#heard this at a commencement speech today

[agentnatesewell]

don’t suffer from permanent potential

[luminnara]

Gladiator | Feyd Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: Feyd-Rautha fights in the arena, hoping to win your favor and maybe even your hand.

Warnings: violence

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Feyd-Rautha didn’t know why your face was the only one he seemed able to pick out of the crowd. Out of all the eligible daughters the Houses had thrown at him, you were the one he couldn’t get out of his head. Deep down, he knew he should consider himself lucky for the privilege to have a say in his marriage, but most of the heiresses he had encountered did little to interest him and he had grown more than bored of the whole ordeal.

Until he was presented with you.

He had known little of your family, and he hadn’t cared to learn more. You had been from far away, and your culture was probably far different from his own. Perhaps it was arrogance that had fueled his initial disinterest, his ego rearing its ugly head. He had seen you and assumed you were boring and prudish, based on your style of clothing, and had initially been beyond irritated when you were offered up before him. He had cursed his uncle the Baron, and nearly killed the nearest servant. He had wanted nothing more than to be as far away from you as possible, exhausted and annoyed after a week of meeting princess after princess, all of whom he had rejected.

Why, then, had he become intrigued by you? Had it been the way you looked at him with such boredom, as if he had nothing to offer you? Had it been the information that he was simply one in a long list of suitors you were slogging through, much in the way he had been for what felt like an age? Or had it been the sudden revelation that you had more in common with him than he had thought possible, and the sudden knowledge that if he wished to catch your eye, tradition dictated he must show you a spectacular fight and defeat every other man whose goal was your hand in marriage?

“It is the way of her people,” Rabban had shrugged, oblivious to the way Feyd’s world was slowly being turned on its head. “I have heard that they were fighting long before House Harkonnen built our first arena.”

Now, Feyd-Rautha was stalking back and forth through the sand, thinking of all the ways he could slaughter his competition. He was one of ten, ten suitors, none of whom were drugged or weak from starvation the way his quarry on Giedi Prime always was. As he glared at the opponents around him, he knew that you were watching from the stands, in a luxurious box with your parents and ladies in waiting, and when a glance in your direction confirmed his suspicions, he was overcome with the desire to kill for you.

He had never felt that before. He was plenty familiar with the urge to maim, to slice and tear, to take lives—but he had never wanted to do it for another person. His darlings, in a sense, garnered that from him when he killed servants to feed them…but this was different. That was a life taken as a gift and a means to spoil them. This was a fight to the death, a way to prove himself to you…and for some strange reason, he wanted—no, needed—to succeed.

“Today we gather in the ancestral arena of our great House to honor a tradition which we have kept alive for one thousand generations!” A voice boomed. “Today, the Great Houses send their sons to fight for the hand of my daughter, and should they be so lucky, one will win her favor!”

Feyd-Rautha glanced at his nearest competitor, a round-faced man who was far too old to be marrying you. He knew the man thought he was safe; they had all received a speech on the importance of not actually killing each other, but Feyd had had no interest in listening nor adhering to the rules. If he was to truly win your hand, he knew he must make a grisly spectacle of himself. He had gone so far as to fight shirtless, so as to show you his smooth, unscarred skin, and display his enemies’ blood upon his flesh.

“Now, warriors…do battle!”

You watched from above as the fight commenced.

“I like the looks of that Halleck boy,” your mother commented as she peered through her positively ancient opera glasses.

Your eyes found the one she spoke of and you sighed. “He favors his right leg. He will not last.”

Your father plopped down in the throne next to you, a hearty laugh booking from his chest. “That’s my girl. Ever the strategist, with the sharpest eye in the known universe. Tell us, then, who do you predict will win? We can make a bet on it.”

“I hardly think gambling is appropriate on today of all days.” Your mother shot him a glare.

He only laughed louder.

“I like the Harkonnen.” You said, watching as Feyd-Rautha drove a blade into another man’s shoulder.

Your mother made a tutting noise. “He is…”

“Bloodthirsty,” your father offered.

“Yes,” you said, somewhat transfixed. “He is.”

Your eyes followed Feyd-Rautha’s every move, glued to his form as he lithely parried and dodged his opponents’ attacks. He was a surprisingly welcome sight after the many suitors you’d turned your nose up at, and while he had initially bored you just as the rest had, there was something in his demeanor that had piqued your interest.

Upon meeting, you had both been irritated and more than ready to stay unmarried forever. You had heard that Feyd-Rautha had also been meeting potential suitors, and if the rumor mill was correct, he had nearly killed more than one of them. When you had first laid eyes upon the pale, hairless Harkonnen heir, you had immediately decided that you might give this one a chance; many of the others you had met had seemed ill suited, abhorred by the concept of fighting for your hand in an archaic ritual. Feyd-Rautha, however, had changed when he had heard, shifting from disinterested to focused, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of a duel.

Now, he was stalking through the sand below you, wielding wickedly sharp hunting knives as he attacked a competitor from behind. He wasn’t above fighting dirty, you noted, his blackened teeth bared as he head butted another man. Only six remained including him, the other four having given up or lying unconscious at the feet of their opponents.

“He’s going to kill someone!” Your father exclaimed, his voice gleeful.

“And what a diplomatic nightmare that will be,” your mother mumbled.

You weren’t sure if Feyd-Rautha had truly taken any lives so far that afternoon, but as he drove a knife into the gut of another fighter, you surmised that your mother may be spending the rest of her day smoothing things over with and paying off the families of some of these men.

You watched, smiling to yourself as they all fell, one by one, into groaning, bloodied heaps in the sand, until only one remained on his feet. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the victor, as you had hoped he’d be, and as the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers, you stood.

Your parents watched you carefully.

“Are you certain?” Your mother asked.

“Do you have any objections?” You countered.

“…none whatsoever.”

You turned to your father. “And you, Father?”

He shrugged, leaning his chin on his hand. “I quite like the boy. He will make for an interesting match.”

“Then it is settled,” you sucked in a breath, steeling yourself before turning and walking to the stairs.

In the arena, Feyd-Rautha was drinking in the sounds of an entertained crowd. He could put on a show anywhere, it seemed, and if he had been at all concerned by leaving Giedi Prime to fight on your planet, they were long forgotten. His blood was still boiling, chest heaving as attendants began collecting his fallen foes, of whom more than a few sported serious, possibly life threatening injuries. And after he had struck each one down, he had glanced up to find you there, watching him.

The crowd hushed suddenly, and Feyd-Rautha saw that it was because you were approaching him, stepping over your battered suitors without so much as a glance down at them. Your eyes remained focused on him, never leaving, boring into his form as he straightened up and faced you.

“Feyd-Rautha,” you greeted him.

“Princess.”

“You fought well.”

“Thank you.”

You smirked at him. “You hope to gain my favor, do you not?”

“I had hoped for your token, yes,” he admitted, watching you with those dark, intelligent eyes.

“A token, or my hand?” You asked.

“I will take whatever you see fit to bless me with, princess.”

With a sly smile, you closed the gap between you, pressing a hand to his chest. He felt warmth there, and when you pulled away, the roar of the crowd returned and he looked down to see a crimson handprint on his skin.

“Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you said, your voice cutting below the cheering of your people in the stands above. “We are now engaged.”

With that simple statement, you turned on your heel and left.

It was foolish to turn one’s back to a Harkonnen, especially Feyd-Rautha, but you both knew he would never do anything to you. Not now. Not when his eyes refused to leave your retreating form. Not when his heart thudded in his chest excitedly. Not when he knew he suddenly had a wife, one for whom he would kill anything and anyone.

[togrowoldinv]

Valedictorian

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Your daughter is the valedictorian of her class and the whole team and family watches her graduate

Note: I got this idea from going to so many graduations lately and of course I headcanon Nat and y/n’s kids as valedictorian level smart lol. Enjoy this fluff!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

“Natasha?” You try your best to get her attention. She’s staring off into space as she sits next you.

Her leg shakes with nervousness. You put a soft hand on her thigh.

“She’s going to do so great, my love,” you tell her.

Finally, she acknowledges you. It’s just with the slip of her hand in yours but it’s enough to know she’s okay.

You direct your attention back to the stage where the principal calls for the valedictorian to give the commencement speech. Your daughter stands up from her seat and walks to the stage.

There are hoops and hollers from your section, especially from the Avengers.

Ali starts out speaking somewhat quietly, but she gains her confidence quickly. Especially when she sees all the smiling faces of her family. She gives the usual thanks to her classmates and teachers. Her speech is so eloquently written that no matter what she’s saying tears are in your eyes.

“Here comes the part she didn’t show us,” Nat says barely above a whisper. Ali wanted to surprise you both with an extra part to her speech. You listen carefully as she speaks.

“Lastly, I’d like to thank my moms. I love you both as my little sister would say like the moon,” she says with a laugh. “There’s no way I would be here today without you.” She speaks about you first, sharing anecdotes of all the times you made her do her homework or drove her to basketball practice. And how she loves having your eyes and your soft heart. Tears run down your face.

“And a lot of you probably know my mama as the Black Widow,” Ali says. “But I know her as the most beautiful, loving woman in the world. A person who, as she’s done before, would run into a fight to save someone she’s never even met. A person who has put her whole heart into raising me alongside the love of her life.”

You hold Natasha’s hand and she squeezes it so tightly.

Ali continues, “Me and my siblings know that the Black Widow is a superhero, but to us she’s a hero named Mama. And she’s my hero because of the courage she shows everyday. The courage to love and to be loved. That’s something I wanted to share with you all. May we all have the courage to love and be loved as life takes us on this new path. Thank you.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and she even gets a standing ovation from her classmates and the crowd.

“She did great,” Steve comments from behind you.

“That’s our girl,” Natasha says, beaming with pride. The nervousness has been shaken off and she’s nothing but proud.

Ali walks back to her seat and your whole section waves at her. She waves back subtly.

The rest of the ceremony goes by quickly and Ali definitely has the loudest cheers when her name is called, partially due to Tony breaking the no air horns rule.

When you meet up with her afterwards, you both pull her into a hug.

“We’re so proud of you!” You say with her in your embrace.

“Thanks Mom,” she says. “How was the speech?”

“The best speech I’ve ever heard,” you answer.

“Did you cry?” She asks, a mischievous grin on her face.

Natasha finally cuts in, “I cried like a baby.”

You all share a chuckle and all the other kids join you. Ali hugs each one and you love watching them being so proud of their big sister.

Steve, Sam, Tony, Peter, and Pepper all hug her as well. Wanda is trudging behind with her boys, but she also hugs Ali so tight when she sees her.

“Gang is almost all here,” Natasha says. She turns to Ali. “You’re popular.”

“Can’t help that I’m the best,” the girl shrugs. “Did you hear from Aunt Yelena?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, baby. She’s still out on a mission,” Natasha answers.

“Is she?” You ask.

“What does that mean?” Nat asks you.

You smile and seemingly out of thin air Yelena appears next to Ali.

“So, what exactly is a valedictorian?” Yelena asks.

“Aunt Yelena!” The girl shouts and hugs her immediately. “How are you here?”

“Your mom,” Yelena gives her classic simple response.

“I made some calls,” you further explain.

“Thank you,” Natasha leans into you and says. You know she missed her sister too.

Yelena and Ali have gotten so close lately that you knew they would want to be able to celebrate this together. It wasn’t easy but you made it happen.

