiky leaves and tendency to spit acidic juice making the process more akin to wrestling an unruly toddler than tending plants. As I struggled to contain an explosion of purple goo, a flicker of amusement crossed my face. There was, at least, a certain satisfaction in the absurdity of it.

But then came Potions. The dungeon classroom, with its flickering lamps and shelves laden with ingredients that ranged from the mundane to the downright unsettling, always carried an air of suppressed tension. Sharing the space with Slytherins only amplified it. Slughorn, ever the jovial showman, seemed oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him. Or perhaps, he simply didn't care.

With each precise instruction doled out in his booming voice, a wave of anxiety washed over me. Potions required meticulous attention to detail, the sort of focus I severely lacked at the moment. One misstep could result in a minor disaster, or, if you were particularly unlucky, something far more catastrophic. Today, even the simple task of slicing knotgrass roots felt fraught with peril.

My gaze drifted to the Slytherin side of the room, settling on a hunched figure. Regulus Black worked with an almost unsettling intensity. His movements were fluid, confident, and each ingredient was added with practiced ease. There was a darkness about him, but it wasn't the same volatile energy I sensed in Sirius. His was a quiet sort, a controlled burn that hinted at depths I couldn't fathom.

A knot of resentment tightened in my chest. Why did he have to be so… competent? Why couldn't he be a bumbling fool, thus making it easier to stick to my neatly divided worldview of good and bad?

I forced my attention back to my own cauldron, which was emitting a rather suspicious-smelling smoke. My attempt to create a Wiggenweld potion was clearly going south. As I frantically consulted my tattered Potions textbook, I could feel a pair of grey eyes studying my frantic movements.

With a resigned sigh, I flagged down Slughorn. "Professor, I think I might have added the Bezoar a bit too late..."

He peered into the cauldron, a slight frown creasing his jovial face. "Ah, well, Miss Evans, seems like this potion has taken a turn for the whimsical! Not to worry, a simple Vanishing Spell should help…unless, of course, you fancy a demonstration of accidental hair growth?"

A ripple of amused laughter spread throughout the Slytherin side of the room. My cheeks burned. Of course they'd find my misfortune entertaining.

I muttered the incantation under my breath, picturing my failed potion vanishing into thin air. A fresh wave of frustration gnawed at me. It had been years since I'd performed this poorly at Potions, and the fact that Regulus had likely witnessed the whole debacle only made it worse. At least in Charms, I could blame a misfired spell on a faulty wand. Potions, though, that required actual skill. A skill I seemed to be rapidly losing.

The thought of him, with his perfect composure and the mocking laughter of his house ringing in my ears, was almost as unbearable as the lingering stench of my failed Wiggenweld. Yet, the memory of his words the previous evening, the curt efficiency, lingered as well. Perhaps, in some twisted way, our patrols would offer a strange kind of respite. In the solitude of Hogwarts' corridors, where the only enemy was the lurking darkness, maybe our roles would be clearer. The thought offered the faintest flicker of hope, a candle flame stubbornly refusing to extinguish in the face of an impending storm.

#regulus black #regulus deserved better #sirius and regulus #regulus black x oc #regulus x oc #the maruaders #regulus black x hufflepuff reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #marauders era

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sweetescapeartist · 1 year

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FIXING THE MORO & GRANOLAH ARCS

This is a long post. But, here I will rewrite scenes to make the arcs better because there are a TON of flaws & bad writing. Ppl are OOC, abilities get nerfed without explanation, things are said that contradict the entire series (like 17 & 18 not having life energy when they have been shown to donate life energy to the Genki Dama in the original series). And there are things said that have no payoff and end up being pointoess inclusions. So without further ado, here we go.

GALACTIC PRISONER ARC:

Moro's magical abilities stay consitent. Grand Supreme Kai lost most of his godly energy to seal Moro, so that means barely any of it would be given to Uub. Uub is mentioned, but he does not get involved in any kind of way. Vegeta training with the Yardrats does not happen because he doesn't use any of those abilities after that arc, so it was pointless. And most importantly, there is no "Angel in training" Merus in this. We barely saw Goku train with him and didn't see them form a friendship. We are just told it happened & are given a quick flashback AFTER Merus sacrifices himself. (I dont see any value Merus added to the story besides being a plot device that dies, comes back, removed from being an Angel, and is never mentioned again in the following arc. Toyotaro added an Angel but had to make him not Angel so it does not conflict with Toriyama's future plans.) A lot of things only happen in the current manga arc, then aren't shown again. Toyo makes something up that ends up conflicting with what Toriyama has planned, Toyotaro finds a way to backtrack. So here are my fixes...

Jaco comes to get Majin Buu for help. Goku arrives and asks whats going on. Jaco explains that he was told to awaken the Grand Supreme Kai within Buu. He ends up asking Goku and Vegeta for help since they are actually on Earth & not training at Beerus' planet.

