#including perhaps a kid because IT WAS WRITTEN AS A KIDS' BOOK FFS

[archivlibrarianist]

And how does it define "devisive"?

"The city council is debating whether to renew the library’s lease with the city following the library’s refusal to accept a lease clause asking it to remove all material that could be viewed as socially, racially or sexually divisive, including all LGBTQ content."

As usual, it's the old boogeys-- namely, that queer people exist.

This is fascism. This is us. This is the world we have made.

Don't let them win.

[ladylynse]

The Trouble with Ghosts: Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom.

<<  < Part XII [FF | AO3]

-|-

Lancer wasn’t entirely surprised to see that he was missing one of the shrubs on his front lawn. The Shakespeare lawn ornament wouldn’t be salvageable, either; the poor fellow was bent up enough to have written Richard Armour’s Twisted Tales from Shakespeare himself.

Still, he stepped aside to allow Mr. and Mrs. Fenton into his house without a word.

“You said Danny’s safe,” Maddie was saying. “Where is he? What happened? Did he tell you?”

“Did you just find him after he got away from that no-good ghost?” Jack put in. “Did—”

“Danny’s doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances,” Lancer said. “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, might I have a word before you go to visit your son?”

A trace of a frown crossed Maddie’s face. “You mean before we pick him up to take him home.”

“I sincerely hope that to be the case.” He gestured toward his living room, where he’d set out another chair and cleared up most of his books, banishing everything that didn’t fit on the bookshelves out here to his bedroom. He planned to find more permanent homes for them all once these more pressing issues had been addressed—which is to say, he planned to buy and assemble at least one new bookshelf, once he found one that would fit within his remaining wall space. It would be a rather cathartic exercise after all of this. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“If this is about Danny skipping his detention again,” Maddie said slowly as they all settled into their seats, “I’m sure you’d agree that being caught in a ghost attack is a reasonable excuse for his absence, at least in this instance?”

“That ghost scum is determined to attack our family,” Jack added, not bothering to clarify which particular ghost he meant. Lancer dearly hoped he didn’t blame Phantom for all of this.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Fenton, it has come to my attention that your son has a very honourable excuse for all the detentions and classes he has missed.”

“Oh?”

“I’m afraid it’s his right to give you the details, and he’s agreed to do just that.” Under pressure, admittedly, but Lancer couldn’t see how they could do this without the cooperation of the Fentons. Besides that, it wasn’t right for Danny to keep this secret from them when it endangered his life. Were he a parent, he would rather make amends than continue to target his own child. The very idea of allowing this to continue as it had…. It was appalling.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Your son has, shall we say, done a considerable amount of community service. While I cannot merely forgive every failing grade, I do believe that I can ensure that he receives partial credit for his work. I will also speak to my colleagues and see that they are more understanding of his absences, tardiness, and—if you’ll allow me to be quite frank—his inability to remain awake during class. With special allowances, Danny will be able to write makeup tests for those he misses and submit additional assignments for extra credit when need be.”

Maddie’s eyebrows rose, but Jack beat her to the question, saying, “You’d do all that for Danny-boy?”

Lancer spread his hands. “Really, it is the least I can do. I cannot speak for my colleagues, and I’m not sure how much he’ll allow me to share with them, but I do have considerable influence. We all know your son isn’t stupid; we merely had no idea what the problem truly was.”

“And his problem, so to speak, was community service?” There was a touch of hesitation in Maddie’s voice. The barest hint of incredulity. She knew that wasn’t strictly correct, but she couldn’t imagine the truth.

Frankly, Lancer couldn’t blame her. He’d have never dreamed it, either.

“Let’s just call it some rather unconventional extracurricular activities for now, shall we?”

“He was doing that—whatever that is—when the ghost found him,” Jack guessed. “So it’s made him a target of ghosts? And he can’t even carry around an ectogun in school? Are you going to talk to the board? Try to get them to make an exception for those who can prove they know how to use them? They shouldn’t cause more than a mild burn to human skin—”

“The no weapons policy will still include ectoguns,” interrupted Lancer. “At best, I can draft a proposal for your Fenton Thermos—a purely defensive weapon which cannot be used, accidentally or intentionally, against other humans in any way other than a conventional thermos might—but you would have to be prepared to draw up a distribution plan for those thermoses, as well as designated days they can be emptied or traded for empty thermoses. And I’m rather afraid the testing period would be quite extensive; we have no idea how someone might try to modify your thermos to achieve more nefarious effects, and we cannot hand any of our students, however much training they’ve had, a weapon that could be turned on others. Of course, the propriety of your design—”

“Perhaps,” interjected Maddie, “you could keep your proposal to just Danny and Jazz, given their experience and likelihood of being targeted?”

“There would still be no guarantee. Lockers are hardly impenetrable.”

“But they would be more likely to allow it, considering what happened to Danny.” Jack crossed his arms. “Extra activities or not, he was still on school property. At least try.”

Lancer ducked his head, acknowledging their points. “It is certainly something to consider amending—”

“I’ll draft the proposal and submit it to the school board,” Maddie said, “if you’re so reluctant to be associated with it. This is for my children’s protection. Even if it’s first dismissed, I want it discussed.”

She might not be quite so adamant when she realized how those very thermoses could become a detriment to her son, were someone to capture Phantom. True, Lancer didn’t think there were many sympathizers with the various ghost hunting groups that came through town, but Phantom had a lot of fans, and that wasn’t always a good thing.

Still, that was something that could be addressed in the future, and given what he’d learned from Danny, there was something else he wanted to address now. “Speaking of your children’s protection,” he began slowly, not sure if this was his place but not willing to let it go unspoken, “have you made any, ah, more recent safety amendments to your home laboratory?”

Jack and Maddie exchanged guilty looks, and Lancer had his answer before Maddie said, “The kids have their own HAZMAT suits, and they know basic lab safety and first aid.”

“Teenagers often believe themselves to be invincible,” Lancer said dryly, “and cannot always be trusted not to touch what they shouldn’t, even if they know better. Besides which, the safety of your own weapons and prototypes—”

“Danny told you how many of our weapons mistakenly target him?” Jack interrupted. “I’m working it out. I keep trying things. I’m going through them one by one. I’ve eliminated so many—”

“Please,” Lancer cut in, and Jack mercifully fell silent. He’d worried the man would bowl over his words in an attempt to justify what Lancer was beginning to think was a negligence so ingrained it felt normal. “I’ve seen a variety of your weapons. I own a few of your defensive ones. I can only guess how much you have stored in your basement and how dangerous even a handful of those weapons might be. I know it cannot be easy nor lucrative to be inventors, to run your own company, but you need to look into locating your lab somewhere else. It’s not just your safety or that of your children, though I hope that would be reason enough; were something to go catastrophically wrong, you might endanger your neighbourhood. Surely your desire to protect them in the future won’t drive you to continue to compromise their safety now?”

Jack raised a hesitant hand. “Did Danny tell you about changing the ecto-filter on the Fenton Ghost Portal? Because I, ah, might have exaggerated the consequences to get him to do it. More than once.”

Judging by the look on Maddie’s face as Jack said this, Lancer doubted she thought Jack had been exaggerating terribly, and that just made it worse. They were aware of what could go wrong and hadn’t sought to even look at potential properties to continue their research? Money was a factor, it had to be, more so than convenience, and pride might have kept them from asking Vlad, but considering the quality and quantity of weapons they produced, they were making something.

Perhaps, if they reinvested in infrastructure instead of buying new supplies to craft different weapons….

But perhaps that wasn’t what was holding them back at all.

Perhaps it was the ghost portal in their basement.

And the accident that could very well involve it, if Vlad’s had involved its prototype.

