Tumgik
#this started as a ‘in this essay i will’ post but just. became writing i guess
coveredinsun · 2 years
Text
after the apocalypse burned their fields, took their ruler’s life, and destroyed their livelihoods, the people of gilded helianthia chose to leave and settle on a new continent. out of respect for their queen, and all the other kings and queens who tended the land before her, no other ruler has beared such a title.
in the hundreds of years since, their beliefs around the sun have become more of a religion, and their very last queen an icon. now, when the sun princess steps into the church of pearl, the sun’s final champion and the breaker of dawn, she doesn’t quite feel at peace with it.
111 notes · View notes
Text
the thing about podcasts for me is that i actually have a really hard time listening to them and have tried to get into at least 20 if not double that over the past few years but have never been able to get through more than a few episodes and that’s usually after forcing myself. this is true for all except one podcast. because i have only ever been able to listen to and enjoy that single podcast, i listen to it on repeat and have been since 2020. i have been informed recently that this is not something that happens with other people
0 notes
finelinefae · 19 days
Text
tongue-tied
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk
word count: 3.1k
contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying
a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3
. . .
“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 
She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 
Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.
“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”
Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 
Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 
Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 
Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 
It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.
A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.
When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 
Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 
Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 
Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 
Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 
Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 
“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 
“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.
“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 
Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 
Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 
“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 
“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 
“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 
Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 
“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.
“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.
Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 
She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 
So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 
“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 
“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 
Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 
They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 
Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 
“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 
Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 
“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 
“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.
“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 
She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 
Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 
Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 
Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 
“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 
He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 
Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 
Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 
Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 
It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 
Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 
They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 
Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 
“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 
“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”
“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 
“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 
Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.
“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 
When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 
. . .
Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 
He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 
She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 
So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 
“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 
“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 
Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 
He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 
“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 
“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 
Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 
Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 
By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 
Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.
“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 
“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 
“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 
“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 
“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”
“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.
“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”
“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 
Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.
“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”
“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 
“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.
“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 
“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 
Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.
1K notes · View notes
starstruckmoony · 6 months
Note
Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))
tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined &lt;3
king of my heart.
masterlist , requests
pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader
summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.
trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff
word count - 12.8k
warnings - language, smoking
if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.
you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.
unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.
and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.
"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.
"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once. 
"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."
"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.
"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.
"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.
"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.
"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.
"projecting?" you almost stuttered.
"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.
that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.
it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).
your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.
that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.
lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.
just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.
***
a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.
it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.
you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.
one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.
to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.
you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.
"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.
"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.
"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.
"borrowing." you corrected.
"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."
"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.
"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.
"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.
"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."
you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.
"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."
"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.
"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.
"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"
"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.
"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.
"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.
the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.
the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.
***
in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.
classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.
it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.
so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.
you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.
you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.
you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.
"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.
"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.
"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.
"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.
he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.
"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."
you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.
"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.
you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.
"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"
he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"
he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.
"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.
"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.
lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.
"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.
"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.
"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.
"you suck at everything." he corrected.
"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.
"dumbass." he bit back a smile.
"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.
you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.
"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.
"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.
he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"
"never." you finished that for him.
"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.
"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.
you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.
you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.
for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.
you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.
"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.
"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.
"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.
"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.
"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.
"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.
"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.
"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.
"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.
"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.
"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.
"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.
"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.
"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"
he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"
"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."
"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.
"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."
"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.
"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"
"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."
you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."
he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.
"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.
he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.
you picked up your quill, "sit down."
you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.
i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.
in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident. 
who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.
you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.
it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.
snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.
"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?
"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.
okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.
he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.
you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.
you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.
you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.
you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.
hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?" 
you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.
"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.
"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.
"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.
"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.
"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.
"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.
"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.
you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.
you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.
you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.
you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.
you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.
none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.
you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.
much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.
"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.
"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.
lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.
"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie. 
"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."
you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.
you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"
somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.
and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.
not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.
"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you trotted over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing." 
"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."
he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.
"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.
"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?
"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.
"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.
he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.
"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway. 
you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.
you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.
"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.
"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.
he made a face, "merry christmas?"
"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.
you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.
it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.
from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.
***
you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.
but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.
"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.
"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.
"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.
"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.
"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.
"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.
"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.
you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."
and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.
present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.
potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.
when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.
you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.
"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.
"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.
he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.
"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.
you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.
"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.
"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.
"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.
"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."
"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.
all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.
"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."
"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.
spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.
you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.
a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.
for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.
he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.
"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."
you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."
when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.
"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.
"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.
"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.
he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.
your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.
"you okay?"
"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.
"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.
four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.
or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.
"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.
"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.
"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.
"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.
other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."
you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.
he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.
you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.
eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."
"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.
madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.
she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.
and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.
you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant. 
the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.
"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.
"why are you here?" you questioned.
"came to check up on you." he replied.
"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.
you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"
he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.
it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.
as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"
lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.
"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.
"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.
"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.
you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.
"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.
his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.
you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.
"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.
"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.
it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry. 
you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.
you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.
at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.
1K notes · View notes
lovingjingyuan · 17 days
Note
Just thinking about Yan Sunday with Layla reader…
Reader is so tired, weak and stressed all the time about her study and thesis… reader’s state could be vulnerable to him since he can grabs her so easily.
Or Cryo Vision? He just need to keep away from you, make you lose memories and lies that you are his lover.
Please, I need Sunday post with Layla reader..
Tumblr media
Yess Ofccc! I love Layla sm she's so pretty and I relate to her a lot, but I ignore my work on purpose. But her design is so pretty when I first saw her she became my favorite immorality like Furina! I Barely sleep now because of tests and exams. Also Thank you for the request <3
Pairing: Sunday x Layla reader
Warnings: Yandere Sunday, a bit ooc, mention of drugging/spike drink, manipulation
-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
Tumblr media
The paper, assignment, and late work kept piling up on you. You can't catch a break even after completing each assignment. Your sleep schedule started getting messy which raised concern from Sunday.
Yet Sunday never liked how you pushed everything aside to focus on your academics. He secretly hated the mentions of your future that’s without his picture in there. How you'll leave the dreamscape in Penacony once you graduate and finish your studies here, yet he kept a happy smile pretending to support your goals.
Recently a big project and essay was coming soon. You need to submit your thesis and get it approved as soon as possible. Writing endless papers piling up anything to get this approved like your life depends on it.
Sunday lent you his office since the library was packed with others trying to get their thesis approved too. Sunday quietly works on his paperwork reading the new bills and policies trying to get passed. Work was keeping you both busy yet you still couldn't help but start dozing off.
Your head and eyes felt heavy falling slightly. Your tired body rested against Sunday's shoulders causing him to look up from his paperwork and towards you. He raised an eyebrow before smiling and caressing your cheeks.
The tea he offered you really seemed to take effect quickly. He couldn't help but to spike your tea before offering it to you. He couldn't stand seeing the eye bags under your eyes when you forced yourself awake even though your body was already weak enough. The way you've been ignoring him and growing distant from him to focus on your studies, he despises the fact you cared more about your academics than him.
He caressed your hand gently. He was glad you were deeply asleep knowing he was soon going to perform the last step to keep you for himself…
You woke up in a room and stretched. You felt more at ease but a sinking feeling appeared in your heart when you realized your thesis and project was due.
You scrambled, throwing the blanket off and seeing Sunday's hands stopping you and shushing you holding you in his arms.
"What's the matter? You looked at peace when sleeping?" He cooed at you brushing his hands through your strands of hair.
You stumbled over your words as you tried explaining your thesis still needed to be submitted before the due date. Sunday's face darkens slightly as he forms a wan smile
"Oh, the one you were working on? A friend of yours came in stating they were your partner for this thesis and were going to submit the thesis for you today," He held your hands in his.
Your face and heart dropped so far below. You sobbed as you scrambled hugging yourself and started ignoring his words. You were furious at Sunday even though you knew it wasn't his fault for falling for this trick. You’ve never told him what you were working on anyway.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry I didn't know," he said in his sweet tongue. Gosh, you really can't hate him but blame yourself.
In the end, the due date passed and it was too late. You sobbed and sobbed as Sunday held you in his arms comforting you. You were so fragile to him. A fragile weak human who needed his and The Harmony's protection, yet mostly for you to rely on him.
As you cried you looked in his pile of trash paper to see your thesis. You pushed yourself off him and grabbed the paper pushing aside his pile of documents and scattering them all over the floor.