They learn about Moro, Moro escapes and uses his magic to drain the life energy of the prison gaurds. Moro also releases the prisoners. Still at the prison, Goku and Vegeta arrive & fight the prisoners but the two end up getting their ki drained and having to retreat to a ship when Moro destroys the prison. The prisoners were all saved by Moro and put in ships. Goku and Vegeta teleported to Jaco's ship.

At this time, Buu awakes and leaves the ship to fight Moro in space. The Grand Supreme Kai emerges. Their magical battle is what makes them somewhat even but in the end, Buu is defeated and Goku has to turn SSB then teleport in space to save Buu then go back to the ship.

Defeated, they plan on what to do next. They decide they need to train with Whis more. Vegeta DOES NOT train with the Yardrats. Instead, he went to train with Whis more, but ends up training under Beerus. Meanwhile, Goku trains under Whis.

The warriors of Earth fight 7-3 and other minions. Jaco ends up buying them time to train. (This can remain the same.)

Moro arrives with his army who are amped up by his magic. But despite this, the Earth's heroes are victorious. Everyone defeats the minions. Gohan & Piccolo defeat 7-3, Krillin defeats the panda bear guy and he and Roshi defeat the 3 fused women, Yamcha beats his dude up, Tien & Chaozu beat the metal man up. And 17 & 18 fight in some battle too.

Moro decides to get his hands dirty himself. Everyone tries to fight him but get beat up by Moro.

An impatient Goku senses the battle and uses Instant Transmission to get to Earth to help his friends. He fights old man Moro using UI principles while in SSG & SSB. He ultimately loses.

Then Whis & Beerus arrive on Earth with Vegeta. Vegeta shows off his Hakai technique he's been working on. He gives old man Moro a scare by destroying one of his arms.

Moro manages to escape, absorbs 7-3, and regains his youth (I dislike the knock off Cell appearance so this will be young ram Moro). Vegeta tries holding him off but cannot do so alone. Goku jumps in to help along with the others. But they all get defeated. Beerus thinks about helping out, but when Goku sees everyone defeated, Goku finally taps into UI Omen.

UI Omen Goku defeats Moro and finishes him for good.

Since the Earth warriors were made honorary members of the Galactic Patrol like Goku & Vegeta were, they are all in a picture with their medals instead of just Goku, Vegeta, & Buu.

GRANOLAH THE SURVIVOR ARC

Granolah and Gas dont learn Hakai out of nowhere. That's dumb. And Gas can't use Instant Transmission either. That's dumb. They only have amplified versions of the skills they currently have. Monaito does not suddenly get his healing abilities amplified. He just does the best he can.

Goku and Vegeta get back to their training. Goku can use UI Omen at will but is training to use MUI. Vegeta is trying to learn more from Beerus. We actually see Beerus use a purple flaming aura.

Goku & Vegeta fight Granolah. Goku goes first. Once he goes SSB, he thinks he defeated Granolah then gets knocked out by him.

Vegeta fights Granolah and taps into the power he saw Beerus tap into. Vegeta manages to win. And Granolah is surprised that a Saiyan does not kill him. Then, Monaito explains how a Saiyan once spared them before. (Not "save" because that contradicts a lot.)

Flashback; There is an invasion on planet Cereal. The people are fighting for their lives against the invaders but they have mostly lost. Then 7 pods crash land on the planet. From there, Bardock and his crew hop out and start fighting as Oozaru since the moon is out. They kill all the space pirates with ease. Then one of the surviving the Cerealians Flayk destroys the moon to stop the Saiyans from slaughtering them next. From there the pirates kill Flayk then go attack the last few survivors as well as attempting to attack the Saiyans. But the Saiyans finish the pirates off. Bardock's crew leaves, but he decides to stay behind a while. He smells something fishy about these pirates and wonders why somebody other than Freeza's army were attacking the planet. So he looks for clues.

Continued flashback; While searching for some sort of information, Bardock sees a passed out Granolah being held by Muesli and Monaito. In fear they ask why didn't he kill them. He says he saw the destruction from space and just wanted a good fight. He wasnt even supposed to be there & he has no reason to do battle with an opponent who won't fight him (referring to Monaito & Meusli). Then, the Heeters show up. Elec has an high-tech eyepatch over his eye that he uses to detect Bardock. It's his version of the scouters Freeza's soldiers use. Elec asks what the Saiyan is doing here & threatens to tell Freeza. Bardock tells him go ahead and tell Freeza how Elec and his family are trying to take planets from him by hiring pirates to wipe the inhabitants out, then sell the planets to Freeza at a higher price. Elec shows irritation. Granolah wakes up and sees Bardock and yells "Saiyan!" Monaito quickly tries to put him asleep & Meusli covers his mouth, but a beam shoots through the house and hits Muesli. That's the last thing Granolah sees before he passes out again. A Saiyan & his mother being struck by a beam. But it was Elec who killed Granolah's mother.