“I love you,” you tell Nat. You drop a kiss to her cheek and then gather everyone for photos.

The day is spent celebrating your daughter and being together as a family. It’s the perfect beginning of a new chapter and you know she’ll do great things.

[orangebl0ssoms]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - nonidol!p1h x ocs

wc: 23k

cw: cursing, violence, etc.

synopsis: after the news of an invasion breaks out, Karina and Freya are sent to wreak havoc upon Plus+World, and it’s people. The two end up at the hands of the very creators who started it all.

♫: shadows - pastel ghost

( ☆ )

"BREAKING NEWS! UNEXPECTED WORMHOLES APPEAR TO BE POPPING UP ALL OVER THE CITY OF SEOUL."

The eyes of Choi Taeyang had cowered over the small T.V posted ahead of him. The man had desperately tried getting some source of a nap while the other members worked around him, that was just until his attention averted to the live broadcast.

Leaning off the leather cladded couch, he tilted his head as bright red words stretched across the television screen.

"The hell is this?" Theo muttered.

The two boys sitting on the floor stared up at him, pausing in the middle of their game. "What's up?" Intak spoke, raising a brow. Theo nodded his head up towards the T.V, Jongseob's eyes flickered to the newscaster, he placed the small Nintendo he had onto the cold wood floor. A smaller picture of the 6 men popped up on screen, the picture from many years ago when the 'almighty' P1harmony was out and saving the world.

They were what everyone called, "The world's heroes" much to their demise, but it was true. It's been 4 years since peace had settled around + world, and it had not been a good look for the boys since. After curing the virus that set the world a storm, left a huge impact on not only their city, but their heroes.

As of now, the boys have been hiding from the press. Mostly for their people's safety, because they knew that someday Alcor would come back. Possibly even worse. Due to their disappearance, they had been forgotten to the outside world. Castawayed from the media leaving them as appalled they were by the very words leaving the reporters mouth on from the news.

"Widespread panic is being reported around areas that reach beyond Daejeon." The scarlet haired male, second eldest, Keeho stood up from his chair as well as Soul who fixed his chain. The two moved to face the screen that showed live footage of the "wormholes" that were growing in size. The newscaster stopped his speech when one of the camera men moved into frame, discreetly whispering something into the man's ear. Shock unraveled on his face, his wrinkles deeper, as his eyes fixated on the screen when the male walked off. "It appears that these wormholes are portals...to another world?”

"There have been no reports on what these could contain, or what's among the 'world' inside." The next few words that left the man's mouth left the boys in disbelief.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but, where are our + heroes when you need them? P1harmony, save us all." The T.V cut off, screen turning black, reflecting the looks of utter disbelief upon all the boys faces.

"What the fu-”

(flashback)

“Today’s the day.”

Were the last words Karina heard fly out of Heloca’s mouth before she had drifted off into space. To be fair, the girl had been running on 1 hour of sleep, the lecture her group was being given was the least of her worries at the moment. Heloca noticed this while giving the speech, and Karina could tell by the small glares her teacher threw at her. The only thing keeping her awake from her lack of sleep were the bright white lights that beamed down from the corridor onto the room the small assembly was being held, but it didn’t stop her from wobbling back and forth on the heels of her feet. Heloca had announced across headquarters a new mission that was to commence. It’s a very important one considering most of the higher ups are involved. Karina would’ve cared a lot more if it weren’t to invade another reality, and it was all finally catching up to the girl. It was clear the woman needed a rest, especially to the people next to her watching her figure tilt and sway as if she were refraining herself from toppling back into them.

The small tug from the back of her top was enough to pull her from her delirious state. Her body visibly flinching by the unexpected pull, her head turned to the voice that whispered in her ear, “Pull it together, K.” Her friend, Zeko stated firmly. He threw her a raise of his brow as Karina shook her head, “Sorry. Just tired.” Her eyes peered ahead out of the window of the building they stood in. She watched as the groups of kids outside played along the sidewalks, using the specialized bright neon tech to help them run about. “Are you sure that’s the only thing?” A small huff left her lips as she turned to stare into her friend’s bright blue irises, “Listen to your senior.” She used her two index fingers to nudge his jaw back forward to look back at their leader who was speaking. He couldn’t resist the small grin that formed on his lips from the contact, but did as told.

Zeko and Karina have been colleges for a couple of years. The first time she figured out her abilities, Heloca introduced Zeko as Karina’s new trainer. Ever since then, the two have been close. He could read her like a book, her knew there was something else that was going on in her head, but she’d never share. Karina’s always been very imaginative, always wanted to see overlook what was beyond her world. The only thing that stopped her was her superior. Heloca practically raised Karina, so she never was able to experience having many friends or even romances, which she’d rarely consider. She’s always been Heloca’s apprentice, as much as she despised it.

The girl’s red and blue irises stared into a deep abyss, so deep that she didn’t notice Heloca’s icy glare digging into her forehead at the moment.

“Karina.”

Her eyes snapped over to Heloca who stared her down. “Focus.” She gave her a firm nod before swiftly fixing her posture in understanding. Heloca continued, “We find the team, destroy Plus+World, take them. A simple extraction.” Karina would’ve scoffed, but she couldn’t let herself be shunned upon by her peers. From her perspective, she knew this invasion would be just be the start of a war. Especially when this another universe they’d be invading. It was ‘justice being served’ to Heloca’s beliefs, though all it was to Karina was more redundant destruction and chaos. But she grew up being one of the ones to provoke it, and it scared her. But what scared her even further was to go against her own people. She knew better. She knew the consequences she’d endure by just one step onto the enemies ground would lead to her own downfall, and many others. So she kept her mouth shut, her cold fingers fiddled together in front of her abdomen, showcasing her ‘subtle’ nervousness.

Heloca’s words knocked her back into her senses at once. “The mission starts now.”

Wait what?

Everything happened so fast the girl couldn’t even process everyone starting to leave around her. Karina turned around to ask Zeko but was met with an empty space, her eyes threatened to roll once she heard the voice of Heloca call her. Karina turned to see the older lady motion for her to walk over. As she did, Heloca stared her figure up and down looking slightly concerned. “Is everything alright, Rina? You’re out of it today.”

“So I’ve been told.” Karina threw her a raise of her brow, running her hands through her black and pink locs, to settle them. “Well, I need you today. So maybe try not to fall asleep on the day of you’re job.” Heloca gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder before walking to the door where everyone already exited from. “No promises.” Karina joked, Heloca knew she’d keep her word. With that, the lady nodded satisfied, giving Karina one last glance before leaving through the two doors.

Once by herself, she finally let her head fall back onto her shoulders that drooped after the door shut, a resounding sigh leaving her mouth, “I’m totally gonna fall asleep.” She whined to herself, sulking.

( ☆ )

The alert on Freya’s tech bracelet went off, the bright white light and loud beeping sound made her finch violently. In return, almost dropping the bowl of cereal she held tightly in her palms. Even her own reflexes didn’t help the small bits of cereal and milk that spilled from her bowl onto the white tiles of her hideout. “Jesus!” She almost cursed, she grumbled loudly to herself as she sat her bowl down to clean the mess she accidentally created. “The hell is going on now?” She muttered, shaking her head. Looking up from the floor and at the bright green numbers rolling across the screen of her bracelet.

Freya knew this code all too familiarly, her last run ins with the higher ups almost never went as planned considering how ‘well’ she does with authority, but she worked well with them. A small smirk etched it’s way onto Freya’s lips as she stood up to set her bowl down on the coffee table.

‘Oh, i’m going…’ She thought to herself. This would be Freya’s one way trip out of what she called her own personal ‘hell’, except for the fact that she was one of the first convicted felons of her world. After having her privileges of being a higher up stripped, she went off on her own. Eventually she found hideout and has lived in a secret place since, but Freya never intended to turn to a life of crime. Until one argument with a police officer that led her to believe that all police officers are stuck up and impossible all around. Freya being herself, couldn’t help but miss the opportunity.

( ☆ )

“It’s a get in, and get out.” The team hastly followed Heloca who brought them towards the one of many ‘portals’ that had formed as gateway’s into Plus+World. “These portals close quick, so make sure everyone stays together.” Karina stared from the other side of the portal into the sky, a beautiful orange and pink hue of Plus+World meshing well together, the air blowing through her locs was crisp and held a sense of ‘peace.’ A bittersweet aspect Karina would never forget. However, the feeling made something in her gut clench tighter than before.

Her eyes shut momentarily, feeling the arms of her peers nudge against her own one by one to jump through the portal. Zeko moved forward and leant her a hand, she watched as a small smile made its way to his face. The thought of Zeko possibly enjoying this malicious act kept replaying in her head. “Let’s go, K.” He urged, reluctantly-so she slipped her hand into his, giving one look back at their leader before jumping in with him.

On the other hand, Freya hastly grabbed her jacket off the kitchen counter along with her keys. “Bye, pinky!” She yelled to the small cage that held her pet lizard. Freya slid the piece of scrap metal that acted as a door open, crouching to leave through the small space. Knocking some boxes out of her way to get to the bright purple bike that had been hidden away from the general public.

Freya hopped on her motorcycle placing her matching helmet over her head, starting the engine and driving off as quick as she could. The air flew through her blue locs, the vehicle swerved and zoomed quickly through the streets, gaining looks from many passing civilians as she made her way to the nearest gateway.

The moment Karina and Zeko dropped down is when all hell broke loose. She watched around her as her own accomplices terrorized the civilians of Plus+World with tech grenades and blasters, people fled the streets trying to drive themselves away from the scene of buildings being blown up and being shot at. Karina swallowed down the guilt and immediately snapped into action, knowing this will end quicker with her help. “Split up.” Karina ordered, getting her gadgets ready. Zeko nods and runs off on his own as Karina walked down the streets, a luminescent pink glow swirled up her arms creating her own specialized tech. The bright hue shined off the sides of the buildings she walked between them, tracking down any sort of evidence to bring her towards her destination.

A speechless Freya walked through the same street as well, watching chaos unleash all around her. She huffed out a curse once she met eyes with one of the men from alcor. While trying to back up and get away before the man could call his comrades over to get the girl, Freya caught herself from tripping over two small boys behind her, they both had tears running down their faces with distressed looks upon them. “Our brother!” The twins screamed pointing back at one of the alcor drones, ready to shoot at a smaller boy, a baby boy to be exact. Freya reacted quickly by nudging the two behind her and generating a blue tech gun at the palm of her hand. One blast at the drone had it crumbling to pieces.

Freya ran up to the boy, placing her hands under him to pick him up and ran back to the brothers. “Follow me!” She ushered, leading the three away from the scene quickly as possible. She brought them to a small nearby alleyway, though she was saving their lives it felt as if she didn’t know where to go from there. Whether to leave them or bring them with her. She placed the youngest onto his feet next to his siblings.

“Where’s your mom?” Freya asked gently, placing a hand on both their shoulders. The question made the youngest’s mouth waver and the tears began to fall, Freya’s heart felt like it fell to her stomach, just watching the sadness paint their faces made her feel guilty at the thought. “Alright, okay…” Freya gulped down the panic that eased its way up her throat, feeling as if her work just now was useless. Until she remembered seeing a small shop nearby the first time she stepped foot into the world. Freya leant down towards the three kids and pointed across the street to the small coffee shop that hadn’t been touched, one of many stores that weren’t demolished just yet.

