#She just accepts her defeat with grace. I hate her guts but I respect the HELL out of her

[shima-draws]

Rewatching a playthrough of Danganronpa and it actually shocks me how chill Monokuma is. Even when Kyoko goes around stealing his shit and he finds Makoto with it later he's like. Yeah okay. I don't hold it against you or anything it's cool. LMAO

He has every available opportunity to just kill everyone whenever, especially when they break the rules, but he never does. I really love villains who stick to their own rules so it's fair for everyone else :")

[shouldntcryoverit]

the art of discordance

a captain rex x jedi fic during clone wars era :))

no warnings i think uh yeah hope you enjoy let me know ig...

next chapter

CHAPTER ONE -

A new general. That’s what the rookies had heard, though Rex was reluctant to believe the Jedi Council had the guts to replace Skywalker. After a good few months, the captain had learnt of his general’s unique ‘disposition’, and getting a new general to step in was what he least expected.

That was until the ship landed just outside their camp and she walked out. Even from his position sitting further back on some crates, Rex could make out the figure, identifying her as one of the jedi knights, though which one escaping him. Perhaps the rumours were true.

He watched as she walked closer, hands placed purposefully and eyes wandering over the other two jedi in front of her. The commander crossed her arms defensively, though her master seemed unbothered by her arrival, excited even.

“master?” Ahsoka coughed

“oh snips!” Skywalker bleated with the same enthusiasm he had wagered throughout the interaction “this is Jaida Reyes”

“the one from your padwan stories?” Ahsoka said with smug conviction

“my reputation precedes me” her accent was crisp and calm, though her tone radiated a coolness that Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel distanced by “though i’d rather be known for my skills with a lightsaber than helping Akin steal from Obi-wan”

Ahsoka held back a snicker as Rex walked up to the three, absent minded as he double checked his comm.

“General Skywalker, we have the new coordinates” His attention tried hard to divert to the new face.

“ah thank you” Anakin turned to his friend “this is my captain, Rex”

Rex nodded at his introduction.

“i’m the new co-general, General Reyes” her face settled into the beginnings of a smile, but faultered and remained her neutral, placid gaze.

The young jedi watched with focused eyes as they walked the short distance towards the briefing tent. Already her presence seemed to spark rumours among the men, and she watched as the younger looking troopers sent her inspecting looks. It was to be expected, honestly she never wanted a big formal introduction, but she didn’t know that her arrival would breach the news so quickly.

When they arrived, the tent was half full. An open and decorated holo map was in the centre, with at least two clones at each marked entrance point.

“Boys” Skywalker called “we have a visitor”

She rolled her eyes slightly at the flamboyant gesture, but stepped forward anyway. “I’m General Reyes, apparently Skywalker wasn’t trusted enough to run his own battalion, so i got called in” Her hands rested behind her back, but a small grin encroached her face as the snipe made a few troopers smirk.

“excuse my fellow jedi, she’s never been good at taking second place” Anakin fired back, earning another set of grins.

Reyes crossed her arms as her smiling face resumed the same placcid one she’d kept previously. “i have heard nothing but good things, and i look forward to serving with you.”

The Captain moved forward from the side of the room and clicked to change the holo map, it made a small beep as he did.

“The 212th met a settlement of droids over this side of the ridge. Last report was that they were able to move forward at the threat subsided.”

“so what does that mean for us?” Jaida’s brows furrowed as Rex layed the plans out for her. Already her mind was scoping escape routes and vantage points, but she remained seemingly unbothered by the conflict describes. Rex couldn’t help but feel unmotivated by her apparent lack of interest.

“our initial plan was to take out the last forces left on the planet after the seppie defeat, but intelligence believed the 212th accidentally did it for us”

She scoffed “so we’re here for a clean up?”

“hope you brought something fun to do” Ahsoka scorned.

The efforts were limited within the first hour. Already the men were tired of the same scenery and nothing but expansive flats. The sun stood high in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a orange hue. It wasn’t hot nor cold, everything about the mission mediocre, something Reyes particularly hated. It wasn’t just her with an annoyance, she could sense the captain’s distrust. She understood it, only hoped it wouldn’t comprimise her efficiency.

As if nothing interesting was ever going to happen, a yell from a trooper a little further ahead broke the methodical thump of the machinery.

Soon followed was the sound of gun fire. Each shot was slow, until finally the enemy was visible.

“Find cover!”

“you did say you wanted action” Anakin quipped, earning an actual chuckle from her usual pursed lips. It almost caught Rex off guard.

It was unavoidable, the lack of cover meant the men were almost completely exposed, accept for the three jedi that stepped forward, sabers ignited.

Reyes was a new sight, though she didn’t look out of place on the battle field. Her lighsaber was different, instead of the usual one blade, hers had two, both green and glowing as she tactically spun it round and round, catching blasts as if it were sport. Even her fighting style seemed new, she fought with elegance and structure, each blow purposeful and strong.

Her focus was planted entirely on the enemy ahead, so much so that she failed to notice the trooper settling down beside her.

“karking droids, never seem to die” she muttered, deflecting a few more blasts.

A muffled laugh came from beside her and the familiar blue and white etched her vision.

“I’d get used to it general” a trooper grinned

Jaida turned and grimaced, an offering of acceptance. As she refocused her mind to the task at hand, a thought slipped through.

“trooper, get those three and come with me”

Her request caught the clone beside her off guard, but he complied none the least.

The five of them rounded behind the line of defence, all the way to their republic.

“uh, sir, what are we doing?” a soldier with a hand print on his chest asked, gingerly as the new, seemingly scary, general climbed onto the side.

“if i can prime the ignition gear and jinx the starter cable, I can force it into their ranks and it’ll, with any luck,” she popped her head up with a half devilish grin “turn them all into scrap parts”

It was the trooper with the cog on his helment that relaxed first “heh, they teach you that at the temple?” he quipped

“nope” she gestured for them to cover her as she popped open the side “they taught me it on florrum” she said with a smirk, before diving back into the mess of wires and sparks.

Jaida’s plan worked, and effectively too. After a very short battle, the men finished their sweep and prepared to bid the timeless campaign fairwell.

Once back on the ship, most clones settled down for the trip back to Coruscant, and Reyes followed suit, though only subtly checking that everyone was well and okay, before continuing her sweep on the ration packs. After she deemed her check satisfactory, she retreated to the command rooms. The door slid open and revealed Rex standing over a report, absent minded to say the least. His shoulders tensed momentarily as the door swooshed, and she noticed the sour taste that seemed to flood his tongue when he met her eyes.

Jaida cleared her throat, and planted fists against the table, propping herself up.

“i’m sorry, we lost men” Jaida spoke calmly, slightly softer than her usual tone.

“with all due respect sir, you don’t seem all that bothered.” Rex mentioned.

“captain” “it’s not something i’ve grown accustomed too yet” Jaida countered, though her argument didn’t cause Rex’s stance to loosen. She cleared her throat

“i’ve lost people before, and I know what it’s like to loose someone in battle, though i don’t know what it’s like to loose your brothers. i did not want this” her tone was instructive, but it softened all the same and her true compassion fell through.

Rex paused for a moment and met her eyes again “i shouldn’t have blamed you, my apologies, general”

“relax, captain”

“it’s uh, Rex, sir” he corrected. It was when he lifted his hands to the side of his helmet that Jaida realised she had never actually seen his face. It came off, and revealed a strong jaw and cheek bones, all toned perfectly set. His eyebrows arched above his eyes, a slightly different shade of golden brown than his brothers. Of course the main difference was his hair colour, short and stark blonde.

“Jaida” her response made Rex frown ”if i have to call you by your name you have to call me by mine. Jaida” she explained

“sounds fair”

“good” she smiled for the first time, and Rex liked it.

————————————

The night after an assignment was always filled with either anecdotes or silence, a relief or devastating. Jaida watched as the men loitered around crates of rations and equipment, all with distant smiles; tired.

She had previously been stuck at the medbay after the medics caught sight of her, a few gashes on her cheeks the real cause - nothing bacta wouldn’t heal, but she learnt quickly of their head medic, Kix, and his ability to scare even Jedi into looking after themselves. After making peace with the captain, a warmth had begun to spread about her.

Now, she stood against the cold duraplast walls of the Resolute, picking aimlessly at the scarce red dirt left on her hands.

“You okay Jay?” the question broke her mindless thought.

“yeah, i am” she looked up to her friend knowingly, Anakin grinning as he always did.

“Generals!” a trooper with geometric tattoos called out “come sit with us”

She turned her head sharply and gazed over the haphazard array of lounging clones

“I ought to check the ration packs” she tried to excuse.

“you should take one sir” Another clone encourage lazily “deserve it after that rescue”

She blinked for a second, unsure if it would make more sense to agree or deny. Before she said yes or no, Anakin had already collected her on his way to his own seat in the game.

Jaida sauntered over and handed each clone a bar before taking one herself, sitting down cross leggedly just as graceful as she did anything.

“sir, i don’t like it” she spoke between chews “name’s Jaida”

“well, Jaida, general’s told us a little about your career together, got any stories?”

“many” Jaida gave the first ghost of a smile any of them had seen from her yet, however small it may have been, and lent backwards against another log “Anakin ever told you about the time we climbed to the very top of the temple walls?”