Continued flashback; Bardock then fires an attack at Elec and his family, but its blocked by Gas' barrier. Then, the two fight with Bardock having the advantage until Gas releases his instincts and hulks out. Bardock is losing, but keeps fighting. Meanwhile" Monaito summons the dragon to wish Bardock and himself and Granolah away, but Bardock says to wait. He wants to beat this guy. With great effort Bardock fights and uses skill to outmanuever the "mindless beast" Gas. Bardock wins, but he collapses from exhaustion.

Continued flashback; Elec arrives. He is angry at the defeat of Gas and plans to finish Bardock off himself. When he pulls out his gun, Bardock blasts it out of his hand as he smirks and begins to pass out. In a fit of rage, Elec removes his pendant & releases his instincts. BUT his transformation is not shown yet. At that exact moment, Monaito wished for Bardock to return home and Bardock who was barely concious & only thought about returning home. Then Bardock is gone & the flashback ends.

Then Moaito in the present explains that a furious Elec found him and threatened to kill him and Granolah if he didn't do as he commanded. Monaito explains that Elec was the one who killed Granolah's mother and he wanted to make Granolah his own personal Saiyan assassin, but the Saiyans were wiped out some time after. Granolah angrily takes off his eyepatch that was given to him by Elec. Monaito picks it up & asks why Granolah did that when he upgraded the eyepatch himself & even named it Oatmil. Granolah says he wants nothing from the Heeters. They've lied to him and used him his entire life.

Then, Gas shows up as the new strongest in the universe after a wish was made and fights the heroes. They all get defeated until Granolah unlocks his second red eye (his true power) and beats Gas who just released his instincts, but lost control again. Elec gives Gas a pep talk and Gas controls his instincts. Then Gas slims down and fights Granolah, defeating him. Gas also damages his right eye that is unique to his people. Then, Elec shoots Granolah in the stomach. He falls unconcious.

Goku and Vegeta power up and prepare to fight Gas. Their plan is to make him lose control so they can find openings as Bardock did. They do so while Monaito heals Granolah. The plan is working and they manage to defeat Gas together as UI Goku & UE Vegeta (or some similar form), but are exhausted & depleted on ki.

Next, Elec walks up to Gas. Gas begs for help. Then, Elec pulls out his gun in order to shoot Gas who is now useless to him (kinda a refernece to how Vegeta killed Nappa). But, Goku shoots the gun out Elec'd hand with a ki blast & smirks. Elec gets reminded of Bardock. He tells Goku that there is no dragon to save him this time (as if he was talking to Bardock). Elec takes off his pendant, unleashes his instincts, and transforms. It was foreshadowed in CH 80 page 24 that all the Heeters can unleash some sort of instinct power, so why not make use of that?

Elec pumels Goku and Vegeta while saying he may not be the strongest in the universe, but he can handle two worn out Saiyans like them. (Elec is revealed to have been the strongest Heeter until he wished for Gas to be the strongest in the universe.) Before he can land a killing blow on Goku & Vegeta, a blast is fired through Elec's chest. A barely healed Granolah is using Oatmil to assist his aim and shoots elec with his own gun, killing Elec in a similar way how Elec killed his mother. But, Granolah killed to protect others instead.

They all lay tired as Monaito goes to heal them. He heals Goku & Vegeta a bit, then Freeza's ship appears and Freeza leaps from it. He asks where Elec is and sees him dead on the ground. Freeza says its a pity because he wanted to kill him himself. He "asks" if the other Heeter want to work for him. But before they can answer, Gas, who is still following Elecs orders, rages out and fights Freeza. But Freeza effortlessly kills him. Freeza says he'll ask again. Oil and Maki agree.

Freeza looks at Goku and Vegeta who aren't in any kind of fighting condition. He slightly powers up with a powerful aura then stops. He smirks then tells them that killing them.now wouldn't be satisfying. He plans to defeat them at their best to make them bow to him. He would rather they live with the fact that he is above them once again. (A parallel to how SSJ Goku wanted Freeza to live with the knowledge that a "lowly Saiyan" was now far above him.) Then Freeza departs as he says they will meet again.

Soon after, Whis arrives and heals everyone up. Goku asks if Whis was watching the entire time. He says he watched most of the fight. Then the oracle fish adds that none of them looked like the strongest that would rise. Goku & Vegeta are surprised. Then the two part ways with Granolah & Monaito to return to their training. Monaito says he will make a wish to heal the planet & then deactivate the Dragon Balls. Granolah asks if he can make another wish. It's implied thst he wants the Cerealians to cohabit the planet with the Sugarians like how the Cerealians onces cohabited Planet Cereal with Namekians. But it is never shown.

Boom. Done. It aint the best, but its better than what we got. There is a pay-off to things foreshadowed, subtle references, Bardock's personality isnt changed & he retains his DB Minus/DBS: Broly attitude, Goku isn't being nerfed, Vegeta actually wins with his new form without it making Goku look bad, things remain consistent.

#DB rewrite #DBS manga #Galactic Prisoner Arc #Moro arc #Granolah The Survivor Arc #Granolah arc #DB #DBZ #DBS

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