It made a cruel bit of sense. If Danny’s accident was indeed tied to the ghost portal, his parents did not know the details. And that meant that they couldn’t know everything that Danny had done with the portal, how he had tweaked their settings or whatever had gone on, and that meant they weren’t sure if they could replicate their results.

And they were afraid that they couldn’t.

Even if they didn’t know the truth, even if they didn’t suspect the truth, they knew there was something they didn’t know, and that had kept them from trying to separate their work and home lives even once safety had become an issue.

“Danny has left me to draw far too many of my own conclusions,” Lancer said slowly, “but he’s told me enough to give me cause for concern.”

Maddie straightened in her seat, recognizing something in his words before her husband. Not the right thing, perhaps, but enough of it. “Surely you don’t think we don’t care for Danny and Jazz?”

“I think you care a great deal indeed,” Lancer said, “but I fear that when it comes to your chosen occupation, you can both be rather…overzealous. To the point of preoccupation.”

“You really believe we care more for our work than for them?” Maddie’s voice was quiet. Cold. Lancer had never heard her angry before. A glance at Jack revealed hurt in his eyes at the thinly veiled accusation, but he held his tongue.

“I think your beliefs about ghosts can be a rather complicating point in your relationship with your children,” Lancer said carefully.

“We care about our kids,” Jack growled, “and we care enough to stop ghosts from doing anything else like this. The Fenton Spectre Deflector—”

“Mr. Fenton, I suspect both your children are more than capable of handling themselves in a ghost fight.” If Jazz knew the truth about Danny, she would have been helping him whenever Sam and Tucker could not—most likely, whether or not he thought he needed that help. She would be involved in more than a few isolated incidents, and she clearly knew the full truth about Vlad. “I do, however, wonder if you’ve ever taken the time to listen to them speak about the subject, or if you’ve simply contented yourselves with lecturing to them.”

“Of course we listen to them.” Maddie got to her feet, and Jack jumped to his as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lancer, but if that’s all you have to say, I’m afraid it can wait until after we’ve taken Danny home. If you would like to have a candid discussion about how Danny’s doing in school or at home, we can set up a conference once we know Danny is safe.”

Lancer didn’t rise from his chair. “I can assure you that is my intention.”

She smiled at him, but though her anger no longer showed in her voice, it came through in the lack of warmth in her expression. “Excellent. We’ll speak with you early next week to arrange a time.”

They didn’t want to listen to him right now.

He hoped that was merely out of concern for Danny and the fact that this conversation was keeping them from their son.

He hoped he hadn’t been wrong.

“Danny is just down the hall. In the bedroom on your left.”

Jack and Maddie murmured polite thank-yous before heading down the hall. Lancer took a few deep breaths but couldn’t steady his nerves. After everything that had happened…. Oh, for the love of The Railway Children, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake, but it was far too late for him to second guess his decisions now. He’d make more tea—he’d happily drink the entire pot himself if no one else wanted any—and then join them. If nothing else, he’d have to apologize to Danny. His conversation with Jack and Maddie had not gone nearly as well as he’d hoped.

-|-

His parents burst into the room, all questions and concern, and Danny was happy he’d only eaten a little; his stomach was twisting enough that he wasn’t sure even that was safe.

Valerie pushed herself up and sat at the foot of the bed, neatly avoiding his parents as they came in with hugs and kisses and more questions.

Too many questions, considering they wouldn’t want to hear the answers.

“Mom, Dad, it’s okay. I’m fine.” A lie. His usual one. Habit. “Mr. Lancer’s been taking good care of me.”

“How long have you been here?” Maddie asked.

“Which ghost took you from the hospital? I’ll tear it apart molecule by mol—”

“It wasn’t a ghost.” If he was going to tell them the truth—and he couldn’t very well chicken out with Valerie right there, which come to think of it was probably the real reason she’d stayed—he might as well start there. “I didn’t…. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I…I asked Mr. Lancer to take me to his place.”

“Sweetie, you know if you’re concerned about ecto-contamination, we’re much better equipped at home than the hospital, and we’d understand—”

“It’s not ecto-contamination.” He bit his lip. “I mean, I don’t…. I don’t think it is. Maybe it is. I just…. It…. That part doesn’t matter anyway. These—” he gestured at his injuries “—didn’t come from a ghost.” They came because I was the ghost. Except he couldn’t make his mouth form those words. “It was an accident.” Everything was an accident, except for the part where Vlad had specifically targeted him. “Phantom—”

“I knew that putrid piece of protoplasm was going to be involved!” Jack exclaimed. “Don’t worry, Danny, when we find him—”

“You don’t have to look for him.” He had to bite his tongue and swallow the urge to follow that statement with lies. Anything to mislead them. “He’s…here.”

“And not responsible,” Valerie said loudly as Jack and Maddie produced various weapons. “For any of this. Trust me, I was there, too. I was just lucky enough to get out of it unscathed.” They turned to her, but she answered their question before they could voice it. “I didn’t see Danny or I would’ve said something. I didn’t realize he was there until later.”

Man, she was good at that. Maybe that’s why she’d gotten away with ghost hunting for so long. He’d always figured her dad was more aware of her activities than his parents were of his.

Of course, now she was looking at him, obviously waiting for him to take what she figured was a golden opportunity.

Why did this have to be so hard?

“I was…hiding.” That wasn’t the right word for it. “I mean, I was there, but Valerie didn’t know I was there. No one knew I was there.” He didn’t know how to start explaining this. All he knew, now that those words were out of his mouth, was that this was not the best start. “She didn’t recognize me.” Was that any better?

“What do you mean, honey?”

Okay, clearly not any better. Why couldn’t he just come out and say it? I’m Danny Phantom. That’s it. That’s all he had to say. Three little words.

They probably wouldn’t shoot him immediately, considering Valerie was in the room.

Her presence should be enough to make them pause long enough to question him, as opposed to the usual ‘shoot first, ask questions never’ policy. They shouldn’t automatically assume that this was a trick of Phantom’s, that he’d developed the ability to shapeshift or something and was trying to pretend to be their son. Even though they already assumed ghosts were out to get them and were willing to use any trick in the book and….

Still. Valerie had taken it well. And his parents had in the past. Granted, they’d been a bit more prepared for it in the past. Somewhat. This wasn’t….

He should just spit it out.

“Do you remember when you first built the portal?” Maybe that was a better place to start.

His parents exchanged glances. “What are you getting at, Danny-boy?”

“My accident. In the lab. When you guys weren’t home, and I convinced you I didn’t need to go to the hospital once you got back. That I’d be fine. That I was fine.” He hesitated, watching as their expressions pulled into confused frowns. “I wouldn’t even have told you if I’d thought you wouldn’t notice we’d been down there. Me and Sam and Tuck, I mean. Because I was…scared.”

“Sweetie, you know you don’t need to be afraid of us. We don’t want you touching our prototypes because we’re not sure they’re safe for everyone else to use yet, and we don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I know. I…. Even though the portal was done, even though it wasn’t working, I just…. It was stupid. We were being…. We weren’t thinking. I mean, I still put on my HAZMAT suit, since I was poking around, but it was…. It wasn’t that I tripped on a cord and caused something to short out and something else to start working, or whatever we told you. I can’t even remember. The thing is, I actually went inside the portal. And then it…turned on. I mean, I…. I hit something. And then it started to work. While I was still inside.”

Silence. Fear on their faces. Concern, more like. His mom had gone white, and his dad put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Danny,” she whispered, “that could have killed you.”