[eushiloh]

⟨ SYDNEY SWEENEY. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, SHILOH MONROE is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old DANCE MAJOR from COPENHAGEN, DENMARK has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite EMPATHIC & INDECISIVE.

howdy howdy howdy, i’m h and lemme just start by saying how excited i am to be here and bring this sweet little baby to life. i’m gonna keep this little section short and sweet because there’s HELLA info below (if you read it all, bless u sweet angels) so without further ado, let’s get into it, shall we?

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME shiloh josefine monroe NICKNAME(S) shi, sj OCCUPATION cashier at eonia theater/dance major SEXUALITY: bisexual AGE 23 DATE OF BIRTH march 3rd NATIONALITY danish RELIGION spiritual THREAT LEVEL 3/10

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

FACE CLAIM sydney sweeney HEIGHT 5′4 EYE COLOR blue HAIR COLOUR + STYLE dirty blonde, typically in messy/loose waves DOMINANT HAND left DISTINGUISHING FEATURES big, sleepy eyes, full lips, wide smile, strong dancer legs ACCENT + INTENSITY danish accent (here is a video for reference of how it sounds) TATTOO(S) she has three tattoos, they are all fairly small and dainty. one is a pair of pink ballet slippers on her ankle, then a cresent moon with clouds on the inside of her right wrist, and lastly (her biggest one) is a dream catcher along her left side of her ribs. SCAR(S) one along her right knee from when she fell off a bike as a child and cut her leg open PIERCING(S) five in each ear, she has a nose hoop but forgets about it all the time, and her belly button.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

HOMETOWN copenhagen, denmark CURRENT RESIDENCE athens, greece LANGUAGE(S) Danish/English SOCIAL CLASS middle BASIC EDUCATION high school COLLEGE EDUCATION currently a junior in college DEGREE(S) N/A PARENT #1 sofia monroe PARENT #2 n/a PET(S) white cat named cloud RAP SHEET? squeaky clean PRISON TIME? yeah right

VICES + HABITS

SMOKES? yes DRINKS? yes DRUGS? only weed VIOLENT? no ADDICTION(S)? sleeping? maybe? SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? sometimes HABIT(S) humming to herself, bouncing her leg, rubbing her lips together, not making eye contact when she speaks, cracking her knuckles HOBBIES dancing, sleeping, binge watching shows in her bed, yoga LIKES native american flute music, the color blue, soft lighting, dance clothes, sleeping in, and reality television DISLIKES loud noises, violence, people staring for too long, and heavy metal music. OBSESSION(S) dancing and sleeping, once again COMPULSION(S) leaving events early to be alone?? does that count?

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

HOUSE hypnos ZODIAC pisces ELEMENT water ANIMAL panda

P O W E R S

when it comes to her powers, the strongest that shiloh has come to obtain would be hypnokinesis , though she tries not to take advantage of it too much. trying be the key word there, because there’s something so entrancing about living in somewhat of a dream like world, which is usually what she likes to use the power for. it first started out with delving into a fantasy land, a place for her to escape to and get lost in, and slowly she found herself falling deeper and deeper into her own rabbit hole. even as a young lady, she’d always heard people refer to her as their “dream girl” and once she realized she had the ability to somewhat make some dreams come true, she couldn’t help but sink into her title. once she got the hang of it, she couldn’t help but use it to her advantage here and there, if she had a crush on somebody she would appear in their dreams more and more. a sucker for romance, it was basically how she swayed her suitors, although sometimes it was for nothing whenever she realized it was all fantasy and never reality. still, living in dream worlds was too delicious not to become wrapped up in, that it became something she mastered perfectly. whether it was astral projecting herself into other settings while she was sleeping, or into other dreams, it seemed shiloh was entirely infatuated with living in her own little dream worlds. although, something that came hand in hand with dreams were nightmares, an area that shiloh hated getting stuck in.

something that she is wanting to dip her toes into more, would be her shapeshifting abilities. the blonde has only been able to do such in a limited ability, only recently being able to do so whenever she is fully awake. it’s uncomfortable, sure, but there’s something so mesmerizing about taking on the form of something else….or better yet someone else. often there’s many eyes on her, so being able to blend into a background and garner less attention is a rush of relief for her.

the girl has also always excelled in the levitation ability aspect of her life, shiloh has always been rather light on her feet, it was almost as if she was always floating. almost a picture of grace, it brought her face to face with something she adored at a rather early age: dancing. enrolled in classes from the age of 8, shiloh practically could float across a dance floor with elegance, something she now contributes to her levitation aspect of her powers.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

with wide eyes and a soft smile, shiloh had always been rather quiet yet somehow still garnered the attention in a room. she wasn’t the type of girl to command it though, often keeping to herself, there was something magnetic and glowy about her that made her fall into the social hierarchy without really trying to. the blonde had always prided herself on being a good friend to those around her, even if they never gave her the same respect back, and soon realized that she was becoming a doormat to those around her. she kept everyone’s secrets, harboring them inside her like a vessel and remembering the little things others might have even forgotten they’d told her. soon enough, shiloh had realized she had enough dirt and ammo on those around her that if they ever did cross her, she’d use against them if need be. but luckily, thus far, the girl never had to shoot her shot to the heart just yet. a part of her always wondered if she had the guts to do it anyways, to cross those who she’d held nearest and dearest, or if she’d end up chickening out from the fear of hurting them too much. a never ending battle of right and wrong within her, she often finds herself torn and defeated by the end of the day. it makes her almost come off as flaky and aloof, although her intentions are typically anything but pure, her own overthinking tends to be her downfall. never letting anyone close enough to pick her brain, she is a beautiful mystery with expectations that had always been built upon her back. to be perfect, to be a vision of grace and poise, but sometimes she just wants to let loose and say fuck it to everything that had ever been expected of her and prove that she’s anything but a delicate flower. she has thorns that she’s never shown, and she fears if anyone gets to close, she’ll draw blood without warning.

EXTRA THINGS LOL

shiloh is on the dance team, obviously, the girl lives for dancing and when she’s not dancing....she’s probably napping. 

also she has a job at the eonia theater as a cashier, so you’ll see her little sleepy self behind the counter and sometimes sneaking into the show to sleep in the back.

her mother was the type to live vicariously through her, always putting pressure on her to be “perfect” and put together. there was even a time in her younger years whenever her mother would put her into pageants, which shiloh absolutely hated, it was too much energy towards something she hated which ultimately left her feeling even more drained than normal. in fact, any pictures remaining of that time in her life are privately stored away and she refuses to revisit that memory which she even went lengths to alter from people’s brains whenever she figured out she had that ability.

the only good thing that she found from pageants was her love of dance, something that shiloh has passionately pursued all her life. she was enrolled in ballet mostly but soon fell in love with contemporary dance, and it was something that satisfied her mother, a win-win.

even though she was accepted as someone that was a part of the “in-crowd” in high school, celeste suffers from social anxiety, instead of hanging out at parties she often finds herself slipping away and disappearing. she’s much more of a homebody than someone who enjoys going out, being peer pressured is something she often falls victim to because she’s afraid of coming off as flaky, although she tends to do so anyways due to her disappearing acts.

the relationship she has with her mother is strained, because while she loves her mom, the constant pressure to “perform” and the way her mother sort of pushed her and talked so highly of her has her nervous to disappoint those around her. she constantly feels as if she has to be some sort of social butterfly, when the idea of getting close to people terrifies her, leaving her in a never-ending cycle of what she SHOULD be and what she WANTS to be.

speaking of relationships, most of celeste’s tend to fizzle out quickly once her partners discover she’s not all that they dreamt her up to be. it could be her fault, inserting herself into people’s dreams to learn more about them, that most of her relationships die out after the honeymoon phase...making her fear commitment all together.

she’s a pisces, because....well, obviously.

shiloh is bisexual, although she is a little nervous about dating women seeing as her mother wouldn’t quite understand, most of her public relationships have been exclusively with men due to her fear of disappointing her mother.

[queakenstein]

If you're still in the mood... how about a lovely Zelda in denial of her feelings for Link and Link trying to convince her that it's okay for them to be in love. Thank you!

Simple enough, I think I can manage this one. :P You weren’t specific (and my fics usually end up being more “general” Zelink anyway) so I’ll just write and see what we come up with.

(Literally writing this right I after I finished this… got way longer than I intended and I’m sorry if the last part seemed rushed. I wanted to give it an ending and not just… leave it in drafts. Drafts for me is like a fic cemetery.)

The morning hours are her favorite. The quiet still shuffle of the dawn bringing out the sellers far below in the marketplace.  The light hints of sunrise peaking out from beyond the dangerous points of Death Mountain. There’s calm and routine to the mornings. Zelda brushes her fingers through her brunette locks and hums a tune she recalls from her childhood. Her robe doesn’t entirely protect her from the chilly air but she likes the cold too.

Sipping her tea, the Queen strolls back into her chambers. The flicker of the candles she’s lit cast strange shadows along her walls. She debates for a moment on how smart it would be to curl into the warmth of her covers. It has been a long time since she’s taken a rest day.

So long, in fact, that her council has been urging her to take a vacation. 

Zelda doesn’t understand vacations. You travel several days, attempt to rest without worrying about your kingdom for just a few and then spend longer getting back. Provided the weather conditions remain favorable, you may enjoy a few hours of respite from the rigors of ruler-ship. The Queen settles into a chair and continues to muse on the topic. The Zora have offered her an invitation and the Gorons. She’s no fool. She would end up in delegations with their respective leaders. Other countries have offered a trip into their borders as well.