Fury arose yet you sat there in complete silence and confusion, "why?" You muttered weakly dropping the paper as you broke out into a sob, "Why Sunday? Why did you lie?"
Sunday wing's on his head tense up as well as his expression as his smiles slowly fade away.
"What do you mean? Your thesis? I thought you meant the project you were working on earlier," He tries to hide his guilty expression by the fact he was caught in a lie.
Before you could comment you were dragged out by the Bloodhound Family. Sunday was going to make sure you never stress over any academics again.
You open your eyes in a white room. You sat up smelling a familiar white room and bed. A hospital? You looked and saw a man. Gray hair, white angel wings on his head, a golden halo floating above his head, and a sweet angelic smile plastered on his face.
"I'm Sunday... Do you remember me, darling?" The man named Sunday introduces himself with a question. Yet even though he felt similar you couldn't break down why.
"I feel like I know you"
"That's great darling" he brushed the hair from your forehead planting a kiss on your head. "I'm your lover, not just your boyfriend."
You didn't stop him but sympathized with his feelings. Sunday was never going to let you leave this dream now. You'll never have to cry or mess up your sleep schedule and health anymore. You were just too fragile to face reality so he’ll insist the dreamscape is the only safe haven for your fragile body. This was the true dream he longed for and he will make sure you love it too. 
206 notes · View notes
qprstobin · 8 months
Text
Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)
(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)
Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.
Which leaves him in a conundrum.
He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.
However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.
... Not that he thought women were horses.
He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.
Anyway.
That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?
His solution ended up coming from an odd place.
Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.
She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.
The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.
(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)
They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.
He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.
They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.
The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.
He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.
Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.
So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.
"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.
"Why is that your first assumption?!"
"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.
"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."
"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."
"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"
That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?
"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.
"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."
"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"
"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.
Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.
Robin relaxes a little at that.
"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"
"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."
"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."
That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.
But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.
"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."
"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"
"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."
Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.
510 notes · View notes
azrielgreen · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
There's a reason I always moderate comments but i approved this one so people can see how truly vile it gets sometimes. I'm not arrogant. I don't think the way I write is better at all. Exploring them on an authentic level means exploring this, or any, version of them with wholehearted passion, not that this is the authentic interpretation of them. Writing intense stuff isn't a brag, it's a warning so people can be prepared for stuff like arguments and confrontations. I always over-warn for CW stuff so that, again, people are prepared. I never once have asked people to read it. It's just there and I've tried my best to a) write something i loved and b) thoroughly warn those who might read it. Any interpretation of the characters is valid and worth exploring. It's so sad to see a reeled off list of all the way Steve "should be" and the implication that nothing but strict canon adherence could ever be a passionate, worthy exploration. It's... only fanfic? It's not real. They're not real. Nothing is real and everything is possible and that's supposed to be what's fun about it.
I write the characters very intensely, so yes, they are often out of character, sorry for... warning about that? I write different backgrounds for them and play with the negative space of possibilities and potential and i do this with authentic curiosity and passion because I love doing it and i get very into it. Sorry for warning about that too, I guess? When I first started writing in this fandom, some people pointed out to me that I could CW warn for them being OOC and that was new to me, i didn't think I had to warn for that. I thought people would read the tags, like in other fandoms, and understand that the story would do different things with the characters but it became clear that this was actually solid advice as this was a fandom obsessed with "canon adherence" and policing. So I thought I would CW as thoroughly as I could so no one would be shocked or disappointed and then maybe they wouldn't leave an essay of hate in the comments.
But ultimately, people like this would only be satisfied if I deleted everything and stopped writing. I barely participate in this fandom as it is beyond answering asks and writing. I don't rec my own work. The thing i don't ever want, and this is why it was worrying seeing something like YD becoming "popular", is for people to feel like they *should* read my work without having gone and looked for it via the tags. Without having found it naturally, just by browsing and thinking "that's definitely for me". I've only ever posted for small rarepairs in the past so a couple of comments on a fic always made me so happy. I write for myself and the few others in the world who might like it. I have never written for an audience. If you don't like something I wrote, it's not for you. Genuinely. Move along to the next, no? That's what I would do.
This was so spiteful and targeted. YD is so old at this point, I just don't understand people who do shit like this. I don't bother anyone and I try to be here for anyone who needs me. I CW as thoroughly as I can. I don't think I'm better than anyone. I think every single iteration of these characters is worthy and valid and what matters is how fun they were to write, for the author. I had so much fucking fun with these stories that seeing this miserable little rant seems pointless to me. I don't care if you didn't like it. I don't care if it wasn't to your taste. Writing it was what I wanted. Sharing it is secondary, always. It's fanfiction, written for free in my spare time. I didn't take up space, I didn't trample anyone. There is no reason for this beyond spite.
I am sorry about the vest/jacket mixup, however. Truly, genuinely from the bottom of my heart devastatingly sorry about that. I know it'll take time for people to forgive me and maybe no one ever will, I have to make my peace with that.
Anyway, thanks for loudly projecting your feelings onto me and my work.
💜💜💜
191 notes · View notes
Text
UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SEMI FINALS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*NOTE; propaganda is out of order due to the post length!
Eugenides Propaganda:
the entire plot hinges on a detail he lets the reader (and every other character) assume is true. I don't want to spoil it because it's a really fun reveal but he is lying from the first second he appears on the page and you can't trust him to tell the full truth about ANYTHING related to himself and his goals. he mostly does it to keep his advantage and not have other characters be suspicious of him but it's just so fun when you realise he's been lying the whole time
Kim Dokja Propaganda:
I haven't read orv but he's fucking gotta be from what I've osmosised
He tries to remove his emotions out of the narrative soooo much, literally the most repressed guy ever. Okay so for context orv is about how this guy, Kim Dokja, has been the only reader of an obscure post-apocalyptic webnovel for years and the novel suddenly becomes reality. And at first you'll probably get the weird impression that his behavior is pretty strange for, you know, a literal apocalypse happening in his world - like yes, he is concerned with survival but he doesn't seem all that scared and he kinda treats it like a video game where he has to grind to make himself stronger and he also treats his companions like a party in an rpg. Then there's also the way he approaches the protagonist of the webnovel, from the start he just kind of describes him as a ruthless psychopath and jerk that is unfortunately a pretty useful ally. And also there's the fact that he carefully omits any mention of his past and when somebody asks if he's worried about his family when the apocalypse starts he just kinda... brushes it off? Anyway so yeah, this bastard is definitely traumatized, although I don't know how much of spoiler territory that would be, considering the fact that literally when he first reveals his trauma he's also unreliable about it. And turns out he does indeed, care A LOT about this world and the people around him. Because well, he kinda didn't care to mention that this webnovel that has become reality was like... literally his whole world before it literally became his whole world. Like, it was the only thing keeping him going for 10+ years and the protagonist that he likes to call a stupid jerk was his comfort character who he pretended to be when he felt like he couldn't handle something in his life by being himself. The protagonist is also canonically the person he loves the most according to a prophecy and he literally can't fathom the thought of him dying, even the timeline versions of him that directly oppose him. And I haven't even mentioned the Fourth Wall yet but I feel like this propaganda is a little long already
misreading the intentions of his companion (yoo joonghyuk) so many time.
YOU DON'T UNDERSTANDDD DOKJA IS SUCH A UNRELIABLE NARRATORRRRRR GOD I COULD WRITE AN ESSAY BUT I KNOW YOU LOVE DOKJA TOO BUT OMG HE'S JUST SO AAAAAAAAAAAH
Rest of Propaganda under cut!
he is the worst like actually. he starts the story talking about how normal and average he is. he is not. he is constantly mischaracterizing his friends and he's so good at lying to the readers that you don't even realize it at first. almost every single time he cries we have to be told by other characters because he never says it himself. there is literally a scene where his narration says "i wasn't crying" and then the in-universe entity that narrates the actions of people (orv is really weird and meta) says that he was, in fact, crying. honestly genuinely anything he says about himself (or doesn't say) cannot be trusted. he is just so frustrating. he drives me mad. i love him dearly. but he drives me so mad.
Dictionary definition of unreliable narrator. Does not tell the reader anything and then things happen and he's like oh yeah btw there was also this and this earlier but i just didn't feel like mentioning it. There's even a thing called the "Fourth Wall" that is able to see through kdj's bs so occasionally you get gems like,
Kim Dokja: I didn't cry
The Fourth Wall: [Kim Dokja was crying]
Imagine being so unreliable as a narrator you need a more powerful narrator to call out the actual narrator.