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? It nearly had. Maybe it really had. He still wasn’t even sure what he was. Poindexter had called him a halfa, and Danny had joked about being half ghost, but half ghost wasn’t really a thing. Half dead wasn’t really a thing, either. True, he hadn’t exactly tested the boundaries as far as he could have while Phantom—he still took air with him into space, even though he’d gambled that the cold and the vacuum wouldn’t immediately kill him, but…. Shouldn’t it have? If he was really human at his core?

He hadn’t thought about it at the time.

He hadn’t thought that he might not be able to change back.

Did that mean he really was more a ghost that could pretend to be a human than a human with ghost powers? What he and Vlad did, what Dani could do—was that just an extremely unique ability? Like his ghostly wail? Was that ability what really defined a halfa, just like shapeshifters had a greater control over their form than the average ghost?

Or was it just what Jazz had theorized, some infusion of ectoplasm messing with his DNA? Maybe it was just extreme ecto-contamination that should have killed him but hadn’t. Because of how he’d gotten it.

Just like Vlad.

“I know.” Danny looked away, not wanting to see their faces. He caught sight of Valerie’s horrified expression and turned away from her, too, only to find Lancer at the door. He had no idea how long Lancer had been standing there. He’d never heard the kettle whistling, but Lancer had reset the tray with a tea pot, a box of hot chocolate mix, and an array of empty mugs and spoons. His expression was more of grim acceptance than horror or surprise.

Maybe he’d guessed as much from what Danny had told him earlier.

Maybe he’d just guessed as much because he knew the Fentons pretty well after all those parent-teacher conferences he kept calling, not to mention all the ghost attacks he’d witnessed.

Danny tore his eyes away and stared at his hands instead, knitting his fingers together and breaking them apart and twisting them together again. “The thing is, when I first woke up…. I thought it had. Killed me, I mean. I was…. I was terrified. I wasn’t…. I wasn’t myself.”

He should look at them. Try to read their reactions. Gauge the situation. See if they’d figured it out, so he didn’t have to say it.

But he was afraid he might see something else in their eyes or their expressions. Something he didn’t want to see.

“My reflection wasn’t mine.” He didn’t want to be doing this. Why had he agreed to do this? He could have convinced Lancer to give him a bit more time, surely. Or at least managed to get Jazz here. She’d be good at damage control. She’d anticipate their questions and have answers at the ready, while he…. He wasn’t sure how much he was thinking and how much he was just talking to keep from outright panicking. “The boy in the mirror that looked back at me…. It was Phantom. I’m Phantom.”

He waited for questions.

He waited for denials.

He waited for the telltale whine of any of their myriad of weapons to power up.

Instead, springs creaked and the mattress shifted as his mother sat down on the bed between him and Valerie. Looking up, Danny saw his father sink into the chair Lancer had abandoned earlier. Neither of them said anything.

No one else did, either.

“Sam and Tucker knew from the start, since they were there when it happened,” Danny said into the stretching silence. “Jazz figured it out a long time ago. They’ve been helping me. I…. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I asked them not to say anything. To anyone.”

Maddie reached out and pried one of his hands free, gripping it tightly in her own. Now that he couldn’t go intangible, he wasn’t sure it was a grip he could break and stay free, and for a few panicked milliseconds, he thought she was grabbing him to keep him in one place. He wanted to pull back—had to actively fight the urge to pull back—and wait.

He knew it couldn’t have been a long wait, but it felt like an eon passed before Maddie said, “It doesn’t matter how you told us. It…it matters that you’ve told us.”

He couldn’t read all the emotions in her expression, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t ready to blame Phantom, to call this a trick, to pull him closer and hold an ectogun to his head.

And when his eyes flicked to Jack’s, he saw pride there.

Maybe they believed him after all. Maybe this wasn’t going to go as horribly as he’d imagined. Maybe—

“Breathe, Danny,” came Valerie’s voice, and he remembered to suck in a much-needed breath and relax.

And then he let himself change.

He wasn’t sure if his mother’s flinch was in reaction to the sudden light or the fact that the hand she now held was the gloved one of a ghost she’d long considered an enemy, but it still hurt.

It really, really hurt.

Even if she hadn’t meant it to.

“Danny-boy,” Jack breathed, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered.

Maddie squeezed his hand and glanced back at Jack before saying, “We’re sorry, too, sweetie. For not listening.”

“And for making you afraid to tell us,” Jack added. He got to his feet and wrapped Danny and Maddie in a hug. “We still love you, son. Don’t think we don’t.”

Danny was pretty sure he heard Valerie mumble I told you so under her breath, but he didn’t care. He just hugged them back and let his tears soak into their shoulders.

(see more fics | next)

[tristinai]

Writing Tag Game

Tagged by @mordinette to answer some writer questions. Thank you for including me <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

38

What’s your total AO3 word count?

901 463 words

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Russian Roulette

2. One Shot, Two Shot

3. Bad Boy Down

4. Locked and Loaded

5. What Gangsters Do

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I usually do, though I feel I never have anything interesting to say. However, I’ve gotten into some great conversations with readers <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Before I Go and Ad Perpetuam Memoriam as both strongly imply MCD in their endings. I prefer ambiguous/open-ended endings that strongly lean into angst. Not sure why.  

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Crushing My Pride is a mostly fun, sexy romp about two stubborn women who finally acknowledge their mutual attraction to one another. It does have its angsty moments but I feel the stakes are a lot lower compared to my other fics. 

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Technically, Detroit Become Cyberpunk is a crossover as a few Cyberpunk 2077 characters make an appearance in the fic. I think all of my FF dot Net fics are also crossovers between Disney and Dreamworks. Perhaps the craziest is The Adventures of Marvelous Honeybee and Loup Gris because this is a Disney/Dreamworks crossover set in the Miraculous Ladybug universe in Paris. A crossover in an AU. Fun times. 

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I think I have more than a few hate comments on FF dot net and it’s from people who actively seek out ships they don’t like and leave hateful comments. I don’t get notifications for FF dot Net so I haven’t kept up with my works on there. 

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. I’ve written het, w|w, and m|m smut. Mostly consensual. Some one-shots, others plot-relevant. I’m not really sure what exactly I should be answering for ‘what kind’ XD

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Check out Sir Pawcelot for some of my Bad Decisions fics translated into Russian!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

In high school, I did. I haven’t ever since. 

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Difficult to say. I think I’d surprise everyone by listing Remy/Rogue (X-Men) as my all-time favorite but it’s a pairing I’ve loved since I was a kid and my love for Rogue is what got me into comic books when I was a child. Harley/Ivy also hold a very special place in my heart. 

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a DC comics inspired Tina-centric fic. Tina quits the DPD to become a full-time vigilante and is recruited by the Birds of Prey (led by Chloe) to stop a cat burglar (North) whose been stealing from Detroit’s wealthiest. I think I wrote about 23k before giving up on it. It had Gavin as a major side character, an anti-vigilante detective hellbent on capturing and unmasking Batman (RK900) and some fun moments with playboy billionaire Dick Stern. The ideas are there but the motivation isn’t, especially when I have other writing projects I’ve been working on.

What are your writing strengths?

Narrative, I suppose. Characterization? Not sure. 

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action sequences, dialogue. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I prefer it. If a character is speaking a foreign language, include the line. The reader isn’t supposed to understand it because the character whose perspective you’re writing from doesn’t understand it. I think it adds more to the scene to allow the readers and the characters to be confronted by the same barriers in dialogue. But I’m also someone who’s spent most of my adult life living in countries where English isn’t the main language so coming across foreign languages in fics has never bothered me. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Digimon

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I am not sure. Maybe Icarus Ascending

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello CorvusDraconis and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you so much for sitting down with us to chat.

You’re a well known and beloved figure in the SS/HG community for your many stories - including a personal favourite of mine, A chance for happiness.

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? 