“You guys see that store over there?” She mentioned, they all looked to where she pointed and nodded. “It’s safe over there, but we have to get over the street, can you do that?” Nothing but care and desperation flooded her features, one of the brothers studied her. The bright purple eyes and blue hair were prominent features that they all took notice of. So before the other two of his siblings could grab her hand to go with her, he stopped them by one question that had been lingering in his mind for far too long now. “Uh, ma’am?” His small voice wavered. Freya’s brows knitted together slightly, watching his fingers fiddle with each other.

“Are you one of them?” He asked, his wondering eyes finally met her eyes. It grew silent for a moment, until Freya answered simply. “No. I’m just someone here to help, alright?” She gave the boy a reassuring pat on the head, before getting off her knee. Freya picked up the youngest and leaned down to let another one get on her back, “Hop on.” She motioned, in which the child did as told. The last brother pulled his hand into hers. The four ran across the street, narrowly missing the flying debris heading for them.

Upon safely arriving, Freya immediately went to open the door, but it was locked. She peered inside to see a middle aged woman standing behind the register counter, frozen and staring back at the 4 in fear. Freya used both her fists to bang on the glass doors, “Ma’am, let us in please!” She yelled behind the glass, but the woman stood in place, unmoving. Too terrified to even open the door for the kids. Freya only lost patience, letting out an defeated sigh, especially when the boy at her feet tugged at her hand to get her attention. “Ma’am!” Freya glanced back to where he pointed at the quartet of drones starting to fly at them. Freya started to frantically bang on the doors, almost cracking them the harder and faster she did it. “I have kids out here, please!”

By the desperate pleas of the girl, the woman mustered up some courage to finally run to the door and unlock it. Freya placed the kids down and ushered them inside with the woman. Freya swiftly grabbed the door and slammed it shut, not before yelling a quick, ‘thank you’. The children and lady watched from inside the store, seeing Freya blast all the drones down with her gun and run off.

Karina found her self stuck in the middle of an alleyway by the directions of her bracelet. They glitched and sputtered across the bright screen of her band. With a sigh, she walked down the dark secluded path, the area dark and quiet amongst the chaos that was happening a couple blocks down from her. The spray painted bold pink and black letters caught her attention while passing by. The words, ‘UTOPIA’ splattered across the wood of bricks. Karina raised a brow taking note.

So this is where they are…

Karina led herself around the building to check for any sign of an entrance. The moment she turned a corner the person she bumped into almost had her off her feet and onto the ground due to the impact. Well, both of them.

“Watch where you’re going, damn.”

Karina felt her limbs tense upon recognizing the voice that shouted at her. A small groan fell apart from her lips upon being met with bright purple eyes. Ones that belonged to her younger counterpart.

Freya

The moment Freya realized who it was she immediately leaped up from the ground and without thinking, throwing herself into Karina’s arms out of relief. “Oh my god! I’m glad it’s you-”

“Get off of me.” Karina’s stern tone cut her off mid sentence. By her body language and bluntness, Freya frowned and pull away almost immediately, clearly offended. “Well ‘hello’ to you too, Karina.”

“Why are you here?” Karina clicked her tongue, impatiently. Freya tilted her head, baffled. “I should be asking you the same thing. What the hell is going on here, Karina?” Karina sighed, “Heloca’s plan. Mission 3008, remember?” Freya stared at the girl and glanced down as if recollecting all the memories starting to flood back to her. “So…this is Plus+World?” Karina hummed staring up at the tall building in front of the two. “I think this may be there hideout? i’m not sure yet.” Freya shook her head lightly, “I didn’t think the invasion would be this bad.” Her voice grim, as her eyes followed around the corner to watch the drone shoot down another civilian. Karina tried not to think to much into it, Freya took notice of how quiet it grew between them. Neither of which knowing what to say to one another. “You don’t have to do this, you know-”

“We’re not having this conversation, Freya. I can’t betray my people. Not like how you did.” Karina turned her back from her ex-companion, as if telling her to ‘go away’. That only made freya follow after her, in need of defending herself. “I did that so I wouldn’t turn out miserable trying to end innocent lives for a leader who doesn’t give a shit about us-” Freya’s rant was cut off by a gunshot sounding off in her direction. The girl yelped loudly, feeling a burning sensation of a bullet grazing the side of her arm. Freya held her arm to stop blood from gushing out of her fresh opened wound, both her and Karina whipped their heads around to see where the shot had came from. “Heloca?” Freya sputtered.

The sing-song like tone of a whistle from above diverted their attention where they saw a raven haired male, sitting on the ledge of the roof, holding a rifle in his arms with a small menacing smirk. His legs swung back and forth mockingly as if to taunt them.

Theo.

“Yeah, that’s definitely not Heloca.” Karina muttered, raising her gadget up slowly. Before they could even take out their tech, he rained fire at them with countless bullets as they hoth ran in attempt to hide. Freya turned and shot back with a solid blast from her gun, the force making Theo jolt back before it hit his body. He ducked away by her second and third attempts. Karina crouched, she snuck herself away to move behind the building only to find a door. The door was boarded up, but Karina cared less. Her tech fists smashing through the planks of wood, with ease. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, she walked in looking from side to side in the place she entered.

The bell to the door of the workshop dinged when it popped open. Karina walked around the shop observingly. The T.V on and playing the news in the background, weapons and equipment discarded as if they knew she were there. Karina sensed someone creeping up behind her shoulder. When she turned around a fist went to collide with her face, but missed once Karina moved to the side to see a dude with short black hair and a red jacket holding up his fists, as if to taunt her. A flash of blond hair had caught the corner of her eye, Karina swiftly ducked when a blast flew past her head from behind.

Intak and Jongseob

Freya looked all around for where the sharp shooter had hid on the roof, from the angle she was looking at it was harder for her to catch a glimpse of where he had gone. “Coward!” She yelled up at the rooftop with a small grin.

That grin was slowly melted off her tense features once she felt the gun she held, contract onto her arm. Freya’s hand shot down to hold her arm, she grimaced feeling the tightness become slower and more painful to bare, it felt like a clenching sensation shooting through the inside of her arm, as if the circulation to her blood got cut off. The glowing blue power wrapped in on her own skin further made her start to believe her own technology was failing on her. A whistle from the end of the alley made her head shoot up to see who it was. It was another guy, she assumed was part of their team. The tye-dyed hair gave it away.

Soul

He saluted her with a goofy-smirk watching her scowl deepen. That grin etched off his lips as he saw her rip the tech off with little to no effort, now proceeding to saunter towards him. “Over here!” Another voice shouted. This time in english, from the opposite end of the block. Freya whipped her head back to be met with the sight of taller male, this one had burgandy colored hair and wore bright and condescending smirk.

Keeho

Before she could blink, he was gone in a ‘zap!’ and so was Soul. Freya groaned aloud at their tantics, “Men are so goddamn annoying.” She huffed, following after the two.

Karina had the two men she were previously fighting, hiding behind a small couch that was half burnt in half and smoking. Karina could hear the two fumbling with something behind the couch, but she made no moves to stop them. She wore an amused expression, and cleared her throat to stop their conversation. “Are we done here?” They both loomed over the couch, watching as the pink haired woman created the same set of pink armor that dissipated from her arms before.

Both Intak and Jongseob gave one another a look, before staring up at her figure. “Yes.” They both nodded, taking glanced from behind her. Karina nodded with a small raise of a brow and moved to grab one of them. A strong force binded back both her arms, as if a magnetic clamped her forearms to one another and squeezed. A small gasp left her throat at how fast she was put into a headlock from the man behind her, Keeho. Soul walked in front of Karina who struggled in the other male arms just as Freya made her way into the complex. She raised her gun and pointed it towards the man who held Karina about to pull the trigger. But before the moment all hell could break loose, a telekinetic force compelled everyone in place. Rendering them each frozen and unmoving. At that moment, a slender male with ginger hair walked in, holding a hand up with a blue aura clouded around it. The last and final member.

Jiung.

“Who the hell are you guys?”

( ☆ )

a/n: that was the first chapter, i hope y’all like <33

[mrs-sharp]

The eyes of Graphorns

-> This way to part 1 + 2

Aesop Sharp x mc

Summary: Aesop Sharp indulges in thoughts of times long past when suddenly his former student appears at Hogwarts, who has been gone for seven years and has been the reason for his reminiscent mood lately.

Chapter 3 - A Reunion

- Seven years later -

Sharp arrived just in time for the induction ceremony for the new first-year students, quickly taking his seat at the long teacher's table in the grand hall. His injury had been particularly troublesome today, almost causing him to be late. Normally, he wouldn't have cared whether he was there or not, but he lacked the patience to deal with the questions from the headmaster that would come with his absence. So, he reluctantly dragged himself up to the great hall. He lowered his gaze to avoid the sympathetic faces of his colleagues.

Black began his introductory speech, welcoming the new first-year students and commencing the house distribution ceremony: "The Sorting Hat will now determine which of the four houses you belong to..."

Perhaps there was a promising student among the newcomers this year. In the past few years, there had been students who achieved good grades and were clever, but none of them had been truly exceptional. Most of them were only skilled in the safety of the classroom, but without their books or even for a duel, they seemed ill-suited.

"...I must inform you before the start of the school year that..."

Sharp's thoughts drifted out of the grand hall into the past. It had been a long time since someone had truly impressed him. In recent years, he had found himself dwelling on memories of a particular student. Over time, he realized that he had admired her, even though he hadn't been aware of it when she was still at Hogwarts.

"... furthermore, there are the following changes to the faculty..."

She had said she wanted to go traveling and then simply disappeared. Secretly, he had hoped to hear from her again, but what reason would she have had to contact him? Sometimes he had even tried to find out if his colleagues knew anything about her whereabouts, but no one had heard from her. Of course, he could have conducted further investigations by using old contacts, but what reason would he have had to do so other than a vague sense of nostalgia?

"... for health reasons, Professor Hecat has decided to teach the subject of Magical Theory until further notice..."

Why was he still bothering his head about her whereabouts? Perhaps it was because they had shared the same feeling of loss for a short time. Perhaps the pain they shared had felt like some kind of connection?

"... as her successor in the Defense Against the Dark Arts subject, please welcome Professor Elaine Hopkins, who has previously served as an Auror..."

Sharp abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and almost said something out of surprise. Instead, for the first time that evening, he looked around the faculty, and there she sat, diagonally across from him at one of the semicircular arranged teacher's tables. Elaine Hopkins. She stood up briefly to introduce herself to the student body. Dinah Hecat sat beside her, smiling knowingly at him; she had surely noticed his excitement. Probably she hadn't told him about her successor on purpose, just to see how he would react that evening. Her cunningness could drive him to madness, but he had to admit one thing: he had the impression that she always knew him a little better than he knew himself.

As the great hall gradually emptied after the feast, Sharp wanted to seize the opportunity and speak with Elaine. Garlick and Ronen stood with her to greet her. When his colleagues finally left her alone, he slowly approached her.

Elaine had already noticed him when he entered the great hall. Although she had tried to avoid his gaze, her attention had repeatedly slipped back to the tall, broody man. Sharp approached his former student and shuddered. If he hadn't known it was her, he wouldn't have recognized her at first. For reasons Sharp couldn't explain, Elaine didn't look directly at him. He examined her. She was thinner than he remembered, and deep scars ran from her forehead diagonally across her face to her ear. Her hair was shorter, and there were already some grey strands. She wore fingerless gloves, a long, dark coat, and underneath, a set of black protective clothing with silver buckles, as used in handling magical creatures. What troubled him the most were her eyes: they had lost their strength and looked tired. He knew that look, the despair in it.