Marriage and trade talks. Unions and such.

Zelda sighs. Despite the sugar, her tea tastes bitter. “Nayru, help me through this day. I have already stressed myself out.” With her morning on it’s way to mental ruin, she gets dressed and exits her rooms.

She attends her meetings, attends to the needs of her people and oversees what all cries for her attention. All different from previous days but leading to the same “grey” feeling that’s been haunting her awareness. 

“Zelda!” 

She turns and a the smirk at the familiar face of Hyrule’s Hero. “Link, I’m beginning to think that you enjoy adding fuel to the fire.”

“Fire?” He laughs as he catches onto her meaning. “Ah, you mean our sordid love affair?” He shrugs. “It feels odd to call you by anything other than your name when we’re talking casually.” He’s dressed in lighter armor but his sword remains attached to his hip. Out of habit, his left palm rests on the pommel and he straightens a bit. “Does it offend you?”

She should tell him yes. “No.” She smiles, softly. “Just address me by my proper title when it is… less private.” They’re standing in an open hallway and the servants are snickering somewhere close by. Zelda chooses to ignore them and focus on the bright spot of her day. “I saw your request for leave cross my desk this morning. I was surprised that you’ve requested it so immediately. Is everything all right back in Ordon?”

He grins. Actually, he beams and Zelda finds that the chill of the day dissipates with it. “Just fine! Mayor Bo sent word that Ilia’s gone into labor. I reckon that the baby should be here by the time I should arrive.”

“I worried it might be something more grave.” She smiles with him. Happy to partake in his excitement. “I know how much your friend means to you. You’ll have my permission, of course.” Something heavy falls into the pit of her gut. “Two weeks will be a long time without you at the Castle.”

Link nods and leans against the wall. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to see my old town though. I miss my family there and Ilia’s like the sister I never had. Need to know if I’ve got a niece or nephew to spoil.”

“I recall you betting with Sir Rusl on it being a girl.” Zelda’s tone turns amused and she steps closer to speak a bit more quietly. “I also heard that you are a terrible gambler.”

He laughs. “I prefer ‘losing with grace’ but, yes, I frequently lose bets.” He winks. “Why, fancy a wager?”

“And what would we bet on?” She knows it’s a terrible vice but the prospect of playing against the hero is too tempting. Besides, she has so few vices that she dismisses the small amount of guilt that assails her. 

Link leans closer and motions with his hand for her to do so too. “I bet,” he whispers, conspiratorially, “I can still out shoot you at the archery range.”

“Implying that you were able to before?” She smirks. They have always been tied but, though she hates to admit it, she hasn’t been able to practice as much as she would like. “So, what will I get when you lose?”

He grins. “I’ll bring you back one of those beautiful baskets that Uli makes… and, when I win, you have to come on my trip with me.”

His request startles her and she gasps. “T-That’s–”

“You need a break. We both know that and I know you don’t want to travel far from Hyrule. Ordon is just outside the limits. We’re even governed by you. It will be close enough to give you comfort and,” He continues through all of her attempts at derailing his reasons, “peaceful to give you the rest you need.” He leans back and shrugs. “Besides, if you’re so sure you will win… what’s there to lose, Zelda?”

“You planned this.” She glares at him. Of all everyone that has been urging her to take a break, Link has been loudest. He is her closest friend, however, and it is not unusual for him to resort to tricks to help her relax more. He has done this once before but the sparring had to stop once he decided he didn’t have to be so gentle with her anymore. Bruises were not a good look for a Queen. Zelda missed their fights. 

He shrugs and hitches a thumb in the general direction of their archery field. “Only you can help decide the outcome.”

“Fine. Challenge accepted.”

She loses after nearly three hours of tying. The small crowd that had gathered raises a ruckus after her defeat and she finds herself flushed at the thought of so many seeing it. Link celebrates regardless of her red face. He threatens to make the arrow he split down the middle a gift for her next birthday then laughs when she scowls at him.

“A terrible loser, eh, Your Highness?” She snatches the arrow from his hand and snaps it with her fingers. Link only grins wider. “So, will you need helping packing or can you handle that?” She stalks away from him and wonders if all those rumors about the hero being terrible at bets meant he was a sore winner. Not a sore loser.

She continues on the rest of her day. Thankfully, it proved quiet and, thankfully, her counselors took the news of her sudden vacation with grace. Servants arrived to help her pack. She’s a little bewildered at the thought that she will away from the castle for two weeks and spends at least half the time writing down contingency plans should anything go wrong in her absence. She knows she can make it back in a day if she rode hard. Yet, despite all of her worrying, she finds that she looks forward to the trip. Link has always been a great companion to her.

They leave in the morning and he’s quiet while they ride.

“Something on your mind, Link?”

“Hm?” His eyes look confused then brighten from the haze of a daydream. “No, nothing important. Just thinking about how it’s been a long while since I just… rode.” A wild expression sets on his face. “Think you’re up for a gallop?” He says it like it’s a request but his tone implies a challenge. 

Zelda urges her steed ahead of his and races away with a smile. Epona does not take long to catch up. They enjoy the thrill of the race. Neither knowing where the finish line is or if there even is one. All Zelda knows is that there’s a fire surging through her veins and just a few hours away from the Castle has washed away the grey that’s soaked into her mind.

They set up camp after dusk hits. Link gets a fire going and heats up the stew the kitchens sent them with. “Anxiety set in yet?”

“I have not thought about the Castle much since we first left.” She admits, accepting the wooden bowl from him. They sit close together against a log while the fire crackles before them. “You have had me playing too many of your silly games.”

“They help pass the time.” Link rolls his eyes. Though he’s relaxed in attitude, Zelda can tell his alert. It took a lot of convincing on his part to allow just the two of them on this journey. Many seem to forget his prowess with weaponry and why he is her General. “You’re rather handy with a slingshot.”

“I would rather that skill then being an expert in insects.”

He makes a face. “Listen, when you grow up in the middle of a forest like I have then you learn about bugs. Can’t be helped that Her Highness is too good for…” He stops, scrunches his nose in though and blurts, “Bug-ology.”

“Entomology.” She corrects and laughs when he sticks his tongue out at her. “Ever the serious and terrifying General.”

“Beats being Queen Stone Face the Wise Ass.” He jibs back and continues his stance as a mature adult that solves his problem by making faces at them. “You’re just mad because I’m finally the expert on something that you know nothing about.”

“I think we both know that this is about.” She says, wondering why her cheeks hurt and realizing it’s because she hasn’t smiled like this in ages.

He glares, playfully. “Go on. Tell me what you think this is about.”

“Last week. The Charity Banquet.” Zelda supplies this and nods her head. She finishes her meal and places the dish next to her. With her now empty hand, she pantomimes holding a wine glass and giggles. She pushes back the silly feeling that rushes over at the sound of her own giggles. “You took a sip of the Holodrum Wine and almost choked!”

“It was awful, Zelda!” Link tosses his bowl into hers and groans. “I’m not a fan of wine but, there we were, we were all dressed up–” He grabs at his tunic and pulls on it for emphasis, “I wore my formal attire. Formal–” Link continues his rant by shaking his finger at her. “And you’re an awful friend that did not warn me that their wine tastes like dish water!”

“No, it did no–”

“Fermented dish water!” His energy collapses and he drop back to rest against the log. Link smiles, gently, after a moment. “I tried so hard to be mad at you for laughing at me.”

“I recall that you were.” Zelda rests her head on her knees and tilts her head so that she can look at him. The fire casts fascinating light across the Hero’s face. She wishes she knew how to draw so that she could capture how he looks at this moment. 

He scratches his nose then meets her gaze. “Just for a second. You’re laughter made up for it.”  He reaches out and lays his palm across her hands which are locked together around her shin. “I miss seeing you… and… I’m glad you came.”

Zelda chooses to ignore the weight hidden in his words. She has done so many times but there’s an intimacy between them at this moment that does not allow her to be flippant. So, she chooses honesty. “I miss you too… and I’m glad I lost the bet.” She expects the rest of the night to be heavy. Keeps waiting for him to say something else… but he doesn’t. Eventually, they fall asleep.

By the next afternoon they arrive. The town erupts into chaos the moment they realize Link is there. Then, they recognize her. Collectively, the town scolds him for not telling him the Queen would be with him then sets to work finding accommodations for them while Link tries to tell them he’s just going to stay at his house with her. Some noise about it “not being proper” and off the villagers go.

Mayor Bo approaches with his usual gust-o and Link starts to get caught up on the many things he’s missed that might not have made it into his letters. Zelda gets over the awkwardness of being both fussed over and ignored. She finds she is content listening to the two men chat before mentioning that she wants to explore.

Link shrugs. “It’s safe here. Go on.” He gives her a brief layout of the village and then steps into the newest looking house in the vicinity. Zelda assumes it’s Ilia’s though she is not absolutely sure.

She’s familiar with most of the residents. She’s been here once before to honor the home from whence the Hero came but that was nearly seven years ago. She follows the small river and relaxes there. Since she was instructed to allow Fado to take her steed, she is somewhat restless now that there seems to be nothing for her to do. 

Beth, one of the children taken during the invasion, runs into her and decides to take her on a more personalized tour. The young girl is more of a young woman at fifteen and she’s matured since Zelda first met her. She holds a conversation well and expresses interest in what Zelda’s role as Queen fully consists of. Zelda recalls after a brief time that King Ralis mentioned fancying the girl.