I have always had a fascination for the shiny things and the Northwest Coast depictions of Raven the Trickster/Creator, and, I tend to hoard (and get super protective) of my art supplies. Corvids have always been a positive sign in my life. They tend to show up when I’m feeling down and engage in funny antics in the yard. As for dragons, I’ve always had a love for them and think the Western depiction of them as dangerous beasts with no mind but for hoarding treasure and killing people only to be slain by a knight quite despicable. 

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Severus, actually. I see a lot of my life in his. Hardships, challenges, bullying— trying to be something better and later wondering about unwise decisions. I have a very similar dislike for dunderheads, but I do not share his inclination to denude rosebushes of their petals. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) I have always preferred fantasy and sci-fi. 

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

I am not sure if you would call it a classic novel, but grew up on all things Tolkien (and even puzzled through the Silmarillion at the grand age of seven), and have a special place in my heart for Watership Down. While I’ve read pieces like War and Peace, Iliad, Ulysses, Pride and Prejudice, Grapes of Wrath, Moby Dick, Great Gatsby, Little Women, Catcher in the Rye, Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn, Scarlet Letter, Don Quixote, To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm, Jane Eyre, Lord of the Flies, Tale of Two Cities, Heart of Darkness, Robinson Crusoe, Alice in Wonderland, Great Expectations, Odyssey, Frankenstein, Dracula, Crime and Punishment, Heart of Darkness, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Anne of Green Gables, Les Misérables, Peter Pan, Gulliver’s Travels, all things Jack London, 20000 Leagues, etc.— they never captured me as aptly as Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern or Mercedes Lackley’s the Last Herald Mage. Though, if I were to pick classic stories I read more than once (litmus test for things I like) it would be things such as The Secret Garden, Call of the Wild, Wild Fang, The Hobbit, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,  and The Last Unicorn. At what age did you start writing? The moment I could pick up pencil and paper, I was writing. I had notepads full of stories I wrote as a kid. Alas, my dad found them one day when I was off to college, made fun of them, and I came home and burned every single one in mortification.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

The moment TV shows did “stupid things” to their characters. I used to write things about Beauty and the Beast (the old CBS show) when they killed off the main character, Knight Rider, Robocop, Transformers— there are probably far more that I just don’t remember now. I was writing it long before there was a fanfiction dot net or a term to even call it. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? I am a shameless romantic for the beauty within and sometimes the quite literal love for a monster (not just some person who acts like a monster and changes into a better person.) The misunderstood monster is perhaps my most favourite theme, and it shows up in my stories often if not always. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I ship SessKag from Inuyasha, Lucard/Sophie from Dracula: The Series, and Loki/Hermione when I’m feeling crossover-y. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Other than my favourite fanon that Severus lives/survives/finds a better life free of two masters and his guilt, I would say I would want Harry to wise the heck up and realise his father was a swine, his godfather was an almost successful murderer that used his own best mate to try and kill off another student, and his mother wasn’t all that hot either. I would want him to find value in himself without having to make stuff up about his “perfect” parents. Then again, I would want Vernon/Petunia to be arrested for child abuse and put in gaol, but— then the story would have been very different XD Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?  Sometimes quiet, sometimes music. But usually, I am best mates with Spotify.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

In the HP universe: I honestly don’t read many of them because I’m always writing my own stuff XD, but when I really feel like I need a good Ron bashing SSHG HEA, I read just about anything by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse. However, that being said, I often return to “The Sun is Often Out” by Hannah-1888 for just the right amount of angst and HEA to make me happy.

In the Inuyasha universe: A Trick of Fate by PristinelyUngifted

In the Marvel universe:  Mutual Respect Sends His Regrets by moor

In the Star Trek universe:  Gratified By Your Company by starfleetdream

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I go by the seat of my feathered rump, to be honest. Inspiration is a fickle, unpredictable beast, and I usually don’t know what is going to happen until it does.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Fantasy

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Chance of Happiness because it was my very first publication. It may not have been my best, but it was my first, and it very well could have been my last yet somehow wasn’t.

Looks Can Be Deceiving and One Step Forward, Two Decades Back are two epic tales that seemed to demand being written. The fact I finished them was something I think deserves a little pride.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Looks started off with me attempted to write Dramione just once. It failed. Draco demanded to be her brother of the heart, Viktor came in and said “nope she’s mine,” and no one was more surprised at the outcome of that story than me. The characters did what THEY wanted.

I learned that trying to plan a story from start to finish is useless when the characters decide what they want. The story demanded more, and I was just a conduit that typed it down. For me, at least, attempting to outline and plan is utterly useless

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

I think every story I write is personal in some way. The inspiration comes from somewhere inside, and I often have no idea what it is until I go back and read it later. I think the story wrote itself in a lot of ways, which made it easier in a way, but there are a lot of things I can’t say were from personal experience because as a high fantasy of talking gryphons and such I can only imagine it. There is no basis in real life on how any of that would go down. There is a freedom in that but also many challenges in making it real enough to identify with despite how alien and fantastic the idea is.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

Dragonriders of Pern introduced sentient dragons and the idea that despite a vast difference in species there could be teamwork and love between the two as they teamed up against a greater threat.

The herald-mage books by Mercedes Lackley were also important staples in my childhood because it impressed the values of responsibility despite having powers others did not, and that people were fallible despite greatness and potential.

Gandalara Cycle by Randall Garrett and Vicki Ann Heydron: I cannot tell you how often I read this story. I had dog ears on these novels because there was so much I loved about them. It was a search for humanity when displaced in a seemingly alien world, societal clashes, and the great sha’um (the giant rideable cats) that were the main characters’ partners for life.  

 The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede: A princess rebels against her arranged marriage by running away to be a dragon princess.

All of these books had creatures in it that chose to partner with a human and be with them for life, not as lovers that you find in the more modern supernatural romance blender out there, but the ultimate friend for life— the family you choose.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Oh heck no. Hah. They have their secrets, and I have mine. Personally, I think mine are more healthy than theirs.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? 

Very.

I write for myself. Sometimes I’ll write a story for one of my betas or a sshg friend, but for the most part, I write for my own entertainment because nothing like what I write is out there. There is a lot of SSHG out there, but mine is almost always a creature feature story. I blame X-Files growing up. It tickles me that others enjoy my stories, but in the end I write to get things down and out of my head. They just so happen to entertain others as they do me.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I will often engage in A/N talk at the end of chapters, but I really don’t engage in the fandom. I loathe social media. That being said, I read every review, and while I don’t reply to everything because FF dot net is a horrible platform for messaging anymore (or ever was really)-- I appreciate every single one. Sometimes it helps to know people are enjoying the story for the story’s sake.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Get a beta, even if you are pretty good at writing. Get one because a second pair of eyes will catch things you don’t. Read your own stuff out loud. If you trip over it, your audience will too. If you stumble, so will they.

