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bingoboingobongo · 3 years

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Would you write a fezco x reader fic, where she smokes with fez for the first time and she kinda panics, so he helps calms her down. Then once she calms down it ends with her and fez laughing and talking about the stupidest things.

felicity

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Fezco gets high and comes to a realization.

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), use of drugs (weed), brief mention of addiction, brief mention of rehab

A/N: hii, this was a really fun/easy request to write out as a sort of cool down from my last fic, so ty anon (even tho it took me forever to post this sorry). i'm not sure if my depiction of weed usage in this is accurate, i was mainly going off of internet, so i tried to keep it vague. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated :)

Masterlist

"Aight ma," Fezco drawled in his familiar monotone voice, "so you just roll it up like this and then light it and smoke it, got it?"

"I think so?" she replied, grabbing a small sheet of rolling paper to try and mimic Fezco.

The entire scene was adorably endearing to watch as she struggled to skillfully roll a joint, her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip suspended between her teeth. They had known each other for a while now and since then they had only gotten closer. Contrary to her friends, she had never tried weed before, instead deciding to spend her time sober, but it was nearly the end of winter break and she didn't have anything better to do, which is why she was currently sitting on Fezco's couch.

"Oh- why is mine so ugly?" she cried, holding up her pitiful attempt at rolling a joint.

Fezco chuckled, eliciting a pout out of her, "It's fine ma, it just takes practice. Here I'll make you a better one." The entire process was like second nature to him, ingrained into his muscles through years of practice. "Here," he said, offering her the joint, "want me to light it for you?"

"Um," she hesitated, "yeah, I guess."

"Hey you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he reminded her, putting the joint down.

"No! No! I want to do it, it's just," she started, fidgeting with her hands. "You're a hundred percent sure this is safe right? Because I don't want to get addicted or anything and I read that doing drugs and alcohol at a young age can stunt your brain growth and make you more prone to addiction and I'm not ready for that kind of lifestyle," she rambled, her heart rate quickening and her breaths becoming frenzied.

"Hey, you'll be fine ma," he reassured her, gently taking her hand in his, "this stuff's pretty mild anyways, it's just meant to make you relax and calm down. I wouldn't give you nothing bad anyway. And if you do get addicted we'll get you to rehab," he joked, rubbing soft circles into her skin to help her calm down.

She took a deep breath, "Ok. Ok, let's do this, give me the joint," she said. With a nod, Fezco handed her the joint and delicately placed it in between her lips. He pulled a lighter out of his shirt pocket and beckoned for her to lean towards him so he could light hers, lighting his own afterwards.

He watched her carefully as she took an inhale of the smoke and laughed as she coughed on it.

"You good?" he asked.

"Ye- Yeah I'm good," she responded, screwing her eyes shut as she continued coughing. "When am I supposed to feel something?"

"Uh, it's different for everyone, maybe like fifteen minutes?"

"Okay, so… what do we do now?” she asked.

“Uh, whatever we want I guess.”

She hummed, “Hey you know what’s so weird?”

“What ma?”

“Apparently there’s nothing that’s naturally blue in nature. I mean think about it, blueberries are purple when you smash them and green when you peel them, and how many animals do you know that are blue?” she asked, waving her hands around enthusiastically.

Fezco thought for a moment, he didn’t spend a lot of his time outside, most of it was spent either at his house, parties, or his gas station, and when he did he wasn’t the type to spend his time cataloging colors.

“Wait… Isn’t the sky blue or have I been tripping this entire time?”

She paused, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes as she tried to deal with the new information.

“And butterflies,” he pointed out, “I’ve seen a few blue butterflies in documentaries and stuff, aren’t there blue flowers too?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking at Fezco with wide eyes, “there are blue things in nature. Have I been lied to? How could I forget about the sky? What if I am gullible?”

“Nah it’s fine,” he reassured her, “hey you wanna know something else cool?” she nodded, “the Great Wall of China has this uh, program thing where they hire cats to walk along the wall and kill mice.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows upturned and her eyes wide, “that is so cute, oh my god I have to see that.”

“Yeah, apparently they put little vests on them too so people know not to mess with them, I saw it in a documentary,” he continued.

“Oh. My. God. That is so adorable, imagine visiting the Great Wall of China and seeing cats! I think I’d scoop one up and take it home with me,” she gushed, grabbing onto Fezco’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too but apparently they’re trained to always stay at the wall, so like if you try to pick it up it’ll run away. But they have little houses that you can visit as you walk.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “that’s kinda sad but I guess it makes sense, how do they train the cats anyways? I mean, I know that they have like… cat pageants, but can they really train cats to kill mice and stuff?”

“Uh- I- Yeah, I guess they can, apparently they have to go through a huge training program and when they complete they have a whole ceremony and everything.”

She gasped, “You’re lying that is- I wanna see these cats so badly, I have to look this up,” she said, pulling out her phone.

Fezco watched amused as she searched it up, only to find no relevant results, “Fezco?” she whined, “what was the name of the documentary you watched, nothing’s showing up.”

At this point, Fezco was struggling to bite back his laughter; tears were beginning to well up in his eyes and he was fighting to maintain a straight face. Despite his best efforts, the sight of her confused gaze was enough to tip him over the edge, causing him to emit a hearty chuckle.

“Oh- I- I’m sorry ma,” he giggled, trying to regain his composure. “There ain’t- there aren't any Great Wall of China cats, I was just trying to see how long you’d believe it,” he explained. She pouted, rolling her eyes and playfully slapping his arm.

“Screw you Fez,” she joked, pausing to take a deep breath. “Hey I think it’s finally hitting now. I feel… relaxed, like it feels like a wave of like — calm just washed over me, is that what it’s supposed to feel like?” she asked, taking another hit from the joint.

He nodded, “Yeah just- just enjoy it ma.” She hummed, looking ahead and taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. He watched her carefully, admiring the way that her eyelashes fluttered slightly when they closed and the way a light tendril of smoke escaped from her open lips. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but in that moment, there was something about her that just allured him.

Before then, he hadn't really thought about her in a romantic sense, granted they had known each other for a while and they quickly became close, but it wasn't until then that Fezco realized just how happy she made him.

How her texts sparked a flame of excitement in his stomach and her laughter sparked a forest fire of felicity in his soul whenever he heard that blessed sound. How every glance in his direction set him ablaze and every touch ignited an intense inferno of emotions that heated up his heart and sent his insides into hyperdrive.

In that moment, as he watched her calmly take another puff of the joint, he realized that he wasn't sure if he could live without her. She seemed so serene, so comfortable, that he wasn't sure how he could have been so blind as to not have seen it before, she was undoubtedly the one for him.

#bingoboingobongo.com #fezco euphoria #fezco fanfic #fezco imagine #fezco fluff #fezco smut #fezco angst #fezco headcanon #fezco one shot #answered #euphoria hbo #euphoria fic #euphoria

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astranne · 2 years

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MASTERLIST MADE UP FANFIC TITLES

notes // here are all sent asks from the not so planned event linked. it‘s going to take a while to write all of these. blame foxie. i do too. all titles are linked in the order in which they have been posted.

please note that some titles contain suggestive themes/or talk about nsfw things/pairs not everyone will like. these are no full works, but something like 'summaries' to the fanfic titles which have been sent. sometimes there is a bit more, sometimes there is a bit less. if you're very sensitive to the things named above, then don't read. while my main doesn't have explicit themes, some titles sent are, or at least mention it. if you see a title like that, and don't want to read then don't read. it's this easy.

free candy the white van said // Long-Awaited Secrets Revealed // expense it on my business card, he said // I'm shocked, shocked, I tell you // A Tale bound for the Stars // Oh Mary and Jane, Don't be Simping on Main // Forget the man I used to be and four more titles // 101 things NOT to do with a panda: stealing one from China to deal with the estate's invasive overgrown forest of bamboo // Baby don't worry // No matter where I look, high or low, I still can't find you hoe // be a pathetic social worm getting crushed by lifeTM // reflection in the void // 50 shades of mud // Green Hell // Good luck biting through steel greaves you gremlin // Emergency Food or World Guide: The Debate // Anemo, Electro and....*reads smudged writing* grass? // Dreaming about New Ways to Torture (baby‘s first stand) // "tutorial on how to crack an egg" seconds before disaster // Pretending We Know Things (How Does One Work This "Oven") // Unending Memes Encryption // Not friendly for introverts nor kids // cry for your mama, scoff at your dada // You're the Lightning to My Sound of Thunder // Call Me The Champion (of the Accidental Meme Smackdown) // I see the cosmos in your eyes (do I live in it?) // i'm a mess on fire but no amount of water will fix me // My Physics Professor made me do it // When all the stars go down, a strange type of sound // Dancing in the Dark // If I drop this coffee, someone is going to Die // "Gaze Not into the Abyss, Lest it Gaze Back" // You don't know whether you're dealing with a god, a king or an alien bent on world domination // The Print Was So Small, We Didn't Understand // We Sit Our Thrones (It's Time to Say Goodbye) // Everything wanted to kill me but I lived out of spite // Identity Crisis: The Musical // Why should I hire you? // Dabi's 504 methods of evading taxes // The extraordinarily ordinary life of brothers // Make War Not Tea // It's funny how you think you're still the king (karma is a bitch) // Invincible, We Live Like Legends // The Taste of Who You Are // Past Turns To Dust (Pour It Into The Hourglass) // From Winter Song to Noble Blood (Undo It All) // Mood swings can cause weather change, don't you know? // You sent me a letter. What is this, the medieval times? // "Alright, which fucker broke this again" // Bad Apple (The Prettiest Poison Apple) // We're an endless stream of choices (a haunting melody) // Stay Strong (You're Not Allowed To Laugh) // A Twisted Happy Ever After To Behold (you wanted to fade away? Too late) // We all want to be somebody, but you always wanted to be nobody // Sung Jinah's Secret Pandora Box // Dragons....in MY land? // Oh No, Extreme Dad Energy // Down the rabbit hole but found a fox // the stupidest thing you can give to a child // Flower of Hell (Assassins, Outlaws and Outsiders) // Fishing For A Compliment (You Caught A Childe!) // kill me softly // Round is a shape. // „I‘m in a coma, no one can tell me otherwise“ // Game of Survival, War of Hearts // The legend of going to bed at a reasonable hour // T'was As Amusing As The Light of A Garbage Fire // "DID YOU SEE THIS DUMPSTER FIRE" you laugh, shoving your mobile in my face // Dead Hearts and Doomsday (I can't ditch this fake tea party, send help) // Over the Horizon (Way Back Home) // "I can't be a magical girl!" You, a magical girl, say // 20 STRANGE PHOTOS TAKEN IN USJ // Enemies with benefits comes with tax benefits. // Black haze, blue gleam // ”Heroes should be fashionably late, so why are you early by....TWO HOURS?!" // I left for maybe 5 minutes, why is the kitchen on fire // Beauty and the beast named batkid // Alert! Click on link below to find the missing Batman // what they don't tell you // Twink(le) twink(le) little Pringle

more titles will be linked...

ASTRANNE 2022

#masterlist #made up fic title ask game #dc #mcu #marvel #jjk #harry potter #mha #bnha #genshin impact #got #peaky blinders

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unalivejournal · 3 years

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u mentioned only reading kripke era fic do you have a reclist 👀👀👀and if not could you link some of ur faves cuz the stuff that gets circulated the most right now is all like late late seasons fic and kripke era is my favorite too but im having trouble finding that many fics for it or even seasons 6-10 era which im fine with also. its just that like. the last five seasons were so bad that it makes fic generally worse too because people have to jump off of just Thee stupidest plot choices no matter how good their prose skills might be. but anyway yea if u have recs that would be awesome :)

hi anon i was thinking abt making a reclist and u just gave me the perfect excuse thank u

jess adamilligan’s kripke era fic recs

from making this ive learned that i never bookmark ANYTHING. sorry all of these r like….. 10k and under. i DO read longer fic but i don’t have any kripke era longfics bookmarked & tbh i prefer short oneshots

season one gen

disclaimer because it’s unfortunately needed: NONE of these are w*ncest! they’re all completely tagged as gen and i did not read them with the intent of consuming ship content.

Coaster Park by fogsrollingin, 10.4k, G, gen

Coaster Park had been experiencing an unusually high frequency of technical difficulties. Dean wouldn't have pulled a shift treating nauseated, heat-stroked, or dehydrated park-goers for that if he could've helped it, but when 'technical difficulties' were accompanied by rumors of things moving and stopping on their own in front of the operators' eyes, Dean had to throw down.

No historical tragedies or disasters in the area, ectoplasm, or EMF. Dean's only lead was a battered-looking kid that'd been coming to the park every day since it'd all started.

really interesting au fic! slightly ‘it’s a terrible life’. dean winchester is a hunter/EMT and sam wesson is a college kid destined to die on a roller coaster ride.

two basic motivating forces by sahwen, 7.8k, T, gen

He can’t cry, it’s not allowed; even as a child he was hushed into silence, whether his tears were from a long car ride or a late night or a raging fever. It’s never been an option, it’s never been an available outlet, and it’s not about to start being one just because he’s having an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor.

Sam isn't only afraid of clowns.

BIG emetophobia tw (both for graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting and for the fact that this fic is about sam suffering from emetophobia) for this one but it’s my favorite sickfic. portrays anxiety over getting sick really well and is a fascinating examination of the different ways that sam’s fear of loss of control can manifest itself. also has lovely brothers content <3

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning (Remix of Just as Easy as 123) by nwspaprtaxis, 4k, T, gen

Dean’s functionally illiterate and Sam’s determined to remedy it...

PLEASE READ THIS ONE god it’s so sweet. dean never learned how to read properly due to his nomadic childhood and sam teaches him how.

dean/cas

Broadway Musical by Griftings, 9k, M, m/m

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

somewhat of a fandom classic and the humor holds up wonderfully. a very silly fic completed with commentary from angel radio throughout the entire thing.

Sappiest Season by dollsome, 2.7k, G, m/m

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

hilarious little s5ish fic. one of the first i read when getting back into spn. i don’t want to spoil anything but this is my favorite pick me up and i still giggle randomly whenever i think about it

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday

Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.

another fandom classic. ik this one is recced a lot but how could i NOT include it. dean and cas get married (mostly by accident) and they’re huge cunts about it

the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on by prufrock, 2.4k, T, gen + m/m

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

or, after the events of S5E03 "Free to Be You and Me," Dean teaches Cas to drive. Cas finds it stressful

im always a sucker for a good ftbyam fic. also i can’t drive so. resonation

So Says The Sword by komodobits, 85k, E, m/m

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

NO introduction neede. i think everyone on spntumblr has read this already but still. if you haven’t then i am demanding that you read it NOW. tbh i’m just adding this one so that i have at least one long fic here 😭

the weight by @myaimistrue, 3.5k, T, gen + m/m

“Do you…” Bobby sighs. “Listen, Dean, do you have something you wanna tell me?”

It’s the conversational equivalent of being punched in the stomach.

Or, Dean works through some things with Bobby's help.

WHEN I SAW THE USERNAME I GASPED I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS U. anyway i Love coming out fics idk why i just do. the world is ending and dean comes out to bobby

canticles by 2street2car, 10.3k, T, m/m

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”

feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

another ftbyam fic that skepticalfrog (i believe?) recommended a while back. made me feel at least 28 new emotions

Epilogue by JayneL, 28k, E, m/m

Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means-- Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means--

Cas is no longer when he was. Lucifer sent him back.

Coda to 'The End'.

2014 cas gets sent back to 2009, feelings ensue etc. i don’t remember all the details of this one bc it’s been a while but it’s really good

bonus

currently reading

Fragile As We Lie by perilously, 11k, E, f/f

Dragging Bela Talbot out of perdition isn't so much a decision as it is a frantic choice based on gut instinct. Her soul is bright, if fractured, and Anna yearns to do good again after the perversion of free will that immediately preceded her death.

Bela's no ordinary human, though; she's prickly and damaged and beautiful, and Anna doesn't want to leave her side. So maybe they can figure out how to navigate post-resurrection, post-Apocalypse-that-wasn't Earth together.

#sorry i took a few days to answer this haha #asks #anon #fic recs

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cinnonym · 4 years

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I was feeling anxious about the election and thus decided to polish up an older, previously unposted fluff fic of mine. There’s a second, angstier part to it, which I’ll post later, but for now, I hope that the fluff can help calm some of your anxiety the way it helped calm mine. I call this piece falling (from cloud nine and back). Happy reading!

It all started out so innocently.

Emma had just moved in. It was Regina's idea to rent out one of the many rooms in her mansion to the saviour, so Henry could have a stable home environment. Emma agreed pretty quickly, tired of the tiny loft Snow lived in. She insisted upon paying rent, although Regina had made clear several times that she didn't need the money anyway.

"You aren't so snobby that you decline cash when it's offered to you, just take it."

They sat at the breakfast table one morning, Emma trying desperately to keep her eyes open as she shoved spoons of cereal into her mouth, Regina herself already on the verge of leaving for work, shouting for Henry to hurry with his packing.

"I don't understand how you can be so awake when it's barely... what time?" Emma mumbled, her mouth full of cheerios (Regina had no idea where they came from, Emma must have somehow managed to sneak them in), and when one of her long blonde strands of hair fell out of the sloppy bun on the top of her head, Regina moved forward to stroke it back behind her ear.

The action was automatic, her mind probably so focused on Henry that it was maternal instinct.

However, the second her finger touched Emma's cheek, the saviour drew a sharp breath and looked at Regina, suddenly wide awake.

The expression in those green eyes unreadable, Regina recoiled immediately, fearing to have crossed a line. She cursed herself for acting unconsciously, and with Emma of all people – Emma who'd been wary of physical contact ever since Regina had known her. Before she could rush to apologize however, a smile spread on Emma's face, warm and bright and making the words get stuck in Regina's throat. Feeling inexplicably uncertain, she returned the smile and then rushed to work.

That evening, she came home late, and Emma had already gone to sleep. In the fridge she found leftover takeaway from Granny's though, and a note: "Hope you enjoy the kale salad and goodnight. X, Emma".

It all started out so innocently.

Things only escalated later.

The coming weeks were busy ones, Regina spending the large part of her days at the office, Emma only dropping by at lunch time to make sure she took a break. They made light conversation while eating, Emma occasionally reaching over to cover Regina's hand with her own, a simple gesture that made the brunette feel calmer instantly. She didn't read anything into the touches; Emma and she were growing closer as friends and co-parents, nothing strange with that.

Sometimes, she would find herself wanting to comfort Emma in return, so whenever the blonde ranted about the latest petty crime that left her with loads of paperwork and nothing gained, she reached out to pat the her shoulder or arm, as if saying "I understand you. People are stupid sometimes."

She started cupping Emma's cheek in the mornings, gently stroking her thumb over her cheekbones, instead of just saying goodbye. Emma would lean into the caresses, a content smile on her face rather than the frown she’d used to reserve for early rises before.

Then came the hugs.

One evening, when Regina returned from a particularly exhausting day at work, Emma embraced her the second she had stepped through the door. "You work too hard," she whispered and Regina allowed herself to get lost in the warm strong arms of the saviour for a while, before Henry interrupted them to ask what's for dinner.

Later that night, Emma pulled Regina closer on the couch while watching TV and gave her a massage. Luckily Henry was in his room to catch up on some homework because the moans Emma drew from Regina would have been rated mature for sure.

It took some time for them to take the next step after that. The cuddle sessions became more frequent and Regina more often than not found herself sitting in her office and counting down the hours till she could embrace Emma Swan again. Lunch visits had long since become a daily occurrence and they would spend it sitting on opposite sides of Regina's desk, their knees bumping together constantly. Then the afternoon would be dedicated to waiting for the evening, and the evening would consist of cuddle sessions on the couch.

Henry had gotten used to his affectionate mums, though he would sometimes shoot them pondering looks when Regina once again couldn't keep her hands from stroking through Emma's hair.

"Ma," he asked Emma one morning, not knowing that Regina was within earshot, ready to say goodbye and leave for work, "Don't you think it's unusual for you and Mum not to date?"

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed, then immediately hushed herself, and Regina had to move closer in order to make out her next words, "Your mum and I, we aren't together!"

"Except you kind of are," Henry mumbled almost inaudibly, "I mean, you live together, you spend your day together, you cuddle a lot..."

"Of course we do," Emma answered, "We're friends and share custody of you. We're close. See, your mum, she is a very strong woman, and I admire that. But she is also human and needs rest. I just want to make sure she gets that rest. She is always the one who takes care of everything, and I want to take care of her in return. She deserves that."

Regina decided to intervene then, stepping into the kitchen to find Henry and his mother clearing the table. Her heart swelled with affection for them both, and when Emma leaned in for a hug after she had kissed Henry goodbye, Regina, without further ado, pressed her lips against the blonde's cheek as well. Emma's skin was soft and warm, and she found it difficult to pull back after a second. Emma smiled blindingly at her, and Henry rolled his eyes in a manner he had picked up from both of his mums.

The next stage was introduced only days after that first kiss. It was a Friday night, and Henry was over at a friend’s, leaving Emma and Regina all by themselves to binge Disney films. (Emma loved the stuff and Regina was content with hearing her giggle hysterically whenever a character they knew in real life showed up.) They watched Snow White on Regina's request ("Just because you enjoy seeing my mum being hopelessly idiotic" – "I do not have to watch the film for that. It suffices to pay the loft a visit"), then Beauty and the Beast ("I can’t believe this is supposed to be Gold"), and barely finished Mulan, because Emma had dozed off and needed to rewind.

"We should go to bed," Regina said when the credits finally rolled, at the same time snuggling deeper into Emma's arms.

"But I don't want to let you go. You're so warm and comfy..." Emma pressed a kiss to Regina's hair and Regina, too, had to admit that she didn't really want Emma to let go of her.

"It is really late though," she tried to be The Responsible One, only to have Emma respond with an immature "I don't care," which was interrupted by a yawn.

"Emma," Regina sighed, "We cannot stay on the couch all night."

"Yes, we can. It's more comfortable than my bed anyway."

"Nothing compared to my bed though," Regina smirked and sure enough Emma perked up.

"Really? Let's sleep there then."

"Did you just invite yourself into my bed?" Regina failed to suppress a smile, and Emma grinned back: "And what if I have?"

House-intern sleepovers occurred more often than not after that, and Regina found that waking up next to Emma was something she could get used to. Although Henry eyed them suspiciously, Regina didn't think twice about the developments: How sleeping next to Emma became sleeping entwined with Emma, how kissing Emma's cheek became giving Emma pecks on her lips, how wanting Emma's touch became craving Emma's touch.

She didn't think about any of those things and it took that evening when a kiss turned into a full-grown make-out session for her to realize that something deeper than just friendship was going on between Emma and her.

---

Regina came home early that evening. Work had been less busy than usual and so, when she received the message from Emma that she had prepared a surprise for her, she managed to shut down fairly quickly.

The second she stepped through the front door, Emma ran up to her, one of Regina's aprons tied around her waist, flour in her hair.

"Regina!" she said, smiling one of the dazzling smiles that always made Regina want to kiss her. Fortunately, Emma had the same idea, quickly pulling the mayor in to press their lips together in a kiss that, as usual, lasted too short and left Regina wanting more.

"Today is Regina-feel-good day," Emma said cheerily, her hand still resting on Regina's waist, "You go take a bath, I prepare dinner."

"Today is what?" Regina asked, though she had understood the blonde very well and already felt her body go warm with affection.

"Regina-feel-good day," Emma repeated and grinned, "I figured you work so much, you should have a day where everyone appreciates what you do. Kind of like mother's day, except you're not my mother."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Regina rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back a smile. And then she leaned in for just one more kiss, before she finally took off coat and boots.

Emma watched her with a taunting smile, "And here I thought you'd be glad."

"I am glad over dinner, as long as it is not burnt..." Regina teased, loving the way Emma's eyes went wide and she sprinted back to the kitchen.

"Bath, upstairs," she called back over her shoulder and Regina shook her head, smiling, then made her way upstairs.

Emma had bought a new bubble bath, and Regina sighed contently as she let herself sink into the hot water that smelled deliciously of apples. She hadn't even realized how long it had been since she'd had a bath and now that she was in the tub, she felt she didn't want to leave it ever again. It was only when a new smell reached her nose, and Emma called for dinner, that she reluctantly pulled the plug.

She walked down the stairs in sweatpants and a loose shirt (wellness day was wellness day, after all), and was delighted to see the dinner table set professionally with several plates, sets of cutlery, and wine glasses for the three of them, even though Henry’s was filled with water.

"Voilà," Emma said, leading her to her chair. She too had changed into comfortable clothes, and there was still flour in her hair, which Regina couldn't resist reaching up to gently brush it out.

As soon as she was sat, Henry appeared with the first course - a giant salad bowl.

"I wanted to make soup first, but we kind of have stew for the main course, so I figured salad would do," Emma explained quickly, but Regina was already smiling, and she reached for Emma's hand to squeeze it slightly.

"It's perfect, thank you," she whispered and Henry and Emma exchanged a victorious grin.

The main course was indeed stew. Emma had actually got around to chop loads of vegetables, even though she had always claimed she hated chopping.

"I tried to do Ratatouille, but it ended up being more of a vegetable stew than anything," she smiled sheepishly, and Regina just had to kiss her, in front of Henry and everything.