“Link’s told me before that he’d come back and take all the old village kids traveling around Hyrule. He never seems to have the time though.” Beth ties her long brown hair back and snorts. “I think he, honestly, forgets though, ya know?”

“Have you visited Zora Doman now that you are older?” Zelda asks, dipping her feet into the water as the village girl did. “I have heard Ralis mention you before, you know. I’m sure you and the other boys would be welcome if you managed the journey on your own.”

Beth blushes and shakes her head. “I have and Ralis is… very sweet.” She shuffles as much as one can while sitting. “He even sent guards down to help us. Link was going to come to but… I guess something came up.”

“I am… sorry if it seems like I have stolen away your friend.”

“Oh. no! Don’t be, My Lady– Queen!” The teenager cups her face in her hands. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be so friendly. It’s hard because you’re not dressed up like a Queen and you’re just walking around our village and–”

“Zelda is fine.”

“OH.” Beth groans and takes a moment to calm down. After a few more apologies and more reassurances from Zelda, she continues. “Sorry. I… We’re not really used to titles around here. Or Queens for that matter” She shrugs. “Bo is getting ready to retire and, even with how long he’s been Mayor, we don’t really call him Mayor Bo all the time.” She gently bumps the other woman’s shoulder. “But, uh, don’t you worry about stealing Link away. I doubt he could be apart from you if he tried.”

Zelda’s face must pale or, rather, she feels like all the blood rushes out of her. “I’m sorry?”

Beth laughs at her expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Whatever is between the two of you is private… but, I know Link loves you and if being in that Castle with you is what makes him happy. Well, that’s all we care about here.” The teenager stands and dusts herself off. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything… it’s just… the way he talks about you in his letters gave it away.” She winks and Zelda wonders how the girl could mistake her paleness for shock of a secret getting out when it’s… plain shock. “I have to go help my momma close up shop. I’ll let Link know where you are.”

She doesn’t walk far before Zelda hears the girl tell the Hero that the Queen is around the corner. They speak in hushed voiced before Zelda makes out a more tense serious of undecipherable words come from the young man. His boots steps crunch on the ground behind her.

“So.” He clears his throat. “I see Beth gave you a tour….”

“You write about me in your letters? To everyone or just Beth?” Zelda’s voice sounds odd in her own ears. She’s still trying to process the sudden fact that this man is in love with her. Her best friend is in love with her. Link is in love with her.

He makes a frustrated noise and drops down next to her. “Yes.” Link tries to capture her eyes in his but she avoids the attempt. “Zelda… I…” His fists clench and unclench. She hasn’t seen him this upset in a long time. “Well, this certainly isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” He frowns. “And no. Not to Beth. To Ilia… but the villagers… they’re close and–”

“It’s… true then?”

He stares at her. “What’s true?” Link growls and his hands can’t seem to make up there mind of whether they want to grab hers or not. “That I love you?” He laughs. “No point in denying it now though I’ll have you know that I had something much more romantic planned than–”

“You know this…” She begins the sentence and makes the mistake of looking into his eyes. It began as a rejection and dies in her throat. Too late, she realizes, that he knows what she is going to say before she even finishes. “Link… I’m…”

“The Queen.” He states it, factually, and there’s a resilience in his gaze that she wasn’t expecting to find. She thought she would see sadness or longing but not refusal. “And I used to be a village boy. Now, I’m your General and as much as I make a fool of myself… I am respected by your peers… and…” He finally takes her hand and it’s warm holding hers. “I do. I love you and if…” He swallows and smiles, gently. “And if you want to make this work. I think we can.”

She opens her mouth and tells herself to be softer with her words. Soft is not generally how she goes about things so, instead, she speaks to him like she always has. Honestly. “I haven’t even thought of the possibility of… us working. I don’t let myself because that is a hard road we would travel–”

“We’ve been though worse.”

“And… this is sudden.”

“He continues, calmly, and Zelda finds she’s annoyed that he’s the calm one. “I’m not asking you to marry me…” He leaves the sentence unfinished but then shrugs. “Yet.” Link squeezes her hand. “I’m only asking that you consider it.”

“I do not want to hurt you and you might get hurt, Link.” Zelda sighs and glares into the water. “I-I admit that… I care for you and your friendship… it means the world to me. I just….” She turns back to him and sees hurt. “So many things could go wrong.” 

“Well.” He releases her hand and stands up. “I’ll admit, I wanted this to go differently… still, I don’t want to ruin our friendship so if that’s how you feel then I will respect that.” He reaches out to help her stand.

“I don’t know how to feel!” She exclaims and bats his hand away. “It’s not easy for me to just say ‘yes, I love you’ or ‘no, I don’t’… there’s so many things that I would have to take into consideration.” She runs her fingers through her hair and shakes her head. “I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t… but… I–” Tears of frustration sprung to her eyes.

Link frowns, kneels down and takes her face into his hands. “If you were just you. Just Zelda. No titles or anything… Do you think you could tell me how you feel?” He smiles. “Honestly.” He thumbs away the tears.

Honesty. She takes a breath and answers, shakily. “If we were just two ordinary people then I would tell you… I would tell you that I adore you. That… I see you in heavy romantic light… and that, could, turn into love.” She swallows. “That I could… love you.”

Link nods and smiles, gently. So gently. “So, what if we took these two weeks to be just Link and Zelda? And if we enjoy our time as just us… and we talk about the complications of our titles… we see if this works?”

“That’s a gamble.”

“I know.” He smirks. “Kiss for good luck?”

She takes a breath. She ignores that voice in the back of her head telling her everything that could go wrong and, instead, flicks him in the nose. “I’m not ready to kiss you. I’m too upset.”

He grins and helps pull her to her feet. “Then let’s go back to my house and get ready for tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” She blinks at him, feeling shaky still after the emotional adventure she’s still experiencing. 

Link shrugs. “The village wants to feed us and I promised them that I would make a couple pies. I thought you might want to help.” He winks. “And I bet you’ll only burn one.”

She scowls at him. “I have never burnt a pie.”

“Prove it.”

They continue like this for the next three days.When not visiting with Ilia and the baby, they take turns challenging each other to various contests and, even getting the village in one it, before they realize that they’re avoiding the topic. When they settle down into his old home on the fourth night, Zelda leans her head against his shoulder and tells him how much she’s enjoyed spending time with him. How her thoughts haven’t drifted to Hyrule once since she arrived. Some things may have been stressful but she feels relaxed. She tells him that she would like them to do something slower.

He suggests walking to Ordon Spring and, though the night is chill, she agrees. They talk about their childhoods as they have before and all manner of words fall freely between them. As just a man and a woman, Zelda is happy to feel his warm hand tangle their fingers together. She tries not to think about what being a Queen would mean for this. The Spirit does not awaken when they arrive, Link seemed to think that it would but she’s content to lie and watch the stars with him. 

“You know, you would have to clean up your manners… if you were to pursue me.” She murmurs and yet her voice still sounds loud. “You would need to learn the Lords names and not give them numbers to refer to them by.”

“I’m willing to do that.”

“And there might be a backlash. You… are a commoner. Blood matters a lot to royals.”

“If they want to enact old laws upon a potential marriage then I shall do the same.” He smirks. “Trial by Combat always seemed romantic.”

Zelda scowls. “Til death, Link.”

He glances at her and smalls. “Practicing your vows already? My, my.” He laughs when she smacks him, lightly, with the back of her hand. He rolls to his side so that he can look down into her eyes. “I am willing to follow your lead. Whatever is expected, I will try to meet that. I can’t promise perfection… but…” He kisses the back of her hand. “I promise that I…” Link clears his throat. “Will love you through it all.”

“Link?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m ready for you to kiss me now.”

And for better or for worse, he does and Zelda realizes that there’s no going back from this. His lips are soft and his body is warm as he drags her closer. She sighs and doesn’t dare count the odds stacked against them. Gambling is a terrible vice.

[ororowrites]

A T’Challa Fic: Keisha’s Way (ch. 4)

It’s been a minute, but I’m finally updating. I hope I can be more consistent. I’m prepping for a doctoral program and it’s kicking my ass.

Catch up on previous chapters: Keisha’s Way Series

When Kevin Lane popped up in any situation, time stood still. His presence alone was toxic. He never smiled and his serious demeanor was quite intimidating. Especially to his children and wife who had to deal with him on a day to day basis.

Mr. Lane didn’t even take the time to meet T’Challa before asking him to leave. Confused and embarrassed, Keisha opened her apartment door to find Naomi napping on her couch.

“Naomi, get up,” he yelled, shaking the young woman awake. “She comes down here to visit you and you’re out with some boy?”

Keisha was fuming. Hate was a strong word but it fit the way she felt about her father. For as long as she could remember, he was an evil man. Well-respected by many, but cruel to the people he was supposed to love and protect.

“Naomi, pack your shit and let’s go,” Kevin repeated, grabbing his youngest daughter’s arm and pulling her up from the couch.

“Hey, you don’t need to touch her like that,” Keisha stepped in between the two, taking a protective stance in front of her sister. “She’s fine where she is, no need to leave until she’s ready.”

“I’m the parent, move Keisha,” the father said through clenched teeth. He and Keisha were alike in many ways. They were both stubborn and probably brave in moments when they should back down. “This is my child. She’s coming home, period.”