Get a beta who isn’t afraid to tell you that your shite stinks in places and you make no sense. You may want a cheerleader, but what you need is a beta. If you are super lucky, you can have both at once.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I play computer games and sew things. I’ve sewn a lot of things lately. Scrub caps and masks for work— 

There has been a lot of writer’s block lately due to the times, and I will not write when I’m uninspired. I will not force inspiration. That’s not fair to me or those unfortunate enough to share in the reading. I want to be able to go back on a story I wrote and enjoy it and not curse at myself. XD

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Sometimes certain catch phrases and things from real life friends have trickled in as a sort of Easter egg (unbeknownst to them since I don’t tell them I write fanfic). Sometimes random news stories or whatnot find their way in. Lessons of the day. Random events. Things that are too odd not to stick in my brain somehow. I can’t say I always do it on purpose, though.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

No, I have a goal this year to finish off the unfinished stories. This is made harder because Dragon and the Rose keeps adding more and more bunnies into the idea bin, and my brain wants to run with them, but I’m like NO DANGIT, I HAVE STUFF TO FINISH STILL!  It’s a hard thing trying to finish what you start when so much interesting stuff pops up and waves at you like “heeeeeyyyyy I’m cool too!”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Keep writing but remember you can always be better. You can always improve.  Writing isn’t a popularity contest. It isn’t about how many reviews you get or how many fans you may or may not have. Write because you want to write. Write what you like not what other people like. Write for you because in the end, you are the one who goes back to read it and say “I wrote this story, and I still love it” instead of forcing yourself to write something just because the topic is “popular” and gets a lot of visitors. Write something you’ll be proud to go back and read and enjoy. You’ll find when you write something genuinely, readers will come. And if only one person leaves you a paragraph review on how much your story meant to them out of someone else’s hundreds of  “great!” (with nothing else)-- think of what you value more.

If my story helped someone through a dark time.

Just one person—

Then it was a good effort.

Maybe that person didn’t have the bravery to leave a message. Maybe they are ashamed. Maybe they send you a PM instead of a review.

That is, to me, the ultimate reason why I realised that despite writing stories for myself that there are people out there that needed to hear my story at just the right time in their life. If my story can bring a little joy to someone else, then it doesn’t matter how many reviews I have. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have thousands of reviews like “that other author.” What matters is that I told my story; someone out there read it and it spoke to them.

I love hearing from people and what they liked about my stories, but I also am glad that there are some people out there who secretly like my stories but do not feel safe enough to review.

So, I would say to the aspiring author: write for yourself but share it. You never know whose day you will make with your story. They may never tell you. They may tell you years later (happened to me!). There is a good chance that someone out there needs your story as much as you need to write it. That being said, find yourself a beta to share your journey with you. You may find a few friend in the process.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

You are quite welcome.

[theculturedmarxist]

Should We Have War Crimes Trials?

By Neil Sheehan

(https://msuweb.montclair.edu/~furrg/Vietnam/sheehanwarcrimesnyt71.pdf)

The New York Times Book Review March 28, 1971, pp. BR1 ff.

“The tragic story of Vietnam is not, in truth, a tale of malevolent men bent upon conquest for personal gain or imperial glory. It is the story of an entire generation of leaders (and an entire generation of followers) so conditioned by the tensions of the cold war years that they were unable to perceive in 1965 (and later) that the Communist adversary was no longer a monolith . . . Lyndon Johnson, though disturbingly volatile, was not in his worst moments an evil man in the Hitlerian sense . . . Set against these facts, the easy designation of individuals as deliberate or imputed ‘war criminals’ is shockingly glib, even if one allows for the inexperience of the young.” -- Townsend Hoopes, the former Under Secretary of the Air Force, January, 1970.

Is the accusation glib? Or is it too unpleasant to think about? Do you have to be Hitlerian to be a war criminal? Or can you qualify as a well-intentioned President of the United States? Even when I saw those signs during the March on the Pentagon in 1967, “Hey, Hey L.B.J. How many kids did you kill today?” they didn’t make me think that Lyndon Johnson, the President of the United States, might be a war criminal. A misguided man perhaps, an egomaniac at worst, but not a war criminal. That would have been just too much. Kids do get killed in war. Besides, I’d never read the laws governing the conduct of war, although I had watched the war for three years in Vietnam and had written about it for five. Apparently, a lot of the men in Saigon and Washington who were directing the war didn’t read those laws either, or if they did, they interpreted them rather loosely. Now a lot of other people are examining our behavior in Vietnam in the light of these laws. Mark Sacharoff, an assistant professor of English at Temple University, has gathered their work together into this bibliography. By this simple act he has significantly widened our consciousness. If you credit as factual only a fraction of the information assembled here about what happened in Vietnam, and if you apply the laws of war to American conduct there, then the leaders of the United States for the past six years at least, including the incumbent President, Richard Milhous Nixon, may well be guilty of war crimes.

There is the stuff of five Dreyfus affairs in that thought. This is what makes the growing literature on alleged war crimes in Vietnam so important. This bibliography represents the beginning of what promises to be a long and painful inquest into what we are doing in Southeast Asia. The more perspective we gain on our behavior, the uglier our conduct appears. At first it had seemed unfortunate and sad we were caught in the quicksand of Indochina. Then our conduct had appeared stupid and brutal, the quagmire was of our own making, the Vietnamese were the victims and we were the executioners. Now we’re finding out that we may have taken life, not merely as cruel and stubborn warriors, but as criminals. We are conditioned as a nation to believe that only our enemies commit war crimes. Certainly the enemy in Indochina has perpetrated crimes. The enemy’s war crimes, however, will not wash us clean if we too are war criminals.

What are the laws of war? One learns that there is a whole body of such laws, ranging from specific military regulations like the Army’s Field Manual 27-10, “The Law of Land Warfare,” to the provisions of the Hague and Geneva Conventions, which are United Slates law by virtue of Senate ratification, to the broad principles laid down by the Nuremberg and Tokyo war crimes tribunals. These laws say that all is not fair in war, that there are limits to what belligerent man may do to mankind. As the Hague Convention of 1907 put it, “The right of belligerents to adopt means of injuring the enemy is not unlimited.” In other words, some acts in war are illegal and they aren’t all as obviously illegal as the massacre of several hundred Vietnamese villagers at Mylai. Let’s take a look at our conduct in Vietnam through the viewing glass of these laws. The Army Field Manual says that it is illegal to attack hospitals. We routinely bombed and shelled them. The destruction of Vietcong and North Vietnamese Army Hospitals in the South Vietnamese countryside was announced at the daily press briefings, the Five o’Clock Follies, by American military spokesmen in Saigon.

So somebody may have committed a war crime in attacking those hospitals. The Manual also says that a military commander acquires responsibility for war crimes if he knows they are being committed, “or should have knowledge, through reports received by him or through other means,” and he fails to take action to stop them. President Johnson kept two wire-service teletypes in his office and he read the newspapers like a bear. There are thus grounds for believing that he may have known his Air Force and artillery were blowing up enemy hospitals. He was the Commander in Chief. Did his knowledge make him a war criminal? The Army Manual says that “every violation of the law of war is a war crime.”

Let’s proceed to one of the basic tactics the United States used to prosecute the war in South Vietnam -unrestricted air and artillery bombardments of peasant hamlets. Since 1965, a minimum of 150,000 Vietnamese civilians, an average of 68 men, women and children every day for the past six years, have been killed in the south by American military action or by weapons supplied to the Saigon forces by the United States. Another 350,000 Vietnamese civilians have been wounded or permanently maimed. This is a very conservative estimate. It is based on official figures assembled by Senator Edward M. Kennedy’s Senate Subcommittee on Refugees and on a study for the Subcommittee by those eminent government auditors, the General Accounting Office. The real toll may be much higher. This conservative attitude makes the documentation put together by the Senator and his staff aides, Jerry Tinker and Dale S. de Haan. among the most impressive in the bibliography. Many, perhaps the majority, of those half million civilian casualties were caused by the air and artillery bombardments of peasant hamlets authorized by the American military and civilian leaders in Saigon and Washington.

The United States Government tried and hanged in 1946 a Japanese general, Tomoyuki Yamashita, because he was held responsible for the deaths of more than 25,000 noncombatants killed by his troops in the Philippines.

Can a moral and legal distinction be drawn between those killings in World War II, for which General Yamashita paid with his life, and the civilian deaths ordered or condoned by American leaders during the Vietnam War? Again, if you accept only a portion of the evidence presented in this bibliography, and compare that evidence to the laws of war, the probable answer is, No. And President Nixon has spread this unrestricted bombing through Laos and Cambodia, killing and wounding unknown tens of thousands of civilians in those countries.