^ same submission, just spacing it out
This goes into spoiler territory, but; Kim Dokja is in possession of a skill called the Fourth Wall, which on the surface seems like it appears because he read the book that reverse-isekai’d into his own. However, as the story goes on it becomes clear that it’s pretty much a souped up version of his pre-existing dissociation. You cannot trust him to be honest about his feelings, his past traumas or his feelings about his past traumas, not to mention his tendency to just outright omit information that only gets revealed later on either when it becomes relevant or when an outsider POV reveals what’s actually happening.
Exhibit A: he says (in 1st person POV) that he’s not crying. The Fourth Wall immediately contradicts this (as it is literally words of the novel) by saying (in 3rd person POV) ‘Kim Dokja was crying’.
Exhibit B: Fails to mention entire actions when it shows him emotionally honest even in the slightest; we had to read from another character entirely when Kim Dokja was being physically affectionate with his companion. It’s so bad that there’s this entire paragraph about Kim Dokja describing himself hiding his eyes in his hands in jerky, weirdly specific detail and just AVOIDING EVERY WORD THAT MIGHT SHOW HE’S CRYING. The brilliance of ORV is that when you re-read the entire thing you get hints that ‘yes, this WAS hinted at the entire time’ but you have to dig it out of Kim Dokja’s repressed, depressed self-hating internal dialogue with your own two hands.
^ same submission, spacing it out (i really should've done this earlier.)
i am a simple man (not a man). i see a tumblr text post with the words “unreliable narrator in it”. i read nothing else. i reblog & tag #kim dokja okay but in all seriousness i’m just going with the musty basic example: so there’s this moment where he sacrifices himself to save this guy. as he lays on the ground bleeding out, he says “hey, you don’t like me, right? you should kill me to get some money” the guy says “no kim dokja i cant do that (going through the five stages of grief except there’s only one and it’s anger)” the constellations (twitch viewers irl) are like omg he (the guy) doesn’t want to kill his companion (kim dokja) and shower him (the guy) with money kim dokja: oh, he’s not killing me for the money. smart!
as i quote a brilliant youtube video (all of omniscient reader’s viewpoint in 6 minutes) “yoo joonghyuk sees kim dokja as a c_____”
yoo joonghyuk: companion
kim dokja: cunt
^ same submission, once again. spacing it out.
Hides his true feelings, tells the readers what he thinks is convenient for the plot and that his own personal feelings don’t matter or are not so significant. Has unreliable thoughts abt his companion and is a liar. And is also an omniscient reader.
Kim Dokja always perceived his companions in this like nonchalant way like “oh yeah we get along but really we’re just fighting to survive (apocalypse setting) it doesn’t run that deep” when they all do genuinely care for him and he does in turn. He just, doesn’t think of it as an equal relationship? Dokja’ll sacrifice a lot for them but will get seriously flabbergasted if they do the same thing, so fricking problematic. Not to mention Yoo Joonghyuk, his “Life and Death Companion” (read: husband). Kim Dokja always seems to think that Joonghyuk has it out for him, which is kinda true, but he is literally blind to the fact that he’s attached to him. Like, it’s so obvious??? Also they have hella sexual tension but that’s another thing entirely
se get some many pov changes where kdj in his pov just assumed things based on what he knew the characters would do. however because of his interference the characters have changed and he wouldn’t know that if it hit him in the face
He's an unreliable narrator because he lies to himself and thus the audience. He literally rewrote his own childhood core memory. If someone says, "this guy is my friend!" He will go through so many hoola hoops in his mind just to rationalize it. Because he fundamentally believe that no one could love him and even if they did they couldn't know him and he's just gonna hurt them. He cries sometimes in canon but a lot of those times it's not even mentioned as crying he's that unreliable of a narrator. No joke, one time this guys he has a gay thing with called him his "companion" to someone who had just killed him (long story) and this bitch thought "oh wow he's doing it for the coins (another long story) he's so smart i wish I'd thought to that. He's terrible. He literally has an exchange with something called the Fourth Wall (an even longer story) where it said "you're crying" and he said "no I'm not" but he was crying. He makes me insane because the reader is supposed to project onto him. He made me see how much of an unreliable narrator I WAS. ORV is just like that tho.
604 notes · View notes
so i keep referencing the What Broke Delirium essay i plan to write but never actually writing it, so let's dig into that one!
because. sandman does not spoonfeed information. neil gaiman even said this in regards to the tv show, most shows are written these days under the assumption that audiences aren't really paying attention and need things spelled out for them - but sandman is not one of those shows. you gotta notice everything to get the full story
which honestly i love in many ways because it's part of why i'm never gonna run out of sandman essays to write - every time i reread the comics or rewatch the show i catch something new
and this is one of the first hidden bits of info i caught - remember this spread from overture?
Tumblr media
it's a fucking gorgeous page and one of my favourite in the entire sandman run, both for the pretty art and the content itself (i love delirium SO much)
but let's just zoom in on the center of those flowers for a sec
because there's tiny tiny text written inside them
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(for anyone who can't parse that, the first says "delight was sad", the second says "delight went mad")
now i've mentioned in many of my posts before that the endless all struggle to experience their own aspect, they are that thing, it exists for the most part out of their reach, and that causes problems for all of them
but i usually leave delirium out of these explanations
and that's because, for whatever reason, delirium is the opposite. and delight was too. i don't know what it is that makes her different, but while her older siblings all seem to be barred from their own domain by nature (or have to go to great lengths to experience it), del is too much of it. she's utterly absorbed by it. and while i think she's learned over the centuries how to be a bit more flexible (she understands the coins have two sides thing better than any of them, and can be lucid when she needs to), she didn't start out that way
we don't know what it is exactly that broke her. but we know why.
she had spent all of her life as the personification of happiness and joy, and someone who embodied those emotions. she appeared most as a little kid as delight, because kids definitely find it a lot easier to stay in that perpetually excited, happy mindset
but nothing stays that way forever. and this is where she is like her siblings, and why she's so familiar with the coin metaphor - when you're missing a fundamental piece of being human (either by being barred from your aspect or by being absorbed by it), that's not sustainable. it will tear you apart. dream refuses to accept that this is the case, and that breaks him. desire is equally stubborn about it, and they've outright admitted (in narration) that they're hanging on by a fucking thread
but death figured it out, when she realised she couldn't fulfill her function properly without learning what it was like to live. destruction figured it out when he ran away to go create. and delirium figured it out the hard way, because as soon as the world got a little too big for her singular aspect to make sense, it shattered
and it shattered slowly
there may have been some form of inciting incident, but she didn't become delirium overnight. i think a lot about her describing it as "growing up, or at least growing older", because that's both a very mature way to look at it and also an extremely tragic way to look at it, the idea that she knows too much, is never going to see the world the same way again, and that means delight is never coming back
(and that realisation is when she stopped presenting as a child and started presenting as a teenager)
Tumblr media
and i think for a while, early days of being delirium, not delight, she didn't know what to do with that. delight broke into scattered pieces and the more fell away the harder it became to connect them
but she's also the only one of her siblings who's picked herself up from that. and it's why she's the wisest of them. because from there she learned
okay, so her innocence is gone. so delight isn't coming back. but there's still parts of her around, if delirium ever needs them. and the more she observes about the world, the more she experiences, the more different pieces she gets to add to the puzzle. they don't fit together, but that's del's real strength - they're not supposed to. she could have tried to reassemble herself piece by piece, like gluing together a broken statue, but why would she do that? then she'd be exactly as breakable as before, if not more so
instead she's more of a floating amalgamation of pieces, or rather, she's the ties between them. and because there's no set puzzle, she can put those pieces together in any order. she's no longer susceptible to the same problems as her siblings, because she's not missing anything anymore. she didn't lose parts of herself when becoming delirium, she gained some
and yes, no one is entirely without flaw - her downside is she's still susceptible to strong emotion, and when that overwhelms her mind she stops being any kind of person, we just see that floating amalgamation, until she can calm down. but that's the worst of it. her siblings may see her as broken, but she's more whole than she ever was as delight. and she's never going to break again
809 notes · View notes
goodbyeapathy8 · 2 months
Text
Leaving Kindergarten Mafia
There have already been a few posts floating around about the Discord server implosion of Kindergarten Mafia. They do a great job of outlining the events that happened, with documentation, directly from the folks who were harmed by the server owner (Hann) and mods that helped enable their racism. (Snake and Mouse, Jinx1, Jinx2, mousydentist, Faye, among others.) So I'm not going to do that.