"Not dating, huh?" the boy murmured, and still it didn't register with Regina.

No, it took until after dessert (cinnamon rolls, because Emma admitted that she would never dare make something apple-related for Regina), until after the massage Emma gave Regina while they were watching a political documentary, until after Henry had gone to bed around eleven, wishing them a good night with a wink; it took until they were in bed, Emma spooning Regina from behind like usual.

"Emma?" Regina whispered, unsure whether the blonde was still awake. She had, after all, had a long day full of kitchen work that she wasn't used to doing.

"Hmm?" came the answer though, and the sound vibrated through Regina's body like encouragement.

"Thank you for today. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done to me," she murmured, nevertheless grateful for the darkness providing a cover that allowed her to open up.

"No problem," Emma said and pulled her closer into the embrace, "I enjoyed cosseting you, actually."

Regina wriggled a bit to turn around, now facing Emma. The saviour's face was slightly illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the shades, and she could make out the delicate shape of her lips, her cheekbones, her forehead.

And then, before she could think twice about it, Regina closed the space between them and kissed Emma. First her collarbones, because they were closest, then up her neck to her ear, and then she covered her face in light short kisses.

Emma's eyes opened after a while, and she chuckled: "If that's how you thank me, I might turn every day into a Regina-feel-good day."

Regina barely found the time to respond "Do that" between her kisses, and suddenly the desire took over and the instincts she had held back ever since she’d first cupped Emma’s cheek kicked in. In the darkness, she found her way to Emma's mouth, the mouth she could never get enough of, the mouth she’d been seeing in her dreams. Her lips moving fervently against Emma's equally hungry ones, she finally realized that this attraction she felt to the blonde was something different than friendship entirely. The deep craving she had for Emma's touch, for her presence, the urge she felt every time she was near her, the urge to touch her, the urge to hug her and never let go, it could all have only one explanation.

She is totally and irrevocably in love with Emma Swan.

#swanqueen #swan queen #sq fanfic #swanqueen fanfiction #ouat #my writing #sq fluff #fluffy fanfiction #tbc

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wolfnitewrites · 3 years

Text

Continue this?

Before I you start reading, please read this and know that this story is a proof of concept thing. It may not turn into a full story unless I get support on this post. If you like this post, reblog it so others can find it. THANKS! Now, onto the story.

Finally, this was what I have been waiting for. I watched the clock on the wall of the classroom. Tick. Tick. Tick. Every second felt like hours. It was the final five minutes of school. The teacher was in the front, using the chalkboard explaining our summer work. Who uses a chalkboard anymore anyway? None of the class was paying attention. Well they were, but not to what they were supposed to be looking at. Everyone stared at the clock on the wall. Waiting so patiently. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I looked around the class. I saw sweat dripping down their faces. Everyone was twitching, ready to leap out of their seats and run out the door as soon as the bell rang. I was glad people were exatic to get out of school. I wasn’t as much.

My family helps run a small company were a crew of people look for remains of old crashes of plains and sunken ships in the water. It's called Project Pacific. This year my family wants to ruin my summer and make me go searching for items in the sea. This summer isn’t going to be fun at all. I had nothing to look forward to at all.

“RING!” That was it, the bell finally went off. Our science teacher, Mr. Peters was still trying to present something but he was cut short by everyone leaving as soon as possible. What could he do anyway? It was the final minutes of school. It wasn’t like he was gonna make us stay in detention anyway, everyone wanted to go home.

“Is that who I think it is?” A voice cut through the air like a knife cutting vegetables, or a bullet being shot at a firing range. To me, it was more like a bullet being shot at a firing range, but I was the target.

“It is!” The voice yelled again. I have been tormented over and over again by this kid since the first grade. God how I hated everything about him. I never had one normal day of schooling in my life thanks to him.

“Come on Jay,” I yelled back. “It’s the last day of school, do you really want to do this now?” That wasn’t even a question though. I had already known the answer before I even asked it. I tried making a break for the front door before he could lunge at me, hoping I could make it close enough for the principal to do something about it. I quickly realized that I was too slow for that though. He always catches up to me. No matter how fast I try to run. I was a frail child and was horrible at any physical activity.

“What’s up loser?” He spoke in this condescending way. I knew if I said the wrong thing, my ass would be on the ground. And I will be wailing in pain on the ground as he laughs at my expense.

“Uh, the sky obviously.” That was the worst mistake I have made this year. I should’ve remembered he never liked joking around. Before I could even turn to look at the angry expression on his face, I had gotten thrown to the ground. Lying there defenceless as he beat the crap out of me. No one came to help me. It felt like he had broken all my bones in my body with only a couple kicks. No teachers, or kids helped me. All of the students that passed us in the hall giggled and went along.

I tried to get up, but got kicked straight in the face. My body ached in pain as I felt more and more kicks going into my side, chest and getting my legs stomped on. I learned to cope with the pain. I tried to scream out for help but the pain in my body was too much.

“No crying,” I told myself. “You’ll only fuel his need for torment.”

I think everyone in the school had already left besides me. And Jay. My body felt like I was shot fifty times by someone who very much wanted me to die. Like I was stabbed fifty times in the chest.

As I turned over to my stomach, I saw. Blood. Dripping on the floor, from my face. This is the worst beating I have ever got from Jay, and they were all pretty bad. This was a new level though.

“Did that asshole wear cleats or steel toe boots just to kick the crap out of me?” I thought to myself. You would think that would be a crazy thought, but that would not be the stupidest thing he had done just to hurt me. I don’t think he wanted me dead just yet. He still had to beat me up more in the future.

When he finally walked away, I tried to stand. But I slipped on my own blood on the floor. I could barely move my arms. My vision was getting blurrier by the second. I tried to scream for help one last time, but I couldn’t. I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in the Jungle. You could see trees and plants as far as the eye could see. It looked amazing. It looked like something out of a movie. Truly, it looked like it was on another planet covered in the purest green. I quickly checked my legs, stomach and felt around my face. No broken bones or bruises.

“Is this a dream?” I wondered to myself as I wondered about the beautiful landscape. I walked for a bit then I saw some people sitting, looking off into the abysse of trees and bushes. I went closer to them. I felt super tired, the sun beating on my head and the occasional breeze all made me drowsy. I had a lot of questions and I needed answers.

When I reached them, their necks looked as rough as bark on a tree. Rough enough to cut your hand if you just did so much as touch it. There was a dim light glowing from the center of where they were sitting. Progressively getting brighter and brighter. It was the prettiest light show I have ever seen.

The wooden people turned their necks to face me.

“Touch the light.”

“Who said that?” I looked at the wooden people, one of them was looking straight in my eyes.

“Touch the light, young one.” The wooden man grabbed my arm, cutting me in the process. “Ow!” I yelled, but the wooden man didn’t care. He was forcing my hand closer and closer to the light. I tried to resist him, but every escape attempt I tried to do, he tightened his grip.

Then. I touched it. The wooden man had made me touch the light.

“Listen, young one,” The man said. “There is an evil out in the world somewhere and this power will help you fight it. These other men here are the past wielders of this power. You must train your body to control this power and fight this evil.” After that, he was gone. They were gone, then the whole landscape started to fade into blackness. I still had so many questions.

“What is this power, what is this great evil.”

#proof of concept #fiction #thriller #short #short story #easy to read

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malarkay · 3 years

Text

To Walk With Dreams and Darkness

Chapter two up! For the perusal of the two of you who are actually seeing this and, presumably, reading it. Thanks, gatorkid509 and yami268!

Chapter 2: Goodbyes and Greetings

Piper pushed her eggs around her plate as she tried to decide how to tell her family about her being magical. "Hey, eat up," Robert told her as he deposited a pancake onto her plate and dusted it with confectioner sugar. "Florence said the train leaves at 11:00 sharp, with or without you on it."

"I'm just not very hungry," she told him as he gave Finn and Aaron each a pancake before returning to the stove to get a new batch from Agatha. She had barely finished her sentence before Finn snatched the pancake from her plate. "Hey!"

"What? You said you aren't hungry. I am!"

"Finn, we do not steal food off other people's plates in this house," Agatha chided from where she was pouring the last bit of batter into the pan.

"But she didn't want it!"

"Yes, I did!"

"You're only saying that because I took it!"

"It's a pancake! Of course I wanted it!"

"Then don't say you're not hungry!"

"You don't have to be hungry to eat a pancake!"

"It helps!"

Beside Finn, Aaron just shook his head slowly as he quietly ate his own breakfast. Robert came back and gave her two pancakes, then added another one to Aaron's plate.

"What about me?"

Robert gave Finn 'The Look' and waited.

"May I please have another pancake?"

"Yes, you may, thank you for asking so politely," Robert told him, giving him one more. He added the rest to his own plate while Agatha came to join them with her own.

"Are you excited, Piper?" she asked.

"Nervous."

"That's understandable. I think everyone is feeling a bit out of sorts this morning," Agatha said, looking at Finn, whose brow was furrowed in a frown as he shovelled food into his mouth.

"You're going to be just fine," Robert said. "People are going to love you."

She smiled at him, and breakfast finished up without any further arguments.

Ms Davies arrived a little after 9:00 and pulled her aside as Robert loaded her things into the boot of their car. "Have you told them?"

"Not yet. I didn't want them to think I was crazy, so I thought I'd wait until we get to King's Cross Station. If what Professor Skeelur told me about how to get onto the platform is right, then there's no denying that magic is real when they see it for themselves."

"Well, you're not wrong about that," Ms Davies agreed.

All six of them couldn't fit into one car, so they split up for the ride to King's Cross. She and Aaron went with Ms Davies, while the Wrights took Finn with them.

"Promise me you'll write," Aaron told her as they drove.

"Of course I'll write," she assured him.

"Every week."

"I'll do my best, as long as you do the same."

"I will. And if you have any problems with any of the other kids and you can't handle it, not that you won't be able to handle it, but if you can't, let me know. I'll come up there, and I'll deal with them!"

She laughed.

"I mean it!"

"I know you do. That's very sweet, but I don't think you're going to have to."

Once at King's Cross, they reunited with the others. "Where'd you put your ticket, Piper?" Robert asked her. "We need the platform number."

"Um, about that," Piper said, pulling her ticket out of the messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder. "There's something you need to know first."

"You're having second thoughts?" Finn asked.

"No. It's just the school I'm going to; it's no ordinary school."

"Pfft, okay, we knew that already. It's for super-smart kids like you," Finn said dismissively.

"Not exactly. It's, well, it's easier if I show you. We need to get to Platform 9 ¾."

She watched for their reactions. Robert and Agatha exchanged concerned glances before looking to Ms Davies for confirmation. Aaron looked confused while Finn laughed. "Good one, Piper. Seriously, is it platform 9 or 10?"

"Platform 9 ¾," Ms Davies confirmed. "You have to run at the wall that separates platforms 9 and 10."

"I'm sorry? Florence, we've known each other a long time, but this sounds absurd," Robert said.

"You want us to run into a wall?" Agatha asked.

"No, I want us to run through a wall."

The Wrights still looked rightfully sceptical, so Piper spoke up. "Let's just go, and then Aaron, Finn and I will show you."

Robert shook his head but gestured for her to lead the way. "Alright, but I really don't want to spend the rest of the day in hospital while the three of you get patched up."

For their parts, Aaron and Finn looked excited at the prospect of either running through or into a brick wall. When they got to the column between the two platforms, they backed up to give themselves a good running start. "Okay, on the count of three," Aaron said. "One."

"You're really not even a little bit hesitant?" she asked them.

"No, we trust you. Two."

"This is the stupidest thing we've done all week!" Finn said, grinning.

She glanced over to her foster parents. Agatha was shielding her eyes from what she must assume would be imminent disaster. Robert stood with a hand covering his mouth, looking perplexed.

"Three!"

They raced each other to the column, and when they reached the brick, there was a moment of darkness as they passed through, and then they were on the other side. The platform was packed with families seeing their children off to school. On the tracks behind them was the Hogwarts Express, an impressive-looking steam locomotive, all shiny red and black and looking brand new even though she had read that it was 150 years old.

"Awesome!" Finn yelled, drawing several eyes toward them. "This…this is magic! You're magic?"

"I'm magic!"

"The school you're going to is a magical school?"

"Yes."

"That's so cool! And unfair! Why can't we be magic, too?"

"It's a rare gift," Ms Davies said from behind them. They turned to see that she and the Wrights had made the journey through the platform. The Wrights were looking around as if they thought they were having a shared nervous breakdown.

"Aww."

"By the way, the school isn't named Saint Cyprian's," Piper explained to the Wrights and Aaron while Finn was busy pouting. "It's called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When you write, just put my name and the school's name on the envelope and drop it into the post. Professor Skeelur said it will get to me."

"I don't understand. That professor didn't look like a wizard," Agatha said faintly.

"To be fair, Ag, Piper doesn't look like a witch," Robert replied.

"None of them do," Aaron said, looking around. "Aren't witches supposed to be green? With warts?"

A girl a few years older than them shot him a dirty look as she passed, shaking her head. "Bloody stupid Muggles," she muttered under her breath.

Piper crossed her arms, "That's just in the movies."

"They do dress kinda funny, though," Finn said, getting over his disappointment.

It was true. While everyone was wearing Muggle clothes, not everyone was doing a very convincing job of it. Most of the kids had managed to pull together a look that wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. The same couldn't be said for the adults. One woman in the crowd was wearing an elaborate ball gown, which wouldn't automatically be a problem except that it was 10:50 in the morning on a Wednesday.

"Well, they do have their own world that's separate from ours," Piper reasoned. "It makes sense they dress a little differently."

"As much as I'd love to stand here and discuss wizard fashion, we better get you and your luggage boarded," Robert said. "The train leaves soon."

Piper nodded and turned to Aaron first, hugging him. "I'm going to miss you," she told him.

"I'm going to miss you, too. But you'll be back for Christmas. And we're going to write each other all the time," he reminded her. "It'll be like you never left!"

She let him go and turned to Finn.

"Well, I'm not gonna miss you even a little," Finn said.

"Good, because I'm not going to miss you either."

"I suppose you expect a hug."

"This is the last time we're going to see each other for the next three and a half months, but I'm not going to twist your arm."

He scoffed and hugged her, surprising her a little with the fierceness of it. She hugged him back just as tightly, and he buried his face in her shoulder. She felt a bit of dampness seep through her shirt. "Are you crying?" she whispered, even as she felt her own eyes start to sting.

"No," he lied.

They broke apart after a long moment, and Aaron threw an arm around Finn's shoulders as she went to hug Agatha goodbye. She even hugged Ms Davies. Once her goodbyes were said, she and Robert went and got her trunk settled into the luggage van. After that, there was nothing left to do but board the train herself.

Students crowded the corridor, congregating to greet old friends or looking for a compartment to settle down in.

She picked her way slowly down the corridor, searching for a seat. The compartments were filling up fast, but she managed to come across one that carried only three occupants, two boys and a girl who all looked to be fellow incoming first years.

"Do you mind if I sit in here?"

The three looked at her appraisingly before exchanging glances, coming to an unspoken consensus. One of the boys, a stocky kid with shaggy brown hair, spoke, "Compartment's full."

She put her hands on her hips, frowning at the blatant lie. If they didn't want her around, the least they could do was have the guts to be honest about it. "It doesn't look full to me."

The group's spokesperson scowled, but it quickly shifted into a grin as he looked over her shoulder and waved to someone behind her. "Lark! Saved you a seat!"

Piper glanced around and spotted the girl from the wand shop. Their eyes met, but if she recognized her, she did a good job of not showing it. "How very thoughtful of you, Alex," she said dryly as she slipped past Piper to join them.

"You know me, always thinking," the boy said. "Besides, I haven't seen you since you've been back. We've got a lot to catch up on." He looked back to the doorway, feigning surprise that Piper was still there. "I thought I already told you that there's no more room. Find somewhere else to be. Oh, and close the door for us on your way out, would you?"

"Close it yourself!" Piper turned on her heels and stormed off. Her departure was met with a chorus of snickers from the group. In her annoyance, she failed to watch where she was going and ended up nearly bowled over a lanky boy with ginger hair.

"Whoa!" He reached out to take hold of her shoulders, steadying them both after their collision. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she snapped and immediately felt terrible. "Sorry I ran into you," she told him more gently.

"It's okay. And are you sure you're fine? Because I might not be if I had to deal with that gang of tossers."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You saw that?"

"Yeah. You're better off, honestly. You don't want to be friends with them."

"You know them?"

"Well, no, not personally," he admitted with a slight frown. "More by reputation. Come on, let's find somewhere to sit, then we can talk more."

She trailed along behind him until he found a compartment that was empty save for a blonde girl.

"Mind if we join you?" he asked her.

"Not at all. I'm Dierdra Macmillan."

"Bill Weasley. And this is," he paused to let Piper introduce herself.

"Piper Cochran," she said, sitting next to Dierdra. Bill sat across from them.

"Is this your first year at Hogwarts?" Dierdra asked. They both nodded. "Mine, too. I can't wait! What House do you think you'll be sorted into?"

"My mum and dad were both in Gryffindor," Bill answered. "It wouldn't surprise me if I'm put there."

"My father was in Ravenclaw, my mother in Hufflepuff. But I'm not sure where I'll be placed, honestly."

Piper's face grew hot as they spoke. She curled up in her seat and tried to stay out of the conversation, but Bill had other plans.

"I'd wager Piper is going to be sorted into Gryffindor. You should have seen how she had a run-in with a group of bullies and didn't let them intimidate her," he grinned.

Dierdra's face twisted as if she'd been force-fed a lemon. "Bet I can guess who you're talking about. Alex Nott and his friends? I saw them earlier."

"Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately. We're distant cousins on our mothers' sides. Not distant enough for our paths to never cross, sadly. He's always been an insufferable prat."

"My condolences."

"Thank you. Anyway, I don't understand why the Ministry is even allowing the children of Death Eaters to attend Hogwarts."

Bill shrugged. "You can't really punish them for what their parents did, can you?"

Piper chewed her lip as curiosity warred with her embarrassment over not understanding what they were talking about. In the end, curiosity won. "What's a Death Eater?"

Dierdra looked at her in surprise before realization lit her face. "Oh, you're Muggle-born! Why didn't you say so? Death Eaters were followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Piper's lack of comprehension must have shown because Dierdra elaborated, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a dark wizard who believed Pure-bloods should rule the world. A lot of good people who disagreed with that died in the war against him."

Piper gaped at her, "There was a war? When?" How could there have been an entire war going on right under their noses, and they had never noticed?

"It went on for practically our whole lives. It just ended last October when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was finally stopped. As for his followers, a lot of them have been sent to Azkaban."

"And a lot of others managed to lie their way out of trouble," Bill added.

"Or buy their way out of it," Dierdra added with distaste. "And who knows how many others are out there who haven't been caught yet?"

"So those kids back there, you're saying their parents are Death Eaters?"

Dierdra shrugged, "The Ministry suspected Thaddeus Nott of being one. They even put him on trial, but in the end, they couldn't prove it. That's Alex's uncle, though. They never suspected his father, but as someone who has met the man, I can tell you that the odds are good that he was one, too. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"The Cyclonis' definitely were," Bill said. "It was a real shock when that came out after they died. Cyneric Cyclonis had a good reputation within the Ministry. My dad works there, too. He says a lot of people thought it was only a matter of time before he'd run for Minister for Magic and that he'd probably win."

"How'd they die?"

"No one knows. My dad says it was probably You-Know-Who," Bill answered. "He'd do that, sometimes, kill his own followers if they upset him badly enough."

"Was there never an investigation?"

"There was, but…"

"But what?"

"But they were Death Eaters. The Ministry wasn't going to put too much effort into solving the murder of a couple of Death Eaters, no matter how popular they may have been before their secret came out," Dierdra finished bluntly when Bill hesitated.

"That's awful."

"A lot of awful things happened in the war," Dierdra said, in a tone that suggested that the story they had just told her was amongst the least of them.

Piper knew what it felt like to lose both parents. Dierdra may not feel any sympathy toward Lark, but Piper couldn't help it. But the way that Bill and Dierdra spoke made the Death Eaters sound more like terrorists than soldiers in a war. She couldn't make herself feel too bad for Lark's parents in that case. Still, it'd drive her crazy if her parents were murdered, and no one cared enough to find out who did it or why.

"You still with us, Piper?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

"That was a lot of information we hit you with all at once," Bill said apologetically. "I'm sure the school library will have old copies of The Daily Prophet if you want to read up on the war. Some of the stories are pretty bad, though."

Piper nodded, "I'll take a look. I want to be able to understand what people are talking about, after all."

"You'll get used to the wizarding world pretty quickly," Dierdra assured her. "It can't be all that different from the Muggle one, can it?"

Piper laughed. Just from what she'd seen so far, she knew they were very different. "You have no idea."

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Piper looked toward the door where a kindly looking old woman stood with a trolley laden with sweets.

"I brought something from home, thank you," she said.

"Me, too," Bill said.

"What?" Dierdra sounded absolutely scandalized. "Piper, you at least have to get your first chocolate frog." She hopped out of her seat and handed the trolley attendant some money. "Three chocolate frogs, please."

She was handed three fancy looking boxes. She passed one to Piper, one to Bill, and retook her seat with the third.

"Thanks, Dierdra, but you really didn't need to buy us anything," Piper said.

"But I wanted to. Open it up! Each chocolate frog comes with a collectable card."

Piper pulled off the seal that held the box closed and flipped open the lid. As she did, the chocolate frog within leapt right out of the box. She made a grab for it, snatching it out of midair before it could hit the ground.

"Whoa, nice reflexes!" Bill exclaimed.

She held the squirming frog out at arm's length. "Is it supposed to do that?" she yelped.

Dierdra covered her mouth. She was trying not to laugh and not doing a good job of it. "Sorry! I know I should have warned you, but I really wanted to see your reaction."

"The frogs are enchanted," Bill explained with a grin. "They're fine to eat once they stop moving."

Piper tentatively opened her hand. Luckily, the frog's enchantment really had worn off, and she was able to put the now still frog back in the box after retrieving the card.

She looked down at the pentagonal card. A blonde-haired woman wearing an old-fashioned aviator cap and goggles smiled up at her. At the bottom of the card read the name Jocunda Sykes. As she watched, the woman waved and snapped off a little salute.

"They're animated!"

"Well, sure, why wouldn't they be?"

She flipped the card over. There was a little blurb about Jocunda's accomplishments printed there. She was the first witch the fly across the Atlantic Ocean on a broom back in 1935. Piper thought that sounded like a lot of fun.

"Are we going to learn how to fly on a broom at Hogwarts?"

"Of course! Not only that, but if you're any good at it, you can try out for your House Quidditch team."

"Quidditch? Oh! There was a shop in Diagon Alley that had that in its name, but I didn't think to ask what it meant."

Dierdra and Bill grinned at each other.

"You might as well get your lunch out and make yourself comfortable; we've got a lot to talk about."

~*~*~

Talk they did, until some older students came along, walking down the corridor and knocking on doorframes. "One hour to Hogsmeade Station. Time to start thinking about changing into your robes."

Dierdra pointed a finger out into the corridor. "Out, Bill. We'll change first."

Bill went to stand out in the corridor, and Dierdra slid the door closed, pulling down the window shade.

They changed into their uniforms without much chin-wagging, so they didn't keep Bill waiting too long. Piper had to admit that she felt a little silly as she slipped her robes over her uniform.

Once ready, they swapped places with Bill. By the time they were all dressed, the older students were making their rounds again. "Half an hour to Hogsmeade Station! Make sure you have everything you brought with you! The train won't be coming back until the Christmas holiday!"

Before she knew it, the train was pulling into the station. They made their way to the exit and stepped out into the night. The station bustled with activity.

"All luggage and pets over there! They will be brought to your dormitories!"

"Second through seventh years, make your way to the carriages! Four students per carriage, please! We won't have a repeat of last year! Looking at you, fifth-year Gryffindors!"

"Firs' years? Firs' years this way, follow me!"

Piper and the others followed the sound of the last booming voice and discovered that it belonged to an immense man with long dark hair and a beard. He was broad, but more than that, he was tall. Taller by far than anyone she had ever seen before. Twice her height, easily, and then some!

Looking around, she saw many of the others openly gawking at him. So, some things took even wizarding children by surprise. Good to know.

He led them to the edge of a lake, where a small fleet of rowboats waited.

"Alrigh' then, in the boats yeh go!" he told them, overseeing them all. They sat four to a boat. Piper, Bill and Dierdra were joined by a boy who introduced himself as Liam Logue.

Once all the first years settled into their boats, the giant man stepped into one of his own. It creaked loudly under his weight but stayed afloat. His boat moved of its own accord, pulling out in front of all the others, and all the other boats followed.

She looked out over the lake to their destination and inhaled sharply. An expansive castle rose from the craggy shores at the far side of the lake. A gibbous moon rose into the clear, starry skies behind it, casting its glowing reflection into the lake in front of them. It was beautiful. A low murmur of appreciation rippled through the fleet of boats at the view.

As they drew nearer to the castle, the man called out, "Watch yer heads!"

She ducked slightly as the boat glided through an ivy-covered opening in the cliff. They sailed on through an underground tunnel before coming to a stop on a rocky shore. They climbed out and followed the man up a flight of stone steps to a heavy wooden door. The man knocked three times, loudly, and the door swung open.