...

continued

[moquall]

Dissidia Final Fantasy : SECRETUM～秘密～ (Part 1 / 2)

P.S : If you have seen a similiar post before, yes,  I actually posted this one but i was stupid.. accidentally delete it because an error from my mobile browser ==“.  I got the copy of this DVD in May 2018 and wanted to post it in August 2018 but i’m really sorry, I don’t have much free time since i need to focus on my thesis ==“ . Sorry for keep promising to post as soon as possible.

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I dont know if you’re interested  but anyone remember SECRETUM ～秘密～ ?

This one is the official DVD and Bluray cover but i personally like the cover of the pamphlet that used in ffwikia and the premium edition cover that nomura drew :(

It’s DISSIDIA NT Special Live reading event held in December 18th - December 19th 2017, which is also part of FF 30th anniversary starring the Japanese voice actors of the casts.

From left to right : yuuki ono (amnesiac man), masakazu morita (tidus), toshiyuki morikawa (sephiroth), hideo ishikawa (squall), takahiro sakurai (cloud)

I posted some point i’ve collected before, but i am sorry i did a lot of mistake. Now i have the DVD version, so i want to share what really happened in this live reading event since no one talking about this, or more like people forget about this event -_-”

Let me remind you before you read,

First, I don’t have the script which is a part of the premium edition so i need to rely on my listening skill and there are a possibility i misheard something.

Second, I understand Japanese though it’s not 100%.

Third, my english skill is so bad so i’m sorry if I translated it wrongly and see a lot of grammar mistake .. so let me know if you see mistranslated and grammar mistake._.

Fourth, I actually uploaded this live reading somewhere so if you’re interested, i can give you the link but please ask me privately and do not redistribute it elsewhere. P.S : It’s in Japanese and of course no english version and english sub

FIFTH, IT’S A VERY LONG POST, a total of 8 act and some dialogues, so i decided to divide it into 2 parts. 

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The story start with Morikawa-san and Sakurai-san as the narrator, introduce a little bit about what fantasy is and then continue narrating about Phantom Train from Final Fantasy VI. When the Phantom Train was on the Rift, on the way to send the dead to the afterlife, One of the souls broke the window and escaped. When he jumped out, this soul was illuminated by the light and falling off the train, just like a shooting stars. And then the scene switch to our three heroes.

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ACT 1

Somewhere in NT world (or i think you call it “World B”), the Weather Trio (Squall, Tidus and Cloud) who were under Materia’s request are on their way to investigate a mysterious light that fell into World B. Squall complained why he is doing this but Tidus said it can’t be helped since it’s Materia’s request and Cloud add it will be a trouble if they didnt help her so Squall decided to think it as a “mission” .

Tidus : But aren't you excited to pick up the shooting star ? Squall & Cloud : Whatever.. // Not interested (in the same time) Tidus : Oh okay... (silence) Tidus : What is this ?! a moment of silence ?! or a trial ? ... Hey, Cloud- Cloud : It seems we are closer to the fading point Tidus : Is that so ? Squall : Yeah, If the goddess's words are true, It's must not that far. Cloud : I'm happy for you, Tidus. the 'trial' will be over. Tidus : You sure have a good ear Squall : It's on the east. Let's go. Cloud : Yeah. Tidus : Roger.

And Squall's first monologue start.

“We all are not from this world. Because our origins are different, Cloud and Tidus are actually not the people whom i supposed to meet. At first we were forcibly summoned, forced to fight, couldn’t even escape and it was the worst situation. But as we keep continue fighting, I started to think I’m glad to be involved in this war with them and I can’t believe we meet again. This is not bad at all.”

Tidus asked the true form of the mysterious light. Cloud assumed since Materia said the light is a powerful source, it is probably a Summon while Squall doesn’t really care about it .When they reach their destination, They didn’t see anything or even feel a summon’s presence so Cloud thought Materia gave the wrong directions and just when they are going to return, they heard someone’s voice and what they found is a man.

Tidus : Ew.. He is dead.. Squall : A corpse won't speak Tidus : So he is just sleeping. Hey !! Are you okay ? The man : Ugh.. Squall : does he has any injury ? Tidus : No, it doesn't Cloud : Looks like it's not a summon Tidus : But isn't amazing ? falling from the sky and uninjured. The man : Sum...mon... Tidus : Oh, he woke up. The man : Where am i ? Tidus : Hmm.. I don't know how to explain.. Cloud : Perhaps this is not the world where you lived. The man : Huh ?

They asked the man's about his origin but the man doesn’t remember anything including his name so they came up with conclusion he has amnesia just like what happened in previous war. (Cosmos & Chaos war)

Tidus told him when the first time they were summoned to this world (he mean during cosmos-chaos war), their memories were hazzy and the man shouldn’t be worry because they are his allies, but Squall refused the call him “ally” because a warrior can’t fall from the sky and Materia wouldn’t say it as the powerful resource. Tidus and Squall start debating but Cloud stopped them. The amnesiac man thanked Tidus for his welcoming but also understand why Squall being so cautious. He want to know who is he and then ask Cloud what he should do and Cloud suggested to bring him and report to Materia. Cloud monologue’s start.

“We brought the man to the goddess’s tower and explained we found him instead of the mysterious light but our investigation is not over unless we bring back the powerful resources she sought and prove if there is abnormal thing or not. And we know nothing about this man’s identity. She said “i didn’t summon him”. Materia, the goddess who summoned us to this world is a novice god and not reliable.” 

The four back to their starting point. The man ask the weather trio if he can join them and Tidus is happily accept him because he need someone he can talk with. The man promised to Squall he is not going to slow them down. Squall replied “whatever” and again, Squall’s inner monologue start.

“I want to think he is not our enemy but i have bad feeling since the goddess doesn’t know at all about him. Moreover, if a greater power is approaching, there is a possibility he is the one who summoned it. 'You must imagine the worst possible scenario'. That's what they taught to me.”

———————————————————————

Since this man has an amnesia, Tidus suggested to give him a nickname. He told the man some of their allies has a nickname like horned helmet (warrior of light) and onion kid (onion knight). Cloud stopped Tidus for coming up with weird nickname and The man thought a nickname based on their characteristic doesn’t suit him.

Tidus : You’ll understand when you see them ! But your clothes looks normal.. The man : Okay.. Sounds risky if i leave this to you. so, Squall, Have any idea ? Squall : ... <- (thinking) The man : Squall ? Squall : ... The man : SQUALL ?! HEY SQUALL ?! You have an idea, right ? Squall : ... The man : Squall ? Squall !! Squall !! Squa--!! Squall : JOOOHHHHHHNNNNNNN !! The man : Eh ? Huh ? Squall : John...

Squall explained he heard “John” is a name that used as an alias and the man is okay with that so they decided to call him John until he remember his name. The four then continue their investigation and again.. Squall’s inner monologue start.

“John Doe, It is a name given to unidentified corpse. It was written on the book i read before. If i abbreviate it to ‘John’, I am sure he will never know the real meaning”.

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ACT 2

The four now is in Alexandria. John asked why he didn't see people at all and Tidus explained it looks like the real one but this place is created by the gods and used somewhat as an “arena” for the conflict so nobody lives here yet .

