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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 6 months

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Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 12

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from 'Enchanted' by Taylor Swift

Omg I can't believe we've reached the last chapter of this fic!! For everyone that has made it so far I'd like to give my biggest and most sincere THANK YOU!!!! I was very insecure coming into this because I adore Meiri but I wasn't sure I'd be able to write a story good enough to captivate people when centering it around an OC, especially since I don't do a lot of art for her and I feel like that's generally what makes people grow fond of original characters. But anyway, Thank you so much for giving me (and her!) a chance. I hope this has been fun to read, because I sure loved writing it <3

Oh and for everyone who not only read but also commented/left tags I'd like to offer my entire soul. It's yours now. You don't want it? Too bad. Not my problem anymore.

Chapter title: This was the very first page

Read it on ao3

Edmund didn’t know how to handle children. That was a fact. Most parents also did not know how to handle children. That was also a fact. Yet a good deal of adults seemed to grow up without any major upbringing-related trauma. At least those raised by people who actively tried to not be manipulative and bigoted assholes; Edmund wouldn’t know anything about that, either. That train of thought had been circling around in his mind for the majority of his waking time since the last Meiri-related incident (the other part of the time it was filled with an annoying jingle he was cursed to listen every time he turned on the radio), yet it never led him to any conclusion. Edmund didn’t have the first clue if he had done something wrong, what it had been, and if he’d continue bringing the girl distress should she come back in the near future.

But certainly, he hadn’t been doing so bad that she wouldn’t show up ever again, had he? It wasn’t like she showed up every day religiously during normal times, but the fact that it had been almost a week since she showed up in his house lashing out and clearly hurt and he hadn’t seen hair nor hide of her since made him uneasy. Like too much had been left unresolved and unsaid and if that was the last he’d ever see of her, she’d always carry a thread of his being around, and he’d live every day with that empty feeling of something missing, something tied elsewhere.

Therefore, for all the thinking he had been doing on the matter, it should not have startled him so when he heard her voice behind himself while he was putting up clothes on his clothesline.

“Have you ever seen a bleeding tooth?” She asked, making him jump in surprise and turn around without even registering the movement, fully expecting to see her hurt with blood coming out of her mouth and ready to rush to whatever help he could provide.

Which would mostly consist of picking her up and running to the hospital, so it was very relieving to find her looking perfectly normal, if a little uncomfortable.

“Damn, kid, you startled me.” He said, as everyone does when a moment of fright’s worth of adrenaline stops them from forming any other sentence and doing anything else besides bringing their hand to their racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean it like a complaint, but he had to admit the wording was a little careless when she shifted her weight from her right foot to her left one and stopped trying to even look in his general vicinity. Great.

“Have you ever seen a bleeding tooth?” She repeated, this time adding context. “It’s a mushroom.”

Of course it was. Edmund rolled up his sleeves, a nervous habit of his own; they felt tight around his arms every now and then.

“Can’t say I have.”

“I found some nearby.” She gripped her backpack’s straps; she wasn’t wearing her school uniform, though, which struck him as odd. “Probably because it rained. Well, you know, they were already there, but because it was wet the mycelia must have soaked up all that moisture and made it actually look like a bleeding tooth. Wanna see?”

Mouth already open, Edmund’s answer changed before he even realized, as good sense overrode his instinct. He couldn’t say who was more surprised by his ‘no’, himself or the girl, but he could tell he had to do something immediately because he was quite certain it was tears he was seeing gathering in her eyes.

“You can show it to me later.” He added quickly, trying to convey that he wasn’t mad and nor had he stopped caring. That seemed to appease her some. “First I want ya to tell me if you’re okay.”

Meiri shrugged; she was looking at the general direction of his face now, which was good.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Very rarely did she crumble first when they were both standing their ground, but his crossed arms and single raised eyebrow were more efficient that day than they had been known to be, and a few seconds of it had her sighing and slumping her little shoulders.

“I’m sorry, okay?” She said, like she was desperate for it but dreaded having to do it at the same time. “I was rude, and shouldn’t have acted like that. Alright?”

She stared up at him defiantly, but so tense that the insecurity seemed to drip off of her like water when one was caught in a bout of rain. Her lip was wobbling; she wasn’t daring him to go back on what he’d said. The challenge she was proposing was much scarier – keep your stance and let me stay.

“That’s not what I asked.” He said unhelpfully much to the little girl’s annoyance. She huffed, not understanding why he couldn’t just take the apology and go back to normal. She’d already offered everything she had, the least he could do was spare her his weird meandering logic. They both knew they'd have to get to the apology, anyway, so why not cut straight to the point?

“I’m fine.” She crossed her arms, not only because at some point she’d taken to mimicking his stances but also to shield herself from the cool, damp air. He was an idiot to leave laundry out to dry when the weather was like this.

He was an idiot, period. And a particularly frustrating one when he did nothing but stare at her skeptically.

“Meiri.” He said, and she knew it was serious because he probably wouldn’t have used her name if it wasn’t. Her stomach sank and it was anyone’s guess if the feeling came from the cold or from her nerves. “We aren’t going anywhere unless you’re honest, kid. Are you doing okay?”

Meiri let her head drop back with a grunt. “I’m not! I feel awful, are you happy?”

“Of course I’m not happy.” She was going to murder him. She was actually going to murder him because what did this man even want from her? “I never want you to feel bad. But is there something I can do?”

“Well, obviously!” She snapped without any real heat behind it. “I wouldn’t have come here if there wasn’t.”

He didn’t bulge. “So…?”

“So I’m sorry!” She sounded pleading now, and was fully aware of it. “I was mean when I shouldn’t have been. Can we just do something else now?”

Edmund sighed, deciding to put down the basket of clothing pegs since this was probably something he would want to give his complete attention to. Not like he was going to continue hanging up clothes, anyway.

“We can, but I don’t think we should.”

“I think we should. Let’s go see the mushrooms.”

One look from him made it clear she wasn’t going to have it the easy way, and she shut up most unwillingly.

Edmund kneeled in front of her, making it harder for her to discreetly look away now that they were on the same level. His pants would be tainted with wet dirt, but he couldn’t care less. There was a reason why he insisted on sturdy clothing.

“I know you are sorry.” He said, half of his brain circling back to the earlier thought of I Don’t Know How To Children, and the other half having enough sense to figure that it was probably like dealing with a grown person, except you could scar them for life. No biggie. “And I’m glad you came to tell me this. But I want to understand what happened.”

“You know what happened. I screamed at you.”

Edmund sighed. “I know-”

“I know you know. That’s what I just said.”

Ignoring the interruption after a pointed look at her (though seeing how nervous the kid looked despite her efforts to sound exasperated didn’t help him), he continued.

“I know what happened after you arrived, but I also know you’re a very good kid.” Meiri grumbled something unintelligible, and he could sense the self-deprecation in it even though he couldn’t catch a single word. “That’s what I’m asking. If you’re okay. Because I figured it can’t have been nice if it upset you that much.”

Meiri kicked some dirt half heartedly; since it was moist not a lot was achieved beside making a small concavity in the soil. When she spoke, it was with a quiet voice, not looking at him. The sound of the wind on tree leaves and birds leaving their nests to hunt graced the air around them.

“It was silly.” She muttered, lacking her usual self-assurance. “Someone said something at school and I got angry. You don’t have to be worried about it.”

His hum of acknowledgement was loaded with skepticism; the bell keeper didn’t think she’d believe it if he said that nothing that hurt her should be considered silly. Nor did he miss the way she carefully avoided giving any details about it.

“But you just said you’ve been feeling awful.” He pointed out, choosing to not pry any further into what exactly, had happened. If she ever wanted to talk about it, it should be on her own time. That didn’t mean he couldn’t push her to stand up for herself if the situation called for it. “If I can’t do anything to help, isn’t there anything you could? People don’t get to just treat you however they want, kid.”

The suggestion had the not truly surprising effect of making her huff annoyedly.

“I don’t care about it. Not anymore. I was angry then but I can handle it.”

You shouldn’t need to, he thought to himself, you shouldn’t have had to learn how.

“But–”

“I feel awful because of you.” She interrupted him, knowing it was going to be his next question. When he froze, breath caught in his throat, she lifted her eyes at him and blinked as she realized what that must have sounded like.

“Not like that!” She remedied pleadingly. “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this. I feel bad because I was mean to you. You didn’t do anything wrong–”

Her lips were curled; She might have been making an effort not to cry, but it was equally likely that the girl might be holding back a sneer at herself.

“I messed up anyway. And it made me feel… bad for it?”

Edmund nodded, breathing again after his worst fear of having been the cause of her distress had been nearly confirmed and then fallen flat once more.

“Guilty?” He suggested gently, and Meiri nodded.

“Guilty.”

Neither of them seemed to know what to say next. Edmund remembered a conversation they’d had, a long time ago, when she’d said she’d only ever apologized to people when someone forced her to. How many times had she already apologized since then, without anyone, not even him, ever asking it of her?

The girl seemed to remember the reason why she’d come all the way here with a backpack, and put it down on the ground in front of her, caring about it getting dirty about as much as Edmund had cared about his pants. At least it gave her something to do with her hands.

It was the only way she’d been able to think of to prove she was being honest.

The metal zipper of it was a bit rusted and got stuck in some places, but she was used to it and managed to get it open. Meiri felt her face warm up as she reached inside, feeling stupid and not knowing how her peace offering would be received. She knew he wouldn’t laugh at her. She was afraid of it anyway.

The girl took out the safest gift first, making the bell keeper raise both eyebrows in surprise when he was presented with a cucumber sandwich wrapped in plastic film. She didn’t dare lock her gaze with his, knowing the temptation to snap at him would be too big. Opening herself up always made a weird and unpleasant feeling settle on her belly. It made it harder to think when all she wanted was to hide.

Next came something she thought at length about whether she should have brought or not, and even now she considered keeping it hidden. It was stupid. But maybe stupid would be what it took to show she really was sorry. Edmund frowned, confused, when she offered him a woff plush that looked very clearly handsewn, the eyes asymmetrical and the tail floppy.

“What… are these?”

“They’re things you like.” She stated, resisting the urge to add an uncertain ‘right?’ at the end of her answer. She knew he liked those things. That was why she’d brought them. If he refused them, it wouldn’t be because they weren’t his jam. It would be because he was refusing her. “I made them for you.”

He took the woff in his free hand. The stuffing inside was bumpy, and there wasn’t nearly enough of it to keep the tissue from creasing. The stitches holding the facial details together all had different lengths. Edmund hadn’t really cried since he’d been a teenager. Yet he felt the sting of tears in his eyes now.

“Why?”

Meiri gulped, and bit her lip. She seemed to be waging an internal battle when she looked at him pointedly and said with a choked up voice.

“Because you’re always doing nice things for me.” The immeasurable effort she was making to force herself to be still and look at him while very deliberately stating that was palpable. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to, that he understood, but she had clearly practiced that. It was something she wanted to say, even if she’d avoided getting to that point. “You’re always letting me talk about the things I enjoy and… you teach me many interesting things too. You’re a good person. You are… the best person I know. And you talk to someone no one else wants to just because you’re kind. And I wanted to thank you for it. And to say that I’m sorry.”

Those last words were rung out of her throat hand in hand with a sob, and when she bowed her head down so he wouldn’t see it so plainly, Edmund was left no choice but to lean forward and hug her. It didn’t take half a second for her arms to be around him as well, grip impressively strong for someone so tiny.

He supposed all that climbing must have been worth something.

“It’s okay.” He cooed, rubbing her back as the Meiri allowed the tears to run freely, clinging to him like she was afraid he’d run away if she let go. “Firefly, it’s okay. I forgive you. I know we say things we don’t mean when we’re angry.”

She would have to learn how to not lash out, that was true. But at such a young age she was already holding herself accountable, maybe even more rigidly than she should, so forgive him if he wasn’t about to point out any of the things she could work on at that moment. Meiri whined into his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said then. I mean it now.”

“I know.” He began swaying them back and forth gently. “I know.”

They stayed like that until her crying subsided, until he realized the sun’s stronger rays were winning over the barrier of clouds and their own early-morning shyness, casting a silver glow over the treetops.

“If that happened again.” Meiri began, still reluctant to let go of his torso. “If that happened again, do you think you could still forgive me?”

It should have been a given, Edmund thought morosely. She shouldn’t have felt like she had to ask.

“I meant what I said. What you say when you're upset won’t stop me from caring about you. I promise.”

He heard her sniffle before drawing back slightly, just enough to look at his face properly.

“Then I think I can do it.”

Edmund blinked at the statement, put so boldly with her little shoulders set like she was bravely heading into battle.

“Do what?”

“Choose you.” His heart skipped a beat. He would have wondered if he was misinterpreting her, but for all she was doing to keep a cool facade she looked just as nervous as he felt. “If you’d still choose me.”

He would. For all the fear he felt, all the uncertainty, all the bumps he was sure there would be in this road, he found that he’d still choose her any time.

And he told her as much.

#please look up ‘bleeding tooth mushroom’ I swear it’s the coolest thing ever #meiridom #fic: fotw #my fic #hilda oc #the bell keeper hilda #meiri #meiri (oc)#the bell keeper fanfic #hilda the series fanfic

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rsmrymnt-tea · 2 years

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「 🐳 」

it takes some figuring out and a willingness to maybe be at least a little uncomfortable and very vulnerable.

even more confirmation that dolasach definitely fits the bill for “#1 satan appealer” and “#1 validator of whale anon's TEDthoughts” !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

i find that using multiple forms of symbolism to inspire character creation, especially if you take inspiration from animals, makes workshopping feel so much more effortless? too much of it can cause one to spiral and lose sight of who their oc is when they direct their focus molding them into the symbols rather than the other way around. like you, i think it's just so much more easier to let things be instead of forcing myself to fit a status quo.

tbh with you i didn't even mind that you didn't stick with the assignment of only explaining dola's feelings! as someone who is notorious for being able to shamelessly lore dump and engage in oc conversation up to 7 hours on and off it makes me feel a lot more relieved knowing that other people are willing to go above and beyond the assignment they were given 😭 (/pos).

although, this is also my weakness when it comes to sending in anonymous asks ;w;; i want to say so much but i must do it in a way where it's comprehensible and condensed instead of giving you 38924923 paragraphs, which i can only wish i could do.

and i mentioned this before (or maybe it's buried deep in the response im typing up atm..) but it warms my heart that there's also someone who has difficulty explaining their mc in brief terms!!

i often get stuck between “ah, so you only view my mc on a surface level despite all the information i've given you” and “this is a good conversation starter for someone who doesn't know my mc”. the other day i teased someone into telling me who they believe would be the most likely to be romantically paired with my mc, and i had such a visceral reaction to it that i didn't know whether to be offended or to outright laugh .. but i just?? couldn't blame them??? like yeah i get it on paper it seems like my mc would be romantically involved with simeon but holy shit she would not have a good time if that were that case KJNDFKFJS

the way i present her to people is based on what others have told me once they've gotten to know who she is from her youth up until her late twenties (and soon to be, accidental immortality that has been creeping up on her from before the story of the devildom began . . .), is something that i've come to realize really isn't the best course of action skfnkskjf so i'll be using you as my guinea pig i hope you don't mind 🙏

which is why i think it's taking so long for me to respond? i'm trying to present you all the important details in a condensed manner, but even then, it isn't enough (｡•́︿•̀｡) but i'm not one to give up i think it's pretty fun lolol [side eyes my two self-indulgent 40+k fics that are purely for her most important relationships]

back to our beautiful dolasach! the way mc is presented in-game sends sickening chills down my ribs and forms a tight knot in my stomach, so whenever i see issues rising between other mcs and the obm cast i get really giddy! it says so much about them, from how they choose to behave or respond, to how much they choose to say . . . aaa what a dream come true <3 and it's exceptionally rare to find a mc like yours and i mean that sincerely. it's not often you see an author dive into the ugly parts of a character and still make it not inherently beautiful, but rather make it feel bittersweet.

and i really adore how you mention immortality because a while ago i went on a “what does immortality mean for immortals but specifically solomon because i said so and not in the way where he grieves but in the way where his traits have over-ripened and his relationship to trauma has become over-developed” spiel and it reminded me of something i wrote so [gently hands you this]

Is this a flaw of immortality, that everything transient seems so frail by comparison, that you’ve lived so long you’re weighed down by the memory of everything that has passed before, that you find it impossible to just live, to let things be?

and after all of the posts i've stuck around for i don't believe i've pieced together what dolasach's goal would be? there is the situation of separating themself from the identity that is inherently attached to her parents, of becoming satisfied in general, of redemption for herself . . . hm! ＿〆(。。)

also i took a peek at your TEDthought of dolasach's name and all i can say is that hi hello that is a perfect parallel to satan who wishes to separate himself from lucifer and it also makes sense that she'd have another name for when she becomes immortal <33 a start of a new era, one that she will mold herself.

agsjsha Honestly I’d be disappointed in myself if Dola was suddenly not that compatible with Satan after making her just for him 😭

Big agree on having many places to pull inspiration from as something that makes workshopping easier, but not fully relying on them to shape a character. I like to think I take just enough to have some sort of loose guide for where I want Dola to be? Of course my process isn’t perfect since I tend to self-indulge often (like with me being adamant about Dola getting her immortality from Thirteen purely because the original Dolasach is a necromancer with a specialization of reaper) and I can’t really be sure that I’m keeping my own OC 100% in character all the time but you know. Real people aren’t 100% in character all the time either <-personal copium lol

I also think I tend to shift the canon characters’ personalities a little to make things a little easier and more entertaining for myself? But I will defend myself by saying that it’s not like game canon does a stellar job of keeping it’s own characters in character. And also I just take issue with some Choices™️ >.> ehem.