"I didn't expect to encounter you here, Professor," Sharp interrupted the silence. As he spoke the words, he realized how much he had unconsciously hoped for a reunion in the past years and how much he had refused to admit that he missed how Elaine Hopkins embodied the best qualities of all houses through her sharpness and determination, her helpfulness and courage. However, he didn't tell her any of that.

"I... I wanted to write to you," her voice was hoarse, and the passion that once had filled it was gone.

Sharp was concerned.

"I mean... after everything you did for me. But... I was scared," she admitted.

The last sentence sent a shiver through his body. After what had happened on her last day at school, he had hoped that he was someone to her she could trust – despite his past – but he must have been mistaken.

"I've made many mistakes in the past few years, mistakes I'm not proud of," she continued, "and I didn't want to disappoint you. Actually, I hadn't planned to return to Hogwarts, but then I happened to meet Professor Hecat this summer..."

Aesop Sharp looked down. She was afraid of him, afraid of disappointing him. It saddened him that this was the impression he had left on her. He was aware that he could appear intimidating, a remnant of the authority necessary for his former profession. He also knew that he was demanding in his expectations of his students' performances, but it wasn't his intention to intimidate them.

He swallowed before quietly admitting, "I had hoped for a sign of life from you. After what happened during your school years, I thought... well... So, you actually did become an Auror?" he tried to change the subject.

Elaine nodded. An uncomfortable silence of what they couldn't say spread between them. In the years they hadn't seen each other, the familiarity that had once connected them had wavered. Sharp had enough tact not to ask what had led her to no longer work as an Auror. He turned away from her to leave when Professor Black approached them.

"Ah, Professor Hopkins, there you are. Since Professor Hecat will continue to teach, she will also continue to inhabit her previous quarters - therefore, you have been assigned to Professor Figs's former accommodation."

Sharp noticed the colour draining from Elaine's face. Apparently, she didn't like the idea of moving into Fig's old rooms. Of course, another professor had moved in after him, and all of Fig's belongings had been removed, but the thought of Elaine now having to live in the old quarters of her mentor, whom she had lost so tragically, also troubled Sharp.

"Professor Sharp, would you kindly escort our newcomer to the faculty tower?" Black ordered.

"Of course, Sir," Sharp replied. Secretly, Elaine was grateful that Black didn't accompany them. They set off in silence. Occasionally, Elaine cast a curious glance at Sharp. Despite his limp, he moved with grace and elegance. She couldn't deny that she admired him and found herself feeling angry and sad about what had happened to him. Before she could dwell further on her thoughts, they had already arrived at Fig's old quarters.

"Here we are," Sharp said, pointing to the door in front of them. "Next to you are Professor Garlick's quarters. I live two floors above you."

She almost answered with "I know". Elaine already knew where the teachers' sleeping quarters were during her school days. Instead, she looked down with a desperate look. She didn't want Sharp to leave so soon. There was so much she wanted to tell him and so few words to express what should have been said. What could she say after being gone for seven years? How could she have described the ridiculous feeling that had accompanied her every day since that day?

In reality, she had indeed wanted to return to Hogwarts. The thought had driven her in the past years, kept her alive. She just didn't want to return empty-handed, as she had now. She wanted to go back. Back to her home. Back to Aesop Sharp. She had so much to tell him, but now that he stood in front of her, her words remained empty. Sharp sensed that Elaine was preoccupied. It was the way she nervously looked around, how she sometimes flinched, and how her muscles tensed at certain inadvertent movements. He knew that posture, that vigilance. She was in pain. And yet he was as clueless as ever.

"Will you be all right? If you need anything..."

"Thank you."

Elaine couldn't stand how naturally helpful Sharp was towards her. The melancholy expression in his eyes tore her apart. They stood facing each other awkwardly for a while, neither of them ready to leave.

"Well then..."

Elaine eventually broke the silence and turned to leave.

"I'm glad you're all right," Sharp suddenly blurted out.

"I've been there," Elaine replied almost simultaneously. Sharp looked at her questioningly.

Elaine sighed before continuing, "In Scarborough. I've been there."

This way to Chapter 4 - The Renegades

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Roland Fryer

Published: May 9, 2024

The anti-Israel protests on college campuses present a puzzle for observers of academic norms and mores. Today, even relatively minor linguistic infractions, like the failure to use someone’s preferred pronouns, are categorized as abuse at many elite institutions, some of which even define potentially offensive speech as “violence.” One need not even speak to run afoul of campus speech codes; I recently participated in a training in which we were warned of the consequences of remaining silent if we heard someone “misgender” someone else.

Definitions of “harmful” speech have become so capacious that one assumes they include antisemitism. In some cases, they surely do: A university wouldn’t take a hands-off approach to a student or faculty member who expressed prejudice against Jews in the manner of Archie Bunker or the Charlottesville marchers. Yet that’s what many of them have done when faced with protesters’ speech that is offensive to Jews, even when it crosses the line into threats, intimidation and harassment.

At a December congressional hearing, the presidents of Harvard, Penn and MIT struggled to answer when Rep. Elise Stefanik (R., N.Y.) asked whether “calling for the genocide of Jews” violates the schools’ “code of conduct or rules regarding bullying and harassment.” Two of the presidents lost their jobs, but the central question remains unresolved: How could it be that the university is zealous about policing pronouns but blasé about the advocacy of hateful violence?

For someone who prides himself on adherence to fact, reason and rationality, trying to follow the logic of university decision-making over the past five years has been a mind-bending experience. But universities are also political entities, where competing interests vie for influence over the function and purpose of the institution. In the case of the protests, two competing interests have made themselves heard most loudly: students and faculty who are hostile to Israel and alumni donors who see the protests as antisemitic. Caught between them are administrators, who must figure out how to balance these interests without entirely losing the faith of either group.

This dynamic can be explained by economic theory. In the early 1970s, economist Michael Spence introduced the concept of signaling, which has since become one of the foundations of information economics and earned Mr. Spence the 2001 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics. This seminal concept helps explain how individuals and organizations communicate their attributes or intentions in situations of information asymmetry.

The best-known application is the job market. Employers and potential employees face a situation in which applicants have more information about their productivity than the employer, since the employer can’t directly observe those qualities before hiring. To overcome this asymmetry, job seekers engage in signaling—taking actions that can credibly convey information about their abilities. Such signals include everything from educational credentials to the way the applicant dresses for an interview.

When I encountered Mr. Spence’s model in graduate school, I was mesmerized. My doctoral dissertation extended his work to understand underinvestment in education in some black communities. The basic economics also seem applicable to what’s going on now on college campuses.

The key idea is that the protests present university administrations with a two-audience signaling quandary: Behaviors that appease students may anger alumni, and vice versa. Like a job applicant’s potential productivity, university administrators’ political preferences are hidden from students and alumni, but they may signal them in various ways. They may choose a liberal commencement speaker rather than a conservative one, they may create programs that emphasize “inclusiveness,” and so on. Students and alumni observe these strategic disclosures of preference, and each group decides whether to accept the decision or agitate against it.

University administrators whose preferences align most closely with their alumni will ignore the students and simply do what they think is best, as the University of Florida’s president did when he banned encampments and declared that the school is “not a daycare.” Those whose views align with the protesting students will do the opposite.

But most top administrators don’t have such strong preferences. They will engage in a high-wire act of trying to appease both students and alumni. If students decide “safety first” is the most important initiative on campus, administrators—even if they disagree—will adopt stances consistent with that and hope the alumni don’t revolt too much. If a few months later students set up encampments and chant anti-Israel slogans, then administrators will also adopt stances consistent with that and, again, hope the alumni don’t complain too much.

The congressional hearings revealed that this signaling strategy was at work. The three presidents would risk alienating students if they disavowed anti-Israel slogans and alumni if they endorsed them. So they offered lawyered-up equivocations that signaled confusion and weakness.

Economic theory can explain why the situation on so many campuses has spiraled out of control and why no interested party—neither students nor donors nor seemingly anybody else—has anything good to say about how administrators are handling the protests. But economics can’t address the more essential issue at play, which is moral. Elite universities decided years ago that they would adopt a basic principle: Any speech act that attacks, questions or even declines to affirm the self-understood identity of another constitutes harm worthy of punishment.

I may not like that principle, but it’s now a fait accompli. And if you’re going to punish one person who violates it, you have to punish everyone who violates it. To permit attacks on one identity group while prohibiting attacks on others is worse than hypocrisy—it is profoundly immoral. If administrators had the courage of their stated convictions, if they had principles rather than merely gestures meant to signal their status as good liberals, the most egregious antisemitism on campus would have been stopped before it could snowball.

Mr. Fryer is a professor of economics at Harvard, a founder of Equal Opportunity Ventures and a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute.

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

DAY 13 - SALVAGE SHIP THE WRETCHED_

[Communications commence, Boris seems to have a little hope_] 

Day Thirteen, salvage ship The Wretched. The beacon started making noises and for a minute I thought my engine fuckups yesterday had wrecked it. No, it’s picking up radio static - radio static from ships that aren’t this one! It’s something! Maybe… Maybe I will get heard in time. 

Today we don’t waste all our time fucking around and finding out_

What would Arkady do?_

What would Arkady do right now? What would he say? I find myself asking it over and over. Before any of my tasks I just… I think about him and what he’d say and do. How would he react to all this? I wonder if he’s watching me right now from wherever you end up when you die in space. I wonder if he’s judging my choices_ 

[Pause_]

What would Arkady do? I don’t know. That’s why I keep asking_

[An alert begins blaring through the ship, echoing around the recorder and there’s the sound of spray going off. Boris’ footsteps echo_]

One day. Can I ask for one day - one FUCKING day without shit going down? What is this this time?!_

[Pause, typing and then a fist slammed on the desk_]

FIRE!? Shit shit shit shit… The sprinklers came on at least… oh fuck fuck it’s one of the backup engines. Probably from all my shitty tinkering before. This is not fucking good… Holy fuck_

[The alarms cease, Boris breathes a huge sigh_]

Okay, fire out. Now to inspect damages… aaand it won’t let me do it remotely because of course not this rustbucket just hates me at this point. Okay, stay calm. Breathe… Breathe deep. Go down and check the extent of the damage. Maybe you can just jettison off that engine and be done with it - go send it out for the thing to play with_

[Pause_]

Maybe I just send it off without looking. The fuck do I need a broken engine for anyways?_

[He types and there’s a beeping noise. The sound of warning alarms and a low rumbling. The engine presumably is jettisoned and Boris laughs_]

There! Not my problem!_

[Recording resumes and Boris sounds as if he has definitely been crying. His speech is periodically interrupted by coughing and what is assumed to be suppressed sobbing.]