“No, she’s staying here as long as she pleases. You can’t pop up in my place with orders,” Keisha replied, not budging. “What are you doing here anyway? You didn’t call and mama didn’t say anything about you stopping by.”

“Keisha it’s okay, I’ll go,” Naomi stated, hanging her head. Seeing how much her father despised her sister hurt. It was one thing she didn’t understand. In order to keep slight peace, Naomi agreed to return to California with her father. “Let me go pack my things.”

Naomi disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her father and sister alone. Kevin Lane turned his attention back to Keisha, “I’m the parent. Remember that,” he spat.

Within five minutes, Naomi was packed and walking out the door.

Since her father’s surprise visit, Keisha hadn’t talked to T’Challa. For one, she was embarrassed about how her father treated him. Plus, she didn’t want to open up about their toxic relationship and how home didn’t feel like home. She closed herself off and focused on school and her new job at the bookstore near campus.

Days went by before Damita showed up outside Keisha’s apartment, demanding answers about why she was being anti-social. Damita knew Keisha wasn’t particularly close with her parents, but she didn’t know the extent of their damaged relationships.

“So you just gone be a ghost now? Where have you been,” Damita questioned, barging into the apartment. “T’Challa said he hasn’t talked to you since the other night? He spook you or something?” The woman could talk a mile a minute and questions were flying out of her mouth like a used car salesman.

“I’ve been busy,” Keisha sighed, closing the door behind Damita. “Trying to stay on top this work and I started a new job.” One thing about Damita was her ability to see through bullshit and Keisha knew that.

“Is it a coincidence that your daddy was here and now you’re acting funny,” Damita pressed, tilting her head. “Because when that nigga pops up, you start trippin out.”

It was true. Kevin had that much of an effect on his daughter. Keisha closed herself off from the rest of the world to soak in her sorrows and pain alone. She hated when people felt sorry for her which is why Damita only knew vague details about Keisha’s life at home.

“I’m good, D,” Keisha replied, returning to the kitchen to grab her cup of Ramen from the microwave. “He was stopping by to get Naomi and tripped out about me going out while she was here. No big deal.”

“If it was no big deal, why you closing yourself up in this small ass apartment,” the friend pressed. “Nobody has heard from you in days but it’s no big deal.  I’m not trying to get up in your business but what’s going on? For real, for real?”

Clearly, Damita wasn’t giving up and Keisha was running out of excuses. Feeling defeated, Keisha plopped down on the sofa with her noodles. Her appetite had vanished within a matter of three minutes.

“My daddy isn’t dad of the year and he came here trippin’ like he normally does when it comes to me. It’s a lot to explain and I honestly don’t have the energy to get into it right now. It’s draining,” Keisha admitted. “That man hates my guts because I’m an ‘embarrassment’ to the family.”

“Is there anything I need to do? He isn’t putting his hands on you is he? Is your sister okay,” Damita questioned, ready to defend her best friend if she was called upon.

Keisha shook her head, “No. I’d rather he hit my ass. At least then I’d know how much he hates my existence. Naomi is in a better position than I ever was, but if she becomes someone other than what they want, she’s dead to them too.”

The entire situation with her parents had shaped Keisha into who she was currently. What they called tough love was emotional abuse. Abuse that Keisha had soaked up and carried into her adult life.When it came to the men she chose to welcome into her life or what she allowed, it all went back to how she was treated by her father.

The Lanes’ were the black, wealthy family that lived in predominately white neighborhoods. They played golf with the Teds and Johns of the Country Club, while sending their children to top ranked high schools, and joined every prestigious club around the city. Everything appeared perfect, but to the people living within the Lane household. Kevin was unfaithful, Gina was a perfectionist who never accepted anything outside perfection and their two daughters were scarred by their parents.

When Keisha was 15-years-old, she got pregnant by one of the boys outside of their cookie cutter neighborhood. Her parents immediately forced her to get an abortion to avoid the embarrassment of having a teenage mom. Dr. Kevin Lane had too much to lose as far as his reputation. Since then, Keisha’s parents had been distant and often negligent of their eldest daughter.

“Girl, I’m sorry,” Damita shook her head, sadness etched on her features. “That’s fucked up.” The two fell silent for a few seconds before Damita added, “You know I’m here for you whenever you need me. And I mean that.”

“Thanks D, glad I have someone in my corner,” Keisha said, resting her head on Damita’s shoulder.

Like many times before, Keisha had a weak moment and used the wrong people to cure it. Calling her ex-boyfriend Rashad was never a good idea but she resorted to it anyway.

Rashad wasted no time being the cocky brotha he was from day one. Donning a Pan-African flag t-shirt, jeans and gold-rimmed glasses, he looked like he was about to stomp the yard at any second.

“Wassup baby,” he crooned, biting his lip as he entered the apartment. Keisha’s gaze followed his to her breasts before she closed the door behind them.

“Hey Shad,” she smiled meekly. He knew what she had called him for and somehow he didn’t mind being a booty call.

“I’m shocked you called me, ma. Been acting like you too good for a dude,” Rashad replied, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. “Good to see you though.”

“Dude, shut up. Nobody is acting too good for your ass,” Keisha answered, rolling her eyes at the statement. “Maybe I didn’t want your behind in my space at the moment.”

“Oh, really,” Rashad quizzed, his gold tooth gleaming against his white teeth. “What changed your mind?”

“Needed company.” And dick. “You want a soda or anything,” Keisha offered, not wanting to seem too obvious with her need for a little TLC.

“Yeah, I’ll take one,” he answered, making himself comfortable on the couch. He sat with his legs wide, watching Keisha move around the kitchen. “That ass is looking real fat, ma.”

“Is that the first thing you see when you come around me?” Knowing the answer to this question, Keisha didn’t even give Rashad time to answer. “Anything else you want while I’m in here? Honey bun, chips?”

“Nah, the soda is good.”

A few minutes later, Keisha joined Rashad on the couch where they watched the new episode of Martin. Just a couple of minutes into the episode, Rashad was already resting his hand on her upper thigh. His fingers massaged the soft flesh, sending tiny shocks to Keisha’s center. She glanced over at her ex-lover. He wasn’t too bad on the eyes, she supposed. Those thick lips and deep dimples were her weakness. Sensing he was being watched, Rashad licked his lips while keeping his eyes on the TV. His hand moved to the inside of Keisha’s thigh, the heat from her pussy gracing his fingers. He spent a few seconds massaging the skin there before finally moved between her thighs.

The thin fabric of her boy shorts soaked immediately and it was no secret Rashad’s simple touch was the cause. Rashad turned his attention to his hand, then to Keisha’s face as she closed her eyes in anticipation. “So this is what you called me over for, huh,” he teased, his index finger pushing the thin fabric to the side. Moisture hit his fingers, an indication that he was doing his job simply by just being there.

Dipping his fingers inside her thick folds, Rashad watched Keisha’s expression go from solemn to one of pleasure. Her lips parted as he parted her lower ones, dipping his fingers in and out of the heated flesh. Sounds of her arousal became background noise, Martin’s boisterous laughter echoing against the walls of the living room.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Keisha leaned over, her lips meeting Rashad’s in a desperate lip-lock. They were never the romantic couple, so kisses always felt like they would lead to fucking. And that’s all they ever were. Fuck buddies with a loose title of boyfriend/girlfriend.

Rashad pulled Keisha onto his lap as she went straight for his belt buckle. “Shit, baby,” Rashad grunted, pushing Keisha’s shorts to the side. “You wet as fuck, girl.”

“Mmmmhhhm,” she hummed, freeing Rashad’s length from the baggy denim. Lining it up with her dripping entrance, Keisha slowly sunk down. It had clearly been awhile, causing Keisha to pause a second to adjust to Rashad’s girth. “Fuck,” she moaned when Rashad pushed his hips up, forcing Keisha to take all of him.

“Yeah, you ain’t used to this anymore,” Rashad bragged, roughly gripping Keisha’s hips when she began to grind. “Still ride like a pro.”

She wasn’t even bothered by the random slaps to her ass and Rashad trying to make conversation. He was a big talker during sex and it used to annoy Keisha to no end. “And you still talk too  much,” she added, rolling her hips in a circle like Rashad liked.

“Shiiit,” he cussed, guiding her movements with his hands. When she added a slight bounced to her ride, he grunted again. “I can’t help it when I’m messing with a woman like you.”

“Is that right,” Keisha hummed, her voice quivering. Keisha’s cockiness was quickly put to rest when Rashad reached between her legs and found her clit with his index and middle fingers. That earned him a moan from Keisha who was was trying to keep her thighs from burning. “Fuck, Shad,” she moaned, letting her head fall back and expose her neck to Rashad’s lips. He sucked at the sensitive skin, marking what he thought was his territory.

Pulling away, Rashad bit down on his bottom lip as he sat back and let Keisha give him a show. Her eyes were still shut, while her mouth fell open in satisfaction and her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath. “Come on, girl. I know that ass is about to cum,” he teased, rubbing her clit even faster, the friction causing her to double over.

The thumping between her legs seemed to linger when she climbed off Rashad’s lap and slid to her knees. Taking him in her mouth, she finished him off for the night.

No longer needing his company, Keisha hinted at the fact she had work early in the morning. Rashad took the clue and grabbed his keys before heading towards the door.

“Page me,” he questioned, stopping the door from shutting with his foot.