Anyway anyway >.> Semi-rant about game canon aside—

You 🤝🏼 Me -> not being able to keep things short. There is too much I want to say!! And when enabled and given the impression that someone gives a shit I will overdo it lmao >.> I also find that I figure things out better and faster when I’m using someone’s ask to rubber duck. Something about having to actually present my ideas to someone makes it easier to decide on what I want and where things should go, which tends to make my answers really long because I prefer to present everything in the form of actions, feelings, and thoughts more than simple description.

Personally, I don't actually like having to describe Dolasach in single, simple adjectives? Or any character, really, much like how I personally do not enjoy being asked to describe myself in five words during those stupid questionnaires and interviews for school and employment. I don't find it easy to find the right way to describe someone because I think people are too complex to simply leave it at a handful of adjectives, even more so when everyone's perception of a description can end up wildly varying.

So pls omg, don't worry too much about perfectly presenting every single thing about Godtongue to me in the span of one or two asks >.< I will inevitably misunderstand or miss something, which will just have you spend more time clearing things up—it may be better to show me small snippets at a time until I get a solid enough idea of them to work off of. It's impossible to truly condense someone into a few simple paragraphs when you know them insanely well due to having created them dfgkjh and I also don't want to frustrate you when there's things I don't get after you've gone through all the trouble of trying to figure out the perfect way to introduce more of her to me.

Because even then, I feel like because we don't think exactly alike, I'm not going to land on something truly to your satisfaction in just one or two exchanges. Literally every take I have on both Dola and the OM cast has taken a while to reach, and all the times people have told me I've been accurate with guessing what their OC/MC would be like have all been educated guesses that I'm shocked I've gotten right; I am fully expecting and also prepared to be told I'm wrong each time I post something about what someone thinks their character's relationship with Dola would be like tbh and I welcome that fully).

So like!! Don't worry about your response too much nonnie sdfhjkdg I'm not forcing you to rush, take your time; but know that I think that we'll get somewhere faster with getting to know the similarities and differences between Godtongue and Dola if we have a discussion? ;w; Especially if I'm going to be your guinea pig for trying out different way(s) of presenting her, because contrary to what a lot of people seem to think here, I'm not actually that smart when it comes to learning about a character >.>;;

Anyway uh, back to Dola?

I'm honestly so super flattered that you think all that sdhjkd Like it makes me feel like I'm doing something right with writing Dola, y'know? Because whenever I write her I tend to hope that I'm showing people someone very flawed and very human. There is plenty that she struggles with, and I don't want people to think that those struggles are in any way beautiful or to be romanticized. Bittersweet is a nice way to put it, yeah. I think there's something both wonderful and horrific about how she goes about trying to make the most of her life throughout the eras of it because honestly, I don't think she has any major long term goals beyond just trying to have a happy existence.

You mentioned not having pieced together what Dola's goal is, and I'm assuming you mean a long term overarching goal that bears some significance and influence to her actions overall.

The thing is, I think many of her goals fall into place throughout the course of her very long life. She does eventually find an identity separate from her parents both as a person and as an artist—something that becomes easily the more of her life she lives away from them (and also, well, spoilers but they die before she's 40 so she definitely outgrows them in many ways); she eventually becomes a sorcerer of high enough skill to stand alongside Solomon and even excels beyond him in certain fields; she eventually even comes to terms with accepting that allowing oneself to breathe will not undo all the work she's done. Like, she does reach points of satisfaction throughout her life, but it doesn't exactly take very long until there is something else that she wants, something else that grabs her attention and points her to direct her efforts and growth towards whatever it is.

But in immortality, I think she does eventually run out of things to aim for. I mean, the most impossible thing out of everything she wanted to achieve actually turns out to be possible—where does she go from there?

The lack of anything to aim for does eventually get to Dola. There are definitely times when she struggles, like really struggle, when it comes to dealing with her immortality. But she refuses to call for death and die. She knows there is nothing for her after death (or at least thinks it—I may or may not do something with the demon!Dola AU who knows) and still finds a lot of joy in simply living her life with her found family. There is still plenty to learn, plenty to discover.

In her crisis I think it occurs to her that perhaps she must imagine Sisyphus happy. And it's a strange change, but is enough to keep her sustained in between the times when there is nothing grand to chase.

(Of course, I think there is a goal of some form that she doesn't quite recognize in the form of a devotion to the one other human who understands what she's going through. Like, as much as it feels weird to admit on here, even though she and Satan have been through so much together and well, even though I made her for Satan, in the long run I think it's Solomon who becomes a source of major comfort that Satan just can't offer because immortality is inherent to him and his society. Solomon is human with a much greater capacity for empathy than Dola has, and has been through the some of the worst of immortality already all alone. And when humanity ends and the earth is consumed by what was once the sun, and the Devildom has offered asylum for the two, it just... Bonds them together in such a crazy way. Idk.

I mean, she still loves Satan with all her heart and the two have a special bond that is completely different from what she and Solomon have. But it's hard to deny the differences, and I can see the two tearfully discussing their feelings regarding it in private at some point far down the timeline of Dola's life. Btw I don't think the brothers + royals ever die unless killed. Because I said so.)

Ah, re: her name tho! I don't think it's ever an intentional choice for 'Dolasach' to become the only name she's known by over the years—it just happens. In my head half her family all go by similar single-word aliases when working, and some of them also choose to just introduce themselves as their art alias because they like the sound of it better. Fully think her father's side started the tradition with like, the great-grandmother and then the next generation, then the next, then until Dola and her cousins. I don't think there's any deep reason as to why she started introducing herself as Dolasach either cause I fully believe her father + his siblings all helped pick out possible aliases for her and her cousins to choose from at some point and she thought 'Dolasach' sounded best and started using it everywhere that didn't need her legal/birth name. From there it just stuck as she doesn't really see much difference between her as an artist + her as herself.

Is it weird? Kinda but idk, they're artists that's my their excuse lmao

(Before I end this very long answer, I like to think that this is where Satan and Dola's problems with their identity differ. I think Satan's stems from not wanting to be thought of as a mere fragment of Lucifer and a deep dread of any confirmation that that's all he is, that his efforts are inevitably pointless because his origin means that his life will always revolve around the fact that he was born from Lucifer's wrath; he will always be less, he will always be linked, he will always be questioning whether he is merely the part of Lucifer that loathes himself personified. Dola's issues stem from her knowing she is different and wishing so desperately that people would see and recognize that. That the fruits of her labor stop being attributed to being part of her family that she loathes and dismissed as something inherent to her bloodline. She's also sick of being seen and used as a gateway to accessing her older relatives because it makes her feel like no one gives a shit about what she does.

I guess in short, I think Satan's battle is more with himself because I honestly think he's likely already killed everyone who's so much as whispered about comparing him to Lucifer so mostly, the main voice left belittling him the most is his own (and sometimes the brothers I guess, who seem to endlessly favor Lucifer more despite Satan being considerably nicer and more active in helping them out on the day to day?); Dola's battle, least by the time she's in the Devildom, is more with everyone else, and that's why she was able to help Satan deal with his issues. She's already been through the whole 'am I just them but shitter/what is my inherent worth/who am I without them' ordeal and can help him to some extent, at least.)

#chat & colloquy #🐳 nonnie!!#dolasach #hsdjk very very long #but whatever i think we've established that we both are into long replies hsjkhdfkjghdkfgh

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another-fantasy-world · 4 years

Text

Strings Pt. 2

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Fem!OC

Summary: in which the true queen of vampires found love when she least expected.

Warnings: ...Light Angst? Slowburn and mentions of death,trauma and depression

Timeline: Breaking Dawn - Post-Twilight

Word count: 4, 200 words

!Extra long chapter!

GIF isn’t mine

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The witch couple somehow got Rosalie to agree to their terms, much to her distaste. She still doesn’t know what it is that irks her about the couple, she does not trust them, at all but, she trusts Carlisle. Plus, right now, they have more important matters to attend to.

Various thoughts run through Rosalie’s head, as she stands in the vast snow covered field. She may not show it, but she worries for her adoptive sister as Alice strides through the field handing Aro her hand for him to go through her thoughts and visions.

“Now you know. That’s your future, unless you decide on another course.” Alice states when Aro dropped her hand in shock

Rosalie stands rigid, observing silently as she glares and snarls at their “Royalty”, eyes pitch black. She knows in herself that she would do everything for her family, even if it costs her, her life. She stands there, watching as another hybrid walks into the field, she watches as they question him, She watches as Bella sags slightly in relief knowing that Renesmee is immortal and finally, she smiles knowing that they’ve won as the red-coated vampires blurs into the distance.

Joyous screams of victory rips through the air as she joins her family as they rejoice, happy that they did not have to fight the Volturi today. Together, they walk back to their house where their witnesses say their farewells and leaving.

“We won!” Maggie squeals are she rushed into Rosalie’s arms with Emmett trailing behind her

“Yeah, Yeah. Now I have to suffer an immortal life with the smell of wet dog wafting through the air.” Rosalie smirks

“Hey! I heard that!” Jacob complains

“Tsk. You were supposed to.” She retorts as she walks to Carlisle who was holding Esme in his arms.

But as she was walking, she was suddenly thrown into a void, cold, dark, and starry? She was confused as she looks around, panicking when she couldn’t move.

“What the fuck is going on?!” She tries to move her body but she couldn't, she then feels her body get thrown around like a rag doll.

“This is worse than being forced to ride that death machine. What was is called? Rollie? Roller coaster?” She grumbles in her head as she wills herself to not puke. She didn't even think vampires could still be nauseous.

That went on for what seemed to be hours before she was finally dropped into the ground. Opening her golden eyes, her orbs seemed to hyper focus on the gigantic trees and the creatures that live in it. Her ears then pick up the sound of groaning, turning her head, she sees the rest of her family sprawled all over the forest floor.

“Oh my God! Amore! You didn't have to paralyze them that hard!” Veronica thumps Amore in the head.

“I sincerely apologize for what she has done. We needed to take you far away from Forks, The Volturi Coven changed their minds and decided to ambush you and your witnesses. Fear not, your witnesses have been teleported to their homes safe and sound.” Veronica explains while still glaring at the pouting Amore.

“What was that anyways?” Edward groans as he sits up'

“Teleportation. I needed to paralyze you, that lowers the chance of you losing a limb.” Amore explains while Veronica cast a cloud of blue upon them, seemingly healing their “injuries”

“Cooooool. Can we do it again?” Emmett brightens like a child getting a puppy for the first time.

“No.” They all deadpanned at him making Veronica and Amore chuckle.

“Well, I suggest we get going now, even with our speed, it's still a long way to run.” Veronica dusts herself off as she and Amore help the family up and the still dazed shifters.

“Long way to run where?” Jacob asks, utterly confused.

“To the palace of course.” Veronica smiles

“It's high time you guys meet the Queen.” Amore smirks and winks as she speeds off, followed by Veronica then the Cullens and then the Black Pack.

Anastasia pinched her temples in pure stress, the Cullens were coming to visit and everything was in utter chaos. Mud was smeared all over the walls, broken dishes and glass cluttered the floor as little children run past her, screaming her ears off.

“Lance, darling. Clean this up before I rip someone's head off. Make sure this place is spotless before the guests arrive. Get the pups back to their mothers, the children back to the village and contact Maxine, there's a few shifters accompanying the Cullens. I'll be in my lab.” She orders her personal butler who scrambles around trying to get people to help him.

Anastasia ventures down, down until she reaches her own personal laboratory where she herself develops her own type of blood. She's repulsed by the thought of drinking from a clueless human no matter how annoying they are and disgusted at the thought of killing an innocent animal just so she could satiate her desire of drinking blood. And because of this artificial blood, her eyes slowly turn into the rich dark violet that it is now.

As she works, combining different substances and powders that vary colors, her mind drifts to a certain blonde girl. Anastasia for the life of her, cannot even think of what she would do where she faces the blonde beauty, not when her heart if filled with guilt.

1932 Rochester, New York

Anastasia roamed the streets as she keeps her eyes trained on the single glowing golden string attached to her, amongst the other colors. She was born this way, even when she was just a little human, she could always see strings. Of course her feeble mind at that time didn't understand what it was, but now she could. As a vampire, she practiced and willed her strings to be more color coded, since the mere chaos of tangled strings give her a headache. The strings connected each creature in this world, once you make an acquaintance, a blue string connects the two of you and that soon escalates into different colors, However, one color lets her see soulmates, and that's green, which is why she's now following this glowing gold string to wherever it may go. She was tempted to just yank the string as hard as she could and let the creature on the other side find her but somehow, something was holding her back.

As she walked the streets of New York, head held high, she also ignored the stares that she got while walking. She knew why of course, her Italian clothing much different from the posh American clothing everyone around her has, not to mention she was wearing clothes meant for “men” but she never was the one to abide to gender constructs. She also couldn't, for the life of her, think about what she would do when she meets the creature on the other end of the string. Should she kill it? Should she keep it? Should she protect it? Should she-

Her thoughts were then interrupted when her eyes suddenly tunnel visioned. There 'it' was, the 'creature' on the other end of her string, 'it' was actually a woman. An insanely attractive human, being fawned over by boys as she walks by and she was smiling at the small group girls crowding her. Anastasia could suddenly feel the emotions of the said woman: Happiness, Pride, and a little twinge of loneliness and sadness. Anastasia's heart (despite being half-dead) tightened in her chest, she wanted to do everything and anything to make the woman happy. She didn't even care that she just saw her mere minutes ago, she wanted her and only her. And that's when she realized, this woman, no, this angel was meant to be hers. But then again, Anastasia knew that the woman was too good for her, she doesn't deserve this life of pain and eternal suffering, seeing the people you once loved grow old and eventually die, yet she also knew that she cannot live without her, so she settled with being her protector.

“Mr. Lombardi? Did I pronounce that right?” Mr. Hale questioned her, she had managed to manipulate her looks to make her look like a man.

“Yes sir.” Anastasia answered, she named herself Gioele for the sake of her facade.

“And why should I let you protect my daughter?” Mr. Hale raised his eyebrows, staring at the 'guy' infront of him.

“With The Great Depression still happening, I believe your daughter might be in danger. You and your success may make you a target for those who are below you, poor unfortunate...” She trailed off, her moral compass preventing her from saying derogatory words but she knew she had to play by his personality and rules

“We do not talk about them.” Mr. Hale deadpanned

“Yes sir.” 'Gioele' agreed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Very well then. You have piqued my interest. One wrong move and you'll find yourself hanging on a rope by your neck.” He threatened just as someone entered.

“Father? Mother requested your presence.” Anastasia's eyes widen when she hears the soft, melodic voice right behind her.

“Rosalie! Perfect timing. This is Gioele Lombardi, he will be protecting you from those awful lowlifes scattered around the streets.” Mr. Hale introduces Anastasia to Rosalie who in turn looked at her.

“Rosalie. Rosalie Hale.” She introduces her self while Anastasia promply goes down on one knee and kisses her hand.

“My Pleasure.” She smiled, seeing the faint blush on Rosalie's cheeks.

Anastasia stood up, offering her arm to Rosalie who accepted and they both followed Mr. Hale outside, Anastasia holding up an umbrella to shield Rosalie and herself from the sun. She didn't sparkle as much as other vampires do but it would have been really suspicious when people see her faint sparkle as her marble like skin hits the rays of the sun.

And in that afternoon alone, Rosalie Hale became more popular, people talked about the attractive guard and of course Rosalie's beauty. Anastasia was annoyed at how people spoke about her and her mate, while they were walking around the city. Rosalie noticed and distracted her by asking her questions and answering questions directed to her as well.

Anastasia just felt herself fall even more as days pass by, She would sit by Rosalie's side while she reads her books, She would accompany her on walks and would help her pick flowers as well. She knew all about Rosalie but Rosalie only knew things Anastasia want her to, that doesn't include the fact that she's a woman and not a man and also the fact that she's an actual vampire. And that proved to be in her disadvantage later on.