These are my own thoughts on the specific racism and tenets of white supremacy that I observed in the server as well as a general commentary on joining fandom spaces.
Rarely do I emphasize my age but it's relevant so here we are : I am 35 years old this year and Kindergarten Mafia was part of my first baby steps into any fandom. Ironically, my hesitation to join fandom ended up being proven because I had heard, for a very long time, that fandom spaces were dominated by racism and a failure to acknowledge POC fans. For a long time, I was complacent and felt "safe" in that server of 300+ folks.
Until one Native member spoke up about the usage of "spirit animal" as appropriative and the cracks in the foundations began to show themselves to everyone and not just the people with marginalized identities.
I had already started to feel uncomfortable in how the server dealt with ableism. There was also a member who I've previously called out on Tumblr, for usage of the m*dget slur in their story, and who became extremely vocal recently. (Spoiler alert - they wrote an entire essay excusing their usage of it, multiple times in the fic, because they couldn't be creative or bothered enough to come up with an alternative for a "short person".)
Without further ado, let's get into it. These are all from the link above, "tenets of white supremacy in organizations" (and yes, a Discord server of 300+ people absolutely DOES count as an organization).
1. Sense of Urgency, such as prioritizing quick or highly visible results that can exclude potential allies. -> In the server, both server owner and problematic mods continued to emphasize that their "missteps" (i.e. racism) was due to needing to seek a solution ASAP for the good of the server.
2. Worshipping the Written Word, such as valuing strong documentation and writing skills. -> Rebuttals to POC/marginalized folks were constantly full of dictionary definitions, copied over.
3. Believing in Only One Right Way, such as concluding something is wrong with people who refuse to adapt or change. -> POC members and allies were banned when anger was expressed because OUR anger suddenly made it an "unsafe" space for the server owner and problematic mods.
4. Paternalism, such as decision-making processes that are only understood by those with power and unclear to those without it.  -> Despite multiple server users disagreeing with the server owner's tactics (including the co-owner, who stepped down), Hann continued to defend + make decisions.
5. Defensiveness, such as spending energy trying to protect power or defend against charges of racism. -> There's too many examples to cite here. But in the end, it was claimed that the initial problem was solved. And then the problem mod was invited back. With additional defense of why.
6. Power Hoarding, such as feeling threatened when anyone suggests organizational changes. -> Instead of wanting to listen to marginalized identities, the server was threatened with a shut-down. Multiple people stepped up to take over as server owner. But power hoarding was more important so not only was the server shut down... it was resurrected from the dead to include their favorite (white) people. This leads us to...
7. Believing I’m the Only One, such as thinking that if something is going to get done right, then ‘I’ have to do it.
8. Fear of Open Conflict, such as equating the raising of difficult issues with being rude or impolite. -> The initial issue around the problematic phrase was ridiculously hush hush. POC members were banned for their (rightfully so) angry remarks.
9. Believing in Objectivity, such as considering emotions to be irrational and destructive to decision-making.  -> Not just the server owner but the people who rushed to defend them and the problematic mods, claimed to be impartial and objective, based on their queer identities or other things. As humans, none of us can actually be objective and all of us are a little racist because racism is a systemic problem that we were raised under.
10. Claiming a Right to Comfort, such as scapegoating those who cause emotional or psychological discomfort. -> In the end, it was clear that only whiteness was valued when POC folks + allies were banned or made to feel uncomfortable enough to leave (such as myself).
I know I've only posted my thoughts/feelings vs documentation (which, you shouldn't always demand because see above for "worshipping the written word") but if this screenshot of the new rules for the new server doesn't convince you that something (racism/cult-ism) is wrong with these folks... I don't know what will.
Tumblr media
TL;DR - Ownership and modding of a large Discord server doesn't make you a god. You are, unfortunately, still a puny mortal with the biases that come along with being as such. I'm sure it was a fun power trip for those involved but I am happy to expose the rotting underbelly in a way that I see fit.
In conclusion, I leave you with further reading that will help decolonize your mindset and has done a much better job at showing that the problems with the Kindergarten Mafia are not unique (as they claimed). It is one that those of us with marginalized identities face constantly and we are fucking tired of running into this and being treated in a way that emphasizes the problem with our existence in real life. Intersectionality and decolonization is what will actually liberate us, and without both, online spaces are simply the same reflections of real life.
At the very least, I hope it gives some of you food for thought.
(I will also post my Scathing Letter™ that was my last message in the server as a separate post because I am wordy AF and this is already too long.) [1/26/2024 update] Now with part 2 because apparently I had more things to say.
55 notes · View notes
syrupsyche · 7 months
Text
Instead of working on the actual fic, I'm going to be sharing headcanons on my canon era Enjsette siblings au. I would probably mention some parts of it in the fic(s) I'll be sharing but if they never see the light of day, here are some of them! Shoutout to @pumpkinspice-prouvaire for inspiring this post <3
Fantine absolutely adored getting matching EVERYTHING for her kids: that goes for their names (Eugène and Euphrasie), their outfits, and even their hairstyles. She likes to match her hairstyles with them as well :')
Speaking of hair, since Enjolras has the same hair as her, she lets it grow out so that she can comb and style it. He may be 3 years old but he sure has a ton of hair
Tumblr media
When they get placed with the Thenardiers, just as how Mme. Thenardier was Cosette's main tormentor, M. Thenardier would be Enjolras'
Other than the canonical heavy labour Cosette had to do, Enjolras would be sent out to pickpocket from the inn's customers and the rest of the town's inhabitants as well
Whenever Enjolras got caught, Thenardier would put on a big act and punish him in front of whoever was the victim ("My sincerest apologies, good monsieur/madame! He must have gotten his nastiness from his good-for-nothing mother.") before taking him away and just punishing him once more for getting caught
(And I'm not saying this is where Enj would get his immensely deep-rooted sense of injustice from but im NOT not saying that either :))
Cosette and Enjolras would try to take the brunt of the punishments for each other but that just became getting twice the punishment. Eventually, they learnt to just rely and comfort each other afterwards
Tumblr media
When Valjean comes to find them, he buys Catherine for Cosette and a toy soldier for Enjolras. He named him Jacques.
Enjolras took longer than Cosette to warm up to Valjean (M. Thenardier was his tormentor after all, so his trust in male authority figures was already low), but eventually grew to trust him once his sister did
Enjolras especially loved hearing Valjean read to him. Valjean read the usual children's books and fairytales but when Enjolras began begging for more, he just gave up and started reading anything he could get his hands on: history, philosophy, etc. (which is why Enjolras turned out Like That)
Tumblr media
When they move to the convent, while Cosette went to school, Enjolras stayed in the hut and continued being taught by Valjean (and Fauchelevent!) While Cosette was intended to become a nun, Enjolras was to take over as the convent gardener
Cosette would run up to the hut and chat with Enjolras whenever it was playtime- they would exchange whatever they had learnt during the day
Tumblr media
Slowly, Enjolras got his hands on more and more radical books, teaching himself about the current political climate of France and devoting all his time to reading and (attempting to) write his own essays
Eventually, when the family left the convent, it was partially to allow Enjolras to pursue his new-found interest in politics as well as the canonical reason of letting Cosette explore society.
Due to their difference in interests, Enjolras and Cosette grew apart, though all 3 family members clearly still cared for one another deeply
Understanding the dangers of dabbling in politics, he decided to go by a moniker in order to keep his private family away from his public affairs. Thus, Enjolras was born.
Tumblr media
This is where my fics begin to pick up from so I guess no more spoilers (??) Hope this made some bit of sense or at the very least, the drawings were enjoyable! :D
139 notes · View notes
mcytblr-archive · 4 days
Text
Early MCYTblr Interviews: tack-tick
today's interviewee is tack-tick, a pioneer of the "phistin" ship and DSMP fan since before the first election! below is a transcript of the interview.
Q: What was your overall time in MCYTblr like?