I realised it’s been nearly two weeks and I haven’t actually… Gone to see them properly. Like, yeah… I’ve returned items to them when I found them and I’ve been past the room they’re all in but I haven’t… 

[Long pause, several sniffs_]

I put them in AIRLOCK-10 it’s the one closest to our habitat module. Made sense that they needed to be somewhere I wouldn’t smell rotting corpses but also… Somewhere close. I don’t know how to let go exactly. Or how to say goodbye. Or I’m sorry. Or any of it_

[Pause_]

So there’s six bodies in that airlock. It’s actually vaccum sealed too. There’s no oxygen in there so they’re not really… Decaying. I think some stuff gets in when I open it but it’s minimal. They’re not fresh but they’re not… They’re not as bad as some of the other corpses I’ve found on here anyway_

[Pause, a heavy sigh and Boris shuffling_]

I went for the last time. Told myself I’d make this my proper last time. Say goodbye and then… Let them go. I went to the airlock with the last of the personal items I found and I went over each one. I don’t know how long it took but it will never feel like enough time, will it?_

[He breaks for a moment, crying hard_] 

Gave the commander his rifle back first. I got another one out the armoury to replace it. I can’t just go running around with it, it’s not mine and well… It felt disrespectful. I put it with the bear I found and a couple of his record books. Commander Stanisław kept really detailed notes on our course and trajectory so I know he’d prefer to have them on him. I apologised for all the times I’d annoyed him and been stubborn. I was probably a massive headache to him_

Hollis I carried over from the armoury back when I found him. He’s not in the best shape but I tried. I wonder if he thinks I’m really funny that I kept the half-drunk bottle of wine I found in his hand with him when I put him in there. Hollis liked to mess around. We both joked sometimes - he and Arkady actually got along really well too. I hope he’s somewhere he can drink and debauch to his heart’s content now_

[Pause_]

Ada was in the systems room. I found her under the mainframe desk with ADAM’s motherboard in her arms. I think she was hiding. It didn’t feel right to examine the cause of death for anyone and I didn’t want to speculate on it. But I think the thing got her from behind. She’s got ADAM with her now still, I put her diary in her other hand too. Turned over her entire room for her bubblegum stash and added it in - she wouldn’t want to go anywhere without some. It felt… Better that she had it_

Douglas, Doug to friends, was actually more difficult. Idiot had to hide somewhere tight fitting and I almost didn’t find him at all. He’s fine now, aside from a little rigour mortis. I found all his comms equipment when I fixed the beacon and set this recorder up so he’s got his own things with him. Personal recordings - I listened to a few. It’s hard to hear his voice and not cry, and I hate crying. He really did drive Mary up the fucking wall… Ah_

[Pause, Boris breaks again to cry for a moment, trying to regain himself_]

Mary… She’s next to Arkady, the two of them sort of ended up leaning on each other. That’s fine, they can stay together that way. She wasn’t far from the storage unit either. She got so close too, the three of us we could have all- No. Don’t dwell on that_ 

[Pause_]

I regret not telling her how I felt. I regret not kissing her more. I miss the time we danced in the observatory under the stars. I miss her_ 

[Long silence. Boris’ voice is barely above a whisper_]

Arkady_

How do you say goodbye to a part of yourself? Your own brother, your own twin? The person who’s never not been with you ‘til now. You don’t just��� You don’t just stop and let go. He’s my twin and he’s still me and I’m still him. Half of me died two weeks ago. Half of me is lying cold in that airlock_

[Pause_]

I told him to keep Mary safe. Told him thank you for saving my life but that he’s an idiot for throwing his own life away. Told him I love him, I miss him I- I said I’d keep trying. Keep trying to live for him. Hoping and praying that my own life isn’t thrown away in vain after all he did_

I said all my goodbyes but… When I said I’d jettison them I… I couldn’t do it. They’re still there. I can’t just yet. Not yet_

Crying is extremely dehydrating and all I’ve done these past two weeks aside from suffer is cry - a lot. The water system has been working but this time, after a needed drink from earlier, I noticed the taste was off. Not by much but, slight_

[Pause_]

It smells funny too_ 

[He sniffs, sighing_]

Piss. Okay not actual piss. Ammonia. Great. It’s not purifying exactly anymore. It’s not dangerous yet, I hope, but still unpleasant. It almost makes me tempted to see what remains of the ship’s alcohol stores and just let it all go. But maybe not yet. Maybe once this water is truly undrinkable_

[Pause_]

Least no one is alive to make piss jokes at me_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_ 

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Class of ‘86, Baby!- Eddie Munson x OC

Eddie Munson x Misty Hawthorne

Description: Eddie and Misty finally graduate from Hawkins High. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Today was the day; the one that all the seniors of Hawkins High School were waiting for: graduation. Considering all the chaos that had occurred during spring break, it was really a hit or miss on whether any graduation would be happening at all. Thankfully, everything had been cleared once the FBI entered the situation and everything went back to normal (well, as normal as it could be). 

Misty couldn’t have been more excited about it. She’d spent literally the entirety of the day before getting everything ready with Robin Buckley (and Ella Warner, who’d already graduated). The next morning she woke up bright and early, almost too eager to get dressed that she almost forgot to eat. She wore her nicest dress under her graduation gown and did her hair and makeup to the nines. After all, they were celebrating the fact that they were finally leaving the hell that was high school.

And it wasn’t just her that was graduating. Eddie had managed to pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s final, which meant he could finally graduate! Misty remembered how ecstatic he’d been when he told her, and her being equally excited. Now they could finally go through with the plan they’d made at the beginning of the year: walk the stage, get their diplomas, then run like hell out of that god forsaken town. The very thought made Misty all but bounce in her seat on the way to the high school. 

Once she and her parents arrived she immediately went to the gym for attendance. There she saw all of her senior friends already in their seats either talking to each other excitedly or making sure they looked okay. As she walked to her temporary seat, her eyes scanned over the sea of heads, searching for someone in particular. A wide smile appeared on her face when she finally found who she was looking for. 

Eddie was already sitting in his seat as well, arms crossed as he (impatiently) waited for them to head to the auditorium, where the ceremony would commence. It was almost weird to see him in such bright colors. The green graduation cap and gown contrasted greatly against his usual dark and edgy attire. Misty could tell without even talking to him that he was uncomfortable by the change in style, but she also knew that he would grit his teeth and bare it for the hour or so that he had to in order to get through it. 

The boy’s eyes suddenly met hers, and Misty noticed his light up as a grin appeared on his face. She offered him a small wave, but that was all she had time for before the school’s superintendent stood everyone up to head to the auditorium at exactly 6:00 p.m. 

The auditorium was full of all the graduates’ families and friends. Upon looking around Misty was quick to spot the Hellfire Club (who had shown up in support of both Eddie and her) sitting near Eddie’s uncle, Wayne. They waved to her and she waved back as she took her seat. A shaky breath left her as she faced forward, watching Principal Higgins walk up to the podium in the center of the stage. 

The beginning of the ceremony was so boring to Misty that she legitimately almost fell asleep during his “inspirational” speech talking about how proud he was. After his speech came the valedictorian Mary Forsythe’s and the class president Mason Dormane’s speeches. Theirs were a bit more bearable, but they were still something she’d heard a million times before between all of her cousin’s and several of her older friend’s graduations. 

Finally, one of the school counselors, Mr. Hughes stepped up to the podium and began the diploma presentation. They did it by rows, which was thankfully both convenient and quick. Because Misty’s last name started with an H, she had to wait quite a while before her row even lined up to the stage. It was nearing the one hour and fifteen minute mark when Miss Kelly, another counselor, silently gestured for them to stand and follow her to the steps that led up to the stage as Mr. Hughes neared the end of the row in front of them. 

“William Hargrove, Dominic Harreda, April Hawkes,” be listed in a professional tone. Misty was next. She took another deep, nervous breath as she waited, already preparing her smile for the photographer when he inevitably took her picture with the principal. Finally the anticipated moment came to fruition. 

“Misty Hawthorne.” The girl kept her wide smile plastered to her face as she walked up the steps towards the principal, who already held out her diploma for her to take. In the background she could hear quite a few people cheering. It was mostly from the Hellfire Club, her new friends like Steve and Ella, her parents and even Wayne. But no one was louder than her boyfriend. 

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” Eddie shouted from his seat above the polite applause from their fellow graduates, having cupped his hands around his mouth to enhance the exclamation. Misty didn’t need to look to know that the surrounding students were giving him gates and reprimanding looks. She couldn’t help but laugh as she reached Principal Higgins. He smiled politely as she took her diploma. They shook hands then took a picture before she moved on to the other side of the stage to walk back to her designated chair. 

As she retook her seat, a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins, lighting up her entire body. That was it. She’d done it. A goofy smile formed on her face as she looked down at the diploma sitting in her lap. It was similar to that of  a hardcover book with the piece of paper actually lying inside. On the cover had the school’s name, graduation year, and under that was her name all engraved into it. Only further proof that she was finally getting out of there. She’d been so giddy about it that she almost forgot to clap for the person after her. 

Another half hour went by before Mr. Hughes finally got to the M’s. That was when Misty began paying attention, a wide smile appearing on her face when she watched Eddie’s row stand and form a line like the rows before them. Her eyes stayed on her boyfriend as the counselor began calling the names of his row. 

“Valerie Monsem, Martin Moreno, Christopher Munoz…” the names continued until he finally got to the highly anticipated name. “Edward Munson.” Immediately Misty could hear the loud and boisterous cheers of the Hellfire Club behind her along with Wayne. She laughed, then decided to return Eddie’s earlier favor. 

“THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!” She yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to make sure she was heard just as he had. Eddie’s shoulders shook with laughter as he crossed the stage and grabbed his diploma. He barely had time to pose for a picture before he threw up the rock and roll salute and stuck out his tongue towards the crowd before heading back to his seat. The girl was glad that she’d convinced him not to flip Principal Higgins off, no matter how funny it would have been. The salute was an easy compromise. 

It felt like the rest of the diploma presentation flew by after that. Before Misty even realized it, Principal Higgins took the podium once again. He instructed the graduates to stand, which they did, then move their tassels from the right side of their cap to the left. A proud smile appeared on his face.

“Congratulations, Hawkins High School class of 1986,” he concluded. Immediately the graduates took off their caps and threw them into the air like all of the movies do. It didn’t take the girl long to find her cap once again then all but run out of the school to where the graduates would meet their friends and families with the rest of the students. 

Family members and other guests filed out of the building, which made the front yard of the school quickly become crowded. That meant it was a bit more difficult for the girl to locate her parents. She attempted to stand on her tiptoes (as well as she could in heels) to search, but to no avail. A sigh left her lips as she realized that she would have to physically walk around to find them. Just as she began to take a step forward, arms wrapped around her from behind and she was picked up. A surprised scream left her lips as she was spun around by the mystery person, but then they quickly set her down. 

“Class of ‘86, baby!” Eddie yelled almost directly into her ear. A smile instantly appeared on her face when she realized it wasn’t just some stranger and she turned in his arms. 

“We did it!” She exclaimed with the same excitement as him as her hand came up to cradle his cheek while the other rested at the base of his neck. “I’m so proud of you babe.” The boy laughed as his arms tightened around her. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. And she could tell he was being genuine. 

“Oh, don’t get sappy on me now,” the girl jokingly rolled her eyes, which earned another laugh from her boyfriend. 

“I’m always sappy when it comes to you,” he responded simply. Misty blushed at that and shook her head before kissing him again. Their little moment was interrupted by Dustin suddenly calling Eddie’s name. They pulled away just in time for him, along with the rest of the Hellfire Club and their other friends, to appear right beside them. The couple was pulled into a group hug, which they gladly accepted. They began talking excitedly to each other shortly before Misty’s parents and Wayne found them. 