A year pass by quickly with Anastasia enjoying every single second she spends with her soulmate, she could feel Rosalie radiating happiness whenever she's around, but of course, Rosalie was getting suspicious as well. It may be because of that one time where they were caught in the rain and their umbrella was much too small for 2 persons so Anastasia insist on Rosalie using it, leaving her wet, making her clothes stick to her body, and even under the dim light, Rosalie could make out a feminine body, toned but still feminine and that left her thinking if she truly knew her guard as well as she thought she did.

One day, Rosalie was sent on an errand to deliver her father's 'forgotten' lunch, and Anastasia knew it was a bunch of shit. She heard the couple discussing their plans to hopefully attract the attention of Royce King II and they succeeded, she had to watch as Rosalie and Royce flirt with each other, with her silently seething, forgotten. She had to hide her growls and snarls whenever flowers would be delivered at the Hale Household, but she couldn't do anything, Rosalie deserved someone who could grow old with her, and not a half-ling abomination like her. So she accepted the fate she wished upon herself and made the hardest decision of her life.

The day Rosalie was engaged, she packed her bags and set to leave but unfortunately, Rosalie caught her. And what she did that day, she still regrets up until now.

“Gioele? You are leaving.” Rosalie states, stunned.

“Don't. Don't stop me Ms. Hale. Or should I say Mrs. King?” Anastasia spat out, and she internally flinched when she saw the pain in Rosalie's eyes.

“Where did this come from Gio?” Gio, Rosalie's nickname for her alter ego. She couldn't handle it anymore and looked around before gently dragging Rosalie into an empty room in their house.

“Look, my name's not Gioele.” Anastasia removes the glamour she placed on herself and watched as Rosalie stare at her in shock.

“It's Anastasia. And yes. I am leaving. You are to be married to Royce King II and I cannot get in between that.” She stares at Rosalie's eyes, hoping to relay her feelings, but Rosalie was still much too hurt from her best friend lying to her.

“You lied. You broke two of your promises Lombardi. Is that even your real surname? It is not, is it? God. Why must I be so stupid! Go! Leave! Find some other woman to lie to!” Rosalie walks away from her

“Rosalie! Wait!” She tried to chase after her but Rosalie just turned around and slapped her, she was shocked, not only because the love of her life slapped her, it's also because Rosalie managed to crack the base of her neck. She lifted her hand to cover the cracks that were covering the base of her marble like neck.

“Rose...” She stared at Rosalie.

“Leave.” Rosalie glared, and Anastasia knew that this was her chance... to let go of her soulmate... in the most painful way possible.

“Fine...” She growled out “...I never liked you anyways, You self-centered, smug woman who only lives to please her father and the people around you. I hope you and your cold heart enjoy your loveless marriage!” She grabs her bags and walks away, not bothering to turn back, knowing that if she sees Rosalie's face and the raw emotions in her eyes, she'll just turn back and beg for forgiveness.

But of course, she couldn't stay away, no matter how hard she tried, she just can't so she lingered, hiding herself in the shadows, watching as Rosalie walked the paths they used to walk on, with Royce accompanying her, his arm hooked on hers as they chatted happily. It took everything in Anastasia to not rip off Royce's head whenever she knew he was making Rosalie uncomfortable and It took everything in her to not steal Rosalie away from him.

She was lingering around Vera's house, Rosalie was in there, cradling the baby boy in her arms as she cooed at him. Anastasia smiled as she saw her mate being all cute, she longed to have that with her, but alas she couldn't.

She was just enjoying herself when suddenly a body slammed into her, they fought for the upper hand as they kept tumbling around. Anastasia would straddle the man and he would flip her as well, she knew he was a vampire and didn't bother to pull her punches, cracking his marble like skin while he, in turn would also punch her face. The only difference they had was, Anastasia is actually bleeding. After what went on like hours, something snapped, Anastasia knew something was wrong with her mate so her eyes glowed a bright red, she threw the man off her and tied him with her strings. She growled at him before speeding off, following the slowly fading golden string. She ran as fast as she could, but she was too late.

“Rose?” she stared in horror as the body of her beloved, sprawled on the sidewalk, bleeding out.

“Stasia?” She turned her head and saw Carlisle standing behind her.

“Carlisle! I beg of you, Please save her. Turn her Carlisle please!” Anastasia begged Carlisle

“What happened? I smelt the blood.” Carlisle knelt beside the barely alive Rosalie.

“Turn her first then I'll explain.” Anastasia choked out as she closed her eyes just in time for Carlisle's teeth sinking into Rosalie's skin

She shook with anger and decided that she'll chase after whoever did this to her, her ears hyper focused, trying to find whoever did it. And that's when she heard it: Royce King II.

“I need to find a new fiancee now.” He laughed as his friends expressed their joy in letting them-

Anastasia let out a loud guttural growl as she prepared to speed away but Carlisle held her back.

“Don't. She needs you first.” Carlisle motioned to Rosalie who's writhing in pain. She immediately scooped her mate into her arms and followed Carlisle's mate string, which led her to a two floor house, she barged in with Carlisle hot on her heels.

“Lay her here.” He instructed the distressed Queen.

“Will she be okay Carlisle?” She asked the doctor as he kissed his mate in her forehead.

“Yes. Give it a couple of days, Your Highness.” Carlisle reassured her as she swallowed back her sobs.

“Very well. Uh. My apologies, I barged in without your permission. My name is Anastasia. You must be Carlisle's lover?” She offered her hand to the older woman who in turn just gave her a hug.

“It's fine. Really. You are welcome here. Carlisle told me all about you.” Esme smiled and Anastasia just smirked at Carlisle.

“Still thinking about me Cullen?” Anastasia teased, taking Rosalie's hand into hers and gripping it, calming her nerves.

“He talks about you everyday.” Esme smiled at her.

Anastasia was about to reply when the doors opened and in came...

“You.” Anastasia growled and lunged at the man. He dodged but she caught his arm and used her momentum to flip him over, throwing him through the wall and into the backyard, making him land flat on his back. The man coughed as Anastasia straddled him, planting her foot to the ground, her strings glowing a bright red as they wrap around him as she slowly ripped his head off.

“Anastasia! He's my son!” Carlisle cried out as Anastasia snapped at him, eyes widening in surprise.

“He's yours?” Anastasia's eyes glowed a bright red and Carlisle felt his entire body shiver.

“Y-Yes.” Carlisle stuttered, the murderous aura surrounding Anastasia triggering his fight or flight.

“He is the reason why I didn't get to my mate fast enough. He lunged at me for no reason, leaving my mate in a vulnerable position AND LOOK WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW! SHE'S FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE CARLISLE!” Anastasia's body shook in anger

Carlisle could see the cracks growing on Edward's skin, and he slowly approached the furious queen. He managed to calm Anastasia down by sending calming waves into his strings, decades of working alongside the queen was proven to be useful in this moment. The ropes that were once wrapped around Edward slowly loosened until they retreated back into her body.

Edward wheezed as he moved away from her while Anastasia composed herself.

“Teach your son better manner s, Carlisle or the next time we meet, you'll see his decapitated head decorating the Volturi Walls.” Anastasia threatened as she walks calmly back into the house through the wall that she made and sat beside her unconscious mate. She noticed the golden string slowly go back to it's natural glow, which made her sigh in relief.

A couple of hours pass by and Anastasia was feeling hungry, she asked for Carlisle's help in looking for food in the forest and he told her where the majority of the animals lived and she set off. While she was hunting, she couldn't help but feel like she failed Rosalie. She let her become something that she protected her from. A Vampire.

Once she had her fill, she slowly walked back to where Carlisle lives, delaying her arrival as much as possible, dreading the fact that she knew Rosalie was awake. She could feel it. She took a deep breath and opened the door, making everyone's head snap towards her. Her eyes caught Rosalie's and instantly, they connected, more so than before, which means that Anastasia feels what Rosalie feels 100 times more than before. Pain, Sadness, Longing and Hatred. And that's when she knew, she knew that Rosalie hated her. Her soulmate hated her. The thought weighed on top of her, slowly crushing her heart, she physically gasped for breath as she could feel Rosalie's anger increased tenfold.

“Rose. Let me-”

“Don't Anastasia. Do what you do best, leave.” Rosalie answered her, putting emphasis on her real name. She tried to move closer but Rosalie only moved and sped out of the house, with Carlisle trailing after the newborn.

She was about to follow as well when Edward stopped her.

“I apologize for my actions earlier, I truly believed that you were preying on them, that's why I attacked you, but you should really trust me when I say that you shouldn't follow her. She's angry.” Edward quickly explained

“And how do you know that?” She asked.

“I can read minds.” Edward simply states, nodding at her.

Anastasia nodded, defeated and sat on a chair with Esme right beside her.

“Give her some time.” Esme advises, rubbing the girl's back.

She gritted her teeth when she felt Rosalie's pain. Not physical, emotional. And she has the power to take it away. But with a great price. A price she was willing to take.

When the Cullen family was complete, with Rosalie, Anastasia quickly worked her gift. Wrapping her strings around them and re-writing their memories, without her in it. Except for Carlisle's, she left some memories of him working alongside her while in the Volturi. Once she finished, she quickly speeds away and forces herself to leave the memories and pain she just took into the back of her mind as she wiped her bleeding nose, her body collapsing under a big tree due to the exhaustion.

She was pulled back into reality when the beaker she was holding in her hand exploded, drenching her in artificial blood. She gritted her teeth, there were two things that could've happened. One, she mixed the wrong chemicals while day dreaming or two, Amore decided to switch the labels again.

She checked everything, and then found out the second one was the truth, she stormed out of her lab, blood dripping from every inch of her body. Her annoyance clouded her brain, forgetting that she sent Amore to pick up the Cullens and if she was here, then so were The Cullens.

She spotted Amore from afar and sped towards her, slamming her against the brick walls of her “castle” . She hated that term.

“What did I tell you about switching my labels Lewis?! Look at me! Blood is in every crevice in my body! There's blood in parts that I didn't even knew were exposed!” She growled out

“Well, to be f-fair, You aren't wearing your usual lab attire so that's partially your fault.” Amore choked out. Anastasia just growls in response.

“Stasia, calm yourself. First impressions are important.” Veronica waves her hand and Anastasia's clothes were back to normal, dry and there was no trace of blood anywhere.

First Impressions? Anastasia then mentally facepalmed herself. She had forgotten the Cullen Family. She releases Amore, then turned to the family, recalling her speech, she started to talk.

“Hello. Sorry you had to see that, but you should really get used to it. My name is Anastasia...” She drifted off as her violet orbs met golden ones. In her brief moment of surprise, she unknowingly let down her guard, causing her previously cast spell break. She knew that her mate would be there and she mentally prepared herself but turns out, she wasn’t prepared at all. When she recovered from her shock, she could feel that her spell had been broken. The entire coven looked at her with various emotions: Happiness, Confusion, Longing and Familiarity. She may or may not have met all the members before and also wiped their memories.

“Gio...” Rosalie whispered.

“Shit...” Anastasia cursed, she somehow knew this would happen, just not this soon.

“Rose...” She stared at her mate for what seemed like years before Rosalie glared at her with so much anger she didn't know it was possible, and stormed off. Again.

'She always does that.' Anastasia sighs.

“Well, that secret's out. I'll escort you to you ro-”

“We'll do it. Chase after her.” Veronica pats her back before escorting the Family to their respective chambers, but Carlisle stayed behind.

“That... was messed up Anastasiarine.” Carlisle expressed his disappointment before pulling the girl in a brief hug.

“I missed you too Cullen.” She whispered before letting go to chase after her mate.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me.” She sent that thought to the Cullen Family, including Rosalie and went back to what she did 75 years ago.

She was once again, chasing the glowing gold string.

#rosalie hale #rosalie hale x oc #jasper hale x alice cullen #edward cullen x bella swan #carlisle x esme #olympic coven #cullen clan #the cullens #cullen family #the volturi #rosalie cullen #rosalie hale x fem oc #platonic carlisle x oc #The Cullens x OC #The Volturi x OC #rosalie twilight #rosalie #rosalie hale x reader #rosalie lillian hale

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.

Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.

When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…

"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."

Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.

"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."

"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.

What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.

"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."

All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.

"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."

The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.

No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.

With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.

"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."

His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.

He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.

Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.

It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.

He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.

"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"

"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.

"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"

Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.

"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"

The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.

"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"

"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."

"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."

"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."

… … …

Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.

But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.

"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…

"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."

"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."

"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."

That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.

"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."

"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"

The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.

"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.

"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."

Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.

"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.

This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...

"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.

"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"

"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"

With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.

Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.

That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.

For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.

"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.

"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.

"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"

Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"

The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.

"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."

A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.

"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.

"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.

______________________________

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titanharem · 3 years

Note

I shall give you many hc's because no one ever asks and so I'm unloading all of this on you

Fireteam Joker (affectionately named so because Cayde made a passing joke and they loved the name) live in a townhouse together outside the city.

They have a mini farm full of animals, mainly Donkeys! My Exo Hunter Beta-1 likes to feed and hang out with the birds, Human Titan Angelo does all the farming, and my Awoken Warlock Asterine, who Angelo is married too, does the heavy lifting!

Beta is an Arcstrider, and is actually the only one with Sense, but has the most amount of trauma! Turns out, there's a reason she's only reset once! She learned why.

Angelo, a user of Burning Maul, was raised by his Ghost and sees them as his Mother, and so do they. It's very cute, not so much when you're trying go kiss your wife and your Ghost gets between you two.

Most think Asterine, the Nova Bomber, is a Titan because she can carry up to 300 lbs! (SheCan'tHerGhostJustHealsHerBonesTendonsAndMusclesTheMomentTheyGetHurtNoOneTellHerShePicksUpAngeloSoMuchAndTheyBothLoveIt)

They are all Cowboys. I will not explain.

Angelo and Asterine have twins! They hope they'll be gifted with Ghost, but doubt it sincerely. They just hope that their children will be old when they become orphaned, rather then bear with the pain of outliving their babies.

Enjoy the trio! I love them and am happy to finally share some stuff about them!

Wait no, I'm going to cry, I love them all? I love the idea of a fireteam living together, it scratches the "found family trope" part of my brain. And I refuse to ever think about Angel and Asterine dying, or their twins living out their lives and dying. Both are bad and make me sad (and I love it-)

Honestly, shoutout to the leaders/Common Sense Guardians having the most trauma. For example, Dusk-4 was more or less the "leader" of her little fireteam, and then she stepped up to be the Hunter Vanguard after Cayde's death. The majority of her trauma is from Red War and Cayde dying (and the subsequent revenge-warpath she went on), but it still counts. She mostly took on being the Hunter Vanguard because in her guilty, grieving brain, it was "well, whoever killed Cayde would be Vanguard, and I didn't save him in time, so that counts."

I would commit so many warcrimes for Angelo and his Ghost-Mom so much, that dynamic makes me so soft. Also, I have a very clear image in my head of a Ghost just flying full speed to get between two Guardians, with the closest approximation of having “angry eyes,” I just need you to know that. Anyways, Cygnus’ old Ghost*, Lyra, could probably be considered a mom friend, mostly because she’s the one who held the braincell all the time. Cygnus would do something stupid (”test his limits” via jumping gaps, or wading through radiolaria, etc), and Lyra would yell at him the whole time because what was he even thinking? *Unfortunately, Lyra was killed by Vex, so for a long time, Cygnus was Ghostless. He eventually gets another Ghost who stopped reviving their “Guardian” when the Light returns in Red War

Don’t talk to me, I’m only thinking about Asterine attempting things like that, and people thinking she’s a Titan, when really it’s just poor planning on her part, and a Ghost who looks out for her bones. Genesis-2 is also a Warlock who could, potentially, be considered a Titan, only because she’s most likely to get into melee range with a sword, and possibly a solar-Light powered punch. She’s also picked up a Sunbreaker Titan’s (*cough* Lord Radegast *cough*) hammer at least once- it was a spur of the moment, worried-for-friends thing.

Okay, think I answered to everything, and again, I love your trio. Always feel free to ramble about your OCs in my askbox

#destiny #destiny 2 #Other people's OCs #jack answers #stupid-gremlin-hunter #oc: dusk #oc: cygnus pol #ghost: lyra #oc: genesis #phew #sorry if there's any typos #i've never edited my responses or writing #and i don't intend to start #altho sorry for the length perhaps #lore trade

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bondsmagii · 4 years

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Tell us about your OC [Redacted], how big of a bastard are they?