A: I'd say my overall time in Mcytblr could be described as finding diamonds in the rough. This fandom is defined by finding your group, sticking to them and if you're smart not really looking beyond that. I did look beyond that and saw a lot of discourse and such. I had a good time with my friends but I did get negatively affected by the discourse at times. It was kind of a toxic shithole but by God mcytblr was our shithole lol
Q: Do you remember any specific discourse that affected you, or was it just the overall culture around you?
A: As a Technoblade main, it was the discourse surrounding his character that messed with me. At the time, I was mutuals (none in the phistin palace dw guys) with some people who hated his character. I, as an anxious teenager, was very worried it would cause drama if I unfollowed them and my dash became a lot of those long negative essays about how he was an awful person and yknow the drill. It was mainly my own fault and my dash became signfigantly better once I realized no one would be offended of I unfollowed, blocked a bunch of tags, started up my own discord server and focused more on writing fanfic instead of doomscrolling. A good lesson in curating your dash of anything else. (Btw those former mutuals are fine people, we just had radically different tastes in what we liked and disliked about the Dream SMP)
Q: You mentioned the "phistin palace"-- before we get into that, would you like to explain the "phistin" rarepair itself?
A: Now we are cooking! So, Phistin is the ship of Kristin and Philza. It's main focus was on the scraps of lore that we had about their relationship which was Kristin was the immortal goddess of Death and they couldn't really see each other often but loved each other very much. I'd say it's main appeal was being one of the few ships that was just really stable in the Dream SMP compared to the Karlnapity polycule and whatever youd call Quackbur. Fun fact, I can't find the post now but if i remember correctly me and tumblr user Demonadelem helped name the pair Phistin. Although, that was ages ago so I could be misremebering
Q: Was the ship entirely within the SMP, or was it just the general ship name for the real-life couple?
A: It was both. Since Kristin didn't really stream on the dream smp, a lot of her personality had to be based on what Phil said about her and her other streams. Basically, lore about the ship was pulled from the SMP but the dynamics and personality was from both. You could play around with the dynamic if you focused on Kristin being a goddess
Q: With that basic information laid out-- what was the "phistin palace"?
A: The Phistin Palace was a discord server I founded in August of 2022. Phistin was a ship that was basically a side thing I did in fandom because my main focus was Technoblade and emerald duo stuff. I think if you're a Technoblade fan you're legally obligated to be a Philza fan and vice versa. I don't make the rules. So Phistin was something I did when I wanted a break from Technoblade as a way to practice romantic shipping.
Then Technoblade passed away and I didn't want to do anything with his character for a while so I focused completely on Phistin. However, when I tried to find any fics they were either a background ship with only one line or Kristin was already dead from a tragic disease who's main symptoms were lying daintily in bed. While I was writing my own long form Phistin focused fic, Two Birds if anyone read it, I got a comment that complimented me for "giving her an actual charatcer" and maaaan that is a very low bar to be praised for. So, I started the palace as a way to find other Phistin fans who actually cared about them beyond Kristin being angst fodder for SBI.
Q: Do you have any fond memories in specific of the "Phistin Palace" discord server?
A: Oh so many. During the Syndicate finale, three of us all liveblogged and freaked the fuck out when Kristin showed up for the first time in a minecraft skin on the server. I made on of those AI chatbot things that was popular for a bit and the bot was supposed to be the Kristin character. I asked if she had a pet and she said she has a gecko named Tim. The entire server instantly decided they would die for Tim and he's now an emote. The general chat is also named Tim Time Fucker. A mermaid AU that was made that the majority of the server contributed a lot of lore to we named it the Communist Mermaid AU because the server collectively owns it now. Many good moments there
Q: Beyond the Phistin Palace, are there any large community events that you remember/took part in, or did you mostly stick to your friend group?
A: I remember The Penis SMP of course. I never really took part in large community events but I did watch them happen. I read the Passerine chapter where Tommy died becasue my dash flipped out when that dropped. I'd also try to watch Sad-ist animatics live when I could. At most, Id make a meme during a stream that would rack up a couple hundred notes or one thousand if I was lucky A thousand was like once or twice I think
Q: You mentioned that you were also a Technoblade fan before you became more focused on Phistin-- was your experience in that side of the fandom any different?
A: It certainly had more content than Phistin did lol. I was never really in any Technoblade discords or anything but back in the day it was focused on emerald duo and being funny. or angsty. Nowadays, it's way less lively unfortunately. It's not as bad as in 2022 but Technoblade fancontent seems to be less foucsed on the character and more on memorials/remembrance. At some point, you run out of things to say and not a lot of people wanted to stay in a fandom that just felt weighed down by it all. I did leave so things could perk up someday but I don't think that's likely
Q: We've talked about the fandom and how it responds to content-- let's talk about the content itself. What were some of your favorite moments from the Dream SMP as a whole?
A: The Red Festival Technoblade stream was the first one I ever watched live so that's a good one. The stream where L'manberg getting blown up at the end of The Manberg Arc is iconic for an underrated reason. I don't know how many people remember but Phil was highly speculated to be on the Dream SMP someday. On the day of that stream, he started on his hardcore world, then stopped his stream and did his dramatic switch surprise entrance to enter the Dream SMP for the first time. Also Technoblade escaping the anvil and then killing Quackity with a toothpick was great. I've never liked watching Twitch streams on my Ipad so most of my favorite moments come from YouTube
Q: Were you sad that Phistin wasn't a more popular ship, or did you enjoy the tight-knit community?
A: I was sad Kristin kept friggin dying, the poor woman lol. Sometimes I wish it was a bit more popular but the community was nice. The main issue is Phistin stuff started tanking hard on Ao3 in terms of numbers and tended to get misstagged quite a bit
Q: You've brought up a few times that Kristin was often fridged, disregarded, or replaced (on several notable occasions, by an actual Samsung fridge). How did you feel about it? Do you think there was any particular reason for it?
A: I mean, I really don't like it but I understand it. A lot of people loved that SBI angst but also wanted to write all the SBI. So the obvious solution is to kill off Kristin for free angst and keep all the SBI in the story. Passerine is a fic i respect a lot but it also kickstarted this trend to be honest. Kristin herself also didn't physically show up in the lore a lot so it was really tricky to write her. When I first wrote her, it was intimidating because I didn't have many fics to look at as good examples.
Was it shitty and a bit sexist? Yes but I don't think sexism was the only reason. Kristin's character was in a unique situation compared to the others. I have no problem with Kristin dying in a fic. The main issue is that often came with her personality being reduced to good mom and that's it. I'm not gonna call a bunch of probably first time writers evil sexists when I know what it's like to not know how to write her and being scared you'll get her completely wrong.
Q: Since it's come up, would you mind giving a quick rundown of what exactly the fanfic "Passerine" is? (As well as any memories you have relating to it!)
A: If i'm being honest, I only read the chapter where Tommy got murked. What I know from osmosis is it's an SBI royalty AU that had some kind of meta twist at the end and it was very sad. It also got a sad-ist animatic made out of it which jesus christ I'd give for that. I tried it but the writing style was too wordy for my liking. It's mainly important for Phistin history even though Kristin wasn't in it. No, The Fridge died in it but everyone just kinda assumed it was Kristin for long enough it got the ball rolling. Also I think Niki read it on a stream
Q: Before we wrap up, is there anything else you remember about MCYTblr/the DSMP that you'd like to talk about?
A: The DSMP sure was the minecraft server of all time that is defined as a server that was doomed from the start. Whoever makes a video essay on it is gonna have a hell of a job. 10/10 experience would not recommenced. Hello to the Phistin Palace if any of you read this :D
Mcytblr is getting more chill with shipping from what I've seen. Thank God, keeping making Philza Minecraft kiss those men and his wife.
Also SUBSCRIBE TO TECHNOBLADE
28 notes · View notes
wellgoslowly · 1 year
Text
my essay on lucy's usage of "Anthony" in romantic/tense interactions with Lockwood (Spoilers for Lockwood's past!)
ok so a couple of hours ago I made a post that said "after reading so many first kiss locklyle fics and seeing so many people write a part where Lockwood says he likes it when Lucy calls him "Anthony", I've come to the conclusion that he likes it because he hasn't heard his first name said with obvious love and adoration since his parents and Jessica died- until Lucy came along. In this essay I will..." and while that idea was something I was legitimately thinking about, I wasn't really actually intending to write an essay until people showed interest in it so here's the full "why Lockwood likes it when Lucy calls him Anthony" essay.