They followed him into a large entry hall, coming to a stop in front of a strict looking woman with her black hair pulled into a tight bun.

"Professor McGonagall," the man greeted. "The new firs' years for yeh."

"Thank you, Hagrid," the woman replied. "Follow me," she said to them. She led them across the large entrance hall, stopping before another large door.

She turned to address them. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. But first, there are a few things you should know. There are four houses at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each of you will be sorted into one of these houses, where you will remain throughout your years here. Over the course of the year, you will have many opportunities to win your house points. Any misbehaviour, however, may lead to the deduction of points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup. Now then, are you all ready?"

They all nodded, and Professor McGonagall pushed open the doors, striding into the Great Hall beyond. They trailed after her, and Piper stared in wonder. Four long tables stretched along the length of the hall, two on each side of the walkway they followed the professor down. Dozens of kids already sat at each table, watching them. At the head of each table hung a banner depicting what she assumed was each house's crest. Green and silver emblazoned with a serpent, blue and bronze with an eagle, scarlet and gold with a lion, and yellow and black with a badger.

Hundreds of candles floated in midair above them, casting a soft flickering glow throughout the hall. The ceiling, well, she wasn't sure there was a ceiling. It looked exactly like the night sky had outside. Even the phase of the moon was the same.

Upon a raised dais, at the front of the hall, sat another long table where the teaching staff sat. She spotted Professor Skeelur amongst them and tried not to gawk. His hair was styled into a tousled quiff; the long top section dyed green while the shorter sides were purple. Even his goatee was purple. He was dressed in robes, black with silver trim on the outside, but with a violently fluorescent lime green lining that glared out from the inside of his hood and sleeves. She could just imagine the look on her foster mother's face if he had shown up to their house looking like that. Aaron and Finn would think it was the wickedest thing ever, though. She felt a twinge at the thought of them. She really wished they could be here, too.

In front of the table, right in the centre of the dais, sat a stool with a wide-brimmed, pointed hat sitting atop it. The hat looked ancient and worn, and she wondered what purpose it served in all of this.

Professor McGonagall led them right up to the steps leading up to the dais before climbing the steps herself to stand behind the stool.

An expectant silence fell over the hall, and after a moment, the hat began to sing. Because, of course it did.

Before I Sort you all tonight, there's one thing to make clear,

A note to both the tall and small that I find apt this year.

When Godric, Helga, Rowena and Salazar began,

They joined forces to achieve their illustrious grand plan.

For all four were well aware that they could not unaided,

See their great ambition reached; they were not yet so jaded.

So all together they succeeded in their common quest,

To build a school that the wizarding world would name the best.

And while it's true that each had certain values that they sought,

When it came time to fill these halls, it's everyone they taught.

So, while it is my job to place in Ravenclaw the wise,

And make sure that it is the true that Hufflepuff comprise,

And while in Gryffindor it is that boldness must reside,

And into Slytherin go those whose aspirations guide,

I bid you to remember that united we are strong,

And don't forget that each and every one of you belongs.

"When I call your name, come up and take a seat on the stool," Professor McGonagall said once the hat fell silent. She retrieved a scroll of parchment from a pocket in her robes, unrolled it, and called the first name.

"Agarwal, Arjun."

A nervous-looking boy wearing a black turban climbed the steps and took a seat, and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. They all waited in eager anticipation to see what would happen next. They weren't kept waiting long. About fifteen seconds later, the hat called out, "Hufflepuff!"

The kids at the yellow and black table broke into applause, and the boy smiled and hopped off the stool to join them.

She watched as the same scene played out for a couple more kids, and then the professor called out, "Avery, Josephine."

Piper frowned. She recognized the plump, bespectacled girl as part of the group that had rebuffed her on the train.

Less than ten seconds went by before the hat yelled, "Slytherin!"

The green and silver table burst into loud applause as she joined them.

"Boo!" someone called from the scarlet and gold table, and Professor McGonagall shot them a look that Piper was very happy to not be on the receiving end of.

"Decorum, ladies and gentlemen," the professor said sharply. "This is your one reminder! Brimble, Claudia."

"Gryffindor!"

That was met with riotous celebration by the scarlet and gold table.

Bryne, Elliott and a pair of twins by the name Cadwallader all went to Hufflepuff. And then...

"Cochran, Piper.'

She slowly mounted the steps and sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head, and the brim slipped down over her eyes, obstructing her view of the Great Hall.

She nearly jumped when a voice spoke to her. 'Let's see what's in this head of yours, shall we? Hmmm, interesting. You're quite intelligent, aren't you? I see a great deal of curiosity. You're studious and creative. You'd do very well in Ravenclaw. Very well, indeed.'

She waited for the hat to shout that out to the rest of the room. Instead, the hat spoke again.

'Not so fast. I'm not done with you yet. There's more here. I see bravery. I see a desire to do the right thing. You're someone who won't tolerate injustice when you see it, who won't back down from a fight. Fine traits in a Gryffindor.'

Again, she waited for the hat to make its announcement, and again it did not.

'I haven't decided yet. You're a difficult case. I believe you'd excel in either house. But what about you? What do you think?'

'I don't know,' she thought to the hat. 'I don't know enough about either house to decide.'

'You don't need to know anything about them. You just need to know yourself. What matters to you?'

'I don't know!' she thought, frustrated. 'I want...'

'Yes?'

'I want to feel like I'm part of something, like a team or a family. I already miss mine. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about learning magic. Really, really excited! But I worry I'll end up too homesick to enjoy it.'

'I see. Each house is like a family to its members, but it is true that some form closer bonds than others. Of the four, Ravenclaw is the most individualistic. And so, I believe, the matter is settled.'

"Gryffindor!"

The hat was pulled off her head, and she made her way to the cheering Gryffindor table.

"I told you!" Bill said as she passed him, and they grinned at each other.

She found a place to sit at the table, getting handshakes and backslaps from everyone within arm's reach. She couldn't stop smiling as she turned her attention back to the sorting.

"Coventry, Maximus."

That did make her smile falter a bit. The scrawny kid with dark, curly hair who took his place on the sorting stool was the other silently judgmental boy from the train. It came as no surprise to her when the hat called out, "Slytherin!"

"Everyone is getting sorted so fast," she commented to an older girl who sat next to her. "When I was up there, it felt like it took forever!"

"You actually were up there for a while," the girl told her. "Close to two minutes. Some people aren't as easy for the hat to figure out as others. It's not a bad thing. The hat wants to make sure you end up in the house that's right for you. I don't think I'd trust it if it sorted everyone in five seconds."

"I suppose that's true," Piper conceded as she turned her attention back to the ceremony.

"Cyclonis, Larkspur."

Piper expected her to be sorted as quickly as the Coventry boy, but ten seconds passed, and the hat remained silent. Fifteen seconds. Thirty. A minute. It was a minute and a half before the hat made its decision.

"Slytherin!"

"See?" the older girl told her reassuringly. "It's not uncommon."

The sorting went on for some time. Their boat mate Liam went to Hufflepuff. Dierdra ended up in Ravenclaw. Alexander Nott landed in Slytherin. Eventually, the group was whittled down to three.

"Weasley, William."

The hat had scarcely settled on his head before it declared, "Gryffindor!"

He took a seat across from her and smiled. "Mum and Dad will be happy."

Winters, Gideon was sorted into Hufflepuff and Woodlock, Aisling into Ravenclaw. And with that, the sorting was complete.

The stool and hat were replaced with an elaborate owl lectern, and a man stepped up to address the room. He looked exactly how she expected a wizard to look. He was a tall, thin man draped in midnight blue robes, with long white hair and a long beard. He studied them through gold-framed, half-moon glasses.

"I'd like to start with a brief announcement. As many of you may have already noticed, Professor Skeelur has returned to us. He will not be resuming his role as Divination professor, however, as Professor Trelawney will be staying on in that position. Instead, he will be taking over the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Professor Skeelur stood and gave a jaunty bow as the students applauded.

"Now then, for those of you who may not know, I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school, and it is my pleasure to welcome you all to a new year at Hogwarts. You know, I've always found the beginning of a new school year to be a magical time, a time of new beginnings and new possibilities. And this year, I feel it even more keenly. We have been through tumultuous times in recent years. For some of you, that is all you've ever known. But we have weathered that storm. Those days are behind us now, and we are free to look to the future with a renewed sense of hope. And that is what I feel when I look at all of you now. Hope. The hope that we can help guide you into becoming the best possible versions of yourselves. You are the future of the wizarding world, and it is my fervent wish that your future is a bright one, one full of peace, and prosperity, and progress. That is the world you deserve to know."

He paused, letting his words sink in as his gaze slowly swept across the hall.

When he spoke again, his tone was more light-hearted, "But that's enough talk for one night. Enjoy the feast!"

With those words, a multitude of steaming serving bowls and platters laden with food appeared in the centre of the table.

She helped herself to a slice of roast beef and one of baked ham, roast potatoes with garlic and rosemary, Yorkshire pudding, peas and glazed carrots and tucked in for a night of good food and conversation.

She discovered that the older girl she had spoken to during the sorting was a fifth-year prefect named Cathy Wells. She assured Piper and the other first years within earshot that they could come to her with any questions or concerns.

She also learned that two other first years at the table were Muggle-born and just as excited as she was to be here learning real magic. Connor Monohan was from Wexford, Ireland, while Edgar Grant was from Leeds. When they found out that she was from Brixton, they wanted to know all about her experience with the riots from the previous summer. Her foster parents had kept her and her brothers well clear of the violence, but she told them what she could of those days and their aftermath. The conversation fascinated the wizarding kids, who didn't seem to grasp the concept of racial tension until one of the older Muggle-born students compared it to Pure-bloods versus Muggle-borns. That had everyone chiming in with their own stories from that same summer. Apparently, the Death Eaters had been particularly emboldened in the months leading up to You-Know-Who's downfall.

Cathy only let the conversation get so far before she steered it away from the grim turn it had taken. No one complained.

The dinner dishes vanished as Bill told them funny stories of his five little brothers and baby sister. In their place, an entire spread of pudding appeared. Being stuffed from dinner didn't stop her from taking a slice of Victoria sponge cake.

About half an hour later, all the plates disappeared. Professor McGonagall, who Piper had learned was both Deputy Headmistress and the Head of Gryffindor, announced that it was time for the prefects to lead their houses to the dormitories.

Piper followed Cathy out of the Great Hall and off to the staircases. "Pay attention," Cathy instructed them. "The staircases change, and you don't want to get lost on the way to Gryffindor Tower later when you're all on your own."

Sure enough, as Piper watched, some of the staircases overhead shifted from one landing to another. "We're this way," Cathy pointed out before mounting the steps. "Seventh floor."

She led them up several flights of stairs and down a hallway to another spiral staircase that led to a large landing where a portrait of a large woman hung on the wall.

"The Fat Lady guards our common room entrance," Cathy explained.

"Password?" the portrait requested.

"Frabjous day!"

"Callooh! Callay!" the Fat Lady replied with a delighted laugh, and the portrait swung open to reveal a round door that opened into a circular common room. The room was warm and cosy, with a fire roaring in a large fireplace. A lion portrait hung above the mantle, and the walls were lined with paintings and tapestries in varying shades of red and gold. Overstuffed scarlet chairs and sofas dotted the room. Several long tables could accommodate multiple students for studying, along with smaller side tables that held books or chessboards. Tall windows were spaced in even intervals along the walls. During the day, the common room was sure to be bathed in sunlight. A few nooks and alcoves were cut into the walls, which would lend a small amount of privacy to the few occupants they would allow. Near the door stood a message board. Cathy explained that they could find announcements such as Quidditch tryouts, club meeting schedules, and changes to the common room password posted there.

"First-year girls, follow me. I'll show you to your dorm," Cathy said. "First-year boys, follow Matthew. He'll show you to yours."

She pointed to a blond boy who looked about the same age as Cathy. The boy saluted, "Matt Higgins, at your service."

Bill and the other boys broke away from the group to follow Matt while Piper and the girls followed Cathy up a side staircase to a room that housed five four-poster beds in a circle around the room, each bed draped with heavy scarlet curtains. Their trunks were placed at the end of the beds for them, and they each had a plain wooden chair and nightstand of their own.

"Breakfast is served in the Great Hall from 6:30 to 8:30. You'll get your class timetable at breakfast tomorrow. Classes begin at 9:00. Whatever you do, don't be late! We don't want to start the year with negative house points. Curfew is between 9:00 PM and 6:00 AM, except when you have astronomy. Other than that, no wandering the castle in the middle of the night. It's against the rules, but besides that, it's dangerous. Lights out at 10:00. Bathrooms are one flight up the stairs we took to get here. Any questions?"

They all shook their heads no.

"Well then, sleep well!"

With that, Cathy left them to their own devices. They chatted as they prepared for bed. Her dormmates were Claudia Brimble, Maeve McCarver, Catriona Taggart, and Jocasta Erskine. None of them were Muggle-born, although Claudia and Catriona both had one non-magical parent, so the Muggle world wasn't a completely foreign concept to them. They all seemed friendly, and Piper thought they would probably get on well enough during their time here.

"We should probably get to sleep soon," she said as she laid out her uniform for the following day. "Like Cathy said, we don't want to be late."

The others agreed, and soon they were all tucked snugly into bed for the night.

#storm hawks #storm hawks fanfic #storm hawks aerrow #storm hawks finn #storm hawks piper #Cyclonis #arygyn the skeelur #crossover fanfic

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thepandapopo · 4 years

Text

A Step Through Time - Chapter 1: Visitor

Me: Don’t do it

Brain:

Me: Don’t do it.

Brain:

Me: We haven’t even finished the other one yet-

Brain: HERE’S A SYLVIX IDEA THAT YOU NEED TO WRITE SINCE IT’S PREVENTED YOU FROM DOING ANY MEANINGFUL WORK ALL DAY.

Me: FUCK.

Pairings: Sylvain x Felix ; minor Claude x F!Byleth

Warnings: mentions of masturbation/sex; typical Felix swearing.

Synopsis:

When Felix agreed to go back into the past to make sure certain events during the war actually happen, he expected that he would be the only time traveler at the monastery for those three moons. What he did not expect was for his 6 year old daughter to send herself to the past 4 weeks after himself because she missed him.

The one where the post time-skip gang meets an older Felix Fraldarius from the future who tells them he’s there to help for a few battles for reasons he can’t explain and everyone’s dying to figure out who the hell he’s married to - wait, what the fuck he has a daughter?

Some notes:

Verdant Wind / Azure Moon route mash up. Basically the Golden Deer Route but then at the Battle of Gronder (Ch: Blood of the Eagle and Lion), Dimitri joins up with Claude.

Dedue is back. Dimitri isn’t crazy anymore. Rodrigue is unfortunately dead.

All characters are recruited (including Black Eagle students)

Next Chapter (coming soon!)

XxXxXxXxXxX

It takes roughly two weeks for the Resistance Army to fully wrap their heads around the fact that there are not one, but two Felix Hugo Fraldarius’s at the monastery.

It takes them another week on top of that to come to terms that the newest Felix to join their army is from the future. 12 years, to be exact.

The day that Future Felix - that’s what they’ve dubbed him and he thinks it��s ridiculous; who has time to say that mouthful? - arrives knocking on the monastery gates, the entire place goes into an uproar. Claude and Byleth aren’t entirely sure whether or not this is just some dark magicks that the Empire has cooked up in a sad attempt at espionage, or if something has gone so horribly wrong in the future that they send their prickliest general back in time to whip them into shape.

Claude insists on tying him up which Felix grudgingly accepts, because of course this all seems a little far fetched - no one has ever heard of time travel magic...at this point in time anyways. And like everything else Felix does, it just makes them even more suspicious of him because the Felix they know would be hissing and spitting at them with all the fury of an angry wyvern if they even tried to touch him, much less restrain him.

Funnily enough, it’s his past self that manages to convince them that he’s the real deal.

“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Younger Felix crosses his arms and glares at his future self, as if his stare alone could dispel any illusionary magic with its withering intensity.

It’s a bit weird to be on the listening end of his scathing remarks rather than saying them. But technically he is saying them... or at least the past him is, so really is it any different?

“Well, unless you have a better idea, I think this is the best we’ve got for now.” Claude shrugs and runs a hand through his tousled hair for the millionth time that day. “If he really is you, then he should know a secret you’ve never told anyone, and you can confirm it.”

Byleth nods from her place next to the Alliance leader, “We can’t wait until Lysithea and the others find an answer in the library. It could take weeks before they can confirm that any of this is possible through magic.”

More like years, Felix thinks to himself. In his timeline, time travel magic is still a completely new thing. In fact, the only people who know anything about it are a select few that Dimitri, Byleth, Claude and Linheartd trust with their lives. The only reason he’s here now is because the green haired mage had somehow stumbled upon a rift in the flow of time while conducting some experiments. Fearing that this small bump could have dire repercussions to the past, it was decided that they would send someone back to Harpstring moon of that year to help along the events that were yet to unfold.

Between the people who knew and who were available, it ended up coming down to Felix or Sylvain.

Unanimously, they all voted for Felix. (”Hey! I’m totally trustworthy!” “We know that, Sylvain, but with your reputation for having a silver tongue, none of them will believe you.”)

And now here he was 12 years in the past, tied up to a chair in the Knights hall in front of the fireplace, patience running dangerously thin at the bickering that has been going on for hours.

“Fine,” his younger self grouses with a scowl fierce enough to make a grown man cower. “But he’s writing it down and none of you are allowed to stand close enough to read it.”

It’s a smart idea, really. And if Felix knows himself, then he knows that the quickest way to get to the end of this whole fiasco is to write down a secret his younger counterpart is too embarrassed to admit out loud.

Thankfully, Felix has plenty of those from that time.

From before things become official with Sylvain.

From before he becomes Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Gautier.

A mercifully short moment later, his hands are free and he’s rubbing at the tender muscles where the rope bit into his skin.

A small inkwell, quill, and piece of parchment are placed in front of him by a silent but wary Dedue and Felix nods in thanks before his younger self more or less shoves everyone back a good distance so they cannot read his secrets.

It is silent other than the occasional pop and crackle from the low fire. Hard, piercing Amber meets warm liquid Amber, neither willing to look away, one gaze filled with distrust and jaded bitterness, while the other watches with silent empathy and understanding.

Blame it on his husband’s bad influence, but Felix can’t help the growing desire to tease his younger self. (Which he knows is absolutely hypocritical because he hates being teased but Sylvain was right when he said it is just so easy.)

“How much do you want me to reveal?” Felix dips the tip of the quill in ink and pauses, the tip hovering over the parchment ready to spill secrets only the two of them know.

“...I’ll tell you when to stop.”

It’s a free pass to go wild, is what Felix hears.

There are so many things that he could write. Ranging from the priceless family heirloom he accidentally broke and hid when he was child all the way to some of his more embarrassing training mishaps - one of which involved him falling and stabbing himself on his own goddamn sword - but despite all of the memories that flash through his head, one in particular stands out the most.

For the second time that day, Felix curses his husband and his perverse influence before scrawling out:

Bedside table. Second drawer. Third notch - press hard to release the fake bottom.

Images of a very familiar flask of oil that has seen many restless nights flash across Felix’s mind. And if the red flush on his younger self’s face is anything to go by, he would bet everything he owned that he was also thinking the same thing.

A beat of silence. “Not enough?”

Felix is honestly a little impressed. He was sure that his secret sex drawer would be enough to mortify his younger self into believing him.

Fine then. He could bring out the heavy artillery.

The first time we realize we are in love with Sylvain is when we are 15 and figure out that the burning rage we feel every time he talks about his latest girlfriend is actually jealousy.

He pauses for a moment to look up at younger Felix. Receiving no response, he continues writing.

The first time we realize how absolutely fucked we are is the morning after the training session where Sylvain takes off his shirt and we dream about -

Ink splatters on the table and over his gloves as the parchment is unceremoniously wrenched away from him and immediately tossed into the fire.

“He’s real” are the only words the new Duke of Fraldarius manages to sputter out between the fingers hiding his burning face. The poor boy looks like he wants to spontaneously combust and also let the floor swallow him whole.

Felix almost feels bad. Almost.

----

The days following can only be described as incredibly odd as Felix wanders the familiar - yet different - grounds of Garreg Mach. He helps where he can with the chores and spends the remaining time either at the Training Grounds like usual, or just simply chatting with his friends of old.

A few times a week he will accompany the troops and assist them in their various missions eliminating bandits or Demonic beasts that have wandered too close to their base. Though he is older now, Felix has never slacked off in his training regimen, not even after the war ends, and his current skill and mastery of swords and Reason are more than enough to deal with these minor nuisances.

All in all, Felix is enjoying himself.

...Except for how much everyone keeps pestering him to reveal things about the future.

“Ooooh, do Claude and the professor finally hook up?” Hilda is leaning across the dining hall table with the biggest shit eating grin on her face, the sausage breakfast in front of her completely forgotten in favor of even juicier gossip.

Felix sighs for the umpteenth time that morning and cuts into his own plate with a bit more force than intended. “Hilda. For the last time, I can’t tell you anything specific in case it fucks up the future.”

“But you’ve already told Annette that she goes on to teach at the School of Sorcery and Mercedes opens up an orphanage!”

“Yes, and that’s because I want to make sure those things actually happen.”

“So what, you don’t want Mr. Leader Man and the Professor to finally knock boots?!”

To his right, Dimitri chokes on his toast at the mental image Hilda conjures.

Much to his relief (or dismay), Dorothea chooses this time to slide into the seat to his left along with Petra.

“Are we interrogating Future Felix again?” The Songstress doesn’t even bother hiding her mischievous glee as she eyes Felix the same way a predator would prey.

“No, we are not.” He glares at the former opera star, cursing the fact that his friends have already figured out that the years have more or less mellowed out his bark and that he has a LOT more patience before he actually bites.

“Aww, come on. It’s basically a breakfast tradition now! Nothing like a side of future gossip with my tea to get me going in the mornings.” Dorothea winks at him before a flash of flaming red near the food line catches both her and Felix’s attention.

“Hey Sylvain! Felix! Come sit with us.” She waves them over and nudges Petra to scoot over to make room.

“Is there anything you guys want to know about the future?” the pink haired Great Knight asks as soon as the pair are seated.

“Oh tons,” Sylvain winks as he picks up his fork and twirls it loosely in his hands. “But the real question is if Future Fe over there will actually answer them.”

Felix lets out a humorless snort. As if he would.

He makes a point to actively avoid his younger self as much as possible because he isn’t sure if it will affect his timeline in any way. Unfortunately, that also means that he has to avoid Sylvain.

Seriously, how did he never realize that they were basically joined at the hip? Where one went, the other was never very far.

It was a fucking miracle that no one had figured out his lifelong crush on Sylvain considering how much time they spent in each other’s company.

But then again, considering everyone’s surprise at how many of them ended up paired off after the war... maybe they were all just that blind. Or stupid.

Thank the Goddess they were all blind and stupid.

Felix manages to fend off most of their prying inquiries, snapping only a few times at Hilda and Dorothea who don’t know when to stop, but everything truly goes to hell in a handbasket when Mercedes comes by asking the group if there is any equipment or armor that needs cleaning since she’s on duty this week.

“Oh, yes actually.” Felix seizes this opportunity and begins pulling off his gloves to hand to the Bishop. “I need the ink stains removed from my gloves. I never managed to find time to properly clean them since the first night I arrived.”

He isn’t aware that he has done anything wrong until the table goes silent and everyone is staring at him, or rather his hand, with a mixture of disbelief, shock, pleasant smugness, and overall general bewilderment.

“What are you all...” His question trails off when he realizes that his wedding ring - the one that he always wears under his gloves - is now out in the open, the plain obsidian band glittering innocently in the morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

“You’re... married?!”

Oh fuck.

----

“So who’s the lucky girl?”

You like Annie. Don’t murder Annie.

Felix swings his training sword against the practice dummy and lands a clean diagonal hit.

“Ohhh, I bet it’s some noble girl from the Kingdom.”

You like Thea’s opera shows. If you kill her now, you won’t be able to see them after the war.

Stab. Feint. Slash.

“No, Felix doesn’t care for dainty noble girls who don’t know how to fight...”

Thank the Goddess Ingrid is still reliable as ever.

“Maybe it’s a guy?”

Nevermind. Ingrid is the devil.

Duck. Side step into a zig zag pattern approach. Upwards slash.

“It’s... forgive me if I am overstepping, but I am happy that you have found happiness in the future, Felix.”

Don’t kill your king. Regicide is a crime.

Retreat backwards. Dash in for the final blow.

“Yeah! Congrats Felix on finally getting laid!”

It’s only when Felix snaps his training sword in half at the blue haired warrior’s comment that his sword training session turns into a brawl training session.

----

The Fraldarius Duke has never been more relieved to receive a call to action than when Byleth rushes in not long after Future Felix gives Caspar a shiny new black eye.

“Bandits. In the sealed forest. Civilian involved. Gates, now.” is all the warning they get before she is sweeping out the training room doors, no doubt going to retrieve her own equipment.

After 5 years of being at war, they are all seasoned soldiers and as such, it doesn’t take them very long before they are rushing towards the site of the battle.

They have foregone the usual battalions in favor of only deploying their former classmates, allowing them to move much quicker through the dense vegetation.