I’m just gonna use this as an excuse to introduce a bunch of my OCs using the highly scientific Bastard Rating System:

1/5: traces of bastardry2/5: traces of bastardry with selected examples of Extreme Bastardry3/5: many examples of Extreme Bastardry, but with Good or at least Necessary Reason; one or two moments of Just Plain Bastardry4/5: Just Plain Bastardry, with elements of Intentional Sadistic Bastardry5/5: King Bastard of Bastard Mountain, Let All Those Who Bear Witness Feast Upon His Bastardous Doctrine

so, with that in mind…

OC Bastardry Levels:

Zekiel Tozyehr: Shades of Magic OC for an Extensive AU of mine, Last Antari in Black London™, goin thru it, delightful accent, reads a lot, has spent a good portion of his life wishing Osaron would leave him alone, Bites Off More Than He Can Chew, definitely a badass and definitely doesn’t realise it until long after everybody else, did not see another human for two decades and therefore any interaction is bound to be wild. bastard rating: 3/5 (doesn’t seem fitting? you’ll see)

***

Yakov [yet to be last-named]: revolutionary for a good cause, does nasty deeds in name of said revolution, loves his wife, likes to stare at nature, Angsts over said deeds, sexy scars, many believe him to be the craziest motherfucker to walk Siberia since Rasputin, enjoys a good sunset. bastard rating: 3/5

Anatoly Roslyakov: one of Yakov’s second-in-commands, also a revolutionary for a good cause, Gets His Hands Dirty So You Don’t Have To, has literally no bad feelings over it whatsoever, is well aware that he’s like that as a person so takes one for the team, most reviled member of the squad but gives good honest no-nonsense advice, good husband, great dad, too smart for his own good. bastard rating: 4/5

Anastasia [yet to be last-named]: the other of Yakov’s second-in-commands, Mad Lad, absolute nutcase, 4′11 goblin, WILL use your assumption that her height renders her harmless to headbutt you in the kidneys, bisexual icon, loves her grandma, will kill a man if necessary but doesn’t feel the Rush Of The Kill, likes to play piano and sing maudlin songs at parties, if you Soviet historians out there think she sounds familiar it’s because she’s his great-granddaughter. bastard rating: 3/5

Nadezhda Sharonova: Literature Bitch™, absolutely the only person in this group with brain cells, God She Puts Up With A Lot, ends up way out of her depth but comes out swinging, A Bitch Has Anxiety, good poetry will make her cry, if you debate her she’ll probably put a pencil behind her ear and then point her newly free hand at you and you know you’re dead, very against murder but shit gets wild sometimes. bastard rating: rare non-bastard

***

Percival “Percy” Mulholland: decadence & aesthetic baby, wears Gucci, billionaire at like age 20 but is cool about it, can and will fly all his friends to some fancy location to stay on his fucking yacht, thirty-seventh in line to the British throne, so full of love probably against his best interests, Thot, Part-Time Himbo, nerd, Has A Lot Of Demons, will always be found lounging on a piece of furniture with wine. bastard rating: 3/5

Reuben Sjöberg: as a 6′7 albino person who always wears white he is well aware of the fact he’s probably the most interesting person you’ll ever see, Has A Dreadful Secret, too manipulative for his own good, Sounds Good In Theory But Wait What The Fuck Reuben, terrible ideas abound, Source Of All Trouble, Swedish but speaks better English than anyone in the group. bastard rating: 4/5

Adrian Urquhart: small, gay, will fight you through tears, knows all the gossip at all times, pretty much knows everything about everything, might not tell you until it’s too late, Heretic Catholic™, Spite is a Good Motivator, needs a nap, could probably benefit from a little more backbone, Crouching Introvert Hidden Thot. bastard rating: 2/5

Charlotte Brown: very pretty and very unassuming, knows it, dresses like she wandered out of the fae realm, seems dreamy and distant but never misses a single fucking beat, if she can’t smooth an argument out nobody can, Theatre Bitch™, when at parties she’s lowkey always looking for an excuse to throw her drink over somebody in outrage. bastard rating: 2/5

Niamh Connolly: from Belfast and will not soften her accent for the sake of the poor posh bitches around her, here to cause A Ruckus™, punk lesbian icon who absolutely has punched a Nazi, very strong morals that cause a lot of trouble down the line, probably the only person in the group who’se not a fucking nutcase, very outspoken, letting her drive is not recommended. bastard rating: 2/5

***

Aidan Mirza: Dumbass Narrator™, very gay, grew up constantly wishing for an adventure and boy did he get it, Supernatural Abilities [wiggles fingers while saying ‘OoOoOoOhhh’], too loyal for his own good, I Just Hate This Town Yanno?, lives with A Lot, calm on the outside screaming on the inside, means well but what the fuck. bastard rating: 2/5

Vertigo “Tigo” Havlíček: green hair don’t care, named after a literal carnival ride and not even mad about it, heir to a cursed funfair and is a bit mad about that, Even More Supernatural Abilities, sees too much, Am I The Only Person Going To Do Anything Around Here?, may be responsible for dozens of deaths but he can explain he swears, probably could do with admitting there’s a problem sooner. bastard rating: 3/5

***

Cameron Torrance: anger issues out the ass, disgruntled night shift cashier, alcoholic, Me? Traumatised? Ha!, serious violent PTSD that he will NOT acknowledge, murderer (self-defence), murderer (dealing with some things), You Ever Just Look Around And Think ‘This Might As Well Happen?’, very fucked up confused and oftentimes rancid morals, probably survives by remembering he’s not as bad as Jasper. bastard rating: 4/5

Jasper Tuozzo: runs a deep web murder room, lives to torment the shit out of Cameron, night shift milk delivery driver with a great discomfort of driving at night, smokes like a chimney and will bum cigarettes whenever he can, murderer (because it’s fun), nasty trauma in childhood but sincerely not enough to explain this, hasn’t given a fuck about anything since 1987. bastard rating: 5/5

Francis “Frankie” Morrison: university student, tired, very cute, gets excited if asked to accompany someone on errands, somehow Cameron’s boyfriend and somehow loves him dearly, worries a lot, far too innocent for his own good, cooks for people, hilarious bastard, god knows what he’s doing with these other two freaks. bastard rating: rare non-bastard

#[clears throat]#zekiel tozyehr #yakov #anatoly roslyakov #anastasia #nadezhda sharonova #percy mulholland #reuben sjoberg #adrian urquhart #charlotte brown #niamh connolly #aidan mirza #tigo havlicek #cameron torrance #jasper tuozzo #frankie morrison #ocs #anon #asks

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transdonaldduck · 5 years

Text

Parenting 101

Fandom: Ducktales 2017 Authors note: OC-centric, some backstory for Nancy and Donalds friendship! Word count: 3000 ish

Summary: Nancy Pluckley meets Donald Duck at the community center, in room 5B, during a free parenting seminar. Things get better.

Her car is a cobbled together pickup truck her grandpa gave her two years before she turned sixteen and one year before he passed away in his sleep. There’s duct tape holding on the bumper from where she knicked the wall at the mcdonalds drive through and there’s so many stickers slapped on the back it might as well be considered a driving hazard for those behind her. She’d had it for four years now, though, and she never wanted to give it up, even as it whines and sputters and groans and attracts all sorts of attention as she pulls into the nice and tidy beige building in front of her.

Here’s the thing about your parents dying suddenly and unexpectedly in a boating accident: no one really tells you how to raise the toddler they left behind. Yes, you may love her and you may want to do anything for her, but there’s no field guide to deal with trauma and grief and a 3 year old who still asks when mommy is coming to pick her up. So sometimes you have to scour the library for parenting books and look through you moms phone to find her pediatrician and even pull up to the community center in a beat up old truck you don't want to part with but know you have to because the car-seat won't fit in it properly to take a parenting class you desperately need. No one told you to do it, but you have to anyway.

She grabs the flyer from her glovebox, scanning the paper again to compare the time and date just to be sure she hadn’t gotten anything mixed up despite the fact that she’d tripled checked already before she hops out of her car. She feels almost ridiculously young, trailing into the room after couples holding hands and smiling all soft and pretty like at each other, probably all in their mid to early 20s, looking eager and prepared. None of them are carrying a college-ruled notebook or a pencil, she notes with slight embarrassment, shuffling her old school supplies under her arm. There's different tables set up around the room, a lot of the young couples are already hogging the front seats and Nancy can’t blame them for that, if she’d gotten here earlier she might have snagged one of those herself. Or any seat at all, since it seems she’d straggled so much she was left with slim pickings, hurrying to a seat near the back she practically fell into the chair, slapping her notebook in front of her and checking her phone the moment she could dig it out of her bag.

No notifications, which meant Evie was behaving so far. Evie- Evelyn- was her little sister, and Nancy had bartered with her coworker Amanda to babysit while she took this class. She’d cover her shift on Saturday morning in exchange for her looking after Evie for the night. Amanda didn’t usually ask for a favor in return for babysitting, but Nancy always liked to offer since Amanda and her wife both worked such different schedules, and if Nancy covered her shift this saturday it meant she and her wife would have some quality time together with their own child. Evie could be a handful sometimes, and Amanda had instructions to call if she got too much and Nancy would come pick her up- so no notifications was a good sign. Hopefully.

She jumps about a foot in the air when the man next to her says something- she can’t really understand it, smiling at him nervously as she tries to decipher what he just said.

He must read it on her face because she offers her a tired smile and clears his throat, obviously taking extra time to try and enunciate, “Is this your first class?”

“Oh! Oh, um, yes.” She nods, smoothing down invisible imperfections on her notebook with an awkward laugh.

He’s an older gentleman, maybe early thirties or late twenties at the youngest, his head feathers are cut short and choppy as if he’d done it himself, and he’s got a kind looking face- and he looks tired, bags underneath his eyes, and even his smile seems thin and weary around the edges, but there’s this brightness in his eyes that Nancy almost envies. He looks worn out but happy, almost. A single father? “You seemed nervous, is all.” He explains, “Are you expecting?”

“Ah, no,” She shakes her head and feels her bun bobble with her, “It’s- My parents-” She sighs, “I was kinda… thrown into this whole... parenting thing. I’m taking care of my little sister, she’s 3.”

He nods as if things like this happen all the time, “I know the feeling, after my sister passed I took in her kids, they’re triplets- oh!” He fumbles through his pockets, pulling out his phone to show her pictures, “They’re 7 now, about to be 8. Huey, Dewey, and Louie.” He points to them each individually. It’s a class photo, the other children cropped out so it’s only his 3 kids all smiling at the camera and color coded red, blue, and green.

She slides her phone over to him and shows him her lock screen, “This is my sister, Evelyn. This photo is from a year ago when I took her to the state fair so it’s kind of old, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“She’s so small!” he coos, “I remember when the boys were that small! She’s 3 now, you said? You must have your hands full with a toddler.”

Sliding her phone back she shrugs, “I haven’t been taking care of her for very long, I guess I haven’t had the full experience yet. She still thinks this is a long sleepover and that our parents will come pick her up soon.”

His eyes soften, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He’s startlingly sincere, and she blinks at him before realizing she needs to respond, “Thank you, uh..?” she realizes halfway through she’d never caught his name.

“Donald Duck.” He introduces, “And you are?”

“Nancy Pluckley, It was nice meeting you.” with the conversation coming to a natural close, Nancy fiddles with her notebook, and checks her phone again. The instructor seemed to be running late.

“So…” She starts and he turns to look at her, “We’re in kinda the same boat. How long have you been taking care of your nephews?”

“Since before they hatched,” It looks like it hurts him to think about and Nancy immediately regrets asking.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” She rushes out, tucking loose hair behind the edge of her beak, “I’ve just never had someone who… gets it.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. It still hurts but I’ve mostly moved past it.” He smiled encouragingly at her, “Did you have anything you wanted to ask? I’ve gone through it all three times over.”

She spits it out before she can think twice, “Does it get better?”

“Oh, Nancy.” He says immediately, wincing at her and she drops her eyes to the table, suddenly very interested in the vulgar words scratched into the surface. She hears him take a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and then- “Yes, it gets better.” She jerks up, looking at him with wide eyes, “And that kind of sucks, And then it gets better again.” He admits.

Frowning, her eyebrows knitted together and she flattens her hands on the table, “What?”

“For me the hardest part… well, the grief was hard. Convincing myself to let go of the hope she would come back was harder, but I did it, and I raised her children even though it kind of felt like I wasn’t enough- and it was better… and then realizing I was doing an alright job… I’d replaced their mother, and that sucked.” it’s his turn to look down at the table, “and then it got better.” He says simply.

“But what if it never gets better? What If I feel like i’m not enough because it’s true?” She says miserably, running a palm through her hair.

Donald shrugs a little bit, leaning back in his chair, “Well… At least you’re there.”

She jolts, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I know, It’s kind of dark,” he says uneasily, “But take solace in the fact that you’re there, and that your sister has someone taking care of her who loves her with all her heart. You’re going to make mistakes, everyone does, but as long as you love her and do your best to raise her… she’ll turn out alright.”

“Also, if you can afford it, some therapy to deal with your grief in a healthy way will do wonders for your parenting.” He tacks on.

Dutifully, Nancy flips open the notebook and jots that down- he snorts out a startled chuckle and reaches over and takes the pen from her hand, scrawling his phone number in the margins of her paper, “text me if you need anything, Nancy. Maybe we can get the kids together for a play date! I’ll tell Louie not to involve Evelyn in any scams.”

Nancy huffs out a laugh, “I’d appreciate that.”

The instructor sweeps in right about then, tossing out apologies for her tardiness before the class starts in full swing. Nancy feels a little less silly about her notebook when she catches Donald making his own notes in his phone. The time seems to fly by and before she knows it, they’re being dismissed- it had been an informative class, and now she has a better grasp on the upcoming developmental milestones Evie was going to be hitting soon. She knew what to expect, and that was going to make all the difference- and Amanda hadn’t called about Evie all night, which meant she was being very good!

Nancy gathers up her things and bids a quick goodbye to Donald, eager to go pick up her sister- but when she goes to crank her car, there’s no roaring hum that lets her know her rust bucket is even trying to turn over. She tries a few more times, even lifts the hood to check out the engine with her limited knowledge- but it just looks like the whole thing has gone kaput.

Amanda's car was in the shop which meant she couldn’t come pick her up, and all her other friends couldn’t babysit because they were busy tonight… which meant she was stranded.

Unless…?

She flips open her notebook at stares at the number, hesitant to call. He’d seemed nice enough during class, but what kind of guy gives a girl half his age his number within 5 minutes of meeting her? It was getting dark fast, and Nancy decided she was willing to take the risk. It’s not like it would be any more dangerous than walking home, right? And he might not even say yes anyway.

She puts the number into her phone and, after one last moment of deliberation, calls him.

“Hello?” His voice isn’t easier to understand over the phone, but she’s used to it by this point.

“Hey, is this Donald? This is Nancy, from the parenting class.” She stalls, scuffing her flats on the asphalt, “Um, what’s up? Are you doing anything tonight?”

There’s a bewildered pause from his side, “Nancy, um, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not… you’re a teenager and I'm way too old- I don’t like you like that. You’re not my. type.” he says awkwardly, obviously struggling to word it so he doesn’t hurt her feelings.

She slaps a hand over her face, flushing from embarrassment- well, at least now she could be relatively confident he wasn’t a creep, “No! No- My car won’t start, and if it… wasn’t a huge imposition, I was wondering if I could have a ride? Just to my friends house, it’s not far at all!”

There’s another long pause, “...I don’t really know you all that well.” He says hesitantly.

“Yeah… that’s, um, fair.” She leans back against her truck and blows out a breath, “I’m sorry to bother you, I’ll just walk.”

“At this time of night?” He balks and she can hear the sound of his turn signal.

“Yeah, well, I can’t afford a cab.”

“I’ll come pick you up.” he tells her, “I’m only a minute or two away.”

She looks around in the dark, “I think I'm the only one still here, you’ll be able to see me.”

“Stay on the phone with me until I get there?”

Nodding, she gets back into her truck, “Yeah, thank you, I was starting to get a little nervous.”

“And you were going to walk…” He chides and sounds so much like a dad it makes her a little upset it’s not her dad on the other side.

The station wagon he pulls up in is almost as beat up as her truck, and it’s got wood panelling on the side that actually makes her snort at how dated it looks. It’s a bit dinged up as if he’s been on the wrong side of several fender benders and there’s obviously been some work done on the drivers side door, two slightly different colored ugly teal paints layered over each other in a patchwork paint job. He hangs up as she opens the drivers side door and shakes his head, holding his hand out to stop her.

“Go take a picture of my license plate and send it to your friend.”

“What?” She says blankly, not following.

“Everytime you get into a car with a stranger- and please let this be a one off sort of deal, alright?- take a picture of their license plate and send it to someone you trust. It’s a safety precaution.”

She does as she’s told, snapping a picture of it and sending it to Amanda with a quick text explanation before rounding her way back to the passenger seat, “Is there… a reason I needed to do that..?” She asks.

He shrugs a little, waiting for her to get in, “It’s a good habit to get in, it’s something I tell everyone to do if it's there first time riding with me.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been kidnapped a few times.” He says it as if he’s telling her about the weather, “doing that would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

She stares at his with big eyes before all the pieces suddenly fall into place, “Oh.” She breathes, “You’re that Donald Duck.”