Hutton and Willow Hawthorne had graciously invited Eddie, Dwayne, the Hellfire Club and their other friends out to dinner in celebration of the two graduates. It ended up being a great night amongst the group. Misty was honestly surprised they hadn’t been kicked out of the restaurant with how loud all of them were being. 

By the time she and her parents returned home she was absolutely exhausted and more than ready for bed. She barely managed to take off all her makeup change into her pajamas before she plopped on the bed. A happy sigh left the girl as her eyes fell closed. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep until she’d been woken up by the familiar sound of her window sliding open. A smile quickly formed on her lips, though her eyes remained closed as Eddie crawled through her window and slid it back down. 

It was only when he climbed into bed beside her that they finally opened. She was met with her boyfriend’s content, albeit tired, smile and those deep brown eyes that she adored. The two of them took a moment to get comfortable with each other before they even attempted to speak. It ended with Misty half facing her boyfriend half laying flat on her back. Eddie was halfway sitting up with left arm supporting the top half of his body while his right arm rested comfortably on her stomach. 

“Hi beautiful,” Eddie whispered, playing with the hair at the top of her head with his left hand. Misty smiled as she lifted a hand up to move some hair behind the boy’s ears in order to see him better. 

“Hi,” she whispered back, happy to bask in his presence. 

“Sorry I woke up,” he muttered, though he didn’t actually look apologetic. “I just wanted to see you. We didn’t get to talk a lot during dinner.” 

“It’s fine,” the girl shrugged. “I’m happy to see you anytime.” She watched as pink dusted the apples of Eddie’s cheeks and giggled softly. They fell into a comfortable silence for a short while, both of them content to just be near each other. A relaxed sigh left the boy’s lips as he leaned his head back to look at her ceiling. 

“Just think; a little longer and you and I can finally get out of here,” he mumbled. Misty smiled at the mere thought. Just the two of them going off for some big adventure now that they were free from the confines of high school. 

“Where were you thinking of going?” Eddie pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Wherever you want. What’s one place you’ve always wanted to go?” 

“New York,” she answered immediately. “All the best art is there, and there are so many sights we could see.”

“Cliche, but doable,” the boy retorted, which made Misty shove his shoulder. They laughed in unison before she continued. 

“Maybe we can stay here for a little while before we leave. You can play a few more shows with Corroded Coffin and grab some extra cash while I work so we can do everything we want once we’re there.” 

“Smart. I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Eddie teased, and in return the girl rolled her eyes. They continued talking about where they would go in the future until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was a lot, and it would take a long time to complete. But they would be traveling with each other, which was more than enough for them. Things would get better from here on out.

[lauvra]

Yesterday I came upon a book that I'd never heard of before, and familiar electric signals pulsed through my brain: this would be, like, my sixteenth Rollins. The book stayed firmly in my clasp while I browsed other shelves, even finally giving the occult quarter it's due but just before heading to the counter, opened the title page to tally my collection and saw something I'd never considered dreading; the man's signature. The book was priced at one hundred dollars. It was a collection of his LA Weekly Articles, a first in the 'Before the Chop' series, and I'd never read any of them. When I tell you how conflicted I felt, to know he signs most of his books... but not knowing how rare a find this was, only knowing he doesn't stock almost any books online anymore... I didn't buy the thing, I told no one in particular that he'd only laugh at me. Today, to stay out of trouble I sat to read in my unofficial booth out front my favourite bar and read most of Good Old Neon, by DFW. If anybody is sick of hearing about the guy, it's too bad, I've only known about him for two years (maybe I'd seen This Is Water, the commencement speech, however) and am still only thigh deep in his mind whether any of us like it... I've been sitting here for maybe half an hour in darkness listening to someone graffiti the tin fence beside my head. Every time I make a noise, they go silent, I think if I make apparent enough human sounds they'll flee but they don't, so, instead of sitting here silently paranoid it's someone I'll know, I've opted to open this doomed laptop back up and write in my dark corner, with the unflattering angles of my face illuminated to any stranger that deigns to peek through the holes in the wall; most of which I've already shoved pieces of garbage through to conceal myself in the case of such an event: I'm a lunatic. If I can keep my composure and write even though my psychotic paranoid mind wants me to focus on whoever is writing on my house, I think I'm doing well. Where was I? Good Old Neon. So, I'm actually reading The David Foster-Wallace Reader, which is almost as thick as Infinite Jest, but far more approachable in that it's a series of carefully selected chunks of both his larger works, and short stories... okay, one guy just whistled to another, literally too subtle, bro, I am dying... most followed by annotations from prominent authors. So far, a couple have been pretty difficult to read, difficult in that they reference suicide and... with such an intelligence that only comes from somebody who has considered the 'awful thing' from pretty much every single angle. If you somehow didn't already know, David killed himself in 2008, which makes these quasi-fictional stories all the more coloured in their already sincere condensed nature. Okay I literally can't concentrate, and all I want to do is sneak down the alleyway to see WHO IS DOIN WHAT. I can't even edit this right now, such is my distraction. I still pay way too much attention to the writing on every wall. Oh God, there's even a skateboard, I wanna fart. Loud.

[pashterlengkap]

Harrison Butker’s Biblical worldview would kick the nation into Christian Nationalist hell

Benedictine College, a Catholic school in Kansas, called in Kansas City Chiefs star kicker Harrison Butker to give the commencement speech to the eager graduates of the Class of 2024 and friends and family on the sidelines. While most commentators heard the speech as landing far outside of bounds, those present heard it as a holy field goal coming from heaven itself (as evidenced by the passionate and sustained standing ovation). Related NFL player rants about Pride Month celebrating “deadly sins” in graduation speech as audience groans The Kansas City Chiefs kicker and Super Bowl champ used the speech to advocate for Christian Nationalist beliefs. Rather than sharing the wisdom he has gained over the years, which is typical for any commencement speaker, instead Butker ran the course of his remarks with his misguided interpretation of Christian scripture tucked under his arm. Using this play, he called LGBTQ pride a “deadly sin” and accused President Biden and other progressives of pushing “dangerous gender ideologies.” Dive deeper every day Join our newsletter for thought-provoking commentary that goes beyond the surface of LGBTQ+ issues Subscribe to our Newsletter today What received the most attention, however, was his characterization of women who, he argued, were sold “diabolical lies” about the benefits of working outside the home. Standing in front of graduates who worked hard and sacrificed much to earn their college degrees, Butker told female graduates that their only course of life is to serve men and to birth and raise children in the institution of heterosexual marriage. His comments were not only insulting and demeaning to women who hope to enter a career, with or without marriage and children, but it also highly hypocritical.   In fact, Harrison’s mother, Elizabeth Keller Butker, has spent the last three decades working as an accomplished medical physicist — yes, outside the home. But as we see many conservative lawyers and judges – even on the Supreme Court – defining themselves as “strict constructionists” by interpreting the U.S. Constitution as the founders would have understood it, so too have many conservative Christians – many who could be placekicked into the field of “Christian Nationalists” – also read the testaments as the literal and unalterable words of God. So, what would be the outcome if these passages were taken literally? Christian Testaments: On Women 1 Timothy 2:9 – I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes. 1 Timothy 2:11-12 – Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent. 1 Corinthians 11:3 – But I would have you know, that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God. 1 Corinthians 11:5 – And every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head–it is just as though her head were shaved. 1 Corinthians 14:33-35, 37 – As in all the churches of the saints, the women should keep silence in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as even the law says. If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church. . . . what I am writing to you is a command of the Lord. Ephesians 5:22 – Wives, be submissive to your husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Colossians 3:18 – Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord. Christian Testaments: On Divorce Matthew 19:3–8; cf. Mark 10:2–9; Luke 16:18 – The Pharisees questioned Jesus when he taught on the permanence of marriage…. Pharisees came up to him and tested him by asking, “Is it lawful to divorce one’s wife for any cause?” He… http://dlvr.it/T7P8Q7

[amalgamgooze]

intimidated.

I finished writing my commencement speech today, and submitted it into the pool for review. Though I spent quite a bit of time workshopping it, I'm still concerned that it's not the best I could've made it--even after taking it to the school's writing lab.

But then again, I'm confident I'll at least make it to the five-speech round where I'll read the speech in front of a board of teachers alongside four other students. I can't say exactly why.

I mean, compared to the other students submitting speeches, my performance at school has been... mediocre. Like I've mentioned previously on here, though I had the ability to succeed at school, I didn't really ever fully seize it in favor of more personal (but equally intellectually stimulating) pursuits. I'm not talking about personal nuclear reactors or that kind of shit. I'm talking about learning how to write music, learning higher level math just for fun, and learning how to code. All the stuff that never really gets recognized on any transcripts or manuscripts.

And maybe it's hubristic to think that my speech might actually have a touching message when compared to the rest. Honestly, I'm intimidated by the other classmates who've I heard might be submitting speeches. They're all part of Cum Laude and stuff. I never made it into Cum Laude because I foolishly valued studying music more than my GPA. It's not a mistake I regret, though sometimes I do wish I'd discussed it with my Music Theory teacher more.

...okay, so I might be the only one out of the pool of speech writers who's taken that Music Theory class. I suppose I'm extraordinary in that aspect.

But, in the end, what does that really mean? That's not as extraordinary as extraordinary grades or transcripts.

I didn't really put forth all the effort I should've in the rest of my classes.

All these other kids have grades and transcripts superior to mine, grades and transcripts that could've easily been my own had I put in that little bit of extra effort. But, again, I just didn't feel like doing that extra effort when I'd devoted my "extra effort" to my own personal pursuits.

The speeches aren't even judged based on grade history.

For now, I'm assuming they're judged as blindly as possible for qualification into the final round.

That doesn't change the fact that I'm intimidated.

After having written my speech.

It doesn't even matter that I'm intimidated.

...I'm back in that silly little purgatory I was in when I thought it'd be fun to apply to MIT--

I know I'm probably going to get rejected, but now that I've submitted a speech, there's still that glimmer of a chance that it might be accepted.

...and in a weird sort of way, I'm kind of proud to claim that I was rejected from MIT.

Sure, *anyone* can get rejected from MIT... but not everybody does. There's a million people who never tested their chance at getting into MIT.

Likewise, I suppose I'll look back on having submitted a speech, even if it gets rejected, since I'll still be thankful that I submitted a speech instead of living a life of "what if I had...".

So, am I intimidated?

Of course.

Can that intimidation detriment me in any speech-related way right now?

Nope.

It's almost as if the intimidation exists just to mess with me mentally.

Oh well. The final five speeches will be announced next Friday, I believe.

I suppose I've got something to wait for again, then.

From here to next week. To hell with what transcripts are supposed to mean. I had fun.

[cotlfanficspromptsblog]

COTL SOTF Fanfic(Remake)

Chapter 4 : "Love at First Sight"

Day 330 of The Midsummonar Cult..

"It has been a few weeks since Sammi & Midge had their daughter Maxine, and since then she's been a very sweet child & became a grateful worshipped cultist til she became an adult.

the young demoness had her Mother Sammi's sweet personality & her Other Mother Midge's Rebellious/laidback personality while her genes are from her bio mom Sammi. Things were going swell until she met the love of her life with a young green mushroomo follower named Apollo Shroomo.

Maxine was worshipping at the shrine for their leader of the lamb, while suddenly right next to her Apollo sat right next to her spot where the two kids instantly met.