Up ahead, they can hear low voices talking and what sounds like muffled sobbing. Byleth signals them to slow down and get into position - it’s one of their usual strategies: approach undetected, surround the enemy, and then close in to eliminate.

It isn't until they get close enough to hear the sobbing more clearly that Felix feels his heart leap up his throat.

He knows that sound. He’s heard it a million times over the past 6 years at all times of the day.

Please Goddess, he prays as he creeps closer with more urgency, ignoring Claude’s alarmed look, let me be wrong.

Of course he isn’t.

Raw panic seizes his chest as he recognizes the little girl with an ornate sword strapped to her back cornered under the jagged overhang of a large rock, her long wavy hair a crimson beacon amongst a sea of green and brown, and Felix is running before he can even formulate a plan.

“Come on, little girl... just give us the sword and we’ll let you go,”

“N-no! Papa gave m-me this sword!”

“Well then I hope you’re ready to die-”

Electricity crackles through the air and his body falls to the ground before he can finish his threat.

“Sophie!”

Large, watery honey gold eyes lock onto his and suddenly the battlefield narrows. For one agonizingly long heartbeat, Felix watches the little delicate, red nose he loves so much scrunch up, and he can already hear the tearful wail that comes next.

“PAPA!”

Then, all hell breaks loose.

---

There were very few of them that could say they had the privilege of watching the Felix from the future fight prior to the current battle. Felix - the younger Felix of this timeline - is not one of them.

However, as he watches his older self weave through the bandits like liquid steel, mercilessly cutting them down with cold rage, he cannot help but compare it to his current skill level.

He wonders how many more battles he will have to go through before he reaches that level of deadly grace.

“Watch your left!” Sylvain shouts at him from somewhere to his right and Felix grunts as he parries a hard downward strike of an axe.

His feet flow through footwork long ingrained in his mind and in the next moment, he has slipped past the bandit’s strike range and shoves his sword through his chest.

A clean, quick kill.

Felix is actually rather grateful for the distraction of a battle. But despite the battle cries and sounds of metal on metal clashing around him, he still cannot silence the one thought he’s sure is going through everyone’s mind.

He has a daughter.

He has a daughter in the future. A freaking daughter.

A little girl whose hair is unmistakably the same obnoxiously beautiful colour as those of the Gautier lineage.

Who in the actual fuck does he marry?!

The question rings in his head over and over again as he fells enemy after enemy, and by the end of the battle, he still has not found reprieve from the shock that he is grappling with in his mind.

Felix is not aware that he is unconsciously searching for familiar golden brown eyes before the knot in his chest dissolves when he spots Sylvain cleaning his lance off to the side.

But just as quickly as that knot disappears, another one takes its place.

Because as much as he loves Sylvain with all his heart, there’s no way that even if by some miracle they get married in the future that they can have a child together.

Which means that either Felix has married a distant cousin of Sylvain’s or Sylvain has a daughter that Felix somehow ends up taking care of.

And since Felix knows that he would never be able to love or marry anyone other than his childhood best friend...

...that leaves him with a very bitter pill to swallow.

----

“Papa!”

Sophie is wearing her favourite teal dress with the little swords embroidered on the hem, and even though it is now caked entirely in mud, Felix cannot bring himself to care as he falls to his knees and cradles his daughter tightly to his chest.

“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Calloused fingers fruitlessly brush away the steady stream of tears on Sophie’s blotchy cheeks, the salt water clearing some of the mud away as Felix scans for any injuries.

She shakes her head twice and continues to sob into his chest and he continues to hold her while stroking her hair gently in gentle, calming caresses. Even after this whole fiasco, Sophie’s long waves somehow look as beautiful as ever and a distant part of Felix’s brain wonders if it’s just some inherited Gautier genetic to always looks good no matter what.

“Felix! Goddess, who is that? Is she okay?” Ashe runs up to him, Mercedes and Ingrid not far behind him with equal looks of concern in their expressions.

Felix shakes his head, “I’ll answer questions later. Mercie, can you take a look over her right now and make sure she has no injuries? she says she’s okay but she’s probably still high on adrenaline.”

It is the first time in Mercedes’ life that she has seen Felix look this concerned for another person’s well being and she’s already reaching out with warm white magic even as she nods, but as soon as her hand makes contact, Sophie flinches further into Felix as if burned.

“Sophie. Sophie, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It takes a little bit more coaxing before she pulls away far enough to look at him.

“Hey,” Felix nudges her temple gently with his nose. “It’s alright. You remember Auntie Mercie, don’t you? Auntie Mercie would never hurt you. She just wants to make sure you’re not hurt, okay?”

If Mercedes has any reaction to being called Auntie, Felix is thankful that she does not outwardly show it.

“It’s okay, Sophie.” The healer flashes her a soft smile. “I promise this won’t hurt a bit!”

It’s only when Mercedes manages to start her healing spell that Felix lets the tension and fear seep out of his body.

There are so many questions clamoring around in his head, like how in the world is she here in the past and where the hell is his husband who is supposed to be watching her in his absence, but all of that will have to wait until they return to the monastery.

And, if the matching strangled, heart-broken looks on his younger self and Sylvain are anything to go off of, he’s also going to have to reveal a little more than planned if he wants to make sure that he still gets to marry the love of his life.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sorry that the ending seems a bit rushed. I’ve been working on this for 5 hours now and I just want to post it and go to bed (it’s 3AM). I promise I’ll come back to make some edits later!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

#sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #SylVix #felix x sylvain #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #byleth eisner #dimitri blaiddyd #blue lions #golden deer #azure moon #verdant wind #AU #alternate universe #alternate timeline #time travel #future felix #original character

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brucewaynehastoomanykids · 4 years

Text

Ideal Night

Request from @ravenfan1242 : "I would love a story where Superboy moves into the tower and Damian is struggling with his feelings for Raven. Con who flirts with everyone thinks Raven is absolutely beautiful but she has such an opposite (he might say frigid) personality. Until she helps him with something deep he struggles with and all of a sudden Damian has competition. And hilarity and make rivalry ensues. But Raven also has strong, hidden feelings for Damian."

_____________________________________

"Chin up, princess, or the crown slips." A voice purred above me.

I mentally groaned as I closed my book and looked up at the boy hovering over me. "You really are just so infuriating, Connor." I say plainly.

Connor only smirked. "Missing something?" He said, pointing next to me.

I looked down to see that my phone had been snatched from my side. I was surprised I hadn't noticed its absence, but then again, it's not like I was very attached to it, and I was a little too invested in my book.

I thought back to what Damian had told me just a few days ago after I had accidentally dumped into him in the hallway leading to my room: he had told me that, when I wanted to be, I wasn't very observant of my surroundings. I had thought he was just being bitter that I had bumped into him, but now I suppose he was right.

Oh, there I go again, thinking about Damian. I think I'm only now starting to fully come to the realization that I have feelings for him. Of course, I can't act on them, Damian obviously seems to feel the complete opposite with his judgemental remarks and slight glares in my direction. Though it will admit, there is something a little off with his inner emotions, like he's struggling to realize something. I try not to pry too much into people's emotions without their permission, but with him, it's sometimes unavoidable. His emotions and thoughts are simply too loud to ignore at times.

But even so, if I could act on my emotions, how would I even do it? I've never felt something like this before, and if I'm being honest, it's a little frightening, because part of me doesn't know how to handle it... which leads me to the question of should I even act on my emotions if that's the case? What if I do and I lose control? Ugh, enough of that now. Just see what Connor wants.

"Can you please explain to me why my phone is gone?" I asked with a cocked brow.

Connor let a small, devious smirk form across his lips as he held said cellular device up and waved it slightly. He leaned his body over the couch, wrapping his arms around me and holding my phone to my face.

"I was just gonna be like 'hey, can I take a picture of you,'" he unlocked my phone to a rather embarrassing photo of me from the day prior. I had fallen asleep reading, my head rested on my palm, mouth slightly ajar as my book seemed to slowly fall from my lap, "But I couldn't wake that cute little face of yours."

I raised an eyebrow once more. "And you couldn't have just taken this photo on your own phone because...?"

"I need a favor and I knew you wouldn't do it unless I blackmailed you." He pulled the phone away and set it in his pocket. "See, I got that picture set to post to social media with just the touch of a button. But if you do me a solid, beautiful, I'll give you both your phone and delete the picture."

Curse Garfield and Jaime for showing him how modern technology works. I couldn't just let this side, I should try to get out of this.

"Or I could just grab my phone from you and delete it myself."

"Ahh, see," he wiggled a finger in my face, "I knew you'd try something like that. Which is why I also have this on my own phone. The same phone that I actually don't have in the Tower at the moment for this particular reason."

I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of his games. "If I do whatever you want will you please just leave me alone?" This earned me a goofy closed smile and a nod. I sighed. "Well, what is it?"

It was then Connor's face changed from its usual playful expression to a serious one. "I've been living with this nice couple, Jon and Martha Kent, for a while now..." he looked down at the ground, seeming a bit embarrassed of what he was about to say, "I wanted to let them know how thankful I was for them letting me in like I was their own son, so, I planned a dinner... and I, um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "I kinda told them you were my date."

I sighed, holding the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Sure, I was shocked, but I also remembered who I was talking to, so it wasn't as large as a surprise.

"Why in the world would you tell them that?" I scolded.

"Because I think it should be true." Connor purred.

I rolled my eyes. "Pass. Post the photo if you'd like, and take my phone." I began to pick up my book and continue to read before a hand took it from me, I sent a glare in Connor's direction.

"Oh, come on, Rae, just pretend to be my date if you have to, please!" He pleaded.

I let out a sigh in defeat, seeing that it was obvious I wasn't going to get out of this any time soon. "Fine."

Connor's usual childish grin returned as he began to happily walk away, returning my book to me. "Great! Be ready by 6, babe!"

I cringed at the name, but I couldn't help but admit this dinner is a very kind and humble gesture to his semi-adoptive parents. I had never thought to see Connor this way, honestly. It was a nice side of him to see.

I grabbed my discarded book and began to resume my place in it when I heard the doors to the main area open again. This time, it was Damian, who had seemingly just finished his usual training session, judging by the sweat on his face and the water bottle in hand.

"Superboy seems to be somehow more unbearable than usual today," Damian commented once he had noticed my presence, "as I was leaving the training area, he had this stupid smile on his face as if he had just won all the wealth in the world."

Damian came and sat next to me as I chuckled slightly, setting my book aside, "Well, that's probably because of this stupid favor I'm forced to make for him."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Favor?" His voice laced slightly with anger. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind the sudden temper, but I decided to ignore it.

"To make a semi-long story short, Connor wanted to have dinner with Jon and Martha Kent as a thank you for their kindness towards him this past year, and..." I let out a long sigh, "and I am his date."

Damian's eyes widened for a moment before returning to normal. I could feel his aura shift from it's usual state to something more mellow and... sad? Surely he wasn't actually upset by this, I must be going insane.

"I see," He said plainly, "I hope you enjoy yourself, then." His response came out slow and calculated, and it didn't match the emotion his inner self was feeling. Maybe he had forgotten I was an empath. Either way, my abilities have often made him out to be a bad liar, even though I rarely call him out on it to save the drama. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he walked away without a second glance, his body tense, and his head lowered.

The evening came and went. Jonathan and Martha Kent were two of the kindest souls I have ever laid eyes on, I couldn't help but smile in their presence. Though, it was strange to pretend to be interested in Connor, especially when the question 'is this your girlfriend' came up. But, I will admit, I enjoyed myself. I never thought I'd see the day I actually enjoy Connor's company as much as I had tonight, but I suppose even the impossible can happen.

We flew home in silence for a moment before Connor began to speak.

"So... that wasn't too bad, right?" He asked shyly.

I smiled. "No, no it wasn't, I really enjoyed myself."

He let out a breath. "Good, good. Remind me when we land I'll give..."

I looked next to me to see Connor was no longer flying beside me. He had stopped to look at the night sky. Dozens of stars danced and winced at the world below. This high above ground, you could see all the colors the stars had to share. Some green, some blue, white, yellow, and so on. It truly made the night sky a beautiful sight.

Connor let out another sigh. "This is just perfect, y'know? Is this Heaven? 'Cause it feels like Heaven."

I giggled playfully. "I suppose with me here it would make it more like Hell."

He let out a laugh. "Oh, so the 'daughter of darkness' does have a sense of humor. I'm shocked."

I rolled my eyes. "And it is a real shame nobody asked for that opinion." This earned us a shared laugh.

"Listen, Rae..." Connor's voice suddenly became serious, "before we actually head back, there's something I need to tell you..."

I turned my body to face him, giving him a worried expression. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing wrong per se, it's just... the real reason I made you come to this dinner was for you to see that I, um... well I actually have a bit of a crush on ya, babe. I-I mean, I know I flirt around and stuff but there's just somethin' about you..."

I huffed a smile, attempting to lighten his nervousness. "Crushing hard I see..."

"You have no idea... it's just weird, you see. 'Cause, and I mean no offense, honestly, but you're not usually my type to go for a serious relationship. Our personalities are obviously a little more than opposite, but that somehow makes my feelings stronger, I guess..."

I let out a laugh, "Trust me, I'm shy and antisocial at first, but I feel as though I do the stupidest things when I'm around someone I'm comfortable with, I just try to contain it as best as possible for... reasons..."

"In any case..." he grabbed my hand, "I just want it to be you and me against the world, babe. So, do you... maybe, wanna grab a coffee sometime? Y'know... have a real date?"

I let out a sigh, releasing his hand and flowing away from him slightly. "I would, but there are other factors in the way. The first one being... well, there's no easy way to say this without hurting your feelings... I have feelings for someone else."

"But let me ask you this beautiful: do you think you have a chance with me?" Connor looked at me with determined eyes.

"Honestly, Connor, with how you've been acting lately... I do see a relationship with you working... sure you can be annoying and flirty but looking past that side of you, you're very caring and sweet." I smiled.

"Well, then my advice to you is this, Rae: if you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

I let out a small groan, putting my head between my hands. "That's the thing, Connor. While I am starting to develop some sort of feelings towards you... I don't necessarily love you. And this person... I definitely love..." I turned to face Connor once more, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression on that regard... but that's not the only factor. The factor of all factors... the reason I can't pursue a relationship with either of you, is who I am. My powers, while can be a blessing and a curse, are too powerful to not be handled with delicately. They are fueled by my emotions... and if I happen to feel too much--"

"Boom..." Connor finished sadly, "Look, I understand, Rae. It's just... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself? Is this something that you want to do? Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

Connor reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone, and deleted the picture before returning it to me.

"Just... think about it, alright?" Connor said, beginning to fly away from me. "I'll meet you back at the tower..."

I watched as his figure disappeared from my eyesight before heading off myself. I felt guilty. I hurt Connor, I know I did, and I couldn't help but feel bad about it. He didn't deserve it... he just wants love, too... though, I couldn't help but wonder if he were right about me having to make the sacrifice for Damian. Though, I decided I shouldn't think about it now, and began focusing on making my way home.

When I had arrived back at the tower, it was late at night. Damian seemed to had just returned from his usual nightly patrol around Jump City. He was still in uniform, mask, and everything. He sat on the couch as if he were waiting on my arrival like an angered parent who just caught their child sneaking back into the house. Though, essentially, that was what I was doing. Still, it didn't explain his angered expression.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked quietly, afraid to wake anyone nearby.

"You and Kent seemed to be rather close this evening. Anything you care to share?" He raised an eyebrow through his mask.

"The better question is why the hell where are you stalking us? Wait, how did you even stalk us? Connor would've heard your heartbeat." I furrowed my eyes at him.

He matched my expression. "I kept my distance for that same reason."

His response only really ticked me off more, but I decided it would be better to keep my cool and answer his question. "No, Damian, I have nothing to share with you."

Silence filled the room for a moment before Damian seemed to finally snap.

"Why the hell would you go through with his nonsense, Raven?!" He yelled, standing from his seat and turning his whole body in my direction.

I remained blank-faced, nonetheless. "It's not like he would leave me alone until I agreed anyway, after all, it's people like him that deserve a high five with a chair... but maybe I just wanted to go with him, since when is that such a crime?"

"It is when you don't even like him!"

"Could you refrain from yelling, people are trying to sleep, you know."

"I'm not yelling, I'm discussing with you!"

"Yeah, with a loud voice. That means your yelling... oh, for the love of--just tell me what your problem is, Damian?" I said, putting a hand on my hip.

He lowered his tone. "Nothing's wrong."

"Obviously there is or else you wouldn't have followed us, and you wouldn't be freaking out the way you are."

He let out a loud groan, grabbing strains of hair between his fingers. He paced the room like this for a moment before dramatically bringing his hands down and yelling, "I really like you!" His eyes widened in what seemed to be shocked at himself and his own words then, "Um... I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

I looked at him with my own sense of shock. "There's no way that's true, Damian." I awkwardly let out a laugh.

Damian sighed and walked up to me, his eyes softened. "No, no, it's true. I've loved you ever since I got to know you, I just hadn't fully realized or accepted it until recently--and even if you don't feel the same, I'm willing to accept that, too. But the truth is, I think about you all the time, and I have these feelings that I still don't quite understand about you, it's freaking annoying, to say the least."

I smirked. "Well, I'd hate to be such an annoyance to you, Damian."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic about it."

I shrugged. "It's recently kind of my thing."

He closed his eyes tight and sighed out a loud 'anyways' before opening his eyes back to their soft state. "I'm obviously not the person you want in your life... but you should know I'll still kill him if he hurts you."

"Yes, you are!" I assured him quickly before he could walk off. "When I was with Connor earlier, I admit, I had a good time, and I got the privilege to see a side of him I never see... but when he admitted his own feelings to me, I turned him down because I simply don't love him, but I do love you."

Damian smiled. It was then I realized how much his aura made sense. He was conflicted over his feelings, and now that he's not? It glows and shines again like nothing ever happened.

He closed his eyes and leaned. I panicked and backed away from him. "Which leads me to the next reason I turned him down... and will more likely be the reason I turn you down: my powers, my abilities... they're uncontrollable if I feel too much. I've been forced to live a life of mellowness all my life, and to suddenly change that now for love? An emotion I still don't quite understand? It's too risky... and I'd never forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you or anyone else with my own emotions."

"Raven," Damain came at me with a soft, reassuring tone, "you tell me you don't understand the feeling, but neither do I. We both need to figure things out for ourselves and who better to do it with than with ourselves. I don't know much about love, or romance, but I do know, from both watching Grayson and my own mother flaunt over my father, that it does demand sacrifices and risks."

It was then I had remembered what Connor told me before he left: "... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself?"

Both, I decided. I don't want either of them to get hurt because of me, but it's my own fears that cause this want to protect them. Fears of what could happen to me, and my team.

"Is this something that you want to do?"

No, absolutely not. I want to love, I want to feel love and to be in love.

"Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

And so I will, Connor. Thank you.

I looked at Damian once more with a small smile creeping on my face. "Alright, Damian. Let's take a risk."

Damian smiled a rare, almost goofy smile. "Well, if that's the case, I should court you formally:" he cleared his throat, "Do you want to--I mean if you're not busy... go get lunch tomorrow? Or even just coffee this morning, if you want, or--"

I placed a hand over his mouth. "There's no need for courting, but your answer is still a yes," I removed my hand, "and I have a feeling we should kiss now."

And, of course, that's exactly what we did. A few household items began to float above their original place, but we didn't care. In the end, it was an ideal night.

_____________________________________

So I know that this was more Conrae than it was Damirae but whateves I really liked writing this one.

Also sorry for the late updates. For some reason, my Wattpad decided it just wasn't gonna let me write for a few days and I felt like it wasn't fair to post on here and not there. Anyways, just got it working again so we'll see how long this lasts I guess.🤷🏻‍♀️

#dcamu #dc #dcfilms #damirae #demonbirds #damian wayne x rachel roth #damian wayne x raven #rachel roth x damian #damian x rachel roth #damian wayne #damian al ghul #robin #rachel roth #raven roth #raven x damian #raven #damian x raven

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taiblogcomics · 4 years

Text

Absolutely Thera-Pissed

Hey there, visas and green cards. It's our ninth blogaversary! Wow, we've been going for quite a long time. Long enough to completely change platforms at least once. Considering we just finished our whole backlog, I think we should try something new in honour of the amazing coincidence of these two events synching up. Before we start on another backlog of terrible comics (trust me, I have something in mind), let's do something we've never done before on this blog. We've only ever really covered comics issue by issue. How would you feel, dear readers, if we instead did an entire storyline all at once?

And oh boy, do I have just the storyline in mind. Here's the cover:

Oh yeah. We're doing this. This story has kind of hung over this blog, mostly due to its connections to Red Hood and the Outlaws. It also prominitely features Harley Quinn, who also appeared in Suicide Squad (which ended before this story took place). And personally, I am a fan of Harley, Booster, and the Titans. And oh boy, does this comic shit all over them, in some of the most truly appalling ways possible. This is Heroes in Crisis. All nine issues. Let's jump right in~

I won’t be going over the covers of the individual issues, or even this one so much, but I do like that quote at the top. It is actually some good superhero artwork! It is an extremely awful story, but the artwork is fine~

So the first issue starts like this: Booster Gold's in one of those tiny middle-American diners. The host's loving it, since she says superheroes never show up and eat here. And oh look, here comes another one! Booster replies that that's no hero, as Harley Quinn walks in. Clearly he hasn't been reading her solo series. Harley orders some pie, and she and Booster eat in terse silence. Until suddenly Harley grabs a knife, and the two begin a real knock-down, drag-out fight. And lemme tell ya something, Harley keeps up with a guy who can fly and project forcefields pretty well. Eventually the pair are exhausted, and Booster says he's gotta bring Harley in, after what he saw her do. Harley protests, because she didn't kill all those people. She saw Booster do it.

All this is intercut with two different scenes. One is sort of a confession-cam style thing, a bunch of heroes (including Harley, Blue Jay, Booster, and Hotspot) all admitting they're here for therapy. And the second is Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman talking with each other as they land in a particular site. This place is called Sanctuary. It is currently full of dead heroes. Among the deceased here are Hotspot, Lagoon Boy, Wally West, and Roy Harper. And this is my first major complaint. Do you know what all these characters have in common? Hey, DC: Stop using the Titans as your cannon fodder. Stop treating them as a joke. Every iteration of the team deserves more respect than this.

So Harley and Booster are going to be our POV characters for this story. I like both of these characters a lot, so this is probably going to be pretty painful seeing them written horribly. Harley goes off to the Penguin for protection, and we actually get to see her in her old costume. It is a breath of fresh air, honestly. Booster, meanwhile, mostly just tries to rationalise his actions with Skeets, his robot buddy. Booster suffered kind of a psychotic break back in the Batman storyline "The Gift", which is why he was in Sanctuary to begin with. This story is basically a follow-up to that one, and has the same sort of tone.

Harley confronts the trinity in Gotham, revealing she set the whole thing up with Penguin just so she could get close to them on her terms. She uses the Lasso of Truth to confess she saw Booster Gold do it, then uses the Kryptonite in Batman's belt to skip town. The next time we see her, she's at the docks, giving a eulogy to Poison Ivy, another victim of Sanctuary. Booster Gold, meanwhile, has rationalised that Batman would solve the crime himself rather than turn himself in, and goes to Barry Allen to check in. Of course, the trinity are the only ones who know about the accident yet, so when Booster tells Barry that Wally's dead, he gets super pissed. Just like the readers are!

Issue 3 is a flashback issue, showing Booster's first day at Sanctuary. Sanctuary works like this: everyone gets their own private quarters, and if they want to visit the common areas, they wear a mask and cloak to preserve anonymity. Here's the first really big problem with Sanctuary: while therapy for superheroes is a good (possibly necessary) concept, Sanctuary is only one kind of therapy. It essentially assumes everyone responds the same to the same sort of therapy. The kind here is that Sanctuary gives you a private room that simulates your traumas (with a holodeck) and has you physically confront them. Lagoon Boy, for example, is shown to be facing the laser that killed him over and over again. Wally sets up superhero battles that still have his kids with him. And while this sort of therapy might help some people, it's definitely not universal.

Booster starts his first session, which ends up just being a hologram of himself, talking to him. Before he can get much further, though, alarms go off and everyone is urged to emergency evacuate. Lagoon Boy is killed--in a deliberate callback to his previous death, no less--and we see a few other victims, including Red Devil, Commander Steel, and Gunfire. Wally clutches Roy's body as he dies in his arms, and Harley smacks Wally in the face with her hammer. She greets Booster cheerfully, and he admits he's having a hell of a first day.

After a brief scene of Aqualad (Garth, in this case) drinking in a bar--and who can blame him for wanting to drink after experiencing this story?--Batman and Barry meet, thus showing they're still unsure who did it. Booster is being interrogated under the Lasso of Truth, and he relays the previous issue to us. In his mind, Harley did it. Harley, meanwhile, has tracked down Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) and surprisingly... they hug. Babs promises to help stick by Harley and prove her innocence. After all, Babs has been through trauma, too. The comic reminds us of this with another confession-cam video, showing Babs display the scars she received from “The Killing Joke".