BIG DISCLAIMER: I haven't finished reading the books yet (I don't really care about spoilers, I already know a lot just from being a part of the fandom online), but if I get anything wrong or don't include anything that might be big, please let me know!!
Ok, so we all know that Donald and Celia died when Lockwood was 6. They were (obviously) the ones who named him and the ones who gave his name meaning for the first 6 years of his life. they were the ones who said his name softly when he was a baby and trying to lull him back to sleep, they were the ones who called "Anthony!" when it was time for dinner, they were the ones who introduced him to others as "my son, Anthony". They were the ones who gave his name meaning in the first place.
I also don't know if this is stated or not, but I feel like his name probably had some significant meaning to Donald and Celia. Through a small google search, the name Anthony shows up as associated with meanings such as "He who adds", "He who stands out", "The Deep Thinker", "Very Strong", "Magnetic", "Unconventional", and "Idealistic". It's also said to come from the name of Hercules's son, Anton. Even in trying to grasp for the smallest shreds of symbolism in this, it's very obvious that his parents were trying to raise a strong, caring, and brave son.
After his parents died, the only person he really had left that called him Anthony and gave it meaning was Jessica. She was the one who would say his name with exasperation when he was being annoying, she became to one who called his name when it was time for dinner, and she was the one who would call out his name when she needed help or wanted to ask him a question. I bet she even used his name when she asked him to help her unpack the crate that contained the artifact that would end up killing her.
The common trend isn't only that the people who made his name mean something were his family- it's that the people who made his name mean something were all people who prioritized taking care of him. After the deaths of his family, he had only person that he could trust to take care of him: himself.
He isolated himself both consciously and unconsciously when he became an agent- I feel like it probably became a way to make sure that he occupied himself with an activity he never had while he was growing up (something that could be possibly devoid of possible hurtful memories of his past).
I can imagine that people started calling him by his last name because of Gravedigger Sykes- he just seems like the type of guy who would call everyone by their last names even if you asked him not to. And that was probably an escape for Lockwood- he was able to become a different person (Lockwood) and differentiate himself from the "helpless" child that he used to be (Anthony). Lockwood became not only his name, but it was a mask for him to hide his grief behind and he just forced himself to grow into it.
The closest thing that he gets to being called Anthony is when Kipps calls him "Tony", or when one of his past employees called him "Big A", which implies that either he has made it explicitly clear that he doesn't want to be referred to as Anthony whatsoever, or he took time to rebuild whatever reputation he had and rewrite the impression that people had of him, turning their idea of him as a person from being filed under "Anthony" to "Lockwood". Either way, it's something that would take time. Even if he blows off the name change as Anthony being "something only his family called him", it doesn't change the fact that for the first 10 years of his life, that was the name he responded to. I feel like if his family had lived, he'd still go by Anthony- he wouldn't need to differentiate between the persona that Lockwood provides and the core personality that Anthony offers.
Having all of this in mind, when Lucy walks into 35 Portland Row, he is immediately drawn to her. We later learn that she reminds him of his sister and how feisty and headstrong Jessica could be. This puts his recklessness when it comes to putting his life in danger to save hers, and the "you know I'd die for you" quote into a different perspective- she has become his family in more ways than one. He already blames himself for Jessica's death- he'd do anything to save Lucy, first because of her similarity to Jessica and then because he's started falling in love with her, because he doesn't want to lose someone else because of his negligence or his arrogance.
When Lucy calls him "Anthony", it's going to mean a lot to him- the last people who called him that and put any meaning behind it were his family, who loved him unconditionally, valued him beyond belief, and tried to take care of him the best that he could. And now, he has the opportunity to experience that again through this young girl who has never been taught love in her life, but somehow gets it right just by saying his first name. It's the fact that she feels like she doesn't know how to love properly, but that small gesture for someone who has loved and lost is more than enough.
It's her way of saying that she values both the person he is for the rest of the world, her boss, and her best friend (Lockwood) but that she also loves the child inside of him who just wants to love someone as fiercely as he had been loved, the promise of the person he could've been (Anthony).
holy shit I just wrote all of that. hope yall enjoyed my rant. sorry for any emotions that may come as a side effect. <3
@lucy-j-carlyle @atatanya @xamdsona @losticaruss @incorrectlco @syfygirl1998 tagging everyone who seemed interested in the essay :)
170 notes · View notes
Text
Our true feelings about race and identity are revealed in six words
Tumblr media
This is a poignant article about a project that Michele Norris started that tapped into people's thoughts about race in a profound way--using only six words. This is a gift🎁link, so anyone can read the full interactive article, even if they don't subscribe to The Washington Post. Below are some excerpts from the article:
I have always cringed when the accusations fly about someone allegedly “playing the race card.” It’s usually a proxy for “You’re making me uncomfortable, so please stop talking.” Or a diversionary tactic used to avoid having to speak about race with any kind of precision or specificity. A shorthand for “Just shut up.” And so, in 2010, I flipped the script, turning that accusatory phrase into a prompt to spark conversation. I printed 200 black postcards at my local FedEx Kinko’s on upper Wisconsin Avenue asking people to condense their thoughts on race or cultural identity into one sentence of six words. The front of the cards simply read:
Race. Your thoughts. 6 words. Please send.
I left the cards everywhere I traveled: in bookstores, in restaurants, at the information kiosks in airports, on the writing desks at all my hotels. Sometimes I snuck them inside airline in-flight magazines or left them at the sugar station at Starbucks. I hoped a few of those postcards would come back, thinking it would be worth the trouble if even a dozen people responded. Much to my surprise, strangers who stumbled on the cards would follow the instructions and use postage stamps to mail their six-word stories back to me in D.C. Since my parents were both postal workers, this gave me an extra thrill. Here I was, doing my part to support the Postal Service. Who says snail mail is dead? Half a dozen cards arrived within a week, then 12, then 20. Over time, that trickle became a tide. I have received more than 500,000 of these stories — and more arrive every day, though the vast majority of submissions now arrive through a website portal online. They have come from all 50 states and more than 100 countries. Though limited to six words, the stories are often shocking in their candor and intimacy. They reveal fear, disappointment, regret and resentment. Some are kissed by grace or triumph. A surprising number arrive in the form of a question, which suggests that many people hunger not just for answers but for permission to speak their truths. It was amazing what people could pack into such a small package:
Reason I ended a sweet relationship
Too Black for Black men’s love
Urban living has made me racist
Took 21 years to be Latina
Was considered White until after 9/11
Gay, but at least I’m White
I’m only Asian when it’s convenient
To keep the conversation going, I created a complementary website for the Race Card Project, where people could submit their six-word stories online. Over time we added two words to the submission form: “Anything else?” That changed everything. People sent in poems, essays, memos and historical documents to explain why they chose their six words. The archive came alive. It became an international forum where people could share their own stories but also learn much about life, as if it were lived by someone else.
I highly recommend reading the entire article, using the above gift link. As an olive-skinned Italian American, with curly hair, I have often felt like I am a walking Rorschach test for race. Even though I'm classified as "white" in the U.S., I've had people ask me if I'm a Latina, a Native American, Black, Egyptian, Jewish, and even a South Pacific Islander. Given my history, here are my six words on race.
A book is not it's cover.
I welcome people adding to this post their own 6 words on race.
38 notes · View notes
cringefortress2 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
I wanted to write a whole essay about this OC of mine (since he's my favourite one), but realised that there's no use for it so I'll just post some primary information. This guy is my medic OC Alaricus Weber.
A 41 year old surgeon that has a passion for science and wants to find a way to bring people back to life without using the respawn machine (since it's a property of MannCo and they don't want to share it with common people). However he doesn't want it for the good of mankind, but to just prove to himself and the world that he's really clever, since his entourage never took him seriously due to his arrogant personality. The only reason he became a mercenary was because he thought it would be easier to experiment on his collegues that are war criminals (so it's not so sad if he'll actually harm them). But it didn't go well since he unluckily decided to experiment on Finley, not knowing that the whole team is taking care of that poor pyro and that they'll make him pay.
It took Alaricus a whole Year of hard work to bring his team's respect back. And he also had to stop his experiments, even on the BLU team since... he accidentally became friends with enemy scout and didn't want him to be affected by his plans on the BLU team.
Tumblr media
The BLU team's scout name is Stephan and he's @redheadpumpkin 's OC|.
They started off as friends, but sooner or later will have a more personal relationship, even though they're in different teams and have to hide if from everyone (Scout doesn't mind others to know, but Alaricus's scared of being kicked out of the team RED for spending free time with an enemie mercenary).