John : A conflict and a match, huh ? Is Materia run an arena ? Tidus : Yeah ! And we fight on her place. John : eh ? with who? Tidus : with other warriors. I also fight Cloud and Squall. John : Are they the enemy ? Tidus : Hmm.. I think they 'turned into enemy side' a lot lately. John : Huh ? What about the audience ? Tidus : No, everyone participate in this conflict. John : And what's the point of doing that? Tidus : Hmm.. If they fight here, this world will be lively. John : But no one is watching, right ? Tidus : That's not what I mean 'lively' . John : Huh?? Hmm.. I'm confused Tidus : Yeah, me too.

Squall and Cloud who are done with their investigation join them. John commented they sure went through a lot fighting in the battle between the gods but Squall think it’s a part of mission and while Cloud think as an easy job which left Tidus surprised since he really enjoyed it. John thought they are willing to participate in the battle that probably risk their life and Tidus replied the battle looks more like a sports match (he actually wanted to said blitzball) and assured John could fight with the knife in his waist like one of ‘thief’ friend, Zidane. John then explained when the first time he look at this place, he said there is so much blind spot to hide which left Tidus wonder who John is.

They decided to go to another place. Tidus asked why Squall being unfriendly with John and He replied they know nothing about John and advised not to be so friendly but Tidus doesn’t care with that because he can’t leave him alone. Squall let out a sigh and told him to do whatever he want and then Tidus’s monologue start. 

“It’s a story about my homeworld. When i came from Zanarkand to Spira, i was puzzled and feeling anxious. But I am very happy when they treated me with kindness that time. That’s why i cant leave John alone.”

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They arrived in Cornelia Plains and fight some of manikins there. Squall asked where John is and Tidus answered he told John to hide under the hill to watch them fight but he is nowhere to be seen and suddenly John who is on a tree called and told them it’s a best place to hide and see how the battle progress. John asked if that zombie-like creature is their enemy and a part of the abnormal things but Tidus replied its’ an enemy from the previous war but they didn’t appear as much as before. Squall offered to investigate alone. John jokes Squall doesn’t trust him but Squall replied it “It’ll be a trouble if you hide your presence like before.”

Tidus and Cloud then explained the abnormal things they look for is something more powerful than manikins and they assumed it's a summon which something like a mythical beast, spirit or guardian deity of this world. John feels like he heard about summon before and trying to remember it but no luck and that time Squall is back and reported he didn’t find anything.

John : You sure you didn���t see anything ? Squall : What do you mean ? John : You didn’t let me to investigate alone because you’re hiding about summon, right ? Please. Tell me truth ! I’m sure It’s important to me. Squall : Who is hiding it ? Tidus : Squall, please... Squall : You’re not the only one who came here recently but Y’shtola and Noctis remember everything about their origins. Tidus : Ah ?! John : Again.. another name I never heard. Squall : I see… I don’t know where you got the info but the warriors suffering from amnesia is happened a long time ago. John : You think I pretending I have an amnesia ? For what ? Squall : It’ll be easy for you to collect information. Cloud : Stop it ! There is no end for this argument. Squall & John : ... Cloud : Let’s go to the other place

John decided to leave the party to find the clues about his memories because what Squall said make sense and since he doesn’t have his memories there is a possibility he is their enemy. Tidus tried to stop him and assured he is not an enemy and doesn’t look like it, like the arrogant man with golden armor (Emperor Mateus) or the one who seek the power of void (Exdeath). John thanked Tidus and left. Tidus then confront Squall and he answered if he is enemy’s spy, he would not leave them and explained..

Squall : Up till now, I don't have a proof he is not our enemy. But we will be killed if he suddenly attack us while hiding his presence like before. That's why I can't lower my guard. Tidus : Oh.. You're worried about us ? ...Sorry for thinking you're stubborn and troublesome. Squall : Stubborn ?! Tidus : Sorry.. Cloud : Let's continue our investigation Tidus : But I'm worried about John. Cloud : Are you going to find him ? Tidus : I want him to rejoin the party because i trust him. Are you okay with that, Squall ? Squall : Yeah... Tidus : Okay ! LET'S GO !

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Some time passed after John left the party and now he is in the Floating Continent . He saw a lot of manikins roaming around the meadow but since he is not familiar with this area, walking alone will be tough. The fog is getting thicker and the manikins doesn’t even leave the area which left him with no choice to fight but just when he is ready to attack, Cloud and Squall come to help him. John wondered why the two are here and Tidus come and said it’s obvious they are coming to help their friend and encouraged him to fight together.

Cloud : Glad we made it. John : You’re coming to run after me ? Tidus : Yeah ! We all wanted to go together. John : We all ? Tidus : Right, Squall ? Squall : …For now John : (chuckle) For now, huh..

Tidus said even their objective are different, he want the four as a party and John replied he is okay with that since going alone to find the clues is difficult. John thanked Squall for helping him and Squall said “Whatever..”. Cloud then encouraged him “If you don’t know who you are, You can believe on yourself.” the four continue their journey and the scene switch to John’s inner monologue.

“Even though I have no clues about who I am, I started to feel that I’m different with them. When my memories returned and know my true identity, I hope I’m not their enemy. That’s what I believe for now.”

———————————————————————

Meanwhile, there was a commotion in the Phantom Train after one of the soul escaped. While the souls are talking about this, a man in black cloak is sitting alone at the corner, looking at where the soul fall which is dissidia world from the train’s window. And then this man started to lament.

“Aah… The treasure I keep is gone. The one who escaped this train stole it. If I have the treasure, I can take you all to the paradise. Please.. lend me your hand. Shake the Phantom Train and make it fall into the real world. Take the treasure back from the insolent thief.”

“If we have the treasure, we can go to the ‘paradise’ “ . Those words are enough to instigate the souls scared with the hell. The souls believe those words and made the Phantom Train derailed and go to dissidia world instead. While the souls were absorbed with the treasure to revive the dead which is unknown if it is really exist or not, No one realize the man in black cloak is nowhere to be seen.

——————————————————-

ACT 3

The four had check every place but they found nothing. Tidus complained Materia fooled them but Cloud and Squall sense something bad and they saw a train in the sky.

Tidus : WOAAAH !! The train is coming here !! Cloud : It won’t crashed here. Tidus : Why are you so calm ? We will be died if it crashed here. (The train crashed) Squall : Calm down. Tidus : DON’T SAY AFTER IT CRASHED !

They wondered if it’s a part of the abnormal thing and the area is suddenly surrounded by the smoke. John suddenly felt a pain, said he heard a voices which make his head hurts and passed out after that. The trio wondered if the smoke affect him since they don’t feel anything.

Tidus : The voices John has heard.. Who is it ? .. Huh ? Cloud : It’ll be dangerous if we get close to it. Squall : Yeah.. Let’s go back to previous place Cloud : Right. We need to let John rest. Tidus : Yeah.. yeah. Wait ! Wait a minute. Squall : What ? Tidus : No.. it’s nothing. Nevermind. Squall : What do you mean ? Tidus : Hehe.. Your voices are similiar Squall : Huh?

"What I heard is a song to soothe the souls of the dead in my world and a voice of the old man i know. I kinda get a clue what the train is so I am not scared anymore when i noticed it. Well, because I'm kinda similiar to them."

Tidus laughed, enough to make Squall confused and asked if he look like with someone. Tidus then decided to investigate the train alone but stopped by Cloud and Squall. He assured it will be quick and told them he is not ‘alone’. Just when Cloud and Squall is going to carry John back to the previous place, “One winged Angel” plays and Sephiroth came, told them to hand John to him or die instead . Cloud refused but Sephiroth explained John is the man who escaped the train carrying the dead and got revived. Cloud fight him and told Squall to escape and take John somewhere.

"Is it John who caused this ? or Sephiroth’s plotted it ? What did Tidus noticed ? I don’t know but my role is obvious. I’ll stop Sephiroth !"