So, about these confession cams... They've been interspersed between scenes, showing everyone from Batman down to guys like Gunfire or the Protector relaying their problems by confession. Again, this sort of therapy isn't for everyone, but it's the only one Sanctuary's got. Superman tells Batman that Lois has been receiving these videos anonymously. Batman responds that there are no videos. Sanctuary does not keep records, to preserve patient confidentiality. Supes replies that there are videos, he's seen them, and now the media has them. The issue ends with a breaking story about "What is the secret superhero Sanctuary?" exposé airing on television...

Speaking of breaking, Blue Beetle (Ted Kord, who I'm as surprised as anybody to find out is alive again post-Rebirth) breaks Booster out of the Hall of Justice where he's being held. The pair watch the breaking news report on television while they try to come up with a plan. Booster's idea is to confess to Barry again, figuring they won't expect the stupidest possible move, making it actually the smartest possible move. Booster has not really recovered from his insanity, I see. He and Beetle do exactly that, surprising Barry at work, which is apparently all the advantage they need. This is because Barry, as a forensic scientist, has access to the data on the autopsies.

While Superman makes a public statement to the press regarding Sanctuary, Batman passes Skeets into Batgirl's care, and she immediately violates that trust by in turn passing Skeets to Harley. It's implied Harley tortures the information regarding Booster's whereabouts out of Skeets, but it's okay because he's just a robot. Babs and Harley turn up at Booster's place as he's analysing the data he obtained from Barry. Here's where it all starts to fall into place: the data on Wally West says his body is five days older than the rest of them.

Issue 6 is kind of a triple piece, but one that can be summed up fairly quickly. It focuses on three specific characters who were all at Sanctuary. The parts regarding Gnaark the caveman (another Titans alumnus) are ultimately pointless, since the issue ends with his death. The parts with Harley focus on Joker's abuse of her and Posion Ivy's care towards her. This also ends badly. Wally's parts focus on the DC Rebirth story where he essentially willed himself back into the universe. And while that story is really good and it was a joy to see Wally again, it ultimately ended with the knowledge that Wally's family did not reappear with him. His kids are gone, his wife is with someone else and does not remember him, and until he forced his way back into everyone's memories, no one else recalled him either. This would traumatise anybody. But it may have really traumatised Wally.

The next issue starts really well, honestly. Booster and Harley are fighting it out--again--while Babs and Beetle just watch. Like, they aren't even stressed, they're both familiar with their respective charges, and this is really no surprise. In any other comic, this would be a great scene. Shame that it's in this one, and it's not nearly enough to save even a lick of it. Eventually Babs works out that Booster's forcefields are only currently working because of some jury-rigged tech that's powered by Blue Beetle's consciousness. So she knocks him out with one hit. Harley prepares a killing blow, but ultimately cannot go through with it, proving she's a good person. She and Booster just collapse on the floor, and bond over the fact that they both kind of suck as superheroes (from their own perspectives, at least).

With Booster, Beetle, Babs, and Harley (Barley?) all on the same side now, the group decide to get to the bottom of everything together. Meanwhile, the rose Harley dropped off the docks is picked up by Wally. See, while the body they found of Wally is five days older than the rest, this means he time-traveled and is still at present alive. Wally channels his Speed Force into the rose, causing it to grow rapidly--and Poison Ivy blooms from it, restored to life. I don't get it either, but if it means Ivy didn't die in this stupid story, I'll take it. Wally then apologises, since Ivy just returned to life and now she has to see death so soon. Those five days are up, and a second Wally appears, ready to literally kill himself.

So here's what really fucking happened.

Wally had been at Sanctuary three weeks already. He's frustrated because the therapy's not helping as fast as he thought it would. He does a jump into the Speed Force and basically exists everywhere at once. Spread across the time stream, he witnesses everybody's confession cams all at once. He sees "the trauma of a thousand heroes in crisis" (hey, we have a title, ladies and gentlemen). And... it's too much. Realising everybody's personal pain breaks him. He unleashes the burst of pent-up energy he'd stored to do the time jaunt thing and kills everyone at Sanctuary.

Lagoon Boy. Protector. Hotspot. Red Devil. Arsenal. Gnaark. Solstice. Tattooed Man. Gunfire. Blue Jay. Commander Steel. Nemesis. I want you to remember these names. These were all pre-existing characters. Half of them were members of the Titans at one point or another. Wally West, the Flash, killed them in a stupid, stupid storyline that not only assassinates his character, but also literally assassinates all these other characters.

Wally uses his super speed to set up the bodies, rig the crime scenes so it looks like Harley or Booster could be responsible for their deaths. He then travels forward in time to the present moment, where he has just confessed all this to Poison Ivy. He kills that version of himself and travels back in time with it to fake his own death. He then uses the VR tech of Sanctuary to trick Booster and Harley into believing they saw the other commit the deeds. Neither of them even knew they'd never left their respective therapy simulations. This leaves Wally with a five day window to figure out something good he can do to make up for killing everyone.

So the final issue wraps it up like this: Booster time-travels the group back to where Barry is about to kill his own paradox clone. Harley and Ivy reunite, which is nice. So here's the plan: this doesn't have to end with any more death. In the end, what Barry did was all an accident. So Booster travels into the future to make a clone of the paradox-Wally. This gives them a five-day-old body they can leave at the massacre, in order to close the timeloop. The present Wally turns himself in and is arrested, while the five-days-ago paradox Wally merges back into the Speed Force, still running to try and find his family.

And the "good" thing Wally did to make up for killing everyone? He was the one that leaked Sanctuary's existence to the media. In his mind, the idea that heroes are seen as constant paragons was too much pressure. By letting the public know that even superheroes need therapy, even superheroes suffer trauma just like everyone else, he he could let people know that heroes are just that: people. People like everyone else. And that it is okay for anyone to seek help if you need it. This seems like a nice sentiment, until you remember the reason Wally killed everyone is because he was impatient about how his therapy was going. What an awful story.

-----

Like, legitimately, this story is just awful. The basic premise--that heroes could probably do with therapy--is not a bad one. The execution is just really completely mismanaged, though. Start with the beginning. Why are Harley Quinn and Booster Gold chosen as the focus characters? Because they're the ones you could believe would orchestrate a mass murder, right? Except no. You would never believe that. Booster is not that much of a screw-up, and Harley is not that much of a villain. Neither of them have been those things for many years. The readers know that, but it feels like the writer didn't.

And that's the worst part of it all. The superficiality of the story. In the end, why was this story written? To explore the concept of therapy for superheroes? Well, then, it went about it in the worst way possible. Not everyone experiences trauma in the same way. And therefore, not everyone responds to therapy in the same way. The way therapy is depicted in this story is just wrong. Frankly, Sanctuary looks like one of the worst places to get treatment, right alongside Arkham Asylum. Do you think anybody's really going to take away from this story "It's okay to talk about your traumas if you need to"? In or out of universe?

I didn't really talk about the confession cams, but they seemed highly unnecessary. They were always the same, a 3x3 of panels featuring a superhero talking about their traumas. Most of them didn't factor into the story, and at most they felt like a common scene transition. They tried to give them some weight by revealing that the contents of all these possibly got leaked? But then they just kinda dropped that subplot. Which was really kind of serious, because the traumas range from the Protector (a character created for drug PSAs) confessing that he has done drugs to Superman talking about the burden of keeping his identity secret. How much of these did the public actually get? And if it was none, what was even the point of it being a subplot~? Like, leak that Sanctuary existed, sure, but why did Lois Lane get sent all the videos that shouldn't have existed~?

What this story has done to Wally is awful. They have completely tarnished this likeable, amazing hero by having him kill twelve people (thirteen, if you include Poison Ivy), several of them colleagues and friends. All because he's trying to fake his way through therapy when it isn't helping him as fast as he wants. Know what would have been a good story? How about he learns to cope with his trauma? How about he actually gets his family back? It's unrealistic as hell, but it's a fictional story. It's escapism. It's okay to have a happy ending. I ''want'' my stories to end in happy endings, because it's so hard to get them in real life. I want something better than this.

DC Rebirth was a breath of fresh air. Wally's return to the DC universe felt like the clouds were lifitng. The stories following Rebirth felt like a return to form after the darkening of the New 52. It felt like the stories were getting good again, like the comics were getting fun and hopeful again. It couldn't last, though, could it? This story is only three years after the Rebirth initiative. Three years? That's all the hope we get in the universe? I sincerely hope this story ends up an abberation, and not a return to form of the darker, more dour universe we put up with in the New 52. Especially given current events, you can understand why a brighter, optimistic fictional world is appealing. I sincerely hope that when comics resume publication after the pandemic, a more positive outlook continues, and stories like this are left in the garbage where they belong.

This book is fucking awful, and I am done with it. Next week, we'll start reviewing an all-new series for the Taiblog. Let's just say I'm not done ranting about injustices against the Teen Titans~

#comics #reviews #Heroes in Crisis #Taiblog

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another-sonic-blog · 5 years

Text

Stages: Shadow’s Day

Stages: Intimate Friends Pt.3: Shadow’s Day (Chapter 16)

3K2

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190748251455/stages-secret-dance

"Your report on Amy Rose?"

"I'll have it done by this week."

The Commander nodded in approval as he pulled out a black file from his desk's cabinet.

"There have been some last minutes changes to the Star Festival mission."

Shadow sighed, annoyed but still rolled with it. "Now what is it?"

And that's how Shadow ended up with Omega and a new agent called Mia. Rouge, being the smartass that she is, decided to ask for a week off just before the Star Festival.

The Star Festival was an annual festival to celebrate the union between the United Republic and the Acorn Kingdom. The mission was simple, keep an eye on the president and the royals.

He was fine with the president, but taking care of the royal family could be a real hassle.

"If you don't pick up the pace, we will leave you." Shadow looked back at the girl who was walking behind him.

"Yes, Mr. Shadow!" The girl ran in order to keep up. Shadow noticed that she was still keeping her distance, acting shyly.

"Don't call me 'Mr. Shadow." He asked.

"Yes, Mr. Shadow!"

Shadow growled lowly, a bit annoyed. Since Rouge wasn't with them, someone needed to fill in her spot. Therefore, the Commander assigned a temporary member, Mia. She had just graduated from G.U.N's academy at the top of her class. Shadow remembered her name from the lover letter he received a few days ago. Hence her shyness towards him.

"Shadow, I have spotted Princess Sally."

Shadow looked towards the Mobian Omega was pointing with his metallic hand. Indeed, Princess Sally was already on top of her parade cart. An enormous parade cart just like her kingdom. It was beautifully decorated with tulip flowers, which was the kingdom's official flower.

"Good, the parade is about to start. Omega, you lookout for the right. I'll keep a look on the left." Shadow directed his attention to Mia and it took only one look to make her skin shiver. "You look out for the back."

Shadow was actually starting to worry about her. She was becoming too red. The brown-furred female hedgehog nodded, almost making her round glasses fall from her round nose. She pushed them back and bowed quickly at Omega and Shadow, making her two braided tails move back and forth by the moment.

Mia walked all the way back to the parade cart. Omega and Shadow shared a look.

"She likes you," Omega said.

Shadow simply responded, "I know."

With that, they parted ways. The parade cart was so big that Shadow wasn't able to look at his teammates.

He heard the trumps play and the parade began.

It was the usual thing, they were going to walk slowly for a kilometer. Princess Sally, on top of her cart waving to the people of the United Republic. The President was on his black limousine and followed at the very end of the parade line.

Shadow kept looking to his left, giving looks to the girls who waved at him and were screaming for him.

He kept looking at them but in the hopes that Amy was there as well.

Suddenly, he felt the need to look good. He straightened his back and walked with a strong posture, gaining the many sighs of girls in love. However, he wasn't thinking about them. He wanted to look good just in case Amy was looking at him.

He had moved out of the Resistance simply because he didn't want to bother Amy any longer. Shadow would see her less and less now. He missed her but if he was honest ...

He was avoiding her.

Shadow knew he was getting too close to her and although he didn't mind at the beginning ... He was starting to get scared.

The night he danced with Amy was everything to him and he wished he could do it more often but ... what if one day ... she leaves him too?

He knew it was selfish of him but the thought still haunted his mind.

It wasn't only that, but G.U.N. also had its eyes on Amy. It was better to keep his distance for now until that issue is done.

Ever since the Commander told him the news about what happened in Twinkle Star Village in regards to Amy Rose, he just plainly avoided her.

He believed in her, but he just needed more proof.

However, he still felt bad. He came up with the stupidest excuse not to see her. That he wasn't available, too busy, ignore her texts and even ignore her in public.

She did it for two weeks. For the third week, she stopped trying.

A small pain in his chest became apparent the moment he remembered her face.

The people passing by in the streets. A disappointed face as she slowly stopped waving at him.

He turned around and walked away.

He really wished he could see her. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

It was a beautiful day, a blue sky. Children were laughing and waved at people participating in the parade. Shadow wasn't too fond of loud music but seeing most people enjoyed it. Vibrant colors and Shadow looked over at the Princess's parade cart. The tulips were different colors, soft pinks, yellows, and blues. The smell coming off them unique, Shadow had never smelled something like that before. Maybe a smell compared to it could be Amy's natural scent.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

People began to scream and run around. Chaos overtook the parade. Shadow looked around, trying to spot where the shots were coming from.

Then he remembered the mission at hand.

He went to the back of Princess Sally's parade cart. He found Mia, looking lost. Nothing new.

"Agent Mia! Look over the Princess! I will check on the President and Omega will keep an eye on the other royals!" Shadow said as he prepared to run to get to the President.

"But-" she tried to say something but Shadow with his powerful eyes, made her stay quiet.

"No, buts! Do your job!"

Shadow arrived at the President's limousine were more than 20 G.U.N. agents were already protecting it.

"Agent Shadow, asking for a report."

The leader agent of the group broke his position in the circle and walked towards Shadow.

"Intelligence Department hasn't been able to locate the Mobian who started the shooting."

"The President?"

"He is alright."

"Agent Shadow, here agent Mia. There's an issue."

Shadow walked away as he paid attention to his wrist communicator.

"Whatever it is, fix it yourself," said Shadow. "I am going to go help civilians now."

Shadow turned off his communicator. He began to run again. This time, he kept looking left and right, trying to get any clues he could.

But nothing.

He helped civilians evacuate and children find their mothers.

Three bombs detonated and buildings were falling apart. Shadow was quick to run to the falling buildings and helped whoever needed it.

He picked up a large number of boulders, helping the people who were under them. A cafe, an apartment, and a clothing shop.

"Agent Shadow, this is Agent Omega reporting."

Shadow kept running through the streets just to see if there was anyone else who needed help.

"Shadow here." He responded.

"Mia Reported: Princess Sally was kidnapped."

"I hope we don't make it," said Shadow.

"Don't say that, please."

"Believe me, being dead will be better than the punishment we are going to get once we get back to headquarters."

Shadow and Mia were currently in the underground drainage tunnel of the city. They were following Princess Sally's GPS locator which was hidden in her wrist rings.

This could be two things. A trap for them or the one behind all of this was stupid.

Shadow perfectly knew that this was more likely a trap. This person was smart if they were able to trick G.U.N.'s Intelligence department.

"I think anything is better than this place," said Mia.

Shadow came to a sudden stop and he gave the girl an annoying look. "Rookies."

They kept walking. Oh, how he wished he could be with Amy right now. Talking about anything or just hanging out.

His mind wanders off again. He remembers the dance with Amy. Her tiny body in his arms, her intoxicating smell, and her green emerald eyes on him.

And all of a sudden, all of that was gone.

Shadow looked over to the girl. Mia was falling behind again. She walked slowly as she played with her fingers in a front and back motion. She had freckles in her face and even with them, Shadow could tell that she was blushing. Her pale complexion made the pink tint on her cheeks stand out and if Shadow didn't know better, she looked extremely anxious.

"Look, if we want this mission to be successful, I need you at your best," Shadow said he took a moment to fully turn to look at the girl. He knew that right now it wasn't the best moment to talk about the love letter but the girl was acting like a high school girl with a crush. He just couldn't have that in such an important mission. "I read your letter and I accept your feelings."

Shadow saw Mia's eyes light up and he decided to make it clear.

"But that doesn't mean I return them."

Shadow wasn't good at these kinds of things. He wasn't even one to read the letters but at the moment his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Especially because it was the first one he had seen with a name on it.

Now here he was, in a dark drainage tunnel with a brown hedgehog girl, saving a princess and denying the feelings of love.

The girl didn't look anxious anymore, she had stopped playing with her fingers and she looked relaxed even but her face became sadder as she finally dared to look at his face.

"I apologize," Shadow said, hoping that the girl didn't start to cry. "I am just not into dating right now."

Mia took a few moments to respond. "Is it because of the pink girl?"

"Pink ... girl?"

"Yes," Mia doubted for a bit but seeing that Shadow looked calm, she continued. "Everyone at G.U.N says you like her."

Shadow knew only one pink girl and that was Amy, he sighed. Could G.U.N's agents damn their own business?

"We are friends. That's it."

"I don't blame you if you do. I mean she is so pretty. A pink hedgehog! So unique! Not to mention that she was Captain of the Resistance." Mia took a pause.

She thought she was nothing compared to Amy. Mia didn't even know where she got the courage to write her name on that love letter for Shadow. She was just accepted as a G.U.N. agent a few weeks ago and had no ranking. She was very average and compare to the pink one or to anyone she was no one.

Or so she thought.

"You must think ... why is even someone like her confessing to me? She is so ugly and useless and-"

"I didn't say that. I said I accept your feelings. Isn't that enough for you?"

The girl felt a bit intimidated by Shadow's confident response, but once again she admired that about him.

She felt Shadow getting closer and Mia asked, "What do you mean?"

"It means that you can keep showing me your feelings. I don't mind," said Shadow.

"Wait ..." Mia added, "That means I can send you love letters and keep trying to make you ... fall in love with me?"

"Yes. Honestly, I don't want anything right now but if doing that makes you happy, then feel free to do it."

Shadow focused on the girl once again. Her face lightens up and she gives him a warm smile. Mia was content and Shadow was relaxed because finally, they could continue with their mission with that thought interrupting them.

"Now, " Shadow added, "Let's do this mission-"

"Ok, but why? Asked Mia.

"What?"

"Why are you letting me do this? I thought you weren't the type to like those things."

Shadow gave it a thought. He knew the truth but he just didn't want to admit it nor say it. At the back of his mind, he could see it. Mia slightly reminds him of Amy. Well, the old Amy who would chase after Sonic every day.

Even when they weren't friends back then, he hated seeing Amy cry for the blue one when Sonic would run away or deny her love.

Shadow just didn't want to be anything that causes or caused Amy's pain.

He just didn't want to be like the blue faker. Shadow wanted to be clear but also gentle towards the brown-fur girl.

"Honestly," said Shadow, "I don't even know myself."

It was very dark now and the two could hear the drip-drop of water droplets dripping from above.

Shadow tried really hard not to breathe. Mostly because his nose was very sensitive but a mission was a mission.

Finally, they found the place. Shadow's wrist communicator had many functions and one of them was serving as a locator. He looked at the small screen of the communicator where it showed a green and red dot. The green one was the princess and he was the red one.

She was above them.

Too easy.

Shadow looked around and nearby was a metallic door.

Alright, this definitely was a trap. No guards? No percussion? No fight?

"Alright, change of plans," Shadow said as he turned to look at Mia. "I am going alone. You go back to the surface and be prepared to call for back up in case I need it."

"But, this was my fault. If I had taken better care of the Princess, this wouldn't have happened."

"No, look, this is different ... All of this is strange. It's better if I go by myself."

"But-"

"That's an order. Go back, now."

Shadow raised his voice and the girl was shaken a little by his change of attitude. She nodded, turned around and ran away.

Shadow made sure she was out of his sight to focus back on the metallic door.

He walked towards it, a green light above it. Shadow closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Inhale and exhale.

BOOM!

Shadow kicked open the door. The door flew across the room and landed next to Princess Sally's cell.

"About damn time." Princess Sally said.

It was a security room, TV's covered the room except for Sally's cell.

"You have such a nice vocabulary princess. I'll take you out in a moment," Shadow said as he approached her cell. It was made out of iron, easy to break for him.

"But first," Shadow placed his face in front of the bars, looking at the tired-looking princess. "Did you see anyone?"

"Everyone was wearing masks."

"Of course." Shadow was fast to bend the cell's bars, creating a big opening for Sally to come out. "How many of them?"

"I don't know, no one was here when I woke up." Sally came out of the cell and added, "But, it was around three when they kidnaped me at my parade cart."

"Three uh?"

"Voice fully recognized: Start-Process Now."

Shadow and Sally looked around the room as the TV screens began to show a particular image. Some TV's had a count down of 3:00 minutes.

And the others ...

Shadow knew perfectly what was going on.

"Princess, get out of here now! Exit the room and keep going straight, don't turn back!"

Sally doubted for a second but trusted Shadow's abilities and judgment. It was a bit hard to run with her dress but she managed.

Shadow, on the other hand, was looking like crazy for the bomb. He didn't know if it was a bomb or a detonator.

Or something else.

He looked everywhere. In Sally's cell, on the walls, and he even broke some TVs he thought had a bomb inside.

"Where can it be?"

His thoughts were interrupted as he paid attention to the images that were presented on the TV. Usually, Shadow will be really calm.

But the tape on the TV made him shiver on the inside.

"I'll do you a favor. Carry me back to Tails and after this mission is done, you will never have to see me again. I promise."

"Deal."

It was a videotape of him and Amy on the day that they were at the cliff in Twinkle Star village. Right after they got the flowers that saved Tails' life.

Someone was watching them, all along.

Without noticing, Shadow had one minute left.

He began to think of the worst. Was Amy ok? Where was she? What was she doing?

What was going on?

30 seconds left.

"Mr. Shadow! Are you here?"

It was Mia. Damn it, Shadow had no time now.

15 seconds left.

Shadow picked up Mia and carried her in his shoulder. He ran as fast as he could. The tunnel was dark but Shadow had a good vision. He exited the tunnel with Mia in his shoulders. Other G.U.N. agents were already on the outside. Trucks, guns, G.U.N agents from side to side. Shadow looked to his side and he found Princess Sally being protected by her royal guards.

Shadow was quick to throw Mia on the ground. An angry look on his face. Mia, as she stood up was quick to ask.

"Are you ... angry at me?"

Shadow didn't want to pay attention. If there was a bomb, it should have detonated by now.

But nothing happened.

"Please ... tell me! I know I went against your order but-"

"Who is this person? No, detonations ... nothing. That video of me and Amy ... is she in danger? Did something happen to her? I will never forgive myself if-"

"Please, Shadow talk to me!" Mia then was fast to grab Shadow by his arm.

Shadow turned around as her touch triggered something on him.

"Didn't I tell you to stay?" Shadow began to raise his voice, "Didn't I fucking tell you to stay?!"

All eyes were on them now. Shadow wasn't thinking clearly. He didn't understand anything. He didn't know what was going on and the things he thought he could control turns out he couldn't.

The air became heavy and a few seconds passed, the agents went back to their work.

Mia was still holding back the tears. She was afraid that the small chance she had with Shadow was gone. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him, but it seemed like she had done so already.

Mia stood quiet and she whispered, "I am sorry ... I was just worried about you-"

"An 'I am sorry' won't cut it! What if there was a bomb? I could have made it but you?" Shadow added, "You could have died! Do you think I can live without you, Amy?!"

Shadow was still way more than worried. His mind could only envision Amy. He wanted to leave and check on her, just to make sure she was fine. Even so, he couldn't.

Because as far as he knew, Amy was G.U.N's number one suspect at the moment.

Shadow still blinded with his feelings, looked at Mia in the eyes and said,

"Because I can't"

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Soon we will be seeing Amy's day. Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Also I recommend, reading me on wattpad. I publish there more often and there are stories there I don’t publish here: https://www.wattpad.com/user/H19990103

Next: Soon

#shadamy #shadamy au #shadamy fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #shadow and amy #shadowxamy #shadow x amy #Amy Rose #amyrose #amy #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #sonic fanfic

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ladyhistorypod · 4 years

Text

Episode 12: The Lady History Library

Sources:

Zora Neale Hurston

National Women’s History Museum

Zora Neale Hurston Digital Archive, Chronology

Zora Neale Hurston: A Biography of the Spirit

Further Reading & Listening: The Dead Ladies Show (podcast), Wrapped in Rainbows: the Life of Zora Neale Hurston (audio book), The death and rebirth of Zora Neale Hurston (article/podcast),

Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou’s Website

Time

Biography

National Women’s History Museum

The Harlem Writers Guild

Poetry Foundation

Mary Shelley

Literary Hub

History Channel

Encyclopedia

Biography

Poetry Foundation

British Library: Mary Shelley

British Library: Mary Shelley, Frankenstein and the Villa Diodati

University of Central Missouri

Somerset Live

Attributions: image of Maya Angelou, Book Page, Maya Angelou at Hillside Courtesy; William J. Clinton Presidential Library

Click below for a transcript of this episode!

Archival Audio: Our story is about a library. Although this library is a new one, it is not much different from most. And the people you will see might be your own neighbors.

Alana: You guys we did it. (Laughing)

Lexi: Yes!

Haley: Guys, I was in the car going to my in-laws or like what my mom calls my in-laws because I don't know what to do– like what do you call your boyfriend's parents when you live with your boyfriend?

Lexi: Your boyfriend's parents.

Alana: Hey Riddle Riddle has a word for this. SOPAS. Significant other’s parents.