Immediately he looks uncomfortable, shoulders hunching, and his eyes cut sharply to the road, looking straight ahead, “...Yeah. That Donald Duck…”

She gets in, strapping her seatbelt and wisely drops the topic, “So Amanda's address is-”

There's a long silence, broken only by his GPS barking out directions.

“Sorry about everything that happened to you.” She finally bursts out, quickly hiding the fact that she’d just been scrolling through his wikipedia page. He smiles a little but it doesn’t reach his eyes and he offers her a small nod, “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you even at that parenting seminar? Can’t you just afford to take an actual class?”

“You didn’t get very far on the personal life section of my wiki, did you?” she blanches, rubbing a hand through her hair, “I was disowned by my Uncle after my sister disappeared, we’ve been estranged ever since and I haven't seen him since the accident. I’ve been cut off from any financial aid from him.” he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, “I’ve been doing fine on my own, for the most part- I had a good amount of savings and I usually have a job. Baby sitters are costing me a fortune though.”

Nancy groans in solidarity, “Tell me about it! Sometimes my friends will watch her, but when everyones busy and I need to work I have to get a babysitter too.”

“Here’s some advice- when she’s old enough, sign her up for junior woodchucks. They’ll usually have an after school program that runs that’ll give you some time to finish up your shift or go shopping before you need to pick her up. There are also older kids trying to earn their caretaker badges- screen them and you’re good to go on a free babysitter for the night.”

“You’re like a wizard.” She admires, crossing her arms.

He rolls his eyes, “Please don’t say that within earshot of my Uncle.”

“What’s he got against wizards?”

“Everything.” Donald says, pulling up at the curb to Amanda's house, “Here we are.”

She nods a little bit, “Listen, um, thank you, Donald. I was in a tight spot back there. If you ever need something, I owe you one.”

He waved her off before she even finishes her sentence, “Not necessary,” He dismisses her offer simply, “I know how it is. You still have my number, right? You Can call if you ever need anything.”

“Yeah… just. Thanks again.” She gets out then, closing the door behind her and backing away. She waves at him a little bit before she finally turns around and heads inside.

Evie screams her name the moment she opens the door and then dive-bombs off the couch and into her arms. Nancy laughs and thanks her quick reflexes that she didn’t drop her, swinging her around a little bit.

“Glad you’re not murdered.” Amanda laughs a little bit, putting down her book, “How’d it go? Is he cute?”

“Ew, he’s like, 40.” Nancy giggles, carrying Evie to the couch, “And he wasn’t a weirdo, either.” She tosses her onto the cushions, “Why don’t you go get your stuff ready, boog? Miss Janie will be home soon and then Miss Amanda will be able to take us home.”

“Don’t say ew! I’m 40 and I am not ‘ew!’” Amanda admonishes as Evie runs off.

Nancy isn’t sure why she doesn’t divulge Donalds true identity, it just seems… rude to tell. Regardless, she’s pretty sure she might actually take him up on his offer to set up a play date between Evie and the triplets. It was nice talking with someone who really understands her situation.

And if she can wring some single-parent advice from him, well, she’ll take what she can get.

#donald duck #ducktales oc #nancy pluckley #evie pluckley #my writing

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mysticsparklewings · 4 years

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Blue Java Bananya

Well here's something I wasn't planning on making at all! This year certainly started off with a bang!, and not a good one, what with my drawing tablet going kaput on me. But at the very least, thanks to my brother I have a temporary solution. He was able to get his hands on a Surface Pro 3 through work, and after acquiring a stylus I've been working on adapting to it for the time being. It's taking a lot of getting used to, but I'd rather have to get used to this than have nothing at all until next century when I can afford a more proper replacement. Anyway. That whole fiasco just depressed and stressed me out to no end, among other life things. For my birthday, I was gifted a DVD of Bananya, a show about, you guessed it--banana cats like the one I've drawn here. I watched the whole thing (about 40 minutes, the episodes are pretty short) in one sitting, and for that time I was able to forget about everything that was worrying me and just enjoy some cute fruit kitties and simple fun. No over-the-top, save-the-world plot, no complicated character dynamics, no overcoming past trauma, just fun and cute. I knew about Bananya for a while, as a couple of years ago I got my hands on a couple of plushies before I even knew the show existed; I just thought the concept of cat-bananas with velcro peels was adorable. It was only later when I was wondering where they originated from that I found out there was a show, and subsequently that the only way to watch the English dub was on the DVD. (No offense to anyone that prefers subs over dubs; I just have a really hard time splitting my attention between what's happening and who's saying what and trying to read the text. Plus I have a hard time sitting down and just watching a show and doing nothing else; dubbed makes it possible for me to do other things and not have to stare at the screen and hope I can read fast enough.) Since I had bananas on the brain after that and it's a really simple and cute art style, I decided to test out getting accustomed to the Surface Pro that I'd draw a little Bananya OC of sorts. In the show, the bananyas are named more so for the cat part of their appearance, usually, but I wanted mine to stand out a bit more and I'm pretty sure that if they aren't already that eventually, all the default cat-pattern names are going to be canonically taken. So I went and I looked up strange/different types of bananas and discovered the blue java or "ice cream" banana, which has a bluish tint to the peel when it's young, and because of it's vanilla taste and creamy texture, it's actually offered as a healthier alternative to ice cream in areas where it's more commonly found (hence the nickname). And now I really want to try one but I haven't the foggiest idea where I'd find them here in the states. My other option was a red/pink variety and the show already has at least 2 bananyas with pink peels and one with pink on her head, so I took the blue banana and ran with it. (Although upon further inspection, I think the newer bananya episodes they're currently working on that haven't been dubbed yet feature one with a blue banana peel so I may still not be completely unique here despite my efforts.) I went with more of a teal/greenish-blue as opposed to a more "true" blue, since even in pictures while the blue java is definitely blue compared to the average banana, it's not blue like a blue raspberry candy is blue. They're actually a pretty pastel kind of almost mint color-- And suddenly, as I'm typing this I think I better understand why vanilla Tootsie Rolls come in a blue wrapper...are they based on these bananas?? Does anybody know?? --*ahem* As I was saying... The bananas, from what I understand, also lose/fade that blue color as they mature. Which would explain why I couldn't seem to find a picture of a peeled Blue Java banana that had that same pastel-colored peel. But I went with it anyway. (This is a show about banana cats, I don't think we have to be 100% scientifically accurate here.) I also added some black spots to the cat part of my bananya, as I haven't seen a white-with-black-spots one in canon material and I have a bit of soft spot for black-and-white kitties in particular. And while I have had second thoughts that maybe her name should be "ice cream bananya" instead (for the reasons I went over earlier about the real bananas), I ultimately when with Blue Java Bannaya, as it very on-the-nose like the other bananya names, and in a way I think the "java" part fits with the black spots. But that's mostly just because java makes me think of "java chip frappucino" from Starbucks, which makes me think of chocolate chips, which are usually dark spots in cookies...see where I'm going with this? Though on the other hand, the black and white also kinda makes me think of Oreos, which would tie-in with the ice cream thing because usually Cookies n Cream ice cream is made with Oreos or knock-off Oreos, so I suppose it would've been equally fair to name her "Cookie Bananya" or something... Eh, for now, she stays as Blue Java. Or just "Java" for short. It was pretty straight forward to draw her, as I mentioned that the bananya style is pretty simple. Dare I say minimal? The main struggles I had boiled down to the learning curve with the Surface Pro and the new stylus. The pen pressure, maybe obviously, isn't as good as I'm used to, and the disparity between the tip of the pen and where the cursor actually is is different, and I think there's a little bit of lag when I'm drawing but that might be more to do with me having the stabilizer turned up a bit higher than normal in trying to compensate for the other issues. Still, I was at least able to manage for something as simple as this. I am admittedly horrified at the prospect of one of my usual, more complex digital drawings though...learning curves and baby steps... I'm not happy about the tablet situation, but at least the bananya is cute so I can focus on that instead. I do sincerely hope I'm very wrong about how long I'm going to be using this new set-up for though, because the way things are going it's going to be a very long time before I have the option of a better alternative... ____ Artwork/Character © me, MysticSparkleWings I do not own Bananya ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

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joiedecombat · 5 years

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Since I'm diving headfirst into SWTOR fandom, allow me to introduce my OCs.

Maia Sunder, Jedi Sentinel

The first, and by far the most developed by virtue of being the only one I have finished the class storyline for so far and thus the one who got to carry my first run through any of the expansion content.

Light Side With Emotions(TM). Has always preferred the modified version of the Jedi Code she learned as a kid, the one that goes "emotion, yet peace" and "chaos, yet serenity" instead of denying the former entirely in favor of the latter.

Miyazaki Girl

"How can I help?"

Sincere and forthright aka can't tell a lie to save her life.

No sense of direction, even with the Force.

Minimal sense of self-preservation; favors Ataru form and a high-risk high-reward best-defense-is-a-good-offense combat style.

I assume Lana and Theron share a permanent case of anxiety re: how they're supposed to keep this woman alive, dating all the way back to Forged Alliances and persisting to this day.

Doesn't slip into Dark Side behavior as much as more orthodox Jedi would think, but she's had some memorable lapses including punching Saresh in the face in front of the entire Alliance and murdering the shit out of Vinn Atrius (who, to be fair, really brought it on himself).

When she has no idea of what the right thing to do would be, she identifies what she wants to do and leans the other way (RIP Torian).

We do not talk about Iokath.

Married Theron Shan.

Owns a private retreat on Manaan under a false name, which aside from herself and Theron only Lana and Teeseven know about or how to reach them there. It's very comfortably and tastefully appointed, with a meditation room and roof garden with a hot tub, and they almost never go there unless one of them is hurt badly enough to need recuperation time because they are both ridiculous workaholics.

Secretly worries she no longer qualifies to be called a Jedi, and might not be wholly wrong about that at this point?

Not so secretly really kind of relieved to have lost the Eternal Fleet.

Needs A Vacation

Will never actually take a vacation because as soon as she hears that someone needs help, off she goes again.

The above is actually her fourth look, due to a tendency to plot-related expository changes.

Newly minted eighteen-year-old Jedi fresh off Tython. Spunky, energetic, ready to take on the galaxy. Orgus Din took one look at her and started drafting his will, probably.

After the whole business with the Emperor (the first time). A little older, a little wiser, a little sadder. Her longest-running look. Picked up the Force Apprentice armor set after Ziost and stuck with it through all of KotFE and KotET.

Post-Umbara trauma haircut, now in the process of growing out again. She's due for a new armor set to mark returning to the Republic fold, if I can figure out what to go with.

And that got longer than expected so the rest of the Sunder legacy will go in a different post, I think.

#swtor #jedi knight #knights of the fallen empire #knights of the eternal throne #theron shan #oc: maia sunder #the adventures of jedi knight and disaster spy #ask me about my ocs #the sunder legacy

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girlbookwrm · 6 years

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i DO recommend these fics, but this ISN’T actually a rec list

a while ago i did a meta about Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier and Hydra and the headcanons I put in The Terror of Knowing, and I mentioned that I wanted to compile a long-ass list of fics that inspired The Hundred Year Playlist and ppl (hi @conlatio and @marveluc) asked about it SO HERE, AT LONG FUCKING LAST, IT IS.

Fanfiction, like every other art form that has ever existed in the history of ever, is all about synthesis: combining pre-existing elements to make something new. It’s the making something new thing that’s exciting. (If you’re not making something new with your found material, that’s called plaigiarism and it’s distinctly uncool.)

When I was in college and grad school, if we used material from other scholars to make a new idea, we made sure to include a bibliography.

Now this is fic, so like. Everyone knows that we’re using found material. We put the fandom in the tags and everything. But there’s a lot of unseen inspiration, because it’s harder to tag all the fics and metas you read that gave you ideas and inspiration along the way.

I’m... making an attempt.

These are some, SOME of the fics that inspired the headcanons and characterizations and whatnot that then got incorporated into THYP. I’ve been reading MCU fic since 2014 (possibly earlier) and I didn’t even start thinking about THYP until 2017, so there’s probably a lot of stuff that went into my subconscious that I’ve forgotten about. I’m @ing the authors and sources when I know them, but if any of yall want me to like, un-@you (is that a thing??) or if any of you know of authors who have tumblrs that I DIDN’T @ but should have, pls let me knoooowwww

A (Probably Incomplete, but at least Attempted) Fanfic Bibliography for The Hundred Year Playlist

by Seriously I Don’t Have More Important Things To Do? Astonishing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS IN THE FICS THEMSELVES. THYP may be rated T for Teen (and even that I debate about tbh, given all the swears and violence) but most of these fics are very emphatically not. some of them will probably squick you out, some of them might be triggering, so take care of yourselves.

I’ve divided the list into sections by the story they inspired, but all of these stories inspired all the parts of THYP, this is a very very very rough categorization. Think of it as my fanfic n headcanon spice rack. some stories are going to have more or less of one spice or another.

Dreamers With Empty Hands

All the Angels and the Saints by @cesperanza

"You're a brutal person, you know that? You're always rummaging through my guts with your bare hands!" and then Bucky turned away, his long, muscled back curving as he sat on the edge of the bed, hunched and struggling for breath. Steve wanted to draw him, and he also wanted to blot the image from his memory: this picture of Bucky in despair.

Speranza’s Socialist Steve is deeply flawed in a way that people don’t usually write him and i love it so much??? He’s angry, and egotistical, and righteous in a way that’s hard on the people around him and I was like YESGOOD MORE PLS. It’s also a masterful example of how to write a story that’s ostensibly Steve-POV but still manages to make Bucky not only a main player, but a driving force. It’s about Steve, on the surface, sure. But it’s also about Bucky, because Steve is about Bucky and I just *clenches fist* love it.

cascades.

This fic. THIS FIC. Hngh. Okay so this fic is good on so many levels, but for THYP, the takeaway was me very gently lifting the Bucky-Steve-Barnes Family dynamic and then adding more swears to get to my take on the Bucky-Steve-Barnes Family Dynamic. Namely:

“Steve was a bit of a Barnes, too, wasn’t he,” she says.

“He was ours,” says Rebecca, shrugging. “We were his.”

i crie???

More Man Than You

“You’re very pretty,” she said, and Steve tensed up.

“I’m not a fairy.”

“No, you’re not, are you?”

this fic has a study guide. and that’s literally all I feel I need to say about it. It’s an exploration of queer culture and masculinity in the 30s and 40s, thinly veiled as stucky fanfiction. (It’s also pretty brutal so I’ll reiterate that you need to heed the goddamn warnings)

Also, lest yall think I came up with Billy Thompson in a vacuum, I didn’t. In this fic, there’s a violent mob runner called Duke, and Steve comes up with a plan to take him down, and Bucky makes sure that there’s a Different plan that Steve doesn’t know about. It’s all executed a little differently in this fic, but the idea lodged in my brain and got reused in THYP, and kind of became a central theme.

Good Morning Heartache, What’s New?

The Night War by @praximeter

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. This is... honestly, just one of the finest pieces of fiction i just

HNNNNGH

I don’t know that I can point to any specific part of this fic and say “this gave me that idea” it was more the... the feel of it. The way the Normandy invasion is written and the way the trauma is handled and the way Steve is just slightly to the left of being a real soldier and especially this:

He asked me with a smile on his face what goes through my mind when I line up my shot—God and country? Pearl Harbor? Uncle Sam? —and I stared at him struck dumb from the question so long that I think he thought I was just plain stupid. The fact is that it is none of those things—not even close. It is sick, numb fear and careful, barely breathing so that I don’t miss. I must never miss. And then when I shoot, an awful thought curls up from my trigger finger to my heart “how many mothers must be praying I will miss?”

The Thirteen Letters

oh you didn’t really think that Not Easily Conquered wasn’t going to be on this list, didja? OF COURSE IT’S ON THE LIST. But possibly not for the reason you might think. That fic is legen-fucking-dary of course, and the scene where Steve gets stabbed was obviously very inspirational for that bit in GMHWN where Steve gets shot in the thigh, but the scene that really got teeth into my brain and Would Not Let Go was the one where the Howlies meet the Winged Victory of Samothrace and

Bucky knows the truth now. It is a deep and insurmountable truth. She has no face. Like the operative whose head he beat in, like the boy who he killed one month into active duty, even like Bucky himself, Nike is faceless. Bucky feels unprepared, or like he should have brought an offering.

Beside him Steve quakes before the oldest and the only god.

look my fixation with statues didn’t come from nowhere is what i’m saying ok

Sincerely, Your Pal

This fic haunts me because i hate the ending. not because it’s not good (It IS good) or because it’s not the right ending for the story (it IS the right ending for the story) but just because i h a t e i t. I just like happy endings is all, and resolutions, and this fic is why THYP will have a happy ending.

But also, I really liked the way this fic dealt with Bucky in Basic and lines like this really caught in my brain:

And of course I want to kill some Nazis I guess but not because they’re people. Not because I actually want people to die because I don’t.

And that sentiment definitely fed into how I write Bucky especially.