M : Hi I'm maxine buttefree what's your name?

A : Good Afternoon Maxine, i'm Apollo Shroomo! a past disciple of Dr.Sozo..

M : Ahh a Mushroomo huh?, you pretty handsome to be a shroom dealer from Spore Grotto *chuckles*

Apollo giggled a bit after listening to Maxine's sweet compliment towards him & was quite interested in his origins from spore grotto & connection to Sozo/Dr.Sozonius(current idenitity)

A : Why that's quite a nice compliment, thank you m'lady max!

Maxine's Thoughts : "M'lady Maxine?, She Pondered in her mind, never heard someone in the cult speak the celitc medieval speech?

M : *chuckles* Well then thanketh, Sir Apollo! for the kindest compliement about thy self.

Apollo & Maxine started to become fast friends quite fast since they both were young adults bonding and having a good laugh together.. until everyone was going into the temple for another sermon and instantly the two then walked into the temple together ready to hear the lamb's "good word" during today's sermon.

*Inside The Temple*

Everyone was all cluttered together in the temple which has upgraded since the earliest days of Lambert's Cult, which now has a golden interior where every single follower including Maxine's Mothers & Apollo's other friends in the cult were all mumbling & muttering at each other until their leader was ready at the podium for today's daily sermon & rituals being commenced.

Lambert was at the podium and started talking the sermon & good word for his loyal followers to take high advice from.

L : "The Sermon today will consist of Us continuing to spreading the word of our cult, with both old members who known and new members who don't and will learn for futures to come..

Maxine & Apollo were both pretty bored hearing the sermon, both decided to just got outside and get to know each other better & most of all grow their friendship together, maybe even more in the future?

M : So Apollo, what are you favorite hobbies?

A : Well M'lady, i love playing knucklebones, farming, and being well quite "naughty" whenever i'm feeling Lustful-like.. *chuckles* But enough about me, tell more about you Maxie?

M : Well I like being quite sinful, love fashion & being a punk emo, my family and well just being myself!

A : Interesting, your quite a fun gal i can tell, and also i never knew you have 2 lesbian mothers i presume?

M : Oh yeah, of course my mothers are lesbian moms, or as i like to call them Mother & Other Mother for short..

A : Gee, your lucky to have 2 moms.. i don't really have any other family biologically but rather i'm an adopted child of the new gateway keeper that leader visits once in a while.. idk if you know them.

M : Aww that's okay, Apollo. just be lucky & blessed to be adopted by a all-powerful gatekeeper god no less! that's pretty awesome if you ask me!

A : Really?, well glad to hear Maxie. y'know your a great friend to talk too & really am a trusting friend & maybe someday my gf?..

Maxine smiled at Apollo's response back towards her during their outdoor conversation, on the outside she felt she finally met a very caring, friendly & trusting new friend and possibly someday her bf if her mothers & most esp the leader will accept him as apart of the cult and blooming relationship.. but she knew in her mind that was for another time in another day.. another day..

A : *snaps fingers* hello maxie?, you still there?

Maxine then snapped back to reality as her mind sorta drifted & daydreamed for second of her unknown future with her new friend apollo..

M : oh i'm fine Apollo.. *nervously chuckles* my mind went blank there lol

A : that's okay, well guess it's getting late, gonna go to bed.. it was really nice talking to you today, really made my afternoon maxie

M : aww same here Apollo, i feel like i should give you a nickname but your name's kinda hard to make a cute nickname for?

A : hmm how about Apo

M : Apo?

A : Yeah Apo, it could be a shorter version of my full name of Apollo!

M : Apo.. I like that!

Maxine & Apollo then ran up to each other and hugged friendly-like and waved each other goodnight until the next day.

M : *blows kiss at Apo* Goodnight Apo!

A : *catches blow kiss from maxine* Night Maxie!

The two teens of the cult were already blossoming a friendship and having secret crushes on each other in only the span of a day. it may have been pretty shocking to everyone else in the cult during their daily dayjobs or chats, but recently Max's 2 moms Sammi & Midge both noticed their daughter talking to Apollo while peaking out of the temple & they both were worried due to Apollo revealing to Max his home life and "parental guardian" outside of the cult's walls which is forbidden to the cult unless it's either a missionary or just plain being dissenting against the lamb & his worshippers.. but overall Sammi was quite worried for her only daughter because she dealt with this before in her youth..

tomorrow may be a nice chat with Apo for Maxine, but for her Mothers(or just Mother) it's pretty suspecious

To be contined..

[americanmysticom]

Entry Two THE MASTER OF PRAYER, excerpt from book title "The Tales of Rabbi Nachman" by Martin Buber

Here the merchants, who had looked around in all the breadth of the earth, gave report of a country whose wealth far surpassed their own, in fact, surpassed any human conception, so that all its inhabitants were gods in might through their possessions. Surely, they now imagined, these people held the means of help in their gold-filled hands,

While the Counsel Met But while the council met, the master of prayer had again made his way into this strange land. Like the first time, he began to talk with the guards, and they told him how an invincible hero threatened their province and how their great men intended to send to the land of gods for help against the oncoming warrior. Laughing, he rebuked them for such folly and spoke to them of God, the source and goal of all inner life. This time the guards followed his speech with half an ear, and at the end one of them said, "And what then can I do who am just an individual and a powerless man!" It seemed to the master then as if, with this answer, a great event had already taken place.

He went further into the city, where everywhere he heard talk of the warrior and of the danger that threatened the faith. He mingled among all kinds of people, listened to them, and sought to show them the futility of their way of thinking. While they gave him reports of the hero and his deeds, he said to himself once,

"Can it be he?"—and it was as if he knew him. This was noticed by some who were already provoked with him because he ridiculed their law; they seized him on the spot and brought him before the rulers that they should judge him as a blasphemer of the faith and as one who was in league with their adversary. The judges interrogated him as to whether he knew that conqueror.

The King and His Court I once served a king," answered the master. At his court there lived a hero. If, as I believe, it is this man who threatens your country, then I know him."

"But from where do you know him?" they asked. Whereupon he commenced and related the following: "The king of whom I spoke to you possessed a wonderful figure that borrowed its form from a hand with all its folds and furrows. This was a map of all the worlds at all times, and whatever happened stood drawn on it to read, the fate of countries, cities and men and all the pathways to this world and the hidden pathways to distant worlds. There stood each thing as it was at the hour when the world was created, as it has been since then, and as it is today. Thus Sodom is registered in its pride before its destruction, and there is Sodom as it is today, touched by the finger of the Lord. But the king alone could read the hand."

Thus spoke the master, all listened to him, and the ring of truth that sounded in his talk knocked at their hearts.

"Now tell us, where is the king?" they asked further. But some were seized immediately by their old craving for gold and inquired greedily, "If he is in possession of such wisdom, it may well be that he can show us ways that lead into the bowels of the earth to the place of gold?

Then the master became angry and cried out, "Do you always think of amassing wealth? Never speak of it to me!"

"Well," they answered, "tell us at any rate where your king resides." "Today," he said, "even I do not know it. But I shall tell you what rook place." And he related this history:

"There were a king and a queen who had an only daughter. "At the court of the king were masters of many arts and skills. The king, who was lord of the hand, the map of all worlds and times, knew the place where each art and skill had its primal source which flowed out of the depths of eternity;

and he knew the ways to these places. If a master came to feel that the grace in him had been exhausted and that things no longer submitted to his command, then the king sent him to his place to renew his might.

Thus, there was a singer there who had the gift of finding enchanting words and tones and with them moving all hearts. To him the king showed the place of inexhaustible melody that sounds forth from itself back into itself.

And there was a wise man whom the king led to the place of light where the last foundations open and no level can withhold itself from the eye.

To me, he showed the place of the soul where the fountain of fire beat against me, and the power of my prayer was rejuvenated in its stream.

And in the same manner, that conqueror of whom you are afraid owed to the king the perfection of his invincibility. For he showed him the path to the place where stood in the earth the sword of victory, the sight of which hurls down all living beings that bar its road. And the king gave him the sword. But from time to time he must return to its place and plant the sword in the earth, which nourishes and consecrates it for new wars.

"When now the king's daughter grew up, her father summoned all his followers so that they should advise who should become her husband. My advice was that she should be given to the hero. Thus, it happened, and the hero and the princess were married. After a while, the king's daughter bore a child that was a sheer miracle of beauty, and a radiance emanated from it. It came into the world with perfected knowledge; only speech was still lacking to it, but from its expression one could read that it understood the inner meaning of every speech. It even looked at the dumb things as if they told it something and laughed at them, not as if succumbing to a whim of the moment, but as if out of a great and secret knowledge.

Photo by Zdeněk Macháček on Unsplash

[suchananewsblog]

‘Harlem’ Creator Tracy Oliver Schools USC Grads On WGA Strike, State Of A Season 3, & To “Expect The Unexpected” In Commencement Speech – Watch

“So today, I stand here before you very, very unemployed,” admitted Harlem creator Tracy Oliver today in her speech USC School of Cinematic Arts graduates. “ “Yup, I’m this year’s Mary Pickford recipient and I ain’t got no jobs, my Apple deal was just suspended, I can’t make money as a writer for however long this strike goes on, oh and yeah… just heard Kevin Hart canceled our dinner plans,” the…

[griffintail]

Blow Us All Away

Pairings: Parental! Wilbur x F! Reader

Warnings: Blood Mention, Duel, Death

A/N: This is literally all over the SMP timeline the basic thing is Revivebur or Ghostbur didn't happen and L'Manberg is still a standing country. This is an idea I randomly had for my Lost Ones character Little Star and decided to just write it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet the latest graduate of King's College

I prob'ly shouldn't brag, but, dag, I amaze and astonish

The scholars say I got the same virtuosity and brains as my pops

The gents say my brain's not where the resemblance stops

I'm only nineteen but my mind is older

Gotta be my own person, like my father, but bolder

I shoulder his legacy with pride, I used to hear him say

That someday I would blow us all away!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) was always proud to consider herself Wilbur’s daughter. She had his fire and brains. He taught her his talents of music and she was able to learn with ease. She’d walk around with pride with her L’Manberg uniform, wearing and bearing her titles with pride.

The daughter of the nation’s president and a soon-to-be cabinet member. Her father was confident she could do just about anything and would most certainly succeed him with ease once she got older.

Today though, she was a lady on a mission. She had her uniform on as always but she had her hands behind her back, a serious look plastered onto her face. Ahead on her walk down the prime path, she spotted Niki and Eret talking.

“Ladies, I'm lookin for a Ms. Wastaken. Made a speech last week, our peace talk speaker. She disparaged my father's legacy in front of a crowd. I can't have that; I'm making my father proud.” (Y/N) stopped in front of the pair explain herself.

“I saw her just up Broadway a couple of blocks, she was goin' to see a play,” Eret told the girl.

“Well, I'll go visit her box.” (Y/N) tipped her hat before going to the stage in the SMP land.

As (Y/N) got to the stage, there was currently being a play put on people she didn’t know but that didn’t matter to her right now. She was a lady on a mission. In the high seats sat the daughter of Dream and that was her goal.

“Terror!” (Y/N) came forward in front of her seat.

“Shh!” Terror didn’t even look at her.

“Terror!”

“Shh, I'm tryin' to watch the show!”

“Ya shoulda watched your mouth before you talked about my father though!”(Y/N) protested as the other finally looked at her.