Lexi: Oh yeah!

Haley: I like that.

Lexi: That's good.

Alana: Your SOPAS.

Haley: We’re not, like, married but then I don't know like I feel like saying oh my boyfriend’s parents. And we heard it like on the radio and all the tweets just came rushing in and we were getting gas and I did like a little dance in the car.

Lexi: Awww.

Haley: And when we were driving up I kept clapping and saying thank you out the window to all the Biden/Harris signs and then hissing at all the Trump/Pence and I think I heard me. But like, come on.

Lexi: I was walking on the beach, and people were driving by with American flags honking and every time someone honked everyone would cheer. And then this guy came by in a Biden/Harris tee that he'd cut the sleeves off of so it was very like 1980s muscle tank and he had a little horn on his bike and he was talking and he was going “woo! Woo!”

Alana: That is so Biden.

Lexi: And then there was one guy who gave him the middle finger and everyone who was like around the area of the beach, like it's Covid so people like weren't like close together but people were like around each other and everyone just looked at that guy like. You’re the asshole.

Alana: There was like just tons of honking and it was a lot of fun. And then I was trying to take my Shabbat nap and there was still honking.

Haley: What I want to know like immediately, and I say that sarcastically because we have a lot of other fish to fry, is where his like presidential library is going to be. Because that's like law. In the fifties Congress passed a law that every US president has to have their library. My guess is that Trump’s is going to be in like Florida. Like right next to–

Lexi: You don’t think New York City?

Haley: No. I’m being fully serious when I say it's Florida because I don't think New York.

Lexi: Mar a Largo Presidential Library?

Alana: Yeah probably.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. Today I'm joined in the Lady History library by Lexi. Lexi, what's the best grade you've gotten on a paper about a book you didn't read?

Lexi: Well I have to tell you something, Alana. I have never not read a book for school. I am a kiss ass. I'm a loser. I never had–

Alana: Haley is doing the big L

Lexi: L. on her forehead. I know. I was called all sorts of names. Brownnoser, ass-kisser… My number one teacher relationship was with the AP literature teacher. I read every word of Light in August. I read every word of One Hundred Years of Solitude. So, sorry to disappoint you but–

Alana: You’re blowing my mind right now.

Lexi: I read all of Crime and Punishment word for word.

Alana: Our other librarian is Haley. Haley, what do you think is the most overrated book in the straight white male literary canon?

Haley: Anything from Shakespeare.

Alana: I love you so much Haley. I also don't like Shakespeare.

Lexi: There's a theory that he might be three women pretending to be a man.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I believe everyone has two favorite books; their intellectual favorite and their actual favorite.

Lexi: One hundred percent true.

Alana: So this is my post intro banter; what is your intellectual favorite and what is your actual favorite. Intellectual favorite is like your favorite that you had to read for school, and then like your real favorite.

Haley: That's assuming I like, read books in high school. Okay, let me–

Lexi: I’m the opposite.

Haley: Like, let me– okay, I'm like on the spectrum of dyslexia. My mom may come after me, she doesn’t listen to the podcast, it's fine, she's in denial about it. But I have a really hard time doing pronunciation in my head and pronouncing words. It just, it happened. I didn't really start reading until the second grade. So going into high school, I had to do the standardized testing. I got a one on the English and then like a four on the science? Because those were like the two that worked. And they thought I was like the stupidest person in the world. Like they couldn't like. Brain fathom that I didn't think the same way for reading grammar and like reading books because they were like “did you– what happened? You got a four on science.” And I just, I did not read like it was never– and I read books on the side. My mom would like see me reading like Harry Potter, Hunger Games, all the YA books of the time and not reading school books. And it was just like out of disdain. But I think if I had to pick out of like the five I actually read was One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest because I knew I would watch the movie with Jack Nicholson and I actually like the book. And then fun book, I don't have a favorite fun book, I just have a genre. Like that cheesy romance novels.

Alana: Oh yeah.

Haley: Not the ones about sex, but just like the girl finding the guy… the single mom like figuring life out. Anything from like Jennifer Hyde, Jasmine Guillory, those books are my jam because I know that like I'm so distant from them. Just like in retrospect and I don't have those type of human emotions. I’m like “oh. That’s– that is a fantasy.” That is my fantasy type thing. Like I think I can like see a pig fly or just like Harry Potter's wand come shooting at my brain cells, but like girl falling in love because she met a guy at the bookstore? That sounds fake.

Alana: I want to point out. Haley is the only one of us who’s in a romantic relationship right now.

Lexi: I think that says something about if you have too high expectations… you’re gonna be single. (Laughing)

Haley: Remember, I thought like my longtime boyfriend was gay and in a relationship the man he was sitting on the couch with.

Lexi: So, okay. My favorite intellectual book is probably One Hundred Years of Solitude, and people always like “why the hell do you like that book… like incest… like what's wrong with you?” I just think it’s really well written. Like, I think it's very visual in how it describes things and it's like full of like visual metaphor and now I sound like an asshole the way I’m talking. Like I love books.

Haley: No, I am so happy you said that because I tried reading that book. That was never recommended in school, but after finishing school and like learning to love to read through like summer vacation and then also college, I found one of those buzzfeed list of like a hundred books you had to read in school and I've been trying to like pick them off. And I've tried to read that book like two to three times and I can't get past page 70, and I don't know if that's just me or that's like the book. But it's probably me. But now that you’ve said this I'm gonna start it again.

Lexi: I think it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy it, but it's a very good book. And then my fun book– that's hard because I love lots of fun books. Like I want to say The Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty but that's not really fun, that's actually quite intellectual. Oh, now I sound like more of an asshole! I can’t not sound like an asshole this episode.

Alana: Today on Lady History: Lexi’s an asshole.

Lexi: I'm a literary snob. But no, this– this’ll redeem me. My all time favorite book like of all time is called the Perkin Papers, and quite frankly I don't know if it even still exists, like I don't think you can buy a new copy of it because the copy I have is from the 1930s and I found it at an auction in a box when I was five. But it's gotten me through some rough times.

Haley: That is the most Lexi way of finding a motherfucking book if I’ve ever heard one.

Lexi: I go to a lot of weird places to find books. So my favorite smart person book, or my favorite high school book is Frankenstein which oh my god sneak peek foreshadowing. And then my favorite actual, my actual favorite fun book is either Good Omens which I read before I knew the show was coming out by the way. I am not a bandwagoner. Not that there's anything wrong with being a bandwagoner but I am not a bandwagoner. Or an Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green and the sequel, A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor. But I think that Hank Green's books are beautiful depictions and explorations of humanity and social media.

LEXI’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: This little song is a story. The young lady thinks that it's time for them to get married, in fact if she thinks they just have to, and the boy doesn’t want to marry. And so this song’s about it. (Singing) Tilly, lend me your pigeon. He caught me with mine. My pigeon’s gone wild in the bush. My pigeon’s gone wild. My pigeon’s gone wild in the bush. My pigeon’s gone wild.

Lexi: I have two things in common with Zora Neale Hurston, any guesses on what those two things are?

Alana: You love the bison at the zoo.

Haley: You both have owned birds.

Lexi: I don't think either of those are true of Zora Neale Hurston. But, those two things it is is that she was a trained anthropologist and she went to a college in Washington DC.

Alana: Okay my guess was that you both lived in DC for– my actual guess was that you both lived in DC for a while, and I know that sounds like “eheheh that’s what I was going to say” but that is, like, what I was going to say.

Lexi: No I believe that you would have guessed that because I think it's like… People reference her around DC because she spent some time there. Although she didn’t spend that long there. Anyway and then the funny thing is you both also kinda had that come with her so. Haha.

Alana: That's true.

Lexi: We all have those two things in common with Zora Neale Hurston. Now I will begin. So, let's jump into her story… book, get it? She's an author and also Haley says that a lot of times so it’s not that unique that I said that. Zora was born on January 15, 1891 in Notasulga? I might be saying that wrong. Notasulga, Alabama. And like many other young Black women in her era, both her parents had been enslaved. And when she was very young her family moved to Florida and settled in Eatonville, which is one of the first towns in the United States to be incorporated by African-Americans, so she grew up in an area with a lot of African-American leaders.

Speaker 2: There, her father became mayor and pastor at the local church and her mother Lucy Potts Hurston died in 1904 and her father remarried. Zora and her stepmother did not get along, and so the young girl went to live with other family members, spending a lot of time with her brother in her brother's homes. In 1914, she moved to Memphis and began working as a nanny for one of her brother’s children. And she then became a maid and moved to Baltimore. In Baltimore, she eventually became a waitress and decided to go back to school, studying at night. And on September 17, 1917, Zora at the age of 26 enrolled at the Morgan Academy. She graduated with a high school degree a year later and moved to Washington DC where she began working as a manicurist and continued to work as a waitress. That fall she entered Howard University and in two years she earned an associate's degree. Zora co-founded The Hilltop, which is still Howard's student newspaper to this day. She then moved to New York City. Zora, through a scholarship she earned, attended Barnard College. There, she declared herself an English major, but was also passionate about anthropology, studying under the famed “founding father” anthropologist Franz Boas. Also while in New York, she befriended notable Harlem icons such as Langston Hughes and Countee Cullen. She became a part of the Black cultural movement, joining many other Black writers living and working in Harlem. At the end of her college career, Professor Boas encouraged her to collect Black folklife in the south. This experience shaped future work. As both an anthropologist and author, Zora dedicated her life to the preservation and promotion of Black cultural studies. She did not only study Black culture and African diaspora in the United States of America, but also visited the islands of Haiti, the Bahamas, and Jamaica; studying religion and reporting her findings in US newspapers. In addition to producing ethnographic work for her research, she also used her studies of Black culture, religion, and folklife to inspire her fiction writing. She also collaborated with Langston Hughes on her writing. Her most famous work, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is notable for breaking barriers as one of the first fiction novels to explore the experience of a Black woman in America. Today, the novel is used as an educational tool in high school literature classes and college anthropology and American studies courses. If you have not read it, do yourself a favor; go pick up a copy from your local bookstore or library. It was the book that inspired me to pick Zora for this episode and it's one of the works that inspired me to study anthropology in college because when I read it as a junior in high school I was like this is really interesting I need to know more about this lady and how she got all this information to make the story. And I found out how she did ethnographic work and I was like “that's a job?” So anyway, that’s really cool. Zora wore many hats, and anthropology and literature were not her only passions. She also taught drama at the North Carolina College for Negroes, which is now the North Carolina Central University and she worked as a consultant for a movie studio, Paramount Pictures. In the 1940s, Zora lived on a houseboat that she called Wanago. And also in a controversial hot take zero oppose the Supreme Court ruling in Brown V. Board, believing integration would actually result in assimilation and destroy the cultural transmission of knowledge between Black teachers and Black students, which I guess makes a bit of sense. At the time, integration meant a lot of Black students went on to have white teachers and a lot of Black teachers were no longer teaching. And cultural representation in education really matters because sometimes without specific cultural understanding, meeting students’ needs can be really hard, and we still see this problem today. So obviously I don't believe in school segregation, but I think Zora’s point could be used today to support hiring diversity and hiring teachers who reflect diverse communities where they teach. Zora was married three times, but it never lasted long. I think they were all like a year, but honestly they’re such a footnote in her life it's hard to find resources on these guys. Through her lifetime, Zora was largely ignored by mainstream white literary critics and she had a large following in the Black community. She was usually underpaid for her work and she lived poorly for most of her life. Towards the end of her life, despite being an accomplished author, she was evicted. She suffered a stroke in 1959, and in old age she was forced to enter the St Lucie County Welfare Home where she was cared for until her death of heart disease on January 28, 1960. Because she had no money or close relatives, she was buried in an unmarked grave and her funeral was held through donations collected from her friends. When Alice Walker, the author known for her book The Color Purple, found out Zora’s grave was unmarked, she decided to do something about it. In 1972, she found Zora’s grave and commissioned a marker for it. The marker reads “ZORA NEALE HURSTON / A GENIUS OF THE SOUTH / NOVELIST FOLKLORIST / ANTHROPOLOGIST / 1901–1960." And yes, she got the birthday wrong, but that's okay because she did an awesome thing recognizing her. Though in life, Zora’s work was overlooked, in death she became an icon, and is considered one of the best writers of her time. Today many modern authors consider her an influence on their work. Her folklife recordings and manuscripts are held in the Zora Neale Hurston archive at the University of Central Florida and can be accessed online through their website or the Library of Congress. Her hometown, Eatonville, Florida, honors her with the Zora Neale Hurston Museum of Fine Arts and the Zora Neale Hurston Library; two fitting tributes to her passion for arts, culture, and literature. And, so I know I said that the reason I picked her was because of Their Eyes Were Watching God, and that's true but that's only half true. Another reason I love Zora Neale Hurston is that when I worked at the zoo there were two bison at the National Zoo, and there's always bison at the National Zoo because the first animal ever exhibited at the National Zoo was a bison and every time there's always two, and one is always named by Howard University and one is always named by Gallaudet University because they’re two universities in DC, and the students vote through a poll to name each of the bison that represent their school. And this started as a tradition because the bison is the mascot of Howard. They are the Howard bison, so that's how this tradition started. And usually the Howard students pick an alum of their university to be the bison's name, and so while I was working at the zoo, the bison named by Howard students was named Zora and she was named after Zora Neale Hurston, who got her associate's degree from Howard University. And that's pretty cool, but unfortunately I just found out recently that Zora passed away March 7, 2020 from an leg injury. And when big animals like bison and horses get leg injuries, they can't really recover. They have to be humanely euthanized, which really stinks. But they do have two new baby bison at the zoo that just got named this July.

HALEY’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again. Lift up your eyes upon This day breaking for you. Give birth again To the dream. Women, children, men, Take it into the palms of your hands, Mold it into the shape of your most Private need. Sculpt it into The image of your most public self. Lift up your hearts Each new hour holds new chances For a new beginning.

Haley: So, like Lexi said, I always say let’s crack open that story book, and that’s exactly what we're gonna do today for Marguerite Annie Johnson or Maya Angelou. I'm gonna try a new way of quote “storytelling” for just in general huge historic heroes by telling a couple of quote “short stories' ' rather than like one long telling of their life-icles.

Lexi: Vignettes.

Haley: What?

Lexi: Vignettes. Like if you ever read the book The Things They Carried– oh my god Lexi’s a literary snob. It's a book told in vignettes.

Alana: Vine was also short for vignettes.

Haley: And I thought it was fitting to do it for our author ladies because like short stories, haha so funny. And especially our author, Maya, has written 36 books and some of those actually include cookbooks, so throwback to our previous episode. So, story number one I've titled quote “I love the uniforms.” So Maya had spent some time in San Francisco, and she was actually the first female African American cable car conductor. So for those of you who are not familiar with San Francisco's cable car, they’re the classic almost like trolley-like vehicles that make a bunch of noise when you hear them. And they're mainly downtown SF to go up and down those massive eff off hills, and they’re a huge tourist attraction at this point. And the secret is, guys do this if you're ever in SF, past corona, all that good stuff. It's fourteen dollars to like ride it. But if you get one of those like day passes included, then that's– like that's what you have to do. You have to make sure the day pass you get or if you're a local because a lot of them use it for their transportation of like if you're on top of Knob Hill you go down the hill or up the hill to get to really where like the financial district stuff is… all the big businesses. and in our like monthly pass where you pay like eighty dollars for it you get like unlimited trolley car… or, cable car… I always called it the trolley. I don't know why, but Robert and other locals would yell at me saying “it's the cable car. The trolley is something different.” They all look the same to me and I'm still gonna get lost either way. Anyhoo, sixteen year old Maya wanted this job and even said on like an Oprah Winfrey talk show, “I loved the uniforms,” hence the title. And it was her mother who actually said that she should go to the city office and get the job if she wanted it so badly. And when she went to the area like where the cable car conductors got hired, she was noted to be reading Russian literature. And she wasn't first hired or even allowed to like apply because of her race. Because surprise surprise, America wasn't woke and it’s still not woke. But she read her Russian literature, like the boss girl she is, and was hired. When she like, she didn't get the application actually before being hired. She was under the legal age so she actually wrote that she was 19 like the badass she was. and as a conductor her mom would also join her. And like she's currently conducting at like the butt crack of dawn at four AM and her mom would kind of go behind a trolley car. And the trolley car isn’t like a closed vehicle. It’s not like a bus or train where the doors close. You can just hop on and you'll see people hold onto a pole and stand on the outside, and cars come like within inches of you. You can't even have like a backpack or something. Like you have to like hug yourself to this pole, essentially. I've almost gotten hit once or twice. Also for cars going by, there are special lanes, if this was like the same back then as well. There are special lanes that these cable cars can go through. Regardless her mom would trail Maya’s cable car and Maya said quote “with her pistol on the passenger seat.” So I love that. I don’t– like I just– ugh. Juicy. And she worked there for about a semester before deciding to return to school. Second story, I'm calling it “getting pen to paper.” In the 1950s, African American writers in New York City formed The Harlem Writers Guild to essentially support Black authors in the publication process and affirm them as the beautiful writers they are. And the Guild is still around today, the link is in the show notes, of course of course. And she was one of the early members and during this time she began to write I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, an autobiography of her life that was published in 1969, And many claim to be her most famous book. This is now where like my memory is kind of getting fuzzy because I read a lot of her books, and a lot of her books– or, most of her books are autobiographies or what she actually created as a genre during this time as autobiographical fiction. And that’s basically taking parts of your life and adding some elaborate essence to connect it more, make it more juicy. And this one I think is the one that took like thirteen years to write. Like she kinda wrote it along with her life and also included some earlier parts. So she just like took truly the most time and it really paid off. And she also during this time in the Guild continued to explore art forms in poetry, dance, music, and even like writing and directing films. So we get just her really explain herself as a writer. And lastly, we have story number three, which I have called quote “On the Pulse of Morning.” And On the Pulse of Morning was the title of the poem she read for Clinton's presidential inauguration in 1993. That's why when Alana was like “hey, let's– let's do a quick nod of the election,” I was like “haha! I got this.” She was the second poet ever to read an original work at a presidential inauguration. The first was Robert Frost at JFK's in 1961. And the poem itself shares themes of inclusion, change, and the role of the president, and like the responsibility it comes with, but also like the role and responsibility a citizen has, which are all things we should just remember right now, 2020. And she was chosen because she grew up in Stamps, Arkansas or like a lot of her childhood was in Stamps, Arkansas, which was rather close to where Clinton was born. And he said that her writing really resonated with him. For example, he was quoted saying ”When I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, I knew exactly who she was talking about and what she was talking about in that book.” And that references how Clinton's grandfather managed a grocery store that was in a predominantly African American neighborhood. And actually for this spoken word poem, was recorded and she ended up winning a Grammy Award in 1994. It was apparently like an amazing amazing thing. I don't have enough time to go searching on the YouTubes for it because I was researching another gal because we're recording two episodes tonight. But it was noted to be almost as like a theatrical performance. She just exuded that power and greatness and dug deep into her roots of being a dancer and performer. Before I finish, because I have my three short stories, I would like to note that Maya at times had a very difficult life with racial injustice, physical and sexual assault, loss, and just– the list goes on. But I did not want to pick stories on that because even in her a lot of her books she would focus on the positives and say how she took the bad and turned it into something good. And each three of those stories had a little nugget so dig deep into what I said and pick out positive from the not so positive; the bad, if you will. And I would just like to share my favorite book of hers which was published in 2013, a year before she died, and it's Mom and Me and Mom. And she also died at age 83 so she lived quite a life. One of my favorite quotes of hers is “If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude.”

ALANA’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: She's beautiful, she's evil, and she'll do anything for love. Never been a movie like Lady Frankenstein.

Alana: I'm so excited for this. My lady for today is Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, née Wollstonecraft Godwin; the teenage girl who invented science fiction and my O.G. goth queen. You may have seen some internet history lessons that you should of course take with more salt than the Dead Sea and I will note those when they come up, but sneak peek I have wonderful news about them. Mary was born August 30, 1797, that makes her a Virgo. Her parents were William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft– yes that Mary Wollstonecraft, the author of A Vindication of the Rights of Women. Side note, I think we should do an episode on pre-first wave feminism feminists and I am calling dibs on Mary Wollstonecraft. They'd only gotten married that March scandal noises, gasp, shock and awe, possibly because William what was this radical anti marriage philosopher freethinker, and then his lover– not my favorite word, but anytime I use the word lover I am referencing Hadestown– was pregnant and it was a propriety thing. Although Mary Wollstonecraft had already had another daughter from a previous affair with an American businessman and I don't think they were married. Yeah, that's the real shock and awe. There is so much shock and awe, scandal in this story. Get ready for it. Just a week and a half after Mary was born on September 10, her mother died of complications from the child birth. And those complications can basically be summed up with 18th century doctors didn't wash their hands. And William Godwin made it very clear to Mary that she was a monster who had killed her mother. Literary scholar Sandra Gilbert has argued that Frankenstein is a projection of her own life. A quote unquote “monster” trying to have a relationship with the parent whose life it ruined. William remarried their neighbor Mary Jane Clairmont who had two kids of her own. And then William and Mary Jane had a son, so now Mary has four half and/or step siblings. Her stepmother vastly preferred her own children. Mary and her stepsister Claire would go on to spend quite a bit of time together but we'll get into that in a bit. Mary found solace at her mother's grave at St Pancras Church in London. She learned to write her name by tracing the letters on the tombstone, and that's only like the third most goth thing about her. But nobody talks about this one. I just think– I think it's like cute goth. Like kawaii goth. She would just like to hang out there and read or whatever like it was her spot. Normal kids have treehouses, Mary had her mother's grave. She published a kids’ book at the age of eleven called, I'm gonna butcher this pronunciation, but it’s not spelled like French so I guess this is on you Mary that I'm gonna mess this up. Mounseer Nongtongpaw; or, the Discoveries of John Bull in a Trip to Paris. It was her father's publishing company, so just a skosh of nepotism there, but it's still cool that she was eleven and published. In 1812, when she was fourteen, her father sent her to Scotland to live with some family friends, the Baxters, at her step mother's request. One of my sources said that Mrs Godwin felt quote “threatened by Mary” who had become the quote “beautiful image of his first wife” which. Mm. I do not like. Do not like. Mm. Okay. But you know what? Whatever though, because Mary is thriving. She feels good, she's away from her wicked stepmother, she's made friends with the Baxters’ youngest daughter Isabel, and she's like healthy and just like thriving. She's, she's living her best self. That November, she briefly visited home and this is potentially– it's kind of disputed by scholars, but this is potentially the first time she met, heart eyes emoji, Percy Shelley but he was still married to his first wife Harriet. Percy had come to study under Mary's father, but they were immediately smitten. In 1814 William Godwin brought his daughter home like for permanents because he wanted her to start earning her own living. But I think if Mary actually met Percy before in 1812, I like to imagine him just being like “hey, Mr Godwin, you know what would be really cool? It would be really cool if Mary were here. Don't you think I would be really cool if Mary were here?” But I… like I don't know if that's what happened. But this is where Percy and Mary have definitely met, and they read together and they have intellectual discussions. He’s very impressed by her parentage and her intellect, and they started their affair and they're very much in love. Mary takes him to her favorite place, her mother's grave, to profess her love for him. This is also where Percy asks her to marry him. And this is our first internet history lesson. You may have seen that Mary Shelley lost her virginity on her mother's grave. Most scholars say yeah. That happened. That's true. Because it was a very– it was a place of emotional growth for Mary. Percy later said that having sex with Mary was his real birthday. I hate this man.

Lexi: It seems like they all had a lot of problems.

Alana: I hate this man. I hate him so much. And we're gonna get more into why I hate him so much, but, okay. Percy supposedly gave Mary's dad twelve hundred pounds, which is now over eighty four thousand pounds, which is over a hundred and ten thousand dollars, in exchange for him to allow Percy and Mary to run away together. Mr Godwin took the money and said no. But Mary and Percy ran away to Switzerland anyway. And Mary's dad doesn't speak to her for two and a half years. I want to point out, Percy is still married to another woman at this point, who was pregnant and they already had a child together.

Haley: I was just about to ask that.

Lexi: Yeah.

Alana: They're still married. Mary’s stepsister, Claire, who I mentioned, comes with them as a translator. But it's possible that Percy was also having an affair with her and they were a throuple. Percy was like all about free love and probably would have been one of those dudes on Bumble who's like “ethical non monogamy.” I'm looking at Lexi because she knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Lexi: I’m like envisioning a meme where it's his profile and he’s got like books, book emoji, cigarette emoji. He’s real edgy.

Alana: Oh yeah, totally. There is also evidence that Mary had affairs too, so this is like 19th century polyamory. Claire did eventually leave their household when Mary's jealousy kind of like physically made her ill. It just like she sank into this deep depression that magically got better when Claire moved out. They’re constantly on the move because Percy owes a lot of people a lot of money and he has to keep running away from creditors. Like, he– he gave someone a hundred and ten thousand dollars for permission to do something he was gonna do anyway. So, hm. Not great.