The Terror of Knowing

there must have been a moment by @redstarwhitestar (magdaliny’s marvel sideblog)

Listen, I’ve been trying to make sure that there’s a good spread of writers on this list but magdaliny is the exception. Magdaliny is the exception for a lot of things and there must have been a moment when we could have said no is always the first fic I think of when I think of a fic about Bucky’s time as the Soldier. Which is ironic, because it’s very much about his time after that, but that first chapter made uhhhhhhhhhhh an impression.

The fractured nature of the narrative, the way that the reader can piece together a coherent timeline but the main character can’t... that was very influential on TTOK. example:

“Kill him,” the officer says.

The subject says: “Why?”

☙

“Kill him,” the officer says.

The subject makes a mess.

☙

“Kill him cleanly,” the officer says. “Good! Good lad.”

I’ll build a house inside of you

Another magdaliny G I F T, an AU where Nat is much younger and Bucky is her dad, and if you think that didn’t affect the way I write Bucky and Nat’s relationship in THYP, then you are dreaming.

Past the praises of the handlers, above the hot wet smell of cordite and blood, Natalia can hear crashing and shouting down the hall.

“—goddamn animals, they're little girls, they're just kids, you fucking—”

Her father screams in English, in Mandarin, in Russian, and then he just screams.

I know that’s a super sad excerpt but listen and hear me when I say this fic is actually really good and wholesome and it’s got A+++ OCs and All The Widows and it’s just really good ok

Memory

Bucky is hard AF to write and very few people write him half so well as magdaliny but one of those people is emilyenrose and this fic is M A S T E R F U L. Bittersweet and achingly perfect. It contains this beautiful moment that really stuck with me, where Steve is comparing the post WS “James” to the Pre War “Bucky” and realizes...

He truly hadn't known James all that well. James hadn't let him. Hadn't wanted him to. Hadn't wanted anyone near him, ever—

—the way Bucky went, when he was miserable, when he was angry...

and that, to me, was kind of key when I went on to write the Soldier, because the Soldier IS Bucky, even when he isn’t.

Fool For Sacrifice

Dona Nobis Pacem

THIS GODDAMN FIC came to me outta FUCKING NOWHERE, I’d already written the first draft for FFS, I’d already started posting it, for crying out loud. And then all of a sudden I stumble upon THIS and i just

It’s already fading, just hours after the skirmish. And the wounds Sam stitched will heal without a mark. And the welts on Steve’s chest will disappear. Like all of it never happened.

Fuck the serum. He keeps thinking it, saying it. Maybe if there were some goddamn scars, it’d be easier to process the damage.

This fic is heavy af, it’s like the 65k word version of That Chapter in FFS Where Steve Hits Rock Bottom. This was the fic I read when I was ramping myself up to tackle That Moment

three white horses

This is the other fic I read to ramp up for That Scene, and I think that probably shows in the way I wrote it. It is also is a Strong Contender for the title of Heavyweight Fic That Convinced Me Buck Is Jewish. Honestly I cannot praise this fic enough.

I think the thing that stuck hardest about the Steve in three white horses is the way he feels ghostly himself, like he’s only drifting through the present, and somehow most of his living happens in the past. It’s very beautifully done, and very subtly done, and it’s my go to fic if I am in Dire Need of a Good Clean Crie.

It’s getting an extra long excerpt because This Is My List And Neither God Nor Man Can Stop Me.

Steve's fingers touch metal when he reaches into the second-to-last box, and he feels the blood drain out of his face even before he's looked down. He knows the feel of it too well. He'd know it blind, a hundred years from now. It's Bucky's not-a-medal.

It'd been Bucky's grandfather's, or maybe his great-grandfather's, made of the kind of sterling silver that tarnishes if you look at it funny, so Bucky had always been polishing it; he'd traded cigarettes to the mess staff for baking soda and vinegar, during the war, but the thing was still soot-black half the time, like it is now. It'd been a fool's errand, wearing a thing like that in Axis territory, but Bucky'd worn it on his chain like the rest of the guys wore their Christophers and Michaels, and HYDRA'd ignored it. It was a subtle thing, though: nothing like wearing a Magen David, or the implacable H on Bucky's tags, just a thin slice of metal with a stylized branch and an oblique squiggle Steve only knows is the Hebrew word for life because Bucky told him so.

Bucky'd had a curious mix of reverence and irreverence about it, the same mixture that seemed to colour the whole of his religious life. He'd teased Steve sometimes, saying, “No, wait, you gotta kiss it before you enter the building, you schmuck, what are you, some kinda heathen?” with his legs around Steve's waist. Bucky hadn't complained when Steve had carried on with an inch of silver between his teeth, but Steve had offhandedly called it Bucky's good luck charm once, and Bucky'd blown up; it's not a superstition, he said, it's not a fucking amulet. He'd apologized later, and he'd explained, and said it was a touchy subject, just ingrained. Jews weren't supposed to believe in luck. Bucky'd thought maybe it was the opposite: maybe luck didn't believe in Jews.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches

AH YES, THE FIC THAT TAUGHT ME ABOUT LIL AUDREY JOKES. SIPPY CUPS OF SUPERBOOZE! A ROBOT CALLED SHITCAN!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU NEED IN A FIC??? I really like the way it addresses Steve being in the future is all

This one could probably also fall into the list of fics that inspired DWEH, in part because of This, which stuck with me Hard and heavily influenced the opening:

“...You ever have scarlet fever?"

Sam shakes his head.

"It starts in your throat, like an itch, and as your fever starts to climb, your tongue swells up and turns white and that's when they know, really, even before the rash, that it's scarlet fever. You can't swallow, it hurts so much. You're freezing and your joints ache and your fever keeps spiking and you start to hallucinate. I, uh, I thought things were crawling on me and there were voices that I didn't recognize whispering things that didn't make any sense. My mom had to fight me just to get me to drink broth, but I threw it up most of the time, anyway. Then I got pneumonia from being so worn down from the scarlet fever and I was so lucky, Sam. Nobody seems to understand how I lucky I was to make it through. Talking to people today, to make them understand I'd have to tell them I survived bird flu only to fall sick with Ebola."

listen. For reasons I can’t fully explain, I really wanted to read that happening so i wrote it, and this is what being a writer is All About.

Actually, on a second thought, I might be able to explain it: it’s because an experience like that is Capital F Formative, and I really wanted to explore how there’s a tiny sick kid rattling around inside Captain Beefcake’s souped up bod.

(And an additional shoutout to Steve Rogers’ American Captain, a webcomic that now exists only in the Wayback Machine, but which was L O V E L Y and I sincerely hope that the artist knows that)

No Hope for the Weary

Strays

This fic? is so fluffy?? Like literally so fluffy. But this fic (and, obviously, Infinite Coffee) were very much behind the inclusion of the God Damn Starbucks, and also the source of a lot of my headcanons about Barnes & Rogers: Secret Millennials. For Example: Bucky’s Notes on How To Be A Millennial:

- Lots of coffee. Travel mugs or paper cups from Starbucks place. Often looks guilty for drinking, obv derive pleasure from doing so. Unknown as to why. Investigate further? Why is there one every two blocks if no one wants it there?

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail

This is another fandom classic that needs very little introduction. A+ characterization, A+ OCs, Utterly Charming from start to finish, and the originator of a very distinct way of talking that got very strongly coded in my brain as Winter Soldier Bucky.

He passes within 4 m of Barnes on his way back to his building. The mission imperative achieves a Doppler effect.

contactContactCONTACTContactcontact

Aw.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by @silentwalrus1

If I had to point to one (1) fic and say “Blame This Fic for THYP” it would be this one: the Fic that my roommate and The Gal Pal know as “The One With the USS Motherfucker.” This might seem like an odd statement, because if you’ve read them both, I don’t think you’d necessarily put them in the same class. silentwalrus is a genius of hilarity and THYP is a big pile of The Sads. ITHLYN is delightfully unassuming and I’m sometimes embarrassed by how pretentious THYP ended up being.

I would technically put this under the list of fics that heavily influenced NHFTW on account of the way it portrays Bucky going by gradual degrees from murderbot to mostly human person, but listen I could never write Cryptid!Bucky the way Silentwalrus has. It’s magnificent. And TBH the level of Intensity in ITHLYN’s Steve has is something I aspire to, and the Sam Characterization is On Point, and both those things influenced FFS, 112%. Nat’s Chaotic Slav Energy in this fic is OFF THE GODDAMN CHARTS and I LOVE IT. Every single side character, down to the spaceship is given the kind of care, attention, and characterization that just... it cannot be beat, my dudes.

16/10 highest recommendation. I could not possibly pick a single paragraph from this behemoth but uhhhhh

Two minutes in there’s a grunt and a slippery, gritty noise somewhere to her left, and then the Soldier barrels past at breakneck speed, vanishing down another tunnel. A second later Steve careens around the corner, bounces off the opposite wall and crashes away after him, so fast he’s nearly a blur. Natasha’s brain, entirely of its own accord, provides her with the utterly unhelpful accompaniment of a Yakety Sax soundtrack.

that’s it. that’s the fic.

Also, this fic is Stoutly To Blame for the playlist aspect of the hundred year playlist? Silentwalrus really got me good with Grounds for Divorce by Elbow, one of my all time favorite songs, which was then paired with one of my all time favorite chapters. By the time Caravan Palace’s Lone Digger made an appearance, I was sunk. This fic introduced me to Lyube, and gave me a new appreciation(?) for dubstep. So many of the songs ITHLYN used ended up in my Very Long Stucky Playlist, though I think the only one that then went on to become part of the Hundred Year Playlist: Upside Down and Inside Out by OK GO.

And Finally, the Coup De What The Fuck Ever:

Ain’t No Grave by @spitandvinegar

yet another fandom classic... I wasn’t sure where to put this fic, but I couldn’t NOT include it in the list. Spitandvinegar’s Steve is charming and so? Sweet? and the ANG Bucky is a delightful foulmouthed mess of a person, and the Sam/Claire pairing is something I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED, BUT I VERY MUCH NEEDED IT and I don’t know that I can point to a single thing and be like: Ah Yes, This Bit, but this is definitely one of my faves:

Imagine you live in this country, right? And there's a brutal war, and you witness and maybe participate in a horrific amount of violence, and you lose absolutely everyone you care about. Then you end up in this other country, where the culture and ways of doing things are completely foreign to you, and random assholes make fun of you for how you dress and act and talk while you're still coming to grips with the fact that everyone you love is gone and you can never go home again. Meanwhile, everyone around you is like "smile, motherfucker, you're in the Land of Plenty now, where there's a Starbucks on every corner and 500 channels on TV. You should be grateful! Why aren't you acting more grateful?" So you have to pretend to be grateful while you're dying inside. Sound like an traumatized, orphaned refugee? Also sounds like Steve fucking Rogers, Captain Goddamn America. Except that most refugees were part of a community of other people who were going through the same thing. Steve is all alone, the last damn unicorn, if the last unicorn had horrible screaming nightmares about the time when it helped to liberate Buchenwald.

Usually this explanation yields a "huh." People don't want Sad Refugee Steve: they want Captain America, Indestructible Defender of Freedom. But that doesn't mean that Sam isn't right, because he is right, goddamnit. So yeah, Sam's a little protective of Steve. And if the last unicorn finds out that its best damn unicorn friend in the whole world is actually alive, then damn straight, Sam's heading out with a tranq gun and bringing that damn unicorn in and starting a goddamn unicorn wildlife refuge in his backyard. Or something like that: at a certain point the metaphor kind of gets away from him.

Til The End of the Timeline

I’ve recced this so many times you’ve probably all gotten sick of hearing about it, but it’s an invaluable goddamn resource and you should all check it out.

A Shit Ton of Metas and Blogs, some of which are tagged with THYP Research but especially @steve-rogers-new-york and @hansbekhart‘s How To Brooklyn and @historicallyaccuratesteve

and last but certainly not least

LITERALLY EVERYTHING @quietnighty READS HOLY SHIT

If you’re looking for a common thread through all the above recs, it’s that almost all of them have podfics, and the vast majority of those podfics are by Quietnight. I am, and always have been, an audio learner. I read my writing aloud when I’m editing, I listen to audiobooks when I’m commuting, and when I’m cleaning, and when I’m playing computer games, because I like stories, and I especially like listening to stories. Quietnight’s podfics are Of The Highest Quality, and her taste in fic is Impeccable.

hooooly shit this post is long wow okay. I can’t promise I won’t add more to this later, but I’m leaving it for now because goddamn. it’s as complete as I can make it at this time. I’ve added a “THYP Fanfic Bibliography” tag in my bookmarks, and incidentally I really need to make sure I’ve gone through and kudosed all of these because goddamn.

#i don't know how to tag this #thyp research #?#fic rec #??#stucky fic rec #???

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salavante · 5 years

Note

Odwain! The goodest.

Wow, featuring one of the more flattering drawings I’ve done of Odwain. Like last time, I’ll post all these guys separately and then do all the headshots in a masterpost. In the meantime buckle up for...a lot. (Thank you for giving me my favorite character.)

Full Name: Odwain Novak. In Ben Yit’gab, the Bennai language, his first name would be Oediwen, and it’s what his dad called him. His mother calls him Oddy and he does not like it.

Gender and Sexuality: Male and Bisexual

Pronouns: He/him

Ethnicity/Species: Odwain is a Ben-Aleth, a Human-Bennai hybrid, also called a mosshead if you’re in coarse company. His human mother Blanche Novak is mixed race. Odwain’s maternal grandfather came directly from Earth, Poland specifically, during one of the several accidental migrations of humans coming from Earth to The Road. His maternal grandmother is from a previous wave who were already settled on The Road by that time, but the family can trace her ancestry back to West Africa. Odwain’s father, Ashatov Novak, was a full-blooded Bennai, a plant-based halfling race. Ashatov took his wife’s last name.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Thinking about this trips me out man. Odwain was born in 1946, sometime in the summer, probably July or August, in Septor Secundis, a coastal, metropolitan city and the seat of The Road’s government. He’s 27 during his first adventure and right now, in Godslaughter, he is 69 (what the FUCK). He will live maybe 20 or 30 years longer than your average human, and is in better physical shape than a human would be at 69. He’s more like late 40’s or early 50’s.

Guilty Pleasures: A lot, probably - Odwain has just a bit of hedonistic streak just because he feels miserable so much of the time that he needs to feel good somehow. He smokes cigarettes for much of his life (but eventually quits), is a casual cannabis smoker and binge eats really truly terrible junk food (and has a bit of a gut because of it, but because he’s kind of lanky otherwise, he’s just kind of gourd-shaped). He likes beer, but doesn’t drink hard liqour all that often because he gets astronomically bad hangovers. Despite having a generally weak stomach, Odwain really likes frightfully spicy food, and his kids’ obligatory dad-gifts for him are probably hot sauces. When he’s not pounding down garbage, his favorite kind of cuisine is Thai. Not a guilty pleasure per say, but he also loves all things that have to do with insects, and when he and Rusty have a house together, Odwain takes up gardening as a hobby and plants an expansive garden of flora that are attractive to bees. (A Nice Thing: Odwain plants this garden when Rusty is pregnant because he found his love of insects through his father’s garden as a child, and wanted to give his kids the same opportunity) Odwain also maintains an apiary from the time that he’s living in a warehouse in the desert, to when he’s living with a partner and beyond. When he learns how to make Hot Honey it’s over for all of us. He has a modest collection of novelty bee-themed things that he’s amassed over the years, but he is not guilty about asserting his love of bees/wasps, like, at all. He’s also a little kinky but I’m not going into that.

Phobias: All of Odwain’s fears are existential - what if I push everyone away, existing in society is anxiety inducing, what if I’m just a bad person and my existence is making everything more difficult for functional people, etc. Though he’s kind of a sad fellow and has ideated suicide, and came very, VERY close to trying to kill himself after he dropped out of college, he also fears growing old and dying. I think death is more digestible to him if it’s on his own terms, but even then, I think what coaxed him off the edge was fear. If anything ever happened to his chosen romantic partner or any of his kids, he’d be besides himself, and is kind of one severe trauma and emotional breakdown away from becoming a bee-themed supervillian.

What They Would Be Famous For: Odwain is notable at a certain point in his career for being a pioneer in AI programming, and also for designing, building and patenting an invention called the Hercules Rig, which is basically a beetle-wing inspired jetpack. You can see it here. He holds the patent very closely and only allows it to be reproduced for recreation, construction, emergency rescue operations, etc. Odwain has taken a very firm stance on not allowing the military or any paramilitary organization to get their hands on it, though it has not stopped them from making shitty knock-offs that he is constantly suing people about.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Breaking and entering. Exploding something he shouldn’t. Buying illegal hazardous materials. Doing something petty that bites him in the ass.