Around them, the crowd had become less interested in the play as they watched the far more interesting events in front of them.

“I didn't say anything that wasn't true. Your father's a coward, and so, it seems, are you.”

(Y/N) gave a short laugh as she watched her. “It's like that?”

“Yeah, I don't fool around, I'm not your little school girl friends.”

“Well, see you on the dueling ground! That is unless you wanna step outside and go now!”(Y/N) challenged with spread arms.

“I know where to find you, piss off, I'm watchin' this show now.” Terror once more didn’t look at the other woman on the ground.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw but stormed off. She’d show her! She’d win that duel and Terror would…

She stopped near Tubbo’s old house realizing what she had just done. That’s one thing Wilbur had never taught her; she didn’t know how to fight. They were a peaceful nation that didn’t need to fight. They used their words and she just signed herself up to use weapons.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she looked around.

She tended to overstep herself when it came to standing for her father, but this time she’d stepped too far. She didn’t know what to do, she needed help. There was no way she’d let Wilbur know what she did, but she knew one person that would keep a secret and she took off. Stopping outside the odd building, she knocked on the door and after a few moments, the fox hybrid opened the door, tail flicking seeing his sister.

“(Y/N), hey. What’s up?” Fundy asked, moving to let her.

“Fundy, I challenged Terror to a duel.” She admitted immediately as she walked in.

“You what?!” His fur puffed up as he closed his door hurriedly. “Why would you do that?!”

“It just slipped! She talked shit about dad Fundy! Fundy, if you had only heard the shit, she said about him; I doubt you would have let it slide and I was not about to!” She threw her hands up as she paced.

“Slow down.” Fundy tried to calm her as he took her shoulders.

“I came to ask you for advice, this is my very first duel. They don't exactly cover this subject in L’Manberg.” She sighed.

“Did your friends attempt to negotiate a peace?”

“She refused to apologize, we had to let the peace talks cease.”

“Where is this happening?”

“Across the river, in Las Nevadas.”

“Everything is legal in Las Nevadas.” They both nodded.

“Alright, so this is what you're gonna do. Stand there like proud until Terror is in front of you. When the time comes, fire your weapon in the air. This will put an end to the whole affair.”

“But what if she decides to shoot? Then I'm a goner.”

“No, she'll follow suit if she's truly a woman of honor. To take someone's life, that is something you can't shake (Y/N), our father can't take another heartbreak.” He muttered, looking away for a moment, as he thought of everything that happened recently.

Their father was certainly having a hard time with all of it and they both knew it but (Y/N) didn’t just want to stand there. That felt like proving Terror right.

“Fundy!” She protested.

“Promise me.” He looked back at her as he thought about the war. “You don't want this young woman's blood on your conscience.”

She hesitated before sighing as she nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

“Come back home when you're done.” Fundy patted her shoulder before going to his weapons chest and pulling out his old bow and handed it to her. “Take my bow, be smart, make me proud, sis.”

(Y/N) took the bow, staring at it before nodding. Putting it on her back, she took a deep breath before leaving Fundy’s home and went towards Las Nevadas.

“My name is (Y/N). I am a musician. And I'm a little nervous, but I can't show it. I'm sorry, I'm a Soot with pride. You talk about my father; I cannot let it slide.” She sang to herself the familiar beat she knew.

Before she knew it, she was in Las Nevadas and Terror was standing there with a few souls that had seen from the play to watch how this act ended and a few faces she recognized that must have heard about the duel about to occur. She just hoped her father hadn’t heard how she wasn’t using her words.

“Terror, how was the rest of your show?” (Y/N) asked as she came forward.

“I'd rather skip the pleasantries, let's go.” Terror told her, moving her mask from the side of her face to the front. “Grab your bow.”

(Y/N) nodded as she took off the bow. “Confer with your men. The duel will commence after we count to ten.”

(Y/N) went to her position as everyone started to shift with excitement and nervousness. A few citizens from Las Nevadas had become curious and came to see.

“Look 'em in the eye, aim no higher.” (Y/N) muttered to herself as she gripped onto the bow. “Summon all the courage you require. Then slowly and clearly aim your bow towards the sky.”

The counting started and they began to take their paces.

One, two, three.

(Y/N) pulled the string back and aimed it up.

Four, five, six.

Before most of the crowd could react, Terror turned on her heel with her bowstring pulled back.

Seven.

And the bowstring was released and (Y/N) let out a cry as she fell to the ground. Blood was already starting to quickly pour as Terror scoffed.

“And now that’s done.” Terror said, walking away as a few people went to help the other.

Everything was blurry for (Y/N). Everything seemed so fast but so slow. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t know where she was. All she could feel was pain and dizziness consuming her. She didn’t even hear as there was a call on the walkie about what happened as Foolish carried her to a cleaner location to hopefully heal her.

Fundy’s blood went cold when he heard the call on the radio and bolted for Las Nevadas. He demanded to know where his little sister was and once he found out where she was, he booked it for there too.

~~~~~~~~

Stay Alive

Stay Alive

~~~~~~~~

Fundy made it to Foolish had brought her and was ready to barge his way through every room to find her when Foolish stepped out.

“Where's my sister?” Fundy demanded.

“Fundy, come in, I brought her in a half an hour ago. She lost a lot of blood on the way over.” Foolish explained to him.

“Is she alive?” Fundy felt the tears in his eyes.

“Yes, but you have to understand. The arrow entered just above her hip and lodged in her right arm.”

“Can I see her please?”

“I'm doing everything I can but the wound was already infected when she arrived.” Foolish told him as he hesitantly led him to where (Y/N) was.

“(Y/N)!” Fundy rushed to her side, gently putting a hand on her forehead as Foolish let them be.

The pain had started to numb and (Y/N) could vaguely see her brother as she was able to hear him clearly.

“Fundy. I did exactly as you said, Fundy. I held my head up high.”

“I know, I know, shh.”

“High—” (Y/N) tried to continue but stumbled over her words.

“I know, I know, shh. I know you did everything just right.” Fundy assured her as tears spilled from his eyes.

“Even before we got to ten.” She needed to explain what happened, she needed him to know even as he gently shushed her. “I was aiming for the sky. I was aiming for the sky.”

“I know, I know, shh. I know, save your strength and stay alive.” Fundy pleaded with her as his ears went flat and his tail wrapped around his leg.

That’s when Fundy heard furious and upset shouting. Fundy squeezed his eyes shut as he knew one of those voices by heart and sure enough, not a moment later Wilbur came bursting through the door.

Wilbur’s heart had dropped the moment he heard about (Y/N) being injured. His little star…He didn’t know what happened, but he sprinted as fast as he could towards the country of Las Nevadas, demanding answers. His little girl had been in a duel…

The other side had been cheap and shot her before they even got to ten. And his daughter, his little star, his (Y/N), had aimed her bow towards the sky. When she made it out of this, he’d let her know how proud he was of her.

Yet, now he stood in the doorway, seeing his daughter barely together, a small bit of blood still collecting around her…

“No!” Wilbur shouted as he rushed over, Fundy moving back to let their father be by her side.

“Dad,” Fundy muttered.

“Is she breathing? Is she going to survive this?” Wilbur looked towards Foolish, who stood quietly at the door, before Wilbur looked at Fundy. “Who did this, Fundy, did you know?”

“Dad.”Wilbur looked at his daughter and took her hand carefully and put his forehead on hers as he teared up. “I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me.”

“My daughter.”Wilbur choked up as he squeezed her hand, Fundy putting a hand over his mouth behind them.

“We played guitar.”

“I taught you guitar.”

“You would put your hands on mine.”

“You changed the melody every time.” Wilbur laughed quietly at the memory as tears were pouring down his cheeks.

“I would always change the line.” (Y/N) muttered as her grip started to weaken.

“Shh, I know, I know.” Wilbur shushed her gently as his grip only went tighter.

“I would always change the line.”

“I know, I know.” He had to keep her awake and talking if she stopped…! “Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.” (Y/N) repeated quietly.

“Good. Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois…” She repeated partially with him before her eyes began to droop then closed.

“Sept-huit-neuf. Sept-huit—” Wilbur pleaded before he let out a sob as she didn’t respond.

Fundy sobbed as well as she was gone…

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

DAY 10 - SALVAGE SHIP THE WRETCHED_

[Communications commence, Boris speaks calmly but sounds tired_] 

Day Ten, salvage ship The Wretched. Yesterday was rough. Mentally and physically_

I’ll try and take it easy again. I don’t feel well_

I keep thinking too hard. I have too much time to think at the moment. Lack of people is getting to me and well… Talking into a recorder just isn’t cutting it for me so much anymore. My mind keeps getting increasingly existential to the point I’ve noticed I’m dissociating for minutes on end. It’s not the oxygen levels either - I’ve been monitoring those more closely since the last two incidents. No this is just… Just me. Going insane_

[Sighing and the sounds of getting up. Boris appears to go through his morning routine with the recorder playing and talking into it as he mills about_]

Space is huge. Like, really huge. It’s so big we’ve barely touched the surface of exploration and navigation. Barely even left our own solar system. The Wretched was a salvage ops ship - basically one big rubbish truck to collect and recycle all the space junk humans have been pitching into the cosmos since 1960. It sits around about eight lightyears out because that’s as far as it has a licence to go. But space? Almost infinitely bigger… Infinitely unknown_

[Pause_]

I brought a copy of H.G Wells to space with me. I can understand the irony of that now but it’s always been a story I can reread over and over. Wells used his experience and knowledge of the colonisation of New Zealand when writing about the Martians invading earth - a means of flipping the position of suffering onto the English people and forcing them to see what it means to be colonised. It’s fascinating, and terrifying. I don’t claim to know what it feels like to be colonised but I can say I know what being hunted down by an unknown alien feels like now. It can survive space, I can’t. I need fancy space suits and a ship with a life support system to live out here_

[Pause_]

So am I just invading its territory? Is that all this is about? Defence? Protecting itself? I get it but… I don’t want to think about it_ 

Shit_

Literal shit_

[Footsteps, Boris swearing and muttering under his breath_]

Oh my fucking god it reeks… This thing wasn’t emptied and I didn’t think and now - oh FUuuUUUuuuuUUUck!_

[An alert bell sounds around Boris as he can be heard frantically clattering about with tools_]

As if things weren’t mentally shit, I now have physical shit to contend with. The fucking sewage has gone. It’s leaking half-rotted sludge that I do not want to think too hard about. Oh fucking god I need that gas mask back on this is worse than the corpses… there.. There it is ah_

[Rustling, Boris’ voice is muffled by the gas mask_] 

I’m going in to fix it!_

[Longer pause. The sound of alerts beeping and loud, echoing bangs from Boris hammering at the silo. A few loud swears and complaints while he works but most is unidentifiable noise because of the gas mask muffling his speech. He eventually returns as the alerts go quiet_]

Fucking shit. The water system better be working because I need a shower badly_ 

[Pause. Boris sighs and starts walking_]

Normally ships just jettison their… Wastage. But no, not the Wretched. Not the “We’re a salvage ship we’re supposed to be recycling space junk not contributing to it” ship. Eco-friendly recycled shit to assist the fuel mixtures. Worst idea ever and whichever biologist or engineer thought of it can catch these shitstained hands someday_

[Pause, sigh_]

I’m going to shower and take the rest of today off_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_