Speaker 1: Here is what everyone is waiting for, the writing of Frankenstein. This is a very famous story that they've done on Drunk History which was very funny to watch a drunk person try and say Wollstonecraft Godwin. I died laughing for ten whole minutes. And there’s an episode of Doctor Who about it, and side note the Thirteenth Doctor is chef's kiss A plus amazing, it's a whole new show and I love it. So 1816 was the year without a summer because the Indonesian volcano Mount Tamboro, I hope I'm pronouncing that right, had erupted the year before and covered basically the whole planet in a giant ash cloud. I am being dramatic, but my point is it was dark and gloomy and rainy the whole summer across Europe. So Claire’s back, and she’s pregnant with Lord Byron's– yes, that Lord Byron’s– child. And Lord Byron is staying at the Villa Diodati in Geneva, and the three of them meet him there and they're all hanging out. Are they having orgies? Maybe. Byron and Percy had been talking about Romantic– capital R. romantic, as in the 19th century cultural movement, those kind of ideas about death and magic and life and ooky spooky stuff. And so they start a ghost-story off. And this is where Mary begins Frankenstein. It wasn't all written in that night. I feel like that's a misconception, that she wrote all of it that night, but that was just like the idea. Most of it was actually written in Bath when everyone went back to England. And it wasn’t off-the-cuff either. Like Mary had a really hard time coming up with her idea. Percy and Mary finally got real married in December of 1816 after his first wife Harriet committed suicide. Apparently she was pregnant with another man's child, but honey have you seen what's going on here? I think you would've been fine. But Percy was denied custody of their children and he believed he might have a better chance of getting custody if he were quote– massive air quotes– “settled down.” This didn't work, but Mary's dad starts talking to her again, so that's nice. And Mary had a huge role in Percy Shelley's legacy, probably because some of survivor's guilt. He drowned in a shipwreck with two of his friends off the coast of Italy in July 1822 while Mary was recovering from a miscarriage that almost killed her. When Percy's body washed up, he was only identifiable by the Keats poetry in his pocket. Percy was cremated on the beach and his heart did not burn. That's true. Modern doctors say it probably calcified from a bout with tuberculosis earlier in his life. One of his friends took the heart and kept it and only gave it to Mary after her constantly bugging him. Which leads us to our second internet history lesson. Did she keep Percy Shelley's heart? Yes and no. When Mary died in 1850, her family definitely found his heart in her desk wrapped in the pages of his final poem, Adonaïs which is like a really sweet love poem. You should read that. But read Frankenstein first. Did she actually carry it everywhere? Uncertain. Maybe, but they definitely found it in her desk so she definitely had it. We're– we're not really sure where it is now. I don't know how that's possible, but I have conflicting sources. It's possible that it's with Mary or with their only child who had reached adulthood Percy Florence Shelley. They’d had a bunch of kids who either died super young or only lived like a few days. Mary is primarily responsible for the posthumous collection of Percy Shelley's work. So that's like all her. It’s like in her writing credits that she edited all of these collections. After Percy died, Mary turned down several marriage proposals because she quote “wanted to be Mary Shelley on her tombstone” which is really sweet. Side note, thank you to 19th century people for writing down all your feelings in like journals and thoughts and everything and then keeping them. I love that we know what you were thinking because there was no Twitter for you to document your whole lives the way that I do, although of course if you see me on Twitter, no you don't. This is where the stories about her usually stop after, Percy died. But, Alana, you said that she died in 1850, Percy died in 1822. What on earth did she do with those 28 years? I am so glad that you asked. First of all, she wrote a bunch more, thank you very much. Five more novels that weren't Frankenstein were published in her lifetime and at least twenty short stories. While she was no longer the radical she had been when she was with Percy, she took it upon herself to protect the women in her life. Claire, who lived with her on and off, obviously who I brought up a couple times. She lived with and supported the wife and children of one of Percy's friends who had also drowned. She helped her childhood friend Isabel, Isabel Baxter, from before, get out of England when she had a child out of wedlock. So she was protecting her, her friends. Mary died of brain cancer in 1850. Her son and his wife had her parents’ bodies exhumed and she's buried between them in St Peter's Church in Bournemouth. There are plans for a Mary Shelley museum in Bath, just up the street from the Jane Austen Centre and very much in the same style of like employees in period clothes and family friendly. The most recent article that I found about it was from June and one of the people in charge of it said that it would be finished by the end of the year slash early 2021, and that tourism would pick back up by then, but it's November and the U. K. just went back into lockdown, so I don’t think that schedule is still what’s happening. But, once travel is a thing again and once that Mary Shelley museum is open I think Lady History field trip to Bath. Shout outs to some professor at the University of Central Missouri for putting their study guide or test for Frankenstein as a PDF on the university website. The timeline of Mary's life on the first few pages was very helpful. I hope it wasn't a student who cheated, but the url is like UCM dot EDU, so… I just– I love Mary Shelley so much. I used– I made this joke in high school when we were reading Frankenstein that I think I am Mary Shelley reincarnated. Like if reincarnation is real, I would buy that. Like I'm only half kidding. But if reincarnation is real, which I don't know. I don't know if reincarnation is real. I know hell is not real, that's for sure. I also think it would be cool to be a ghost. Anyway… Lexi why are you laughing at me?

Lexi: It’s just very you.

Alana: Yeah. Anyway. So that is the story of Mary Shelley, the teenager who invented science fiction, and if you think it was some like, Isaac Asimov or whatever, who I literally saw in a meme once. If you think a man invented sci fi you are incorrect.

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on lady history pod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review or tell your friends,and if you don't like the show keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, Garageband, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us next time, on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next time on Lady History; we're going to be discussing some ladies whose lives were unfortunately cut a little too short.

#womens history #feminist history #literary history #mary shelley #maya angelou #zora neale hurston

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vanaera · 5 years

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You Will Feel A Flash of Red

Synopsis | Seokjin colors your life with his outrageous ideas and unnecessarily wild adventures, along with his stupid mission to always scare you whenever you run into each other. Against your better judgment, you’ve already started to entertain foreign feelings in your heart concerning the certain boy. And it doesn’t help you already get scared easily without him adding his shenanigans in the mix. You just want Seokjin to stop…making you feel too much all at once. Genre | Fluff, semi-crack Characters | Seokjin x Reader (College!AU bc I’m soft and my uni life is mundane af) Wordcount | 2.7k A/N | Hi hons, this is something short and fluffy I came up with while I’m resting from my recent 21k-wordsmash-work Daffodil Rings. Hope you like this!

Everything can be colorful if you will them enough to. Grocery shoppings can be filled with oranges and greens that warm you up as you push past the cold airconditioned mart. Laundry days can be cooled with the tranquility of blues and whites that coax your eyes to relax from such a fast-paced week. You learned to make this your coping mechanism ever since you started associating colors for everything that lived in your grey, mundane life.

Your study table and work station are your usual pliant canvases to your color imageries. However, your biggest coloring book has to be the people that surround you. For instance, your bestfriend, Park Jimin, is a golden drizzle of yellow for his unfailing optimism whether it be finals week or rush hour dashes. Meanwhile, your other friend, Kim Namjoon, is an inky indigo for his strange concurrent displays of placidity and chaos wherever he goes. Your roommate, Wendy Seon, is an easy magenta for her innateness to attract attention wherever she goes. Unlike her, Min Yoongi, your batch representative, was a hard-to-determine cream white for his introvertedness and tough-bitch acts. But among these people you have met, there is one who stands out like a sore thumb: Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin is a friend of Namjoon and you only knew about it when you shared a general education film class with him in sophomore year. He was easy to say…a different story from anyone you’ve met.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Your eyes flit to your left to meet the eyes of the boy seated next to you and you nodded slowly. How did he know you? Much more your name? You’re sure you’ve never met him before and you’re much surer you’re someone everyone can easily miss.

“Namjoon told me your name when I asked him about you. I’m Kim Seokjin,” he offers a hand. You shook it slowly, your head tilted to the side, still bewildered as to how he knew you. Unfazed by your questioning stare, Seokjin grins. “I didn’t know you’re also taking this class.”

“I…I like films so yeah,” you shrug.

“Me too!” Seokjin chuckles. He leans closer to your seat. “You’re in the biochemistry program right?”

Your forehead furrows. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I am in the biology program and I saw you going out of the lab when our class was about to start in the same lab. Your blue scrunchie gave you away.”

Your hand deftly reached up to your ponytail and Seokjin laughs. “Don’t worry, you look cute with it,” he waves off and the furrows on your forehead only grow deeper. What is this man spouting about? Is he outright hitting on you–

The door swings open and the professor barks the usual morning greeting. Your thoughts were immediately halted. A few minutes is all it takes for everything to settledown into a metronome of students whispering across each other and pens scribbling notes. You wouldn’t have found yourself bothered again by the strange man sitting beside you if Seokjin didn’t just open his mouth to say the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life when the professor asked everyone what names they would like to be called in class.

“Señorita. Call me señorita.”

Needless to say, the class erupted into a hysterics and you’re left wondering for days (and oddly irritated) why everyone finds it so funny to bring that scenario up again and again until the next two weeks.

Such small timeframe is also enough for you to say Seokjin’s a mess. But oh, everyone will disagree. They will say “Oh my God, how can Seokjin be a mess? He’s like the university crush and he has damn good grades and have you seen him wearing those goggles during lab hours?! He’s the only one handsome enough to pull it off as a fashion statement! ” in their wistfully annoying voice. First of all, you don’t care whether he’s good in what he does or he has a really good-looking face. What else but a mess will be someone who’s all-over-the-place?

Some days, Seokjin is a calm sky blue you can actually have fun with talking about film what-ifs and chemistry memes.

“Yo Y/N, imagine if The Princess and The Frog was remade and instead of a frog, the prince is a pterodactyl.”

“I don’t want to imagine that.”

“The solution of the plot will still work though. You can’t kiss pterodactyls though, but guess what?”

“I don’t want to guess.”

“C’mon, just play along!”

“Fine, what?”

“They will peck you!”

“Have you ever wondered what Australia will be called if it suddenly finds itself abundant of silver.”

“No. Leave Australia alone.”

Seokjin doesn’t hear you and bursts out “Agstralia!” He guffaws at his own joke and you can’t help but snicker at his priceless face and laugh at yourself in pity for finding it even remotely funny.

When his laughter dies down, Seokjin goes again, “Then what if it’s filled with copper?”

You don’t want to answer him, already biting your lip in silent laughter.

“Custralia!”

Most of the days, Seokjin’s a fiery orange of fireworks who drags you into the wildest rides of your life with his ever loud, but oddly inviting, “Yo, Y/N!” Like that one Monday afternoon he coaxed you (in some goddamn way you dumbly agreed to) to scavenge for some specimen of Bermuda grass to see it under the microscope and check if it has any semblance to the Bermuda Triangle (of course it has none). You accomplished nothing that day but run around like cockroaches with no heads when an old woman chased you for trampling on her “garden” which is just a plain expanse of grass. Or that one Wednesday morning he asked you to accompany him in his dorm just in case he managed to summon a demon when he tries to cook using an old Latin cookbook he found in some thrift store. You didn’t summon anything that day but you ended up with you two getting summoned by the condominium’s landlord because Seokjin accidentally set off the unit’s fire alarm.

There are also times when Seokjin’s an endearing bloom of pink. Like those days when his hand casually brushes against yours as you walk side by side to your film class and he’ll send you one of his goofy smiles. Or those weekends where he’ll accompany you to study in the library, helping you make flash cards for your upcoming long quizzes. Seokjin makes you feel warm at the slightest of stares and lingering gazes. Especially in those nights where he lays his head on your shoulder as you watch required films, and he’ll stare at you while doing kissy faces when you tell him his head is too heavy. You never knew you would be able to fill something, no someone, in such a delicate color you know you have already started to reflect on your cheeks just at the sight of him.

But all of that gets ruined because Seokjin always, always, makes you see blazing scarlet everytime he carries on his life mission to scare you whenever you meet. It started when your professor assigned your class to watch The Shining for a horror genre essay and you, like the scaredy cat you are, begged Seokjin to watch it with you. Of course you didn’t tell him you’re not too fond of horror films, afraid of being called out. Obviously, it only takes one stare at your curled up form for Seokjin to put two and two together and realize you’re such a…coward. And of course, like the obnoxious boy he is, Seokjin takes advantage of such knowledge and decides you need a little spice in your life–a spice you didn’t really need, nor will ever need in your entire life.

Whenever you’ll meet him on the corridors of your film class, Seokjin is now nowhere to be found. Instead, he’ll demand you to answer a quick survey first, a condition for him to show up, and you, like the exasperated idiot you are, answer it just to get on and over with it. Like always, you end up screaming at a scary video mid-answering the questions and you never learn your lesson. Everytime you’ll pass by each other in hallways, Seokjin bellows a loud “Boo!” with a thunderous clap of his huge ass hands and you always jump in shock like a cat on her hackles. You never knew how to expect the shits he pull up because Seokjin always changes his patterns. One day, he even pulled up a Scream mask by your locker just right after you closed it shut, making you scream as you fall on your bum.

At the end of the day, Seokjin always makes sure to apologize and assure you that it’s just his way to bond with you. “I just can’t get enough of your priceless face” he snickers and you start to chuckle too at his attempts – because even if you’re scared, his shenanigans actually helped you, in some way, get less scared of horror film jump scares.

However today–today is a different straw.

It was nine o'clock in the evening and you just got out of your building after an org meeting. The campus gate you usually take in your commute home was already locked closed at eight so you have no choice but to take the other gate–the one on the far left boundary of the campus. All would have been fine about that gate if you hadn't read the Facebook freedom wall post concerning it yesterday. Apparently, some student was jogging around the route towards the gate every night before he goes back to his dorm. In the entirety of his jog, he hears footsteps behind him that he didn't mind at first– until he passes by a guard who greets him and asks him what's he's doing alone so late. When he glances to the left, there was actually no one following him.

At the thought of the Facebook post, you grab the straps of your bagpack tighter. All is well. You just have about twenty meters to go before the gate and after that, you'll get on a bus. Just a little bit more and–

Step. Step. Step.

Jesus fucking Christ. You bit your lip and walked faster. Your steps are frantic and you could feel cold perspiration start to form on your nape. You could feel yourself tripping on your shoes anytime soon but the only thought running in your mind now is outrunning the thing behind you.

However, the steps behind you also quickened its pace.

Fucking shit. You break into a run. You don't care about social conventions nor how ridiculous you probably look right now with your eyes teary, mouth dry, and hair frazzled. All you know is that you have to get OUT of there.

But your effort is not enough because just five steps in, a hand shoots out behind you and you have nothing to do but scream. Scream, drop down, and cry.

“Leave me a-alone please. Just let m-me go home. I'm to-too young to die!”

“Yo Y/N. It's me, Seokjin.”

You cried harder.

In the next second, you feel him squat down and gesture toward your arms, tightly corded around your knees with your head still buried between them. But you didn't move. You can't move. Your fingers are still shaking, and your heart won't stop pounding too fast. And you feel like any second right now, you're about to explode.

“Y/N, I'm sorry I scared you. I just saw you going out and I have something to say to you before you go home.”

You couldn't hold it in. You pin Seokjin with the meanest glare you can muster. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO COME AT ME LIKE THAT THEN?!”

“I was just running after you! You were walking too fast and you didn't see me so I–”

“I thought you were a ghost! Jesus Christ!”

“A ghost?” Jin sputters before breaking out into a loud guffaw. “I'm so handsome to be a ghost. Seriously, Y/N–”

“It's not funny anymore you know,” you whisper. Seokjin's chuckles immediately die down. “Can you just stop,” you hiccup, “scaring me everytime we meet? It's not good for my heart.”

“I...I didn't know you felt like that,” Seokjin mumbles and he looks down, rubbing his nape. “I...I thought you were also having fun because you always laugh after it.”

“It was fun,” you admit, “but it's also scary. I'm a coward you know. I have my limits.”

“I'm sorry,” Seokjin mumbles. But before you can reply that it's alright as long as he doesn't do this shit again, he has already cupped your face in his hands, leaving you no choice but to look at him. Look at him in all your snotty glory.

Seokjin however, doesn't seem to care. “I'm sorry I scared you that bad. I would not have started doing this scaring thing if I knew it will end up with you breaking down. I'm sorry I didn't know you get scared this bad. I don't like...making you cry.” At this, you feel his thumbs pressing on your cheeks and wiping away the tears that have streaked down in your panic. You can't move, this time for a different reason. You can't feel anything but the presence of the boy in front of you. His warm, beautiful eyes that only look like that when they meet your eyes; his much warmer hand that feels too big on your face–big and secure enough for your hand to hold with an assurance he’ll never let go. His cheeks are rosy, just like his ears and you feel oddly elated it has grown pinker just in five more seconds of staring at his eyes. And his lips–pink and plump and looking so soft–fills your senses into sensory overload that you honestly feel you're heating up like a boiling kettle by now.

Good for you, Seokjin doesn't question your frozen stance and silently helps you up on your feet. “Sorry’s not enough. I'll make up for what I did. C'mon.”

Before you knew it, he's already steering you away from the gate and back into the campus. And now at ten thirty, you find yourself munching on a strawberry ice cream cone with Seokjin beside you, your knees bumping into each other.

“Why do you do it anyway?”

“What do I do?”

“Scaring me,” You answer, wiping your lips.

“Are you...still angry about it? I'm sorr–”

“No,” you wave off, “I'm just...curious, yeah. I've never had someone doing that to me and you're probably the only one crazy enough to do that. I'm just curious why you do it in the first place.”

“Well, you already said it," Seokjin chuckles. “No one has ever done it to you yet. So I did.”

Your brows raise, your forehead furrows. "Wh-why?”

“Because I want to be different when it comes to you. I've seen you goofing off with Jimin on hallways and–I don't know why, I just get this feeling that I have to be unique when it comes to you.”

“Why? I mean," you sputter, "I don't require you to be…different to be my friend.”

“I just want to. It feels good that I get to be the wild adventure of your life. It feels good that I get you to look only at me like that–begrudging but curious, skeptical but willing, and," he smiles, "cute. Especially when I get you to laugh.”

You look at him, mouth agape, but Seokjin just laughs and gestures you to eat your ice cream because it's starting to melt. You oblige, but you can't help but let your eyes linger on the boy next to you. The boy you didn’t know was like the biggest hotshot of your batch but was the one to actually remember you from the crowd just by your favorite scrunchie. The boy who used to be your greatest dilemma but now the best highlight of your life. The boy that annoys you to no end but oddly makes your heart flutter at the same time. Seokjin, the boy you can now begrudgingly admit you're definitely crushing on. Because you know there's no other answer to the overwhelming, warm flash of soft red you feel on your chest whenever you're with him.

You know you're right because after that night, you start to associate Seokjin mostly with red. Fresh roses, picnic dates, heart-shaped promises, sweet laughter, cherry kisses–a plethora of everything your heart started to long for.

A/N | HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST GIRL @sophrosinn!!! Thank you for being a stable shoulder I can lean on in times of problems, for being a great listener to everything I rant about, and for being one of my bestest friends who never failed to support me in my dreams. (Thank you for also comforting me when I broke down in our live news presentation in our media literacy class. I’ll never forget that). I never imagined you’ll be one of my few friends I get to keep ‘til now since it’s only two years ago we got to really, really talk with each other. Remember how we just used to pass by and greet each other in our freshman until 11thgrade year in high school? Such a great plot twist. Time sure flies fast when you’re with the best people. Meeting you is surely a blessing. I wish you more amazing years ahead of you and may you accomplish all your endeavors. I love you!

P.S. I hope you liked this fluffy fic hehe this idea started to bother me ever since your birthday started to near. And yeah, I HAVE to include the pterodactyl joke because it’s your and Jin’s trademark uwu

#kwritersworldnet #bangtan bookclub #btsguild #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fluff #seokjin fluff #bts x you #seokjin x you #AHHHHH IT'S HERE #FINALLY SOMETHING NEW

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amadiallo · 4 years

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tagged by: @redjamies !!!

rules: tag 10 followers whoeva you want to get to know better

name: taylor

gender: cis female

star sign: pisces

height: 5′1 (everybody mind ya business and keep scrolling ncnmcvb)

age: 24

wallpaper on my phone: it’s the pic of daisy ridley, john boyega n oscar isaac that jj abrams posted after they finished filming tros.

house: gryffindor.

ever crush on a teacher: ya i thought my history teacher was cute for like 2 months but then i realised he had weird eyes nmcbxvcnm

coolest halloween costume: harley quinn . i know that was crazy overdone at one point but i literally went allllll out for this so ya.

favorite 90’s tv show: fresh prince

last kiss: ummm probs like a month ago w co workers bc we were playing dumb drinking games nxcbvcnm .

have you ever been stood up: ya

favorite pair of shoes: my nba chuck taylors

have you ever been to vegas: nopeee

favorite fruit: green apples or grapes

favorite book: bold of u to assume i read . bro imma just say t.h.u.g bc it was the last book i read.

stupidest thing you’ve ever done: drunkenly bought my co worker a £200 lapdance.

all time favorite shows: pll, 90210, all american, big mouth, himym pre finale.

last movie you saw in theaters: i thiiiiink it was jojo rabbit?

tagging: @soojiiin, @daniellemaries, @britshits, @michaelsmunroe, @sweetenrz, @mvdipetsch @goodncws and everyone who reads this !!! <3

#abt me.#thanks for tagging !!!

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forestwater87 · 5 years

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Cutting Myself on all this Edge

This post has no reason to exist, except that I keep bothering my friends with literally dozens of messages making fun of this and I need a place to keep it all.

What is “this”? Oh, just some people having some Fucking Strong Opinions about how Harry Potter is the Pied Piper (they use that comparison multiple times. It gets old fast) leading our children into the End Times with its pro-illuminati Satan-worshiping witchcraft lessons. You know, the usual.

And no, this isn’t a battle of Forest vs. the Crazy Christians; I’m like 94% sure I’m not working through any sort of religious trauma, partly because I never went deep into this kind of mentality but mostly because I’m just delighted by The Cutting Edge, a website for a very specific type of Christian (no, not you, Catholics. You’re specifically not invited to the Cutting Edge club because you worship demons) interested in the New World Order, the evils of public schools, and Satan’s favorite color.

No, really.

Satan’s favorite color is green. They don’t . . . really explain why.

This site still exists and is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Hours of fun for the whole family. I mean, look at their logo:

And look at their illustration that goes along with their particular Harry Potter series:

Are you not entertained?!

I cannot stop reading these amazing essays -- which delve surprisingly deep into Potter lore, considering they say that there is no sufficient reason for a Christian to ever read a single page of these books -- and I can’t keep harassing my friends with thousands of notifications, so here we are.

Starting small, let’s read the book review for Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s/Philosopher’s Stone. Or, as they prefer to call it:

This book chronicles Harry's first year at the Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Prepare to be shocked for the bold, blatant, and bodacious raw Satanism that underlines this story! Since "proper"Drug Use is essential in opening the centres of vision and achieving higher consciousness, we should not be surprised that First-Year students learn Drug Use, Drug creation, in a way that makes Drug use seem glorious! You will be shocked to see '666 ' in the story line, and symbols of Antichrist receiving a "fatal wound"!

That’s the entire subtitle. That’s just how they roll on

THE CUTTING EDGE

Part 1: The . . . Plot? I Guess?

This story introduces us to Harry Potter, an orphaned boy sent to live with his "horrible" Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their fat, obnoxious son, Dudley.

I feel very comfortable with the fact that Cutting Edge has chosen to put scare quotes around the word “horrible,” like that’s up for debate. Combined with the very normal and sane opinions expressed elsewhere on the site, this really bodes well for their ideas about parenting and childcare in general.

all through this book, any non-witch folk -- like Vernon and Petunia -- are depicting in disgusting language.

Typo is theirs, as is the apparent offense they take to the fictional depiction of people who are very much not real. While there hasn’t been any exciting formatting going on yet in this essay, I will replicate it as much as possible, and any changes made will be clearly indicated through square brackets and ellipses.

Non-witch people are known as Muggles , and they are depicting as being "dumber than a box of rocks", of being physically obscene, and of living the most boring, unimaginative lives possible.

I was going to argue that this isn’t true, but I suppose we don’t really meet any cool Muggles in the first book. I guess I have to give them this, but I don’t feel good about it.

Witches, on the other hand, are depicted as being very smart, very "with it", of being physically normal, and of living wonderfully exciting lives

It bears repeating:

a flashback scene to the time 10 years earlier when Harry's Mom and Dad were psychically murdered by evil Lord Voldemort

Okay. Now I’m no Potterologist, and so I’m hoping any true believers will correct me if I misinterpret the holy texts,* but I don’t think Harry’s parents were psychically murdered by anyone. I’m pretty sure they were quite literally, physically made dead. Just because it’s a beam of magic doesn’t mean it’s not physical anymore, does it? Voldy didn’t Professor-X Harry’s parents and they died of three D10 psychic damage or anything; he just fucking killed them with a wizard gun. Am I wrong here?

*By which I obviously mean Harry Potter. It teaches children how to become Satanists; we’re clearly dealing with a book of immense spiritual relevance.

Skipping a little bit of plot summary, which is a combination of, well, summary of the plot, although Cutting Edge is determined to get Hogwarts’ name wrong, and a little bit of baffling End-Times(?) nonsense thrown in for funsies --

Of course, a Christian would be immediately alerted to this turn of events [in which Harry defeats Voldemort and is scarred] because soon a supernaturally powerful global leader will demand everyone on earth take some sort of a mark in exactly this place on the body.

What?