That's all for now, going to post more stuff with him in the future hopefully|.
138 notes · View notes
herrscherofmagic · 3 months
Text
Maybe it's just me, but the parallels between Dr. MEI and Ruan Mei are getting to be quite concerning at this point...
so I decided to write up an essay talking about Dr. MEI and making some comparisons between her and Dr. MEI!
There are some spoilers for the new Myriad Celestia trailer featuring Ruan Mei, as well as some spoilers for some basic HI3rd Previous Era backstory, and especially spoilers for Chapter 31 EX of HI3rd.
TL;DR:
Dr. MEI and Ruan Mei both have similar origins in their interest for biology and understanding life, but it also seems that just like Dr. MEI, Ruan Mei seem to have shifted her interest towards understanding fundamental principles of the universe. In that sense, the two of them are both geniuses whose ambitions seem to include challenging the very idea of the "divine" itself.
...
Life is so colorful, but... it has nothing to do with me.
-Ruan Mei, Myriad Celestia trailer "Transcendent Ruan Tunes, Blushing Mei Blooms"
First off, I just want to be clear that I'm not going to be talking about whether or not Ruan Mei is a "Dr. MEI expy" or anything like that. I'm not trying to equate the two, but talk about their thematic/story parallels, because even if they were from different franchises, or Ruan Mei's name was totally different (heck even if her name was "John Smith" or something like that), I'd still make this post.
With that aside, there's the obvious similarity in that both are scientists, in particular both are associated with biology to an extent. The myriad trailer shows Ruan Mei being interested in biology when she was younger, and Dr. MEI also started off studying genetics and medicine.
But what interests me is that it seems like Ruan Mei is going down a similar path that Dr. MEI did, where she began curious about life and the cosmos but eventually grew to have different ambitions... including ambitions of what amounts to essentially challenging the divine.
There will be some Honkai Impact 3rd spoilers, including spoilers on the topic of Project Stigma, but I won't discuss specific events as they relate to the protagonists nor will I be covering any major story beats. Most of this will be backstory stuff, with there only being one particular spoiler towards the end regarding the true nature of Project Stigma. So consider this a blanket "spoiler warning" for the whole post, because a lot of the stuff I'll describe isn't so much specific moments in the story nor plot twists, but a lot of general background that can't really be easily blocked off into sections of spoiler-tagged content.
Slightly longer TL;DR:
Dr. MEI's character is that she's basically the Previous Era's version of the Current Era's "Raiden Mei". Similar appearance, and the name is a bit similar as well although there is a difference in the Chinese pronunciation, with Mei being "Yayi" (Chinese reading of her Japanese name, Mei) while Dr. MEI is pronounced just as "Mei". That's why MEI is spelled with all-caps in the English localization, since the difference is obvious in both pronunciation and text in Chinese but completely nonexistent in English.
Dr. MEI was a scientist and became involved with a lot of incredibly important projects in the organization Fire MOTH, but while most people pretty much adored her... she was also a very questionable figure which easily could've been one of Humanity's greatest threats if it weren't for the more pressing threat of Honkai.
The biggest parallels I see between her and Ruan Mei are the way that both of them seem to have their roots in biology, but just as the Myriad Celestia trailer hints at Ruan Mei having bigger ambitions, so too did Dr. MEI move on from a focus on biology and genetics, expanding her research to cover phenomena in physics but especially research on Honkai.
In particular, while the Myriad Celestia trailer hints that Ruan Mei may wish to become an Aeon, Dr. MEI's most ambitious project had the goal of uniting all of humanity into a singular dream, a process that would effectively destroy any sense of individuality and turn the collective human civilization of Earth into a being of pure Imaginary/Honkai energy and thought. Whilst this entity might not have been quite as powerful or universal in scale as an Aeon, relative to the scope of Dr. MEI's research (Dr. MEI being isolated to Earth, vs. Ruan Mei who can travel between worlds courtesy of the Star Rail) I think it's a fair comparison with Ruan Mei's apparent goal. If Dr. MEI were in Ruan Mei's place, I think it's very plausible she'd continue to walk down the same path. This doesn't mean that Ruan Mei will do everything that Dr. MEI did, far from it; but I do imagine there are going to be some serious parallels in what they seek to achieve and the extent to which they're willing to do questionable things to achieve it.
Now that the 4-paragraph TL;DR is done, it's time for the rest of the post; because anyone who's read one of my Honkai/Genshin essays before should know by now that I'm very much a "0 or 100" writer with no inbetween, and this is definitely the latter, lol
Also apologies for the various long texts I'm citing here; unfortunately we don't have a pretty animation with cool music to give us an overview of Dr. MEI, so I'm gonna have to go the old-school route of poring over text-based archive entries and manga pages, since that's most of what we have >.>
My goal is to provide background on Dr. MEI, as well as her relation to Dr. Mobius. The two of them are very alike and yet very different in important ways, and I think the parallels between those two as well as the potential parallels between Dr. MEI and Ruan Mei can tell us a lot about what Ruan Mei could be capable of, and just how far her ambitions may stretch. After all the background on those two HI3rd doctors, I'll describe their relation to "Project Stigma", which should serve as a good transition to talking about Ruan Mei's apparent goal of "becoming an Aeon", or something along those lines.
Tumblr media
Kevin and MEI
MEI was a human just like anyone else; she went to high school, she was a smart student, had some friends, etc. She was particularly passionate about science, often talking about the stars or physics, though biology was the interest that she seemed to follow most closely. In particular there was a scientist by the name of Dr. Mobius who she idolized, and was fortunate enough to meet at a convention.
Tumblr media
Dr. Mobius was a leading geneticist who was famous for various groundbreaking discoveries, so naturally MEI was shocked when Mobius met her and showed interest in her, even having read one of MEI's papers. Some time after their brief and curious exchange, MEI would be invited to become part of an organization by the name of Fire MOTH, and it was at this time when she discovered the true nature of Dr. Mobius' work, as well as the existence of Honkai.
Dr. Mobius was famous for her academic research on the global stage, but within the organization of Fire MOTH she was rather infamous. She had seemingly no boundaries and she was often perceived as being unethical or immoral. Mobius was far from sociable, and despite her important contributions to Fire MOTH there were certainly many people who would prefer if they never had to meet her. And of course, she was no stranger to disciplinary notices and threats from the higher-ups. Someone too valuable to dispose of, but too "dangerous" to leave to her own devices. It was this Dr. Mobius that took in MEI and worked as her superior.
One of Dr. Mobius' most notable projects was Project Stigma. The very first version of Project Stigma was initiated by her, and MEI was chosen as one of her assistants. The goal of the Project was to experiment with "stigmata", genetic modifications to humans which can grant them the power to wield Honkai energy. But if a person's body is unable to control that power, they become entirely corrupted and lose their sanity (so in comparison with HSR, kinda like being marastruck, but as a result of an experiment instead of mara). As you can imagine, this didn't exactly help Dr. Mobius' image.
Tumblr media
At first it seems that Dr. Mobius is the suspicious one here. Mobius is cunning and deceptive, while MEI is a rather kind and timid person, so while people would fear Mobius most weren't afraid of MEI at all. But Mobius herself became suspicious of MEI, noticing things about MEI that others would look past; like MEI's focus on her work and seeming impartiality towards the condition of the test subject in the above excerpt. This wouldn't be the only time we see this sort of suspicion as well, with Mobius confronting Kevin about MEI at another time:
It's about time you drop the good guy act, Kevin. I'm well aware that I've crossed the line. But what about your dear MEI? Is she any different from me? Oh, there's a difference. She's far crueler and colder than me - because she only makes rational choices. ... Pure rationality... is the real monster. You know that, don't you?
To give an example of why someone like Mobius would be suspicious of Dr. MEI, there's an excerpt of a conversation I'd like to share. The same MEI was once an assistant to Dr. Mobius would eventually rise to become one of the leading authorities of Fire MOTH, and this was not by chance, as this conversation between "X" (left unnamed to avoid spoilers) and Sakura indicates:
X: If I remember correctly, you crossed paths with the MOTHs when you were on a mission to assassinate Dr. MEI. Sakura: Yes. I wasn't holding out on it - you should be able to tell I'm no good at figuring out internal power struggles. Neither was Dr. MEI. She was awake to the tragic coming of Honkai, but she was a scientist. X: So... she wanted to pay them back in the same way with your help? Sakura: No. Dr. MEI was an unmatched genius... she's never fought that kind of battle, yet she was thinking far ahead of others. Her goal was to use me to expand her internal influence. X: I know this is usually done by force, but if she's all alone... Sakura: She had more helpers, of course. My first mission was to rebuild the covert forces. She wanted the darkest powers of the MOTHs for her own. ...To rebuild through destruction. I was officially invited after completing this mission.