“Yeah, I’ll page- T’Challa,” Keisha’s eyes widened when she saw the Prince round the corner to her apartment.

“What,” Rashad raised a brow, until his eyes fell on the man who held such a royal name.

Standing there with flowers and a bag of food in his hand, T’Challa gazed back and forth between the two. “Oh, looks like I’m interrupting something,” he stated, his expression one of disappointment and confusion. “Um, I’ll go.”

“T’Challa,” Keisha groaned, watching her friend turn his back and retreat down the hall.

“Who the fuck is that,” Rashad spat.

“Shut up, nigga,” she replied, slamming the door in his face. Hurting T’Challa was never her intention. But, once again her selfishness and terrible way of coping, got in the way.

“Dammit,” she cussed, slapping the door.

Taglist: @heyauntieeee @theunsweetenedtruth @sisterwifeudaku @90sinspiredgirl @airis-paris14 @iliketowrite1996 @mufasathatniggatho @bidibidibombaclaat

If you want to be added, let me know.

[sol1056]

i was 5 when 9/11 happened and vld still kind of puts me off. it wasn't so bad before season 3, and ESPECIALLY not before season 4, but at some point i decided to watch golion and even though golion is seemingly more morally simplistic the fact that it had an episode where a "beastman" was a person with feelings who the heroes acknowledged the personhood of and gave a funeral. that i can't see that happening in vld- it left me feeling like our heroes now lack something essential.

“Morally simplistic”, eh. 

Reminds me of going to see Wrinkle in Time, and as we left, a couple in front of us was complaining about how the big showdown felt really simple. Not easy, just… it didn’t pivot on a fight scene, but on Meg being able to accept her faults and that she loves her brother (and in return) not in spite of her faults, but in some ways because of them. 

Morally, pretty simple. But on the other hand, we live in a time when maybe that kind of story is needed more than ever: where love can break apart hate, where genuine and heartfelt hope can bring light to the darkest corners of our world. I’d definitely say that moral – or ethical, if you prefer – goodness also requires that we acknowledge the fundamental humanity of all, even those who are our enemies. And yes, VLD is lacking that essential element.

There’s a post going around about Okoye (Black Panther) that’s relevant, here. To quote some of it: 

I have never so perfectly and purely seen a Paladin depicted in a movie as I saw in Okoye. Lawful good to her core. Pure, unvarnished loyalty to Wakanda and her people evident in every goddamned motion. Dignified, graceful, reverent respect for the rules of her country and its greater good.

…the core of the Paladin is ‘there is something greater than I, and I will sacrifice everything for it’, and it was beautiful to not only see that happen on screen but see her proved right, see her win, in one case by not even raising her weapon. She stood firm in her faith and the narrative said yes, it said this is just, it said your very faith will protect you from harm. And she’s not seen as hard or cold edged weapon for that. The imagery around her in that moment is more like a saint or an angel, glowing and reaching out a peaceful hand to a symbol of one of the tribes of her country. Her country loves her back.

When I reblogged this, I added @lizziegoneastray​‘s tag because it strikes me as a crucial ingredient: “lawful good isn’t really a valid alignment if the law is not good.” That is, an unjust cause cannot, by definition, engender paladins no matter the strength of their faith nor their loyalty to the cause: that for which they fight must also be ethically and morally valid. 

The protagonists in VLD are not immoral – aware of right and wrong, and choosing wrong anyway – but worse: they’re amoral. The narrative has no line in the sand that’s a step too far. There’s just no line, at all.

Our so-called heroes have fought living beings – named beings, even – and cheered at their opponents’ deaths. Not once have any reflected that their opponents may have been unwilling pawns; the necessity of defeating an opponent (sometimes to the death) does not change the basic human morality of at least giving a moment’s thought to that horrible cost.    

It is not heroic to cheer when another sacrifices his life for you, and it’s practically the opposite of heroic to demand another effectively sacrifice himself to achieve your desires. These are not the actions of moral characters, and so long as their cause (and the narrative) validates their actions, that cause cannot be considered just, either. 

My gut sense is that a lot of people confuse imperfection, moral grayness, and amorality. Wakanda is not perfect; the entire movie is a struggle over its future due to ramifications of its past mistakes. But the characters know there’s a line in the sand, and they will not let Wakanda cross it. Meg is flawed in so many ways, but when she snaps at Charles Wallace, her shame and frustration signals she knows that line exists – and that she just stepped over it. Even selfish, angry Edmund in the Chronicles of Narnia is aware his choices  put him on the side of wrong. 

When Zarkon says he has Pidge’s father, an imperfect character would leap to accept, terms unheard. Their desires and flaws make them imperfect, willing to grab a ‘good end’ – but their core morality is revealed when they grapple with the question of whether they can justify evil for the sake of their own desires. 

A morally gray character knows where exactly that line is, and chooses to step over it. Often an anti-hero, the morally gray character is still moral – recognizing the evil of their means – and accepting it as the cost of achieving some greater (usually external) good. (The immoral character crosses the line for their own selfish ends.) 

An amoral character doesn’t even bother asking whether unjust means might delegitimize their ends: the only measuring stick is whether the ‘good’ end (the character’s desire) was realized. In fiction, amorality boils down to, “where does good or evil come into it? I got what I wanted, that’s what matters.” VLD reveals itself as amoral when it treats successful achievement of a goal as retroactively validating the means, whatever they were. 

I can’t shake the sense that this confusion stems from the influences swirling in the US for the past 15+ years. What was once morally gray – which is still an awareness of morality – has been rendered down into an amorality, where right and wrong is not only indistinguishable, but beside the point. By that means, evil can demand an equal voice, whether white supremacist, anti-vaxxer, or climate denier.  

GoLion may have been morally simplistic, but there’s no doubt it was still moral – and that is the essential element that VLD lacks. Without that, the VLD cast can only ever be ‘paladins’ in name only. 

[jessiyl]

The Smurg Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Hermione and Merope stood inside the entryway for the third house tour that day. Like the others, it was large and impressively built. It wasn't the size of any of the Malfoy mansions by any means, but it was definitely bigger than the respectable home Hermione had grown up in. There were several acres of land and a beautiful flower garden that was impressive in its own right. With six bedrooms and a large modern kitchen, it definitely made the cut. Even the asking price was decent.

Their realtor had dropped them off in the entryway as she received an urgent owl that called her away. After letting the two women into the house to look around, Annie, the realtor, apparated to where ever it was that she was needed, leaving the two women to wander through the house at their own pace.

Slowly, Merope and Hermione moved through the house making comments about the things they would change if they purchased it. Some things they would definitely keep, such as the fabulous kitchen, and other things, like the wallpaper, would definitely have to go. They had only been there for ten minutes when Annie came back, another client in tow.

"I hope you don't mind but I have another client interested in these same properties. I invited him to tour the rest of the houses with us."

Hermione had turned around and looked in astonishment at Gellert Grindelwald, even as Merope moved on through the house. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. What were the odds that Grindelwald was interested in buying property in Britain? Or want to look at the very ones that Hermione and Merope were looking at? Not bloody likely. Hermione looked away and into the pleading eyes of Annie. She shrugged her shoulders. Grindelwald wasn't her problem. If she said it often enough, maybe she would even start to believe it.

Annie clapped her hands with happiness and Hermione caught the curious tilt of Gellert's head. She surmised that he was trying to figure out her motives or maybe he was wondering if she even remembered who he was. Not that it mattered. She came back in time to change Tom Riddle's life not to meddle with Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald. She could care less what Grindelwald wanted.

"Hermione, look at this amazing bathroom!" Merope exclaimed in excitement. "The bathtub is so large, both of us could swim in it at the same time!"

Hermione moved into the bathroom and snorted. It was a large replica of the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. The only downside in her mind was the green and silver motif with the inlaid snake insignia. Hermione shook her head as Merope crooned in delight. Annie moved quickly into the room to happily point out all of its features to her excited client.

Hermione felt a gust of warm breath on her neck that forced goose pimples to raise in its wake. Grindelwald had moved close behind her and his body heat bled through her thin spring robe. Forcefully shutting down her body's reaction, Hermione stiffened with warning, waiting for his next move and clenched the wand in her hand tightly.

"It is very nicely done, wouldn't you say?" Gellert murmured into her ear. Hermione could feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong on her back. He was lightly pressed against her; his fingers were trapped between them and his body warmth like a furnace. His fingers lightly danced on her spine even as he blew cold air onto her neck.

"Back up," Hermione muttered dangerously. She refused to admit that her whole body itched to melt into his, a raging need to feel his fingers all over. It had been so long since she felt like this; excitement for the chase bubbled up inside her even as she tried to tamp it down and feeling sexy because deep in her gut, she knew he was there because of her.

She took a step forward, unwilling to wait for him to do as she bid. Never had arousal pounded so fiercely through her body, enticing her to let go of her inhibitions. Without her famous iron will, perhaps she would have given in to the impulse to lean into him and let him tease her with his whispered breaths and featherlight touches. Even as she moved forward, Gellert moved with her, refusing to take her warning seriously.

"Don't you think, Hermione?" Merope asked and turned for the first time since walking into the bathroom. Her eyes widened comically as she watched Gellert plant a light kiss on Hermione's neck. It was obvious that Hermione had not heard anything Merope had said for a good few minutes.