-- and there’s some weird formatting things going on that I think are supposed to imply something sinister but really just come off as goofy:

They have Harry on a boat headed for nowhere and they had every intention of keeping Harry from ever attending Hogwarts School. However, Harry receives supernatural assistance.

(It’s not letting me do colors on desktop, which is stupid, but that “supernatural” is supposed to be both bold and red)

There’s a long description about the difference between the Real and Fantasy worlds, which apparently Satanists try to live in both of (and so does Harry, making him also a Satanist. This is actually one of the less-stupid arguments Cutting Edge has for Harry’s Satanism, so just go with it) that’s honestly more boring than funny so I’m skipping it. Then we get to a much more fun section: why Rowling’s descriptions of Muggles are . . . teaching children to hate Jesus?

Part 2: Rowling Hates Muggles

Rowling consistently depicts people who do not practice Witchcraft in most obnoxious terms. They are depicted as being really, really dumb, boring, and living a life not worth living . We share these examples, below, with you so you can appreciate the truth of this statement. Uncle Vernon was also the only Muggle quoted in the book as being really opposed to Witchcraft; therefore, when readers see how stupid, ugly, and boring Vernon is, they get the idea that all people who are opposed to Witchcraft must be as stupid, ugly, and boring as Vernon is.

... Are all people opposed to Witchcraft cowardly bullies?

I mean, you are the one going after a children’s book for daring to entertain children, so if the shoe fits . . .

"Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang ... Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader." [p. 31] How do you know your own child does not think of you in these terms? After all, you are a non-magical Muggle.

I actually can’t complain, because this is just accurate. I 100% hate my parents and think they’re stupid because they’re not literally witches/wizards. Our relationship has never fully recovered.

"Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on." [p. 47] Remember Adolf Hitler, the most famous Black Magick wizard in modern history? He depicted Jews as Rats in his Propaganda Machinery, convincing the Germans they should extermination the "vermin".

GODWIN’S LAW HAS LANDED!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OR IN-BETWEEN, WE HAVE OFFICIALLY COMPARED HARRY POTTER TO HITLER!

We find it highly interesting that, later in the book, when the Evil Lord Voldemort is supposedly killing the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, the color of the blood of the unicorn is silver!

Okay, but like . . . why? I mean, it immediately follows a description of the Bloody Baron, who is depicted with silvery blood because he’s, like, a ghost, but I’m not sure what that has to do with unicorns or with Satan. Are unicorns associated with Satan? Is silver associated with Satan?

Is everything Satan? Am I Satan?

There’s a lot of rage at a gentleman named Chuck Colson throughout this section, who apparently made the grave error of telling parents it was okay for their children to read Harry Potter because it doesn’t involve contact with the supernatural. And I’ll admit, that seems like a pretty bad defense of the books, because if you define “supernatural” as ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever the hell Voldemort is, then there is absolutely a metric buttload of supernatural stuff in here.

Arguably, a better defense of why it’s okay for children to read these children’s books is that they are books made for children, but YMMV on that one. Probably depends on whether or not you think children are sitting in the giant metaphorical (or literal? Not sure Cutting Edge gets metaphors) lap of the Antichrist every time they pick up the books.

(A visual reminder.)

Part 3: Basically Part 2, But This Time There Are Colors

The next section is on colors, which are very important to Cutting Edge. As linked back in the very beginning of this post, there is an entire essay devoted to the demonic colors used in the Harry Potter books, but we get just a taste of it here:

Rowling makes use of vivid colors in her story line. Some of these colors are consistent with the colors preferred by Satan and his followers in the Occult. Rowling's use of such vivid colors also enables her to paint the Fantasy Reality of Witchcraft as THE most exciting place to live. Wizard of Oz uses the same technique: when Dorothy is in her real world in Kansas, the color is black and white, but when she steps into her Fantasy Reality, the scene explodes in the most wonderful color.

Interesting interpretation. An alternative view is that Rowling needs to use more descriptors for things within the Wizarding World, because her readers won’t have the same frame of reference to draw from that they do with real-life objects and events in the Muggle World, and one can assume that these lovely descriptions are part of her being a, y’know, good and evocative writer, and the colors are just related to how she pictured the world she was creating.

But I mean, yours is good, too.

Actually, the citations provided by Cutting Edge don’t depict anything especially vivid; it’s not like she’s throwing massive amounts of purple prose at the descriptions of the Satanic green of Harry’s eyes. In fact, the only enhancer used is “emerald” at one point. For the most part, this essayist is just . . . noticing when the word “green” appears in the text and calling it a siren song to entice good Christian children out of the colorless world of reality and goodness and into the technicolor dreamland of magic and mayhem.

Also, please remember that Satan has a favorite color, and it’s green. For all birthdays and Christmases (or wait, whatever the Satanic version of Christmas is! Halloween?), please make sure all gifts are green or green-adjacent.

Even though Harry is nearly as powerful as a Black Magick practitioner, and could easily have decided to go over to that side, he declines to go over to the Dark Arts. Dumbledore assures Harry that he is not evil as Lord Voldemort. However, as a symbol of the Black Arts he could perform, Rowling makes Harry's eyes green.

This observation -- and I use the term loosely -- implies that every single Slytherin and villain of the Harry Potter series would have green eyes, to demonstrate their capacity for evil. The fact that this is obviously not the case must just be a red herring.

Part . . . 4, I think?: Drugs, Magic, and Magic Drugs

Harry and his friends learn how to makedrugs, and the glory of taking them.

The fact that they don’t actually take any in this book is entirely irrelevant. (”Drugs” should also be red as well as bolded. It’s very serious business.)

The plant, wormwood, contains thujone, an hypnotic drug, banned by the FDA since 1915 [Christian News, "Latest Potter Book Meets Cautionary Response From Christians, July 17, 2000] ; further, wormwood is used to make Absinthe, a hallucinogenic liquor. Therefore, the drug to which Rowling makes reference is very real, and is so dangerous the FDA has banned it -- to this day, it is banned!

While thujone was illegal at the time of this essay in the United States, it was actually never banned in the UK . . . you know, where these books take place and were written? I don’t think Rowling gives a solitary fuck about our FDA standards. Also, I don’t know if you could just straight-up buy wormwood on whatever the equivalent of Amazon was in 1998 (was it just Amazon?), but you sure can now. Can’t be all that scary.

You can hardly get a better description of drug use, and drug glorification than this!

I wonder why they keep using red to emphasize all these evil things . . . you’d think they’d go with Satan’s favorite color/the sign that Harry is the Antichrist to really jazz up all of the evil.

"The drug message in this book is clear. To reach your goals in life like Harry Potter, you need to know how to make drugs and take drugs in just the right way or else you are a 'dunderhead' and will never succeed." [http://www.fflibraries.org/Book_Reports/HarryPotter ; written by a physician and father who asked to remain anonymous].

The fact that this URL doesn’t lead me to that review is one of the saddest things I’ve faced all month.

The sections on spellcasting are far less interesting, reiterating a pretty simple refrain: all magic is bad, because the books say some magic is good then the books are bad, it’s all teaching children about Satanism. Rinse and repeat.

During final exams, teachers passed out special quills with which to write; these quills had been "bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell". The reason none of the teachers felt they could trust the honor of the students to not cheat is obvious enough; in Witchcraft, no Absolute Good and Evil exists. All objective, eternal standards of conduct and morality have been rejected. Therefore, teachers knew full well that all the students would cheat on their final exams if they thought they could get away with it. It is a sad commentary that teachers had to place an Anti-Cheating spell on the quills to prevent exams cheating. Christian parent, is this the "morality" you want your students to learn?

Now, it might just be my obvious Satanist addiction to witchcraft talking, but doesn’t it seem more likely that there’s an anti-cheating spell because sometimes . . . children cheat? And no amount of Good Wholesome Christian Teaching is going to completely eradicate the desire to cheat on a test, because of course it isn’t.

It’s not because the school has taught the students that cheating is okay and cool and sexy or whatever -- in fact, if you want evidence that there is an absolute moral standard against cheating, it would be that the teachers are actively taking steps to prevent it! If witchcraft really was all about how there’s no such thing as good and evil . . . well, for one thing they wouldn’t teach Defense against the motherfucking Dark Arts, but they also wouldn’t care if their students cheated enough to provide anti-cheating quills, because they wouldn’t consider cheating a bad thing, because they wouldn’t consider anything a bad thing!

Also, I’m not sure what listing all of the spells in the book and what they do really says about Satanism, except that . . . spells exist, and are used? Which I feel like you should really expect from the book about magic and wizards; if that’s an alarming surprise, then you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere way earlier down the road.

Part whatever: Seriously, Rowling is just ALL ABOUT Satan

This entire section is basically about how JKR must be a Satanist, because she apparently depicts the world of magic and the occult with perfect accuracy, and how could she do that except through being an active practicing witch herself?

Mirrors are believed to be a portal to another dimension, including Time. Occultists believe they can go forward or backward in Time with a mirror being one of the Dimensional Portals. Harry encounters a mirror, "magnificent ... as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet ... Harry stepped in front of it. He had to clasp his hand to his mouth to stop himself from screaming ... for he had seen, not only himself in the mirror but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him ... 'Mom?', he whispered. 'Dad?' They just looked at him, smiling ... Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life." [p. 208-9]

Intriguing theory, except of course for the fact that the mirror isn’t a portal to jack shit; unless you count the weird trick where he can get the stone (and only the stone) through wishes or whatever the fuck these idiots do, and all it does is show someone what they want. It’s not actually reaching into the past to find Harry’s parents or whatever, just like it’s not actually reaching into a parallel dimension future where Ron is the king of everything. It’s just . . . idk, reading their subconscious and throwing up a neat visual or something. With magic. It’s complex, but it’s definitely not what Cutting Edge says it is.

Not pictured: a portal to another physical, metaphysical or temporal dimension. It’s literally . . . just a mirror, but a mirror that reflects your insides instead of your outsides. It’s clever or something.

Do you realize Rowling has just made the creator of the Sorcerer's Stone 666 years old? Do you realize what this means? Since the number, '666', is a symbol of Antichrist and his Mark of the Beast [Revelation 13:18] and since Rowling ties this number to the Elixir of Life, Harry Potter is teaching children that the way to achieve eternal life [Elixir of Life] is to obey the Antichrist and take his Mark of the Beast!

Fucking. Yes. I don’t even have witty commentary for this, I’m just delighted by every word in that section. I’m smiling so much.

This is a gift and we’re reading it for free!

Wonderful! We have the forbidden practice of drinking blood in this Potter book, forbidden in Scripture [Genesis 9:4-5] but practiced regularly in Satanism. I wonder if Chuck Colson, Focus On The Family, and Christianity Today ever told their Christian followers about this? Have they even read this book, before they issued their acceptance of Potter?

Don’t you dare try to employ sarcasm. People who believe in the Illuminati and New World Order are not allowed to be sarcastic -- even if the thought of this faceless stranger typing that little clever “Wonderful!” and smirking to themselves about how witty they are is a very, very good mental image.

Also, what the fuck did unicorns do to deserve being associated with the Antichrist? I mean, I get the color green; it’s the color of nature and the outdoors, and that shit fucking sucks. (Fuck you, trees!) But unicorns?

Unicorns have never done anything to anyone, ever. Unicorns couldn’t be Satanists if they tried.

This means evil Lord Voldemort -- whose killing curse upon Harry, his Mom, and his Dad had rebounded against him when Harry did not die -- is near death, and is seeking to drink the Unicorn's blood to stay alive long enough to finally achieve eternal life through drinking the '666' Elixir of Life.

Yes, that is -- sort of -- the plot of this book.

This is the specific New Age doctrine being taught here: people will have to draw their temporary spiritual life from The Christ until the time comes when their individual consciousness will have been raised so much they will achieve their personal godhood, and live forever!

This concept is genuine New Age, is consistent with prophecy, and Rowling depicts it very well!

Christian parents, do you want your child to be taught this New Age doctrine? Can you see Harry Potter playing the Pied Piper and leading your children straight to the Mark of the Beast?

Pied Piper count: 1 (that’s not a lot so far, but it’s used in like every essay. It’ll come back)

I don’t know how to tackle this, because I’m not sure Cutting Edge really understands that Voldemort is the bad guy in these books. Children aren’t going to read this book and then go, “Cool! I’m gonna go stab a unicorn and drink its essence because my favorite role model You-Know-Who told me to!”

The unicorn blood thing is unilaterally portrayed as a pretty bad move. Voldemort’s goals in general are pretty obviously not great ideas. I know Cutting Edge doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight here, but Voldemort’s quest for immortality and how bad and wrong and fucked-up that is, is kind of one of the major through-lines of the entire story. It could be argued that it’s not Voldy’s desire to live forever that’s wrong so much as his whole, like, genocide thing, which is legit . . . except that all the methods to attain immortality involve killing someone, or stealing something, or otherwise being Not a Good Dude.

Voldemort is Not a Good Dude, and I don’t know how to communicate that any clearer than the books written for third graders already did.

Part 6: I don’t really know, I just wanted a chance to break this endless essay up and this seemed like a good place to do it. So let’s talk about spells some more

Many spells require both the taking of drugs and demonic possession, so it is a matter of gravest importance that Harry is actually going to learn to cast spells. When Chuck Colson dismisses the casting of spells as innocent and of no real importance, did he know this fact?

I seem to have missed the part where Harry goes off his ass on LSD and gets possessed by B’aal. Was that in the Silmarillion?

whenever a witch changes the physical characteristics of something, he or she is practicing very high-level witchcraft, has a high level of demonic possession, and has had to carry out human sacrifice themselves or have someone else do it for them.

“It’s fiction” is often a bullshit excuse to justify bad framing, but I feel like it applies here, because maybe in the “real” world spellcasting requires you to trip balls and summon demons, but it’s extremely obvious that it doesn’t work like that in Harry Potter! You can’t just say that’s what the books are teaching when the books aren’t actually teaching anything even close to that!

(I’m starting to feel like my emphasis italics are having a similar effect to Cutting Edge’s red bolded letters. Fuck if I’m gonna stop using them, though.)

If Harry and his pals were wearing goat heads and putting virgins into a giant blender or something I think you might have an argument here, but when the people reading your essay have eyes and can see that the things you’re describing aren’t anywhere in the books, you’re just lying. And it’s very obvious, and I still love you, Cutting Edge, but you’re being disingenuous and it’s starting to kill my joy-boner to constantly have to point out the ways you’re misunderstanding a children’s book, especially when I think you’re kinda doing it on purpose. So how about you chill just a little bit and we’ll all read some Harry Potter together.

Magical Drafts and Potions , by Arsenius Jigger. Some of the potions are very real, very deadly.

Wait, did Rowling publish this one, too? How do you know what’s in the book? Does the book list some real potions and how to make them, or is this another thing that’s only available in the Cutting Edge’s copy of the books?

Students were told they could also "bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad." [p. 67] These three creatures are important to an occultists. Satanists have always revered the cat because of its reputed "nine lives", which is a symbol of reincarnation. Cats are also symbols of a witch's familiar spirit.

They have revered the frog because his prominent bulging eyes represent the All-seeing nature of Lucifer. Frogs are also consistently used in many of the potions witches concoct. They revere owls as a symbol of occult wisdom and omniscience -- again because of their eyes.

So fuck cats, I guess. They’re being pretty unfair to owls and frogs too -- especially insulting their poor eyes. They can’t help it! -- but I’m a crazy cat lady and I’m not feeling this slander.

Actually . . . my cat looks pretty high right now. Maybe she is channeling Satan.

Okay, never mind. Fuck all these animals. They’re all evil. This article is entirely right, and I renounce all of my previous statements.

McGonagall has obviously mastered her Craft because she was the tabby cat seen by Uncle Vernon reading a map, back in chapter one. Remember that any time a witch or wizard practices transfiguration, they need expert spell-casting, and demonic possession. I bet no one ever told you that little fact, did they?

No, they didn’t, because it’s not even remotely relevant to the fictional book written for children.

Like, I’m trying very hard to not question anyone’s religious beliefs, so if you believe in the occult and magic and all that then more power to you, and maybe it’s totally valid to think that real-life magic spells requires demonic possession. That doesn’t make it true in the books, though! Stop making shit up!

Potions Class -- taught in one of the dungeons [p. 136] How disgusting must the atmosphere for this class, and others, taught in a dungeon, which was built to torture people to death?

If only the classroom, teacher, and overall environment for the Potions classes was meant to be as viscerally unpleasant as possible. Then putting them in the dungeons would be a really good idea, to reflect the Slytherins’ backwards beliefs and the misery of their intolerance.

Like, JKR isn’t this subtle. When you name one of your antagonists “Bad Dragon,” you’re not aiming for this subconscious-symbolism bullshit.

Part 7: Did you think this book had a good moral? Fuck you!

The fundamental occult/Communist philosophy

Well, I guess we’re talking about Communism now! Because if there’s anything Harry Potter is interested in above all else, it’s Communism.

My favorite things about these essays is how they will pull in other social ills -- abortion, public schools, communism -- and slap them into their argument regardless of if it makes any semblance of sense.

Anyway, Cutting Edge actually has a legitimate argument here, although they take it about 50 steps too far:

the "Ends Justify The Means" permeates this entire book. To achieve a goal deemed good, Harry and his friends consistently break rules, steal, and use Witchcraft against others.

It is true that Harry and his friends break the rules, lie, and otherwise do “bad” things in the service of an ultimate good, and that they suffer relatively few consequences for it. This is a legitimate point, and actual people who know things agree.

I’ve been struck speechless by this article before, but this is the first time it’s because I think they might have an actual point.

Hermione was very mildly punished [for her lie to the professors about why they were fighting the troll], but her lie cemented a friendship with Ron and Harry, leading a child to conclude that her lie served an excellent purpose, and could not be considered 'wrong'.

I mean . . . yeah? I don’t think it’s entirely reasonable to assume that children will take that lesson away, but I read it as a child and I certainly didn’t think Hermione was wrong to lie -- nor do I now, which I suppose proves just how powerful the Satanic conditioning was.

Professor Quirrell told Harry, "There is no good or evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it ." [p. 291] This is standard Witchcraft, and standard Illuminist doctrine. This doctrine is the guiding light to those Illuminists who are driving the world into the Kingdom of Antichrist. This doctrine is very seductive to those immature children trying to grow up in our current culture; since a child's inherent nature is evil, he will find such philosophy more appealing than the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Christian parents, beware!

Oh thank God Satan, we’re back to the bullshit. I was getting seriously weirded out by the idea that they had good points buried in here somewhere, but now we’re just faced with the argument that the bad guy says . . . bad things . . . and is defeated because his bad ideas are obviously bad and wrong . . . and this proves that the book is teaching children to believe the bad things?

No one reads these books and wants to be the bad guys, Cutting Edge. Kids aren’t buying Harry Potter wands and robes to pretend that they’re Quirrell, trying to keep people from finding out they have a Dark Lord on the back of their head. (Though now that I’ve mentioned it, that sounds like a very fun game.)

Depicting bad things in a way that makes it clear -- to children, I must reiterate -- that they’re bad isn’t the same thing as romanticizing or promoting those bad things. This is basic stuff, CE.

Revenge Motive : "Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More , by Vindictus Viridian." [p. 80] Throughout these books, seeking revenge and attacking your enemies is high on the priority list of Harry, his friends, and other students. Do you want your children to adopt this most Satanic attitude? Notice the first name of the author of this revenge book, above, is named "Vindictus, i.e., Vindictive".

Students are taught to depend upon Witchcraft for every part of their lives . All food is conjured up rather than prepared, all the dishes are conjured clean, and even the hospital depends upon Witchcraft to get students well [p. 156]. Neville Longbottom, one of the more clumsy students, received a crystal ball from his grandmother called a Remembrall . The ball glows scarlet if you have forgotten something you should have done. [p. 145]

That’s . . . fuck, that’s actually kind of another good point. Stop kinda making sense, goddamn it!

A lot of the criticism is just that the things wizards do are cool, which will make kids want to become witches/wizards in order to do those cool things, too. And to be fair, the stuff Harry et. al. does are cool, and I did want to be a witch when I grew up. Fortunately, I was in third grade, and so my options for witchcraft were relatively limited; by the time I was old enough to pursue the endeavor properly, I was also old enough to know that it was actually nothing like Harry Potter. If magic actually was anything like those books make it seem, we’d have a lot more witches running around, zapping shit.

Possible reference to homosexuality . When I was first researching Harry Potter, I examined several pro-Potter websites. The author of one of the articles said that one of the probable developments she felt would occur in the latter books was the advent of homosexuality in the story theme. She said such activity was only hinted at in the first books.

Oh dear god, Cutting Edge found the shippers. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

(I wonder if this means they’ve also read the Draco Trilogy.)

I do have to take issue with one last point in this bit about morals, where they talk about how scarring it might be to a child to see Voldemort possessing the back of Quirrell’s head:

Rowling could not have created a better description of demonic possession by a dark and powerful demon! Christian parent, is this the type of thing you want your child to bring into their minds?

Thing is, I’ve been in a lot of Christian circles for most of my life, and this sounds exactly like the kind of dark, traumatizing thing many religious parents would be happy to put into their children’s minds.

Part Almost Done: Definitely Intentional Satanic Symbols, Really

Hey, did you know the number 11 was occultist? I didn’t, and when I Googled it, 4 of the front-page results were Christian or conspiracy groups making this claim, 2 were unclear, and 3 actually seemed to indicate some level of belief in the power of the number 11. Though I might’ve stacked the deck with the word “occult”; when I changed my search term to “magic,” I found almost exclusively positive articles about the symbolic power of the number 11, so . . . Cutting Edge isn’t necessarily wrong.

But boy, did you know how many times the number 11 shows up in Sorcerer's Stone? Not very much, but if we stretch our credibility a little bit, we might see something spooky!

Harry was eleven (11) when he was admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The number eleven is considered sacred to the occultist, as it is the first primary number. Occultists will also add up numbers to get an occult number that is sacred; thus, I was highly interested when the bank vault maintained for Harry by his Mom and Dad before their death was numbered '713' [p. 73]. When you add '7 + 1 + 3 = 11'. Then, we learn that, in the money of the Fantasy Reality, "twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle". When you add 2 + 9 = 11.

When Harry found the wand that was meant for him, it turned out to be 11 inches long! [p. 84]

The Hogwarts Express Train left at 11 o'clock from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. [p. 91]

Oh man, that’s some convincing evidence. Evidence of what, I have no idea, but it uses math and I’m sure it’s very alarming!

" Sorcerer's Stone " is also called the "Philosopher's Stone", and is very, very Satanic! Rosicrucianism teaches that an Initiate will pass through five stages to become the highest Adept possible, to be most proficient in exercising the power of Satanism. They call this process the "Five Stages In The Transmutation of the Soul". The final stage is depicted by the Phoenix Bird; the Adept is then said to have achieved the "Sorcerer's Stone". Thus, the fact that the term, "Sorcerer's Stone" is in the title of this book suggests that the ultimate goal of all students at Hogwarts is to achieve the Sorcerer's Stone.

Wow, that sure is an interesting interpretation of the rock that shows up in the book for like 6 pages and then is immediately destroyed! Alternate theory, if you’re open to it: It’s a rock, named the Philosopher’s Stone because the Philosopher’s Stone is historically the name of a rock, called the philosopher's stone, and it's literally just a rock and doesn't mean anything Satanist because it's a fucking ROCK.

(Pictured: A rock)

There’s a really odd part right after the long discussion about how alchemy and unicorns and whatnot are Satanic Illuminati symbols, where CE just takes a moment to explain the game of Quidditch. No commentary beyond a sassy little “[Even the Quidditch balls are 'enchanted'].” Just . . . sort of letting you know how the game is played.

To be fair, this is quite a valuable service, since I don’t think anyone actually understands how Quidditch works, but I’m not sure what it’s doing sandwiched between two declarations of Harry Potter’s obvious evil.

PART THE LAST THANK GOD: WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A SUBTITLE IT’S ALMOST OVER

The first few paragraphs are standard boilerplate conclusion stuff, reiterating the rest of the story, continued misunderstanding that bad things are done by the bad guys, no there really are drugs and Illuminati propaganda in here I promise, yadda yadda. Nothing noteworthy except for the fact that I found this sentence absolutely hilarious:

But, most horribly, we see depictions of Satanism that are truly End of the Age. We see the symbol of Antichrist, the Unicorn.

And so I leave you with this one final thought, because it’s all I can fit into the saggy mush that was once my brain:

From Genesis through Revelation, God demands His people separate themselves from the evil around them! SEPARATE! SEPARATE! SEPARATE!

S E P A R A T E

#harry potter #hp #rowling #jkr #this doesn't really count as fandom history does it?#i did discover this amazing site through f_w #tagging this as Christianity would be mean i think #but i'm ignoring the wank mostly and sticking to the FACTS #'facts' like 'harry potter's eyes are the color of satan'#WAKE UP SHEEPLE #this is the world's longest post and i'm not sure it's interesting to anyone except me #i got very tired at the end of this can you tell #i refuse to even consider editing this #you will take my thoughts as i have them #if the 'read more' doesn't show up IT IS NOT MY FAULT I FUCKING PUT IT THERE I SWEAR IT #quotes aren't showing up on mobile #can't do red text or fun fonts on desktop #this post is a goddamn disaster and it's what both i and this essay deserve

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