TO BE CONTINUED ON PART 2

[justanoutlawfic]

What Christmas Means To Me: A Daddy Charming Fic

For Day 9 of @charmingfamilychristmas. Inspired by this LL Bean Christmas commercial, which includes the actor that played the Baby!Charming Twins. Basically, parallels Emma and David’s childhoods. Lots of angst.

Also on AO3/FF

David

 Ruth didn’t know what she was going to do. Robert would often go on benders, but this was different. He would’ve been home by then and besides, he had promised he would give up drinking. She had believed him, she had seen the look in his eyes. He wanted to reunite their family, become a better man, the one he had been before they were forced to give James up.

 Now it was Christmas Morning and he was nowhere to be found. He had been due home days prior and she had no word from him. On top of her worry, there was the fact that he was due to bring home presents for David. They couldn’t afford to spoil him on the holiday, but there were always at least a few small things. She had thought, perhaps, Robert was going to surprise them, but she was losing hope.

 Looking around frantically, she tried to come up with some things she could quickly wrap. David still believed in Father Christmas and she wanted that to stick. She found a pair of his socks she was due to wash and one of Robert’s books. She hoped that her son wouldn’t recognize them, that she could still make Christmas magical for him.

 After quickly wrapping them in some spare sacks, she rushed out into the main room. Her heart stopped when she found David standing there in his pajamas, staring at their tiny tree, with no presents beneath it. The look upon his face was one she had never seen before. He knew they were poor, he knew better than to ask for anything. Yet, Christmas was the one time of year he got a little something, at least a small toy to play with. The disappointment mixed with hurt written all over the 5-year-old was enough to make Ruth want to cry.

“David,” she said, rushing over to him. He looked up at her, his face not changing. “Look, Father Christmas must have missed the tree!” She held up the items. “He left them in my room.”

 David stared at his mother, blinking a bit. He knew when his parents were lying to him and despite his mother’s best efforts, he knew just what was going on. Father Christmas wasn’t real. His father must have been in charge of the presents and since he was late-probably sick again-there were none that year.

 He forced a small smile on his face. His mother was trying, he would have to as well. “Thank you, Mother,” he whispered.

The smile didn’t match his eyes and the one Ruth plastered on didn’t either. “You open your presents, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

 Emma

It was her first Christmas since she had been taken out of the Smith’s. She still didn’t quite understand what had happened. By now she knew that she wasn’t their daughter, but still, why would they give her up? It was a bit too much for the 4-year-old to understand. For the past few months, she had been staying with the Johnsons. They weren’t the nicest people, not as warm as her parents had been. They didn’t read her bedtime stories and sometimes they forgot to give her food. They had even forgotten her birthday, Emma only remembered because her social worker had come by with a small card for her.

 But Christmas was different, in the 4-year-old’s mind. The house had been decorated from top to bottom, there was even a tree. Ben and Kate’s children seemed to be super excited about Santa coming, so Emma was too.

 Christmas Morning, she hopped out of the bunk bed she shared with the other foster child that was living in the house and ran down the stairs. There were tons of presents under the tree and they moved closer, trying to find ones with their names on them. However, the harder they looked, the more they realized that there were none. Emma bit her lip, walking over to Ben.

 “Where’s my presents?”

Ben laughed, bitterly. “The presents are for our real children.”

“Santa brings presents to every child,” she said, softly.

“That would be if Santa was real.” He rolled his eyes. “Your present is that you get to spend one more day in his house, despite my better judgement.”

 Emma felt tears gather in her eyes. Looking around the room, she saw pictures of her foster family’s biological children. She would never belong, she would never be a part of any family. The fact was, she was just the unwanted bonus kid.

 The lump of coal forced down everybody’s throats.

 Together

David loved his wife. They were true love and they agreed on most things, they understood each other better than anyone else in the world.

 Even so, she didn’t get what a big deal Christmas was to him. She found it sweet that he had such a big heart and wanted to make sure everyone had an amazing Christmas. He’d always adopt a few less fortunate families and spend just as much as he would on his own family. Money was no object, obviously, and he never wanted anyone to go through what he did. Even so, she still made light jokes whenever he’d get yet another gift for Emma or Neal. She spoiled them just as much as he did and she obviously meant no harm, she just didn’t get it.

 Frankly, David was glad she didn’t. His wife had been raised a princess. She didn’t know the pain that he did. While she had been a bandit and learned the harsh realities of the world, as a child, she had good Christmases. He had heard stories of lovely meals and loads of presents under the tree. She even had a few good memories from when Regina was her step-mother. He didn’t want anyone to feel how he had as a child.

 Little did he realize, one of his own had gone through similar events that he had.

 It all came to light when he ran out of places to stash Neal’s toys. He headed up to Emma’s room and opened her closet. He was shocked to find that it was stuffed to the brim with messily wrapped presents and gift bags.

 “Trying to find your Christmas present?” She teased from the doorway. David turned around, chuckling a bit. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hide yours in there. Those are all Henry’s.”

“No, I just ran out of places to hide Neal’s,” he said. “Though, now that I see your stash for Henry alone, I wonder if we’ll have any room left under the tree at all.”

Emma shrugged. “It’s a big tree. Though, Mom said the same thing.”

“She’s been teasing you too?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Sometimes I forget that even though she was a bandit and understands me in some ways, she doesn’t in others. Not in a bad way, I know she loves me and I love her, it’s good she can’t relate to this part.”

David arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Growing up, she had amazing holidays. Regina’s told me about the Christmases they had in that palace. Mom knows what I went through as a kid and I know it makes her go a little overboard herself, but I don’t think it sunk in.”

It slowly dawned on David. “I’m guessing your Christmases in the system weren’t exactly a royal affair.”

“I don’t remember the first few years of my life, but I think I had good ones with the Smiths. My first one after they…well, after they had their kid,” Emma frowned at the memory. “I was in a crappy foster home, they got their biological children presents, but none for the foster kids. That sort of set how things were my entire life.”

David frowned. “Oh Emma…”

“It’s okay.” She shook it off. “Really, I’m over it. I guess I try to overcompensate as a result with Henry and Neal. I know you guys and Regina go overboard anyway with them, but I still remember what it was like…to wake up Christmas morning and feel that pain. To go to school after the break and listen to everyone talk about all the amazing gifts they got, when you were lucky if you even got to eat that day.”

 David and Emma sat on the bed together, him wrapping a protective arm around her.

 “I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” he whispered. “I…I never wanted that for you.”

“Dad, it’s fine. You and Mom did what you had to, to keep me safe. I don’t blame you.”

“Still.” He shook his head. “When I was a kid, Christmases were never a grand affair. My parents did the best they could so I could feel the magic of the holiday. Then when I was 5, the year my father went missing, there weren’t any presents. He was supposed to bring them. My mom tried to make it better, she wrapped up some stuff we had around the house, but it was too late, I had seen the empty tree. I learned Father Christmas wasn’t real that year.”

“Oh, Dad,” Emma squeezed his hand, frowning.

“After that, things were pretty bad. We both tried to make it great for each other, but winters were often the worse for the farm. Mother was usually away trying to get us the best supplies. I never wanted you to be alone on Christmas.”

“You had no way of knowing. Besides, we’re together now.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m sorry you did, too. Even so, the best Christmas I ever had was the one after the curse broke. The four of us, seeing your face when you saw all the gifts…it was 29 years too late, but it was amazing.”

“That was my favorite too. Mom, Henry and I celebrated the holiday together under the curse, but that was the first time we were all a family.” She let out a small, content sigh. “Maybe we should try to go a bit easier next year, remember what it’s really about. We’re together now, that’s what’s important.”

“You’re right.” He kissed her temple. “I love you, Em.”

“I love you too, Dad.”