Hermione stopped breathing, unable to stop the shudder that ran through her as the feel of him invaded her senses. The silence was awkward and stilted but before Annie could turn around to investigate the reason Hermione had not answered, Gellert had moved back a good three feet to lean against the doorframe, nonchalantly.

"We will take it." Hermione choked out, refusing to meet Gellert's amused and teasing smile. Merope clapped happily, though the questions danced across her face.

"Brilliant!" Annie said, her smile reached from ear to ear. "There are just a few bits of paperwork and it's all yours,"

"We want to move in today." She said, firmly. Annie's wide smile shook for a moment before solidifying.

"I will have to contact the seller. If they are agreeable, we can have it all finalized in a few hours. Why don't the three of you go to lunch and give me some time."

Hermione was shaking her head, despite the predatorial smile that bloomed on Gellert's lips. Merope was looking between the two as if she anticipated all of their secrets would be found by observation. Annie missed all of it as she started on the paperwork that would make the house theirs.

"Mr. Peverell, if you are still of a mind to tour houses today, I will be finished here in a few hours," Annie said over her shoulder to Gellert, who was obviously using an alias. How Annie didn't realize who he was, was beyond Hermione. He looked exactly like his wanted poster that was hung in all the major magical pubs in Britain and the world, most likely.

"Absolutely! It would hardly be a hardship to escort these wonderful women to lunch. It would be my pleasure." He purred the last bit to Hermione as if he meant the pleasure would be more than just her company or the food.

"We would hate to impose on you in such a way." Hermione ground out between her clenched teeth. His gaze was like a physical caress on her face and she blushed and looked away. Annie was staring at her as if she were shocked by Hermione's rude dismissal of Gellert's gallant gesture. Hermione was starting to suspect that Annie was either a Grindelwald supporter or she was just not very bright.

"It would only be lunch, surely you could stomach my company for such a short repast." Gellert affected a wounded expression and watched the moment that Merope and Annie turned unimpressed eyes to Hermione. With bad grace, Hermione accepted defeat. They were going to lunch with Gellert Grindelwald.

Annie gestured for Hermione to sit at the table and go over some of the paperwork. Hermione watched as Merope moved out into the front garden with Gellert, both admiring the overgrown climbing rose growth on the brick building. Hermione was on edge, only able to see the two of them through a closed window. It made her twitchy, as she couldn't hear what they were talking about.

"Once both parties sign, the money will be taken from your account and deposited into the account of the seller. The money will be held in escrow for one week to give both parties a chance to back out of the contract. I added, as requested, another condition of purchase; the premises be made available immediately. I will present this offer to the seller while you and your sister are at lunch. Hopefully, by the time you are finished, you will be the new owner!" Annie smiled as she slid the contract in front of her. With a flick of her wand, all of the lines that Hermione needed to sign were highlighted in bright yellow.

With one last look out of the window, Hermione bent to work, reading over the contract and signing or making changes as she went. By the time Annie had finished with Hermione, she was irritable and hungry. She walked out of the house to find Merope and Gellert sitting on a bench laughing together as if they were old friends.

Merope jumped up guiltily as Hermione stared at her grumpily. Gellert took much longer to get up, his sinuous grace a personal affront to the aggrieved woman. With a heart-stopping smile, he reached out a hand to Hermione, a challenge if ever there was one. Hermione ignored the hand and grabbed Merope's instead, tugging her into motion and out of the garden, leaving Gellert to follow on his own. A quiet chuckle was the only indication that he was indeed still behind them.

"I like him," Merope whispered to Hermione.

"No," Hermione said.

"What do you mean no? That is not a proper response to my opinion."

"No!" Hermione whispered fiercely.

"Harrumph!" Merope intoned, clearly put out. "I think you need someone charming like him in your life." She said a little louder. Hermione could hear the crunch of his shoes getting closer to them.

"You don't even know who he is." Hermione hissed.

"He appears to be a handsome stranger bent on seducing you."

"I don't want to be seduced!" Hermione whisper yelled louder than she intended.

"Oh, but I could make it so enjoyable," Gellert added, his voice lowering, the deep smooth baritone swirled hedonistically around them. Hermione continued on down the lane, ignoring Gellert and headed towards the local chippy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Merope throw him a commiserating look. They were ganging up on her, were they? She would have to nip this in the bud.

The bell hung on the door tinkled as she pushed it open. A pleasant looking witch greeted them with a smile and sat them right away. There was nothing that earned Hermione's gratitude more than a competent wait staff.

The moment the hostess handed her a menu, she lifted it high and used it as a physical shield between them. Merope sat next to her and rolled her eyes, taking just a few moments to peruse the menu. It wasn't necessary, she would get the same thing she chose last time. They really did have the best fish batter. After the food had been ordered, Merope turned to Gellert.

"So why are you house hunting? Any reason in particular?"

"I like to see what comes available."

"Yeah, for your evil lair." Hermione murmured, taking another unnecessarily large gulp of her tea.

"What was that?" Merope asked her sweetly, pretending not to have heard her.

"Nothing," Mumbled Hermione. Gellert was grinning, his amusement palpable. Interest grew in his eyes as he must have realized that she knew exactly who he was. Bully for him.

"Mr. Peverell, what brings you to England?" Merope asked conversationally.

"Please, call me Gellert." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "I used to stay with an aunt here when I was a boy. I made some of my best acquaintances here. I was thinking I would move back and rekindle my alliances."

"That's a funny way of talking about your friends," Merope said. As if she had anyone other than Hermione to base her experience on.

"You see, I would love to address them as old friends. Alas, I am sure they no longer think of me that way."

"Why?"

"They are afraid of me." Gellert shrugged nonchalantly.

"Afraid of you? You are one of the most affable men I have ever met."

"Your scale for judgment is minuscule and broken," Hermione mumbled.

"You are walking on thin ice. Don't be rude." Merope snipped, her teeth clenched and she plastered a smile determinedly on her face. Hermione watched as Merope's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and felt bad almost immediately.

"Sorry." Hermione murmured. She looked away guiltily and caught Gellert's eyes. He was studying her, as though staring hard enough at her would crack her wide open for him to examine.

"Who are you?' Gellert whispered intensely. Merope used the moment to excuse herself to go to the powder room, leaving Hermione alone with Gellert.

"I don't know what you mean.," She yanked her focus away from his bright inquisitive eyes. Beautiful eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean. Where did you come from? No one had heard of you until you showed up out of nowhere one day, just walking into Gringotts as if you had been there many times before. You are a mystery."

"I am perfectly ordinary."

"If that were true, you would not have defeated Albus so easily in a duel."

"What is it that you want from me?"

"I don't know yet. but I do know that you fascinate me. I am held completely spellbound and at your mercy, oh Gaia, and I need to slake my burning desire to know all of you. What secrets do you hold? I yearn to peel back each layer and revel in the discovery. A powerful woman like you, Hermione, is a challenge that I simply cannot bring myself to ignore."

"Oh, that was good," Hermione said amused, leaning forward, arching her brow. "very eloquent, Gellert. What next? Am I to be your goddess divine? The Venus of your heart? The goddess Hera of your life?" She rolled her eyes. His burning gaze unsettled her, and she tried very hard to mask the reactions of her body. She was drawn to him as improbable as it sounded, maybe almost as much as he was drawn to her.

"You asked me what I wanted from you and that was my answer. I don't know what draws me to you so forcefully, but I have every intention of finding out."

The moment was charged as they stared at each other, both too stubborn to back down first. With sheer force of will, she broke eye contact, only to drop them to his red lips. The lips that had tasted her skin not even an hour prior. Her body ached for his touch. It was nonsensical and unquestionably a bad idea, worse even than Merope with Riddle, but she couldn't help the way her body reacted. Never had any man affected her so profoundly.

Hermione pulled her gaze away from him and back down at her plate, grateful for something to do whilst not looking at the man seated opposite her. Hermione nearly groaned with relief when Merope finally returned.

"My father is here," Merope muttered out of the corner of her mouth. She was blushing with embarrassment and Hermione could tell that she hoped their new 'friend' would stay unaware of the possible drama. However, it was not to be as Marvolo wound his way through the tables of the chippy and stopped right in front of the place they were seated. Marvolo didn't even glance at Grindelwald and that suited Hermione just fine. She refused to be the catalyst of Marvolo becoming a zealot.

"Are you ready to admit to your foolishness, Girl? Repent and seek my forgiveness and I will have you back home where you belong."

"I am very happy staying with Hermione, Father. But if you care to visit me -"

"Which I don't" He sneered.

"Good!" Hermione said angrily. "You are not welcome at my house, Sir, and it would show poor decision-making skills on your part to ignore my continued warnings."

"Stay out of our family affairs."

"It would be impossible since I am family and all." Hermione bluffed. She was as good as, and she had no intention of ever letting Tom near Marvolo Gaunt.

"In what world would I consider you as my family?"

"Father! I am staying with Hermione and that is final. You can come for Yule only if you behave yourself. Other than that, you should keep your distance." Merope gathered her things and tugged Hermione out of the booth and through the restaurant before going onto the streets. Grindelwald followed behind them at a slower pace. Hermione turned back to look at him and saw that he leaned in closer to Marvolo, his hand tight around the older man's bicep, talking to him in a low voice. The older man's head snapped back and turned white as a sheet. Standing in the same position as he was left, he watched as Gellert followed Hermione and Merope from the chippy. The older man was unsettled, and Hermione burned to know what Gellert had said to the man. However, she would hardly give Gellert the satisfaction of seeming interested.