OC You Ship Them With: To be honest there are not a lot of other characters besides Rusty that I ship him with. Bitter college rivals, thrown back together as late twenty-somethings, becoming better people together and learning to express empathy and vulnerability…it’s good. The only other character that I really go yeah, that’s the good stuff, is Jake’s character Finnick, who is kind of Odwain’s weird BFF and fellow mad scientist type. I don’t think they’d have a super stable relationship, and I think it would most likely be a “we yelled at each other and had weird sex enough that we like each other now” kind of scenario. But I do think they would come to love each other and have each other’s back to the death. Him and Hemlock, my dirty swamp witch who’s only picture was devoured during the great tumblr purge, also make a pretty fun couple for similar reasons. Iona too, but I think they are too explosive of personalities to ever find a stable middle ground. I also think he would find certain people attractive (August, Hare, Ganzrig, Ifechi the man I have spoken of but once, Jonquil in certain scenarios) but may not put himself out there to pursue them.

Neither of us have ever posted any art of her but here’s a few headshots of Finnick I did awhile ago, because she really is my favorite romantic partner for Odwain aside from Rusty, and is the only other one that’s really relevant in our games.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Odwain is fairly physically fragile and to be honest I think that most people could kill him as long as they could get their hands on him - he’s very dexterous and has a lot of gadgets that let him get the upper hand, keep enemies at a distance or escape. He has a ranged fighting/add-spawn build so he is mostly out of direct harm unless he’s reeled in somehow. But uh, Odwain IS dead right now in Godslaughter, he died fighting an eldritch deity named Dreamer who sucked him into a nightmare dimension and flayed his soul out of his body. It’s ok though, as long as the party beats Dio, he’ll be fine. I didn’t cry you’re the one who’s crying.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Ok, so, first off HAHA Odwain canonically likes Transformers and collects them, which are a thing in circulation after the last human migration from earth in the 90’s. Imagine. Imagine your grown ass father with a genius level IQ and multiple patents collecting plastic robots. Him and Finnick have transformers sonas - ANYWAY, that aside, he doesn’t really read for pleasure, just information, and generally just puts on cable while he works for white noise (and in later years, whatever The Road’s TV streaming service is). Most of the media he consumes is incidental to him, but will get interested in strange things that pique his interest. He probably thinks true crime docs are neat and enjoys pulpy sci-fi stuff that he can complain about. Any documentary about bugs. He’d like Mystery Science Theatre if they had it around. He enjoys things that are the fun, good kind of “bad” and has a fairly high threshold for disturbing imagery.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Odwain is that guy who makes 20 minute long youtube videos lampooning movies for “not making sense”. If there’s anything that breaks his suspension of disbelief, his attention and tolerance disintegrates, even if it’s just one of those things that needs to happen to move the plot along. It doesn’t really matter what genre it is, though he is most hard on sci-fi and fantasy. There is a tipping point for him, however, where he starts enjoying the thrill of blasting something and circles back around to enjoying it.

Talents and/or Powers: Odwain is only a little bitty bit magical, and only because Bennai are the most magical race on The Road. He has latent magical ability that allows him to sense magical signatures and incorporate magic into technology, and maybe cast a low level spell if he tries really hard. If he was in a high fantasy setting, he’d be an enchanter. His staff (the big lightbulb thing I draw him with sometimes), the Hercules Rig, his Wasp Suite (robotic wasps with an AI and different spells loaded into them) and any other devilish, bug-based weapons and utility objects do his work for him.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Odwain’s a bit of a tough walnut to crack because I think that he shines in moments of sincerity and vulnerability, but he has to, well, get there. He’s capable of very great, thoughtful acts of selflessness and compassion, and deeply desires meaningful relationships with other people, but he gets insecure about how he expresses himself and can clam up. He’s passionate, emotional and expressive, but has been put down for being so, and was probably a very brilliant, curious child who was beaten down into a somber adult. I actually think that, at some point in his childhood, he was not entirely unlike Whitty in the way that he was eager to share things with people and explore the world around him, which is why Odwain feels very protective of his grandson. I think the most lovable thing about him is that when he’s at his best, nothing can stop him - he’s extremely intelligent, diligent, creative and innovative. He truly, deeply loves making things, and making them better, and when he’s not in a crash, creates prolifically. What he loves, he loves deeply and without compromise, which makes Rusty, a person that could also be said of, a good match for him. I also think his cattiness makes him very witty, he’s a genuinely funny guy who can engage in some really goofy shenanigans when he’s feeling up for it.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Oh, lots of reasons. Odwain is an acquired taste to many, or just not to many’s taste at all. He is very petty, blunt and catty, and as a young man is extremely bitter and negative. You’d be very hard pressed to get a positive statement about anything out of him between the ages of 16-25. He’s very confrontational, can become very loud and intense if it’s something that he feels is important, and is not afraid to cut people out of his life if he feels that they aren’t good for him. Sometimes, he will end relationships/friendships prematurely because of this. Being such, he is heavily prone to self-inflicted isolation. He has no childhood friends, and only kept in touch with one person from college. He just cuts and runs. Odwain’s self-loathing runs very deep, which makes it hard for him to accept, or ask for, emotional support or affection. And that can be hard on the people around him who care about him. His executive dysfunction can also be abysmal, making it seem like perhaps he is messy or lazy, but he’s just kind of a mess himself, hah.

A weird non-psychological one but I think is enough to get someone’s hackles up is that Odwain doesn’t like animals very much unless they are insects, invertebrates, etc. He finds mammals loud, messy and needy, and that “I’m the only one in my house that is allowed to be all of those things”.

How They Change: As Odwain ages and gains a stable support network of friends, his edges soften and he learns how to ask for help more effectively. He also learns how to better choose his battles, and how to exercise the compassion that he knows he has, but has been too insecure to utilize. He manages his mental health better, but is never entirely free of it, because you never really are. Most importantly, I think, he learns how to forgive the people who deserve forgiveness, and give people second chances, accepting that people can change. Which means the same can be said for him, too.

Why You Love Them: I’ve talked about this before, somewhere, I’m sure. Odwain is one of those characters that has a very big slice of my personality, and has a lot of my more negative traits, though they are ones we’re both working on. My first session with Odwain was a scene where Odwain’s dad died after being ill for a very long time, and as it happens, it was on father’s day, on the first or second father’s day after MY dad died, after several brutal months fighting with the cancer that eventually killed him. I had to put down the dice, so to speak, and for a short time, thought that Odwain might actually be a character that I scrapped completely. He came too close to something very painful and personal. I don’t remember how, exactly, but the solution to this problem of mine was that if he’s getting close to me on his own, then I might as well just let him in on everything. I can genuinely say that doing that has changed the way that I empathize with my characters and how I make them, and that there is something I share with Odwain that I don’t have with many of my other characters. Also, I like bees.

#odwain #tyromedico

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otomeshistarlight-blog · 6 years

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Rant incoming

I was scrolling through the JoJo tag when I saw this post and I just ... I’m really tired y’all.

First of all, according to a google search it looks like the age of consent in Italy is 14 (if I’m wrong, please correct me) so Narancia is very legal, as is Giorno. America’s laws are not universal. The world is not so UScentric that whatever we as a country deem inappropriate is likewise considered to be inappropriate in other countries. There are varying standards throughout different societies and one is not necessarily more correct than the next. Whether or not I think real life fourteen year olds should be having sex is irrelevant- because even if I don’t agree with it, it’s gonna happen anyway - but Narancia is not a real fourteen year old so whatever the law dictates in America OR Italy is irrelevant.

What this boils down to is that there is no victim here. Narancia cannot be taken advantage of. Narancia cannot be sexually assaulted and face the physical/emotional consequences of such trauma. There is nothing inherently wrong with shipping him in ANY pairing, regardless of the ages involved. If I want to write about him getting wrecked by Bruno I will damn well do it because not a single person is being hurt by me doing so. If this is something that triggers you and causes you distress then don’t 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 look 👏🏻 at 👏🏻 it. 👏🏻

Fighting for the rights of fictional characters solves nothing. It helps no one. It doesn’t benefit real victims and it sure as hell does not stop real people from being victimized in the first place. This is a nonissue that people are taking up arms over for no reason other than a perceived moral superiority that makes them feel more in control of the world around them. It stems from feeling helpless and lost in a society that doesn’t bend to their every whim. Fandom space is the only place they feel like they have any power so they take on the role of morality police, try to dictate what people can and cannot like, and then accuse anyone who won’t do what they say of heinous crimes. It’s extremely toxic and harmful, not to mention it lessens the severity of sincere pedophile/abuse finger pointing so the chances of a real predator getting away with it are greatly heightened, and I’m just done with it at this point.

Let’s say I’m looking through the porn tags as I am won’t to do and I come across a post that features blatant child porn. Real child porn. The 3D kind that, yknow, actually features real children being exploited and assaulted for realsies. I’m understandably appalled so I file a report with tumblr and they don’t even look at it because they’ve been bombarded for the last year with false harm to minors reports and the user is never penalized for actually doing something inherently wrong and immoral. Y’all have heard about the girl who cried wolf right? Like, y’all know how that story ends don’t you?

But no. Instead of directing your efforts towards anything worthwhile, you’re going to keep going after shippers. And for what? Because oh no, the fictional seventeen year old who could just as likely be nineteen is being paired with a fictional twenty-five year old. The horror. What is the world coming to? Think of the children!

Except ... these supposed children don’t exist. How can you victimize a piece of paper? The same argument applies to loli/shotacon too mind you, and there is no crime in looking at drawings regardless of their perceived age, especially when the topic is anime where you can have a character who looks like a five year old girl and she is in fact a 400 year old vampire. Like?? There is absolutely no logic you can apply to this that has any internal consistency let alone actually makes sense.

Me: these fictional minors don’t even look like sixteen year olds, where have you seen a real teenager who looks like this?

Antis: they look like teens you pedo!! And ageing them up is still pedophilia because they are canonly sixteen so you’re still thinking about teenagers in a roundabout, highly contrived way

Me: *shows you a 300 year old loli vampire* okay so I can definitely fuck this one right? She’s unrealistically old!

Antis: no!!!! You’re just using her canon age as an excuse to be a freak who preys on children! She might be 300 years old but she still has the body of a child!!

Me: okay so I’ll just age myself down to self ship, no biggie.

Antis: absolutely not!! You’re still an adult and ageing yourself down doesn’t make it okay!! I’m reporting you to the authorities right now!

Me: but ... who am I supposed to imagine fucking then?

Antis: one of the few adults you find in anime, except this one because he’s an abuser, or this one because he tortured a little girl and not the serial killer either because wow problematic

Me: so what you’re telling me ... is that I’m only allowed to thirst after your preapproved, precious cinnamon roll faves even though my tastes or needs in a relationship might vary greatly from yours?

Antis: yes, exactly. I’m so glad you’re finally on my level of intelligence and moral superiority. : ^)

Me: oh, I see now. So what this boils down to is that you just don’t want people to enjoy something you don’t personally agree with. Got it.

Antis: absolutely not!! I’m thinking about the betterment of society by telling you what you can and cannot enjoy! You liking these questionable things is harmful against the greater good! Won’t you think of the children!?

Me: soooooo we’re just gonna ignore how much that sounds like a fascist/communist society or ...?

Antis: : ^)

Y’all should absolutely read 1984. It would do you some good. Because having an attraction to a fucking anime character is not a slippery slope, but this puritanical shit? It sure as hell is.

Let me pose this query: what is stopping an anti from going on a book burning campaign or fighting to get certain books banned? Lolita? Flowers in the Attic? All of the works by Marquis de Sade (a personal hero of mine)? Alternatively who are the only people who actually engage in book burning/banning?

Overzealous religious nuts. Everything about the anti movement is the same “our children shouldn’t be exposed to such filth” battle cry that religious sects - specifically the western ones - have screamed for decades now except with a cute little sjw hat on top. No rock n’ roll music. It’s Satan’s music. No porn. It’s tainting America’s youth. No alcohol. It’s leading our country down the path of sin. No violent video games or movies. They’re turning people into mass shooters. No problematic themes in fictional works because it’s turning people into pedophiles/abusers.

And that is just ... factually incorrect. There is absolutely no correlation between Lolita being published and an uptick in children being sexually assaulted. There is no correlation between lolicon or shotacon breeding more pedophiles. Because that’s literally not how it works. Period. I’m not going to accidentally stumble on a loli doujin and think “huh yknow what? This sounds fun!” I could even read loli doujins at length and that’s still not going to convince me that actually engaging in sexual situations with toddlers is okay. Like ... I don’t know why these people think we’re so stupid that we don’t know the difference between right and wrong but this is just insane. The only people who look at loli or shota and then go on to commit crimes against real children are the ones who were already having those kinds of thoughts in the first place. The only people who play Grand Theft Auto and then go shoot up a church are the ones who were already having violent thoughts to begin with. These thoughts are not magically implanted into our brains regardless of what media we consume and that’s just a goddamn fact.

Yes, media impacts reality but not the way you think it does. Even all those sources antis link to about the supposed correlation between the two are twisted to meet their own rhetoric. It’s called marketing and anyone with half a brain cell knows that it exists. It’s meant to encourage us into thinking we need some product so we spend money on junk and keep capitalism going strong. it works more often than not. However no amount of marketing is going to convince a mentally sound person that shooting up a mall is a valid life choice to make. It just doesn’t work like that and you could scream until your blue in the face that fucking kids is the bees knees and I still wouldn’t touch a real child because that’s gross. Period. And since I can’t touch Bakugou Katsuki or Narancia because they’re just figments of someone’s imagination and pen and paper ... then where lies the problem?? What is the issue with writing or drawing fictional characters, regardless of age or moral compass, in sexual situations?

I’m a CSA survivor that has been on the internet for a LONG time. I’ve seen some shit I sorely wish I could forget. Everything from real life gore, real life death, bestiality, necrophilia and yes even real life child porn. I don’t think there’s a single problematic thing I haven’t accidentally stumbled on and it’s horrific. It’s disgusting. I know all too well how awful these things are and I know even better how it feels to be a victim of rape and sexual assault and pedophilia and grooming. Like. That was my life growing up. I know what these things look like and I can assure you without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is going on in fandom space isn’t even comparable. Please. Draw your OC fucking a dragon mascot character instead of fucking a real animal. Please write about a fictional father fucking his fictional son instead of fucking a real child or a real sibling. Do whatever you want with your imagination - and I do mean WHATEVER. If you want to think about eating your favorite characters shit then by all means. Enjoy. It doesn’t effect reality in any way besides maybe giving someone a cathartic coping outlet and there’s nothing wrong with it.

There’s nothing wrong with ANY topic being explored in fiction.

The only problem is when someone commits a crime in reality. When someone hurts another living being. And consuming this so called problematic fiction does not lead someone to real life crimes. Period.

Finding myself on that stupid gore site when I was 14, BestGore I think it’s called? Did not make me want to try killing someone. I’ve never even seriously contemplated doing it because death is awful in every regard, I wouldn’t seriously wish that on anyone let alone convince myself that it’s okay. But according to antis me being exposed to that sort of content means I’m more likely to go out and commit murder?

Literally what crack are you smoking?

Get the fuck out of here and do something worthwhile with your time if you honestly find these topics so disturbing. If not then shut up, sit down and let people enjoy their fandom experience however they see fit. Because this right here? This treating fictional characters like they matter, like they’re real people? It’s not fucking cute. And as someone who was raped from the time I was eleven until I was eighteen by a family member I can safely say that you aren’t doing shit to help anyone with this holier than thou, I know better than you crusade.

And that is the goddamn truth whether you like it or not.

#discourse #anti #shipping

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.31}

*Severus Snape x OC*

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"Oh man, I wish we could come along!" Gideon sighed, then rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands with an expression that bordered on a pout. "How unfair is that?! You guys get to go up the astronomy tower and have all the fun while we're stuck writing a bloody charms essay! Why on earth is fate so cruel?!"

"Maybe fate just likes us better than you." Cas replied with a smug expression, and a victorious smirk at the boys on the opposite side of the table. "There's nothing you can do about that, Gideon, but to just accept fate as it is."

"Pff, as if fate hasn't been kind enough to you already by gracing you with us in the first place…" Michael protested immediately, and Cas rolled her eyes in return. The only ones who currently knew better than to take part in this ridiculous conversation were Jorien and Simon, both of who already had something else to do for the night anyway. Smart of them, really.

"I honestly can't blame fate for not liking either of you right now." Robin sighed in sheer annoyance, and desperately hoped that dinner would be served soon. She had sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the rest of the dunderhead gang barely five minutes ago, and informed the group that she might be able to arrange a visit to the astronomy tower for Cas and Melissa three minutes down the road. The remaining two had been filled with the two boys' complaints about not being able to come along. Honestly, Robin had enough of the discussion. "If you guys had done your work any earlier instead of lazing about like dunderheads, you wouldn't be in this situation."