This is the part where spoilers begin; the following two dialogues are from Chapter 31 EX of HI3rd.
There's a lot more I could say about Dr. MEI, but for the sake of whatever brevity is left to achieve, I'd like to go back to talking about Project Stigma. I emphasize this not just because of its importance in the story but also how inextricably linked it is with Dr. MEI. Though it was Mobius who first proposed it, Dr. MEI is the one who transformed it into something incredibly complex and world-changing beyond even what Mobius had envisioned for it:
Mobius: Fine, bickering is a waste of time. It's rare for us to get together. So this is a good time to discuss this Project Stigma that's been revised fifteen times. Seriously, MEI... ...Which side are you on? "Vill-V": Huh? Isn't she standing next to me? Mobius: Vill-V. "Vill-V": Come on, that was a joke! I know your question is serious- -That's why we need to ease up on it more than ever! ... MEI: Mobius, I only stand with civilization. Mobius: Hmph, a cliché to shut those old farts up? I'd hate to stress something as stupid as "I'm your senior"... But now that we're touching this topic... Dr. MEI, you're obliged to explain what you want to achieve with this plan. MEI: ...I see. In your opinion, I'm obsessed with Project Stigma. Mobius: Listen to yourself! You've forced me to revise this plan fifteen times! Fifteen times! MEI: As the solution with the highest success rate, it deserves to be taken seriously. We can never have too many entry points in the future, either. Mobius: Oh, really? That popular Project Ember hasn't even been written into a one-page plan. MEI: You know the attributes of that plan dictate that we implement it more specially. Mobius: Perhaps. But how can I not suspect that the other projects are only a foil to Project Stigma when they are treated so differently? "Vill-V": Um. There's one thing I don't understand. Even if that's true... isn't it you who proposed Project Stigma, Mobius? Mobius: I didn't imagine someone would see it as our only hope. MEI: It does sound ridiculous to you. I completely understand that. After all, there are many ways to redefine humanity. But Dr. Mobius... Humanity is only the cornerstone of civilization. I don't think you'll deny that humans are essentially more intelligent survival machines. We aren't fundamentally different from plants, animals, or microbes. Mobius: Heh. To be more precise, our mortal bodies are but vessels that our genes built for ourselves. So what? Whether its genetics or samsara, everyone has the potential to defy the Creator. Civilization? Compared to the miracles created by specific humans, is that thing even important? "Vill-V": But objectively speaking... the vast majority of humans can realize their potential. It'd be arrogant to measure all humans by a special case such as yourself, Dr. Mobius... MEI: Dr. Mobius. As members of the MOTHs, you and I are ultimately responsible for the whole of civilization. In that sense, compared to the life of an individual, the truth brought forth by life is a more essential existence. "Vill-V": In other words... Vill-V's talent is more important than Vill-V's identity? Ah. You can say that. Mobius: That's you. I don't plan on making another Mobius to replace myself. MEI: ...That's not important. Think about the relationship between children and parents, Dr. Mobius. Regardless of whether the inner worlds of two generations collide, human civilization is continued by the next generation. Regardless of whether their parents like it.
So, what did this "Project Stigma" transform into? The short answer would be that it basically became a Hoyoverse version of NGE's Human Instrumentality Project. The complete unification of all souls within humanity, creating a new form of existence far beyond what civilization can accomplish in the physical realm alone.
On the Imaginary Tree, worlds are created from Imaginary energy, and all life emerges from these worlds. Different beings are capable of manipulating Imaginary energy in different ways, with the smallest example being the day-to-day interactions of humans with the physical world, a step up being the Pathstriders which gain traits or power by being aligned with a Path, while the most powerful beings would be Emanators and Aeons which can use vast amounts of power to cause change in the physical world. By unifying all the "dreams" of the people on a planet, this would effectively create an entirely new world that exists within Imaginary Space but which is not bound to a physical location.
Tumblr media
If you gather all the dreams of humans, you'll get a giant resembling a planet. A desert sage named it Adam Ruhani- which means Spiritual Adam. Adam Ruhani is one of the gods, but it's extremely far away from the others... That distance is what mortals call time. It's the late eternity, and a rift that can't be crossed with logic. It can't die, think humanly, nor reproduce... It simply exists forever as the ladder leading to divine realm. ...That's the real aim of Project Stigma. Be it gory or psychedelic, physical or spiritual- they're only means, not ends. The plan is essentially a chain that ties people who can't help themselves together. We can let them go with the flow, or help them within our power. For them, joining this dream is being helped- in their dreams, they are Adams, they are gods. The real world will lose its meaning for them, while the eternal dream will become their only reality. They no longer think with time... Their dreams will be connected, which will create a true miracle that transcends finality.
This is obviously a TREMENDOUS leap from where Project Stigma began when Dr. Mobius first started experimenting with stigmata, and this is why I wanted to give the whole story about Dr. MEI's origins. Again, this is "only" on the scale of a single world. Dr. MEI was an unparalleled genius of her time, and her studies across genetics and physics allowed for the creation of what was essentially a plan to rewrite the very existence of humanity into something which can forever sustain civilization in a world threatened by the existence of Honkai.
This is why these parallels with Ruan Mei have me worried. I don't necessarily suspect that Ruan Mei will necessarily be evil, nor do I think she is going to somehow turn the entire population of the Imaginary Tree into sentient orange juice. But there are a lot of parallels between the Ruan Mei and Dr. MEI, and if Ruan Mei ends up even being remotely like Dr. MEI, that could make her a very dangerous person.
They both seem to have had a strong background in genetics and biology, with that being a major focus in Ruan Mei's design and in the Myriad Celestia trailer. But while a lot of people talk about Ruan Mei being a biologist, the trailer also hints that she has further ambitions- possibly at becoming an Aeon. It seems that Ruan Mei is moving beyond what one would achieve staying within the realm of Biology, and just like Dr. MEI, she seems to be focused on higher powers.
I think we're far from being able to determine what Ruan Mei's exact goal is so far, since "becoming an Aeon" is a pretty vague statement, but it still worries me greatly. The thought of Ruan Mei somehow becoming an Aeon isn't concerning by itself, but rather what actions she might take to achieve that goal.
I'm concerned about what the collateral damage would be, and to what extent she is willing to consider others a part of her "experiments" regardless of whether they want to participate or not. Especially because Dr. MEI was limited to what she could accomplish on Earth, while Ruan Mei appears to have access to far more resources and far more opportunities for research. As someone from the Luofu (afaik) she should also have a longer lifespan. Ruan Mei is in a good position to far exceed what Dr. MEI could accomplish... for better or for worse.
I would love to say more on this topic, but obviously we'll learn more about Ruan Mei once she releases, and throughout the story as it goes on. It took years for the full scale of Dr. MEI's plans to be revealed in HI3rd, and I don't doubt the same will be true for Ruan Mei. Perhaps Ruan Mei's ambitions will align neatly with those of the Astral Express and Stellaron Hunters, or perhaps they may become the greatest threat to sentient life across countless worlds, second only to even greater powers like Nanook. We might be forced to put an end to her experiments, or perhaps we might end up aiding her further- willingly or not.
Whatever happens, Ruan Mei is Ruan Mei and Dr. MEI is Dr. MEI. These are two different individuals of different origins and who live different lives, and the story of Ruan Mei is sure to diverge greatly from the story of Dr. MEI. The parallels between them are equally fascinating and worrying to me, but it just makes me look forward even more to Ruan Mei's role in the story.
At first I was rather dismissive of Ruan Mei, especially because I haven't even started the Swarm Disaster stuff yet. I'm sure there are details I'm missing from there, and while that usually would make me hesitant to write such a long post about her, the Myriad Celestia trailer seems clear enough with its foreshadowing (I say now, only to be proven wrong later...) that I wanted to write this up anyways. I'm definitely looking forward to Ruan Mei now, and I would love to revisit this comparison between the two later on as we learn more about her!
36 notes · View notes