The three of them were silent as they walked back to the property that Hermione was in the process of buying. Gellert kept his focus on Hermione. Hermione avoided him and his attentions. Merope tried valiantly to shrug off the encounter with her father and winked at Gellert, trying to position Hermione discretely between them in a bid to get Hermione some male companionship.

Hermione was resolute in denying him even the pleasure of walking near her and by the time they reached the house all three of them were frustrated and trying to hide it from the others. Annie must have seen them approach because she was on the front lawn with a huge smile on her face and the signed documents clasped in her manicured grip.

"They agreed to everything you asked for! The house is now yours. It was a pleasure and if ever you need to purchase another house or sell your property, give me the chance to work with you." Annie pushed the stack of parchments into Hermione's left hand and the keys in the other. With a congratulatory smile and a pat on the shoulder, Annie had moved on to Gellert, escorting him off the property. Hermione watched as he walked closer to Annie and couldn't quite stifle the jealousy that rose in her. He was talking to Annie, pouring his charm on her and it bothered Hermione that he did that after making such pretty speeches about Hermione not that long ago. She turned back around towards the door, agitated that she cared at all, only to meet Merope's amused gaze.

"He is very charming."

"Shut up," Hermione growled.

Merope mimed zipping her lips before throwing away the key, her eyes sparkling with delighted mischief.

**HGHG**

The first week in the new house was a flurry of activity. Having little more than two suitcases between them, the first order of business was to procure the contents of a household. Hermione and Merope toured shops and vintage stores searching for the perfect furniture. Merope was in a constant whirl of happiness and Hermione surmised that the reason for her lift in mood was the creepy and weird, Tom Riddle.

Since they moved in and the bedrooms were furnished, she had caught the sleaze-ball there no less than twelve times, all in a state of nakedness. The more Hermione knew the man, the more she just couldn't understand Merope's fixation. The only thing she could say in his favor was that he was very nice looking, but then again so was Draco and Hermione never had the inclination to screw him all over the house.

Finally, things started to settle down around Christmas time and Hermione and Merope could often be found in the room they designated the library. Merope was sitting on a chair by the fireplace flipping through Witch Weekly while Hermione was researching the best baby care spells. It was never too early to learn what she needed to know to give Tom the best chance of not becoming a psychotic killer.

It was dark out and a snowstorm was rolling in, fat snowflakes fell in lazy clumps, giving the surrounding area an unusual stillness. Every once in a while, Hermione would stop and practice a wand movement or switch to a different book to expound on one spell or another when a knock sounded at the door. Merope ignored it, knowing that Tom was out of town for the next week. With that knowledge, she knew that whoever at the door wasn't for her and left it for Hermione who was annoyed by the interruption and Merope's lack of interest in going to the door.

Hermione grumbled and pulled it open with a scowl. A wizened house elf stood on the stoop looking ancient and somehow pretentious.

"I is Jesper, the last living elf bound to the Slytherin line." He said with a bow.

Hermione moved back from the door and invited the elderly elf in. She had a sinking feeling that she wasn't going to like what was about to happen. Jesper was a proud elf who reminded her of the stuffy butlers of the Manors of the Muggle Lords.

"Can I get you anything?" Hermione asked kindly, not sure how to act or what to do in this situation. He looked at her down the length of his nose, even as he looked up at her and she just knew, that this elf was going to take over.

"Yes! You can re-bond me then bond the rest."

"The rest of what?"

"The rest of the elves. Their parents served the proud line of Slytherin."

"Wouldn't you rather be paid, to have vacation? I would gladly hire all of you." She said. Anything she would have further added immediately died on her tongue. Jesper was not amused.

"Mistress insults us," He sneered, sounding so much like Professor Snape that year her teeth grew to beaver proportions.

She shook her head with eyes widened comically. She could face down Death, Death Eaters, Voldemort, unknown horrors, condemning innocent girls to carry a parasite, time travel, losing everyone she had ever loved, but still she could only stutter apologies at the old elf in front of her.

"I didn't mean…" She began before she was cut off.

"We is doing the binding now. Yes?" He nodded his head decisively and snapped his fingers, instantly summoning three other full-grown house elves to the room.

"Okay," Hermione said defeated. There was no arguing with house elves, she knew this from experience.

All five stood in a circle and stared, waiting for something to happen, before Jesper cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly.

"You is having to do the binding, Mistress."

"What am I supposed to do?"

With another roll of his bulbous eyes, he produced a thin book from somewhere in his pressed tunic. He opened it to a page and placed the leather book in Hermione's hands.

"I, Hermione Slytherin, swear to provide the elves in my service with sufficient work and allow them to care for all things related to the familial Slytherin line. Furthermore, I swear to uphold the laws and spirit of the duties of a house elf, taking all in my charge under my protection. By the name Slytherin, I bind you."

"Jesper," The old house elf said in conclusion of the odd ritual followed quickly by a middle-aged female named Ellie, a young female- Kinder, obviously mated to the last young male elf- Nod.

"Give us orders, Mistress," Jesper said, snatching back the thin book of house elf law, wanting to keep it safe from her obviously incompetent hands. She couldn't help but be mildly insulted. As if she would deface a book… As if she would deface most books, she amended.

"Er, what do you want to do?"

Jesper smacked his forehead and the sneer was back even more pronounced than before.

"I run the staff and anything else you require. Ellie runs the house, Kinder runs the kitchen, and Nod runs the garden. There will be several more that arrive over the next week or so. They will be called by the Slytherin pledge. You do not need to do anything more. If I choose to accept them into the household, I will let you know. Now, Mistress, give us our orders."

"Um, my orders are exactly what he said."

"Good enough," He grumbled and pushed the elves into the kitchen.

"I have several rooms, you can pick what you need."

Jesper looked at her in horror.

"Elves will take care of their own homes, you is not needing to concern yourself." He was cold and formal, in dismissal and yet he waited as if he was waiting on her dismissal. It was Hermione's turn to look at him in horror as she realized that was exactly what she expected.

"You may go now," She whispered, still uncomfortable with owning not one but four house elves. If only her younger, S.P.E.W. obsessed self could see her now. Hermione heard a snort of laughter from the couch and narrowed her eyes at the young woman with her hand clamped over her mouth. Removing the hand, Merope smirked.

"Only you would be horrified at finding out that you inherited a few house elves."

Christmas was a quiet affair. Tom was still out of the country or Hermione suspected was unavailable because he was with another woman, but not being able to prove it, kept her mouth firmly shut. The two of them laughed and opened presents, playing silly games and pulling crackers. By the end of the night, several bottles of wine lay empty on the floor, the cheap hats were perched on their heads and they were giggling. Kinder was an amazing cook as it turned out and Hermione and Merope constantly were lavishing the tiny elf with praise. Hermione wasn't even sure that Molly Weasley made better food.

The Christmas season passed in a blur, and months flew by as the two women settled into their new home. Tom soon became a constant fixture in their lives as he and Merope continued on with their affair. Hermione was constantly hiding in her library with a strong silencing spell on the walls and ceiling. She had no desire to hear them. The times Hermione did run into Tom and Merope wasn't there, he hit on her and tried very hard to get into her knickers. Needless to say, Merope was often beseeched to find someone else, not a cheating bastard but Merope was in love and blind to a fault. It was not long until the news Hermione had been waiting for, came to light.

"Hermione?" Merope asked, knocking on her bedroom one morning mid-April.

"Come in," Hermione called. She was lying in bed, reading a book on transfiguration that Dumbledore had sent over to her. Their relationship was odd. He constantly asked for Merope's hand in marriage in return for Hermione defeating Grindelwald. He kept sending her gifts, hoping to sweeten the deal. After the first few, she stopped sending them back. He, after all, had wonderful taste in magical texts.

Merope walked in and sat on the bed, wringing her hands. She took a deep breath and grabbed Hermione's book, careful to keep her page marked.

"I'm pregnant,"

"Congratulations,"

"Hermione, I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

"But I am not married!"

"Then get married!"

"Tom refused. Said it was my own fault."

"That slimy bastard. Do you want me to cast the imperious for you?"

"No, he said he didn't love me. He never loved me. He said I was an easy shag!"

"This is not the end of the world,"

"This child will be ostracized from the magical community."

"Yes, because we are so involved in it now, and your family never was. So, why do you even care?" Hermione said sarcastically.

"That's exactly why I care! I know what it is like to be left out."

"What do you want me to do then?"

"I don't know! For the sake of this child, I need to get married and soon. But who would do that? Who?!" Merope moaned the last word in despair. She was scared and frustrated.

Hermione tried again to reason with the distraught, hormonal witch.

"We can raise the baby together."

"This baby needs a father!" She said firmly and Hermione grimaced. "I need your help. I should have listened to you when you said Tom wasn't right for me."

"Let me talk to Tom," Hermione began, a dangerous glint in her eye.

"No! Not, Tom. This was the last straw."

"What do you want me to do?"

"As my sister and as a Slytherin, can you not pull some strings and find me a husband?"

"You are bound and determined in this?"

"Yes."

"I am going to regret this, I am sure, but I have had one offer for your hand in marriage."

"Who is that?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Why does he want to marry me?"

"He wants me to do something for him and he knows that you and your son are my priority."

"I'll do it."

"He will be delighted," Hermione said with a grimace.