Now it was both Gideon and Michael who rolled their eyes at her in sheer annoyance. "Well, not everyone can be a swot like you!" The latter huffed, then sighed again, quite as dramatically as possible. "If only there was someone a year above us who could help us with the assignment… Or someone living in the same bloody room as us…"

"Why do you guys have to make everything so stupidly difficult…" Robin groaned under her breath while Simon gracefully ignored the allusion, then she hid her face in her hands when her headache only grew worse at this inane discussion. She really had not imagined this to be quite so difficult, not remotely. The older everyone got, the more difficult they became to deal with. Well, to manipulate, actually.

"See, Robin, if you-..." Gideon didn't get further than that, when Jorien cut straight into his attempted complaint.

"Just shut up Gideon, will you?" She snapped back at the boy, much to everyone's surprise. Until now, she had remained pointedly quiet for the entirety of the conversation just like Simon. Michael made a move to protest, but Jorien was faster. "And you too, Michael. Just shut. your. mouth. I don't get to go either, nor does Simon, but do you see us complaining?!"

"Well no, but-..."

"No 'but', idiots! You're being terrible friends to both Robin and Cas right now, if you haven't noticed, and you're seriously ruining everyone's night with your pathetic whining! So get a bloody grip already and just be happy for Cas that she gets to do something fun. And better be bloody nice to Robin now if you don't want her to send you into detention instead of up that stupid tower!" Jorien's cutting tone fit the fact that she still glared daggers at both boys, who both looked immediately intimidated in return. Robin couldn't help feeling immensely proud of the girl, and thankful that she was doing what Robin herself was just too tired to. These kinds of problems were on a different level than what she was dealing with today, and there was no room in her mind currently for teenage quarrels.

"You… can't really give us detention, can you?" Michael asked Robin so carefully that all hints of the previous accusations and protest were history.

"She can, and she will." Cas shrugged before Robin could, with a humoured expression even now that the discussion had taken a turn. "Robin can do anything, in case you still haven't understood that at this point. Giving you detention is the very least of that."

An idea sparked up in Robin's mind then, a new and perhaps even better one that would allow her to cover up for most of tonight's impending doings and thereby justify what she needed the girls to do for her. Keeping an eye out for Morgan's departure and return wasn't all that ordinary of a request, after all. She would need a cover story, and this could pose an even better one than doing the girls a favour by bringing them up the stupid tower indeed. So perhaps, teenage quarrels were the way to go after all.

"It's true, I can do and get away with pretty much anything around here." Robin shrugged in feigned ease and confidence, and all eyes were drawn from Cas straight to her instead. "Giving detention or unlocking the astronomy tower is nothing but a warm-up to me."

"Yeah, sure…" Gideon snorted, then quirked an eyebrow at Robin with a grin. "How about you convince Flitwick to spare us that bloody essay then?"

"And why would I want to bore myself out of my mind by doing something as easy as that? Even you could do that if only you tried." Robin scoffed in return, in an act that seemed to fool at least the two boys she was currently targeting. The girls and Simon however were rightfully doubtful about her sudden change in demeanour, but luckily they kept their suspicions to themselves.

"Oh, so you really mean it then, do you? You really can do anything?" Michael shot her a smirk at first, then turned to whisper something to Gideon and finally both boys looked at her with mischievous grins. "How about a little challenge then, huh?"

"If you are able to find anything that could remotely challenge me in the first place…" Robin sighed in sheer exaggerated boredom, then shrugged. This was going precisely to her plan, and the boys had absolutely no clue about how well they were playing their roles right now. Lovely. "Why not. Try to challenge me, if you can."

"How far do you want to go?" Michael questioned again, but he obviously had an idea in mind already that he was just trying to present in a grander manner. Robin only wanted to scoff at his badly hidden intentions… people were so obvious sometimes.

"How far can you think?" She replied instead, and raised her eyebrows at the two boys. "You would like me to waste my time by proving a point to you. The least you can do is to make it interesting for me."

"Fine then." Michael grinned at her, then nodded at Gideon, who nodded in return. Boys… Robin inwardly rolled her eyes. "Since you're obviously not scared of any of the professors, I think we should go up the hierarchy instead. And if you want to go all out already, why don't you break into Professor Dumbledore's office to see what it looks like in there? Nobody I know has ever seen it from the inside."

"Oh please… I've been there numerous times. I could just ask him to invite me over for tea any time, and I could even bring you along if you'd fancy that." She sighed in utmost feigned disappointment. "He and I have some matters to discuss anyway, now that I think about it… How would you like coming along to tea tonight, Michael, huh? I'm sure the headmaster would be delighted."

Simon, Cas and Jorien snorted in reply to Robin's easy teasing tone, Gideon was trying not to, and Michael looked entirely flustered. Alright, perhaps Robin did have a little fun messing with them alongside the execution of her plan.

"Fine…" Michael huffed, then crossed his arms over his chest. "But which professor doesn't invite you over for tea on a regular basis?! I'm starting to think you're the bloody minister himself!"

"She's Robin." Cas smirked at the boys, and thereby brought a sincere smile to Robin's face as well. "That's even better."

"Let's see… We should try thinking about it her way." Gideon pulled a ridiculous thinking face, then started grinning again a mere moment later. "The only one I've never heard Robin speak about is Professor Morgan. And from what rumour says, the two of them go quite roughly on each other in class. Is it true that he broke your wrist once when he demonstrated a spell from the restricted section on you?"

"Oh come on guys, you won't actually make me deal with Morgan of all people!" Robin feigned an annoyed complaint, and at the same time completely ignored the question, as well as the indeed very real memories it brought back. Her wrist still made clicking sounds sometimes… even though Snape had fixed it, after she'd insistently refused to go to the infirmary. "Morgan is literally the only person I don't get along with."

"It's settled then. You're going to break into Morgan's office." Michael grinned in what he believed to be his victory. "It's probably full of defensive spells and traps and other surprises…"

"Perhaps we should pick something less difficult after all, huh?" Gideon added with a smirk and a nudge of his elbow into Michael's arm. Boys…

"As if anything that man does would actually pose a problem to me." Robin scoffed in perhaps a little too much feigned confidence, but it was all part of the act anyway. This was the moment to set the hook once into her story and for all. "But if you guys insist on it, you shall get your point proven. Tomorrow morning, I will tell you the exact order of the items Morgan keeps on his desk. Then you can confirm that I really was there, when you go to his office under some pretext on Monday."

"I hadn't even thought of that, but if you're offering a piece of proof already, I won't decline. Not that we actually need any, with you always telling the truth and all." Michael shot Robin a grin, then one at Gideon who also looked immensely pleased with the challenge they had set. Or rather the challenge Robin had made them set for her very intentionally. Poor them, reduced to chess pieces in a game they couldn't understand… But they deserved that much for annoying her tonight.

She had to admit however that this was quite perfect, in the way it had played out. She had been in Morgan's office today after all, which means that tomorrow she would be able to say she'd been there yesterday without being dishonest. In addition to that, she surely would be able to remember the order of things on Morgan's stupid desk without actually having another look at them… with Snape's help, at least, she could draw that information from her memories. At some point, later, when there was room for it in her mind again.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Robin?" Simon finally dared to voice a thought, and Robin did feel a little bad to play her act on him now as well. He'd been very kind to her nerves as of yet, and he surely deserved better than to be a mere asset in her current schemings. "When Michael challenges someone, it never ends well. Especially not for actually intelligent people.

"Hey!" Michael protested, but went kindly ignored.

"Have a little faith in me." Robin gave Simon a half smile instead, reassuring yet confident in her words. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Jorien raised an eyebrow at her as well now, surely catching on to the very un-Robin like behaviour. But quite obviously, she also caught on to at least the idea of some greater plan behind it. "You know, as always?"

"Precisely as always." Robin gave her a not-smirk, and was content with the hint of understanding flashing over the girl's face in return. Well, at least one person understood that she wasn't as stupid as to blindly accept any challenge.

"Great, now that we have that settled, I could use some food to prepare for the long night ahead! Even if I won't be the one breaking into Morgan's office." Gideon sighed with a smile, then a small snort escaped him as he not-so-subtly motioned towards the side entrance behind the head table. "Speaking of the handsome devil, look who's just arrived! And- oh boy, what happened to him back in Hogsmeade today?!"

Robin didn't even have to turn around to know exactly what was playing out behind her back. After a few seconds of gathering her confidence, she still glanced over her shoulder at Morgan who just now made his way from the door to his seat. He had changed his robes and also gotten rid of all other indicators of what had happened just a few hours ago… everything was back in place, as was a striking dark blue bruise on the left side of his face. It was as noticeable as could be, a dark beacon on his pale skin. Great. A cold shudder ran down Robin's back in an instant when he caught sight of her in return, and back was the feeling of raw anxiety. Fuck… she hadn't thought that seeing him here would be this fear inducing all over again, even if he was at a good distance to her now, and surrounded by a good amount of his colleagues.

"I wonder what happened to him…" Cas said out loud what everyone else was thinking. "Poor Morgan… He's such a nice person, he doesn't deserve that! Whoever did that to him should suffer the same fate. Or worse. Preferably worse."

Cas' words made Robin feel sick with a start, like a sudden blow to the stomach she hadn't seen coming. They never spoke about Morgan, never discussed any of the rumours that were going around about the things he had supposedly done to her in class. Cas and Jorien probably believed them to be quite as wrong as all the other rumours about Robin they had heard over the years. Only that this time, the vast majority of it was unfortunately true. In the past two months, he really had done his utmost to send her to the hospital wing in a state of unlikely recovery as often as he could. And still, as it seemed, Robin's friends were quite as fond of Morgan as everyone else. Gods… Robin really did feel sick now.

"Perhaps he just walked into something, or had an accident with his work…" Simon suggested with a small shrug. "It doesn't seem too serious either way, if he's here at dinner now and not in the hospital wing. I'm sure he's taken good care of."

"He will be fine, I'm sure of that." Jorien added in agreement, reassuringly as well as hopeful for just that. "And I'm sure whatever or whoever did this to him got what they deserve. He knows what he's doing after all; nobody in their right mind would attack a defense teacher."

Robin's stomach was in even tighter knots upon the realization that indeed all of her friends were seriously concerned about the professor, as if he had done anything to warrant such sentiments. Concerned, and in obvious favour of. She clenched her teeth, took a deep breath, then put on her best neutral facade. They didn't know what she knew. They didn't know what kind of a man he truly was. But that didn't stop their behaviour from hurting Robin. Didn't soothe the stab in the back she felt. She took another deep breath. Be rational about this, try to see things from their side. How could they possibly like him? Why?

Perhaps he was acting differently with them, a different man under different circumstances. Perhaps he wasn't as easily put into a box as she wanted him to be. He couldn't be the same person to them as he was to her, if even Jorien – who picked up on almost as many hidden clues about a person as Robin did herself – was in favour of him. Perhaps it was Robin who was the problem. Yes really, it only made too much sense. Morgan, the man who everyone just loved and cared for, and she, Robin, the girl who everyone despised and feared no matter what she did. When being rational indeed, the answer to which one of them both was the problem here was a simple one after all. In the end, the world liked Morgan better. In the end indeed, they would either mourn his death or turn their back on hers in celebration of his victory. That thought was deeply unsettling to Robin all of a sudden, perhaps even more than Morgan's presence. The world would always like him better, even if Robin turned her back on either.

But then there was Snape. He didn't fit the pattern the dark parts of her mind were trying to recognize here, didn't fall into line with the vast majority of people. Or with anyone really, but her. With her he stood together, had always, would always. The thought made Robin smile ever so slightly against all odds. He saw more of her than all the others, knew more of her truth than anyone else, and he still was on her side of matters after all. He was on her side, against the world. Perhaps her friends would be too, if they knew what she knew. Yes, that was a reassuring thought for once: They would stand with her, if they knew that there were sides to pick in the first place. But until they could know, she would have to live with them being in favour of both her and Morgan. Perhaps, they would never have to know about any of this.

It was then that dinner was finally sent up, and it was then as well that she felt the familiar tingle in the back of her mind. Seeing as her friends had long moved on from the previous topic and now started indulging in their meals, Robin dared to look over her shoulder and towards the head table once more. A brief and careful glimpse told her that Morgan was deep in conversation with Sprout now, so her eyes finally landed on the man she had meant to seek out. Their gaze met, and she smiled when his presence became a gentle caress of her mind once more, taking away both the tension and the headache with a start. Gods, she could finally breathe again.

'You gave him that black eye, didn't you?' Snape's words, his voice filled with a subtle pleasedness, rang out clear as ever in her mind, and Robin was only mildly surprised by the not entirely new mode of conversation. They often shared emotions this way, or memories like earlier today, but she was pleased to find that it worked just fine to have an actual conversation too. Even, or especially at a distance like this, and without anyone else taking notice.

'Obviously. You saw how my fist met his face, and probably also felt how badly that hurt my hand in return.' She replied in the closest thing she could imagine a half smile to sound like. He would understand that.

'I did indeed.' His words were succeeded by the strong feelings of pride and admiration that were most definitely intentionally shared, and Robin's smile widened while she did avert her eyes however to not make it too obvious what she was smiling about. Or rather who she was smiling at. It wouldn't be good to get caught staring at him like that.

'Very true, it would likely cause us even more problems.' He commented on her thought even now that she was finally setting out to heave some food onto her plate. When she looked back at him, his eyes were set on his own dinner, with only the briefest glimpse up at her for a broken second of acknowledgement. So this also worked without sight, even at a distance… interesting. Robin looked back down to her meal and shared with him the wave of relief she felt upon his presence in her mind. She could feel him smile in return. Slowly, the fear and hurt in her mind became thus replaced by warmth.

'If you're in my mind already, you might as well take a look at the outcome of the conversation I just had to endure.' She finally phrased in actual words again, when she felt his presence lingering even after a while of comfortable silence on either side. Honestly, she was glad that she didn't have to be alone with her thoughts right now. So she showed him the outcome of the discussion with Gideon and Michael.

'A challenge? How imbecilic is that…' He scoffed after a moment of going through what she put on display for him to see. Robin sent a wordless agreement in return, then he added, 'It was a brilliant idea to use it as a cover for our doings though, under these circumstances.'

'Why thank you.' The smile that came onto her face as she chewed her green beans was very real and visible to her surroundings, in contrast to the wordless conversation they were having at least. 'The idea to do them a favour just wasn't entirely working out the way I planned, so I had to switch strategies. This challenge, no matter how idiotic I personally find it, is both a cover story and an alibi that reveals neither your involvement nor our actual plans for tonight to anyone involved.'

'Clever.' He replied, and Robin returned the feeling of how pleased she was upon the praise. She felt him smirk for a moment, before he finally made another comment. 'I am thoroughly disappointed in the dunderhead gang for taking pity on Morgan though, even if they do not know any better. Are you certain you don't want to give all of them detention tomorrow? They could scrub some cauldrons while we watch them with a coffee.'

Robin let out a rather loud snort, a real one, and it drew her friends' attention to her in an instant. Oh dear… perhaps she needed some more practice in having a mental conversation while in the physical presence of other people at the same time. She hadn't even been listening to the real conversation going on around her at all!

'It seems that they just realized the very same thing.' Snape's smirk was so palpable in her mind that Robin rolled her eyes for real, which didn't help the situation and only made her friends stare openly at her as if waiting for an explanation for her odd behaviour. 'Redundant of them to expect any differently. It shouldn't come as a surprise to them anymore that you are indeed quite odd.'

"Oh, do shut up already, will you?!" Robin groaned in her head as well as out loud, and her entire group of friends frowned at her in even more confusion. Great… Now she certainly did seem insane after all! In her mind, she heard Snape's low chuckle echoing all through her being for a moment, before he left her to deal with her surroundings by herself for now. Insufferable idiot… But the smile he had brought back to her lips stayed there even as she joined back into the usual banter with her friends, without any more mention of Morgan or the black eye Robin was proud to have given him after all.

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}

*Severus Snape x OC*

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."

"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."

For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.

"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."

"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."

"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"

"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"

"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"

"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."

"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."

"I can imagine."

"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."

"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."

"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."

"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."

"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."

"Don't bet on it."

"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."

"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."

"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"

"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."

"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."

"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."

"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."

"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"

"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."

"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.

"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."

"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."

"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."

"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."

"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."

"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."

"Get out of my sight already."

"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.

When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.

… … …

Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.

Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.

The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.

The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.

After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.

"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.

Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.

… … …

Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.

"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."

"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."

"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."

"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."

"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.

"How the hell do you know that again?"

"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."

The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.

"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."

"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.

"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.

"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."

"Where did that change of mind come from?"

"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."

"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."

"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."

"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."

"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."

"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"

"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."

He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."

"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"

"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."

"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"

"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."

"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."

"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."

"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"

"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."

"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"

"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."

"That certainly-..."

"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."

"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."

"Why do you think so?"

"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."

"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."

"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."

"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"

"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"

"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."

"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."

"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."

"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"

"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."

"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.

"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"

"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

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